#angry weems

[hislittleraincloud]

...I just spent wasted an hour scrolling through my old fandom journal so I could share an old G-rated drabble I wrote with someone...

...only to have it come up on Google with just a couple of key words.

Fuck this site's awful, awful uselessness of tags.

[littledollll]

Larissa: “anything to say for yourself?”

Y/n: “you look very kissable right now.”

[ajortga]

inspiration

pairing: wednesday addams x fem reader

word count: 1.9k+

summary: you are wednesday's inspiration to end her writer's block.

warnings: mentions of blood, knives, stabbing, (but only briefly, story is full of fluff)

-

“Hey baby,” you say softly, closing your dorm door gently before you approach your girlfriend, busy with her novels on her typewriter. “Writer’s block today?”

Her eyebrows scrunch together, like if staring down her typewriter would magically have the words come to her.“I told you not to call me that mi corazon. And yes, I will admit I am quite struggling with my second book. It’s hard to incorporate feelings that aren’t just vicious. No ideas.” Wednesday says firmly, clicking on the keys before turning to you, her deep brown eyes looking in yours. 

You laugh, sitting next to her and placing a hand on hers, “Oh, but you can call me that?” You roll your eyes, taking out her left braid and redoing it for her. 

“It’s different.”

“How so?”

“Don’t question me or else I won’t call you that again, puppy.”

She looks down at your figure, tongue sticking out slightly as you tangle the three parts of her hair to intertwine. “Did you give Thing a snood?”

It’s a little quiet, faint pop music from Enid and Yoko’s room coming from outside. You smell like you just came from a garden, the black-haired girl taking the hint that you smell earthy, musky, and slightly sweet from your natural undertones.

You tie the ends as you nod, “It’s getting a little cold, don’t want him to feel left out, do we? Why? Did he tell you?”

Her eyes soften, of course no one could see when they did except you, but she glances to the glass that leads to outside. “Hinted, he wore that thing for a week already without taking it off.”

You grab the rubber band and tighten the braids, kissing her hair softly. “He loves it that much, huh?”

“Love is a strong word,” Wednesday states, not mentioning that the creature was only wearing it because he loved you as close as he loved her. “But it’s a close competition.”

“Mmmm,” you nod, looking at her as you smile. “Oh, I came in here to tell you that I gotta help babysit my nieces and nephews in an hour and won’t be back till night.”

Oh. At least she would have alone time for her new novel, Wednesday thought.

Right? 

A new novel that she has completely blacked out on, Viper de la Muerte yet to have another plot hole to discover. Now that she thought about it, maybe she should map out the feelings the girl has. What makes her angry, upset, triggered… Happy. Wednesday shivers at the thought. But what’s a story with just angst and blood? No one would want to read that if it was published. She would think about that later.

“I see,” she says, taking note of the way you’re playing with her fingers. It’s something you do when you’re nervous or hoping for a response. A response that Wednesday has no clue what you want her to speak. 

Maybe you were telling her to get some alone time, or so she doesn’t worry the whole day and search the woods high and low for you. She did do that once. When you and Enid went out for a candy run. To say the least, she was pissed.

‘Worriedly freaked out’ Mrs. Weems would say.

“Well,” Wednesday clears her throat, trying to get rid of the awkward silence, “If you need me I’ll be here.”

Oh…

If any human being were to look at you, they would see no change in your expression.

Wednesday is not a human being. She’s studied you in and out. Slight raise of your eyebrows indicated you were interested, a scrunch of the nose meant you were trying to be playful. But there were some things that she could just feel, like when there's no spark in your eyes. You looked a little disappointed.

“Unless,” the girl says quickly, “You want me to come with you?”

Your eyes widen, and the spark comes back again, she has to let out a sigh of relief. “Could you? You would do that?”

“Of course I will bab-” She coughs again, “Mi corazon. You should know that by now.”

She would do anything for you. Even if it meant having little kids tug at her hair.

You smile.

-

“I’m beginning to regret this,” the black hair girl says, slightly irritated as you bounce baby James up and down in your arms. Baby James, who is completely peaceful and giggling, while baby Mabel tugs on Wednesday’s braids, babbling and giggling. 

She gives her a hard tug on the ends, making Wednesday flare up for a moment.

“Hey, hey.” You say, quickly to your girlfriend’s side as you carry Mabel with one arm. “We don't tug on people’s hair, okay? Not me, not your brother, not my girlfriend, definitely not my girlfriend! Don’t do that.”

Mabel throws her arms up in the air and rips four strands off your hair.

“No!” You firmly say. 

“See, I’m telling you,” your girlfriend gives Mabel a cold glare, which makes Mabel giggle and kick. “I tell her to stop, she doesn’t.”

She’s got a point, but you don’t give up that easily, “We just have to be patient,” the baby brunette lifts her small chubby hands to your hair before you look at her and firmly say, “No.” She immediately stops and babbles, “Won't ...Tchhh..Touch..” 

Your eyes crinkle into a smile. “See! She did it!” You yippee.

Well, I guess these small creatures are trainable after all, Wednesday thinks.

Before you can cradle Mabel and play with her hair, two voices shout in the distance, coming down the stairs, “Auntie Y/N!” Another boy and girl stomp in, running with toys in their hands that are currently in the air.

