#reader insert x larissa weems

[agathaandbrienneslesbian]

In Your Words

Larissa Weems x Fem!Journalist!Reader

Hiya! I've finally finished this bad boy <3 I'm uploading this lengthy fic cause I'll be having a shit ton of Uni Exams the next few weeks and won't be able to write.

Big thanks to @weemssapphic and some other friends for proofreading this fic <3

Disclaimer: English is not my first language!

Warning: SMUT 18+, minors DNI

Authors Note: Y/N is a newsreporter and wants to write a story about Nevermore and outcasts. What happens if a normie Journalist and an outcast Headmistress work together? (I suck at descriptions, have fun xD)

Words: 9'200+

Ao3 Link

Taglist

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You sat in your little office at the news station of Jericho, finger hovering over the mouse of your computer. You were hesitating. The cursor sat neatly atop the ‘send’ button, ready to send your email to its recipient. But you hesitated. Why? You didn’t know. 

It’s true that it was frowned upon to interact with the outcasts, but you just couldn’t believe that they were as terrible as everyone said they were. You have seen them plenty of times strolling through the little city, shopping and stopping by the Weathervane for a drink. None of them ever seemed malicious or evil to you. With a deep inhale, you pressed send and quickly shut your computer off. There's no going back now. 

—

The next day at the office, you were surprised to find that the Headmistress of Nevermore Academy, Larissa Weems, has replied. With a nervous breath, you opened the email:

Dear Miss Y/l/n,

I am pleasantly surprised about learning of your interest in outcasts, my students and the school in general. There are, however, a few things I would like to clarify first.

Now, if I understood correctly, you wish to catch a glimpse into the life of an outcast to then create a report about our differences and similarities with non-outcasts? 

Because of the nature of this request, I have to let you know that I will not tolerate any sort of mockery or bad-mouthing of my students or my school. 

You will have to follow our rules, outcast or not. 

I won’t allow you to follow one of my students around, as this would pose a serious safety hazard for my students and yourself. 

However, you are very welcome to settle yourself into my office and follow me around for however many days you deem necessary. 

If this is alright with you, I would be willing to meet you coming Monday at the Weathervane and take you to the Academy. 

Sincerely,

Larissa Weems

You released the breath you were holding and smiled to yourself. You replied to Miss Weems, agreeing to her terms and wishing her a wonderful weekend. 

The following two hours consisted of preparing everything you needed for your report: a few notepads and notebooks, your laptop, a tablet, your camera and some pens. You couldn't help but feel nervous at the prospect of having the opportunity to report about the outcasts. This was not a subject anyone had ever really done research on, and you were adamant to figure out why everyone seemed so fearful of a bunch of teenagers in a school in the woods. 

Over the weekend, you exchanged a few more emails with the Principal, clearing up any last logistical problems you’ve had. 

You asked if you were allowed to stay for a week, to which she replied that it would be no problem if you agreed to stay in one of the empty studios that were meant for teachers at Nevermore. 

Of course, you agreed.

Monday rolled around, and you were standing in front of the Weathervane, waiting for the Principal of Nevermore to pick you up. You have heard descriptions of her, and you knew she frequented the little Café a lot, yet you have never seen her in person before. Absentmindedly, you sipped on your hot chocolate, typing something on your phone, when suddenly:

“Miss Y/l/n I presume?” A soft voice with a wonderful British accent sounded from beside you. You turned your head to be met with a beige coat. Having to look up you finally made eye contact with the woman whose beautiful voice ripped you out of your thoughts.

You smiled up at her, nervousness flooding your chest as you took in the beauty of the woman in front of you.

“Principal Weems. It’s a pleasure to meet you!” you said quietly, nerves completely taking over your logical mind and body. You reached your hand out to shake hers. She took her beige glove off, and took your hand in hers. Her hand was soft, warm and wrapped perfectly around yours. Perfectly manicured red nails decorated her pale skin. 

“Likewise!” She smiled down at you and removed her hand, putting her glove on again, and you immediately missed the feeling of her hand on yours. 

“Are you ready for us to leave, Miss Y/l/n?”

“Oh… yes, of course!” You grabbed your bag with your equipment and personal items and followed her to her car. You set your luggage in the boot and sat in the passenger seat. Larissa sat in the driver's seat and started driving towards the Academy. After some silence, you spoke up again.

“Thank you so much for letting me stay at the Academy for a week.” Larissa smiled to herself and quickly glanced over at you before eyeing the road again.

“I should thank you. My students usually don’t get this sort of… exposure to the outside world. We are used to people avoiding us because of… fear or discrimination… whatever you want to call it.” Her tone shifted to a quieter and more serious one, her hands gripping the steering wheel just a little tighter. You sensed a shift in energy and gave her a reassuring smile. 

“I believe everyone deserves a chance to be understood and seen.” You replied, and that seemed to relax the headmistress. She shot you a thankful smile, then focused back on the road, the rest of the ride being spent in comfortable silence.

—

Once at Nevermore, Larissa showed you around the grounds, having one of the teachers carry your possessions to the on-campus studio flat, which will be your new home for the following week. 

Roaming the halls, it didn’t seem much different than a school for regular humans (besides it being incredibly fancy, of course) and you found that the students seemed like sweet kids. Truly, you couldn’t understand how there was so much hatred and fear surrounding these kids. 

Larissa led you to her office, offering you a separate desk to work on. You set your laptop bag on the desk and turned to look at the headmistress, who was standing next to her desk.

“Now, Miss Y/l/n, you are free to follow me around the Academy whenever you want, but I trust you understand why I wouldn’t want you roaming the halls on your own.” She looked at you with a raised eyebrow.

“Of course, Miss Weems!” you reassured her quickly. “I understand how important it is for you to protect these kids… but I can assure you there are no ill intentions by me being here! After what I’ve seen thus far, I cannot believe why anyone would be fearful of outcasts. This is why I’m here. I don’t believe that these kids are as dangerous as everyone in Jericho, let alone the rest of the world, believes them to be.” You looked at her, and there was a slight shift of emotion on her face. Hope? Distrust? Surprise? You didn't know. After a few seconds of silence, the headmistress spoke up again.

“Very well,” she said, grinning at you with her million-dollar-winning smile. “If you ever feel like you would like to see more of the school or learn about its history, don’t be afraid to ask.” Her smile softened slightly. She seemed very fond of her students and her Academy. It truly warmed your heart, and you couldn't help but blush slightly. With a slight nod, you thanked her and sat down, getting your things ready to start your research. 

Every now and then throughout the morning, you caught yourself glancing over at the tall woman. She sat in perfect posture, working on her laptop and typing away on some emails or documents. You didn’t realise how long you had been staring at her. The way her eyes flicked over the screen and the way she swiftly moved her fingers over the keyboard had you in a trance-like state. Her perfectly painted red lip curled up on the side, and she raised one of her eyebrows.

“Has no one taught you that staring is rude?” Her eyes flicked over to yours, and you quickly averted your eyes back on your own screen, mumbling a quiet ‘sorry’ her way. Your face felt hot, and you knew you were blushing, hard. Larissa chuckled and shook her head a bit in amusement. She stopped her typing and leaned back against the seat, turning to look at you, studying you as if she were… considering you. Shyly, you moved your gaze back to her. 

“Would you like to have a look at one of the classes? Our subjects can vary drastically from the ones in your schools.” she smiled at you and tilted her head slightly. 

“I-I would appreciate that, yes.” You answered, nodding, and quickly moved to grab your notepad and pen. When you looked back up, Larissa was already standing and walking towards the door of her office, only stopping to wait for you to catch up. 

This morning, the headmistress took you to several classes, telling you about all the different subjects they have. You eagerly took notes, asking questions and listening intently to subjects you’d never heard of. Magic, transformation, siren song, etc. You were fascinated, and that didn’t get lost on Larissa. The longer she watched you, the more fond she grew of you. Your interest and amazement made her heart swell with pride for her school and her students. Even though she was rather careful of what to show you, she felt that this might be the biggest step ever made for outcasts to be accepted into everyday normie lives. 

—

The day went by way faster than you would have wished for it. You have learned so much and were eager to learn even more. Larissa had taken her time explaining their school system to you and while you saw drastic differences, it still didn’t feel too out of the norm. There was one particular student that caught your eye. A rebel, you thought, someone who likes to prank and go against the rules. Those exist in every school, of course, but this girl seemed different. She did it with such nonchalance and elegance that it was almost invisible to the untrained eye. 

After asking the headmistress, she told you about the student. Not much, just enough to answer your questions. Larissa seemed tense so you decided to change the subject, asking her about her own time at the school, and from then on the two of you got completely lost in conversation. Hours passed, and you shared your school experiences and collectively decided that they weren't all too different. With a heavy sigh, you leaned against the couch and watched Larissa refill yours and her wine glass. 

“I have to be honest, even after just one day I have seen enough to tell you that this,” you waved your hand around, “is definitely nothing to be afraid or weary of. I mean… I always knew that the other… “normies”... are being way too sensitive when it comes to this place and its students but seeing it for myself… I simply can’t understand why there's so much hate and fear towards these poor students.” You sighed and took a sip of wine. “I mean… they're just kids aren't they?” You glanced up at the headmistress to see her smiling at you softly, humming in agreement. 

“I have to be honest, Miss Y/l/n-”

“Y/n! You can call me Y/n if you want to,” you interrupted her with a smile, looking back into your glass as you felt your face blush.

“Y/n… I am surprised and… relieved.” She smiled sweetly at you then looked into the fireplace, a sad expression crossing her face. “I wish more people could see the kids for who they are instead of for what they are.” A sigh left her lips and she took a sip of wine. “It’s not easy being… different… an outcast. You can try all you want, there will always be a hint of fear and doubt in non-outcasts.” She turned to look at you, her icy blues piercing yours. “Are you afraid, Y/n?” she asked, quietly, almost inaudible, but you caught the slight shiver in her voice. It broke your heart to see her like this. You didn’t really know that woman except for what she was willing to tell you, but you knew, without a doubt, that she was the most precious being on the entire planet, and you would move planets just to see her at peace. Without really thinking about it, you set your glass down and moved to hold one of her hands.

“Miss Weems… Larissa… if I may?” you started, gently, and she nodded at you, “I do not claim to know what you and your students have to go through, day by day. Being villainized, misunderstood and what not. But what I do know is that I want to help you make a difference. The kids are nothing but kids… Powers and mutations aside… No matter how different you may seem from me, you are still a person. You don’t deserve to be treated like they treat you… all of you.” You smiled at her with a caring expression on your face and gently squeezed her hand. Larissa looked at you, eyes trained on your face, searching for lies, but she couldn't find any. She inhaled shakily and took a big sip of her wine then squeezed your hands back.

“Thank you,” was all she replied. You didn’t need more. You knew she meant it. You felt it. With a last gentle squeeze, you let go of her hand, grabbing your glass again.

“To my… to our project!” you smirked and raised your glass to her. She chuckled and shook her head slightly, looking back at you endearingly and raised her glass as well. 

“To our project.”

—

As the week went on, Larissa and you started to develop a little routine. You would meet her in the morning to go to the Weathervane and get some breakfast to-go, spend the morning in her office or with a teacher of her choice (mostly Marilyn Thornhill), have lunch with her and the teachers, writing and researching in Larissas office, a dinner with staff and at the end of the day, a glass (or sometimes a bottle) of her favourite wine on the couch in front of the fireplace. Being around Larissa was incredibly easy. You loved talking to her, listening to her, discussing topics other than schools and outcasts. You felt safe, comfortable… you felt at home. And you weren’t the only one who felt this way. Larissa would catch herself, more than she’d like to admit, looking at you, watching you with adoration as you wrote and researched. She liked you. It wasn't a secret. She loved being around you and was looking forward to the evenings at the fireplace. A refreshing difference she desperately needed. Larissa had grown very fond of you, and she hoped you felt the same. 

When Friday evening rolled around you were already sitting on the couch in Larissa’s office, waiting for her to come back with the wine as it suddenly hit you. It was already Friday… you’ll be leaving again on Monday. You’ll have to go back to your office and finish the report. Would you be able to see her again? Could you stay in contact? Larissa entered, placing the bottle and glasses on the table then saw the light crease between your brows as you stared into the flames of the fireplace, obviously deep in thought. 

“Y/n?” she asked softly, and laid her hand on your shoulder, and you snapped your head towards her, not having heard her appear next to you. “Are you alright dear?” 

“Yeah!..yeah.” You smiled up at her, watching her sit down next to you and opening the wine bottle. “I’ve just realised that it’s already Friday… The week really went by in a flash, huh?” You took the wineglass she held out to you and looked at it, swishing the red liquid around absent-mindedly. Larissa’s heart constricted seeing you like this. 

“It did! But… as upsetting as it is, I am glad to see that you enjoyed your week here!” She took a sip of her wine and watched you closely. “That being said, seeing how my students seemed to like you being around,” and I, she thought, “you are more than welcome to return whenever you feel like it.” She watched you closely, seeing your eyes light up made her feel warm and content. 

“I would love that Larissa. Thank you! And you are always welcome at the news station. I’ll make sure the others behave, don't worry.” you giggled and winked at her which pulled a small laugh from her lips and she shook her head amusedly. “I mean it!” You smiled as you snuggled into the couch and took a sip of wine, humming as the liquid hit your tongue, “If any of your students ever wants to know more about journalism or is interested in it, let me know. Matter of fact…” you sat up and straightened your back, holding your hand out to the blonde, “give me your phone I’ll give you my number so you can just let me know in case there is something.” 

Larissa hesitated. She looked at your hand for a second, then smiled shyly and grabbed her phone, unlocking it and handing it to you to type in your number. She watched fondly as you typed your number in her phone. A slight tingle spread from her chest over her body as she took her phone back after you’ve saved your number. 

“Thank you!” she said quietly, “I- really do appreciate it… everything you do. For us. Me and the students.” A soft pink colour kissed her cheeks and she gave you a truly heartfelt smile. You smiled back at her, butterflies spreading through your whole body. Her smile was the most beautiful thing you have ever seen. You knew right there, she had you wrapped around her finger. You have fallen. 

—

You were able to finish your report on the last day of your stay in Nevermore, handing it in to be reviewed by your boss so it could be printed and released asap. With a heavy sigh, you leaned back into the chair, stretching your arms and back. Larissa smiled over at you and set her paperwork aside.

“I take it you’ve just handed in your story to be reviewed?” she asked with a gentle smile. Her eyes held a hint of sadness at the realisation that her office would be empty once again. You smiled over at her and nodded gently.

“Yes! Just handed it in! If everything goes well, you’ll be able to read it on Tuesday! And Larissa… thank you again… for everything!” 

The blonde stood up, walking over to your side, and placed her hand on your shoulder, squeezing it gently. 

“I should thank you. This… means way more to us than you could ever imagine!” Her smile was warm, eyes soft. You felt a shudder rush down your spine as you realised that you haven’t seen her this soft with anyone but you. All of this vulnerable affection was only directed towards you, only to be seen by your eyes. 

You wanted to tell her… tell her that you like her. Tell her that she is the most beautiful woman you’ve ever had the pleasure to lay your eyes on. Just as you were about to open your mouth, she pulled away. 

“If you want to, I can drive you back. I could drop you off at the Weathervane or.. At your place, if you prefer?” Larissa spoke, closing her laptop and putting her paperwork into a drawer. The headmistress didn’t want you to go, but she knew that if she would let you stay longer, she wouldn't be able to hold herself back. Certainly you wouldn’t feel the same… right?

“That.. that would be nice! Thank you!” you replied, feeling defeated. Maybe it was better to keep your feelings to yourself. Who knows, maybe she wasn’t interested in women.. Or simply normies. You took a deep breath, collecting your things and going to your room to pack the last few things. When you returned to the headmistress’ office, she was already waiting for you. 

The drive back to Jericho was rather quiet. Neither of you knew what to say to the other. You wanted to tell her everything, pour your heart out to her and so did she, but you stayed quiet. Once you arrived at your Flat Complex, Larissa turned to you. 

“It was really nice having you at Nevermore. Again, thank you for doing this for us. And… If you should ever want to come and visit, you are more than welcome to do so! I am sure the Students would love to see you again sometime.” and herself… but she didn't say that.  You gave her a genuine smile, nodding slightly. 

“I enjoyed my week there! You truly have wonderful students. And, I mean, you have my number so… if you or any of the kids should ever need something, just feel free to contact me!” You hoped she would contact you, but only time could tell. 

—

It has been a month since you’ve last heard from Larissa. Your article got approved, and she complimented you on it, thanking you again profusely. That was the last, and only, time you’ve heard of her after staying at Nevermore. Sure, she was a busy woman, but you couldn’t help but feel upset. And you wouldn’t text her first, no. The anxiety that arose in you every time you tried to do so was enough to completely freeze you. So when you walked into the Weathervane on a Thursday morning to grab a coffee, you were more than delighted to see her there, quickly walking up to her.

“Good morning, Principal Weems” you said softly, watching her turn around and seeing her eyes light up as she saw you. 

“Good morning Y/N!” she replied with a smile. That darn beautiful smile of hers. “Are you also here to grab some breakfast before work?” she asked, turning fully to you, all herattention focused on you, your face, those eyes she came to admire over the time you’ve spent at her school. 

“I am but.. Uhm… if you’re not in a hurry, would you like to have breakfast with me?” you did it, you asked her. The second the question left your lips, you felt your cheeks heat up. Larissa looked at you with adoration and nodded. 

“I would love to, actually!” She smiled and tilted her head slightly. She noticed your blush and couldn’t help but feel giddy about it. Was she the reason you blushed?

“Wonderful! What do you want? It’s my treat!” You smile, feeling a bit more confident now, seeing her soft and happy gaze directed only at you. 

“Oh, you really don’t have to-”

“But I want to!” 

Larissa sighed, shaking her head slightly with a grin, and chuckled at how adamant you were.

“Fine. Next time, it’s my treat!” She gave you her order and went to sit at a booth, waiting for you to join her. You couldn’t believe your ears. Next time? There will be a next time? The smile that spread on your lips could only be described as the smile of a happy fool. Truly, you were a fool. A fool for her. 

After you’ve ordered and paid for your coffees and pastries, you made your way over to her, slipping into the booth. 

“So… how have you been? How have the kids been?” you asked, trying to make small talk. You felt so awkward, but that feeling quickly washed away as you saw Larissa’s soft smile.

“Very well! Your report had quite the impact on how people from Jericho treat my students. I just wanted to thank you again. The effect this has had on our lives is way greater than I could have hoped for. The article… your words… truly left an impact.” She reached her hand out, grabbing yours and squeezing it lightly.

“Thank you!”

Your smile grew tenfold, and you squeezed her hand back. 

“I am so happy to hear that this has worked out so well for you and your students.” You shyly pulled your hand back and thanked the waiter when he placed your drinks and pastries in front of you.

“How have you been y/n?” Larissa asked. She was looking at you… into you… into your soul with those beautiful ice-y blue eyes. You felt your cheeks heat up and grabbed your cup as well, trying to ground yourself. 

“I’ve been well! The Article has caught a lot of attention, so I’ve been rather busy lately…” You smiled at her and took a sip as she watched. 

“Though I do have to say, I miss being around the kids…” and around you, you thought to yourself. The blonde eyed you over her coffee mug and smiled sweetly. 

“In that case, would you like to come to the Rave’N this weekend?” She did it… she asked you. Her heart was beating like crazy but seeing the light blush covering your face she couldn't help but feel proud of herself. 

“The Rave’N? Really?” You asked, not believing your ears. Larissa nodded and tilted her head. 

“Yes really! Our theme this year is ‘Climate crisis meets extinction effect’ and the dress code is white.” She took a bite of her pastry and smiled at you. You thought for a second. You didn’t have any white outfits, so you’d definitely have to buy one, but you’d be damned if you wouldn’t agree to her invitation.

“In that case, I’d love to!” The smile you gave her made Larissa’s heart melt. How were you so precious? She nodded slightly. 

“I’ll have Marilyn pick you up here at around 5:30pm on Saturday. The students will be excited to see you again!” She finished her coffee and snack and stood up.

“I’d love to stay longer, but I have to get back to Nevermore… I’ll see you this Saturday, dear.” and with that, she left your flustered self in the Weathervane.

—

Shopping for an appropriate but also impressive garment was not easy. You currently had 2 dresses in front of you and couldn’t decide which one to pick. One was made of silk and rather simple but had an extravagant high slit up your right thigh and a very low back, whereas the other covered more of your back and arms but was a bit shorter with a princess gown puff skirt. You sighed and decided to put them on again, took a picture of you wearing them and sent them to Marilyn. You and her had gotten rather close during the week you spent at Nevermore, and you’d kept contact even afterwards. She was such a sweetheart, but she was also a pain in the ass as she has been nagging you about your outfit all afternoon already. 

It didn’t take long for you to be flooded with messages of Marilyn going crazy over the silk dress. 

Marilyn:

“Oh, you SO have to get the silky one! Larissa won’t be able to keep her eyes off of you”

Y/N:

“What do you mean? Why would you say that?”

Marilyn: 

“Oh come ooooon… It is SOOOOOOO obvious that you have the hots for her… just pick the silk one.”

You were sure Marilyn would laugh at you if she could see you right now. Your face was bright red because you’d been found out. Was it really that obvious? Did Larissa know? Was that why she invited you? Could she... no. No, that probably wasn’t the case... Just wishful thinking. With a sigh you looked back on your phone. 

Y/N:

“Fine. I’ll get the silk one. But just because you picked it 😛”

You got dressed again and went to buy the garment. 

