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thinkwosolife23 · 11 months

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Protect Her, Alessia Russo

Being a police officer was an incredibly demanding job; both physically and mentally. You had seem some things that no human should ever had to see, you were made to work stupidly long hours and everyday you were putting your life on the line.

But it was your dream job. It was you ever wanted to do. From being a little girl, you always dreamed over becoming a police officer. You dreamed of making a difference in the world, to help make the world a safer place to be in. Being a woman made the process of becoming a police officer a hell of lot more difficult. People had constantly doubted your capabillity and your quality as a police officer because of your gender. So, it fuelled you all the more. And at 22, you stand as the youngest Chief Constable of the police force.

Having your dream job was amazing but nothing will ever beat the feeling of being able to go home to your dream girl. You had met Alessia at the Euros. Along with a few others, you were assigned as security for the England Women's Team throughout the Euros. You had managed to muster up the confidence to ask her out after the Euros Final and it all went from there. Up until a few months ago, you and her were over 4 hours away from each other. Her being in Manchester and you being in London. But when she signed for Arsenal you had asked her to move in with you and it had been more than a dream to live with her. You had now been together for a little over a year.

Speaking of your girl, you had just got back home after a long and grueling 12 hour shift. All you wanted was to be with your lover.

"Sweetheart, I'm back home." You shouted as you made your way into your home, taking your work boots and vest off on the way leaving them bye the front door.

"I'm upstairs, Babe. I'm just on a live." She souted back to you, causing you to run up the stairs making your way to yours and Alessias shared bedroom.

There she was, sat by her dressing table chatting away to her phone as if there was nothing else around her. You walked over to where she was sat, wrapping your hands over her shoulders before kissing her forehead. As soon as she felt your prescence , she jumped up from her seat. Standing in front of you, wrapping her arms around your neck, leaning up to place multiple pecks on your lips, not wanting to show too much PDA on her live.

You went and sat where she was sat in front of her phone before patting your lap signalling her to sit. Her arms coming around your neck whilst one of yours was wrapped possessively around her waist and the other resting on her thigh making sure she didn't slip off you.

"I've missed you." You whispered to her, as you tucked your head in the crook of her neck placing a kiss there.

"I've missed you too, but babe we're on a live." She laughed slightly, her hands came to pull your head out of her neck. You immediately falshed her an innocent smile, telling her that you didn't think you were doing anything wrong.

You and Alessia spent the next half an hour on live, talking to the fans and answering all sorts of questions, before you both said bye and ended the live.

As soon as Alessia put her phone down and ended the video, you stood up with her still in your hold. You turned around and put her on your bed before climbing over the top of her. Your hands resting either side of her head, hovering you face just inches away from hers.

"I forgot how good you looked in uniform." She said whilst grabbing your top, pulling you down so your lips met hers. The kiss messy and passionate; not being able to have each other's physical touch for the last 12 hours was really showing.

"Hmm, is that so?" You questioned, pulling your lips from hers before dipping your head into her neck going for the spot you know makes her like putty in your hands.

You were suddenly distracted from your current activities when you heard a smashing sound coming from downstairs. Alessia body just froze whilst you quickly sat up, recognising that someone else was in your house. The sound of smashing and footsteps ran through your house.

Your officer instincs soon kicked in, standing up to make your way out of your bedroom to make your way downstairs.

"Less, darling i've got to go downstairs." You whispered to her, trying to make sure that you weren't heard.

"Y/N, i'm scared." She told you, the fear she held was evident on her face, her eyes becoming red showing that she was trying not to cry.

You reached over and pulled her so she was sat on the edge of your bed, you standing inbetween her legs. You hands gently grabbed her face so she was looking up at you before telling her, "Hey, look at me. I will not let anything happen to you. I'll do anything, everything to make sure I protect you. I'll keep you safe. But sweetheart, to do that, I need to go downstairs."

"Let me come with you."

"No, Alessia. I can't risk that. I need you stay up here." You told her sternly, hoping the use of her name re-enforced your seriousness.

Her arms gripping tight around your waist, her face digging in to your stomach.

"Less. I need you stay in here, I need you to call the police for me."

"No one's gonna be calling the police!" A low, unknown voice stated but before you could turn around you felt something smash against your head, causing you to drop to the floor.

You heard Alessia gasp at what she had just seen. You managed to reach for the back of your head and when you brought your hand back round, it was covered in blood.

It took you another few minutes to again understand what was happening, the impact on your head was hard enough to make you feel dizzy and confused.

