#i actually have no idea with miranda sorry

[isas-bathbombs]

Is this RL character a swiftie?

Angie

oh absolutely. she’s annoying about it too

she has gotten into arguments over it

her twitter is just her bullying jake gyllenhaal and kanye west

she’s that one swiftie who tricked people into believing starbucks would give them a free drink if they streamed lover

her fav songs are definitely new romantics, 22 and shake it off

i think her fav era is lover

biggest ME! defender. she was devastated when “hey kids, spelling is fun!” was removed

Dani

probably not, but she hears it a lot because of angie and cass

its unavoidable for her so she probably knows more songs than the average person

doesn’t have strong opinions on her, but vibes with some of her music

would defend her despite not knowing shit

her hopeless romantic ass would love enchanted

Bela

no but she’d LOVE evermore and folklore’s lyricism if she gave it a chance

she would love the lakes and cowboy like me

hears a lot from cass and is lowkey annoyed by it

but she would 100% go with cass and dani to a concert if they asked her to come

she’d even make friendship bracelets for it. its so funny to imagine her having a meltdown bc it’s actually super tedious and the string keeps breaking and the beads go missing or shooting to her eye

ur telling me swift didnt write mad woman and the archer about bela? :/

Cass

YES. THE BIGGEST SWIFTIE

her fav album is 1989. she cried when TV came out

she was first introduced to taylor swift from the hannah montana movie and the song crazier changed her life

she forced elena to queue for eras tour tickets with her

she even cancelled rehearsals to get those damn tickets

make a joke about taylor's jet and she'll get mad

“im sorry did mother nature write style? yeah i dont think so.”

she listens to how you get the girl like its real instructions

probably has also gotten into online arguments about her too

when red TV came out, she asked you to temporarily break up with her for 10 mins so she can experience all too well properly /j

is a james hater without realizing she’s kinda him

the type of person who would pause a conversation and go “wait i got a taylor swift lyric that fits this”

Donna

no but would hear a lot from angie

similar to bela, she’d love evermore and folklore if she gave it a chance

she would’ve loved hoax and happiness

Alcina

has beef with taylor for absolutely no reason

one time cass would be playing the piano and she’d be like “oh wow that’s beautiful. what piece is this?” and then lost it when cass said it was a taylor swift song

she’d love false god if she listened to it tho. you’d probably be able to get her to like taylor if she listened to the right songs

Miranda

a hater /j

#shoutout to v for the cass jet joke #i actually have no idea with miranda sorry #i just dont think she’d be a fan #i can make a whole post of just swiftie tweets that are something angie would post #resident lover #bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #angie beneviento #donna beneviento #mother miranda #taylor swift

[neil-gaiman]

Hi Neil! Hope you’re doing well!! Sorry this probably isn’t the time (we didn’t see anything, not until July 28th, promise!!) and it might be obvious to everyone else but I rewatched the film Benjamin Button recently and it gave me an idea!

I just want to ask, have Maggie Service and Nina Sosanya been cast again as different characters just because of how iconic and lovable they are? Or is it a butterfly effect, if there was no antichrist to form the Satanic Order around (Adam’s human now after all), are Nina and Maggie (the characters) who Sister Mary Loquacious and Sister Theresa Garrulous actually became on this alternate timeline?

Hope that makes sense, so so excited for S2 🥳

We're on the same timeline. (Somewhere Mary Hodges is out running management conferences and Sister Theresa Garrulous is still dead.) I cast them because I wanted them in the show again, and I couldn't think of anyone I wanted in those roles except for them. There's a Good Omens family and Maggie and Nina are part of it. (Which is also why Miranda Richardson and Reese Shearsmith returned in new roles.)

[kingpreciouswrld]

If you’re still accepting Miranda Priestly x Reader fic ideas i’ve got one!

Miranda and Reader have been married or a long time now secretly of course to prevent a media mishap. The reader is a stylist who sometimes stops to visit and help with a showcase, maybe she comes in casually to have lunch with Miranda and gets stopped by Andrea and Emily who try to get her to leave as they don’t know her(only Nigel does) and they’re both trying to tell Emily and Andrea that she’s allowed back there without exposing the marriage, eventually Miranda just comes out and asks why they’re touching her wife ( or something of the sort???) feel free to branch from this

ask and ye shall receive!

I hope you like it! It's been a while since I've written for anyone but myself :3

Nobody's Gonna Know

It’s an unusually busy day in your office. The clothes you’ve ordered haven’t arrived yet and your workers seem to not know how to conduct themselves in a manner without the very needed materials. You looked on through the glass doors as your workers ran around like headless chickens, trying to come up with something to show you before you needed to leave.

As a well-known stylist, it was your job to come up with new and creative or out-of-the-box looks to those who paid for your help. You mainly helped with showcases that Runway Magazine held and the clothes you needed today were actually from Runway Magazine. Through the grapevine you’ve heard that their workers were just as clueless as yours when it came to the clothes you were seeking.

As you sat in your little office, you thought back to when you first started out. You were a nobody, hell you weren’t even a New York local. No, you came from a small town in the middle of nowhere. Having nothing to your name, you first tried making it in California. You gained some traction which led you to move to New York. At first you were against it. You didn’t like big cities all that much, it just wasn’t your scene but you knew that your talent and job called for being around big things.

A year into the job, you attended a charity event where you were introduced to the one and only, Miranda Priestly. It was hard to read the woman at first but you saw it in her eyes, she liked you or at least, your work. That’s how it all started. You started to come and do jobs at Runway Magazine while also taking some jobs on the side. Not to mention the growing relationship between you and the editor which also included the lives of her rambunctious daughters and her slobbery saint bernard.

3 years passed and Miranda and you kept things underwraps. Heaven knows you’d have a field day for Page Six and their stinging words, so you have kept your relationship from everyone. Well, everyone except those closest to you.

Sighing, you looked at the clock. It was almost lunch time and Miranda didn’t like to be kept waiting.

You grabbed your bag and slung it over your shoulder, “Annie, reschedule the runthrough until this afternoon. I’m sure Runway will do the same due to the circumstances with its clothing gone missing. I’m going out for lunch.” Your assistant nodded and frantically went to work at her computer as you passed her.

Making your way to Elias Clarke, you weaved through the small crowds before entering the building– blending in with the clackers around you. No one knew about your relationship with the fashion queen so you easily blended with crowds and you loved it. No one bothered you.

Until they did.

You had made your way up to Runway’s floors when you passed the front desk and made your way towards Miranda’s inner sanctum. You’ve been to Runway multiple times so no one blinked an eye as you strolled down the halls.

Reaching the outer office of Miranda’s, you haven’t intended to actually be stopped by her assistants.

Andy was the first to notice you as Emily was out.

“Oh! Y/n! I’m sorry but Miranda is in a meeting so you wouldn’t be able to go in right away.” 

You looked at the clock above the assistant’s desk. 11:56 am. Knowing your wife, you knew she wouldn’t mind if you interrupted her work. She never minded when you did it at home, so why would her workplace be different?

“Trust me, I think Miranda wouldn’t mind Andy. So I’m just gonna…”

You tried to step past the young woman but Andy just stepped in front of you. The assistant’s eyes widened as you tried to step past her again but she blocked your way through.

There was only so much you could do so you sighed as you looked back at the clock. 

11:58 am.

This time, you tried to listen for the soft voices coming from your wife’s office. There were only two that you could pick up on. One was, of course, Miranda’s but the other was a man’s voice. Somewhat…feminine? But not too feminine.

“Is it just Nigel and Miranda in there?”

As you tried stepping past the brunette, again she blocked your path.

“Look Y/n, if you keep this up I’m going to have to call security.”

At this time, Emily walked in and took in the scene in front of her, “Andrea? What’s going on here?”

As Andy was distracted, you tried to step past her again but only to be grabbed by the arm and pulled back, away from Miranda’s office door, “Woah! Okay, no touchy, alright? These cost more than your paycheck alright?”

Emily huffed and rolled her eyes but didn’t release you. Andy looked like she was nervous about losing her job. She knew you were stubborn and wouldn’t stop until you were able to see Miranda.

“Since you already have her, escort her to the lobby Em. She’s been trying to break into Miranda’s office. “ ‘Break into’? I’m just trying to see my– ugh, look, I’ll just wait alright? You guys don’t need to be so touchy about–”

Before you could finish your sentence, the brit was already moving towards the front desk area. You immediately stood your ground so the redhead would have a harder time moving you. You’d show them stubborn.

As the three of you were arguing and you were still struggling against Emily’s hold– you didn’t know how the redhead was this strong– you three failed to notice Miranda’s office door open.

“Look, if you let me go, i’ll make sure you still have your job at the end of the day, alright?”

Emily scoffed, “As if you’re so important here, you’re just a small town no one who just happened to meet Miranda and kiss her ass all the way till–”

“Is there a reason you’re restraining my wife?”

Both assistant’s straightened their posture at the cool voice before they realized what she said.

Emily gaped, looking like a fish out of water while Andy looked more afraid of losing her job this time.

Miranda’s eyes were still where Emily had a grip on you and she glared at the redhead, “Let. Go. Emily.” 

The brit let your arm go as if your arm burned her and you grumbled as you rubbed your arm, trying to soothe the lingering pain of Emily’s grip. Behind the editor, Nigel looked as if he was about to burst out laughing at the girls’ faces.

“Now, how about some lunch my love?”

#miranda priestly x reader #miranda priestly #tdwp

[weemssapphic]

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

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

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

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

not your fault

Words: ~7.4k | ao3 link in title

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Louder.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, sure.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~

If you’d thought your second week on the job would start better than the first, well - you’d quickly find out just how wrong you were.

Monday morning started like any other - you strode into the office with your coffee to-go cup, passing by Miranda’s empty desk. There was a half-empty bowl of cereal at the edge, stacks of manila folders and paperwork strewn over the surface, an empty, crumpled paper bag from the local bakery that had been tossed unceremoniously onto the computer keyboard. It stirred up a twinge of annoyance in you, but you tried your best to shake off the feeling.

Looking up and seeing the blonde standing at the coffee machine in the kitchen, you quickly averted your gaze and hurried to your office.

Your mind began to wander as you answered your emails and a flash of blonde through the window in your office caught your eye. Miranda walked back to her seat, a mug in her hand. She reached her desk and distractedly looked up, talking enthusiastically with Robin as she placed the mug down on a teetering pile of papers.

You looked on in horror as the pile slowly toppled over, spilling coffee all over her desk - you couldn’t bear to watch anymore, dropping your head into your hands in frustration as you heard Miranda let out a gasp.

Not my problem, you thought, trying to take steadying breaths. It wasn’t your desk that she’d spilled her coffee on, after all. 

You stood and made your way to your office door, calling out for Robin.

“Yeah?”

“Did you manage to get a copy of the autopsy results already? I really need them.”

Robin shifted slightly from foot to foot, a frown growing on her face - you really didn’t like the look of that.

“Actually, I sent Miranda to get them this morning.”

Raising an eyebrow, you looked past Robin at her colleague, who was frantically wiping up the spilled coffee from her desk. “Hilmarson, can I get those autopsy results?”

Miranda looked up, freezing in her movements. Her eyes darted between you and her desk and her cheeks were rapidly turning pink. “They, uh… Got a bit soggy.” She strode over to you with a piece of paper in her hand. You took it gingerly, a look of disgust forming on your face as the entire thing was brown and dripping wet.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” you growled. Miranda shrugged sheepishly and muttered out an apology - you glared at her in return. “I need you to get me a fresh copy by this afternoon.”