Once back at home, you took your time to look for hair and makeup inspiration to complete your look and be ready for Saturday. Marilyn and you had been texting back and forth all day, and she’d helped you pick the perfect hairstyle and makeup for the Rave’N.

You were nervous… of course you were, but there was this little glimmer of hope starting to take hold within you. Maybe Larissa really did like you.

—

You were waiting in front of the Weathervane for Marilyn to come and pick you up. 

Were you nervous? Absolutely! 

Were you excited? Definitely! 

But you couldn’t help and worry… worry about… you were actually not sure. Your nerves were getting the better of you and there was nothing that could be done against it. Not that you haven’t tried… you definitely did! You went through every trick in the book.

Breathing exercise? No effect.

Meditation? Nothing.

A tea? That just made you worried that you would spill it on your dress, so that wasn’t helping at all. 

So you just stood there… waiting.

“Hey! You good?” you suddenly heard someone call out to you and released a sigh. 

“Marilyn! Hey!” You smiled at your friend and got into the car, leaning over to give her a hug. 

“Not really… my nerves are taking over right now.” You groaned. 

“You’re just making yourself crazy over nothing! Relax! You’ll be fine!” she smirked and turned her gaze back onto the road, starting towards Nevermore. 

“You look amazing by the way!”

You chuckled and looked out of the window. You did look nice… it also took you forever to get ready. You had braided some hair along the sides of your head and pulled everything up into a fluffy space bun, which you decorated with some crystal pins. Your makeup was soft, in nude colours, with a soft peach lip and some sparkly eyeshadow on your eyelids. The dress fit perfectly and hugged every curve of your body, and you had found the perfect off-white heels in your closet. 

“Thank you! Wouldn’t have managed to pull this off without you!” You smile and look over at the redhead. Marilyn was grinning to herself.

“If you two hook up, I deserve to be invited to dinner by you!” Your shocked gasp caused her to laugh out loud.

“Oh come on! I know you want her… and to be quite honest…” She raised an eyebrow and glanced over at you with a mischievous smirk. “I think the feelings are mutual.”

The blush that spread on your face was all Marilyn needed to know she was right.

“You’ll see! She’ll be absolutely smitten with you looking like this.”

“We’ll see…” you reply, watching the scenery outside. 

Marilyn parked the car and ran around to open the door for you with a dramatic bow. 

“M’lady.” she chuckled, and you rolled your eyes amusedly as you got out of the car. 

“You’re an idiot!” 

The teacher smirked and moved to hold her arm out for you to hold. She led you into the building and guided you towards the great hall. 

You weren’t expecting to be swarmed by students the second you entered the ballroom. 

“Hi Y/N! What are you doing here?”

“You look gorgeous! Who invited you?”

“It’s so nice you’re back! Come! Let's go dance!”

“Do you want something to drink? I’ll get you some punch!”

You were being surrounded and swarmed by the students, and it warmed your heart to see how excited they were by your presence. Marilyn slipped away from you without you noticing, the second she realised someone was walking up to the newly formed commotion around your presence. You struggled answering all of their questions when suddenly you felt a hand on your shoulder and the students grew quiet. 

“Now, now… dear y/n has just arrived, don’t crowd her like that. You’ll have enough time to have a chat with her tonight.” The smooth British voice echoed from behind you and a pleasant shudder ran down your spine. The students nodded and went back to their friends on the dance floor. You turned around to look up at the principal. 

Larissa couldn’t help but let her eyes roam over your figure. The dress you chose was absolutely exquisite, your makeup complimenting the simplicity of the outfit and your hair that just looked too soft. Vulgar thoughts flooding her mind as she finally caught your eyes. You were looking up at her with big doe eyes, so innocent and sweet. 

“Come in! Want something to drink?” she asked as she gently took your arm and led you into the ballroom. You couldn’t believe your eyes. Larissa looked… She was a goddess. Her hair was up like always but decorated with some intricate curls, her usual red lipstick a wonderful contrast to the silver dress she was wearing. Looking up at her, you saw her eyes scanning you, your heart skipping a beat. Her pupils dilated as she finally landed on your eyes, and you had to suppress a whimper. This woman will be the death of you. It took you a few seconds to register her question and notice her arm intertwined with yours. 

“I- yes… please!” you answered quietly, not being able to suppress the grin gracing your lips. 

Larissa handed you a glass of punch and took one herself. You stood at the edge of the dance floor with her, watching the kids having fun. 

You really wanted to dance with her, but didn’t know how to ask. Should you ask? What if she said no? What if she thought you were weird, and she only wanted to invite you for the kids’ sake? But… What if she said yes? What then? You didn’t know how to dance. Sure, you have visited your fair share of parties, but you didn’t think you were a good dancer. And what if you started dancing, and you didn’t do it right, and she would start laughing and-

“What's going on in that head of yours, darling?” Larissa’s soft voice pulled you out of your thoughts. You looked up at her just to catch her already looking at you. Her eyes were soft, a hint of concern shimmering in them. She looked so… soft. You just wanted to pull her into an embrace, a kiss, soft and full of affection. Taking a breath in, you set your glass on a table then held your hand out to her.

“Would you like to dance, Larissa?” you asked, heart hammering in your chest as you saw her eyes widen ever so slightly in surprise. A sweet pink hue coloured her cheeks as she blinked at you a few times, registering what you just asked her. Larissa quickly placed her glass on the table next to yours and moved to put her hand into yours, looking up at you with a shy smile, nodding. 

“I would love to!” she said quietly, almost above a whisper. The bright smile that appeared on her face was enough to get her heart racing and head spinning. Your eyes were practically sparkling with glee, and it made her feel so fuzzy and warm inside. To have such happiness and excitement directed towards her was a privilege she’s never experienced before. You giddily pulled her onto the dance floor, not believing your luck. 

Marilyn was watching from the corner, watching as you pulled Larissa onto the dance floor. She smirked at the two of you, but something felt weird… the music!

A mischievous smirk graced her features as she waddled off to the DJ and asked him to play a slow and romantic song. The second the music changed, you and Larissa shot a look over at the DJ, seeing Marilyn standing there, innocently waving at the two of you. Oh, you were so going to get revenge on her for that. Your anxiety started kicking in again, but before you could start overthinking it you felt warm hands on your waist. Larissa was pulling you closer, and she just hoped you wouldn’t pull away. 

“Is this okay?” Her piercing blue orbs held steady eye contact with you, and you felt your face heat up. With a nod, you move to place your arms on her shoulders, hands close to her neck. She smiled and started swaying with you to the rhythm of the song. Seeing you so shy and flustered by her gave her the necessary courage to take a step closer. She leaned her head down to your ear, causing a shiver to run down your spine. 

“You look absolutely delectable tonight, my dear. Have you picked this outfit just for me?” Her hot breath on your skin caused you to bite your lip. You nodded.

“I was hoping you’d like it.” You replied quietly. Larissa tightened her grip on you, squeezing your waist gently, which caused a gasp to leave your lips. 

“Dressing up nicely just for me?” She husked, feeling herself getting more confident. Emboldened by the way your body… you reacted to her. 

“You’re such a good girl!” You could hear the smirk in her voice. Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself.

“It’s a shame this dress will be laying somewhere scattered in my quarters after this ball is over.” 

You tightened your grip on her shoulders, pulling her closer. Your heart felt like it was beating out of your chest. The tension was high, atmosphere thick with desire. You felt your knees tremble, ready to take whatever she was willing to give you. You pulled your head back a bit, just enough to look into her eyes, and what you saw almost made you whimper with anticipation. Her usually so pale blue eyes were dark, lustrous, her breathing heavier than usual and her lips were slightly parted. 

Before either of you could say or do anything, you felt something drip on your cheek. Confusedly, you blinked a few times, and Larissa eyed your cheek in concern.

The drips quickly multiplied, and soon you were showered in, what you believed to be, blood. Your eyes widened as you looked around, unable to move. Everything was getting soaked with this red liquid. What was happening?

Larissa was the first to move. She pulled away from you but grabbed your hand and quickly led you outside, the other staff helping the kids get out of the ballroom as well. Some fled into the courtyard and some into the school halls. There was a big commotion amongst the students, and you and Larissa immediately sprang into action, trying to calm the scared kids. Marilyn came running with a pile of blankets and towels to wrap around the sopping pupils. 

Whatever had happened, it was clearly meant as an attack of sorts. You were fuming.  Even after all the positive feedback you got for your report, there were still some bad apples in the normie bunch. If you ever caught who did that, they would surely regret pulling a stunt like that.

—

After the, you now knew it to be, red dyed water attack, you helped Larissa, Marilyn and the other employees to bring the kids inside and to their dorm rooms. After the last student was brought to their room, you stood in the foyer, watching Larissa talk to the Sheriff. You could tell she was agitated… mad. But yet she kept her composure, talked calmly and was respectful. A light bump against your shoulder alerted you to the presence of your friend.

“Hey… thanks for your help! You really didn’t have to, you know?” Marilyn smiled defeatedly at you, and you returned the smile. 

“It’s okay! I really didn’t mind… Just wished that this wouldn’t have happened… it’s not like they already have it hard enough and now that… I was really hoping that my report had a bigger impact but-”

“Don’t say that!” Marilyn interrupted, “Your article was eye-opening for so many people in town! It definitely helped! Big time! There’s just always gonna be a few assholes trying to ruin everything again.” She was clearly frustrated as well. You looked at her and chuckled, then shook your head. 

“I guess you’re right..” You sighed and rubbed the back of your neck. The two of you stood in silence for a while until Marilyn noticed you watching Larissa again and smirked. 

“Such a shame the two of you got interrupted! It almost seemed as if you were about to kiss.” She teased and your, admittedly already red, face started blushing furiously. You hit her arm lightly.

“Stop teasing!” You hissed, but Marilyn just laughed and nudged you again. 

“What are we laughing about?” You both turned your head towards the voice and saw the headmistress standing in front of you. One perfectly sculpted eyebrow raised in curiosity. Marilyn just chuckled and smirked at you, then at Larissa. 

“Oh nothing important…” She took a deep breath and then clapped her hands together, “Well… I’ll be off… gotta get that red dye out of my hair somehow. Bye bye.” She waved at the two of you, leaving you alone with Larissa once more. She really had the audacity to leave you in situations like these every single time she had the opportunity to. You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose. Larissa watched Marilyn in confusion, then turned to you.

“Y/N… thank you for helping out with the students! I- am so sorry you had to experience this…” She sounded… sad, upset, worried? You looked up at her and saw her looking at you. 

“It’s quite alright! I’m just sad they had to experience that! It’s not fair… they’re good kids and I just don't get why anyone would want to harm them in any way…” You gave her a sad smile, then shyly reached out and grabbed her hand to squeeze it lightly. 

“But I did really enjoy dancing with you, Larissa…” she smiled back at you and squeezed your hand back. 

“As did I… uhm… would you like to come back to my quarters and get that paint washed off? Maybe have a glass of wine?” She was nervous. She was nervous and you could tell. The way her hand lightly trembled, and her eyes darted away from yours while asking. It filled your heart with that fuzzy warm feeling. You nodded and stepped to the side, still holding her hand. 

“Lead the way!”

—

In Larissa’s quarters, she quickly went into the bathroom, returning with a damp cloth and some makeup wipes in the hopes of getting the dye off your skin and hair. You managed to wipe the paint off your face without any issues, but it really stuck to your hair. Larissa went to quickly shower off the paint, and you couldn't help but think about her in the shower. Water streaming down that smooth alabaster skin. You wished you could have joined her. 

As Larissa got out of the shower, your breath got stuck in your throat. Her damp hair framed her face in gentle curls. She wasn’t wearing any makeup now, and you seriously didn’t think that this woman could get any more beautiful, but, alas, it seems you were mistaken. Before you stood a goddess in champagne coloured silk pyjamas. 

Larissa blushed lightly and smiled at you as she saw you staring. She walked up to you and gently examined your hair, your nostrils filling with the scent of her shampoo by the close proximity of her. 

“Seems the dye really stuck to your hair… here.” She handed you a fresh towel and some spare pyjamas. 

“You can take a shower if you want to!” She added quietly. You smiled back at her and nodded, taking the items in your hands. 

“Thank you! I’ll… uhm… I’ll be right back” You stammered out and quickly made your way to the bathroom. It was luxurious, like the rest of her quarters. You weren't surprised that she handed you the probably softest towel ever and the most luxurious pyjama you ever had the honour of wearing. This woman had an immaculate taste, and it was evident in every aspect of her life. 

After your quick shower, you tossed the towel into the laundry hamper in the corner of the room and walked out, your dress in your hands. That was definitely ruined now.

You entered the living room again and saw Larissa sitting on her couch in front of the fireplace, two glasses and a bottle of wine on the small table in front of it. You put your dress in your bag and sat next to her. She looked over and smiled softly, handing you a glass of wine, which you took gratefully. 

“Thank you! And thanks that I got to use your shower and… borrow some clothes! I really appreciate it.” You smiled at her and took a sip of the wine. Holy mother of god… of course, the wine was absolutely spectacular. Larissa smiled. 

“Don’t mention it. It’s the least I could do.. Plus, I do have to admit I like how my Pyjamas look on you.” She smirked and took a sip of her wine. Larissa eyed you as you just looked at her with wide eyes and a bashful look on your face. You sat the glass down and turned to look at her, clearly gathering your courage to say whatever was on your mind. She thought you looked adorable like that. However, what came out of your mouth next was not something she’d expected to hear. 

“It’s truly a shame that you didn’t get to take my dress off and discard it somewhere in your room…” You smirked at her smugly, but before you could continue your teasing, she had you already pressed against the cushion of the couch. Looking at her, you saw her eyes were full of lust, full of hunger. She gently lifted your head with her finger under your chin, forcing you to keep eye contact as she gently pressed her knee between your legs. You inhale sharply and look at her, lust evident in your gaze. 

“If you want me, all you have to do is say it.” She husked, ghosting her lips over yours. Larissa loved the way you trembled underneath her, but every time you tried to close the gap, she would pull away. 

“You have to say it, darling,” she whispered. You were getting restless, a needy whine escaping you. 

“Please Larissa…” You whimper and look at her with your best puppy eyes. 

“Please what, darling?”

“Please… I need you… I want you,” you breathe out. The heat began to build, and you could already feel that you were soaked. Larissa grinned down at you. 

“Good girl!” 

You didn’t have time to react as Larissa finally closed the gap, pulling you into a bruising kiss. It was so full of need and lust. Your lips moved against hers in perfect harmony. Wrapping your arms around her, you pulled her close. 

The kiss quickly grew hot, passionate. Larissa bit your lower lip, causing you to gasp and giving her the perfect opportunity to deepen the kiss. She explored your mouth with her tongue, leaving you in a state of dizzying bliss. Her skilled tongue fought with yours for dominance, kissing you with such fervour that both of you almost ran out of breath. 

You pulled apart just quickly to catch your breaths before Larissa attacked your neck with hot open-mouthed kisses. Trailing her tongue over your pulse point, then latching on to it and sucking hard. Your back arched into her, head tilting to the side to give her better access. 

The aching between your legs became almost unbearable. You wrapped one of your legs around her hips, pulling her closer, but Larissa gently pulled away, causing a pathetic whine to escape. 

“Patience darling!” She husked as she sat up and swiftly picked you up, carrying you to her bedroom and dropping you on the bed. The second you laid there, she was already on you again, her lips continuing their assault on your neck. Larissa moved to slowly unbutton the pyjama shirt you were wearing, but you were too impatient. With a swift motion, you helped her unbutton the rest of the shirt and pulled it off of your body, leaving you with a bare chest. Larissa chuckled darkly. 

“Impatient are we?” she roamed her hands over your soft stomach, cupping one of your breasts. Dipping her head down again, she moved to the other breast and took your hardened nipple in her mouth, teasing it with her teeth and tongue. You moved your hands in her hair, pulling gently at the sensation she was rewarding you with. Larissa moaned against your breast as a reaction which caused you to buck your hips up. You were so desperate for her, and it was so pathetic, but you didn’t care. All you could feel, small, taste, hear, was her. And you needed more.

“Rissa please,” you groaned as you felt her lips travel towards the hem of the pyjama trousers. 

“Need you,” you breathed out. Looking down, you saw her smirk up at you. As she pulled away again you were about to protest but seeing her take her blouse off silenced you immediately. You sat up, reaching out to her and running your fingertips over her body, watching goosebumps spreading over her skin. You cupped her breasts and massaged them, teasing her nipples with your fingers as you leaned in to kiss her. 

Larissa melted into your touch and kiss. Quiet sighs and moans leaving her lips as she laid you back down. 

“I need to taste you darling,” she whispered between kisses, and you whimpered in response, nodding gently. 

“Please! Please…” 

Larissa kissed her way down your body again, pulling the trousers down as she moved her kisses down your legs. She threw the trousers somewhere into the dark of the room, then moved her hands to your knees, spreading your legs gently. She groaned at the sight of a wet spot on your white lace underwear. The blonde looked up at you, watching your reaction as she ran her thumb over the wet spot, pressing down on it gently. Your back arched off the bed and your mouth opened in a quiet moan. 

“P- please Rissa… need you so bad,” you whimpered, rolling your hips against her thumb, needing more friction. In any other situation Larissa would have loved to tease you more, but she was just as desperate to taste you as you were to feel her tongue on you. So without further pause, she swiftly pulled your thong down your legs. She almost moaned at the sight of your glistening cunt in front of her. 

“All of this because of me?” she groaned and moved to kiss the inside of your thigh as you nodded. 

“You’re such a good girl, y/n.'' Larissa couldn't hold back any more. She had to taste you. The smell of your arousal made her mouth water and her head dizzy. The second her tongue made contact with your wet and hot cunt, the breath got stuck in your throat and Larissa let out one of the most vulgar moans you’ve ever heard, causing your eyes to roll to the back of your head. 

Larissa wasted no time in eating you out. Her tongue danced around your clit before she captured it between her lips and sucked. You moaned out loud, her name falling off your lips like a prayer. The way she used her mouth on you made you feel ecstatic, you felt like you were on cloud nine. The world, every responsibility you had, everything that has ever bothered or hurt you, everything that has been on your mind and stressing you out lately was just gone. 

Larissa never slowed her ministrations on you, listening to your cues, noticing how your body reacted to certain things. She loved how easily your body reacted to her. It's like you were made to be pleased by her. 

“R-issa… need more..” you gasped out between moans. You needed more of her, needed her in you. Larissa smirked and ran her tongue over the length of your slit one last time before rubbing two of her fingers against your entrance gently, coating it with your slick. You were so desperate to feel her fill you up, your hips rolling against her, motioning for her to stop teasing you. She easily slipped one finger in as soon as she thought they were wet enough. You let out a low moan and moved against her as she started pumping her finger in and out slowly. After a while, she pushed a second finger in and watched you grip the sheets. 

“You take me so well, my love.” She praised and moved kisses up your body as she picked up speed with her fingers. Larissa managed to hit spots no one ever had, curling her fingers against that soft, spongy spot that made you see stars. Your walls clenched around her fingers, and you felt the coil tighten in your abdomen. 

“M’close… Riss-ah” your moans only spurred her on more. She wanted to hear you, she wanted to see you come undone, she wanted to hear her name on your lips over and over and over again. Larissa picked up her pace again, using her thumb to rub small circles over your sensitive clit. The coil in your abdomen was about to snap, and she felt it. 

“That's it! Cum for me, y/n. Let me hear you,” she husked into your ear as she nibbled on your earlobe. That was all you needed for the coil to snap. Your legs and arms wrapped around her, needing her impossibly close as you came on her hand with a cry of her name. Larissa was gentle. She helped you ride out your orgasm and then very carefully pulled her fingers out. Your limbs went weak and dropped from her. You lay on the bed, breathing heavily and exhausted. You felt a shift on the bed but didn't have the strength to open your eyes. A few minutes later you felt the mattress dip again then felt a soft, damp and warm sensation between your legs. Larissa had gotten some towels to help clean you up. She used the damp one to clean between your legs and used a dry one to dab the sweat off your face. 

A soft smile spread over your lips as the blonde returned the towels, then came back and laid in bed next to you. Pulling her closer, you started to press soft sleepy kisses to her chin and neck, but she stopped you gently. You looked up at her with a pout, and she kissed your forehead gently. 

“Rest!” She whispered and pulled you close. You frowned at her. 

“But I want to make you feel good too,” you whispered back and held tightly onto her. She just shook her head, a content and also sleepy smile gracing her features. 

“You can. Tomorrow! We have all day to ourselves tomorrow,” she replied and stroked your cheek gently, looking into your eyes lovingly. You smiled and nodded, snuggling into her embrace, you let out a quiet and content sigh. This felt right. This felt like home. 

“Good Night Rissa.” 

“Good Night y/n.”

-------

I hope you liked it <3 Comments are greatly appreciated :3

[rippersz]

𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒕

✩*⢄⢁✧ --------- ✧⡈⡠*✩

✩*⢄⢁✧ --------- ✧⡈⡠*✩

A Larissa Weems x F!Reader oneshot (for now) - Normie Reader experiences a very sudden heat for whatever reason and oh good lord Larissa is just so hot how can anyone expect you to work under these conditions… (NSFW: Vulgar, Breeding Kink, Shapeshifting Advantages, All that Jazz) (Larissa is just mentioned/imagined in this.) Am I sorry? Meh.

✩*⢄⢁✧ --------- ✧⡈⡠*✩

There was just something in her that lit something in you.

A fire the likes of which you’d never encountered before. As though a flame was constantly flicked on beneath your heart, causing it to race, causing it to pound, causing it to bring the blood from your limbs up to your cheeks; painting you in a deep blush. Making you dizzy. Making you ache. Making you feel a type of delicious never-ending burn that seemed to spark the very moment you saw her.