You looked over one side and Alessia was still sat on the bed, completely frozen in her spot, looking down at you. Tears streaming down her face.

You turned your hear and looked to see that whoever was in your house, was face deep routing through yours and Alessias drawers. This was your chance, your only chance.

You had to keep her safe. You had to protect Alessia.

So, you managed to muster up the energy to quickly get up and run towards him and take him down to the ground.

Then, it became a brawl. You managed keep him on the ground until another spell of dizziness hit you giving him the opportunity to take control. To which he did, kneeing your harshly in the stomach. Rolling the pair of you over, so that now he was on top: you tried to fight him off but your dazed state was clearly making you weaker.

And then you felt it.

He had put a knife straight into your stomach before pulling it out meaning that a substancial amount of blood was pouring out of your stomach.

Before anything else could happen, he was quick to get up and dash out of your house. The realisation of what he had just done was kicking in.

As soon as he left the room, Alessia came running towards you. Taking her hoodie off, putting over the bleeding mess on your stomach. You groaned at the pressure that was on your stomach, the pain was becoming unbearable. You felt Alessia pull your head onto her lap, beginning to feel her tears falling onto your face.

Your vision was becoming blurrier and sounds were muffled but you could just about make out that Alessia was on the phone.

You could feel your eyes beginning to close, the blood loss becoming too much for your body to cope with.

"Baby, NO! You need to stay awake for me. The ambulance are on the way." She said, placing a kiss on your forehead. Her voice muffled, due to her crying.

"I love you, Less." You told her, through ragged breathing and slurred words.

Alessia could hear how strained your voice was, the pain you were in was clearly showing through your voice.

"No, no. You don't need to tell me that. Baby, your okay." Her tears flowing worse now, the realisation of what you were actually trying to tell her was not what she wanted to think about.

But you didn't get the chance to reply, your body shutting down due to your pain and the amount of blood you had loss.

Alessia's crying was the only sound running through your house as she looked down to see that you had closed your eyes and your body had become a dead weight on her legs.

The ambulance and police got there minutes after that. The paramedics were quick to take you to the ambulance and rush you to the hospital. The whole journey Alessia hand never left your, right the way until they had to take to you to hospital.

Alessia sat there in the waiting room waiting for news about you. She had rang her parents who were currently in Manchester so it would take them a couple of hours to reach the hospital. So, she rang Leah who was straight down to the hospital.

"Oh, Less. I'm so sorry sweet." She told her whilst sitting next to her wrapping her into a hug.

Alessia leaning into Leah's hold, the weight of the afternoon completely taking a toll on her body. Leah couldn't tell her she weren't worried, Alessia's reaction didn't exactly bring any sort of reassurement to her. On Alessia's team, Leah and Ella were definatly the ones you were closest too. The amount of double dates Alessia had dragged you on with Ella and Joe was just insane,

Alessia were waiting another couple of hours before anything happened, it was getting closer to the time where everyone was made to leave the hospital but Alessia still had no news.

"I'm not going. Just can someone please tell me whats going on." She told one of the docters, tears flowing on her face all over again.

"Miss Russo. Y/N Y/L/N, her surgery went well, she is stable but she needs rest, which is why we have put her into a coma. I suggest you go home and get some sleep before seeing her." The doctor told Alessia, re-assuring her that things went aswell as they could.

"C'mon Less, you can stay at mine tonight and we can come back tommorow and see her, yeah." Leah said, putting her arms over Alessias shoulder leading her out of the hospital.

The next few days were a blur for Alessia. She didn't go to training but Leah had explained why she wasn't there and Jonas had contacted Alessia letting her know that everyone was thinking of you and her. Her parents and brothers had got to the hospital the next morning.

Alessia spent all day by your bedside: holding your hand, telling you her favourite memories and what she wants to do with you in the future.

4 days after your surgery, the doctors were happy with how your body was healing and took the tubes away that were helping you breath. Meaning your were breathing by yourself again.

The next day, Alessia was in the hospital as early as she could be, exactly like the other days. Making her way towards your room, sitting by your bed, taking ahold of your hand.

But today was different, she finally felt you try and squeeze her hand.

"Y/N, baby. Can you hear me?" She asked you, her voice soft so she didn't startle you.

"Less?" You groaned. Your face scrunching up as your eyes were reacting to the bright light above you.

"Yeah, i'm here. I'm right here." Her eyes beginning to water, her emotional side getting the better of her.

"Please don't cry, i'm okay."

"I was so scared, I thought I was going to lose you." She said whilst crying still, both her hands now gripping yours.