Wednesday makes a small scowl, looking at the tiny kids stampeding up to you with giggles of joy.

“Hi guys!” You smile, being tackled to the carpet as two boys cling onto your legs and the girls jump and down around you.

They look at Wednesday, which she can almost feel their curiosity, innocent eyes searching her. “Who is she? Pretty braids.” One of the girls, Jess, asks as she looks at the black haired girl. 

She would’ve expected you to say that she was your friend, especially in front of all these toddlers, but instead, you pick Jess up and swing her in the air. “That’s Wednesday, my girlfriend.”

“Awww,” the two girls say as they babble and wave to Wednesday. “Can we touch your hair?”

You look at Mabel as she looks up at you, “Won’t tug.”

“Okay baby,” You say, kissing the top of Mabel’s head. “Don’t hurt her. I love her too much for her to go bald.”

It almost makes Wednesday’s cold heart warm up. A small twitch of her mouth smiles. A smile that only Uncle Fester would bring before she knew you. A smile that she would only feel when she solved another mystery and connected the dots. 

But you could make her heart feel like goo anytime. To say the least, seeing you all soft around kids made her feel something. Inspiration.

As you and Wednesday came home from the night, her braided hair having slight ends sticking out from all the kids admiring and playing with it, she immediately walked to her typewriter.

2 months of writer's block, 2 months of having no clue what to add to enlighten Viper’s personality. But here she was, like she had new fingers. It felt like they just knew what they needed to say as they clicked and clacked against the typewriter. Magic that comes from the start of her fingertips. You were her inspiration.

————————————— CHAPTER IV ——————————————

One thing that Viper would never like to admit, to even herself, is that she feels more than these emotions that she thought didn’t exist. She thought she was emotionless, not feeling an ounce of joy. Even the word joy made her want to tear a knife through her ragged heart. For once in her life, she felt an emotion that occurs once in a blue moon. An emotion that started to occur so many times before and after a blue moon.

Perhaps it was weird to her at first. Weird to be able to feel something deep in her soul. But she felt her ragged heart feel warm. Soft and pumping with blood. Soft enough to feel protective of what mattered most to Viper. At first, she felt eager and overly protective of her sword that was given to her as a gift. But now, she feels as though she was given a gift that was sent from above. Hell, she thought it didn’t exist till she came.

Viper de la Muerta felt soft, fond, and joyous for someone she never knew for long. She only started to know her recently, yet her family never made her feel soft. Sure, she was protective over them, but never enough to have the fondness dissipate in the matter of seconds. This girl was different, everything opposite from de la Muerta. She was happy, unafraid to show Viper her worst side, unafraid to lean a little closer to Viper when she herself was crying, she was the sun to Viper’s moon. 

Oh, and there came the toddlers. Viper had never seen this side of this girl before. She was gentle and sweet at all the same time, like she would kill to protect these little ones, or to be able to make them happy. The look in the girl’s eyes made Viper wonder if she looked at her with the same feelings.

Viper had something to look up to. Someone. And she knew that this girl was the one. As soon as she saw it with her own eyes, the person who made her feel productive all these past weeks jumped in front of her to save her life before it could be too late. She had taken a knife through her chest before it could go through Viper’s heart. As soon as the girl dropped to her knees in a flurry and saw her eyes, confused and scared, Viper was crying. For the first time in 12 years, she was crying. 

She felt all the emotions she never felt before from the span of now, and when she first met the girl. She felt proud whenever she brought something up and saw the girl light up into a smile. Upset, when she had made her cry. Worried, when she nervously scratched the chair she was sitting on, praying to Lord that they wouldn’t take her away from Viper. Anger, as she hunted the person who held the knife and hurt you. She used the same knife as she brought down the blade the 23rd time to his bloodied body. One for every day she had been unconscious. Guilt, Viper felt guilty every day you had laid on the hospital bed, eyes shut with an oxygen tank over your nose, so guilty that she wished that you didn’t come in time to save her so she could save you the trouble from being hurt. She’d survive a knife that was close to her heart. If she didn’t, she’d still wish that something would’ve happened differently so you didn’t take the blade. She felt guilty that she felt guilty about growing so attached to someone and not being able to let them out of her sight.

But she felt something else. She felt love for her, something that she couldn’t figure out before she thought it was too late. She had kept her close, reading her favorite books next to the unconscious girl in the hospital. She had talked to her like she was awake and breathing, she had held her every night till she fell asleep and got better. Viper had made sure she was safe.

Her name was Y/N.

[thedemoninme141]

Her Heartbeat, Chapter 1: Her Anger.

Summary: Wednesday's anger got her into trouble, Where do you come along?

Warnings: There isn't really any warning but I guess WednesdayBeatingPeople???? FLUFF!!!! No angst in this chapter, but who knows what happens in the future...

Masterlist

Wednesday sat there, in her dorm, right in front of the half-colored half-dead window.Your diary in her hand. And for the first time in her life, Wednesday felt anger. Anger was for people who lost control, who let their emotions drive their actions, who lashed out in fits of rage. Wednesday was never angry. She was annoyed most of the time, but angry? Never. At least that's what she kept telling herself. But inside, her blood simmered with a quiet rage, an anger that she had never considered a flaw but rather a necessary tool for survival. It was not an issue—it was a tolerance bar. And God help whoever crosses it.