Her.

Oh, her.

The same woman that made you realize that you wanted to become heavily acquainted with Lust and all of the friendly benefits it could offer. The very catalyst to your panic and your flush and the shake in your hands as you pressed yourself up against the wall of your shower and imagined it was her doing it instead. Oh how her hands would feel… how her touch would mold… how her teeth would graze and nibble and bite and gnash in ways that sent you spiraling. The muscles in her biceps flexing as she interlocked your hands and forced your arms up over your head, holding you to the chilled tile, making you shiver even if the water was hot.

It felt like the word ‘Please’ was on the very tip of your tongue whenever you passed her in the hall. ‘Please,’ you wanted to murmur to her one day, ‘Please, put me out of my misery and ruin me before I explode.’ Because that’s what it felt like, didn’t it? The strange pull in your bones, crawling up through your veins, invading your mind, it felt like you were being stretched taut and that no amount of self-assured pleasure could help release your tormented body. Explosion, at that point then, was imminent. And dangerous. You could barely concentrate on classes; you could barely pay attention to another person; you could barely think about anything other than her fingers… and her tongue… and those deep bottomless sapphire eyes - staring straight into your soul as you fell apart beneath her.

Some part of you told you that you were going through heat. That the very desperate natural human basic need for pleasure was just that - something a person experienced from time to time. Something that werewolves and cats and animals felt whenever that season came around. But you were a ‘normie’. You’d never felt that before… until Larissa Weems, of course. Until you sat down in a staff meeting one day and peered down at her painted nails and long tapered fingers and delicate hands, woven with blue veins and a wicked strength you’d never seen, and wondered what her index and middle finger would taste like when resting on your tongue. The thought still brought redness to your cheeks and drool to the inside of your mouth. It was just so terribly depraved. So desperate. So needy in a way that you wanted her to say- to tell you- to whisper in your ear while you whimpered into the warm skin of her shoulder.

‘Look at you… such a silly little thing… trembling all for me…’

All for you. All for her. All for Larissa, at all times, no matter what.

You knew that people were starting to worry about you and your actions - especially Larissa herself. She was your boss after all, she was supposed to pick up on any behavioral changes, and you had definitely changed. Without even knowing, you became far more introverted and spent more time alone than you ever had before. Though then again, most of that time was dedicated to taking care of the relentless throb between your thighs. Honestly, sometimes it got so strong that it interrupted your entire day and you had to find some way to ease the strange pangs before they got out of hand.

And you’d been doing a good job. Really, you had. You’d been taking the necessary moments to rid yourself of the feeling for at least a few hours before it came back - and that was enough. It was enough.

Until it wasn’t.

Until it began to hurt.

Until you realized that yes, indeed, you were somehow going through heat - and there was no one there to help you with it.

–

‘Good morning Larissa,

I just wanted to email you with a quick update and say that I, unfortunately, have fallen quite ill. I don’t think I’m equipped enough to handle my classes, and I’m very sorry for the inconvenience. Knowing this would get worse, I already printed out lesson plans and activities for my students. They’re all on my desk in my classroom.

Thank you - hopefully I get over this soon.

Y/N’

A quick email. That was good. You didn’t specify timing but that was fine. Your ‘heat’, for lack of a better word, had already been happening for about three weeks. If you were correct in your research, it wouldn’t be too much longer - perhaps a week or so more. Though in the long run, it would be a bigger pain in the ass than you expected. Already, your room smelled of sex and was so stuffy that you had to keep a window open constantly. And to get rid of the scent, you resorted to wall plug-ins and incense; they were the best you could think of on the fly. The rest of the issue - such as the air being far too hot - could only be remedied with a lack of clothing and many cold showers.

You supposed that was the best blessing during your time of strife- having an ensuite all to yourself. Staff were given the option to live on campus or live near Jericho, but you decided that ease of access was more important than living utterly alone. And, another plus that allowed you to let out a sigh of relief from time to time, was the fact that the teacher’s wing was very far from the students’. So any of the werewolves that wandered the halls wouldn’t smell you - as long as you stayed in your room. Thus, the email. And the isolation. And the constant worry that often came as an after-thought during your moments of… reprieve.

Even then, you truly felt you were going mad.

Tears often leaked from the corners of your eyes at night when you twisted around in bed, trying (and failing) to keep your hands from wandering about your body. You’d never experienced the phrase ‘instinctive’ to such an extent until that span of time where your searching fingers tip-tapped their way down the soft skin of your rounded tummy and found themselves drawing circles around your clit without thinking. Because it was all done without thinking. Even thinking was done without thinking.

Most of the time, your head was filled with thoughts of your boss. It was always Larissa. It was always Larissa and it was always her tall figure dwarfing your own, pushing you into a state of submission that you wanted to fall into anyway. She wouldn’t even have to try very hard - she wouldn’t even have to bend you over her lap and spank you red unless you came without her permission and she wouldn’t even- she-

‘Y/N,

I’m very sorry to hear you’ve fallen ill; please don’t worry about your classes as I can provide a substitute immediately. That being said, take as much time as you need to recover. I’ll stop by later today to chat briefly about the form you can fill out for an extended absence. Thank you for letting me know and I sincerely hope you feel better soon.

Larissa W.’

The ping of the email distracted you for a moment.

Good- that was good- your classes would be covered and you were ‘off the hook’. Great. Take as much time as you need mhm mhm… blah blah blah… stop by later today… mh-

Wait.

Wait, what?

You blinked, stared down at the lit up screen of your phone, and then blinked again.

She was… stopping… by? Later? On that day? When the clench in your abdomen was so strong that you were descending into sniffling sobs every two seconds? On that day, when you had just reached the point in which your fingers- the four you managed to fit and utilize- no longer got rid of the ache? On that day, when you were cursing yourself for never buying a fucking sex toy just for the Hell of it?

In your defense, you didn’t think you were ever going to descend into a spontaneous excruciating heat at any point in your life- but it didn’t really matter anyway.

Because whether you liked it or not, Larissa Weems, your boss, the headmistress of the Nevermore Academy for Outcasts, the main event of your wet dreams and sexual fantasies was going to stop by your room for a ‘brief chat’... and you hadn’t been clothed for three days. And your legs were trembling all the time. And the insides of your soft thighs were coated in slick constantly. And your skin was always overheated and sensitive and your voice was hoarse due to the amount of muffled screaming you pressed into the fabric of your pillow and your bed was very much unmade and your room smelled like a 24 hour sex dungeon and the blush on your cheeks had only increased tenfold by the time you sat up in your unmade bed, winced, and let out a whine.

Oh why had the Gods cursed you so?

Why had they placed a hex on your little human body and filled it with a libido that could only match the ferocity of dragons? Why did they force a potion of lust down your throat and place you in front of Larissa Weems and make you look at her with eyes of dark desire? Why did they place the image of her sloping hips and long legs and thick thighs in your mind and poison you with dreams that followed you into the waking world?

Why did you want her so badly?

Why did you yearn for her touch and why did you want her smell enveloping your body and why- oh god why- did you want to kiss her so often? Why did you want her to take care of you? Why did you want her of all people! to take you to bed and make you see stars? Why did you want red lipstick covering your skin and why did you want your face between her thighs and why did you want to feel her come apart beneath you? Why did she drive you wild? Why did she force you into a state of fluster that you could only pull yourself out of when you were alone?

Why did she plague you?

“I can’t do this…,” you suddenly confessed to no one in particular as you let out a sigh.

The fire had dulled to a simmer long enough for you to stand and slowly make your way to the bathroom.

Pain experienced during heat, you came to find, was far different than any other pain. It was like you felt empty - utterly disgustingly empty - and your body hated that. It rebelled. It made your abdomen, your fucking womb, feel hot. And after the heat, it began to ache. Like you were sitting on the edge of an orgasm and you needed that extra push- that extra kiss- that extra lick of praise- to send you tipping off the edge into an ocean of bliss…. But you couldn’t have it. The push, the kiss, the praise wasn’t there. Nor was the thrust of strong hips, or the scratch of fingernails, or the hissed growl of dominance in your ear. None of it. And your body knew that, so it made you clench and unclench constantly; and it punished you for your negligence and made your clit extra sensitive and your nipples hard and eager to be teased and your skin- oh your poor skin- was practically begging for someone to touch it. To mark it. To hold it and squeeze it and bite it and make it theirs.

Make it hers.

Goodness, you were pathetic. The fog that fell over your mind whenever you thought of Larissa was so hypnotizing that once your thoughts got going, they couldn’t stop.

‘Think of her,’ the strange lustful monster within you hissed, ‘Think of her and all of the sinful things she could do to you. Think of her hands pulling your hair, think of her warm thighs straddling your waist, think of her tongue running itself along your neck… and down your chest… and lower and lower… lower… pooling with drool and letting it drip-drop onto your cunt… licking at your clit…’

A whimper slipped past your lips as soon as you stepped into the water of your shower.

The heat was both soothing and torturous, doing you no favors as it instantly glazed the top of your mind; normally you’d prefer to make it cold to put a damper on your libido, but the need to get off yet again overpowered any lingerings of common sense.

But really, if you were being honest with yourself, there was no common sense during ‘heat’. At all. You figured that out rather quickly when, on the fourth day of wanting to be fucked mercilessly, you began entertaining thoughts of breeding. Of course you didn’t want a child. But the thought… the thought… of such warmth in you… filling what was always so painfully empty… of someone- of her- holding you down and breeding you full, growling that you were to be hers forever, was something that had you cumming in under five minutes. You simply couldn’t help it. And ever since that thought, it was as though you crossed into the dark side. All kinds of kinks and experiments filtered into your horny little brain, and all you could do to keep yourself from going crazy was to keep orgasming until your fingers could barely move.

It was the worst experience of your life…

…when you weren’t sitting on the built-in shower stool and thrusting three fingers into yourself, imagining Larissa watching you from beyond the glass. It was terrible except for when you pictured her telling you to go faster, to slow down, to take your fingers out completely and spread your folds wide so she could coo over how cute you looked when your cunt ached for her touch. It was maddening while you weren’t fantasizing about her stepping into the shower with you- all 6 feet, 3 inches of her- and threading her perfect hand in your hair and pressing you to her venus mound and making you kiss it until you came around your own fingers. Then making you stick your tongue out and look up at her as she slowly rolled her hips, coating you in a taste you knew you’d never ever get tired of.

Maybe even… oh god… maybe even shifting that part of herself and surprising you by sliding the head of her cock into your mouth and making you worship her until you forgot your own name. Running your eager tongue along the hot veins… peering up through your eyelashes as she slowly- slowly- craned her head back and let out a deep bone-shaking groan… Unable to help herself as she pushed you down just a bit more, slowly making that ‘pretty mouth of yours’ (as she called it) take as much of her as it could.

“There… yes, right there darling…” You could practically hear her words, as if she were with you, while your eyes rolled back and your other hand came up to rub furiously as your clit.

Unfortunately, even as you sat there and felt the prickling wave of heat wash over your body, clenching tightly around your own fingers while you orgasmed, you knew that it wouldn’t be enough. You knew that the water running down your face was mixed with frustrated tears. You knew that no climax you reached all by yourself would ever be able to properly satiate your body and every thing it was feeling. After all, a ‘normie’ was not supposed to experience ‘heat’ - and your mind was already so close to breaking all by itself.

It was just a shame that Larissa wasn’t there to snap it in half for you.

✩*⢄⢁✧ --------- ✧⡈⡠*✩

This was just a quick exercise - I want to better my smut writing abilities. New updates soon and all that. Any thoughts on a Part 2? - Ripley x

✩*⢄⢁✧ --------- ✧⡈⡠*✩

[wasjustred]

ahhh iloveyourworkssomuch!! 💖 i'd like to request something along the lines of sugar mommy!larissa (maybe with smut, who knows *wink*) 'cause she's all i can think about these days... anyways, happy early new years!!!

Easy Does It - NSFW Larissa Weems x f!Reader

Summary: Larissa spoils you beyond comprehension. Pairing(s): Larissa Weems x f!Reader Warnings: Smut. A lot of it. (Cunnilingus, fingering, strap-on — all Reader receiving) Word Count: ~4.7k

Author’s Note: I hope this meets your expectations, anon! I originally intended to make Larissa way more domineering, but once I began writing it just didn’t feel like her——I tried to stay true to her character where I could. As always, feedback is welcome ﹠. appreciated! ♡ (un-beta-ed as per usual!) ╱ AO3

The arrangement you and Larissa have has been smoothly gliding along for about six months now: you meet for dinner every weekend, in a town about half an hour outside of Jericho. You wear an outfit she’s picked out for you, she pulls your seat out, you share conversation and good - expensive - food and drinks, and you end on the stoop of your apartment, leaning into the kiss she places on your cheek, with a weekly allowance in cash in your purse. It’s the perfect set-up, nothing you’d dare protest, but sometimes you honest to god wish she’d just break her own rules and rail you ‘till the bed breaks.

Tonight you meet her at The Aviary, draped in a black satin dress with a deep slit up the leg––one of her favorites. Larissa helps you into your seat as she usually does, but before she takes her own, she places a long velvet box on your empty appetizer plate.

“Ooh, what’s this?”

“Open it and see.” A small, proud smirk turns her lips, eyes sparkling. You run your fingers over the velvet and lift at the seam, features going slack with surprise when you realize what’s hidden inside: a collar necklace, glittering diamond-cut, softening into a single falling arc of gems which ebbs, finally, into a small, shining teardrop. Light from the restaurant’s fixtures seem drawn to it, gleaming to and fro in a scattered stream of reflection. Your gaze snaps back to hers almost immediately, heart pounding.

“Larissa, I–”

“Do you like it?”

“I– Of course I do, it’s– it’s so beautiful..” Your voice softens and tapers off as you return your attention to the box before you. It’s probably the most beautiful thing anyone’s ever given to you, but you stop short of admitting this. “Help me put it on?” 

Larissa’s smile grows as she gathers the box in her hands, lifting the necklace from its cushion. She moves to stand behind you and tenderly brushes your hair aside; her hands are as soft as anything, so gentle in the way they handle you, securing the piece around your neck. Your own hand raises to rest atop the new weight at your clavicle, and when she sets her palms along your shoulders and squeezes, you shift your hand up to capture hers.

“What’s the occasion?”

“Do I need one?” Larissa presses her lips to your cheek from behind before she retakes her seat, arching a brow in challenge. The answer is no, of course; this is how you work, special occasion or not. She always manages to keep you on your toes, though, far more thoughtful and intimate than any other ‘financeur’ you’ve ever humored in the past: Tennis bracelets set with gemstones which perfectly match your eyes, a new coffee bar set-up when you mentioned off-hand that Starbucks had discontinued your favorite drink, a signed first edition copy of your favorite book she ‘just so happened to come across’ while out of state. Much more than the simple, routine bank deposits and luxury brand pieces that were never quite you which you received from others. Larissa’s gifts have always been astoundingly personal.

You’ve never told her this, but you stopped dating altogether once your little dynamic began. How could anyone else compare? She makes you feel important without ever having to work for it ––– like you’re lovable, worthy, because you exist, and nothing more. You’re breaking  your own rules, being so enamored with her, but you refuse to dwell on it.

“No, you don’t…” You trail off as your food arrives, ducking your head in thanks as the waiter sets everything out before you. Any discussion of her gift to you ends there on Larissa’s own accord, swiftly and advantageously moving on to a new topic as soon as the waiter has left you. The rest of the night is spent sipping expensive wine and musing instead on all of the high-culture goings-on you never get to discuss with anyone else: Art, ballet, classical music. Larissa’s a delicious trove of knowledge and opinions and she impresses you with each turn of a new topic. You often find yourself wondering - not just tonight, but many nights whilst basking in her presence - why she’s chosen you. You can hold good conversation, of course, and have an appreciation for the finer things in life usually reserved for those older and/or wealthier than you, but what’s always been curious, what’s always given you pause, is that she never asks for anything else in return. You have no choice but to ask yourself what it is you possibly have to offer to a woman like her––but you almost always fall short of a satisfying answer.

She’s talking you both through an analysis of the most recent play she brought you to when you take one of her hands in your own, tracing the lines of her palm as you listen. Larissa stumbles over her words at first contact, a rare occurrence for her, and blushes pink at the sensation. When you glance up at her in question she quickly averts her gaze and carries on, moving to smooth her thumb over yours as you continue. You love her fingers: they’re long, delicate, awfully reminiscent of the Greek statues she enjoys waxing poetic about. It’s an instance in which you’re reminded art, very often, echoes us in a continuous cycle of give and take.

You don’t say a word when you notice her face darken another shade as you press a kiss to the inside of her wrist before moving on to dote upon her other hand.

She’s not once explicitly told you, but Larissa’s never expected you to take a physical liking to her. She set the rules she did early on for a reason, knowing she could live with looking and not touching, taking care of you and watching your face turn alight with each gift or special night out without ever ending the evening by your side. No sex necessary, no physical affection expected. But here you are, fawning over her, and she’s never been more conflicted.

To assuage the feeling, she convinces herself it’s the wine that’s made you this way––a good bottle will go a long way, thus your touch must be the product of inebriation, not genuine affection. You’ve both long since finished off your meals when Larissa pays the bill and drives you home as she normally does, to an apartment she partly finances (not fully, at your own insistence that there are some things you should take care of yourself) and walks you to your door, stooping to kiss your cheek. Routine. 

She is right about one thing, however, and that’s the potency of the house wine tonight. Not on your reasoning, but your self-control. You spent the car ride home admiring her profile in the passing streetlamps and traffic lights, studying the way each red light cast itself across her, how the passing headlights of opposing traffic bathed her in a cinematic glow you associated only, appropriately, with Vivien Leigh in A Streetcar Named Desire. Ghostlike, almost. Ethereal. And at that same wine’s behest, you lean further now into her goodnight kiss than you’d normally allow yourself.

It’s as she prepares to leave that you decide - anchored by the weight of the diamonds around your neck - that this is the night you’ll throw caution to the wind, fervently hoping it won’t backfire and end with her rejection and a ruined arrangement that you’d both worked to preserve over the past six months.

“Do you want to join me for a nightcap? I know we don’t usually, but.. I’d like you to. If you’d like to, of course. If you don’t that’s–––”

“Y/N,” she interrupts. You can hardly tell but her heart’s just about burst out of her chest. There’s an inner battle waging right on the precipice of her ribcage and your bright, hopeful eyes staring up at her aren’t making it any easier to parse out. Do you feel obligated somehow to pay her back for the necklace? She knows you know she’d never ask that of you, that your arrangement is not a traditional one, but has she unknowingly pushed the bounds all the same? Did you simply imbibe too much and don’t really have a clue what it is you’re saying?

Or, perhaps.. Most dangerously: Do you mean it?

“I don’t want you to feel as though you have to… ‘pay me back’ for tonight. That was never my intention.”

She volleys her own inner turmoil dead straight in your direction and stares down at you with what might be, if you squint hard enough, a nervous expression.

You lean sideways against the door and cross your arms over yourself, appraising her. Does she really not want you? What the hell does she get out of this if she doesn’t? You just can’t wrap your head around it, and while you insisted to yourself you’d never outwardly question the bounds of your relationship and why they’ve settled where they are, you’ve put yourself at a crossroads.

“Do you think I’m pretty?”

She balks.

“What? Of course I do. What does that have to do with anything?” Larissa’s expression is a mixture of incredulity and apprehension. You decide to bite the bullet then as she lingers uncertainly beneath the moonlight.

“I don’t understand what you get out of this. Am I not–– you think I’m pretty but you don’t want to touch me? You pay for my livelihood but you don’t want anything tangible in return?” You both purse your lips simultaneously and you’d laugh if the situation weren’t so dire all of a sudden. “You confuse me, Larissa.”

She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, a small cloud bursting forth as she sighs.

You fucked it, didn’t you? Fucked it right to hell, and now she’s never going to speak to you again.

“You’re an idiot, do you know that?” The air goes still.

…

It’s news to you. 

Larissa suddenly pushes forward and traps you against the front of your door, hands leveled at your waist. “I’ve always wanted you,” she grits out, her arms tensing at your sides. “I just didn’t want you to feel as though you had to. Return the sentiment, that is. You’re too precious for that.” Her voice is low and rough in your ear, strangled. You grab hold of her forearms to keep yourself upright when her tone shoots right through you, breathing heavily. You gradually lift your gaze, poring over every curve of hers as you do, and meet her eyes. They’ve nearly gone black with lust, and a subtle quiver in her lip tells you everything you need to know.

“Kiss me.”

Larissa groans, which is admittedly not the reaction you’d expected, and presses further into you, her nose brushing against your cheek.  You can feel the heat of her grow, ensnaring you in perfect contrast to the cool night air.

“You have to tell me you want it, darling. I need you to say it.” … Oh. A new wave of arousal surges through you as you turn your head ever so slightly, her lips hovering just out of reach. The shared breath between you has become fraught with possibility, with the overwhelming, unspent energy that’s been collecting over the last six months without either of you quite noticing. Of course this is what she needs: confirmation, not that you’re hers but that she’s yours, by choice and choice alone.

“I want you, Larissa. Please,” you whisper, squeezing her arms in an attempt to ground yourself. She says nothing in return, instead immediately closing the distance and engulfing you in a desperate, searing kiss. Your cheeks burn and it’s all you can do not to melt into her fully, sucking in a sharp breath as her tongue slides against your bottom lip. This, this, you realize, is exactly what you’d imagined: Feeling her against you, wrapped up tightly in her arms, being drawn in and freed all at once, struggling to contain the desire you feel pulsing within yourself. It’s like Larissa’s split open your mind and picked through every thought there, coming away with only the most indecent imaginings and putting them to use as her hips pitch forward and her hands grasp achingly at the roundness of your thighs.