"Come here, Less." You slid over to the side of your bed so that Alessia could lay there aswell.

She carefully got up onto your bed, lifting her arm up so you could rest your head on her chest. You groaned as you lent down on her, the pain was still there in your stomach. You wrapped your arms around her waist whilst one of hers gently rubbed your back, the other pushing your hair out of your face.

"Hey, it'll take more than some scrawn to kill me off. You stuck with me, love." You told her, trying to make light of the situation.

"I'm perfectly fine with that." She told you, laughing at your way with words.

"I love you, Y/N"

"I love you too, Less. So much."

#woso #woso x reader #woso imagine #alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo imagine #alessia russo x y/n #awfc #arsenal women #leah williamson #arsenal wfc #engwnt #lionesses #woso fanfics

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felicitywilds · 1 year

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The Magiciatron

A couple of posts came across my dash recently in quick succession about Crowley and Aziraphale’s costuming, and boy howdy did they get me Thinking™. The details of those posts are not super relevant, but they did inspire this one and were quite insightful, so I’d recommend giving them a read anyway, as well as the several other posts I have linked throughout where ideas were taken. Please do give those a read/reblog as well!

And then take a look at this post I saw:

“You’re not trying to trick me, are you?”

Now kindly consider the fact that Crowley is beside Muriel’s left shoulder (like an angel) and the Metatron is on Aziraphale’s right (like a demon). And notice, like I did, that the lapels on his coat are some of the lowest we’ve seen. Which, for an angel-who-isn’t-Aziraphale, and you know, the literal fucking voice of God, is pretty fucking weird. But I digress.

Because what’s important here is that you’re reminded, like I was, how weird it is that the Metatron is wearing so much black.

Surely the most important angel we’ve ever met-- who up to this point, has only ever been depicted as a brilliantly glowing white head, and is (stage blocking-wise, literally) above inhabiting the typical corporations that other angels have, even while in heaven-- surely he would be sporting the cleanest, purest, whitest clothes imaginable, right?

But... he isn’t. He’s not wearing grey or beige like any of the other angels, or even white like Muriel’s constable uniform, he’s wearing black. That’s weird! Angels don’t wear black! Oh... well except when they’re magicians, of course:

(X, X)

But even in his magician costumes, Aziraphale retains many elements of his angelic nature: the upward-pointed lapels; the white cuffs poking out of his sleeves; the floppy bow ties; the single-button or open jacket revealing the soft gold and velvet vests. This is merely a flashy costume! Don’t worry folks, he’s still the same, good old angel underneath!

The Metatron, on the other hand, does not have any of these angelic indicators. Underneath his magician’s coat-- which is big and loose, falls closed in front of him in a way that obscures his suit, and has extremely downward-pointing lapels-- he wears a dark tie, and a very normal-looking, white, pinstripe shirt. No angelic tartan to be seen, either. It’s a very understated, business-minded look compared to Aziraphale’s flashy stage getups. Also worth noting imo is that in many scenes, the Metatron has his hands in his pockets, which obscures his form even more.

Now this might be indicative of something more, some larger scheme we haven’t deduced yet, but by itself it’s a brilliant move by the costuming department, adding yet another perfectly conniving layer to the Metatron’s manipulations:

Dress him in the magician’s coat and send him on stage, where his tricks are hidden in plain sight...

Engage the audience to participate in a dramatic reveal...

Reassure his volunteer that his props are completely normal by offering them up for inspection...

Have the assistant do all the flashy presentation for him...

So that while the audience is distracted, they fail to notice...

... that a swap has been made...

And then the curtain falls. Show over. Audience fooled. Job well done.

The End.

#good omens #good omens meta #good omens analysis #good omens season 2 #good omens spoilers #gomens #gomens meta #aziraphale #the metatron #by me #hes got such a smug look on his face as aziraphale steps into the elevator #he performed his trick flawlessly #be advised the stand-ins for audience and volunteer and assistant are mutable in this metaphor #the only constant is that the metatron is the magician #ok i think thats it SHOOTING THIS OUT INTO THE ETHER NOW #this line of thinking was MOSTLY inspired by the crowley post #and his turtleneck being his 'spy outfit'#which got me thinking about if his white server uniform at warlocks birthday counted as a spy outfit #bc it has lapels (pointed up) whereas no other servers do #which then got me thinking about how hes wearing white and aziraphale black #and then i saw that first post and remembered that metatron ALSO wears black #and then i thought about it for four days then posted this #this is not supporting evidence for coffee theory!!!!!!!#this is a doyalist analysis of costuming and what metatrons role is in that scene #ty for reading