So when those boys at Weathervane decided to mock Enid, they unknowingly signed their own fate. The day was already going bad and Wednesday's tolerance bar had reached its limit, and she had done what she deemed appropriate. Enid had tried to stop her, of course, pulling on her arm. She was still in control, right?

Okay fine! She broke a few bones, dislocated a jaw or two, and made sure they would remember to keep Enid’s name out of their mouths for as long as they lived.

When the cops came to the scene, Wednesday was still standing over the boys, wiping her knuckles with a napkin. She was arrested for the third time in her life. Or was it fourth time? Those boys were arrested too, but somehow it was only Wednesday who ended up with a mandatory sentence: Anger Management Therapy sessions. How utterly ridiculous. What could possibly be wrong with expressing herself in a way that ensured she was heard, understood, and remembered?

"You cannot say no, Wednesday, if you do not attend and pass this therapy session, I will have no choice but to expel you."

Ugh, why did Weems even survive Thornhill's poison?

And that’s how Wednesday found herself stuck in this new circle of hell. It was infuriating. It was unjust. And it was a complete waste of time.

The sessions were held in a nondescript building just off the main street in Jericho, where people who had done things they "shouldn't" were supposed to fix themselves. They were meant to "reflect," "heal," and "improve." Wednesday didn't need improvement. She was perfect as she was, she was everything they could never be: self-sufficient, rational, and unapologetic.

The group leader, David, was an insufferable man in his mid-thirties. And much to Wednesday's dismay, he was the male version of Enid. He was incessantly cheerful, overly intrusive, and sickeningly optimistic about everyone’s potential for change. Wednesday found him exhausting.

David had made it his mission to get Wednesday to "open up," constantly encouraging her to share her feelings, recount her past, and dig deep into the source of her "anger." But Wednesday refused to play his game. She sat through the sessions in stony silence, expressing her disinterest as the other participants spoke of their mistakes and regrets. The only sound she made was the tap of her boots. Maybe she can annoy David enough to get kicked out of this nonsense.

She showed up late, ignored his questions, and rolled her eyes whenever he tried to address her. But David was unflappable. He would only chuckle softly, as if she were some mischievous child whose antics were endearing rather than infuriating. Every time she pushed, he merely pushed back with more patience, more persistence, and an infuriatingly steady resolve. After a while, she realized he would not break, and she would only be prolonging her sentence by continuing to fight him.

She attended every session and waited silently while the others poured their hearts out. She refused to say a word, they didn't deserve to know a thing about her. Maybe things aren't exactly too bad. She can just go through alone without causing any trouble so David can finally give some positive feedback on her report and let her be free.

But he had thrown a new wrench into her already miserable routine. He announced, with that obnoxious grin plastered on his face, that they were now required to bring a "partner" to the sessions. Someone who can vouch for them, that they are making progress outside of the therapy session too. Someone who could act as their support system, their "anchor" in times of distress. As if she needed an anchor.

The mere thought of dragging someone else into this circus wasn't exactly unpleasing. At least she could pass her time watching them suffer.

But the problem was she didn't have a line of volunteers waiting to join her in group therapy

Enid, unsurprisingly, had refused immediately, citing her “makeup sessions” with Yoko as an excuse. Wednesday could see right through her, though. Enid’s answer wasn’t about makeup; it was about not wanting to spend her Fridays and Saturdays in a gloomy room with a bunch of disgruntled teenagers and their annoying leader. And honestly, can Wednesday blame her?

Eugene was a possibility, but he was too innocent, too eager to please. He would end up making her look ridiculous in front of the group.

Xavier would have jumped at the opportunity if he hadn’t transferred out last month, much to Wednesday’s relief. Wednesday needed someone but Xavier? Ew, Wednesday wasn't that desperate.

However, she was desperate enough to ask Bianca, who, getting the chance, mocked her before refusing her, “You got yourself in this mess, Wednesday. Surely you can get yourself out,”

That left no one. Not a single person who would willingly subject themselves to the torture of these sessions, and certainly not for her sake. But David had made it clear: no partner, no progress. And no progress meant more sessions, dragging on into the foreseeable future until she complied.

Fine. Screw Bianca. Screw this whole place, this entire ridiculous therapy group, and all its pointless exercises. There wasn’t even a single murder to investigate, no mysteries to solve, nothing to occupy her mind except these meaningless tasks assigned by the so-called professionals who think they can ‘fix’ her. Wednesday was done. Maybe she should run away again. Yes, she could slip out, make her way to Weathervane, and catch a bus to anywhere but here. No one would miss her, and she wouldn’t miss them.

Wednesday was so engrossed in her thoughts of escape that she didn’t even notice when someone approached her. It wasn’t until she heard an exasperated voice that she snapped out of it.

“Hey! Are you even listening?”

She blinked, her gaze shifting to the source of the interruption. A girl stood in front of her, arms crossed, looking more annoyed than intimidated. Wednesday’s eyebrows knit together.

“Who the hell are you?”

“I’m Y/n.”

Wednesday raised an eyebrow, completely unimpressed. “Congratulations. So what am I supposed to do with that information?”

"Ugh" you groaned “Well, I need your help,” you stated, trying to sound confident but there was an edge of uncertainty in your voice.