“Open the door,” she husks, suddenly ripping herself away and turning you at the waist to face the door. You fumble for your keys as she scores your neck and shoulders with hot, open-mouth kisses, running the tip of her tongue along the muscle that pulls taut there.

“F-fuck.” The chuckle she gives in response to your whimpering, shaking when you can’t fit the key into its slot, only weakens you further. Larissa must know her effect well as she wraps an arm around you to hold you upright, the other grabbing the key from you and swiftly unlocking the door in one go.

“Trust me, I’m trying.”

Laughter follows you both as you take the stairs one at a time, pausing every few to take her tongue in your mouth and run your hands along her front. You bypass the living room once you reach the landing - a feat in itself - and lead Larissa straight to your bedroom, kicking one heel off in the hall and the other at the threshold of your room. 

She stops you just before you reach the bed and holds you steady for a moment: “Hold on, I want to look at you..” You hair is mussed, curls losing their hold in the heat of your entanglement, chest heaving and red. Larissa steps forward to brush her thumb over your lips, searching your face for any sign of hesitation or doubt.

She doesn’t find any.

“Christ, you’re a pretty thing,” she hums. The pad of her thumb pulls at your bottom lip and you acquiesce, tilting your chin up before taking her finger into your mouth, rolling your tongue against its tip, watching her with wide eyes that imply an innocence you don’t possess. A hiss escapes her when your teeth come down around her knuckle and she scowls, gripping your jaw with an intensity that rivets the surrounding atmosphere as she rips her hand away, smashing your lips together once more.

In the next second the backs of your knees are buckling against the edge of the mattress and you squeak; Larissa had slipped a hand over your sternum and shoved, launching you down hard into the bed. Wet heat urges your hips forward as she crawls over you, but her hands swiftly come down to force them back into the mattress, trapping you there.

“Patience, darling.” You scoff as she begins the journey down your body, placing lazy kisses to your lips, cheek, jaw, chest while her fingers deftly work to pull your dress from you. You lift your back so she can snake a hand around and drag the zipper down to its end at the top of your hips, wriggling free and moving to pull at her own dress–––but she grabs your wrists, pinning them above you with a devious smirk. 

“Ah, ah. Let me spoil you,” she murmurs into the crook of your neck, one hand traveling to cup the dampness between your legs. Electricity cracks against your spine at her touch; you’re sweltering and freezing all at once, watching her eyes rake over you with a hunger you’ve never seen on her before. Her fingers draw idle circles around your clit as she works her way down your body, leaving a trail of wetness in her wake where tongue meets flesh, nipping at the precipice of your hip bones, glancing up at you before she licks you through your panties. There’s no helping the whine you turn free when she all but purrs at the taste she gets of you from the soaked fabric.

“Larissa, please,” you huff, lifting your hips up to meet her mouth. She takes three steps then in quick succession: chuckles into the skin of your inner thigh; pulls your panties down and off of you; and presses a series of messy, teasing kisses to your bare sex. Your fingers clutch at the top of your duvet as she finally begins to devour you, breath hitching as her tongue circles your entrance and delves into you. In a moment of white hot desperation, you hook your legs around her, calves flexing against her back as you shudder into her touch. She’s ravenous, consuming you with long, uninterrupted strokes that ride on the flat of her tongue, lapping your slickness up and winding into you all at once. The coil is tight within you already, pulsing with every movement of her mouth. You’re almost worried it’ll be over before it scarcely has had the chance to start, but a quiet, bemused voice in the back of your mind ridicules you: Larissa is nothing if not generous.

“You taste divine,” she breathes, before returning her ministrations to your clit, sucking and popping with the filthiest fucking moan you’ve ever heard. The feeling of her tongue against that tight bundle of nerves prompts your eyes to roll back, eyelids fluttering, and imbues your hands with a mind of their own, working them swiftly into her hair and pulling her as close to your cunt as you can get her, hips lurching in an unsteady rhythm. You can feel her amusement at your desperation as distinctly as you feel her mouth, but it’s quickly forgotten when she slides two fingers into you with an ease that makes you lightheaded. The sound of your wetness is sinful, and you have to admit it only spurs you on.

“Fuck me, fuck me, pleasefuckme––” Larissa’s grinning against you as she pumps her fingers, curling into you with a startling accuracy that leaves you breathless and aching. You press your cheek to your shoulder in a feeble attempt to keep yourself above the threshold dividing pleasure and bliss, useless as she slips another finger into you and flicks her tongue against you, quickening her pace as she follows the mounting tone of your pleas. Every touch spreads a warmth through you impossible to ignore, stirring a frantic need beneath the surface of your skin.

“Cum for me, darling, cum for me, that’s right.” Larissa presses the heel of her hand into the space just below the swell of your stomach and the coil snaps suddenly, sharply, sucking all of the air out of you at the same time that you yelp and tense with equal force, clamping around her face as your orgasm tears through you. She continues to lap at you even as your hands push at her, holding fast to your thighs to keep her place. Your legs shake as she builds you up in the same breath that you’re coming down, a second orgasm already rearing its head.

“I can’t,” you keen, but Larissa shakes her head and unlatches briefly to disagree.

“Yes you can, Y/N––be a good girl for me.” It washes over you when she lowers her face again and wraps her lips around your clit, sucking with an unfazed firmness that shocks you to your center. You’re tingling over every limb, pacing your breaths to ride you through this second crest. “That’s it..” Larissa coos, running her hand over your leg comfortingly. You can hardly breathe as the shockwaves roll through you one after the other, and the darkness of the ceiling above you seems to double in size as you stare in a daze.

Your muscles melt into the mattress one by one, sinking deep as Larissa finally pulls her head away and crawls forward to kiss you; you can taste your slickness on her tongue, familiar and tangy. When you part, gasping for air, you wrap a hand around the back of her neck and press your foreheads together, gazing up into her eyes with the softest look you can muster after so thoroughly falling apart in her hands.

“My turn?” She laughs loud and heartily at your doe-eyed demeanor. You’re itching to touch her, to taste her, and she knows it.

“Mmm, maybe.” Larissa shrugs and rises up from her position over you, sliding off to the side of the bed where you can’t reach her––and not for lack of trying. A whine catches in your throat when she shoots a withering look over her shoulder, patting the space beside her. “Help me with my dress, darling.”

You waste no time in flipping over onto your knees, shuffling over to her and grappling with the zipper of her dress. You flush when she laughs both at your inability to get it down in one swift motion and the frustrated little growl that bubbles up from your chest.

“Not funny,” you complain, gritting your teeth as she shifts and the zipper gives, revealing the smooth, snowy expanse of her back. Instilled with a renewed sense of hunger, you push the fabric away from both of her shoulders and continue the journey down and around to her breasts, thrilled she’s forgone a bra tonight as you palm the supple flesh there and roll her nipples between your fingers. The sigh she expels is a ragged one, her hands dwarfing yours whilst her head falls back against your shoulder. You revel in the sight of her lip caught between her teeth.

“I want to fuck you.” You just barely catch it in between her labored breaths and your own thunderous heartbeat, but you do, and you turn to glance at her curiously before her meaning hits you square in the face.

“But––”

She cuts you off. “I want to destroy you, Y/N. You can taste me later,” Larissa mutters, pivoting without another warning and capturing your lips again. You wouldn’t complain if it weren’t for the utter distress you felt to get your hands on her. She doesn’t give you a chance to rebut, however, as she slips out of her dress and climbs over you, guiding your hands to grip her ass. “Later, I promise.” She pulls back to appraise you, taking a rigorous inventory that she’ll commit to memory if it’s the last thing she does: Your flushed skin, the way you can’t keep still under her touch, the unmistakable shine of desire in your eyes.

“In th-the nightstand,” you stammer. Suddenly the realization that Larissa is here, in your bed, and you, at her mercy, is too much at once. You’re trembling with need and anticipation. She tilts her head at you, one second, two passing before she follows your guidance and pulls the drawer open, grinning wickedly at what she finds there.

“Harness?”

You nod vigorously, propping yourself up on your elbows and directing her through another drawer of your dresser. The slow, methodical way in which she fastens the leather around herself surely burns itself into your brain, and you can’t help the shameless moan that seeps out when she smooths an indulgent layer of lubricant along the silicone from base to tip, a delicious sight between her legs.

Larissa approaches with an emphasized swing to her hips, bending at the waist to press a chaste kiss to your lips before she nudges you to scoot back into the middle of the bed, positioning herself above you with a hand on either side of your head. She dips her face down into the hollow of your throat. 

Her voice vibrates against you despite her hushed tone. “Are you ready for me, darling?”

Your brain short-circuits at her words, imperfect timing. God, she’s fucking hot.

She lifts her head again to catch your gaze and smirks, nibbling on the tip of your chin. “Use your words.”

“Yes, yes, I’m ready,” you rasp, drawing your nails down the broad expanse of her back in anticipation.

The moment she slides into you is pure ecstasy: your toes curl and you haphazardly clamber for purchase upon her skin as she buries herself deep within you, stalling for a few moments to give you time to adjust. The way Larissa groans into the motion draws out an amusing - filthy - rumination about her being able to feel every stroke as with her own body, delighting in your wetness. She fills you seamlessly, snapping her hips against you before slowly drawing herself back, only to repeat the pattern and plunge into you as deeply as she’s able. It’s bruising and pleasurable all at once, how she brushes up against your walls and the ridges of the toy hit what your mind insists is every nerve-ending within you.

You rock together desperately, bodies moving as one as if you’d been doing this for centuries, mapping each other out and bringing each other to your peak. You savor the novel, tangled scent of sweat and arousal, a newly formed association with the sound of Larissa’s broken whimpers now frozen in your psyche.

A startled breath leaves you as Larissa abruptly anchors her weight to one side and pulls you on top of her, flipping your positions. Her arms wrap tight around you, looped at your back and around your shoulder as she fucks up into you at a crushing pace. You whine into the crook of her neck and realize you’re on the verge of tears, an overwhelming wave of pleasure and desperation wracking your body. Quiet grunts accompany her each thrust, slowing just so until it’s a steady pattern you can count to like clockwork, brutal and sharp at every buck of her hips. Your knees are aching, folded as they are, but the tight, coiling sensation within you overrides any and all discomfort, merely a quiet nagging in your brain; your focus is settled precisely on the angle of her cock and how her nails dig into your skin as you grind against each other. She’s close, too. You can feel it. It’s there in the shallowness of her breaths, in the urgency of her pelvis against yours, in the subtle arch of her back. You try to meet her where she’s at in your muddled state, pitching your hips backwards and down when she thrusts upwards––and you know it’s worked when she gasps and her hands scramble to lock together at the small of your back.

“Yes, that’s it darling. Just like that,” Larissa pants, using the leverage of her hold on you to help you fuck yourself. The only sounds permeating the room are that of your mingled breaths and her cock driving into you with a consistent, almost unforgiving rhythm. 

“Pleasepleaseplease, ohfuck––” 

“Y/N–––”

She tenses with you and cries out as your orgasms hit you both at once, ravaging you beyond reason. You’re hyper-aware of the way her breasts feel pressed against you, the way one of her hands flies up to bury itself in your hair as you ride her through your climax. Larissa’s hips stutter as she whines into your shoulder, sinking her teeth into you, and you marvel at the feeling of her muscles clenching around you, from the sinewy stretch of her arms to her thighs rested between your own.

Everything you’d hoped for. Fantasized about. Greedily deliberated again and again whilst watching her across the table in another fancy restaurant in another unfamiliar town.

Larissa is careful as she pulls out of you, slow and deliberate so as not to disturb the tenderness there. You remain curled on top of her but she doesn’t complain, rather rubbing your back in long, languid movements and whispering affirmations in you ear, a sweet mixture of ‘breathe darling, I’ve got you’ and more headily, ‘you did so well for me, you’re so good, you took me so well’. When you allow yourself to fall to the side of her, she shimmies out of the harness and tosses it somewhere off the edge of the bed, ignoring its clatter as she wraps you up in her arms. You burrow yourself further into her warmth and sigh at the feeling, content.

“Now is it my turn?” you ask, voice low and raked over with exhaustion. The belly laugh she gives is worth all the weariness in the world. “You’re incorrigible!”

[goddessfloresz]

Her Recovery p1.

ONESHOT ❦︎ (very) [OC] FemReader x Larissa Weems

°° Reader is named Florere Dulcie since I dislike using Y/N when writing. 😓

" 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚎. 𝚆𝚑𝚘 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍'𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚎'𝚜 𝚐𝚊𝚢? "

Being part of the Nevermore Family has unleashed something inside of you. The fear of being judged for expressing yourself was washed away once you had taken a step into the academy. For the first time in your life during your early-thirty's, you felt the freedom of expression you had ever so craved for. Being a professor means having the advantage of wearing anything that came into mind, of course it would need to be appropriate for teaching.

It took some time for you to adjust into Nevermore. The first week was quite a hassle since you already had a lot in your hands.. To moving in the teachers dorms, to organizing your class schedule, to designing your classroom, to decide what lessons you would be teaching for the curriculum, gosh there was too many to even decide! Welcome to the career you chose, I guess.. If only you weren't five foot two tall then you would've pursued modeling that kept calling out for your name. And here you are pursuing the job of teaching, to be able to at least inspire youngsters. But the main reason was.. you missed your daughter. You missed taking care of her, missing the presence of a child. In fact, you never thrown out a single picture of your daughter. Why couldn't you call your ex-husband if you're child-deprived? You couldn't, of course. You left your child's life without oh so suddenly.. and probably you were the villain in their eyes, so why would you bother to even try? Having this motherly instinct led you to Nevermore Academy to teach with passion. No wonder the students had immediately added you to their favorites list.

..Feeling as if Nevermore was your home.

You were plain, nothing special looked on you, you were 'normal' when you first set foot into Nevermore for the job interview. The observant principal took notice of how you drastically changed into this 'fashionista' that the staff and students had called you, because of basically how you had started to literally turn Nevermore into your fashion show. There was not a single day that you didn't capture anyone's attention..

There was just something about printed leopard clothing that set your heart ablaze, it was as if it was made just for you to wear. Especially the fur coats that you'd always love to wear during seasonal winters. Not to mention, you'd always have an eye for vintage fashion. You even made sure your hair had the style of Hedy Lamarr, an iconic Hollywood actress. It took almost six months of working in Nevermore to bring this celebrity or rather.. outcast out of you.

..And that made Larissa feel nothing more than proud of you because of your improvement.

Compliments never failed to make you flattered no matter how many times you've had received it from your students and faculty staff. It has been six months working under Nevermore, and it already feels like you know this place like the palm of your hand. This Academy was full of secrets waiting for their discovery and you were more than proud to figure out just that. But working for Nevermore also has its ups and downs.. For example; The murder of Rowan, one of the Academy's students. Gosh.. it never failed to give your skin goosebumps just from the thought of it. You were always late by the news of on-going happenings inside the school grounds, only being updated when your co-workers talk about certain topics. Plus, the fact that Wednesday Addams never failed to make the principal's blood boil.

Just as you thought everything chaotic was dying down, you were so wrong.

..Here you are, visiting Principal Weems's quarters in Jericho's Hospital for the third time in a week. Praying to the deities that she'll recover from the hell she just had experienced. If only that darn Marilyn Thornhill was caught earlier. You were worried like it was the end of the world when you had miraculously arrived just on time because of some rising voices inside the botany teacher's room. Greeted by the fact that the Principal's mouth was foaming, with her body fully paralyzed from whatever injected serum was stabbed on her.

If only.. if only you were not the type of woman who would shy away from their love interest. Then you would've spent more time with the apple of your eyes..

It as was if you regretted every single decision you made to avoid Larissa in any way because you simply had feelings for her. The whole semester was on pause because of this certain situation.. like how the whole academy stopped functioning for a certain while. Just as if you were sulking the fact of your awful decisions in life, blaming yourself in every possible way. You stopped on your tracks when the door to the principal's hospital room was half open. Taking a small peek before completely opening it, you couldn't believe your eyes that your co-workers had arrived and gathered before you.

Your eyes widen a bit when you heard a particular voice, none other than belonging to Principal Weems herself. Talking amongst the crowd almost sorroundings her bed.. Thank the heavens above for being able to hear your goddess's voice once again!

" Ah, Miss Florere, you've arrived just in time! " One of your co-workers welcomed your arrival with open arms. All heads turning unto you as you stood frozen still unto the door frame, including the head of a particular blonde. Your eyes immediately landing on eachother, taking note of her pale and natural look.. " You're more than welcome to come in, Miss 'Dulcie'. " The maiden name of your mother immediately snapped you back unto reality. You almost totally forgot that you had changed your complete identity when you decided to use your mother's maiden name than use the 'Gustavo' name. And gosh.. the way Larissa almost held you in chokehold by simply tapping her tongue to pronounce your name. This woman will surely be the death of you someday..

" Of course.. " you replied with a stutter as the blush on your cheeks grew and stepped a foot inside as you closed the door from behind. The atmosphere was comfortable and cheerful, despite the gloomy background still being there. But set that aside, everyone was here for the principal's quick recovery after all. It honestly surprised you because you almost saw her die before your eyes..

This certain situation made you feel at ease and relief now that Larissa's health has been stabilized.

Watching everyone talk comfortably to Principal Weems made you unable to contain that smile. Making your heart swell as you listened attentively on their conversations. " Regarding the second semester, please notify the students that it'll be postponed until further notice. We must prioritize the students mental health recovery from everything that has happened within the school grounds. " Her strong British accent quickly making anyone listen inside the room. Gosh.. this woman had just woken up from slumber and already thought about a strategy regarding the schools administrations? What is she even doing during her sleep, work? But not to mention, it was still pretty impressive. As expected from Principal Weems herself..

" Oh set the responsibilities aside, Principal Weems! Please.. focus on your recovery also. " A sentence that made almost everyone nodding their head, " Not to mention.. Miss Florere here got everything under control when you were gone. " Your co-worker said with a smile as all eyes were on you for the credits. You couldn't help but giggle slightly before replying, " Oh please.. Its not much of a big deal. I just made sure to send each of the student's parents some letter regarding the incident. Explaining everything they needed to know and give some reassurances on their child's education inside Nevermore Academy.. " You couldn't help but glance at Larissa who seems to have a pleasing smile and seeming to notice the way her tense body relaxed.

" Not to mention, Miss Florere here made sure to bring you some flowers everyday. "

" It's the least I could do.. " You couldn't help but mutter shyly as you lowered your gaze on all the credits you've received. Unknowingly that all of the little things were noticed by the staff and we're exposed to the Principal itself. Larissa couldn't help but grow her smile more, seemingly applauding you silently as you felt her gaze bore unto you. But her gaze quickly returned when conversations seem to spark again.. and there you were behind the crowd, flattered by all the credits you had received.

As time passes by, the nurse had came in the room to remind the dear visitors about the curfew regarding visiting hours. Which made that gloomy atmosphere somehow seep in upon the reminder.. It was honestly a hard thought that you would be leaving this woman all alone for the sake of recovery. After few more conversations, the staff had decided it would be best to leave earlier to avoid some scolding from the medical health workers. You were the last to leave.. making you stop on your tracks once again when you heard Larissa's voice from behind.

" Professor Dulcie.. for a moment? " The only woman who called you by your mother's maiden name.

" Yes? " You turned around, breath immediately hitching as you made eye contact with her beautiful blue orbs.

" Would you fetch me my laptop? And perhaps other things like.. anything that could cure my boredom during my recovery. Could you bring my items tomorrow evening? " Her voice ever so gentle and soft, making you almost immediately melt on the spot.

" Of course.. anything for you, Principal Weems. " The last sentence was totally unplanned, it came out of your mouth automatically. Was this the effect by being under her gaze?

In which, Larissa responded with a giggle. Making your eyes slightly widen from realization of what you had just said. Gosh you are more than exposing yourself! But my gosh.. her giggle was beautiful too, almost making you weak on your knees. You wished you could hear it everyday..

" I'll take note of that, Professor. " She replied with that pearly whites of hers.

That certain interaction replayed in your head, because you were sure that her reply had a hint of playfulness. Or where you just being delusional? But oh well.. this was it. The start of getting to know Larissa, and aim for establishing a friendship with her. After all that happened in a blink of an eye? That you almost lost the source of your heart beat? You were now firm with your decision to establish a friendship with the Principal of Nevermore Academy. Or possibly.. even more than friends.

In fact, you couldn't sleep last night. Larissa's reply kept ringing into your head like a bell.. it was the reason behind your sleepless night. You were certainly aware that you were acting like a complete teenager girl fan girling over some 'stupid' crush. But oh dearest Larissa was more than 'just a crush'. She was your muse, your goddess.. you are so in love. And you aren't denying it anymore.

You carefully gathered everything essential unto the desk of the principal. Her laptop, her documents, her notebook and pen, the clothes and hairpins she needed once she got fully healed, her hygiene kit, and.. her signature red lipstick? Of course, you thought that it would be better to bring it. Since you've barely seen her never wear the red lipstick, thinking that every woman has her comfort, and the red lipstick was exactly what you think Larissa needed. You couldn't help but feel something was missing.. but you were also sure you've gotten everything important. You shrugged that thought off immediately when you've checked every stuff needed, and packed it into this large leather bag of yours. You wouldn't be bothered if you left it into the possession of Larissa. As you said.. you would do anything for this woman.