Miranda opened her mouth to speak but you interrupted her, balling your hand into a fist and crumpling up the paper, tossing it on her desk. “And tidy your fucking desk like a grown up,” you snarled.

Miranda’s face was red as she turned sharply on her heel and stormed out of the office, taking large strides towards the elevators and disappearing from view. 

“She grows on you,” Robin supplied quietly, watching you watch Miranda. You snorted.

“I doubt it.” Your stomach churned uncomfortably even as you said those words. Why did this woman have such an effect on you?

“She’s been having a rough time, ever since the breakup with Adrian.” Your eyes widened at this piece of information - you’d known about Adrian’s affair, of course, but you’d never thought it would be with Miranda. “They were going to have a baby together, you know.”

You coughed, choking on your own saliva. “They what?” You couldn’t picture Miranda as a mother - she was far too clumsy and chaotic… and goofy. And generous. Okay, maybe you could picture it, a little bit. Your stomach churned uncomfortably - you didn’t know the details of the affair, but breakups were rough - you’d moved across the country after your last breakup. You suddenly felt ashamed for being such a bitch to her. 

“Yeah, well…” You cleared your throat awkwardly. “I have a lot of work to do, so if you don’t mind…” You forced a smile and Robin raised her eyebrows, nodding and leaving you be. You tried to focus after that but you couldn’t, your mind wandering quite insistently to a certain constable. Guilt began to gnaw at your insides after having been so harsh with her. You’d have to - you wanted to - apologize for your behavior.

You locked yourself in your office and finished replying to your emails. Even half an hour later, Miranda was still not at her desk - nor was she in the kitchen, the locker rooms, or the alley under your window. You finally found her behind the station, looking out over the water and smoking a cigarette. 

“Hey,” you called, your heart clenching when you saw Miranda flinch as she turned to face you.

“Oh fuck. Look, I’m sorry, okay, I-”

“I’m the one who should apologize. Robin told me it was you.”

Miranda’s face scrunched up in confusion. She dropped her cigarette and took a step towards you. “Sorry?”

“You know, with Adrian.”

Recognition flooded Miranda’s features and she dropped her gaze to the pavement. “Oh.” She let out a hollow chuckle and turned again, walking towards the water and lowering herself to sit at the edge. You followed and took a seat next to her, leaving a healthy distance between the two of you. 

“Men are pigs, you know?” Miranda said after a moment’s silence. A loud snort escaped your lips, causing Miranda to laugh - you hadn’t heard her laugh so freely before, but it made your heart soar and you thought it might be your new favorite sound in the world. It wasn’t quite melodic, not necessarily akin to birdsong - it was loud and unabashed and very Miranda, and for some reason you found you really liked that. You couldn’t help but laugh, too.

“You’re alright, you know that, Hilmarson?” you said with a grin, gently bumping your shoulder into hers. Miranda’s laughter slowly died out but the smile remained on her face, accompanied by a faint blush.

“Thanks. You are, too.”

~~~

“Hilmarson.” You slung your jacket over your shoulder as you strode past Miranda’s desk the following day around noon. Her eyes grew wide and she dropped the pen she was holding, straightening her posture. “Come with me.”

Miranda scrambled to get up, slipping her phone into her pocket and following you to the elevators and out of the building. 

“Where are we going?” she asked, confusion evident in her tone as she scurried after you. You bypassed the parking lot, heading down the street instead.

“You’ll see,” you said with a smirk, wordlessly offering Miranda a cigarette. She fumbled around in her pocket for a lighter but you were quicker, holding up your own. “Hold still,” you murmured, holding the lighter up to her cigarette and lighting it for her, your eyes catching on the way her long, slender fingers held it, as if it were a delicate thing. 

Your destination was a nearby coffee shop, and you held the door open for Miranda to step through. “After you,” you purred, smirking at Miranda’s wide eyes. After a moment’s hesitation, she scrambled into the cafe, waiting awkwardly for you at the counter.

“It’s on me,” you said before ordering yourself a latte and a sandwich. “Get anything you like.”

Minutes later, you were sitting together at a little table in the corner.

“Look,” you started with a sigh. Miranda tilted her head. “Can we start over? I haven’t exactly been fair to you. You aren’t the reason I was late last week. I was angry and took it out on you, and that was really shitty of me.”

“I did spill cereal all over your shirt, though,” Miranda murmured with a sheepish grin, her cheeks turning adorably rosy.

“Yeah. Yeah, you did,” you said with a laugh. “That’s not the point, though. You’re too good to let yourself get walked all over, you know that?”

Miranda shrugged, unable to fully meet your gaze and focusing instead on her panini, out of which she took a huge bite.

“Not by me, not by Constable Brown, not by Adrian - you’re a solid officer and you have potential, you just need to stand your ground more.”

“Oh god,” Miranda spoke through a full mouth, her voice slightly garbled, her eyes wide. “Is this a performance review or something?”

You laughed, your stomach flipping as her blush deepened. “No. I just…” You hesitated, biting your lip and looking away. I just really like you. “I just wanted to apologize. I want us to work together, not against each other.”

“Really?” Miranda grinned, her eyes sparkling - the hope written across her face nearly made your heart stop, and you nodded. “I was so scared when I found out you were my new boss. I really thought you hated me.”

“I did, too,” you said with a laugh. “But… for the record, I don’t. I hope you don’t hate me.” 

Miranda’s cheeks puffed out as she chewed and she smiled widely. “I don’t.”

~~~

Ever since your lunch “date”, your feelings for Miranda were only growing. Your heart skipped a beat when you caught sight of her at the station, your stomach fluttered when you heard her voice. You even found yourself timing your smoke breaks with hers, just so you would have an excuse to chat with her and bask in her presence.

The following Friday at the bar, Miranda chose to sit down next to you. She placed a beer in front of you and offered you a wide smile - you felt your face flush as you muttered out an uncharacteristically shy “thank you”.

The two of you listened to your colleagues talk and banter - or rather, perhaps Miranda was listening, but you definitely weren’t. You were far too focused on the constable and your close proximity to one another; the way her shoulder bumped yours every so often, the way her hand flexed around her beer bottle, the way her throat bobbed whenever she took a sip.

Miranda laughed, throwing her head back, her shoulders shaking. She looked to the side, meeting your gaze - you couldn’t help but grin giddily back at her, chuckling a bit, and you could see her cheeks turn red as she returned your grin. 

After your third beer, you started to feel a little daring - you placed your hand gingerly on her thigh, your touch feather light as you were afraid of crossing a line. To your surprise, Miranda placed her own hand on top of yours - it was warm and soft and large, and you could feel your pulse pick up as her long fingers curled slightly around yours. When you dared to steal a glance in her direction, you could see a soft smile playing upon her lips.

~~~

“Hey.” A low voice coming from the doorway to your office caused you to look up from your laptop. A smile involuntarily spread across your face seeing Miranda leaning awkwardly against the doorframe, her hands clasped behind her back.

“Hi,” you replied - Miranda hadn’t come into your office proactively since you’d started working at the station, but you supposed a lot had changed in the past few days. “Do you need something?”

Miranda shook her head. “No, I, uh, I actually wanted to ask if you’d want to come over to my place for a beer or something tonight?”

“Oh.” A swarm of butterflies erupted in your stomach at the prospect of spending one-on-one time with the blonde - who was looking increasingly like she was about to throw up, the longer you took to reply. “Yeah, yes, I would love to.”

Miranda’s eyes widened. “Okay, great. I’ll send you my address. How’s 7?”

“7 is perfect,” you said with a growing blush, chuckling as Miranda rushed back to her desk to grab her phone - your own phone pinged with a text moments later: an address.

~~~

You showed up promptly at 7, your heart pounding fiercely against your ribcage as you knocked on the door to Miranda’s apartment.

The door swung open to reveal the tall blonde, wearing the blue shirt she’d loaned you after spilling cereal all over you, as well as a pair of shorts. 

“Blue is definitely your color,” you said before you could stop yourself. It really was, though - it brought out the blues of her eyes, making them shine and sparkle against her pale skin. 

“Thank you,” Miranda said with a laidback grin, gesturing for you to enter her apartment. It surprised you to see that it wasn’t as messy as you’d have assumed it to be - it was definitely lived in, but it was clean and had very home-y vibes. More than anything, the first thing you noticed was the smell. It smelled like Miranda - light and clean, but with the faint scent of cigarettes clinging to the air. Her shirt had smelled like that, too, when you’d borrowed it, and though you never would have admitted it back then, you’d buried your nose in the fabric more than once before begrudgingly washing and returning it.

Miranda offered you a beer and guided you to her living room, settling on the couch and motioning for you to join her. The couch was relatively small and though you tried to leave some space between you, your knee ended up pressing lightly against Miranda’s thigh.

Despite your nerves, it somehow felt right to be in her space. You felt as though you were able to see a whole new side to Miranda - a side that you really liked. As the two of you engaged in some timid small-talk, you couldn’t help but wonder why she’d invited you - you hoped it was for the same reason that you’d said yes.

“God, I was so nervous to ask you to come over,” Miranda said with a cackle, shaking her head at herself before taking a swig of her beer.

“Were you?” The thought amused you greatly, and it gave you a shot of confidence. You dropped your voice an octave and leaned forward. “Do I make you nervous?”

Miranda looked like a deer caught in headlights, her eyes widening. Your eyes flicked briefly to her lips, to her wet, pink tongue darting out to lick them, and you found yourself leaning even closer. 

“What would you do if I kissed you right now?” you murmured, scanning Miranda’s face for any sign of discomfort. Miranda’s pupils dilated and her lips parted slightly.

“I would kiss you back,” she whispered, her gaze landing on your lips.

“Yeah?” you whispered back with a smile. Miranda nodded slowly.

“Uh-huh.” 

You closed the gap, your lips meeting hers - she tasted like beer and cigarettes, and her lips were impossibly soft. She kissed you back eagerly, whimpering a little as your tongue darted out over her lower lip.

You pulled back, your cheeks covered in a light blush.

“I’m sorry, I hope that wasn’t-” you started, but Miranda interrupted you with a second kiss, this one deeper and hungrier than the first as her hands grabbed your cheeks, holding you in place. Her tongue licked greedily at the seam of your lips, which you immediately parted for her. You let out a deep groan as her tongue slipped into your mouth, dancing with yours in near-desperation.

“You taste so good,” Miranda moaned, her voice low and sultry, and desire pooled in your core.

“Mmmh,” was all you could reply as your hands gripped at Miranda’s waist and you swung your leg over her lap to straddle her. Her hands slid down to your waist, then your hips, then came to rest on top of your thighs. She gave them a squeeze and you found yourself involuntarily grinding your pelvis into her lap, her touch sending your body into overdrive.

“Oh, fuck,” you whispered, Miranda swallowing your words as your bodies pressed against each other, a steady and suffocating heat building between the two of you.

The constable’s hands slipped under your ass and she turned you onto your back - breaking the kiss only briefly to position herself above you. One of her knees came to rest between your legs and she pushed it against your core, drawing a groan from your throat. The pressure was delicious against your aching sex and you bucked your hips to get some much-needed relief.