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psychosith · 11 months

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Talk to Me

Din Djarin x Jedi!Reader

summary: You, Din, and Bo have been asked to “take care” of the malfunctioning droids on Plazir-15, and the Mandalorians don’t know much about the Jedi’s involvement in the Clone Wars.

warnings: mentions of trauma/ptsd, panic attacks, child endangerment(?), mentions of war, mild injuries/blood, i can’t think of anything else but lmk if i missed something

a/n: this is based on a request from @otter-nonsense620! it’s been a hot minute since i’ve watched the Mando so this might not be totally accurate but… wtv. when i was writing this i was imagining the characters had feelings for each other but hadn’t confessed yet, but you can read this as platonic or romantic. Anyways, enjoy!

“Our constables are unequipped to confront battle droids,” the duchess said.

“Ah- former battle droids,” the duke corrected, looking pleased with himself. “They’ve been rehabilitated.”

You glanced nervously between Bo and Din. You wanted to be helpful to them and their cause, but hearing the words battle droid again for the first time since the war caused an unexpected spike of panic in you. The rest of the conversation with the duchess was muted in your ears, your mind running a mile a minute. Din’s husky voice in your ear brought you back to the present, “We’re leaving.”

You figured that Bo and Din had accepted the duke’s deal and your anxiety could only grow as you speak to the security officer and then the Ugnaughts. In the hyper loop on the way to the loading docks, you’re bouncing your knee and worrying the inside of your cheek when Bo takes notice.

“Hey,” she says, resting a hand on your knee, “what’s up, y/n?”

You look up from the ground to meet her eyes and find genuine worry, but dismiss her concerns nonetheless. “I’m fine, Bo. Don’t worry about me.”

She pulls her hand back and nods her head, yet you can still see a hint of concern as she resumes conversation with Din, who has paid no mind to your conversation.

You try to control your breathing as you walk through the loading docks, recalling your time in the Order. Battle droids of all kind are working various jobs on the docks, and you can recognize almost every model, having taken many down in the war. You’re following a line of centurion droids when you come to an access point headed by a B-1 model. It’s almost identical to the models that fought in the war, and you find yourself spiraling into a memory from years ago…

You knew a war was coming, but you didn’t know this was how. You, your master, and many of the other members of the Order had gone to Geonosis to rescue Obi-Wan Kenobi from Count Dooku. You remember being excited, as you were barely a teenager and this was your first official “battle”. The arena was packed, and you knew Jedi were scattered secretly throughout the stands.

When you finally ended up on the field, surrounded by droids, you began to grasp what was going on. This was war. You stood frozen as your friends and colleagues dropped dead in the sand. Dust was filling your lungs and blood covered every surface in sight.

A hand grasped at the bottom of your robes, and you looked down at the body. It was your master, collapsed at your feet with a nasty blaster wound in her side. You dropped to your knees and tried to stop the blood flowing from her wounds, the substance thick and warm on your shaky hands. A sharp ringing in your ears blocked out your master’s final words before her eyes glazed over. A large shadow loomed over you and you followed it to where a B-2 unit stood with a blaster aimed at your head. A scream was caught in your throat, unable to escape from the pure shock coursing through your veins. A green saber slashed through the droid just in time, and the jedi wielding it offered a hand to help you up. Your master’s blood coating your hands and robes, you ignited your lightsaber and moved to a proper fighting stance.

You were ripped from your memory when Din was thrown across the docks, likely by the centurion with an extended fist. The droid breaks out into a run as Bo starts firing at it. Your heartbeat rises in a crescendo as scenes from the war replay in your head and you are left useless to stop them. You’re struggling to breathe and sobs are shaking your entire body. Though you can hardly move, you begin to stumble back to the hyper loop and to the rooms provided to you by the duke and duchess.

Your hands are warm and you keep seeing your masters eyes in your head, staring dully into yours. Violent tremors rack your body and your skin is burning hot. You can almost feel phantom blood soaking into your robes, and you tear and paw at your sleeves.

You’re hysterical when Din finds you curled up against the wall. Tears stain your cheeks and you’re muttering hopelessly to yourself about “i wanna go home,” and, “i’m sorry i’m so sorry.”

For a long moment, Din doesn’t know what to do. He stands there feeling helpless as he watches you suffer. His body moves of its own accord when he crouches next to you and places a warm hand on your arm. Your gaze finds him with a sense of numbness in your eyes. “Hey,” he says softly, “I’m here.”

You say nothing in response but tears come back into your eyes and he buries you in his arms, letting you cry into his shoulder as much as you need. Din is the one to break the silence.