•••

The Principal's face lit up once you've finally showed up into the hospital quarters.

" I've got everything. " You tried not show how nervous you actually were. Because you were unsure if you even got the essential things she requested and needed.

" Thank you so much, dear. " You couldn't help but blush at the pet name, as you basically helped set up the laptop on her bed desk. Seeming to notice that she was way more lively than usual.. it seems like she's recovering real well. Which made you unable to hide your smile at that thought, because that's exactly what you were wishing for.

As silence crept in, you hesitated for a moment to start a conversation as Larissa was now focused on turning on her laptop. Staring at her signature red lipstick inside the bag, you were practically fighting demons inside of you to make such a decision that took so much courage..

" I don't think the principal would survive without her red lipstick.. " You cracked a joke as you showed her, her signature red lipstick. Larissa couldn't help but raise a brow as she looked at you, but the moment she layed eyes on her lipstick she couldn't help but smile ear to ear.

" Hm? How did you know? " The blonde replied to your joke with a giggle, seeming to ride with your joke. You couldn't help but giggle in reply too, handing her the red lipstick as the blush on your cheeks grew.

" My dear professor.. I can't apply my lipstick without a without a mirror. " Larissa said as she opened her lipstick, her gaze running back to you. " Oh right! I think I got it..- Oh. " You immediately turned around to clutter inside the bag over nothing. So that's what you were missing, a mirror.

" I-I'm sorry, Principal Weems.. I don't think I have brought any- "

" Can you help me put it on? "

" ..What? "

" What I meant is.. May you please kindly help me apply the lipstick, Professor? "

𝙰/𝙽: Soo, this chapter is almost inspired by a fanfiction I've red in AO3, I've sadly forgotten the title and name of the author.. Hope you enjoyed this one! Honestly speaking; I discontinued this due to academics work load.. it was supposed to be a full available book in Wattpad. And I can't find the right time to do it sadly.

[dyingslowlysthings]

Little forest baby 🥺

[blankat]

4 times y/n is late

Larissa Weems x fem!reader

summary: 4 lil' stories (in chronological order) in which y/n is late in different situations.

warnings: fluff, mention of a shapeshifted penis(?)

a/n: i felt like sh!t so i wrote something lmao, also it's not proofread so excuse my mistakes lmao xx

“Fuck Larissa! I’m late!” you hurried out of your shared bedroom, putting on your clothes on the way to the kitchen to fetch some coffee before leaving. Larissa whined, still in your bed, tucked under the warmth of your fluffy blankets. “Hmm, late from where?” she groggily asked, voice just loud enough for you to hear from the kitchen. “From work! God, how did we sleep in?” You asked, rather yourself, than your girlfriend, pouring your coffee into a to-go cup, returning to the bedroom to Larissa. “Wish you could stay home instead. Call in sick, darling.” she grabbed your arm, pulling you down so you were laying on top of her, your faces incredibly close. She grinned and caressed your cheek, planting a little kiss to your nose. “Ha! Says the workaholic!” you laughed, “But seriously, Rissa. I need to go.” You kissed her softly, grabbing your phone, sliding it into your pocket. “Hurry back home, I’ll be so, so lonely without you here.” Larissa pouted and you laughed, letting go of her hand, standing up. “Promise, baby.” you whispered, leaving your girlfriend in the bedroom, heading to work. 

You were sitting in Larissa’s lap in her office, looking out the window, where you saw some Nevermore students with their phones placed against the wall, dancing in front of the device. “What are they even doing?” you furrowed your brows and Larissa just chuckled before squeezing your hands. “A TikTok.” said the headmistress simply.

“Say that again?” you got even more confused, looking at Larissa who couldn’t help but laugh a little again. “Don’t laugh at me, Woman! Elaborate. What is a TokTok? “No, not TokTok. They’re doing a TikTok. It’s a platform where people dance and lip sync to different songs. Or just upload short videos. It can be really fun.” Larissa said confidently, like she’s been on this platform for ages, and somehow you got even more confused. “Wait, do you use this platform? Tik Tok?” you raised your brows, and your girlfriend pulled out her phone, opening the application for you, where the first thing you saw was some guy telling tips on how to propose to your partner. Larissa quickly snatched her phone from your hand, closing the app, her cheeks red as a cherry. “Well, there are some trash videos as well, the algorithm is not working properly sometimes.” she said awkwardly, not even looking at you. “Well I hope you weren’t planning on proposing to me with the help of a TikTok, Larissa.” you grinned and she just raised her eyebrows at you. “Why would I propose to an asshole like you?” “Ouch, I was just trying to be funny, baby. Tell me, do you dance in front of your phone as well?” you smirked. “Hmm, sometimes. When you’re not home and I’m bored.” she smiled and kissed your neck, your eyes widened a bit at her revelation. “God, I am so late to these trends, I start to think I might be old.”

“Late, late, late! We are always late! Just fantastic!” you yelled while frantically packing your suitcase for your 2-week vacation with Larissa, the woman laughing at you from the doorway. “You are the one who doesn’t have their bags packed. Besides, we still have 2 hours until the train leaves.” she walked behind you, wrapping her arms around your waist. “Don’t stress so much, darling. It’ll make you lose your beautiful hair.” “I just want everything to be perfect. It’s been so long that we could enjoy some free time. Just the two of us.” you mumbled as you turned around in her arms, kissing her softly. “I know dearest, I know. But what matters is that we’re finally free. No work, no kids, no annoying colleagues, just us.” Larissa kissed you again, cupping your cheeks, smiling into the kiss. The only thing you need to do this summer is to enjoy Larissa’s presence and have her in all the possible ways you can.

By the time Larissa got home, you were incredibly close to a nervous breakdown on your bathroom floor, staring into nothing. “Darling? I’m home!” You heard Larissa yell for you. Normally, you would greet her with a tight hug and a lovely kiss but this time you weren’t, therefore Larissa knew something was up. “Y/N? Are you alright, baby?” She walked around your shared apartment looking for you. When she spotted you in the bathroom, sitting on the floor, she gave you a worried look. Looking around the room, she quickly realized you were sick, as she noticed the puke in your hair and in the toilet as well. “Y/N, are you sick? Where does it hurt?” She carefully sat down next to you, flushing the toilet and tying up your hair, running  a hand down your back to offer you some comfort. “Lar- Larissa?” you mumbled groggily, almost puking again from the taste in your mouth. “Yes, darling? It’s okay, let it out. Did you eat something bad?” your fiancée asked with worry in her voice. “N-no Larissa, I’m-” you swallowed, looking at her with teary eyes. “Shhh, It’s okay, I know you hate throwing up. I will clear out the fridge first thing tomorrow, to prevent you from eating anything bad again.

“No, Larissa, there’s no need fo-” “No, you just lay down, and I’ll do-” “Larissa I’m late.” you whispered, without the usual wrath in your voice. Larissa raised her eyebrows. “Late to what, darling?” she caressed your arm, not really understanding what you wanted to say. “No, I’m- My period. I was supposed to get my period 2 weeks ago.” your voice has never been this quiet. “W-what?” Larissa’s hand rested on your cheek, slowly caressing it while she tried to process the information. “I-uhm, do you rem-remember when we, we, uhm a few months ago you shape- uhm, shapeshifted-” you stuttered and felt like throwing up again. “Yes, yes I do. Have you taken any tests yet?” she asked softly, not releasing your cheek. “N-no, I wasn’t sure I could do it alone.” you said quietly, a silent tear running down your cheek. “Okay. Let’s get you cleaned up, and then we’ll take a few tests, okay baby?” Larissa was so gentle with you, you could cry.

After Larissa helped you shower, you brushed your teeth while she got a few pregnancy tests, handing you them and waiting at the other side of the door. After about 30 minutes, which felt like 3 hours, you opened the bathroom door. Larissa stood up immediately, rushing over to you, asking you silently. “Well, if these gadgets are trustworthy, we’re going to be mommies.” you smiled fondly at Larissa, tears streaming down your face. She immediately wrapped her arms around you, kissing all over your face, planting a final long kiss onto your lips. “Oh my darling, Y/N, I love you more than anything and I am so excited to begin this journey with you.”

[creative-caramel-coffee]

Hey lovely,

Back again from stalking your fics, and I wanna leave the paring up to you. Either wandanat xx or maybe platonic Larissa x r ?

But basically r is really sick, and that makes them clingy as hell. But they feel embarrassed and the pairing you choose, doesn’t know what to do but just babies them which results in r either calling larissa momma or if it’s wandanat confessing there love

~🕯️

A home in your heart

Pairings: Weems x R (platonic)

Word count: 1.8K

Summary: you get sick and yoko goes to fetch you some help.

TW: flu symptoms, fever, body aches, headache,

A/n this reminds me I need to renew my CPR qualifications lol (I think they expired already).

Waking up feeling awful wasn’t how you wanted to start your day off. Yoko had already left for classes based off the fact her bed was disheveled and empty. Her Pjs were on the floor, and she was nowhere in sight.

Rolling onto your side you heaved a groan at the aching pain in your muscles. There was no way you were making it to classes today. Your nose was running, your muscles aching and your head pounding. You were undeniably sick and defiantly miserable.

Pulling the blanket up over your eyes and wriggling further into the sheets you thanked whatever higher power listening that yoko hadn’t opened the windows today in her rush to leave. You peaked out of the sheets and through your blurry and squinted vision you were able to make out the time on the clock by your bed. Nine thirty, even if you were going to class today you were already running very late. Well, that settled that decision. You wriggled back into your cocoon and tried to fall asleep again.

The pervasive tiredness in your body made it rather easy. In no time at all you were fast asleep again, a thin sheen of sweat starting to form on your skin. Your hair was growing damp, and the sheets were making things worse. Still asleep you managed to flail around enough to toss the bedding to the floor and curl up into a ball. Your fever only worsening. You wanted someone to come save you from it all, but the idea of anyone seeing you like this was awful.

Your friends were great but more than anything you wanted an adult who cared. You missed the mothering you had used to receive at home when sick and now you missed it even more. The acts of kindness amidst the sickness always made you feel loved when you were most vulnerable. You turned over and cried into your pillow, dampening the sobs into the sheets. You were sick, lonely, vulnerable and embarrassed but most of all, you were sad.

When the seat next to yoko in her first two classes remained empty she began to grow more and more worried about her roommate. Sure, you were sleeping when she left but she had assumed you would still get up for classes on time. Looking at the clock again she only had a few minutes left of class and there was no sign of you. She made a decision; she would go to your dorm between classes and see if you were ok. If you were, she would drag you out of bed herself. If you weren’t well… she’d figure it out. She had a test in outcast history after lunch so if you were unwell she would defer your care to a teacher.

The end of class sounded as her classmates packed up and stood, she was quick to follow. Grabbing her stuff and hightailing it out of there she would need to be fast if she wanted to make it to her next class without being late.

She flew up the steps and through the halls until she reached her dorm. Opening the door, she first noticed it was still dark with the windows drawn. Surely you weren’t still asleep… right? Walking over to your bed she pulled off her sunglasses to get a better picture of what was going on. You were curled into a ball shivering slightly.

The young vampire frowned and rolled you onto your back. You were freakishly pale and sweaty. Yoko laid the back of her hand against your d forehead and sucked a breath between her fangs. You were far too hot for a human or just about any outcast. Even with her abnormally cold body temperature, vampire perks i guess, you were far warmer than she had ever felt you to be. Warmer than enid even and she ran at a wolfs temperature which was quite warm.

Yoko checked the clock and looked back at you again before moving to leave when a hand shot out and grabbed her wrist. Turning and looking back at the bed you looked up at her with half lidded eyes and a sad little watery frown that bordered on a pout.

“Stay.” You said in a gravely and hoarse voice.

“Shh babes I’m going to get you some real help.” Yoko said prying your clammy fingers from her wrist and setting your hand back down on the bed with a brief pat.

She whispered some more reassurances and encouraged you to go back to sleep for a bit before your eyes shut again and she slipped out.

Principal weems office wasn’t far and she would surely know who was spare to help. Rounding the corner, she knocked twice on the wood and waited for the invite to enter. Despite whatever corny myths about vampires not being able to enter without permission, she still waited for the invite. Not due to some obscene biological imperative but more because her mother had raised her right and to be polite.

The door opened and principal weems stood with one brow raised as she looked down at the vampire.

“Ms Tanaka what are you doing out of class?” She asked.

“Firstly, i need to know if any of the staff is available for the day, Y/n is sick, and I have a test i can't miss and she needs someone to stay with her. And second i kind of need a note in order to not get yelled at when I go back to class.” Yoko said and adjusted the sunglasses on her face with her thumb.

“Right well come in and i can write you that note. Meanwhile i have some time today off and i assume i can look after her myself. Most of the staff is in classes right now anyway and the nurse went to do refresher course on CPR to keep her qualifications up to date.” Weems said stepping aside and motioning for Yoko to follow.

Weems crossed the office and reached into her draw, pulling out a small purple notepad and pen she quickly wrote a note and tore it off to hand to yoko.

“You best return to class now and i will go check on Ms L/n.” Weems said before grabbing a first aid kit off the shelf in her office and moving to follow yoko outside.

The two said goodbye and yoko headed to class while the principal made haste to get to your dorm.

She knocked twice before deciding to enter. The room was still dark, but she could make out your form on the bed. Coming over she sat beside you and brushed the hair from your face. Your eyes cracked open, and you looked up at her through the haze of your fevered mind, eyes glossy and barely lucid.

“Hello darling.” Larissa said softly. “How are you feeling Y/n?” She asked and you let out a small whine.

“Everything hurts.” You whimpered and weems clicked her tongue and laid the back of her hand against your cheek before moving to feel your forehead.

“You're a bit warm darling. How about we check you for a fever?” She asked softly and moved to get the thermometer from the first aid kit. She pulled out the small stick and turned it on with a beep. She tapped your cheek with her thumb.

“Open.” She instructed and she carefully put it under your tongue, moving and closing your mouth by shutting your jaw with her finger on the underside of your chin.

“Now what else hurts sweetie?” She asked softly.

“My head.” It was hard to talk around the thermometer, but you managed, “And my whole-body aches.” You whispered not trusting your voice to talk normally.

“Alright once we have a temperature back on that thermometer, well get some medicine into you and then it’s time for another nap darling.” She spoke with nothing but care and concern in her tone.

At that moment the sick beeped and she gently took it from your lips and let out a discontent hum of concern.

“A little high sweetheart.” She said looking at the reading. “101.7 isn’t great now, is it?” She asked and you let out a sad hum of agreement and snuggled closer into her side.

The principal was mildly surprised at how affectionate you were being due to your usually stoic and slightly reserved nature. She ruffled your hair softly and smiled down at where you were resting your head on her arm.

“You're really not feeling good are you honey?” She asked and you let out a sad noise of genuine pain. “Alright, alright. Let’s get to work on making you feel a bit better, ok?” She asked and you nodded tersely. “Alright.” She chuckled.

Pulling out two paracetamol which were both fever reducers and pain killers she grabbed the waterbottle from your bedside smiling at the stickers on it. You had a ‘I <3 art’ sticker and a ‘support small artists’ sticker that she found particularly cute along with you own little paintings on the metal bottle. She also took note of the small Marvel stickers of wanda and Natasha.

She screwed off the lid and tenderly guided you by a hand on the back of your head to drink some water before giving you the medicine which you took without debate.

After that she rooted around in the first aid kit and found a stick-on fever patch. She broke it open and activated it before sticking it on your sweaty forehead. You let out a soft discontent mewl which bordered on a whine and larissa shushed you.

“Hush now darling this will help you feel a bit better, ok?” She asked and guided you back into the pillows. You curled up around her, now lying down on your bed properly and out a soft yes.

“Good. Now get some sleep. I’ll be right here doing some work ok?” She asked and thanked the gods she had the foresight to bring her laptop. She might have lied about it being her day off, but her students always came first. The board would just have to wait another day for that annual income, earnings and tax report for the end of financial year. She rested herself up against the headboard of the bed and you curled into her lap resting your head on the expanse of her thigh.

“G’night mama.” You said with a yawn and Larissa’s heart melted. You were so soft and innocent in that moment she never wanted it to end.

“Goodnight darling.” She drawled and stroked a hand through your hair as you fell asleep. Work could wait another few minutes, right now she just wanted to absorb the moment. After all she may never be a mother, but her students were giving her more than enough experience and emotions, that they might as well be her kids. And it was moments like these she remembered why she did it all. For the students who needed a home because they would always find one in her heart.

MASTERLIST

[ashecampos]

A silly little oneshot no one asked for

reader and yoko playing their music really loud in their dormitory, their dorm mom comes in curious of why the two delinquents are breaking the loud music rule again, she sees that they are dancing to a song and finds it adorable, because of this she leaves them to have a good time, a bit later Larissa Weems gets annoyed by the same song that had been played on repeat for an hour, so she goes to the source of the music, she then finds reader and yoko dancing and singing to the song.

Yoko : “YOU TAKE YOUR GIRL”

Y/n : “AND MULTIPLY HER BY FOUR”

both : “NOW A WHOLE LOTTA WOMAN NEEDS A WHOLE LOT MORE”

Yoko : “GET YOURSELF TO THE BUTTERFLY LOUNGE”

Y/n : “AND FIND YOURSELF A BIG LADYYY”

Thornhill and Weems now stand in the doorway watching the two teenagers dance and sing the song, Thornhill chuckles a little at the sight of it and Weems just stands there frozen.

——————————————————

I saw an edit of Weems with this song on tiktok and needed to write something about it because this song is just 🤌🏽

[alexander-23]

Just Rest Honey (I’m Here)

A/N: I wrote this because i used to have such bad days like this because of my insomnia and honestly didn’t get to properly rest until i got meds and was at such piece. I don’t know if anyone else needs it, but here it is. Enjoy!

Warning: None? Sleep deprived reader? Insomnia?

Word Count: 784

Other Tags: fluff, tooth rotting fluff, soft Larissa Weems

I’m sitting at my desk while students sit on their own. I’ve tried countless times to get them to stop shouting and pay attention, but with the festival coming up, they are all so rambunctious. I hold my head in my hands with a pounding migraine making its way behind my eyes. The pain is awful and the fluorescent lights are no help. As some students talk about the games they will play, the door to my classroom opens and in walks a fellow teacher and Larissa. They look at the state of the classroom until their eyes land on me. Larissa comes to stand beside me, placing her hand on my arm.

“Dear, come with me. Mr. Beliro will watch over your class”

I look up at her as I stand from my seat and am unable to gauge her mood, though with the state of my classroom, I can’t imagine she’s very happy with me. I follow behind her out of my room and I can hear Mr. Berilo taking control of the room. We walk in silence which only gives my mind time to think the worst case possible and run through what might happen. 

Will she yell at me? WILL I BE FIRED?! Oh god, I’m going to lose my job and Larissa will hate me!

I get so lost in thought, I don’t notice we are already approaching her office. I mindlessly follow her in, living in the worst case scenario. I feel her hands wrap around me and she guides me over to the couch she has by the fireplace and sits me down, but she doesn’t sit with me. Something warm and soft lays Over my shoulders and then Larissa is kneeling in front of me. 

“Dear, when was the last time you slept?”

All I see is the concern on her face with such soft eyes and eyebrows somewhat knitted together. I simply shrug instead of speaking and look down. Her delicate hands cup my cheeks and lift my gaze to look into my eyes, and the only thing I can do is let go of a sob. I’m so exhausted and I’d do anything for everything to go away. 

“Oh Y/N, honey,” she moves to sit beside me and pulls me into her arms, “I’ve got you darling, let it out”. I clutch to her as I cry, my tears staining her dress, but she doesn’t seem like she cares about that. She whispers encouraging words and rubs my back until my breathing evens out and my sobs become little whimpers. I feel so safe with her like nothing can hurt me, and all I want is to stay in this for a little while longer. Larissa pulls away slightly to look down at me, “why don’t we make you some tea to help you sleep?” I nod my head and let go, standing with her, and then she takes my hand. 

She leads me into her private quarters to the kitchenette and lets me lean against her. She insists I go rest, but I can’t help but feel I need to be with her. She leans against the counter and holds me in her arms, playing with my hair. It’s been a while since I felt this relaxed and cared for. Her nails lightly scratch against my scalp and her body heat envelopes me. 

“Someone seems comfortable” she lets out a little chuckle, however for me, it triggers my anxiety. I’m being too much, and I instinctively start to pull away. “Oh no no no dear, I'm sorry, I was only teasing. Come here little one” She opens her arms back to me, far too inviting for me not to shuffle my way back into her embrace. 

The kettle begins to whistle, but instead of letting go of my, she works with one hand pouring my cup. She adds sugar and stirs it before lifting it to hand to me. I sip on my tea as she continues to comfort me, whispering reassuring words. Only when I'm done with my tea does she guide me towards the bed. I honestly thought she would send me to my room, I mean, she's done more than anyone else already. She helps me take off my shoes and then covers me with the blankets and duvet before walking around the bed to climb in herself. She shimmies closer until she can wrap her arm around me. I turn in her arms until we are facing each other, a sleepy smile on my face. 

“Thank you” I whisper, the last thing I feel is her pulling me closer to her and a kiss placed on my forehead.

[brooooswriting]

I’ve decided that I’ll try writing for Wednesday so send requests:)

-Wednesday Addams

-Larissa Weems

-Jenna Ortega

[skylarinfinity]

*m/n walking to principal weems and give her the burger*

m/n: hello beautiful, i make this burger with love well mostly beef but also love :)

m/n again: and secret ingredient ;)

larissa:....