“No.” Wednesday didn’t even bother to ask what you needed.

“Oh, come on!” you shot back, clearly annoyed by her immediate dismissal. “At least ask what I need help with! I heard you’re quite good with these kinds of things.”

Wednesday’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What things? If you’re talking about murdering someone, then sure.”

“No, not murdering someone!” You glanced around nervously, almost mumbling. “It’s… umm… kind of like that, but not really… how do I say it…”

Wednesday cut you off with a sharp glare. “Waste my time, and you'll be the one getting murdered.”

“Okay, Jesus, calm down,” you muttered. “I need your help kidnapping someone.”

Wednesday blinked, taken aback. Her expression flickered with surprise, but it was quickly masked by her usual indifference.

"Why would you even think I’d help you? Wait, first of all why would you even think I’m qualified for this job?"

"Because you’re bored," you said plainly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "You see, I missed the last few months of last year, so I missed your grand entrance and your Hyde case, but I’ve heard about your reputation. How you took down Crackstone and how you saved the school. But I know you didn’t do it for the school—you did it for the thrill. For the challenge. You like going against the system."

She hated how accurate that was. It made her uneasy, like you could see right through her. Still, she wasn’t about to admit that you were right. Instead, she said, “No,” once more and got up, ready to walk away.

“Wait, I can give you money.” you blurted out.

The audacity... Wednesday stopped in her tracks, turning to glare at you. “What on earth is wrong with you? Do you really think I’m some kind of hired goon? Someone you can just pay off?”

Your face flushed, and you quickly shook your head.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it that way. It just… slipped out. Please, I really need your help. Just tell me what I have to do.”

Wednesday should have turned around and left. She should have put as much distance between herself and this ridiculous request as possible. And yet… there was something in your audacity that intrigued her. Besides, she did need a partner for her therapy sessions, and making someone else suffer through them could be mildly entertaining.

"Fine," Wednesday said, her voice low and measured. "I’ll help you, but in return—"

You didn’t even let her finish. "Okay, done, agreed."

Wednesday blinked, momentarily thrown off by your eagerness. She hadn’t even told you what you would need to do, but you didn’t seem to care. You grabbed her hand, pulling her along with you as you headed towards the main gate.

"We don’t have much time," you said hurriedly. "We need to kidnap her right now."

Wednesday stumbled slightly as you dragged her along. Why wasn't she yanking her hand back? Her brows furrowed in confusion.

"Right now? Without any plan or any information?"

"Yeah, yeah," you said dismissively, waving your hand as if that was a minor detail. "I’ll tell you that on the way to the asylum."

“The what?” Wednesday’s voice rose slightly.

You just kept walking, your grip on her hand firm, and for once, Wednesday found herself caught up in someone else’s madness instead of her own.

CHAPTER 2 : Her Touch

[Author's note: Celine pretty much wrote the chapter 1, I just made some changes here and there, lol it took more time for me to create the art for this project than writing this, good news is Chapter 2 and 3 are almost ready.]

[paarthunaxx]

Hey! I was wondering if you could write about G!pLarissa and teacher!reader in which they get into an especially heated argument in Larissa's office and one thing leads to the other and they're all over each other. Basically angry sex on Larissa's desk and reader is very needy and sensitive and ofc Larissa is all into that

(bonus if there's mirror sex, we all know how many mirrors Larissa has in her office)

Thank you in advance

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 IT MAKES ME CRAZY WHEN YOU ACT SO CRUEL — 18+

larissa weems x fem! reader

word count: 2.9k

status: completed

summary: You are a teacher at Nevermore Academy. After working late grading essays in Larissa’s office, she suggests you take a nap. When you wake up, an argument ensues and Larrissa takes her emotions out on you… but not particularly in a bad way.

tags: angst, smvt, girlpenis!larissa, angry sex, top larissa, mirror sex, slight degradation, slight humiliation, size difference, p in v, face fvcking, name slvt, name wh0re

note: thank u so much for the request anon 🥺 i hope u like it << 33

read on ao3!

The old record player set up in the corner of Larissa’s office quietly spins out the voice of Judy Garland, filling the otherwise quiet room with a sense of serenity.

You sit across from the headmistress with a pile of essays on your lap and a red pen in hand. As you leaf through the pages, you make little marks and corrections here and there with your brow furrowed in concentration.

Larissa leans over her desk and types away on her laptop. The sound brought about by the gentle touch of her fingertips against the keys makes it a struggle for you to stay awake. It provides a soothing ambience paired with the soft spin of the record player. Your head droops every few minutes and you have to shake off the sleepiness each time before going back to the papers.

“Feeling tired, there?” Larissa teases and gives your leg a nudge with the pointed toe of her high heeled shoe.

“A little,” You admit around a laugh and stretch your arms out above your head. “What time is it?”

She turns her attention back down to the screen of her laptop to check the time in the corner. “Just after eleven.”

“Christ.” An exhale escapes your lips in a soft puff and you shake your head. “I don’t think I ever got tired this early before taking up my position here.”

“Being surrounded by teenagers all day every day has a certain way of… sucking the life out of you,” She huffs out a soft laugh as her painted red lips turn up to reveal a pearly white smile. “It seems their youth drains ours.” Larissa regards you with a fond stare as your eyes begin drooping again, lifting a perfectly manicured hand to stifle another sound of amusement. “Why don’t you take a break, dear? Have a nap. You’re more than welcome to use the couch, and I’ll wake you in an hour.”