Miranda’s lips left your own and began to trail down your chin, your throat, your chest, stopping at the top button of your shirt - hot, wet, needy. She lifted her head and you looked down to meet her gaze - her pupils were blown wide with lust, her cheeks gorgeously flushed, her hair tousled.

“We- fuck,” you started breathily, finding it almost impossible to think as Miranda’s knee pressed against your clit. “We should slow down.”

Miranda nodded, her eyes widening and her cheeks bright red as she reluctantly pulled her leg away from your cunt. You bit down on your lower lip to stop a whine from slipping out at the loss of friction.

The constable settled half on top of you, leaning against the back of the couch and propping her head up on her arm. She closed her eyes as she tried to steady her heavy, ragged breathing. “Right. Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” you whispered, your voice hoarse with want. “I just don’t want to take advantage of you.”

Miranda’s eyes snapped open and she met your gaze, a slow, easy grin spreading across her face. “You’re not. I want this.”

“I don’t think I just want this,” you mumbled, closing your eyes and swallowing hard. “I want you.” 

“I want you, too.”

You opened your eyes and met Miranda’s bright, eager gaze, searching her face for any hint of doubt or hesitation. “Are you sure?”

Miranda nodded and you lunged forward, your lips crashing into hers as your hand snaked its way around the back of her head, holding her in place. Your fingers threaded through her hair - it felt like silk under your skin.

Your other hand settled on her waist, tugging her on top of you - her body weight pressed you down into the couch and you groaned at the feeling. You needed more, you wanted more, so your hands found the hem of Miranda’s t-shirt and you slipped underneath it. Her bare skin was impossibly smooth, and you felt electricity coursing through your body at the feeling of her soft hips in your hands. Your hands found their way up her back and you raked your nails over the expanse of it, pleased with the hungry growl that escaped Miranda’s lips.

Finding the clasp of her bra, you unclipped it, slipping a hand around to the front of her torso and under the loose fabric to palm her breast. She grasped desperately at your waist as your warm palm rubbed over her nipple, rolling it into a hard peak. Miranda let out a breathy sigh and sat up, straddling your waist and pulling her shirt off. Her bra followed, and both were discarded on the floor behind the couch. 

You felt the air leave your lungs as you stared up at Miranda - your mouth going dry. Her rosy nipples contrasted against her pale skin, her abdomen rippled with every heaving breath that she took. You couldn’t help but reach out and touch her, caressing her hips, her stomach, her breasts - flicking your thumbs over her pert nipples and watching them harden further.

Sitting up, you hungrily took one of the rosy buds into your mouth, sucking greedily and soothing your tongue over it as you felt Miranda’s hands thread through your hair. You repeated the process on her other nipple, thoroughly pleased with yourself when Miranda let out a soft, breathy moan - one that was so deliciously pornographic that you felt a wave of arousal course through you, your panties growing damp.

You released Miranda’s nipple, your hands drifting down to the buckle of her belt and making quick work of undoing it. Miranda took the hint, removing her pants in a hurry and then focusing her attention on your own clothes. Your own shirt was unbuttoned and tossed aside in an instant, your pants tugged down your legs and dropped onto the floor with the rest of the clothing.

Miranda’s bare skin was hot against your own and you pulled her back down on top of you, your pussy throbbing as her nipples brushed against yours. You kissed her with hunger and passion, your left hand palming her ass as your right hand found its way between your bodies to cup her pussy over her underwear.

The constable groaned, immediately grinding against your hand - you noticed that she’d soaked through the thin cotton of her underwear. You pulled the fabric aside and curled your fingers against the length of her slit, letting out a gasp as you felt her dripping for you.

“I need you,” she whined, shuddering as your fingers explored her folds - letting out a strangled whimper when you smeared her wetness over her clit and began to draw lazy circles over the bundle of nerves.

Miranda turned out to be as loud as she was sensitive - you found it easy to bring her to the edge, time and time again, your fingers applying a gentle pressure to her clit and pumping easily in and out of her, her slick walls drawing your digits in and clenching tightly around them. Her unabashed moans filled the air, echoing off the walls of the living room and having you wondering - only briefly, though - how thick those walls were.

After her fifth orgasm, when the stimulation finally became too much for her, Miranda whimpered and shifted her pelvis away from you. Taking the hint, you pulled your hand out of her underwear, your fingers shining with her arousal. You lifted them to Miranda’s face, smirking when she immediately opened her mouth and allowed you to place your fingers on her tongue. She sucked them clean, her flushed cheeks hollowing out, her kiss-swollen lips wrapped around your knuckles. 

You leaned forward to kiss her as she released your fingers, eager to taste the remnants of her orgasm on her tongue. The taste was heavenly - you were almost sorry that Miranda was so overstimulated - you’d have given everything to go down on her.

She pulled back from the kiss, her hot, heavy breath ghosting over your face as she rested her forehead against your own, trying to steady her breathing. A bead of sweat had collected on her forehead and you reached up to wipe it away, tucking a strand of mussed hair behind her ear. It was too short, of course, and immediately fell back into her face - it made you smile, and Miranda smiled - no, beamed - back, her eyes sparkling.

“I hope that wasn’t too much,” you whispered into the silence - Miranda blushed and shook her head no. Her fingers danced along the waistband of your underwear, lightly at first as she leaned in for a languid kiss. Then her fingers curled under the waistband and began tugging, her lips trailing down your jaw, your throat, your sternum, your stomach - soft, warm, wet, hungry. She tugged your underwear down your legs, her lips immediately replacing the fabric as she pressed kisses to your mound, to your inner thighs - finally disappearing between your legs. 

You felt her tongue lap hungrily at your folds, little noises of pleasure coming from between your thighs and vibrating against your cunt. It was both adorable and extremely hot at the same time, how eagerly Miranda ate you out - sloppy, yet determined (and very skilled, you noted mentally, letting out a filthy groan as her lips latched onto your clit, her tongue flicking at the sensitive little bundle).

By the time Miranda was finished with you, your thighs were trembling and your breathing was ragged. The constable pressed one final kiss to your clit, before sitting up and grinning goofily down at you. Her chin was coated in your slick and her cheeks were flushed, and you couldn’t help but loop an arm around her neck and pull her close, licking your own arousal off her face before meeting her lips in a slow, sensual kiss.

After what felt like hours holding each other, kissing and regaining your breaths, you felt your eyes begin to grow heavy and you sighed.

“I should probably get going,” you murmured, your voice slightly hoarse.

“Yeah - of course.” Miranda blushed as she pushed herself off you. “Can you just wait here?”

You nodded, furrowing your brows as the constable stood and walked out of the room. You heard the tap running, then she came back with a wet washcloth.

“Is it okay if I…” Her eyes darted down between your legs as she took a seat next to you.

It was your turn to blush. “Yeah, that’s okay. Thanks.”

Miranda cleaned you up with great care, being extra gentle as she soothed the washcloth over your clit. When she was done, you got dressed in silence, then allowed Miranda to walk you to the door. She paused with her hand on the doorknob.

“Would you want to…” she trailed off, not quite able to meet your gaze.

“Are you busy Saturday? Would you like to go on a date with me?” You couldn’t help but smile as Miranda’s eyes widened and she began to nod, a look of relief washing over her face as her lips curled upwards.

“Yeah - I’m not busy, I would love to.”

“Good.” You smirked, leaning in to press your lips to Miranda’s - her breath hitched in her chest. “I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”

You turned to leave, exiting the apartment and walking down the hall. Turning around to wave goodbye, you could see Miranda smiling as her head poked out from behind the door. 

That night, you fell asleep with a soft smile on your face and a warmth in your belly - already mentally planning your date.

x

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#miranda hilmarson x reader #miranda hilmarson #top of the lake: china girl #top of the lake

[geekyarmorel]

Your angst anon here but I come with a silly(stupid actually if u think about it) idea this time! Reader being abducted by MM so now she has to work under her helping with experiments, etc. MM seeing that reader has been on a good behavior decided to reward reader and goes, like, "you have a choice, pick something... within reason". Poor reader being her sleepdeprived self and with questionable life choices/morals answers that she wants to do MM's makeup... chaos ensues. Make it awkward, make it tense! MM thinking she's finally broken the girl into insanity but it's just reader being fascinated by all that is MM!

Hey! I love the prompt, sorry it took a while to get to. My writing capacity has suffered while I've been dealing with my festive anxiety this time of year. Anyway enjoy!

Insane for You (Crazy for you)

Mother Miranda x Reader

You were going insane, or rather yet, you were already insane. You're unsure of what caused you to blurt out that for a reward you wanted to do her makeup. But there's no taking it back now. The pseudo mother who is a rather brilliant and somewhat dubious scientist stood staring at you, a look of shock on her face for a moment before her brows furrowed as she looked over you.

Her face smooths out and with a very slight nod she speaks. "Very well. Tomorrow I'll let you do my makeup. You're dismissed for the day."

You can't believe what you just heard and it takes a minute for it to sink in. She turns and goes back over to her desk, her piercing eyes locking on yours again. "I said dismissed."

"Right, of course, sorry." You say quickly, removing your coat and hurrying out of the lab. Once you got back to your room you sink down to the floor as you try to gather your thoughts. You were possibly a crazy person who literally asked to do the villages deity's makeup as a reward for doing good work for said woman. "What the actual fuck." You whisper before burying your face into your hands, what had you gotten yourself into.

Of course your mouth would speak before your brain had a chance to catch it. Wanting nothing more than to spend time with her, to get just a tiny bit closer to her than you've been. Because let's face it, you were head over heels for her. You hoarded the time you spent together, collecting the small signs of familiarity that she gave. Like the slight nod she gave when you did something right or beneficial to her, or the quiet 'thank you' when you took her the warm supper you cooked for her, or perhaps the way she hovered next to you while you both worked now instead of staying far away from you.

And your big stupid brain and mouth has possibly just ruined things for you. What if you didn't do her makeup right? What if she hated it and then hated you? You shuddered at the thought, no thank you. You've seen what happens when you get on her bad side, it's scary AF and you weren't going to let yourself go down that road.

With a sigh you get up and pick up the book you had been reading but the pages held no interest to you. After the third attempt to read the same page you gave up. Instead you made your way to the kitchen, preparing supper a bit early but cooking always gave you a sense of peace. It doesn't take long before the kitchen is filled with the aroma of food cooking, you humming softly while you stir.

Once dinner is ready you fix a plate for yourself and left it on the counter while you took down Miranda's plate to the lab. She was at her desk, scribbling down some notes. You placed the dish to the side of her and get a small "Thank you."

"You're welcome." You stand for just a minute and it causes her to look at you. "I'm sorry for asking to do your makeup. I know it can be kind of an intimate thing and I don't want to overstep. It was just a stupid thing my mouth said before my brain could catch up."

Her piercing blue eyes stare at you for the longest time, her face in her resting bitch face position. "Do you really think I'm that repulsive? That you don't want to touch me?"

Your mouth dropped open and she turned back to her work. She thought you find her repulsive?? "What?! No! I-"

"I have seen the way you look at me when you think I'm not looking." She cuts you off, the grip on her pen tightening. "You let me get closer to you, let me work beside you. I thought that was progress."

"I-"

"Leave." Her words turned clipped and cold.