*later wednesday tap m/n shoulder*

m/n: can i help you?

wednesday: what the secret ingredient on those patty?

m/n: *sigh* it's a paper, i want to ask her out but she already ate the paper without realising it.

wednesday:....

tags: @sonicqaulan

[tiktoks-aphrodite]

Ok, hear me out:

Garrett Gates x Outcast Reader

He clearly wasn’t as prejudice as his family due to his obsession with Morticia. Yes, it could have been a ploy and scheme all along, but Garrett wouldn’t have diverted from his punch bowl plan if he hadn’t genuinely felt jealous of Gomez. He also looked petrified of his father in Wednesday’s vision. None of that excuses him, but I thought I would point it out.

So what if Garrett and outcast!reader fall in love during the time of Morticia and Gomez’s school years. It’s angst and fluffy and passionate. Young dumb love. Bittersweet possibly. Preferably a happy-enough ending.

If any of you lovely writers out there would be willing to do this (or feel inspired by this idea and want to do it) that would be great🖤🤍

[weemssapphic]

Hi there :)

I was wondering if you would be open to writing a Larissa x Reader fic where reader is dealing with vaginismus? I don't ever see it discussed.

The details can be up to you.

Thanks!

hello! i don't want to say i'm back but like... half, maybe 🥺 tbf I know who sent this request, it's been a while since we've talked about this but thank you!!! so much!!!

for anyone who is unfamiliar with vaginismus, it's a condition where the vaginal walls contract involuntarily when anything (a dildo, a penis, a tampon, a finger, medical instrument... etc...) is inserted into the vagina. this makes the vaginal canal very narrow and can cause significant pain and anxiety. i highly recommend doing more reading if you haven't heard of it.

s.e.x.

Larissa Weems x virgin!reader

words: ~5k | ao3 link in title

content/warnings: pwp/smut (minors dni pls), virgin!reader, vaginismus, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering

“Mmh… is this alright?” Larissa mumbles against your lips as her fingers toy with the button of your trousers, her other hand buried in your hair as she hovers over you in the center of her king-sized bed. 

You hum in affirmation, her breath hot against your lips as her tongue brushes against your own, drawing a deep moan from your chest. “You can take them off,” you murmur breathlessly, and Larissa smiles into the kiss as she swiftly undoes the button and drags the zipper down, her hand slipping into the open trousers and cupping your pussy. Her fingers press against the wet spot at the center of your underwear and her smile turns into a smirk.

“So wet,” she coos, the word sounding absolutely sinful as it drips from her lips and brings a fresh wave of arousal to your core, your underwear now absolutely soaked. Your head tips back against the pillows and you let out an involuntary whimper, your cheeks slowly but surely turning a lovely shade of pink at the embarrassment of being so deeply and utterly turned on simply from making out with Larissa.

The two of you have been seeing each other for a few weeks now and, while you’ve finally managed to wrap your head around the fact that she does, in fact, like you back, you still find yourself growing shy around the shapeshifter, your attraction to her somehow growing by the day. At first you’d been nervous to tell Larissa that you’ve never had sex before - but, as with all things, she took it in stride, assuring you that it didn’t matter to her and she’d let you set the pace. On the drive back to her apartment after dinner tonight, her hand on your thigh had prompted you to mention you think you’re ready, which prompted a heated makeout session against the back of Larissa’s front door that ended up leading straight to her bed.

Larissa’s fingers press down a little harder against your cunt, rubbing back and forth, before she retracts her hand from inside of your trousers and reaches for the waistband, giving it a gentle tug. You move your hips and help her to pull them down, kicking them off into a heap at the foot of the bed. 

Her hand lands on your lower belly, her pinky toying with the hem of your shirt as her lips leave yours and begin to trail along your jaw instead. Your skin feels like it could go up in flames at the slightest touch as Larissa’s hand slips beneath the fabric of your shirt and behind your back, fingers digging into your flesh as she holds you close and presses her torso against yours. 

Your back arches of its volition, your body burning with a need to get even closer to her, your fingers twisting in her updo as you let out an involuntary moan into her mouth. “Fuck, Riss…” you mumble as she gives your own hair a little tug, before she shifts slightly above you, straddling you and pinning you to the bed as her hand leaves your hair and falls to your hip. She soothes her palm up your torso, pushing your shirt up until her fingertips hit the underwire of your bra - she breaks the kiss and her gaze meets yours, and you’re certain you’ve never looked this aroused before in your life, and you nod as you realize that she’s silently asking for permission to take your shirt off.

Goosebumps rise on your skin as Larissa tugs your shirt over your head and tosses it carelessly aside, her eyes darkening as they roam your (almost) bare torso - it’s more of you than she’s ever seen, and she seems to be drinking it in intensely for a moment, before dropping her head to your chest and peppering open-mouthed kisses to the tops of your breasts that peek out from your bra, her hands soothing over your hips. 

Her lips feel heavenly on your tits but it’s not enough, and you reach behind your back as you arch off the bed to fumble with the clasp of your bra, which you quickly rid yourself of. Larissa looks up at you through her lashes, her lips curling into a pleased smile as she kisses her way to your right nipple, maintaining eye contact with you as she wraps her lips around the small pink bud.

It hardens almost instantly beneath her tongue, coaxing a moan from her throat that shoots straight to your core and makes you shiver in delight as your eyes fall shut. You can feel her fingertips start to toy with the waistband of your underwear and you lift your hips without thinking, silently encouraging Larissa to pull it down. You feel her pause, her tongue stilling against your nipple, so you mumble out a “please, Larissa…” that motivates her to continue, tugging your underwear as far down your legs as she can without releasing your nipple from between her lips - you reach down and bend your legs to tug them off the rest of the way.

Opening your eyes, you realize that Larissa is still very much clothed, and it makes you blush profusely, feeling slightly exposed even in the dim light of the lamp in the corner of the room. “Your turn,” you whisper hoarsely, tracing your fingertips over a crease in the sleeve of Larissa’s dress.

She hums and releases your nipple with a pop, sitting up and making quick work of her dress and stockings before straddling you again, now only in her bra and underwear. “That better, darling?” she purrs, a smirk playing on her lips as she reaches behind herself to undo the clasp of her bra. You nod absentmindedly, barely registering Larissa’s chuckle as your eyes are glued to her chest. She allows the burgundy cups to fall from her breasts, exposing pale, supple skin, her nipples slowly and visibly hardening against the slight chill in the bedroom.

You cannot help the way your gaze traces her body - her defined collarbones and strong, freckled shoulders, a contrast to the softness of her breasts and the slight swell of her stomach where it disappears into lacy underwear, plush thighs that bracket your own naked body. You swallow thickly even as your mouth goes dry, your mind racing to compute how you ended up with this goddess straddling you.

“You’re staring,” Larissa whispers, her voice gentler than before as it pulls you out of your reverie - your gaze snaps up to her face to see her looking down at you affectionately, her smirk having softened slightly.

“S-sorry, continue,” you mumble, feeling your face and chest grow hot - it makes Larissa chuckle, which only makes you blush more. “You’re beautiful,” you blurt out, and that makes Larissa blush, her smile turning shy for only a moment.

“Not quite as beautiful as you,” she counters as she leans back down, the smirk returning to her face and her blush fading rapidly - you’re about to protest when she sucks your pulse point between her lips and flicks her tongue across it, and it draws a moan from your throat as your mind goes blank.

As Larissa settles on top of you, one of her hands buries itself in your hair and the other finds your hip, her thumb caressing your hip bone before slowly traveling lower. You think you hear her mumble something like “so soft” as she moans breathily against your neck, but you’re too distracted by the way your skin feels like it’s on fire beneath her touch and the way her fingernails scratching at your scalp send a noticeable shiver down your spine - one that seems to spur Larissa on as she smiles against your skin and grazes her teeth over the bruise she’s just created, her fingers finding the patch of curls between your legs.

It brings a fresh wave of heat to your core, some of your arousal trickling out of you in anticipation, and you ease your hands in her hair, unsure of what else to do with them aside from fist at the sheets. Apparently this was the right move - as you give Larissa’s hair a tug, she moans and gives yours a tug in return. You can feel her smile against your skin, clearly enjoying herself as she marks your neck in hues of red and purple, and the thought of her enjoying herself just by pleasing you turns you on even more as you buck your hips impatiently, your clit throbbing with need.

A soft chuckle vibrates against the underside of your jaw and then Larissa’s fingers have found your clit and pressed down lightly, and the touch alone is nearly enough to make stars explode behind your eyes. “Fuck,” you moan breathily, and it makes Larissa chuckle again and raise her head to watch you as you tilt your own head backwards, your eyes scrunched shut. 

A smirk tugs at the corners of Larissa’s lips as her fingertips slide lower, dipping into the arousal gathered between your folds - and, fuck, does it feel heavenly, your breath catching in your throat as her lips find your neck again and kiss a slow, sensual trail up to your ear, matching the pace of her fingers exploring your cunt. Your hands slide from her hair to her shoulders, thumbs gently and absentmindedly caressing her collarbones in a subconscious effort to ground yourself and keep yourself from floating away.

As Larissa’s fingers circle your entrance, teasing the dripping hole, your stomach sinks a little. There’s one thing you haven’t mentioned to Larissa yet - it didn’t seem necessary when you weren’t having sex and now that you suddenly are, you’re not quite sure how to say it without ruining the mood. 

When you’d first broached the subject of masturbation with your friends, you quickly realized you were a bit different - whereas your peers shared recommendations for vibrators or, later, mentioned casually how big their boyfriends were, you could barely fit the tip of your own finger inside of yourself. When you did manage to push past it and go a bit deeper, it stung like hell, and no amount of lube or curling your finger against your supposed sweet spot made it any more pleasurable.

But maybe it’s different when it’s someone else, you think. Maybe it’s different when it’s Larissa; gorgeous, sexy, patient Larissa - because you’re more turned on than you ever have been, you’re absolutely drenched, and Larissa is being so sweet and so gentle. So, maybe, it won’t hurt if she does it. 

It does. 

You can tell as she slips the tip of her finger into your entrance that she’s not going to get very far, and your grip on her shoulders tightens just as much as your vaginal walls do, your stomach slowly but surely tying itself into a knot. 

“Breathe, darling,” Larissa coos. “Relax for me…” She thinks you’re just nervous, she doesn’t realize yet that it doesn’t feel good at all, and you don’t know how to tell her without ruining the mood so you bite your lip. 

“Is this alright?” Larissa’s voice is breathy with desire as she sinks her finger slowly into you, and you cling desperately to the hope that, the farther she gets, it will start to feel nice - you hope it will start to feel the way all your friends have described it to you, that the pain will give way to pleasure.

It doesn’t. 

It feels just the same as when you do it - like she’s scraping at your walls, like putting a tampon in dry, even though you know for a fact you’ve never been this wet in your life. 

Your walls are clenching around Larissa’s finger, though it’s not sexy, it’s painful, but how do you say something when she’s clearly enjoying herself? And what if she reacts the way most of your friends have done, with incredulous disbelief? What if she wants to stop entirely?

You’re so lost in your own mind that you don’t realize Larissa’s finger has stilled inside of you, no longer sinking further into you. She’s pulled back to watch your face again, your lack of verbal response to her question coupled with your fingernails digging painfully into her shoulder having quickly signaled to her that something isn’t quite right. The look on your face confirms it, your eyes screwed shut and your brow furrowed but not quite in bliss, and Larissa uses her free hand to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear and trace her fingertips along your cheekbone. 

“Darling? Are you alright?” 

Your eyes snap open and your stomach sinks further at the look of concern in the shapeshifter’s eyes, a pit forming at the idea of disappointing her. 

“Does this hurt?”

A beat. 

A moment where the world stands still and you feel your blood go cold as you struggle to articulate exactly what you’re feeling. 

You nod. 

“I’m going to pull out,” Larissa whispers instantly, her tone so soft and gentle that you can feel a film of tears forming over your eyes. You nod again and Larissa pulls her finger out of you as slowly as she can. The relief when your cunt is empty again is palpable, your grip on Larissa’s shoulders instantly loosening, and you watch in amazement, briefly distracted, as she sucks her finger between her lips to lick it clean as if it’s the most normal thing in the world, suppressing a little hum before adjusting her body against yours and cupping your cheek.

She rests her chin on your chest and looks up at you with big, sparkling blue eyes, eyes that shine with concern and affection in equal measure, her gaze so sincere that you have to look away for a moment and take a deep, steadying breath, bringing your hands to the back of Larissa’s neck to play with the stray blonde wisps at the base of her skull.

“S-sorry,” you mumble, your face suddenly feeling hot as a blush rises to your cheeks - you find yourself blinking rapidly to keep your tears at bay. 

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Larissa says softly, her thumb stroking back and forth across your cheekbone as her brow creases. “What happened?”

“I-it just doesn’t feel g-good, I guess��” you mumble, taking another deep breath as you think for a moment how you’d like to word what you have to say. Larissa can tell you’re thinking hard and she waits patiently - you can feel the subtle rise and fall of her chest against your body, her thumb on your cheekbone and her other hand resting on your shoulder, rubbing tenderly at your skin. “It… just kind of hurts… penetration, I mean… I have vaginismus, so I’ve never even really been able to use tampons or anything, either…”

Understanding floods Larissa’s features at your mention of vaginismus and she nods gently against your chest, waiting for you to continue - you don’t, you don’t really know what else to say.

“Does it hurt when you touch yourself, too?” she asks curiously, breaking the silence that, at least for you, has become somewhat uncomfortable.

“Yeah… I’ve never understood why people like it so much, or how it’s supposed to feel good.”

Larissa smiles softly at that. “Well, what feels good to you?”

You feel the heat of your darkening blush as you, once again, grapple for the right words, vulnerability flooding your veins as you lay yourself bare for Larissa. “A-anything on the outside, I guess… like touching my clit…”

As you speak, Larissa starts to slide the hand that was on your cheek down your body, fingertips lightly caressing the side of your breast, the dip of your waist, the curve of your hip, until they’ve reached your venus mound. “Does this feel good?” she husks, her fingertips grazing over your clit in a circle, just as before, her gaze staying trained on your face.

The gasp you let out as your hands slide back into Larissa’s updo tells her all she needs to know - a smirk tugs at the corners of Larissa’s lips as you give her hair a pull, and she applies a bit more pressure to your clit, watching as your eyes fall shut and your head lolls back against the pillow, your back arching off the bed. 

“Will you tell me if you want to stop?” she asks softly, her voice an octave lower than before.

“Y-yes - I-I mean, I d-don’t wanna stop,” you murmur, a wave of pleasure washing over you as her fingers slide between your folds again. This time, they only ghost over your entrance, enough to gather your arousal on her fingertips and smear it across your clit as she starts to massage the bundle of nerves. 

Her lips find your sternum and she lets out a deep hum that vibrates against your skin as she kisses her way down the valley between your breasts, down your stomach, leaving a trail of goosebumps in her wake. It’s not until her free hand comes to rest on your thigh that you open your eyes and look down at Larissa, the sight of the blonde between your legs drawing a moan from your chest.

“Spread your legs a bit for me,” she purrs, smirking when you immediately do as you’re told. “Good girl.”

Your stomach flips and you grind your hips a little harder against Larissa’s fingers, the coil behind your navel beginning to tighten as she praises you. 

“Tell me if this doesn’t feel good,” she whispers, pressing her lips to your inner thigh and gently nipping and sucking at the soft flesh, her hooded eyes never leaving your own. She removes her fingers from your clit and the whine that escapes your throat at the loss makes you blush - you don’t have time to be embarrassed, however, as her fingers are replaced with her lips wrapping around your clit. 

Larissa’s eyelids flutter shut, a deep, guttural moan vibrating against your cunt as she starts to suck your clit - the feeling is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. Your hands curl into fists in her hair, your body tensing, and Larissa wraps her arms securely around your thighs, her own hands rubbing your skin in a soothing manner.

“Relax, darling, I’ve got you,” she coos breathlessly, before licking a path up your slit, exploring your folds with her tongue. It dips into your entrance only the tiniest bit, then finds its way back to your clit to stimulate the throbbing bud with little kitten licks. The deep breath you take comes back out as a moan, and you try to do as you’re told and let Larissa pleasure you without getting in your head about it. 

It’s hard at first but you slowly start to relax, your trust in Larissa growing with every flick of her tongue as your mind empties itself of doubt - there’s not a trace of pain, only overwhelming, earth-shattering pleasure, and what little embarrassment was left inside of you has long since evaporated into thin air as your orgasm looms ever closer.

Larissa can tell you’re getting close by the way your thighs are beginning to shake in her hold, your hips bucking wantonly against her face as you become a little bolder, trying to take control and fuck yourself on her tongue. She can’t help but smile a bit, moaning a little louder than before for your benefit and enjoying the way it has your eyes rolling back in your head.

“F-fffuck, Riss, th-think ‘m g-gonna cum…” you moan, unaware of how you’re subconsciously pushing Larissa’s head down and how your thighs are threatening to snap shut around her ears. You cum with another flick of Larissa’s tongue, your jaw falling slack to let out a moan that sounds so pornographic that you can’t quite believe it’s come out of your own mouth.

You feel like you’re floating, and it feels so good that you don’t realize that one of Larissa’s arms has left your thigh until she moans as well and you look down to see Larissa writhing against the bed - one hand clearly stuck in her underwear as she masturbates to the sound, the feeling, the sight of you coming undone on her tongue.

Blown pupils meet your own beneath mascara-coated lashes, Larissa looking hungrily up at you from between your legs, her lips still wrapped around your clit, and you can feel her smirk grow against your cunt as she bucks her own hips against her hand. Her gaze never wavers, though her eyelashes do flutter a bit as she works herself to the edge - her fingernails dig almost painfully into your thigh and her breathing becomes slow and shallow as her body begins to tremble.

“Fuck, Larissa,” you moan - with Larissa now cumming all over her own fingers, the need to touch her has become overwhelming, and you tug insistently at her hair, relaxing your thighs so that they’re no longer flush against Larissa’s ears. She releases your clit and pulls her hand out of her underwear, pushing herself up on all fours and crawling up your body until she’s resting beside you. She goes to cup your cheek and you turn your head, taking her fingers into your mouth. 

Larissa’s pupils dilate further as she watches you suck her arousal off her fingers, your cheeks hollowing out and your eyes fluttering shut as your tongue teases the seam of her fingers - she tastes so fucking good that you can’t help but moan, your cunt clenching and your hands seeking out Larissa’s waist to pull her closer, one hand sliding down her hip and tugging at her thigh to encourage her to hook it over your own. 

You release her fingers with a pop and open your eyes to find Larissa swallowing thickly, her lips parting and her tongue darting out to wet them - her gaze has fallen to your own lips and it gives you the encouragement you need to kiss her.

“Wanna make you feel good, too,” you mumble against her lips, drawing a moan from her chest as she deepens the kiss. She licks into your mouth, full of enthusiasm and need, her hands tangling in your hair and her nails gently raking along your scalp.

Taking the lead, Larissa starts to rock her hips - her underwear is soaked and it makes your skin prickle with heat where her cunt rubs against your thigh. Your hand slides up to her hip, just feeling it roll sensually beneath your palm for a moment, before you slip your fingers beneath the waistband of her underwear and give it a tug. Larissa helps you, moving her hips and placing her hand atop yours as you slide it down as far as it’ll go - she breaks the kiss as she kicks it off the rest of the way, then cups your cheek and crashes her lips against yours once more.

“Touch me,” Larissa sighs as she deepens the kiss, grinding her clit against your thigh, spreading her slick across your skin - you don’t need to be told twice, twisting in her arms to get just enough distance between the two of you so that you can trail your fingertips down her stomach. 

Touching Larissa feels like a heavenly privilege - her abdomen rippling beneath your touch, the soft patch of curls on her venus mound, her hands sliding into your hair, long fingers twisting and holding you in place as her soft, velvety tongue brushes against your own. You slip your hand between her legs, swiping two fingers up her slit - they glide effortlessly towards her clit with how aroused she is, her slick silky against your fingertips as you trace a circle around her clit and revel in the way Larissa’s hips twitch at the contact, the way her breath hitches against your lips.

Your other hand slides up Larissa’s waist, tracing the underside of her breast before cupping it and giving it a gentle squeeze - Larissa arches into your touch with a sound halfway between a sigh and a moan, her lips curling into a smile against yours.

“F-ffeels g-good,” she murmurs. “K-keep going…” 

You take your time circling her clit and exploring her folds, and it’s making your own arousal reach new heights as you feel how Larissa responds to your touch. Every time your fingers trace around her entrance Larissa’s hips buck harder against your hand - your breath is shallow with anticipation as you decide to slip one finger inside of her, and then you stop breathing entirely for a moment as you feel Larissa’s walls, warm and wet and unbelievably soft, clench around you.

“Fuck…” you breathe out, pulling away from the kiss for just a moment to regain your breath. Larissa’s breathing is just as ragged as your own and, as you meet her gaze, you see just how desperately turned on she is. “C-can I add another finger?” you stutter out, and it makes Larissa chuckle a little as she nods and rocks her hips.

You add a second finger and her walls clench again - it’s a bit of a tighter fit and it has your own walls clenching in tandem with hers as you sink your fingers as deep inside of her as you can, watching her face carefully for any sign of pain, or any sign you’re doing something wrong. You’re only met with pleasure and bliss, however, Larissa’s lips parting as her head tips back a bit and her eyelashes flutter as she fights to keep her eyes on yours.

You might not enjoy penetration but it’s clear Larissa does - her hips grind in time with each pump of your fingers, her grip in your hair tightening as her body tenses and arches with each ministration. You’ve added your thumb to the mix, lightly massaging her swollen clit as your other hand fondles her chest, pinching and pulling at her nipple and squeezing the soft, supple flesh. 