Your line of sight trails after her hand as it gestures to the red velvet couch positioned beneath a large mirror. The few times you’ve had the displeasure of sitting on it during your time teaching at Nevermore, it has been rigid and uncomfortable. It always left your ass aching and your thighs cramping. But in that moment, it might as well be the softest cloud you’ve ever laid eyes upon, so inviting and warm.

You hesitate for a moment, feeling a spark of fear deep down that this might be some kind of test from Larissa to decide if you really are fit to be a teacher. However, as you study her sparkling blue eyes, you see only sincerity and concern shining in them. “Thank you,” You concede, ignoring your fears as you stand up from your chair. A groan escapes you as your joints make popping sounds in complaint at the sudden movement, your aching back being the loudest. “You sure you’ll wake me up in an hour?”

“Promise. Get some sleep,” Larissa hums absentmindedly and waves you off before turning her attention back to her laptop screen.

After another brief pause, you set the pile of essays down neatly on her desk and cross the room to the couch. You reach out and run your fingertips across the velvet, feeling the smooth material under your skin before giving in and sinking down on it. Larissa doesn’t glance in your direction again as you slip out of your shoes, set them neatly to the side and curl up in a little ball on the couch. It doesn’t take long before your eyes slip shut and you drift off.

Incoherent dreams flick through your mind like the channels of a television as you nap on the couch. After a while, your subconscious begins to grow suspicious that you have been asleep for too long. It feels like there should be an alarm ringing to wake you up, or something. You can’t quite remember. But you force your mind through the haze of sleep and make yourself wake up, anyway.

Blinking awake, you find yourself still curled up on the couch in Larissa’s office. It takes a second for your tired brain to orient itself and remember what you’re doing there. Your gaze flickers to the stack of essays on Larissa’s desk, and you groan softly when you’re reminded of how much you still have left to do.

“Hey,” You mumble and push yourself up into a sitting position, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand. “Has it been an hour yet?”

You watch as Larissa glances down to the time displayed on her laptop and her whole body stiffens. “Um…”

“What?”

“It… Well, it has certainly been an hour.”

She avoids your eyes and shifts uncomfortably in her seat, her long fingers drumming nervously against the dark wood of her mahogany desk. Her throat bobs as she swallows hard, and you find yourself growing nervous as you watch her squirm.

“Larissa…” You begin calmly. “How long has it been?”

Larissa’s teeth sink into her ruby lower lip and she exhales through her nose before turning in her seat to face you. “Three hours.”

“Three hours?” You bolt up from the couch, almost tripping over your abandoned shoes in the process as you hurry over to her desk and scoop up the essays. “Larissa, I have to be up in three more hours, I don’t have time to get everything done!”

“Well,” Larissa scoffs and folds her arms across her chest. “Perhaps you should have thought of that. You should have been more prepared.”

You gape at her, your grip tightening around the red pen in your hand so tight it seems in danger of snapping in half and spraying ink everywhere. “You told me to nap! You promised you would wake me in an hour! I would have been able to get it done if you had!”

“Don’t blame your time management faults on me!” Larissa snaps. “The time simply slipped away from me, because I was busy working while you—”

“Don’t you dare!” You cut her off with a frustrated growl. “You promised!”

“And I apologise for that, but I was simply too busy to pay attention to—”

“Yeah. You’re always too busy to pay attention to anything, aren’t you?” You mutter before letting out an incredulous laugh.

Larissa’s gaze turns cold as she narrows her azure eyes at you. “What is that supposed to mean?” She forces out between gritted teeth.

“It means,” You pause to take a deep breath. “I have to sit in your office until one in the morning every single night just to get a sliver of your attention. For you to even notice I’m there. And I ask one thing of you, at your suggestion—”

“Is that what you’re pouting about?” Larissa curls her lip in a sneer as she stands from her chair slowly, towering over you as she rounds the desk to where you’re standing. “I don’t pay enough attention to you, hmm? The poor little baby isn’t getting enough attention?”

“Don’t call me a baby,” You warn, your hands clenching into fists by your sides.

“Then stop acting like one!” She raises her voice, practically snarling as she stares down at you. Looking at you like you’re merely a student she has to discipline. “Grow up! You don’t need my attention to survive, and I don’t have the time to constantly give it to you. If that upsets you, then get out of my office and go find someone else who can pander to you all hours of the day.”

You flinch a little at her words, but the hint of vulnerability only flashes across your face before the pure rage returns and you spit, “Fuck you.”

Larissa suddenly grabs your shoulders and shoves you against the desk. The papers of your essays fly everywhere, her large hands holding you in a vice grip. “Is that what you want to do? Fine,” She seethes.

“Huh—?” You start, but she immediately cuts you off and crashes her lips against yours. At first you can only let out a surprised squeak in response, but it barely takes a second before your resolve melts and you lean into it. You’re so fucking pathetic.