"No." You can't leave her thinking that you find her repulsive. "I don't find you repulsive! I have never thought that once, honestly. I look at you like that because I want to be closer to you, because I'm head over heels for you. I want to do your makeup because I want to be closer, I want to be able to reach out and touch you. But I didn't want to overstep and ruin what we've gotten." The words sort of rush out from you. "I like you Miranda, I really do."

It seemed like that lab had fallen completely silent at your words. A moment passes before she puts down her pen and rises to stand in front of you. Her hand comes and slips up your neck and pulls you close, her lips pressing against yours. They were soft and warm, and your hands reached out to pull her close against you while you kissed back wholeheartedly.

Miranda pulls back when she needs to gather her breath. "You will be doing my makeup tomorrow and we'll be having dinner together." She declares before pulling you close again for a few more kisses. "Now come on." She reaches for the plate you had set down.

"Yes ma'am." And you happily follow her out of the lab.

"Hold still."

"You're attacking my eyelashes with that mascara." She protest and gives you a sharp look.

"I'm putting a second coat on to make your lashes look fuller. Relax or I'm going to jab you with the wand."

"Try that and it won't go well for you."

"I could always kiss away the hurt." You supply with a smile. You receive a soft smile in return.

"True." Miranda stills and let's you carefully apply the mascara. You finish her makeup with a soft pink lipstick, handing her the compact so she could assess the look. "You did well."

"Thank you." You say, taking the little mirror back and casting a look at your own reflection. The purple and red hickies stuck out against your skin. "Do you think concealer would cover these?"

"You will not be covering them." Miranda says pushing your hand away so she may lean forward and press a few more biting kisses to your neck.

"Stop you'll ruin your lipstick!" You say with a delighted chuckle, playfully squirming.

"It's not the only thing I'll ruin today."

"Miranda!"

#mother miranda re8 #re8 mother miranda #resident evil mother miranda #mother miranda #mother miranda x reader #mother miranda×reader #geeky got an ask #geeky answers #geeky writes

[ctitan98official]

Anonymous: Sorry if you’ve done this before. I don’t think so, but still. I was wondering if you have any head cannons for the RE8 Ladies having a friends w/ benefits relationship at first, but then realizing they caught feelings (and of course their soon-to-be s/o caught feelings too)?

Wow this is a good one! Nope I haven’t written anything like this, but I gotta do it now. Let’s get into it!

Alcina:

To her, you were just a plaything.

She loved how you made her feel, though. You worshipped her in a way that no one else ever had.

Every time you left her bedroom, she felt an unfamiliar longing.

You were lovesick over Alcina.

You wanted her to be yours more than anything.

Eventually, Alcina’s pride caved and she confessed her feelings for you.

You felt on top of the world. She was everything you ever wanted and so much more.

Donna:

The doll maker was shy.

She felt unlovable and was trying to be content with the idea of just having a casual relationship with you.

But she wanted more. You were so kind to her and calmed her more than anything else.

You loved Donna. There was no way around it.

She was sweet and caring. You had to tell her how you felt.

Donna felt immense relief when you told her of your feelings. She smiled and kissed you softly. “I feel the same, cara mia”.

Miranda:

Miranda was no stranger to one night stands.

She often needed to blow off steam, but you were different.

When you had sex it was somehow more intimate. Almost… Loving.

Miranda hadn’t been in love for almost a hundred years.

She felt scared that you didn’t feel the same, so she kept this to herself.

You, on the other hand, were an open book with Miranda. You confessed your feelings not long after she started falling for you.

Miranda couldn’t help but blush and smile softly at you. It seems that you completed her more than any lover ever had.

Bela:

The eldest Dimitrescu sibling never really took time for herself. That included any romantic pursuits.

When you came along, Bela felt more free, more daring.

You made her feel precious.

You had never been in love before, but you doubted you could ever feel the same way about anyone ever again.

Bela was so smart and refined. She taught you a lot.

You finally just had to come out and say how you felt.

You were surprised by the happy giggle and kiss Bela placed on your lips. Now you both knew that the other was hopelessly in love.

Cassandra:

Cass gets bored easily.

For this reason, she was sure that she would never truly fall for one person.

You changed all of that.

Every encounter she had with you was different. Just the thought of you was enough to occupy her for hours on end.

You wanted Cass. You wanted to be with her forever. She was beautiful and you couldn’t get her out of your mind. You had to do something.

You walked up to Cass one day, grabbed her face and placed a searing kiss to her lips. Cass was near panting by the time you pulled away.

You told her that you loved her and she blushed and giggled nervously. THE Cassandra Dimitrescu blushed. She was helpless to deny her feelings after that display.

Daniela:

Dani always thought that she would never find someone to love her.

She tried to be content with one night stands, but she was lonely.

You were her saving grace.

You didn’t just satisfy her sexual appetite, but you talked with her and actually listened to what she was saying.

Dani was smitten, but she didn’t know what she should do.

She couldn’t bear the thought of you leaving her if you didn’t feel the same way.

You surprised Dani, however, by bringing her flowers one day and telling her that you had fallen for her.

Dani felt like she was in a romance novel. Her dream had come true.

Masterlist

#re8 #re8 village #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu x reader #alcina dimitrescu x y/n #lady dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu x y/n #cassandra dimitrescu #re8 shitpost #y/n is stupid #re8 incorrect quotes #bela dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #mother miranda #mother miranda x reader #donna beneviento x reader #bela dimitrescu x reader #cassandra dimitrescu x reader #daniela dimitrescu x reader

[shortstrawberry]

I lowkey feel despite all her efforts Miranda wouldn’t be completely satisfied with MC, even in the good ending. Yes, MC is the reincarnation of her lover, and does get these memories back - but MC isn’t really her lover. Raised by different people, in different eras, surely there are some differences - despite the looks, they cannot be carbon copies of another. Things MC might have been okay with decades ago, they might not be okay with now etc

Spoilers ahead, warning.

You're right on the cash! I agree that Miranda and MC are really only tightly bound by Eva. That's not to say Miranda doesn't love MC. She does! But is the love unconditional as it should be? Absolutely naaaah! Case in point: in the cult ending, the MC picks interests and choices that don't match up with the idea of MC Miranda has. Miranda actually points this out, by saying "MC isn't right in this round". That shows MC needs to fit this mould that Miranda has for her. Or she will get rejected and Miranda will reset again. Remember, Miranda had thrown hot coffee on MC if you teased her a lot. It got the MC in hospital. But hey, Miranda can always reset again so who cares if MC gets stabbed, burnt or eaten by a zombie blondie?

(I'm sorry Bela)

Still, Miranda is a hawt murder mommy and we stan her.

(please don't kill me Miranda stans)

#mother miranda #resident lover #this is not miranda slander i swear #bela dimitrescu #we support women rights and wrongs #anon answered #requests open #anons welcome

[daydream-cement]

Organs in the Wash Ch. 9

Miranda Hilmarson x Reader

The dust settles.

i know this took me forever. so sorry about that, loves <3 thank you to @booitsrue for being my lil beta.

You had been dreading this moment. After the events in your apartment complex, the thought of returning to your home after being discharged from the hospital was a nightmare. How could you go back to that apartment after experiencing everything you had? 

The doctor was happy with your healing progress. The damage to your brain hadn’t been as severe as anticipated, only causing you minor issues with your coordination in which your doctor reassured you could recover with time and effort. You knew this would be possible through your own determination and, not to mention, with the support of Miranda. 

It was a rare occasion when Miranda wasn’t at your bedside. She always sat with her chair pulled close, her hands gripping your left hand while she either watched you sleep or chatted with you about all the changes happening at the department. Since you were taken to the hospital, Adrian had been put under investigation for ‘perverting the course of justice’ and ‘improperly interfering in a police investigation,’ at least, that’s what Miranda told you.There were murmurings of Robin taking over Adrian’s position and Miranda, herself, receiving a promotion for their diligence in your case, all of which was music to your ears. 

“Have you decided where you want to stay after you are discharged from the hospital?” Miranda’s sweet voice at your bedside drew your attention to her. The look on her face caused you to melt instantly, from her shy smile to how her eyes couldn’t meet yours from the nerves. 

 Cocking your head, you inquire deeper, “What do you mean?” 

“I mean- You are free to stay with me... if you want, of course.” Her thumb brushed over your knuckles, eyes focusing in on your hands. She was trying her best to come off in the most nonchalant manner, not wanting you to find her too overzealous. But now that the case was closed, Miranda was interested in putting a full effort into pursuing you romantically. 

The prospect of living with her again was incredibly tempting, but you were worried she may have been asking out of chivalry rather than her romantic feelings for you,  “Oh, well I wouldn’t want to be a burden, Mir. I can- I can go back to my apartment.”

Miranda’s eyes finally met yours, her brow now furrowed at your words, confused at the notion of you being a burden. Her words were spoken quickly, but filled with intention, “You are never a burden. I’ve actually grown to really like having your company in the apartment...” 

Tightening your grip on Miranda’s hand, you offer her a soft smile, “I would love to stay with you again, but I’ll need to get my things from my apartment.” 

There was no hiding the way Miranda’s face lit up at the thought of you coming to live with her again. She squeezed your hand in return, almost too tightly, raising your knuckles to her lips to press a firm kiss, “I can help you get your things. Just tell me what you need and I will get it for you.” The constable then stood, filled with an intense excitement to help collect your belongings so you could move in with her as soon as possible. 

You certainly weren’t opposed to the idea of moving in with her, but her degree of excitement was unexpected. Furrowing your brows, you looked up to her with a crooked smile, “Now?”

“Yes! I can get everything together so you won’t have to worry about it! Just text me the important things and I can get some friends to help with the rest on another day,” The constable gave your hand a final squeeze and moved away from your bedside to gather her things. You could tell from the way her head bobbed back and forth that she was deliriously excited about the prospect of you coming to live with her, “Then when you come, you can take your time to heal.” 

-----

The relentless buzzing of Miranda’s phone drew both of your attentions away from the tv screen. Like clockwork, it was time for the final of the two check-ins Miranda did with you every day. She usually didn’t need the reminder to distribute your antibiotics, check your pain levels, and examine the healing of your wounds. This was a task she assigned herself independent of your doctor. 

Miranda silenced the alarm and looked down at you expectantly. You had your head laying in her lap while she had been reclined back on the sofa. From the patient way she gazed down at you, you were well aware that she expected you to tell her how you were feeling, “I feel okay. No pain right now.” The statements were true, but you were more interested in getting back to the movie rather than taking more time away to talk about yourself. 

“Let’s have a look, hmm?” The constable wouldn’t be deterred, her hands reaching to cradle your neck and push at your shoulder to get a look at the two healing marks on the back of your skull. The hand on your neck slid up so her fingers rested on your cheek, gently manipulating your head so as to see all of the angles of your stitches. It had been a week into being at home with Miranda and the progression of your healing was looking wonderful. 

You tried to provide her with a bit of reassurance, not wanting her to fuss over you, “Really, Mir... I’m okay.” 

She hummed in response, obviously not quite believing you as you always told her you were okay. Once she was satisfied with checking on your healing head, she released your face and guided you head back to rest on her lap once more. Next she held out a hand, fingers flexing expectantly, “Arm, please.” 

This was your least favorite of the healing checks she did. There was no doubt that a scar would permanently grace your forearm, a constant reminder of your kidnapper and his intentions for you. Hesitantly, you raised your arm for her, just wanting this to be over with. 