“What’s wrong, y/n?” he asks.

“It’s stupid,” you say.

“It’s not stupid, he says, “talk to me.”

So you do. You tell him everything. Your master, your many battles in the war, every time you brushed with death. A weight was lifted off your shoulders, and he was the one to hoist the burden. Din held you the whole time, rubbing soothing circles into your back. Then you told him why you were crying now.

“It’s just, seeing all those droids again…” you start.

“Y/n,” he says sorrowfully, “if I had known.”

“It’s not your fault, Din. You couldn’t have known.” you reassure him.

“I should have. You shouldn’t have to bear that all by yourself.” He thought for a moment. “I’m always here, you know. Whatever you’re going through, you don’t have to go through it alone. You can always talk to me.”

You touch his arm softly, “I know that now, Din.”

Slowly, he starts to stand up and offers you his hand. “C’mon. Let’s get you in bed.”

He leads to to your bed and as you’re getting settled under the thick blanket, you feel the bed dip beneath you as he sits next to you.

“Scoot over,” he says, and you oblige. His arms go to wrap around your waist, and he pulls your body towards his in a comforting manner. He holds you this way for the rest of the night, and as you feel yourself drift into sleep, you know you are loved.

a/n 2: lowkey i hate this but i had no motivation also sorry to the person who requested this i reread your prompt and it said “trauma but hidden really well.” … oops. it’s already written so so sorry js message me if you hate it i’ll rewrite😭

#star wars #star wars x reader #din djarin #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian #grogu #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #comfort #clone wars #attack of the clones #hurt/comfort #idk what else to put

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weemssapphic · 1 year

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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.

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4rtificialfolio · 5 months

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It’s Complicated, My Darling - Chapter 1

Chpt. 1: “Cat got your tongue, doll?”

“Ada is an operative in the 1940s from Brighton in England, sent over to New York City to work with the Americans, uncovering secrets and spying on potential suspects. She meets a handsome young man, Nick Folio, on the train into the city; little does she know how that moment would change the trajectory of her life”

Parings: Nick folio X OFC (Ada Chapman)

Word count: 1.6K

Chapter Warnings: brief mention of war, slightly suggestive, explicit language, fluff

Series master list

(see masterlist for overall warnings, chapter begins below the cut)

Ada

May 20th 1941

New York City, USA

7:00 am

Dear Diary,

Yesterday is still a haze and I barely slept all night, tossing and turning thinking about him. I still can’t believe my luck or lack thereof. Things are always too good to be true and yesterday proved that. God damn you, Nick. It had to be you didn’t it? Who am I kidding, we met once and he’s cute but that’s it. I don’t know him, he was just an attractive man on the train who just so happens to be the man I’m being told to track. It can’t be so different from any other mission, can it? I can do this, I’m bloody brilliant at this job and this mission will be a piece of cake, I hope.

In other news, Dad sent another letter. He thinks they might have to evacuate soon, after the raid on the Portsmouth docs the whole town is on edge but hopefully, it won’t come to that. Denis is already missing and I don’t know what I’d do if I lost Dad and Peggy too. I can’t think about that, I shouldn’t.

Anyway, I’ll be back tomorrow.

I’m sure I’ll have a more interesting update after I’ve started my undercover work today,

Ada

The Precinct, 9:30 am

My train was delayed today, my first day on the cover job and I’m already late. Great first impression Ada!

“Miss Chapman, I presume?” a middle-aged man, with a not-so-flattering navy blue suit and a grey homburg hat that he definitely should’ve thrown away in the 30s, calls my name from across the ground floor.

“A little late but I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt considering It’s your first day”. By the affirmative tone of his low, grumbling voice, I assume he’s the captain; Michael Brewer. I wonder if he knows he’s missing a button on his shirt?

“Yes sir, nice to meet you. Apologies for my Tardiness”

“Please follow me, I’ll take you to your desk so you can settle in. We run a tight ship here Chapman and I expect the very best from my employees, no less. let's hope you can keep up” I internally snicker at the tight ship remark. If it truly was a tight ship, I wouldn’t be here. If not for the fact I’m here undercover, I wouldn’t bat an eyelid at that sentence; but something about it unsettles me. Alarm bells ring in my head. Michael will be on my watch list.