Her lips meet yours in what feels more like a battle than anything intimate or loving. Unable to control yourself, your hands roam over every inch of her you can reach, grabbing and squeezing at her soft body. She fights for control when you start kissing her back eagerly, her tongue slipping past the seam of your lips and exploring your mouth with urgency. You’re only just beginning to get into the kiss when she pulls away. One hand moves from your shoulder to sink into your hair, gripping at the strands and using them to yank your head back. The action elicits a sharp moan from you as she tugs your lower lip between her teeth and sucks before moving to attack your neck.

Larissa’s other hand keeps you pinned against the desk. When it starts exploring your body with rough squeezes, she uses her own body to keep you trapped in place instead. “Little desperate whore,” She huffs against your throat before sucking a large mark into the soft flesh. “Look at what you do to me.”

Before you can respond, she pulls back and spins you around, pressing your front into the desk and bending you over it. Her larger frame leans over you, caging you against the desk as she lets out soft pants into your ear. “Gonna sit there and whine if you don’t get enough attention, hmm?” She mocks, her hips grinding against your behind. You gasp at the feeling of something hard pressing into you, and immediately try to push back into it and get some friction. “Ah, ah,” She scolds, pulling your hair again. “Did I say you could move?”

“No,” You whisper, your mind going fuzzy with the inability to concentrate on anything. The feeling of her tugging your skirt up only makes that feeling grow tenfold, and you can hardly control your breath as it shakes with anticipation.

“You want this?” Larissa asks in a mutter, pausing just until you nod desperately. “Of course you do,” She snorts. “You little slut.”

She pushes your panties to the side and rubs two fingers over you, teasing your clit and sliding them between your folds. “You’re so wet already,” She laughs in your ear before leaning in to suck at the lobe. “So needy. So… Pathetic.” All you can do is nod in agreement and gasp at the sensation of her teasing you, her fingers circling your clit before pushing inside you. The little whines coming from you only make her laugh harder, the sound purely mocking as she spreads you open on her large fingers. Your hips begin to twitch with the need to push back on the digits, but you force yourself to stay still. You’ve already been told off for moving.

She fucks you on her fingers with fast, deep pumps for another minute before sliding the soaked digits out of you. She ignores your sounds of protest, gives a warning swat to your ass, and reaches back to start pulling her own pants open. You swallow hard and lick your dry lips, fighting a losing battle against the urge to glance back and peek at her. Before you can even look over your shoulder, you feel the head of her cock starting to press against your entrance, and squeak when she suddenly slams it inside you.

“Larissa—” You gasp, your head dropping down as you try to wrap your mind around the sudden fullness.

“Shhh,” She nips at your earlobe. With a tight grip on your waist, she pulls out halfway before shoving back in. Her little groans in your ear betray how it makes her feel, even as she tries to keep her composure.

Larissa’s body presses you further into the desk until her breasts are flush against your back and your own are squished against the wood. You can’t resist pushing back anymore, and this seems to set her off into a quick, brutal rhythm.

“Christ,” She moans, her hips slapping against your ass as she fucks you the way you deserve. “Fuck, that’s so good. You’re so tight.. So warm. This is what you wanted, isn’t it? For me to give you attention?”

“Yes,” You gasp, resting your cheek against the cold wood of the desk and taking everything she gives you. “Yes. Gods, yes, this is what I wanted.”

“Then why didn’t you say that, hmm? Instead of pouting and throwing a fit like a child,” She punctuates those words with a harsh thrust, making you cry out as you melt in her hold.

“M’sorry,” You whimper, your hands desperately clawing at the desk for some support as she drags your body back into each hard snap of her hips.

“You’re not sorry at all, pet,” Larissa giggles, before continuing in a low, scolding purr right in your ear. “Don’t scratch up my desk. It was very expensive.”

Her cock plunges deep inside you with every sharp thrust, hitting that perfect spot over and over and over again. You can’t hold back anymore and allow yourself to meet her halfway each time, angling your hips to take her deeper.

“Desperate little thing,” Larissa laughs between panting moans. She pulls your hair to bring your face away from the desk while her other hand grips at your chin and turns your head to the side. “Look at yourself in the mirror, darling. Do you see how needy you look? So cute.”

The sight of yourself in the mirror brings about a mixture of embarrassment and exhilaration. You look completely wrecked. Your face is flushed and sweaty, your eyes rolling back a little each time she pushes her length deeper inside you. It looks as though your mind has completely broken and you’ve fallen apart, leaving you a whimpering mess in her hold. She, on the other hand, doesn’t have a single white hair out of place. She looks perfect and composed, as always.

“Poor thing, you look so fucked out already,” Larissa coos and slips her hand over your stomach, letting it trail down between your legs. Part of you wants to stare at where your bodies connect, but the larger part wins out and you squeeze your eyes shut out of humiliation. Larissa growls softly when she sees this and pinches your clit between her index and middle finger. “Eyes open, pet. I want you to watch yourself being pushed over the brink.”

Her warning words force your eyes to snap back open, no matter how embarrassing it feels.

“Good girl,” Larissa whispers and kisses affectionately at the back of her neck as her fingertips rub you quickly. The sensation of her fingers against your clit paired with her thrusting inside you shoves you into a climax almost instantly, and she lets out a delighted sound when she feels you clenching around her. She fucks into you like its her job, the feeling of you cumming on her cock sending her into a frenzy. She kisses and sucks at your neck, leaving you a mess of red lipstick and hickeys. Your body twitches hard as it tingles from head to toe, any remaining concentration leaving you completely as you whine and moan through your climax. Larissa’s fingers continue to work over you until your body relaxes and goes completely pliant against the desk.