Miranda was gentle in all that she did, left hand holding your wrist while the right slowly slid your long sleeve down your arm to reveal the scabbed over wound. You could still make out the letters, the meaning of them permanently etched into your mind. 

𐐔𐐨𐑉 𐐣𐐮𐑉𐐰𐑌𐐼𐐲, 𐑄𐐮𐑅 𐐮𐑆 𐑀𐐳𐐼𐐺𐐴.

Dear Miranda, this is goodbye.

As Miranda looked over the healing message, her right hand fell to your hair, stroking through your tresses as guilt washed over her. She felt terribly guilty each time she looked at your forearm, feeling like she was the cause of your injuries. You listen to her let out a long sigh, eyes running over the sentence over and over again.

Raising a hand to your forearm, you trace your fingers over ‘𐐣𐐮𐑉𐐰𐑌𐐼𐐲,’ eyes shifting from your wound back up to the woman who saved you. Your gaze was all adoration, in the weeks of living together before and after the incident, you were sure she was the only person you wanted to spend your life with, “He was wrong.”

“About what, bug?” Miranda slowly lowered your arm, but she maintained a tender hold on your wrist, thumb stroking at your pulse point. Her attention was fully on you, eyes searching your face for the answer to her question. 

“He was wrong about that day being our goodbye. I’m still here with you.” Your tone conveyed the most raw and genuine of emotions, needing her to understand how grateful you were to still be here with her. 

“It was too close...” The constable mumbled, her eyes welling with tears. You knew she was thinking back on how she believed she had failed you. Miranda was adamant that if she wouldn’t have left, if she wouldn’t have given Adrian the opportunity, then you would have never been placed in harm's way. 

“You saved me, Andy.” Narrowing your gaze, you tried your best to display your adamance that you would never hold her at fault for what happened. Pulling your wrist loose from her grip, your hand meets hers to intertwine your fingers and you use the newfound grip to lift the back of her hand to your lips, sealing your statement with a kiss. 

Miranda was quiet for a long moment, afraid to start speaking lest she begin to cry. Her fears became reality when she choked out her words and began to weep, “I failed you.” She twisted her face away from you, not wishing for you to see her so emotional, but the avoidance made your heart shatter. 

You squeezed her hand tighter, eyes locked on the side of her face where you could still see the tears falling. Desperately you tried to reassure her, “You didn’t fail me. So much happened during those two days, yet you found me in hours, Miranda. If it wasn’t for you, I would be dead.” The two of you have had this discussion before, but Miranda was struggling to forgive herself, regardless of your affirmations. 

Biting your lip, you watch her continue to cry, unresponsive to your words. You decide to then change tactics, making your tone lighter, wanting her to feel like you were teasing and flirting with her to lighten the mood, “It just gives me another reason to like you so much... as if I needed more.”

Miranda let out a breathy laugh in her efforts to make the tears subside, your words providing her with a mild form of comfort. It would take her time to truly come to terms with the mistakes made leading up to your kidnapping, regardless if they were in her control or not. Nonetheless, you would reassure her as many times as she needed to understand how deeply you cared for her and appreciated how she cared for you.

“Truly, Miranda... I find it hard to put into words how much I like you...” As you kept up the reassurance for the constable, you began to realize how it was affirming the true feelings you kept tucked away for her. It was more than a deep like, your feelings for Miranda, and now felt as good as time as ever to tell her how you truly felt, “I- I love you, Miranda.”

The pause on her behalf frightened you, but she was more shocked at the suddenness of your omission of true feelings. You watched how her face turned from a partial self-loathing, to confusion, to giddiness in a manner of seconds as she processed what you had told her. The grin on her face was bigger than you could have ever imagined. 

Her hands pulled away from your hand and hair, moving to the sides of your face as her face leaned in towards yours, hovering inches above yours. When she spoke she shook her head, almost in disbelief that you were exchanging these words, “I love you. I do... I love you.” 

The pure joy of hearing your feelings reciprocated, accompanied by Miranda’s demeanor made you giggle. At the sound of your laughter, Miranda began to laugh as well, joining you for a few seconds before abruptly silencing both of you by pressing her lips to yours. 

This kiss held so much more love and emotion than the one outside of your old apartment. 

This kiss meant forever. 

#miranda hilmarson #miranda hilmarson x reader #top of the lake #gwendoline christie #fanfic #gwen christie #organs in the wash

[alxndryngs]

Second Opinion

I had this small idea before I went to bed last night, picking hairs I lost off of my pillow and the sheets lol. Basically, this is about hair loss and Alcina worrying that something is wrong.

One particular morning, you woke before Alcina had. Normally she was the first to wake up, but today was different.

You had told her the night before that you were expecting your period soon and that you had to run down to the village today to get some tampons. She approved of it, but she didnt think you'd go this early in the morning.

Sighing deeply, she looked over at your empty side of the bed. Her eyebrows furrowed while she sat up, taking a closer look at your side of the bed. It was basically covered in hairs!

Rubbing her hand over the pillow in circular motions, she soon had a small hairball she could pick up. The alarms inside her head went off.

----

You were shivering when you stepped back into the castle, a small plastic bag in your hand. Peeling the coat off your shoulders, you made your way to Alcina and your bedchambers. Ever since you stepped out into the cold, you had longed to get back into bed with her and warm up beside her.

However, when you stepped in and called out to her that you were back, you weren't looking at one but two women.

"Y/n, dear. Lovely to see you." Miranda said, smiling softly as she stood before Alcina whom was sitting in her chair by the fire.

Looking at her surprised, you nodded your head. "You too, Mother Miranda. I am so sorry, I had no idea the both of you were to meet. I'll leave you both to it."

You said, hurrying to hang up your coat and tossing the bag over to the connected bathroom so you wouldn't interrupt any further.

"Actually, my dear." Miranda said carefully, coming over to you and placing her clawed hand on your shoulder as she looked down on you. "I am here for you."

Eyebrows furrowing, you looked at Alcina before back at the priestess. For you? "For me? Im sorry, Im afraid I dont quite understand."

Miranda turned her head to look at Alcina before turning back to you with a more serious expression.

"Alcina fears that you might be sick, little bird. Let me do a couple examinations to make sure that you are not, alright?"

"What?" You spat with shock, looking past Miranda and at Alcina. "Alcina! Why on earth would you call Miranda?? I am perfectly fine!"

"Are you?" Finally turning her head to you, you saw the tears on her cheeks and redness in her eyes. "You are losing a lot of hairs. Do you know why people lose hairs? Cancer!"

You pout at her while walking past the priestess and over to your girlfriend, taking her hand into yours and offering a smile.

"I am not sick. Nor do I have cancer, Alcina. Everything is okay."

"Then please, allow me to do some tests to make sure of it."

Turning to miranda with a sigh, you hesitantly nodded. "Fine, okay."

"Fabulous!" She beamed, wings fluttering as she stepped over to you and waved her hand at you. "Take off your clothes."

Your face dropped in not even a second as you looked at Alcina once more, the shock not to miss on your face. She just shrugged, nodding.

"If it requires you taking off your clothes..? It's just Miranda, dear."

"Unbelievable." You mumbled, beginning to undress your upper half before standing before her bare chested. "That's all you'll get."

With a small nod, she pulled off her talons off her fingers before reaching for your breast.

"This is so AWKWARD- Jesus!" You yelled, stepping back from the winged woman and rubbing your breasts.

Alcina leaned forward, her eyebrows furrowed with worry. She looked like she might cry again.

"Did that hurt?? She barely touched you-! Oh god, Miranda, she's going to die, isn't she?" She said, looking to her mother and breaking out into another row of sobs.

"Alcina," You said softly, trying to keep composure. "I am fine. She has very cold hands." You said, glaring at the blonde. "You know my breasts are sensitive.." You mumbled, lowering your arms again.

"Oh, apologies." Rubbing her hands together to warm them up, she stepped towards you once more.

------

"Well, good news." Miranda said while walking back into the room, Alcina clutching your hand tightly.

"Y/n is not sick.... as she tried to tell us. She just.. has a lot of hair and seems to lose just as many."

Turning to your lover, glaring at her, you fake smiled at her.

"I told you so. How about next time you refuse to eat, I will call Mother Miranda and we can wait and see what she shoves down which one of your openings."

Alcina grimaced, mumbling a few apologies. You chuckled while pressing a kiss to the back of her hand.

"It's alright. I know you were just worried. But please, talk to me first before you call Miranda to fondle my breasts."

#lady alcina dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #alcina x reader #re8 alcina #alcina dimitriscu x reader #lady supersized #vampire lady #ladydimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #re8 lords #re8 #resident evil #oneshot #mother miranda #hairloss

[muertawrites]

Tequila Sunrise (Eddie Munson x Reader) [18+]

Summary: You get drunk with your best friend after his gig, and the only evidence you have of anything that happened after you blacked out is a stack of Polaroids you find in his dresser the next morning.

Warnings: tequila, naked Eddie, explicit descriptions of s*xual acts, anxiety, scrambled eggs (sorry vegans)

Word Count: 2k

Author's Note: inspired by / accompaniment to this photo edit by @eddieonfilm. it's an unofficial collab but a beautiful one. this might be my favorite fic i've posted. characters are aged up bc i am also aged up. also whenever i censor s*x in my descriptions i always imagine myself saying it like miranda hart. just. very awkward and tall and british. trying to be decent for bbc standards and practices.

(edit by eddieonfilm. original by @zerlinity )

The first thing that hits you is the pain. It's achy, throbbing, like a sinus infection conjured up by the devil himself. You roll over, groaning at the way your head feels like it's filled with bricks.

Something heavy shifts around your waist - a grip you don't notice until it tightens. Someone else's skin against yours.

Your eyes shoot open. You're not asleep on the pull out couch in Eddie's living room like you remember agreeing to last night. You're in his bed. And you think you might be naked.

Panic overrides your growing hangover and you sit straight up, trying to remember something, anything, from the previous evening. It was late when the gig ended, and Eddie didn't like the idea of you taking the long train ride back to your apartment alone - he offered to let you stay at his instead, which you did. You got slices of pizza from the place downstairs; came up and ate them with a couple beers. You were both already tipsy, and Eddie kept teasing you about what a lightweight you are.

And of course you opened your big stupid mouth and bet him you could drink him under the table.

That's when the tequila came out. That's where your memory ends.

To your relief, you look down and find your torso covered by a faded black t-shirt. You're horrified all over again when when you realize it's ridden up over your waist, everything south of it exposed. Your panties are on the floor beside the bed.

There's a sharp intake of breath beside you, followed by the rustling of sheets and a dip in the mattress. You look over and see that Eddie is also awake, shirtless, and now laying on his back, staring up at the ceiling. After a moment he side eyes you, not moving his head but meeting his lovely brown irises with yours. Despite yourselves, you smirk at each other.

"You look like shit," Eddie comments.

"I feel like shit," you reply.

He chuckles, running his large palm down his face.

"Yeah... me too."

His hand finds your back, rubbing it gently as you lean over with your face in your palm, trying to ride a wave of pain that crashes at the inside of your skull. You wonder how he can be so calm. Casual about something so intimate.

"... Did we fuck?" he wonders.

You let out a heavy sigh, the question making your headache that much worse.

"If we did you weren't very good at it," you remark. "I'm not sore at all."

The pillow he'd been laying on smacks against the side of your head. You shriek, and Eddie grins despite the grimace that pinches his brows.