The tour is pretty mundane, I’ve only been hired as the secretary for my department so there’s no need for me to see the entirety of the precinct however, one room, in particular, catches my eye. The captain’s office, I’ll have to make a mental note of its whereabouts. Michael has been rambling on about the pride and joy of the precinct, and how he’s “built a family he can trust”; I refrain from laughing, being late on my first day is one thing but being fired for rudeness on the first day? I think I’ll pass. Before I know it, We’ve already reached my department floor. It’s nothing too extravagant but it’s certainly the biggest. The criminal investigation department has the most employees in the entire precinct, from the constable to the detective team, the sergeant, translators, the medical examiners and then there’s me, the accountant and secretary. I know Nick is a detective and, in fact, I’m pretty sure he’s the lead detective. Speaking of him, I wonder if he’s in today?

Before I can allow myself to get carried away with my wondering thoughts, Michael finally finishes his boastful rant and shows me to my desk.

“Right chapman, this is your desk. You’ll be doing the majority of your administrative work here but it’s important to store any important and private documents in the file room and I expect them to be logged at the end of each shift. Understood?” Having to lock them away might be a slight problem, I need solid evidence for this case but having access to the file room could be beneficial.

“Yes sir”

“I’ll leave you to settle in and meet your colleagues, we’re happy to have you, Chapman”

“Well look who it is!” an oh-so-familiar voice averts my attention, making me turn away from my desk.

“Nick? Uh I mean Mr Folio” Addressing another boss of mine by his first name, today is just tip-top.

“What’s with the formalities Doll? Please everyone calls me Nick around here, Mr Folio sounds way too formal for my liking”. My breath hitches and I chew on my bottom lip as he calls me ‘doll’. Doll, I like the sound of that. He looks extra sexy today. Sure he looked handsome in a black tank top, but now? He’s wearing a white spear point collard dress shirt paired with navy blue suit trousers with white stripes, a brown, white dotted tie and brown leather oxfords. I can’t help but stare, the top two buttons of his shirt are unbuttoned and his sleeves are rolled up to his elbow, showing off his tanned, veiny arms. Heat flushes across my body down to my core, he’s hot. Real hot and I’m flustered.

“Cat got your tongue, doll?” He smirks. There’s that damned nickname again.

Everything about him entices me and I know these feelings are wrong, but I just can’t help myself. I’m supposed to be working against him, spying on him and digging for info but he’s just so sweet to look at.

“Sorry just a little tired, what did you say?”

“I said I was about to go on lunch and you owe me a lunch date, care to join?” A date? I’m sure it’s just a figure of speech.

“Sure! You’ll have to pick where we go, I’m afraid I’m not familiar with the city yet” Nick quickly grabs his suit jacket and grey fedora from his desk at the back of the room and gently puts his hand on the small of my back to lead me out of the precinct. A tingle surges up my spine at the light contact, causing a slight shiver.

Nick takes me to a cute little diner about a block away. There’s a yellow and red sign that reads “Fred’s cafe & diner” and a couple of cars parked out front including a new, mint green chevrolet fleetline. Dad told me about these new cars in one of his letters, he thinks they’re an eyesore but I quite like them.

We settle into a small booth in the corner, right by the window that overlooks the narrow street next to the diner. I’m conflicted, I’m sat across from one of the most, if not the most, handsome men I’ve ever met. His eyes are so dreamy; he’s practically eye-fucking me from across the table, looking down ever so slightly at my lips, as I make small talk about the fleetline out front, and my stomach turns to goo. I begin to wonder what what his lips taste like, how he’d look pushing me up against the wall; but it’s a fleeting thought. Stay on track Ada. A waitress takes our orders and there’s a tense silence among us.

“So doll, how are you enjoying the city so far?” I wish he’d stop calling that.

“It’s not too bad, I really miss the beach and my family but I love the livelihood here. It's a nice change” Home, I miss home. All I want is to hug Peggy and Dad but until the war is over, this is home in the meantime.

“Damn I don’t know why you’d pass up the seaside to live here of all places, but I’m glad you did” Leaning forward on his arms, he smirks.

“Really?”

“Sure, I get to look at your pretty face every day. Sounds like a nice perk to me” He winks. My cheeks turn a subtle shade of pink whilst I find myself attempting to stop a cheesy grin from spreading across my face.

“How about you? How does life here compare to Maryland?”

“Hmm It’s good, I love the job but I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for the war. I used to be a detective back in Maryland but I was relocated here to help with the war effort” Sometimes I forget about the war; moments like these make me feel normal and happy as if there’s not a single care in the world. But then I read the paper and I’m brought back to reality.

“Watch’ya thinking in that pretty little head of yours?” Concern starts to grow on his face.

“I was just thinking of home and the war, you know? I miss my family and life before it all started” My heart sinks thinking about it all.