“That’s my good girl…” She praises and kisses your neck one more time before pulling out of you. When you whine in protest at the sudden emptiness, she chuckles and shushes you, using her hand in your hair to force you down on your knees in front of her. “Let’s put that whiny little mouth to some use, hmm?” She whispers, waiting for you to part your lips before she shoves her cock down your throat. You choke at first, but when she pets your hair and waits patiently for you to catch your breath, you manage to relax and take her whole length.

Larissa only lasts a couple of thrusts down your throat before pulling back to spill onto your tongue with a series of soft moans. She strokes herself through it, coating your mouth in her release and laughing breathlessly as you swallow down every last drop.

“So good for me…” She praises when she’s spent, carding her fingers through your sweat-damp hair. “Come here, my sweetheart,” She helps you back to your feet and tugs you close, kissing your forehead.

You melt against her with a content sigh and loop your arms around her waist. Your body shakes from exertion as you snuggle into her chest, nuzzling your nose between her breasts.

“Happy now? Is that enough attention for you, darling, or do you need more?” She teases with a fond smile, encasing you in her long arms and keeping you close.

A mischievous little smile tugs at the corners of your lips and you whisper breathlessly, “...More.”

She tips her head back with a bright laugh, and shakes her head. “Cheeky little thing…” She hums and lets go of you before sinking down onto her knees. She lavishes a few kisses to your thighs, her lips creeping closer to your pussy as both hands rest on your ass, tugging you closer until you’re positioned right over her face.

“....Very well.”

[iamnotoriginalphil]

Accidents Happen (Larissa Weems x f!Reader)

Synopsis: When you accidentally send the wrong person a text, you didn't expect something so good to come from it.

Words: 3.2k

Warnings: smut, face sitting, alcohol, masturbation, swearing

Sitting in the staff meeting was turning into torture. When you weren’t staring down at the smooth surface of the table you were doing your best not to stare at your boss. Larissa Weems; the woman of your dreams. Sometimes literally.

Her voice was washing over you and the words meant little but the cadence, the pitch, the tone, it was all making you melt. When your eyes darted up towards her, her red lips were pursed and you thought you should tune back in. She wasn’t hiding how perturbed she was.

But the way her blue eyes flashed and her body tensed only made heat flow over your skin.

Your eyes met hers, just for a moment, and you bit down on your bottom lip to keep from moaning audibly. They passed over you and it was like you could breath again. But then you were left staring at her.

Her figure hugging dress had your mouth turning dry. Her hair begged to have your fingers buried in it, messing it up. Her lipstick deserved to be smudged by your lips.

You wanted to taste every inch of her and hear her moan in your ear and make her tremble from your touch.

She dismissed you all, the rest of the staff going their own seperate ways as you fumbled with your phone. Only one person could understand your thoughts and your feelings and would listen to your rambling text message.

She looked so fucking hot today. Seriously. She has a face that was made to sit on. And that voice. It should be illegal to sound that good. I just want to hear her moan my name. Is it bad to say that when she’s angry all I can think about is sinking to my knees and submitting to her? Yeah there’s definitely something wrong with me. But today in the staff meeting she was clearly upset and all I was thinking about was helping her work out that anger. In any way she wanted. Ideally with my body. I didn’t even know what she was upset about. I can’t focus when she looks like that. I need to go have a cold shower.

You ran headlong into a warm body, hand clenching around your phone. You stumbled back, a hand grasping your arm above the elbow to keep you from falling on your ass. You looked up, finding blue eyes sparkling down at you, lips curling up into a smile.

“Sorry,” you muttered, immediately looking away from Larissa, stepping back, “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

The phone in her hand dinged. You took another step back from her.

“Great meeting,” you said, “really… informative.”

“I’m glad you thought so,” she said, smiling at you.

“Anyway, I should go… do some work,” you said, “that’s what you pay me for, after all.”

She chuckled. You flushed at the sound, not quite meeting her eye. You shuffled around her, continuing your journey down the hallway. You looked down at the phone clutched in your hand. Text sent. Probably for the best. It would stop you rambling on and on about Larissa and everything you wanted to do with her. You locked the phone, cursing yourself for that fumbled conversation and your inability to think straight around her.

And missed the way she stopped in the hallway, looking down at her phone before shooting an interested look at you over her shoulder.

There was nothing like stressed students to knock Larissa from your mind. It was hard to think all the dirty thoughts you loved to indulge in when teenagers were demanding your attention. Reading half written essays and answering questions about the exam was almost as good as a cold shower.

You locked your classroom at the end of the day, desperate for a long hot bath and a good bottle of wine. The morning felt as if it happened about a million years ago rather than just a few short hours. You didn’t even care about food, happy to make do with the slightly old bag of Doritos and the block of chocolate you’d been trying really hard not to devour in one sitting.

Shutting yourself into your quarters you let out a long breath. A long day and a lot of students and you were ready to indulge in something a lot more interesting than thinking about how the quadratic equation would influence the future of a bunch of teenagers.