"Not so loud," he groans. "I feel like I've got a knife between my eyes."

"Shoulda thought of that before you brought out the tequila."

"I'm not the instigator here, tuts."

He sits up and nestles his chin into the crook of your neck, giving you an impish smile.

"I think you lost your little drinking game."

You plant your hand over his face and shove him off you. He chuckles as he flops back down onto the mattress.

Tugging your t-shirt (which you now realize is actually Eddie's) down so you don't reveal anything more than you want him to see with sober eyes, you crawl off the mattress, intent on finding anything with caffeine you possibly can in his kitchen. You pause when something on his dresser catches your eye.

A Polaroid.

A Polaroid of your tits.

You snatch it up, staring at it in horror. What's even worse is that there's more of them, scattered across the cigarette-burned wood and stained carpet below. You sift through them, thankful at least for the fact that they aren't just of you. Many of them are of Eddie - holding a lighter to the cig between his lips, head flung back as he takes a shot, tongue hanging out and middle fingers up, mid-laugh.

His bare torso spread out on his sheets as he smirks up at you.

His hand gripping the small of your back while he tugs at the waistband of your panties with his teeth.

His head between your legs, lips pressed to the inside of your thigh.

You jolt when Eddie's arms curl around your middle, a gesture much more involved than what your relationship (or at least your relationship before the night previous) entails. He plucks one of the photos out of your hand, letting out a little cackle.

"Damn, looks like we did fuck last night," he muses.

His expression suddenly drops, going from amused to grim in less than a second. You catch the change in the mirror and whip around to face him.

"What?"

He swallows heavily, like his throat is full of sand.

"I, uh... We didn't... I... I don't have condoms."

You blink.

"... What?"

You smack at his chest, focusing on the slap of his skin against your palms so you don't faint.

"You're in a band!" you shout. "Why don't you have fucking condoms, Eddie?!"

"You've met my band!" he yells back at you. "We're fucking dorks! You really think we're all getting pussy 24/7? Women terrify me! And I don't want a fucking STD!"

"THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE CONDOMS!"

You slump back against the dresser, any bit of humor you could possibly find in having been drunkenly railed by your best friend completely vaporized. You're not on birth control, and as far as you know, your reproductive bits work exactly as they're supposed to - possibly even better than they're supposed to, since you've been ovulating for the past week and, subsequently, hornier than usual. Unless Eddie got a vasectomy he hasn't mentioned, there's no way you're not harboring a little stowaway.

"Hey."

The warmth of Eddie's palms settling against your cheeks snaps you out of your downward spiral. He gently tilts your head up so you meet his eye, his panicked demeanor replaced by the soft, calm side of him you've only seen a handful of times. It's enough to send the tears stinging your waterline spilling over onto your cheeks.

"No way in hell I'm letting you have a kid, least of all my fucking kid. There's a pharmacy on the corner. We'll walk down together, get you some Plan B - that I'll pay for - and have breakfast at the diner next block over. Yeah?"

You nod, sniffling and wiping at your now blotchy, tear-stained face.

"Yeah," you agree. "Yeah... yeah, okay. Yeah."

The journey to the pharmacy is silent, but not uncomfortable. Eddie walks with his arm linked in yours, keeping you pressed to his side as if trying to shield you from prying eyes; he doesn't leave you alone, either, a hand always at the small of your back or locked around your shoulders.

As you make your way out of the contraceptive aisle, he tosses a few pregnancy tests and boxes of condoms into your basket, "just as a precaution". The woman who rings you up takes one look at the scandalous haul and tsks, fixing you with a shaming, disdainful glare.

"Something wrong?" Eddie quips. He wraps an arm around you, tucking you behind him ever so slightly so you're out of the woman's eyeline.

"No," she responds through tight lips. "Sixty-two eighty, please."

At the diner, Eddie asks for a booth in the corner, away from the counter and the front door. You unwrap the medication and take it as instructed, swallowing it down with a cup of weak, slightly burnt coffee. The heavy, greasy plate of hash browns and eggs you're served stills your spinning headache, grounding you along with the feel of Eddie's hand on your thigh.

"How you feeling?" he asks once you return to his apartment.

You nod, too shy to meet his gaze.

"Better," you tell him. "... Thank you."

Eddie lets out a heavy sigh, taking the few steps forward he needs to reach you and wrapping you in a tight, tender hug. You don't hesitate to return it, your hands gripping at the thin fabric covering his back.

"I got you," he murmurs into your hair. "It's gonna be okay."

You can't bring yourself to leave him, so you spend the rest of the day on his couch, watching reruns of The Mary Tyler Moore Show and listening to him strum nervously at his guitar. Around dinner time, he offers to pick you up a pizza to share, which you say you'll pay for to thank him. He doesn't let you.

While he's gone, you take a quick shower, washing away the remnants of last night's debauchery. You step out of the bathroom to find him reclined on the sofa, legs kicked up on the coffee table, cigarette dangling between his lips as he sorts through the Polaroids that were left on his dresser. A box of fresh pizza lays open on the kitchen counter; three slices are missing, and there's a paper plate and napkin waiting for you (you're not sure Eddie even owns any actual dishes).

"You should quit smoking if you're gonna be a dad," you tease him in a deadpan, joining him on the couch with dinner in hand.

He chuckles, tossing a photo of your tongue licking at the head of his cock onto the table. You hate that the sight is so... appealing to you. That you're a little disappointed you don't remember doing it. That you kind of want to do it again.

"Maybe if I'm lucky it'll stop my balls from working," he mumbles.

His hands stop shuffling as he looks at the photo currently in them. He removes the cig from his mouth, exhaling long and slow; contemplative. You lean over to see what's caught his attention.

To your surprise, it's a picture of your face. You're pressed into the pillow on the right side of his bed, eyes lidded, lips curled into a blissful smile, hair knotted with traces of his fingers having run through them and yanked at your scalp. You're clearly fucked out. But you're also... gazing at him. Seeing him. Giving him the kind of heart eyes you only ever do when you're sure he's not looking.

"I remember why I took this one," Eddie says. "I thought... I thought you looked really pretty. My heart felt like it was gonna... fuckin' explode or something. I was wicked happy I finally had you in my bed and that you were gonna fall asleep next to me and... I wanted to keep that moment."

"... Finally?"

His eyes snap up, clearly shocked that he said that exact word out loud. For a moment he says nothing. For a moment you're unsure what the hell there is to say.

But then you're throwing yourself onto him, latching your arms around his neck and trapping his waist between your thighs, holding him like he's the last thing you're ever going to touch. He hugs you back, burying his face in your shoulder, his hands reaching up under your shirt to stroke loving patterns along your back.

"I love you, Eddie Munson," you whisper into his neck.

"I love you," he breathes. "God... I fucking love you. So fucking much."

BONUS:

you and eddie lean over the sink in his apartment, staring at the overturned pregnancy test inside it.

"ready?" you ask.

he nods.

you flip it over.

one pink line.

eddie shrieks - literally shrieks - with relief and lifts you into his arms, spinning you until you're dizzy.

"oh thank god," he gasps, repeatedly kissing your cheek. "ohhhhhh thank god thank god thank god. i'm gonna celebrate by fucking you dumb."

🌹💀get your eddie fix💀🌹

#muerta's works #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x alt!reader

[rallamajoop]

I recently found your blog while working on some things for a Heisenberg fic, and I love it! It made me think more about this HC that I have about Urias and Heisenberg. Since you have a lot of posts that talk about the game files and things like that, I wanted to ask your informed opinion on this if that's alright?

My HC is that Urias is actually Heisenberg's father--not just due to the fact that the concept art and character models look too similar to be a coincidence (in my opinion; I'd also like to add that I've never found anything that confirms or denies (or even refrences) this anywhere online, so if I'm missing something, feel free to let me know!).

I always imagined Heisenberg being close to his father, who likely was the one to teach him everything he knows in terms of engineering (I almost wonder if his name could be Karl Heisenberg Jr., his father being closer in reference to the physicist he's based on than Heisenberg himself. I hope that made sense-).

I imagine Miranda took his father first, whose experimentation results were close to what she was looking for, but no cigar (pun intended), so her next best bet was to hop down the family tree to his son--which yielded much more promising results--giving us the Heisenberg we know and love.

This would definitely explain why Heisenberg is much closer to the lycans than any other character, and why he's able to wrangle them so easily, because he's related to one--even if the consciousness of that relationship is long gone.

I'm so sorry if I came off as weird or anything, your blog just really kind of livened-up my HC and my fic ideas in general, and honestly makes me feelnreally confident about it and wanted to know your thoughts. Thank you! :)

Honestly, my initial kneejerk reaction to this one was “Jeebus, doesn’t the guy have enough dads already?” But on a second thought, heck, maybe there’s actually something to this idea…

The info we get on the possible Heisenberg family from the notes from the concept art is all over the place, and concepts for Heisenberg’s father are the worst offenders. Sturm was supposed to be his real father, Heisenberg’s monster form was supposed to be his father’s, the village leader was supposed to be his father... I assume these were different ideas from different phases (or one was a step-dad?) but sheesh, how many dads does one guy need?

Meanwhile, the one thing we do learn about Urias (apart from the fact he seems to part of some extended Urias family) is that he was supposed to be the village’s leader at some point… but that’s where this whole thing might just get interesting. Because if Heisenberg’s father was meant to be the village leader, and Urias was also supposed to be the village leader… could there have been a point in development where both were true at once, and Heisenberg’s father was going to be Urias? (I mean, as well as the village leader, presumably.)

I mean, they’re both beard-y, grey-haired dudes with a love for giant hammers and long coats. It’s not for nothing that so many fans came out of the early previews for this game assuming Urias was just Heisenberg in lycan form. Those concept pics of Heisenberg's father in a trenchcoat with a shock of grey hair aren't a million miles from Urias' design either.

There's some plausibility to the idea of Miranda experimenting on members of the same family too, especially if they've got cause to claim descent from one of the four founders. I speculated as much myself about what might have happened to the rest of the Beneviento family in my post on her background. Heisenberg specifically strikes me as more the sort of guy who probably wasn't born in the village, given he names his monsters in German, mocks the very idea of his lordship (more on that here), and is clearly the least brainwashed member of the family. But that's interpretation ‒ there's nothing truly definitive either way.

You'd have a harder time squaring 'an engineer who taught Karl all he knew' with Urias' role as the village leader, though ‒ I have trouble picturing anywhere as superstitious, isolated and backward as the village being led by someone with that much 'outsider' knowledge to pass onto his son. RE has certainly tried to sell us on wilder things, but it doesn't really click for me.

As for Heisenberg's affinity for lycans, that's more debatable. He certainly seems to be commanding them at the start of the game (just to really cement all those lycan!Heisenberg theories!) but past that point, any lycan associations dry up very quickly. There are no lycans to be found anywhere in the factory ‒ just soldats, and moroi wearing mind-control visors (called ‘haulers’, but they’re obviously just new versions of the creatures you meet in Donna’s domain). Why bother putting visors on skinny zombie creatures if he could command lycans without them? Doesn’t really seem like Heisenberg’s ability to control lycans goes far beyond ‘stop’ and ‘go’.

True, Heisenberg does leave his Rose-flask in a stronghold full of lycans. But he also sends Ethan to that stronghold, where he has to fight and kill Urias himself. The idea that Heisenberg was ever close to his lycan-dad is going to be hard to square with how casually he sends someone to kill Urias, or how pleased he seems that Ethan succeeded. In Heisenberg’s mind, lycans are nothing so much as they’re expendable – Urias included.