“Oh doll, we don’t know each other too well yet and I know I can’t compare to your real home, but I promise I’ll do my best to make you a home away from home. Can’t stand to see a pretty face frown.” Is this the right guy? I mean, really? This is the so-called dangerous man who’s supposed to be stealing money from the precinct? I’ve never met such a gentle, caring soul; and not to point out the obvious but, fuck he’s handsome, I wouldn’t mind feeling his hands on my hips sometime. No, no I can’t think like that. I have a job to do, I mustn’t lose my focus. My thoughts are quickly averted as Nick says my name from across the table, signalling our lunch break is almost over. Come on Ada, snap out of it.

“Thank you, Nick. I’m sure I’ll feel right at home with you”

With you? Shit.

I am royally fucked.

AN: Sorry this took so long! I was in a really long writing slump but i'm hoping to get a chapter out every two weeks (no promises). I'm really looking forward to you guys seeing what happens between Nick and ADA. Ada has very quickly become my favourite character I've ever written. Please let me know your thoughts! Again, please let me know if you'd like to be added to my tag list for this series :)

reminder my inbox is always open if you’d rather send your thoughts about this series or any of the omens members anonymously (no fic requests).

Tag List: @iknownothingpeople , @dsireland86 , @vinyardmauro , @thatchickwiththecamera , @blackveilomens

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believesthings · 1 year

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Give & Gain // Ted Lasso x Reader

Summary: You are overwhelmed with work and feeling unsure about your direction in life. Your boyfriend, Ted, does what he does best and offers comfort and cuddles.

“Ted! Do you need help?”

“Hey there sugar - no n-no I’m fine. I got it. I got it all.” He words are reassuring but the slightly labored breathing underneath makes you not so sure. Here is your sweet man, with bags of groceries up and down his arms. He went shopping while you were home, burying yourself in an incredibly frustrating work project.

You got up to clear a spot on the table so that at the very least, he’ll have an easy landing spot for all of the food he bought.

“Are we stocking up for the apocalypse?” You question while beginning to put any perishable items away.

He chuckles lowly at you. “No. No. I just, well, Henry will probably be coming to visit soon and Roy had mentioned that Phoebe wanted to have a play date with him and I just figured I would cover all the bases. Of course, when I was actually shopping it really didn’t seem like all that much but once I got back and tried to get everything in one trip, I realized how much stuff it really was. I almost pulled my arm out of the socket trying to balance that milk jug.”

He begins to help you put the last of everything away, it’s been a long day - hell a long week, for the both of you and he’s looking forward to finally resting with you at the end of it all.

“Is there anything else out there?” You question.

“Nope. Managed to get it all. Even closed the trunk - sorry the boot too.”

You give him a pointed stare. “You know, we are home alone, Teddy. You don’t need to correct yourself here. It’s not like a constable is going to come banging down the door and putting you in cuffs just because you said the word trunk.”

“Heck, I know darlin’. I just like to make the effort, you know? When in rome, right?”

With everything successfully put away, he grabs your hand and pulls you close, bringing you in to kiss you. Pulling away, he says, “I’ve been wanting to do that ever since I walked though the door.”

He walks you over to the couch and the two of you settle in. He considers himself to be pretty well versed when it comes to you and he can definitely sense the tension resting in your shoulders.

“Hey, you ok?” He asks glancing down at you.

“Yeah. Why do you ask?” You say without glancing back.

“You just seem like you’re feeling off.” He raises his hand to rub your shoulders, feeling the tightness beneath his fingertips.

“Yeah. I’m good. I’m great.” You answer, a little too quickly for his liking. You definitely aren’t good, he decides.

“Look, whatever it is, we don’t have to get into it right now. But I know something’s up, honey.”

You stay silent for fear that the dam would break and tears would come welling up to the surface if you tried to speak.

Ted leans into your ear and whispers, “I’m here, okay?”

And that, as it turns out, is all it takes. You can feel your lip quivering and the hot tears pricking the corners of your eyes. You hang your head down and feel yourself start to crumble, while Ted pulls you closer.

“Hey, Darling. What’s going on?”

You snuggle closer into his side, finally looking up at him. “It’s just work, I guess. I have so many tasks to do and I feel like I can never get ahead of any of it. It doesn’t help that I don’t always seem to have the best support system in my job either. I’m actually kinda jealous of you, Teddy.”

He looks at you in surprise. “What are you on about?”