Larissa’s moans pick up in volume as you pick up your pace, a string of soft, breathy ‘ah, ah, ah’s falling from her lips. Her eyes flutter shut and her brow creases as her cunt clenches particularly hard around your fingers, and you can feel by the way her thighs have begun to tremble that she’s close. You’re unable to kiss her properly as her jaw keeps falling a little slack, so you press your lips to her neck and start to suck and nibble at her pulse point, hoping to tip her over the edge.

“Mmmh… c-can you add another?” 

Larissa’s mumbled words confuse you for a moment and you’re about to hum in question against her neck when understanding floods your system - you push in a third finger with your next thrust, feeling Larissa stretch around you, and her moans go from soft and breathy to deep and guttural as her hips stutter.

It only takes a few more pumps of your fingers to send her over the edge, her hands tugging painfully at your hair as her arousal coats your fingers, the knot behind her navel snapping and sending her into orbit. You can feel her chest heave beneath your hand as she arches her back, her head lolling back against the pillow and offering you better access to her neck as her hips lose their rhythm entirely and her entire body tenses beneath you. 

You continue to fuck her through her high, until her body starts to relax and sink into the mattress, her cunt now merely twitching with the aftershocks of her orgasm. Your hand leaves her breast to thread itself into her hair and your thumb stills against her clit as you stop pumping your fingers. Her own hands loosen their grip in your hair, just resting against your head as she holds you in place to take deep, steadying breaths. 

“Is it okay if I pull out?” you whisper between soft, lazy kisses to Larissa’s neck, and you wait for her nod before you gently remove your fingers from her cunt. Larissa’s hand searches blindly for your wrist, lifting it gingerly, and you raise your head to watch as she wraps her lips around your fingers and sucks, humming softly. 

She looks so goddamn ethereal, her face flushed, her forehead slicked with sweat that her little platinum curls are sticking to, her brow fully relaxed, only a shadow of a crease visible. When she opens her eyes to meet your gaze, she releases your fingers from between her lips and smiles, pushing herself up slightly on the bed and wrapping her arms around you to pull you on top of her. 

“How are you feeling, darling?” she whispers, her voice slightly hoarse, and you bite your lip as you curl into her. 

“Really good,” you mumble. “I should be asking you that…”

Larissa chuckles. “So ask me.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Really good,” she repeats, her voice teasing - but the sparkle in her eyes as she looks down at you confirms her words, and it makes you blush. 

Larissa’s fingertips dance along your spine for a bit - it grounds you, making you feel safer and more loved than you ever have in your life. Her lips pepper tender kisses to every inch of skin that she can reach, and her legs intertwine themselves with yours in an effort to hold you close.

“You know, darling, penetration isn’t everything,” she whispers after a while. “There are so many things we can do that don’t involve penetration at all…” Larissa’s tone is suggestive and a fresh wave of arousal pools in your core at her words, all sorts of sinful ideas running through your mind.

“Yeah?” you croak out, your voice betraying your growing desire. “Why don’t you show me then?”

You look up just in time to catch the widening of Larissa’s pupils as she smirks down at you, and her hand starts to make its way down your hip, giving your thigh a tug. “I just might…”

x

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A/N: I'm always here (even if I'm not posting) to talk about vaginismus and anything else of that nature 🤍 much love and thank you for reading 🤍

[wasjustred]

Winter Weather Warning - NSFW Larissa Weems x f!Reader

Summary: A blizzard comes barreling through the area and you find yourself stranded———in Larissa’s quarters.

Pairing(s): Larissa Weems x femprof!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, smut – fingering and cunnilingus (reader receiving); Larissa gets an orgasm

Word Count: ~6.3k (oops)

Author’s Note: Whaaat? A fic? From me? Finally?? I hope this was worth the wait! Thanks to all you lovely folk who’ve been so patient with me; there’s been a lot going on in my life so I’m very appreciative of you all. Feedback, as always, is welcome and encouraged! ♡ ﹠. a special thank you to my beta readers @sapphicsbeloved and @zephyr-is-tired ——— sending you many kisses and finger waggles for your help! 😙🥰 ╱ AO3

You try not to begrudge the snow for falling when and where it will. It’s pretty, you have to admit: soft, and flurried, sweeping over the stone grounds of Nevermore without prejudice. You peer out from your window and watch scattered groups of students chase after each other gleefully, faces turned up toward the sky like small purple sunflowers in their school uniforms, arms outstretched and reaching. The low angle of the sun against the trees suggests dusk will fall soon, just enough light still to cast long, excitable shadows across the ground.

A smile prods at your lips as you turn away from the window and further into your classroom with the intention of setting up for your last class of the day. You’d originally planned to guide them through a review period for an exam next week, but with the state of the sky and the weekend finally here, you decide a film might instead be just what everyone needs; you can afford to push the exam back another day, and really, they’ll be gunning for extra time where they can get it anyway. You know your students well enough.

When the kids begin filing in, you delegate tasks without explanation, the room abuzz as you instruct one student to close the blinds and a few others to adjust the desks just so. You catch a glimpse of the world down below before the windows cover up: Steady flurries still, but nothing that worries you. The kids’ thrill at spending the period in relaxation when you reveal your plan to them is enough to distract from any further thoughts on the weather, anyhow.

The hour passes swiftly as you sit in the back grading papers, every so often glancing up to take stock of the room. Everyone files out just as fast at the sound of the bell and calls out wishes for a good weekend while you’re left to rearrange the room back into its original state. You take care of the desks first, pack your own items up, decide to leave the windows for Monday since it’s dark out by now, no longer any ribbons of light sneaking through the cracks where the blinds don’t quite meet glass. A nice bottle of wine, a fire, maybe a few candles and a good book… the night is promising, and you run through a mental checklist of how many comfort items and practices you can employ as you wander down to the front entrance, bundled up tightly in your coat to brave the cold.

But when you reach the landing of the long staircase, the sight that greets you is not promising in the slightest: the outer floodlights cast a muted glow over what had been a harmless shower of snow, now furious gusts of heavy flakes collecting faster than your brain can entertain. There has to be at least a couple inches out there already, and the realization that you’ll have to navigate through the winding, hilly roads of Vermont in the middle of this elicits a groan. The treeline is hardly visible amidst the dark and the snow, and the roads are likely no better off: the town tends to skirt right around Nevermore when salting the streets. This drive’ll be a perilous one at best.

“Absolutely not.” The sound of Larissa’s disapproval startles you into a sharp and over-dramatic gasp, every muscle of yours tensing at once when her voice comes from just behind you. 

“Jesus, you scared me! ‘Absolutely not’ what?” You turn to her with features marred by confusion - once the surprise has melted away - and tilt your head up, taking a small step back to balance yourself when you realize how close she is. She looms over you in a way only she can: regal and overwhelming–––yet cordial all the same, offset by the soft floralness of her perfume. The fact that she’d reached you there without a sound would likely be unsettling if it were anyone else. With her it’s just… attractive, the slyness of it all. The mischievous grin she bares in response to how you jump doesn’t help.

“There is absolutely no chance I’m letting you drive in that.” This elicits an incredulous scoff as you peer up at her, arms lifting at your sides like a pair of very exasperated, very amused wings.

“Letting me? What am I supposed to do? Break my back sleeping on the floor of the library? No thanks.”

“Don’t be silly,” Larissa tsks, pressing her lips together in an all too familiar demonstration of thought. She’s quick with her next words, though, and something tells you there wasn’t much thought to be given at all. “You’ll stay with me.”

The firmness with which she says this, the matter-of-fact tone that has always so easily slid off her tongue, leaves no room for discussion. You gape at her but Larissa’s already swiveling on her heel and walking in the direction of her office as though it’s been decided once and for all, no questions asked. She throws a crooked finger over her shoulder and gestures for you to follow, the sound of her heels now echoing through the mostly-empty halls.

You wonder, frivolously, how in the hell you didn’t hear her the first time around.

You rush after her with quick steps in an effort to keep up; Larissa’s long, unhesitating strides carry her farther and faster than you can move without some effort. The view of her backside, however, is not one that merits complaint. You follow the curve of it up until you come upon a landing you’re not familiar with, nearly knocking into Larissa when she halts abruptly and turns towards you for the first time since this little journey began. She looks almost unsure of herself now, eyes flitting about rather than meeting yours. It’s one thing, you know, to flirt in passing; to brush arms when you’re both chaperoning students in Jericho; to trade amused, knowing glances across faculty meetings. But it’s another to invite you into her sanctuary, a decisive and loaded crossing of one of the last lines between the two of you.

“If you’d prefer, I believe there’s an empty dorm room I can have made up for you. It’d be no problem.” She finally looks down at you long enough for you to read what’s going on behind that mask of hers, typically pristine and perhaps a touch righteous: she’s trying to give you an out, trying to relinquish control for a second before she commandeers your night, and she’s worried she’s already gone too far by bringing you up here in the first place.

But you’re not going to say no to a night at Larissa’s side, especially when the potential for a warm fire and a glass of wine or two is so high.

Especially when it’s her asking.

“No, it’s alright. Unless you’ve changed your mind?”

“Not at all,” she’s quick to blurt out, shaking her head. “I simply wanted to make sure you knew you had the option, that’s all.”

With that, Larissa turns again and begins the ascent to what you assume is her hall–––until you’ve reached another landing with only one door, and she pushes it open to reveal an entire apartment all her own. It’s very her, this place: Warm, shining, elegant. The living room is awash with low, simmering lights, furnished with a mix of dark leather and velour, a towering bookcase taking up the whole of one of the far walls with an accompanying reading nook. She walks you further into the threshold and eases the door closed behind you, hovering silently as you take the space in. There are a few framed art pieces that you promise yourself you’ll review more thoroughly later on, scattered vases of flowers and various, high-hanging mirrors.

What truly draws your attention, however, are the photos strategically lining the walls, clearly taken at various points in Larissa’s life: A small platinum-blonde girl carefully posed before a Christmas tree with two very proper looking hounds on either side of her, all very regal and staged except for the wide, nose-crinkling grin on the girl’s face; a beach trip with the same girl, slightly older now, arm thrown over her face as she squints against the sun and into the camera - and a pair of kids that look to be around her age chase each other in the background; teenage Larissa suited up and on horseback, smiling proudly as a judge strings a blue ribbon around the horse’s halter; graduation photos from Nevermore; a trip to the Scottish Highlands, it looks like, a twenty-something Larissa soaked to the bone but grinning out at the miles and miles of luscious greens like she couldn’t be bothered less by the weather. It’s the most you’ve ever seen of her.

Eventually Larissa brushes behind you, laying a hand at your waist in passing as she toes off her heels and begins the process of lighting the fireplace.

Her touch leaves an emphatic tingle in its wake.

“I didn’t think my wall was that particularly exciting,” she muses, glancing over her shoulder at you. You duck your head and turn from the wall, following her lead as you slip out of your shoes and place them next to her own.

“I always like to see what people were like before I knew them. It’s intimate.” Larissa’s gaze softens almost imperceptibly before she returns her attention to the fire, adjusting the logs one last time and replacing the latch on the brass screen.

“What do they tell you, those pictures?” She wipes her hands and comes to rest against the edge of a couch, gazing at you as you shift on your feet and consider her question. Her eyes remain soft, but there’s something else lurking there behind the blue now: Curiosity? Interest? Desire, even? You can’t read it for sure, so you clear your throat and move back to the photographs on her wall, crossing your arms over yourself.

“Well, .. this one,” you start, gesturing towards the Christmas tree, “screams rich.” Larissa snorts loudly and tilts her head in a way that says you’re not wrong. “Probably an only child - at least at the time, otherwise there’d be other kids with you.” Her smile gives nothing away this time, but you charge ahead, brushing your fingers against the frame that holds the beach between its borders.

“This isn’t an American beach, that much I know.” You choose not to elaborate, allowing your ‘Americanness’ to speak for itself. “But I can’t tell if you grew up going there or if it was a special vacation, maybe visiting family… ?” you trail off as your gaze drifts over to her questioningly. She just shrugs, and you click your teeth in mock disapproval before moving on.

“You look happy here,” you observe, allowing your hand to drift over the photo of Larissa in her English riding gear. “Unforced. You enjoyed competing, maybe preferred your horse to people.” This one might be an unfair deduction, supplemented by your understanding of how cruel kids can be–––especially to an outcast, especially to a 6’3” girl.

“The Duke,” Larissa pitches in, pushing up off the couch’s back to join just behind your shoulder, gazing over at the photo in question. “My mother hated the name, but I insisted. He was a gift for my fifteenth birthday,” she reminisces, breath coursing over the tip of your ear. You peer up at her as she smiles, something sad and regretful there before she sucks in a deep breath and points out a new photo to you, more recent by the looks of it: Larissa stands with a large group of students in their Nevermore uniforms, mid-laugh as one of the kids waves his hands wildly and another has their mouth agape in what looks to be protest. Her eyes are crinkled - genuine - and one of her hands seems to be in the process of making its way up to cover her mouth, the other mindlessly resting at her midsection. You know that laugh. It’s her most uninhibited, her most authentic, which only comes out when she’s caught completely off-guard. Your favorite, if you’re honest.

“My first class of students as principal of Nevermore,” Larissa offers, scrunching her nose happily at the memory.

“What’d he say? That student?” You’re part genuine curiosity and part selfishness: eager to know what made her laugh like that, and how you can take hold of that kid’s humor and use it for yourself, elicit a look like that, a laugh like that, which so rarely comes about during school hours.

“I wish I could remember,” she murmurs, taking one last look before clasping her hands together and shocking you out of the reverie. “But nevermind all that. Have you eaten dinner yet?”

You nod sheepishly, nearly apologetic knowing she likely hasn’t and is looking to be a good hostess. But she merely nods, looking relieved: “Oh good, I can’t be bothered to cook tonight,” Larissa admits, a teasing grin stretching from ear to ear. 

“Let me show you where everything is, then.” She guides you down the hall and nudges one of the doors open, gesturing with an open palm. “Here’s the bathroom. Extra amenities are in the second drawer there, towels in the closet.” The suite is nicer than any bathroom you’ve ever had, really the stuff of luxury hotels: white marble floors, a deep soaking tub, gold knobs and handles on almost every appliance. You’ve no choice but to forcefully shoo away the startling, indecent imaginings that break through your reserves of Larissa sinking deep into the lush bubbles of the tub, skin glistening, chest bare––––

“Heated floors, too. I never go cold in the winters.” Ever humble, Larissa pulls at your shoulder gently and switches the light off, directing you to another door just diagonal of the bathroom. When she swings the door open, you’re embarrassingly aware of the way your jaw drops.

“Bedroom’s this way,” she says, stepping into the space. It’s gorgeous, swooping drapes of dark ruby and gold, satin bedding that pools over the mattress and onto the floor, puddles of fabric against a thick persian rug. There’s another fireplace opposite the bed, an area farther off with another scaling bookcase and two large, well-worn armchairs, a small number of intricately designed table and floor lamps, a matching vanity and armoire, the former of which is careful, lived-in chaos with its scattered tubes of lipstick and skin care tinctures.

It’s Larissa.

“Wow,” you breathe, meeting her amused gaze. “You never mentioned you live like this. I would’ve taken you up on a sleepover much sooner if I’d known.” Larissa flushes and coughs out a coy laugh, smoothing a hand over her hair as she looks out across the room.

“Yes, well. You’re here now.” She reaches out and lifts your handbag from you, pulling at your coat lapel next to signal you should take it off. Once you do, Larissa hangs it along one of the walls and places your bag on her vanity. Busy work. “I have clothes you can borrow of course, though they may be a bit big. I’ll set them out, although,” she pauses, glancing at her bedside clock, “it’s early still… Up for a movie? Glass of wine?”

You’re almost - almost - embarrassed by the unrestrained nodding of your head, but hell, it’s been a long week, and relaxing with a bottle of wine sounds like the perfect reward for making it through without breaking down [in front of your students]. The fact that it’s Larissa’s personal wine, in her personal quarters, in her personal hands does nothing to lessen the appeal.

The question of where Larissa will sleep, if showing you the bedroom was her way of offering it to you, hangs in your head, but you decide the answer can wait until the time for sleep comes around. By no means are you going to allow Larissa to banish herself to the couch in her own home. You’d sooner take the floor–––even if you’d jokingly complained about that very same concept earlier in the hour.

“Do you have a preferred genre?” She asks as you both return to the living room, you perching on the sofa as she disappears into what you assume is the kitchen to fetch the wine. It’s not normally a loaded question, nor one worth considering too deeply, but you realize you have an opportunity here… and if Larissa’s occasional blushes, her soft gaze, mean what you hope they do, perhaps there’s a strategy to be employed. You shift further into the cushions, absentmindedly running a hand over your clavicle in thought.

“Don’t laugh… but I’m a sucker for romance when the weather’s like this,” you call out. Larissa peeks her head out from around the corner, brows furrowed in funny disbelief.

“Really?”

“Wha–– why is that so hard to believe?!”

“It’s not, I just.. wasn’t expecting it, I suppose. You seem more of the action or thriller type.” She shrugs and disappears again without further explanation, leaving you to half-pout half-ponder at her words. Before you can make an argument in your defense, however, she’s returning with two full glasses, bottle tucked under her arm, and dimming the lights, a practiced look of concentration slanted across her features as she makes her way over to the couch and lowers one of the glasses into your waiting hand. The red sloshes up just near the edge when Larissa hands it off, and you half-jokingly prod at her as your brows shoot up in amusement.

“Are you trying to get me drunk, Principal Weems?” She tuts with faux indignation, but the growing flush of her cheeks betrays her.

“I wouldn’t dare.” She settles next to you - still a respectable distance for colleagues, but closer than mere acquaintances - and places the uncorked bottle on the table ahead of you, grinning.

“Romance it is, but I pick.” You ‘d be surprised by her demand if you didn’t know Larissa’s need to be in control at all times. In fact, if anything surprises you, it’s her calmness in the face of this turbulent weather–––perhaps the most uncontrollable variable there is. Even the most headstrong people can be manipulated, but not the sky.

The film she chooses isn’t one you’ve seen before, which excites you, and you both sink into the couch with a comfortable silence. You share little notes back and forth on the revolving plots and chuckle at the occasional joke, however cliché, as the movie rolls, finding an easy rhythm you’ve never before been able to appreciate amidst the chaos of classes and faculty meetings. 

It’s about an hour in, having finished your first glass and poured another for yourself and Larissa, that you make the mistake of peering over at her from the corner of your eye. A particularly sappy scene is playing out before you. The TV’s light flickers softly against her face, which is content and dare you say tender as the two protagonists share a moment together. The stumble before the fall. Her forehead creases and you have the sudden urge to kiss the lines away, warmed by the wine and her beauty.

“Stop looking at me like that,” she whispers hoarsely, though her eyes never leave the screen. 

Your heart jolts when she catches you out, running hot with guilt. Your legs shift beneath you as you move to scoot a few inches away - to give her space from your leering gaze - but you freeze when you feel her hand on your knee, holding you in place. You watch her for any sign that’ll tell you what’s going through her head but she doesn’t budge further, only loosening her hold on you a fraction when you relax against the cushions again. Your heart is beating hard at the door of your ribs as you tilt your head back towards the movie, far too distracted to actually process anything that’s happening. The air is so thick now your lungs can hardly keep up; it’s a dizzying thing, electric, and your thoughts jumble haphazardly as you wonder whether or not Larissa’s feeling it, too.

You risk a peek at her again–––but Larissa is already looking at you. 

Her chest is heaving, albeit subtly, and her eyes are dark. A steep wave of arousal pulses through you when her tongue slips out along her upper lip, her gaze flicking down to your mouth and back up again: a question. The second you nod her mouth is on yours, both of you sighing into the touch. You cup the back of her neck, pulling her closer still as your other hand fists around the fabric of her dress. An insistent tug at your waist brings one of your legs between her own, hips rolling against each other as she gropes at you mindlessly, squeezing the thigh slotted over her heat.

“Is this okay?” she asks breathlessly, dragging your bottom lip between her teeth before she pulls away to look at you. Her cheeks are flushed a heavy pink and her lipstick is smudged. You giggle at the realization that there must be bright crimson streaks along your chin and lips.

“Yes,” you assure her between steadying pants, stroking a hand from her shoulder to her wrist and entwining your fingers, giving them a gentle pinch. “You alright?”

A smile briefly turns her lips, soft and loose. “Very much so.”

The next few moments are sweeter, slower as you take your time savoring her taste, tracing the swell of her lips, the delicate scar at the top there, following the line of her jaw up into her hair with your fingertips. She presses into you as gentle as ever, drawing shivers up to the surface of your skin as her hand snakes up the length of your spine. Barely there still is the sound of the fire lingering in its box and the distinct roar of wintry gusts at the window, mere suggestions at the back of your brain. The wine’s been long forgotten on the table.

You shudder when Larissa’s fingers tease at the lower hem of your blouse and brush against a bare sliver of skin, resting there before you arch into her and take hold of her wrist, guiding her hand higher. Her lips quirk to one side at your earnestness, especially as she reaches the clasp of your bra. She hesitates again, more teasing than searching, and slides her tongue into your willing mouth, exhaling sharply when you meet her move for move. Nimble fingers unclasp the bra without issue before they drift around to your front, putting distance between your bodies as Larissa palms your breasts, takes a nipple between her fingertips and pulls and twists with wicked dexterity.