So as far as the finished game goes, I think it’s probably reaching to suggest that Urias (of the extended Urias clan) is related to Heisenberg, who so casually throws him in Ethan’s way as a test. But the possibility that maybe Urias was going to be a Heisenberg at some point in development is a better explanation for the fact the Urias-clan are so big into hammers and trenchcoats than any other explanation I’ve heard yet. It’s certainly no crazier than so many other headcanons I’ve heard around this game.

But speaking of the Urias-clan, let's cover the other Uriasi you can find around the game. Urias Strajer (the bigger version of Urias with the mace that Chris fights near the megamycete) is supposedly Urias' older brother ‒ something the concept art wants you to know so badly it's mentioned on pictures of both of them. So if you still want one of them to be Heisenberg's father, the other is presumably his uncle. Heck, maybe Strajer could be Heisenberg's father, and Urias could be the uncle he never liked very much (despite his excellent taste in hammers), if you want to explain Heisenberg's lacking reaction to Urias' death. Some of the game files for Strajer are labeled 'village elder', which also points some kind of connection. Chock up some more evidence of Miranda experimenting on members of the same family too!

The two axe-wielding optional bosses you can fight in the sawmill and over Claudia's grave are apparently Uriases too ‒ Urias Drac, specifically, though you'd only know that from RE.net, where you can see stats for how many of them you've killed in Mercenaries mode. Personally, I only realised they were supposed to be lycans at all because you can one-shot them with the magnum if you unlock the 'special customisation' that 'does extra damage against lycans' ("extra" apparently means "10x" in special-customisation land). But presumably they're based on the same unused design from the concept art of this one 'lycan' out walking his varcolacs too.

Are these Uriasi too part of the greater Urias-family? Who knows ‒ that one's up to you. Their bodies, with that swollen weak point on the back, do match the model for Urias Strajer (shown below). In fact, I'm pretty sure all the Uriases use the same base model, just with different clothes, armour and hair. So there's some shared DNA in there somewhere (even if only in the sense that recycling a good model saves so many hours of development time).

The name 'Urias' is apparently a term for giant in Romanian, which checks out. Strajer, meanwhile, apparently translates as 'guardian' or 'sentinel', which tracks with the fact Strajer's job is to guard the megamycete. 'Drac', meanwhile, seems to be the same word you might know from Dracul (dragon or devil) or Dracula (son of the above) ‒ though I am also amused that google translate tried to tell me 'urias drac' means 'huge fuck'. 'Giant demon' may be more on the money for that one. Either way, all this etymology does strongly suggest that 'Urias' is more a description than an actual family name. Which is somewhat reassuring, because nothing I've read about Romania suggests they put surnames first.

Probably just to annoy me, personally (because I absolutely will overthink this shit now you've got me started), one of the models used for regular-vanilla-Urias is randomly called 'Gregorio', a name that shows up nowhere else in the game. There is a Grigori ‒ he's that old guy who gave Ethan his first handgun before the lycans dragged him away.

I really do not think we're supposed to take it that Urias is a lycanised Grigori, though ‒ that's rather too big a transformation in not nearly enough time. Otherwise, 'Gregorio' is neither Romanian or German (like both 'Karl' and 'Heisenberg' are) ‒ it's Italian or Spanish, which is just confusing. One of the four founders (more on them here) did have a vaguely similar name ‒ Guglielmo ‒ but I don't think that's really close enough to mean much either. 'Gregorio' could be the name of a developer who worked on the file once, for all I know.

So where does that leave us? Honestly, nowhere very exciting. None of the evidence of this greater Urias family was actually in the playable game (notes on concept art and names you have to find on an unrelated website are very tenuous canon at best). Still, Urias and Urias Strajer are similar enough that it's reasonable to assume they must have some sort of relationship. So take all this as you will (or not at all).

#Karl Heisenberg #Resident Evil Village #Resident Evil #Urias #Urias Strajer #Urias Drac #meta #asks #RE lore

[bryverros]

okay, i've watched the episode 3 for the first time, and i'm going to piece all of my thoughts on it into one post because i need to get it out of my system (i wont, but i can certainly try)!!! :D spoilers for ep3 (and the books? ish? ) ofc, but here goes

positive things:

baby percabeth <333 the dynamics was AMAZING; walker and leahs chemistry is so brilliant, the constant bickering absolutely had me wheezing the entire episode. also, some things they bickered about were actually like, meaningful (the conversation in the new jersey woods)

medusa. 1) mother!!!? 2) i absolutely loved what they did to her, this actually tragic perspective on her character was so refreshing. fpr a moment there, i actually believed they would let her live in peace. because her opinions were kind of very real up to the point where she tried to murder them all, but ig i can support women's wrongs. also, her outfit was like real cool, i absolutely could end up drawing her.

GROVER!!!!! i actually love him so so much, and aryan's portrayal is so precious to me. i really can relate to grover's character to an extent and i felt a huge connection to the scene where he found his uncle. i also actually almost cried there when he asked annabeth and percy to stop arguing and they just continued. felt very validated when he actually spoke up and got his point across!!

the attic scene was hilarious as hell. 10/10

a LOT of percy lines that were like absolutely hilarious. "the most powerful being's in the universe best idea to save his daughter's life was to…. turn her into a.... tree? :/" "she met a pine cone's fate" "i'd call my father but we aren't exactly on speaking terms. yk, bc the life long neglect and all" and the absolutely iconic let's send medusa's head to the gods, it's like reused batteries!!! let's return this shit, they should be honored!!!! walker's portrayal of percy is so spot on

annabeth was really going through it in this episode. she was so "i am right you are wrong" (and she IS right) in this episode, and her fatal flaw is really showing. really liked the comparison between her & medusa

positive things in a bigger picture that i am personally hurt by, so i'm going to complain:

percy & luke's relationship. GOODBYE. they really don't have to do this to me, their bond is so precious, i am going to be so heartbroken :/

sorry:

hermes. lin manuel miranda. i can't believe i'm saying this, but what a good cast for hermes. like, makes you REALLY hate the guy. he's so punchable. i want to punch him SO bad. you go luke, show your father (lin manuel miranda) what he gets for not paying child support. also, that delivery service outfit was the uugliest shit i've encountered, is bro a god even. he also found a way to sing.....

#i'd keep going but im really sleepy to review this post and see if i missed anything #so there goes #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo series #pjo spoilers #walker scobell #leah sava jeffries #aryan simhadri #annabeth chase #grover underwood

[artist-issues]

What were some of the things you enjoyed about Encanto? I wanted to like it but it just didn't do it for me.

I thought it was really well-done. There are some story things that don’t sit right with me, and the message is not good, and some of the characterizations are a little irresponsible if you want to consider it a kid’s movie… but I’ll leave that for a different post.

I liked how every character’s design felt like they put so much thought into it. I don’t just mean the costumes (even though they’re genius. Obviously Mirabel’s outfit having little nods to each member of her family, looking like she made it herself just like every helpful thing she does is on her own without superpowers, details like that, we’re great.) I mean, the fact that every character could be separated from the rest of the cast, plopped in their own movie, and still “look” like the main character. At first I didn’t like that. It wasn’t very Bancroft of them. But then I realized:

That’s the point of the movie. Everybody’s special. Everybody’s a miracle on their own, everybody is the main character of their own story, everybody’s important. So they all look like and even have personalities interesting enough to have their own movie, each.

I thought a lot of the humor really hit! Maybe my favorite gag was when Bruno “falls” but then it turns out, no, he’s fine.

I do love the music. I do. I don’t know, I’ve never loved that all of Lin Manuel Miranda’s songs sound like…Lin Manuel Miranda…and all of the main characters sound like him when they sing…but still, I thought the songs had a feeling of unity to them.

I love that the heavy-lifting, muscly girl character sings a song about how she wishes she could put down the weight of expectations—specifically to be strong—and there’s this visual thing in the background. When she sings “but wait! If I could shake! This growing weight!” he donkeys she was carrying around suddenly are wearing makeup and look like unicorns. That could just as easily have been a choice made to accentuate the sudden calm, weightless vibe of the song…they’re dressed like unicorns because it’s a comedic way to communicate “dream sequence…” But I like to think it was also a nod to it being okay for Luisa to STOP being all “stronger than Gaston” and embrace actual soft girliness.

I think the chemistry between a lot of the family members was hit-or-miss, because Mirabel seems awkward around Luisa and her cousins, but much more realistic with Isabella or her mom. But I do think a lot of her interactions with her mom and Isabella are relatable, and realistic. Felt like the filmmakers were putting some genuine experiences into those conversations, and that always boosts the scene.

I think the main character is genuinely likeable—or at least, you can feel for her for a lot of the movie. I mean, sometimes she comes off as annoying to me, but I DON’T think you can walk away from it going, “the filmmakers didn’t know who Mirabel was, she was just whatever they needed her to be in the moment.” I think they had her characterization down: she’s always treading water to keep her head above feeling sorry for herself by refusing to feel sorry for herself, and focus on others.

That’s all kind of washed down the drain by the message being so self-focused, but that’s a post for another time.

Lastly, the written dialogue is pretty good! Again, I think that comes from having a clear idea of what your movie is trying to say, and who each of your characters are in order to nail that message—and Encanto does that, for better or worse.

It knows that it’s trying to say, “all your flaws, strengths, potential and failures make you who you are: and who you are is special.” I don’t love that. But it says it clearly and engagingly, even if…

…well, no, another post! 😅 another time!

#Encanto #Encanto critique #Encanto positive #Disney’s Encanto #Bruno #Mirabel #lin manuel miranda

[kingpreciouswrld]

soo i’m testing your miranda one shot where the reader comes home after some time away and i was thinking something like that with gwendoline??? gwen has been gone shooting for a new movie or show and tells reader that she won’t be home for a another week or so but ends up coming home earlier as a surprise

pairing: Gwendoline Christie x Reader

word count: 578

A/N: Sorry it's so short, I tried! This was actually a great idea, I'm surprised that I didn't think of it!!

It was rare that Gwen was away from home for so long, but for shooting the show Wednesday, she was shooting for 8 months in Romania. You could've gone with her but you had other obligations that kept you at home.

You guys kept in touch everyday, calling each other or texting each other what's happening. You'd always get picture texts from Gwen in her outfits and you had to say that you absolutely loved the Larissa Weems fits.

The time difference made calls hard but you'd stay up as late as it would take to hear and see Gwen. She was your light and you wouldn't miss the call for the world.

It was down to the wire when you guys started talking about being back together. You had so many things to show Gwen and you were excited to finally be in her arms again. Little did you know, Gwen was set on surprising you at home.

The next day, you called Gwen at the usual time,

"So when does your flight come in next week?"

"I'm so sorry love but Tim wants me to stay a bit longer to reshoot some scenes with Christina. Jenna got COVID so we have done extra time for redos."

You frowned, one, because Gwen wouldn't be home until later but two, because she was exposed to COVID and could get sick herself, "Is Jenna okay? Poor girl."

"Jenna will be okay darling, they're taking precautions and she's taken care of," Gwen covered her mouth piece and said thank you to her assistant who took her suitcase off of the conveyor belt.

"Okay well…how're things going over there? Was it fun in Romania? It definitely looks beautiful." 