“You’ve got such a good dynamic going on with the team. You’re so great at what you do. All that positive reinforcement? I kinda wish I had that sometimes from my work too. It’s hard to stay positive when you don’t actually have someone giving you that positive feedback and sometimes I just kind of wonder what the point of it all even is. Is this really what I want to be doing? Am I even good at it?” I don’t even know if I know what my future is going to look like anymore.” You pause for a beat, “is that ridiculous?”

He shakes his head at you. “Not at all. I think that’s normal. It’s normal not to know what you what out of your future. Sometimes you think you want something but it doesn’t mean it’s gonna feel right once you’re in it and that’s okay. Now all of this talk about you not being good enough, I’m gonna stop that right now. You might be the smartest person I know. I hate that you’re doubting yourself, honey.”

He wraps his arm around your shoulder and drops a kiss to your forehead. “None of this means that you wasted your time and it doesn’t mean that you failed. It just means that you’re learning more about yourself and now you can take that and use to make whatever kind of space you need for yourself. Sometimes the path you take doesn’t always feel right once you’re actually on it. Doesn’t mean you’ve let anyone down. Not yourself. And especially not me.”

He strokes your cheek before continuing. “It’s okay to be unsure, you know. Especially when it comes down to something like your future. But you don’t need to decide right now. Now look, sweetheart. I can’t tell you what the right choice is but what I can tell you is that I’m here. You’ve got me. In whatever way you need. If you need someone to listen, you’ve got my ear. If you want problem solving, my brain is all yours. If you want a distraction and break from being all up in your head, Heck Darlin’ that’s my specialty and I’ll be happy to comfort ya all night.”

You let out a laugh, the tears finally seeming to subside.

“The only thing I want - the only thing anyone who’s worth a damn in your life wants is for you to be happy. But you don’t need to know what the path looks like right now. But one thing I do know for sure is when you figure it out, I’ll be here. Think of me as your own personal cheerleader. Or a shoulder to lean on if you need it. And even if you choose a different path and you decide that’s not right for you either, it doesn’t matter. I’ll cheer you on down every path in this world. Even the ones with a lot of sharp turns. You know you got me in your corner, right?”

You nod at him. “Yeah I do, Teddy.”

He nudges you to sit up as he repositions himself behind you, digging his fingers into your neck and rubbing out the knots underneath. “You know you are one of the kindest people I know. Of course, you can still have a little bite too when you need to. But you care. Deeply. It’s one of the reasons I think I fell in love with ya in the first place. Will you please save some of that kindness for yourself?”

You whip your head around at him and he holds his hand up in mock surrender. “Now I know, darlin’ I’m not great at doing that myself either. Maybe that’s something we can work on together.”

“Ok.”

He drops his head down and places light kisses on your neck and shoulders. “I know we’re all our own harshest critics but the one voice you can never get away from is your own and I know sometimes it’s hard to make that voice be quiet but maybe you can add a new voice.”

Scrunching your eyebrows together, you ask, “what do you mean?”

“Maybe what you need is a little mini Ted voice added to all that chaos. And when you’re feeling down and unsure, let that voice say the words that I’m saying to you now. The kind of stuff you would say to me if I was feeling down.”

The thought of carrying around a little mini Ted in your pocket was so nice to you. If only it were actually possible.

“Come here.” He stands up from the couch and grabs your hand. You follow his lead as he leads you into the bedroom. He settles you into bed, cuddling you close into his chest and whispers against your ear. “It’s okay. You’re okay. You don’t need to figure anything out right now but you will figure it out. I know you will.”

You stay like that for a minute, laying on his chest feeling the rise and fall of his body as he breathes in and out. He whispers again, “have I told you I love you today?”

You chuckle. “You tell me everyday Ted.”

“Well, I love you. So much. So what do you need?”

“Cuddles, I think.”

“Well, that’s my favorite activity. course we can do that.”

You can feel him tracing patterns into your skin while you both lie there in each others warmth.

You sit up rather abruptly, looking down at your boyfriend.

“What is it?”

“Ted, honey I’m sorry. I never even asked you how your day was. We’ve spent all this time wrapped up in my problems.”

He waves you off. “Oh, don’t worry about that. I like comforting you. Doing this for you helps me just as much.”

“Really?” You ask him unconvinced.

“Yeah. Comfort given is comfort gained, you know. The Doc taught me that.”

“I always knew she was smart.” You lean down and give him another kiss, whispering against his lips. “Thank you.”

“Course. No need to thank me. That’s what love is, right?”

#ted lasso #fluff #ted lasso reader insert #Ted lasso x reader #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fic #Ted lasso fluff #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso imagine #Ted lasso insert #reader insert

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