A whimper escapes you when she sinks her teeth into your lip for a second time, much harsher this go around before she suddenly parts from you and begins pressing open-mouth kisses along your jaw and down your neck, nipping and soothing in time with the hapless rocking of your hips. She adjusts to unbutton your top, never once pausing in her assault on your neck as she does so.

“Wait,” you pant out suddenly, and all at once her body leaves you, drawing back to give you space. The look on Larissa’s face is a concerned one, but gentle still, and you know she’ll follow where you need. It’s everything you can do not to keep her waiting in exchange for the chance to look at her, swollen lips and mussed hair, dress askew. 

She’s never been more beautiful to you. 

“Take me to bed.”

Her concern is washed away and replaced with relief - and then more prominent, want.

Larissa rises up from the couch and reaches a hand out to you, catching you off-guard when instead of walking you to the bedroom once you stand, she bends at the knee and scoops you up, your legs coming to wrap around her waist as you laugh in surprise.

“Who am I to say no,” she teases, placing a chaste kiss to the corner of your lips before making the careful trek over to the bedroom.

The question of where she’ll sleep is hardly that anymore. 

You’re both already naked and rocking against each other beneath her blankets when the power goes out. Neither of you truly take notice until the temperature in the room’s significantly plummeted.

“Oh–––one moment, darling.” You push yourself up on your elbows and whine as Larissa slips out of bed, hissing against the cold. Goosebumps raise along her skin, the peaks of her nipples hardening further as she rushes to kneel before the fireplace, sparking a flame in record time. Her skin nearly glows in the moonlight that trickles in from the windows, reflective amidst the snow. She looks like a ghost before you - ethereal, hauntingly so - and you tilt your head, gaze tracking from the deep slope of her calves to the fine curve of her ass, the faint divots of her spine, the wisps of hair that have come loose from their hold and fallen to her shoulders.

“You’re staring,” Larissa chides as she slides back under the covers, shivering.

“I’m admiring,” you correct lamely, a pitiful pout coming to rest upon your lips as you open your arms and draw her closer to warm her now-frigid skin. She hums as if to say ‘yeah, okay,’ burrows into you and drapes an arm across your middle as she pushes her leg between yours. Your hips instinctively buck when her thigh slides against the wetness of your cunt, and you’re both abruptly reminded of what had you so distracted in the first place.

Larissa tentatively nods towards you again and runs the tip of her tongue along your pulse point, your hips beginning to rock together once more, panting heavily and in unison while the storm surges on outside, unabated. The heat pooling in your stomach is in stark contrast to the drifting chill in the room, rearing a confused, overwhelming sensation of hot-cold along your skin. Larissa’s breath, warm on your neck, only further urges the feeling along until you feel as though you might snap if she doesn’t take you fully.

“Please,” you whimper, dragging your nails up over her back with little reserve. Larissa nips at your chin and yanks your leg further across her, taut against your clit.

“Please what?” Her voice is raked over with a carnal desire the likes of which you’ve never seen on her before, deep and airy. It only serves to pull the coil tighter. Your breath hitches as she pushes herself up on her hands and knees, hovering over you now, and she leans down, down until her face is level with yours, an intense wave of adoration flooding through you as she caresses one of your cheeks. She whispers, “I want you to beg, sweetheart,” and it’s all over, never a chance, the air all but torn from you, slick heat gone straight to your cunt.

Beg for her. Beg for Her. No matter how many times the thought bounces around within that empty little head of yours, you’re frozen in place both by lust and surprise. You’ve had your share of fun, of course, but the type that usually involves you calling the shots, taking charge. You thought you liked it that way.

You might’ve been wrong.

You’re only finally jostled from your thoughts when Larissa pulls back and draws a brow up at your silence. A shadow of concern passes over her face but you’re quick to pull her back in, nodding.

“Please fuck me,” you all but whisper, desperate to be filled, to be warmed, to be taken care of while the elements ravage the earth beyond these four walls. Larissa grins smugly at your feebleness, pressing her full weight upon you before she winds a hand down between your bodies, cupping your slickness in her palm. You’re dripping all over yourself, you know: a cool, nearly chafing wetness coating the inside of your thighs, so easily spread when Larissa dips her fingers in between your folds. She sinks a single digit into you just halfway, draws it out, sinks in again and curls it against that soft spot, yes, right there––

She easily adds another and hums at the way your body translates its own neediness, busying her mouth with the soft line of your jaw.

“You feel so good..” she murmurs as her fingers bury themselves into you knuckle-deep, so long and soft and better than you’d ever imagined (and you’d certainly spent time imagining it). Her hips press into yours from above, throwing weight behind her hand as she rolls against you, a slow and steady fucking that excites the fire already roaring within you. You gaze up at her in awe as her eyelids flutter in time with the movement of her hips, realizing she’s found just the right friction against the back of her own hand that each time she thrusts into you, a firm, rippling pressure rubs up against her own clit.

Your hands search frantically now until they’re planted at the slope of Larissa’s waist and you watch, carefully, as you pull her harder into each drive of her hips, rejoicing when she gasps and shudders into the pattern, breaking it for a fraction of a second before driving into you with a far greater desperation.

“Oohf, yes, th-that’s it, darling,” she pants out before capturing your lips in a sloppy, bruising kiss. Suddenly your own orgasm is incidental as you revel in the picture of her coming undone above you, chest flushed, cheeks pink, her hair falling further from its updo as she works her bottom lip between her teeth.

“Look at me, I want to see you,” you clamor with a novel burst of confidence, hands drifting up from her waist to cup her face in your palms. You want to look her in the eye when she cums. You want the memory of her sounds, her face, so deeply imbedded in your mind that it’ll keep you warm when you’ve returned to your own quarters. You want, you want, you want, and she whimpers - a heavenly sound - and obliges, gaze unfocused for a moment before she looks down at you, tongue darting out as she attempts to maintain some degree of focus.

“Right there, right there.. I can feel how close you are,” you huffily encourage, shifting so that both of your legs wrap tight around her and wrench her deeper, harder into you, smiling when her breath hitches at the change of pace and pressure against her sex. You watch her closely, in awe: Larissa’s brows are furrowed, her mouth fallen open and the pink of her tongue closely matched to that of her cheeks, the slight swell of her tits lurching which each thrust. The knowledge that each plunge into your cunt brings her closer is surreal––that she’s so obviously getting off on fucking you, that the frantic snap of her hips is building both of you up, simultaneously.

Her hips begin to stutter into you, airy whimpers falling from her as she teeters on the edge, fingers curling haphazardly in an attempt to continue fucking you through the oncoming rush of her orgasm. The mattress rocks and dips momentarily as Larissa gasps, sharp, and suddenly bows over you with the force of her climax, breath hot on your neck, forehead pressed into your temple, chest heaving against yours as she mindlessly ruts. Her fingers remain buried in your heat, pulsing slowly in time with her come-down. 

Larissa’s body shudders as you run your palm over her in light, gentle sweeps, one hand carefully traveling to cup the back of her neck.

“You’re alright.. I know.. ‘s good, hm?” You feel a weak nod at your side, Larissa eventually stilling atop you. The pad of her thumb draws slow, lazy circles around your clit as her breathing slows, nosing the crook between your shoulder and neck. 

“Christ,” she mumbles against your skin, and you chuckle as her lips draw a line from your ear to your chin.

“Yeah?” She hums and - slowly, determined - begins to wriggle down your body until her face is level with your cunt, glancing up at you with a blissed-out smirk before she presses an open-mouthed kiss to your slickness. The wet warmth of her tongue slides easily against you, dipping between your folds, lapping up the puddle that’s collected at your center, working in tandem with the pressure of her thumb at your clit, a feeling dumbly akin to religious devotion: a reverent prayer at your sex, holy flames licking up the walls of her bedroom, the weighted creases of her sheets stretched where she kneels before you.

A strong gust of wind wracks the shutters of her windows. They bang haphazardly against the glass, knocking in time with the surges of the storm.

Your fingers clench around the bed covers as Larissa rolls over your entrance once more, teasing, then pushing into your dripping hole with an embarrassing ease. She fucks you slow and as deep as she’s able, fingernails digging into the flesh of your hips. Not even the devil themself could stop you from rolling your pussy against her face in search of some greater friction, whining as the sounds of her tongue wading through your arousal mixes with the crackling of the fireplace, the moan of the storm outside.

“Ohfuckyes,” you pant as your legs spread further on their own accord, knees drawing up to alter the angle at which your pleasure floods through you. She moves with delicious ability, and you watch the stark blondeness of her hair bob with every fervent lap of her tongue, overwhelmed with the sudden realness of the moment: Larissa’s scent on the pillows, her lipstick smudged across your lips, her sweat on your skin. Her thumb abandons your clit, and a desperate cry waits at the threshold of your mouth until her finger is replaced with the pointed flicking of her tongue, quick and full and firm against you. The coil pulls tight within your core.

She murmurs something brusque but you’re too consumed with the sensation of her fingertips at your inner thigh to process, but she repeats herself as you release a heavy sigh, her fingers sinking deep into your cunt.

“That’s a good girl..." Your back arches at the same time Larissa takes your clit into her mouth, sucking and slurping as if to drink from that little bundle of nerves drawn straight to your core, as if to quench an otherworldly thirst. She pulls your orgasm from you quick and unforgivingly, never stumbling in her ministrations when your thighs begin to close in around her, or when your hands wind into her hair and pull, hard. She continues to devour you as if she doesn’t notice the snapping of that coil, the sounds that melt into the satiny sheets of her bed as you cry out for her–––the curling into yourself as your clit throbs towards unbearable tenderness.

“Fff––please, please, I’m––” Sapphire eyes bore into yours as her lips stretch into a devious smile, slowly but surely unlatching. A mercy, if you’ve ever seen one. You tremble in relief.

“You can’t take it?” she coos, superficial concern floating by your quivering sex. You don’t know whether to pull her closer or push her away when Larissa glances down towards your soaking cunt again––––

but the choice is made for you when she draws herself up and grabs hold of your chin, pushing her tongue into the waiting cavern of your mouth. The sure expanse of her thigh slides between your legs as she does so, eliciting a startled twitch as she brushes against your clit. She swallows your gasp.

“So sweet.” Larissa nips at your chin, presses her thigh against you more firmly and rubs her thumb back and forth along your cheek. Your hips buck of their own volition, acting solely on the most primal of instincts despite the sensitive twinge between your legs. There’s only Larissa’s softness, her warmth, her gentle affection circling your head, coloring the air around you. The world’s ending outside and it’s just her.

“Please kiss me,” you whisper, suddenly overcome with the need to absorb her, to touch her anywhere and everywhere all at once as if you could meld together somehow amidst the tousled satin.

She stills, hovering over you with a smile so soft you’re almost certain this has all been a very long, very desperate webbing of dreams until she obliges, brushing her lips against yours with the utmost of care.

“Are you alright?” Her voice is hushed, eyes searching.

“Better than alright,” you assure her, brushing a stray hair from in front of her face. “Kind of just wanted to be close to you…” You shrug sheepishly and turn your attention to the far wall, suddenly very interested in the twisting shadows of trees cast against the space there. The abrupt rush of vulnerability reddens your cheeks, lips pursing as the regret at such an intimate admission prickles up with equal swiftness. It’s quickly brushed away, however, when Larissa clicks her tongue and tilts your face towards her with a palm against your cheek, brow arched amusedly.

“Then be close,” she says, pressing a small kiss to the tip of your nose before she pulls you flush against her and buries her face into your neck. The fire’s dwindling, informed by the dying light of the room, the falling temperature beyond the bed, but neither of you notice as you wrap yourselves up in the arms of the other, tending to a warmth all your own.

[daydream-cement]

Beautiful, Good Girl (NSFW)

Larissa Weems x Reader

Larissa must enjoy just how beautiful she really is. Bit of smut with no plot whatsoever.

Thank you to @sassypizzahideout for your request! This fic was based off this amazing post by @peaches-n-cherries (Link to post)

“That’s right, my beautiful, good girl. This show is all about you.” You muttered into Larissa’s ear, earning a whimper from the long-legged beauty who sat between your legs. You both were facing a mirror, completely unclothed as the platinum blonde unraveled in your arms.

Your hands gently massaged her breasts, fingers twisting at her rosy nipples. The buds of her breasts soon began to harden at your touch. Her legs soon began to fidget and shake as her desire grew between her legs. 

A breathy chuckle passed through your lips to the hair at the nape of her neck, sending chills through the headmistress’s body. “Look how desperate you are…” 

“P-please…” Larissa uttered, her neck craning so her face could tuck itself in the crook of your neck. While the gesture was sweet, this was all about her and you had made it clear she needed to watch how beautiful she was. The headmistress needed to follow orders if she were to be rewarded. 

“Chin up… Keep looking at yourself…” You order, a free hand coming to catch her chin while the other slipped down her abdomen - gently caressing her soft flesh before allowing your fingers to slip into her slit. Directing her gaze towards the mirror, you begin circling your fingers around her clit, delighted with how wet you found her to be. 

Her gaze was faltering - half lidded eyes fluttering with every jolt created when you glossed your fingers over that sweet spot at the underside of her clit. You adored how well acquainted you had become with her body. Long nights and early mornings before work allowed you to come to know every square inch of this statuesque beauty which now making you determined to put that knowledge to good use. 

The wide spread of her legs faltered as a jolt coursed through her body, leading you to wind your legs over hers before pulling back. This forced her legs open for you, readying her for whatever sweet torment you wished to put her through. 

Her breathing became more ragged and shallow as the circling of her clit began to feel a little too good. To rectify this, your fingers slipped away from her sensitive bud to her sweet opening. She was wetter than anticipated as you slowly inserted two fingers - the digits slipping in with ease due to her extreme arousal. 

Glancing up as your fingers disappeared into her aching cunt, you noticed Larissa’s eyes had fluttered shut. In response, you gripped her face a little tighter, sweetly whispering a command in her ear, “Look into those stunning eyes, baby… Look at how pretty and pink your cheeks flush when my fingers press into you…”

Larissa weakly pried her eyes open, her hands gripping your knees as she fought to do so. She examined her body just as you told her to, whimpering when her eyes fell to your fingers pumping in and out of her dripping pussy. 

Your tone was so condescending, yet so sweet - ultimately aimed at driving the shapeshifter mad. “I want you to cum all over my fingers… Can you do that for me, baby?” 

“Mhmhm…” The headmistress whimpered her reply in a pathetic hum as she bucked her hips against your fingers. Her eyes were now glued on her pussy as you began to move your fingers faster. She found it as mesmerizing as she did pleasurable. With her now following instruction, you dropped your hand away from her face to lightly squeeze her neck - the sensation immediately causing her to moan in desperation. “Oh, fuck me!”

Her cry of pleasure caused you to growl and increase your pacing. You began to absolutely punish her with your finger fucking - the sound of her sopping cunt filling the air as you fucked her harder with your fingers. Larissa’s whimpers and moans grew louder and louder as the minutes passed. 

Suddenly, you pulled the fingers from her leaky pussy and held them in front of her face, offering your glistening digits for her to take in her mouth. She accepted them greedily, groaning as soon as her tongue made contact with her juices. 

When you pulled them from her mouth, there was a trail of saliva between your fingers and her mouth. You growled at the filthy sight and splayed your hand from her neck onto her jaw, tilting her head to face you so you could place a sloppy kiss to her lips. Your tongues mingled for a long moment, passing saliva and her cum between your mouths. 

As you kissed her, your wet fingers found her cunt once again and plunged back inside to continue the finger fucking. This led to Larissa moaning into your mouth as you stroked the spongy tissue deep inside. 

Larissa broke the kiss suddenly, forewarning you of her eminent orgasm. “Oh, god- Darling, I may-” 

“Watch yourself, baby. Watch yourself cum all over my fingers.” 

At your command, she faced forward once more and whimpered at the sight of her leaky pussy creating a wet spot beneath her. You latch your lips onto her neck, softly biting and sucking at her sweet flesh as your eyes peer up into the mirror to watch her fall to pieces. 

She lasted a final ten seconds before her back arched and hips lifted off the ground. An orgasm shook her body, her eyes squeezing shut after she witnessed as much as she could. Your body worked against hers to keep her still, fingers slipping from her cunt to swipe over her clit a final few times. Larissa cried your name - the name becoming softer on her tongue as she repeated it over and over. 

Her face turned to meet yours to kiss you once more and you finally pulled your fingers away from her pussy to rest against her abdomen. The dominant demeanor leaving your body as your tongues and limbs began to intertwine with a new sense of passion. 

Larissa had turned in your arms and pushed you to the floor, her lips pressing all over in an act of thanks. There was no attempt on her behalf to initiate anything further - rather, she was more interested in pressing kiss after kiss to your jaw as she whispered to you, “I love you, my sweet darling.”

“I love you, baby…” You wrapped your arms around her waist, holding her to you for a few moments. 

The two of you would inevitably grow tired of the uncomfortable position on the floor and venture into bed where you would tangle yourselves together once more. Her face would undoubtedly be tucked under your chin, feeling incredibly safe as she was wound tight in your embrace.

Taglist: @charymobile, @bri-sonat, @weemswife, @ihavenoclue2008, @smutuniversesblog, @opheliauniverse, @teashock, @enchantressb, @alex-nyx, @renravens, @whenyouhaveanobsession, @scream-queenlover, @l22e22a , @shyladyfan, @lilfartbox1, @rubberduckiesbathing, @mcufanisme, @peanutbutterprincess, @Alexthefavgay , @ladylarissaweems , @lvinhs, @myzzjolanda, @ohana19 , @principal-weems09, @emilynissangt-r, @xuukoo, @brienneswife, @dumbasslesbi, @kay-liah-scope , @oculusalien, @kimiinou , @sweetderacine, @giogwensversion, @milciak, @Awkprettywrad , @gela123, @thevillagegay, @katiemcgrathsbitch1, @naomi-m3ndez, @mysaviorfalsegod, @h-doodles, @salems-spaghettios, @imgayforwoman69, @Awkprettyward , @bychrissi, @fyrecatz

[cissyenthusiast010155]

Hi so i loved what the body wants and i was wondering if you’d do something similar like they hate each other, get locked in a small space but R’s claustrophobic and Rissa helps. Just a bunch of fluff? X

Yesss. Hi anon! Here’s an enemies to friends angst and fluff piece for you, dear anon!! Hope you Enjoy ♥️♥️

Numb and Afraid ~Soft!Larissa Weems xFem Teacher!Reader

Mommy… Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

Warnings: angst, enemies to friends, happy ending fluff, claustrophobia, high anxiety, implied anxiety attack, crying, comforting, pet names, etc.

Enjoy (;

“Yes, Miss L/N… What do you want?” Larissa sighed in annoyance as you entered her office.

You gritted your teeth together at her tone. She made the hair on the back of your neck stand up in the worst way. You took a deep breath.

“I need access to the storage closet. I’m out of Kleenex.” You explained.

Larissa looked up from her work and looked you up and down suspiciously, as if you would have nefarious intentions with some tissues.

“I see…” she breathed out, “Well, I shall take you there myself.”

She decided and stood up, grabbing her keys.

“No need. Just need the key!” You quickly exclaimed.

Larissa stopped what she was doing, grabbing her things, and stared at you.

“I will be going with you. You have no other business but to get Kleenex, and I shall make sure you stick to it.” She condescendingly explained.

You gritted your teeth together again in anticipation. You nodded in defeat. The blonde raised her head in superiority, as she led you out of her office. The two of you walked to the storage closet, and Larissa unlocked it and held the door open for you.

You nodded and entered, immediately looking for the tissues. Larissa entered with you.

“Is that really necessary?” You sighed in frustration, “it’s only Kleenex…”

“It is absolutely necessary if I deem it so.” Larissa huffed.

But because she had entered behind you, she had let the door go. So it shut. And locked. You heard the click and immediately spun around.

You quickly looked around and suddenly the room looked very small. Your heart fluttered and began to race.

“Did the door lock?” You quickly asked, your mouth going dry.

Larissa had been intently watching you that she hadn’t noticed. But as you mentioned it, she went to open the door and it was locked.

Your mind started to spiral. Larissa tried the key but as she was inserting it and turning it ripped in half, blocking the lock entirely with its first half.

This was your nightmare.

Your eyes frantically ran over everything in the room, desperately searching for a way out. Tears started to form around your eyes. Your breathing was shallow and labored.

Larissa heard a sniffle behind her and turned around, clearly annoyed.

“What is the Ma—” she exclaimed halfway before shutting up at the sight of you.

Larissa’s face dropped into concern as she saw your chest heaving and your tears. Your hands were stimming by shaking violently in front of yourself.

She immediately dropped the defect half of the key and was at your side. Her one hand rubbed your back while her other cupped your cheek. You instinctually leaned into her touch, looking for any type of comfort. Sobs started to pour out from your throat, uncontrollably.

“I’m so sorry…” she whispered, “Are you claustrophobic, by chance love…?”

You nodded into her chest as sobs continued to pour out of you.

“Oh Sweetheart… Let me call someone to get us out of here, mkay?” She offered soothingly.

You sniffled, backing away slightly and nodding. As Larissa nodded and got on her phone, you fell to the floor against a wall. Your tears wouldn’t stop streaming down your face and you’d started stimming with your hands again.

As soon as Larissa had called the right people, she was right next to you once more.

“I’m so sorry, Darling…” she softly whispered, holding you as she had sat on the ground herself, “I did not know, I’m sorry…”

Larissa continued to apologize and comfort you until someone finally got the door back open.

“Thank you…” you croaked, as you finally exited the storage closet.

Larissa squeezed your hand reassuringly and smiled genuinely.

“Anytime, Sweetheart. Anytime.”

~~~

Larissa Weems Masterlist