Gwen had muted herself as she got into her cab and unmuted herself when you finished rambling, "Oh it's just amazing here darling, we should really come here together one day. You would like it here."

You hummed as you say down on the couch,"I would, wouldn't I? Also, I really love your Larissa outfits, do you think you could take some home?" You asked shyly.

Gwen smirked, "You like Larissa, hm? Well I'll see what I can do love, okay?" 

Your stomach tingled and your toes unintentionally curled at the thought of having Gwen as Principle Weems at home, "Yes babe, thank you!"

"Of course baby doll," the older woman chuckled. She muted herself again as the cab stopped in front of the house. She got out her suitcases and walked up to the front door, "Darling, there should be a package at the front door, do you think you could bring it inside for me?"

You hummed and got off the couch, "Yeah, I can go grab it real quick. What did you get?"

Gwen covered the peep hole with her hand, just in case you looked. You didn't. You opened the door to find Gwen in her lounge wear, looking exhausted but happy to see you.

"Gwen!"

You squealed in surprise before jumping into her arms. You clung to her like a koala and Gwen laughed as she one handedly moved her suitcases inside. You started kissing her neck, your hand tangled in her hair. Gwen chuckled and hummed, "Don't start anything you can't finish bunny."

You blushed and stopped kissing her neck but pulled back and gave her a soft kiss to her lips, Gwen met you halfway and kissed you back. 

"Mmm what a welcome home indeed."

#gwendoline christie x reader #gwendoline christie

[neos-schlond-poofa]

Idk your post just gave weird and judgmental vibes like of course irl we wouldn’t want someone like Miranda. she’s fictional and there are certain aspects of her that make her interesting to us. I’m all for the slander but like I need ppl to remember differences between fiction + reality and that Miranda stans are sane (I know, crazy right) and wouldn’t actively seek someone like her irl -💩 anon

Okay, so I'd just like to start this off with, I really don't mean any ill intentions towards Miranda stans. I know most of you guys are fairly normal people who just have an obsession with her.

I will admit, yeah, I am being judgmental. I do find it weird when people absolutely glamorize Miranda and her relationship with MC, and that just fuels my hate for Miranda more. She's already a bad character (in the sense of actions; she's a fairly well written character in both RL and RE universes, and I always will admit when a character I don't like is still well-written), and the fact that the fandom kind of... doesn't accept that worsens it. Like, yeah. Most are like "she's so evil BUT she's my wife too" but then continue to ignore how evil she is!! She throws pens at MC!! I'm never getting over that I'm so sorry.

But. IF YOU GET WHAT I'M SAYING LIKE. Her evilness is never acknowledged properly, it's ignored, which leads to the romanticization of her and her route. Does this make sense??

When I see Miranda stans just absolutely adoring her, it does come off weird too. You say fiction isn't reality, but to see people cherish a toxic partner in media? It does come off weird. Like. If she wasn't even related to romance too (like if Miranda x MC didn't exist), wouldn't be as much of a problem. But she is. She's literally (and sadly) destined to be with MC, and people love that, they wish they were in a relationship with her too (FICTIONALLY. I KNOW ITS NOT IRL, BUT LIKE, YOU GET WHAT I MEAN??).

Obviously, not going to get into details, but I was in a toxic relationship before with someone who is literally a Miranda. And it does come off really weird to see people be literally in love with the idea of a relationship with her. I'm much more neutral on RE Miranda; that's just silly slander, Ethan's not trying to get with her. That's just a villain. But RL Miranda is quite literally just a toxic partner. I will go into a deep-dive one day about it, and I have to be honest, I do judge some Miranda fans for the things they say about her. I get y'all won't actually seek out a relationship with her in the real world but... fiction still DOES affect reality. And her glamorization of a toxic relationship and partner is very much present in this fandom and it will add onto my slander for her. I don't mean to actively hurt the feelings of any Miranda stans with my post; it's just me being a hater towards Miranda, and I don't want my ideals to be misinterpreted. I get how the caption for my last edit does that, I will admit that. But all my hatred is really just targeted at her.

So basically, no hate meant to Miranda fans, I get fiction isn't reality but it DOES affect it (I've spoke about this before with Donna), and I get you guys don't actually want a relationship with Miranda. This is NOT intended to be an attack on Miranda stans; any negative feelings I harbor are purely towards Miranda.

Toodles, that one anon who's name I can't say because it'll shadowban my post.

#resident lover

[no-phrogs-in-hats]

If I Could Turn Back Time

Larissa Weems x fem!reader

Warnings: SMUT (Larissa receiving)

Chapter 14 (!!!)

In the morning, I wake before Larissa. After almost twenty minutes of watching her breathe quietly and admiring all of the “flaws” that her skin has–these were perfections in my eyes–I got out of bed and dressed before going to the kitchen.

I set a kettle of water on the stove to boil, preparing breakfast for the both of us–the eggs scrambled, the bacon cooked, the pancakes flipped. Half way through, and tired and groggy Larissa shuffled into the room. 

“Good morning,” she crumbled, wrapping her arms around my waist and resting her chin on top of my head.

I smiled, “Morning. There's some boiling water over there if you’d like tea.”

“Oh, is it ‘cause I’m English?” she teased. Larissa leaned down to give me a peck on the cheek. “Thank you, darling.”

Making herself a cup of tea, she decided to bring up the previous night. “I swear, you’re a carbon copy of her,” Larissa chuckled, playing with the string of the teabag. “I was actually quite surprised. I thought I was seeing double.”

I smiled, a bittersweet feeling making my heart flutter as I remembered the years that the only way I’d be compared to my mother was by looks. “It’s funny, actually. We’re so similar in mannerisms and looks that my father sometimes jokes that I’m not even his.”

“Your mother,” Larissa said. “Is she an Outcast?”

As I plated our eggs, I answered her question. “Yeah. It’s actually really cool. She can create matter out of almost nothing–living or inanimate.”

“Is that why she chose to become a physicist?” Larissa asked before sipping her tea. I looked at her, confused, before it came to me. But, I didn’t need to say anything, because she answered for me. “I overheard the argument…I’m sorry. How are you doing?”

“I’m…Alright,” I responded, and removed the bacon and pancakes from the stove. “It wasn’t the first major argument we’ve had.”

We decided to drop the subject as we ate, and instead, Larissa brought up today’s parents’ weekend activities. “I was thinking you and I could participate in the four-or-three-legged race.”

I giggled. “Isn’t that for the parents and students? Maybe, instead, we could do it with students whose parents didn’t show up. It’s going on until five when dinner starts.”

Larissa was smiling ear to ear as she took my hand and squeezed it. “I think that is a wonderful idea.” 

At eleven, just before lunch, Larissa and I tied ourselves to a student’s legs, Larissa on her right, and me on her left. The sound of her giggles brought joy to my heart–to know we impacted this girl’s life with something as simple as doing a silly race with her. After finishing the race (certainly not in first place after struggling with our uneven height and stride distribution) Larissa and I went on to the next student to participate in the water balloon toss. 

The feeling to know you have the ability to have such an impact on a single life is something you can’t describe. This is why I began teaching. To make learning more interesting. To care for these kids when their parents aren’t able to. My mother has always been disappointed in my career path, and every time she sees me, she makes it known. But, when I walk into my classroom, and I see the students’ faces light up, I know I’ve chosen correctly. I refuse to believe that I’d be happy anywhere else.

When twelve-thirty came, Larissa and I sat at a picnic table with other students. When she left, on a quest to find someone inside, the students and I were thrown into an animated conversation about the use of the Oxford comma. My attention was drawn by the sheriff and three officers behind him.

“Can I ask what the problem is, Sheriff?” Larissa came back outside, all formalities present in her tall stature.

Sheriff Galpin completely ignored Larissa, instead, going straight to his target. “Gomez Addams!” he called. “You’re under arrest for the murder of Garret Gates.” As he read off Gomez’s Miranda rights, murmurs filled the Quad. I looked at the three others, all standing frozen.

Larissa, who stood in one spot, clearly annoyed, looked at me. I could see it in her eyes and her stark, pale face–something plagued her mind about this situation. 

That night, I chose to stay with Larissa in her quarters. I laid there, looking up at her as she quietly read her book, and she giggled. “You’ve been staring at me for a while.”

“I can’t help it,” I grinned. I trailed my finger up and down, lightly tracing the soft skin of her exposed thigh. “You know…” I sat up and straddled her lap, taking her book from her hands and setting it down on the nightstand. “I still haven’t had the opportunity to pay you back for the other night.”

As I sit there, I admire each one of her features. My thumb runs along her lower lip and I move from there to her jaw, stroking her cheek and leaning down to kiss her softly. She smiles and pulls away. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.” 

Larissa kisses me again and after wrapping her arms around me, she flips us over so that I’m back on the bed. I squeal and giggle as she places kisses all over my face–the purest form of serotonin and dopamine I could receive at that point. Hooking my legs around her waist, I flipped us over again. “I told you…It’s my turn.”

My hands ran up and down her body, going under her slip. I hesitated and looked at her, “Can I take this off?” When Larissa gave me a frantic nod followed by a ‘yes’, I smiled and pulled it over her head and followed with her underwear.

She gasped at the feeling of my lips skimming over her bare skin. I kissed down her neck and chest, lips wrapping around her nipple and my hand palming her other breast. Her fingers raked through my hair as her breathing grew heavier and mumbles of curses fell from her lips. “That’s it, darling…just like that…mmm, good girl.”

Christ, the things this woman does to me. 

My lips continued further down and each press of a kiss brought her more goosebumps. “Are you enjoying yourself?” I muttered. 

Larissa opened her eyes and looked down at me. “God, yes,” she huffed, and my hands gripped her thighs tightly.

When they slid up to the apex, my grip softened and pushed them further apart, and without warning, my tongue licked a stripe up her slit, lips wrapping around her clit and sucking hard. Her breath caught in her throat and she let a whimper escape. 

I continued this for some time as her hips bucked, trying desperately to get more, and I gave her what she wanted by slipping my fingers into her entrance. She let out the first moan I had ever heard from her and, my god, my heart almost beat out my chest. 

Larissa uttered my name, her hand removing itself from my hair and moving to grab my own. She held it tightly as she finished and looked down at me to see me lick my fingers clean. She let out an airy laugh as I climbed on top of her. 

“I quite liked that,” she snickered, kissing me on the lips. 

Laughing, I cupped her cheeks and pressed a firmer kiss to her lips. “I quite liked it too.”

After taking my own night clothes off, I curled up in Larissa’s arms, relishing in the warmth. We didn't speak for some time, but then, she spoke up. “Why don’t you move here?”

“What?”

“You can bring your cat,” she said. “He can be the school mascot.” I giggled and sat up, leaning on my elbow. “It sounds tempting, I won’t lie.”

Larissa kissed me again. “Give into the temptation, darling,” she whispered, and pulled me close again. 

When her hands started to grasp at my bare skin, things became heated once again and I broke away for air. “I might have to give into it after all.” Climbing on top of me, she let her fingers toy with the hem of my underwear. Her voice was low and breathy, and a sinful amount of seduction dripped from her tongue. “That’s it…give into it. Give into all of it. Be my good girl and surrender everything to me…”

#gwendoline christie #larissa weems #larissa weems x reader #wednesday #fanfic #gwendoline christie x reader #larissa weems smut #my own smut turns me on