You sunk into the warm water of your clawfoot tub, leaning back with a soft sigh, wine bottle dangling from your fingers. Closing your eyes, you brought to mind the staff meeting earlier. Larissa, eyes flashing, lips forming words you couldn’t quite hear, long fingers gesturing as she spoke. You shifted, knees falling apart as the fingertips of your free hand began to trail over your skin.

Cupping one breast, you arched up into your own touch, imagining those painted nails on your skin. You took another swig of your wine, head tipping back. Pinching at your hardening nipple, heat began to gather between your thighs. You slowly rolled it, picturing the look on Larissa’s face if it was her touching you. Those blue eyes watching you as you arched up, lips falling open, her name a whisper on your tongue.

You took your time before you let your hand slip further down. Sliding a finger through your folds, you gathered your wetness on your fingertip before you began to circle your clit. It was so easy to imagine her, hovering above you, those perceptive eyes taking in every single stutter in your breathing. You moaned, finger pressing to your entrance.

A loud knocking rung through your quarters. The bottle of wine in your fingers slipped, barely able to catch it before it smashed against white the bathroom tiles. You sat up so suddenly some of the water sloshed over the side. You waited a moment.

The knock came again.

You sighed, standing from the bath, the throbbing between your legs growing duller but no more insistent. You slung your robe on, checking in the mirror to make sure you weren’t showing anything you shouldn’t to a visitor. Happy everything was covered, the bottle of wine still dangling between fingers, you pulled open your door.

“Oh.”

Larissa was standing on the other side of the door, an odd look in her eye. The smile was gone, and you had to fight against the impulse to step further away from her.

“You weren’t at dinner,” she said, forgoing a proper greeting.

“I wasn’t,” you agreed, “was I meant to be?”

“I was hoping to talk to you,” she said.

“Oh.” You didn’t have an appropriate answer, “about what?”

“About how I have a face that was made to be sat on.”

You froze, ice filling your veins and your blood draining from your face.

“What?” Your voice didn’t sound like your own, like it was coming from miles away.

“Also about how you plan on having me moan your name,” she said.

“I don’t…”

“And given you’ve made me think about this all day, I think it’s more than fair that you let me take this frustration out on you,” she said, “with your body.”

All you could do was stare at her. Her eye flicked down your body then back up to your face. There was a very intense throb between your legs at the look she was giving you.

“Or was this text not meant for my eyes?”

She held up her phone, showing you the long rambling text you thought you’d sent to your friend after the meeting. The ice melted into flames on your cheeks and your eyes widened.

“You weren’t meant to see that,” you said, fingers pressing to your lips.

“Perhaps I should come in,” she suggested, voice softening.

“You really don’t have to. In fact, why don’t you forget about it? Just delete the message and pretend this never happened,” you said, tripping over your words.

“I’d much rather talk about it.”

“Of course you would,” you muttered, holding the door open wider.

She stepped past you, brushing against your arm. You shivered, taking a deep breath before turning into the room. She was looking at one of the framed pictures you had on display, something from your time at college.

“You haven’t changed at all,” she said, flashing a smile over her shoulder at you.

“I’ve changed a bit,” you said, doing your best to keep calm. Even if your shame was plastered all over her phone.

She placed it down, turning with her hands clasped in front of her body. You weren’t sure how to talk about the text. The mix up. The way you’d tear her clothes off immediately if she just asked you to.

“I must say, that text was rather a surprise,” she said.

“I’m sorry,” you said, “it was completely unprofessional and I should never have sent it. Even if it wasn’t meant for you. And I totally understand if you need to take disciplinary actions. It’s sexual harassment at the least.”

“Do you want me to take disciplinary action?” she asked, eyebrows drawing together.

“…No?”

“I don’t want to do that either,” she said, face relaxing once again.

“Oh. Well. Good,” you said, not sure what to do with your hands, “and I’m sorry again.”

“It does place me in an odd position,” she said, “after all, when I thought this attraction was one sided I never thought I’d have to have this discussion.”

“What?” Her words weren’t making sense.

“Well, a one sided infatuation between a boss and their employee is only an issue if I try to coerce you into something you don’t want and doesn’t need anything done about it. But now we need to figure out what we’re going to do,” she said, eyes wandering down your body, “because I’ve spent all day picturing you sitting on my face and I’m determined to make that happen.”

You exhaled, a curse passing over your lips. Her eyes darkened.

“So what are we going to do?” she asked, voice turning husky.

“I’m going to sit on your face,” you replied, breathless and yearning for her touch.

“I was hoping you were going to say that.”

Her fingers found yours, plucking the bottle of wine from you, placing it down on your sideboard. She was close enough for you to smell her perfume, clinging to her like you hoped it would cling to you. You tilted your head up, watching her as she let herself gaze at you, lingering where your robe was tied closed.

Her hands cupped your cheeks, skin warm against yours. She hovered, just a moment longer, stretching out your anticipation. The first press of her lips was like heaven. The second was transcendent. The third had you gasping, burning for more.

Her hands trailed down your body as her tongue licked into your mouth. You made a keening noise, your own hands finally finding a place on her body, grasping her hips as if they were your lifeline. She wrapped you in her arms, body pressing to yours, making your head spin. She kissed you deeper, mapping your mouth as your muffled moans filled the room.

Her fingers found the tie of your robe, slowly tugging on it until it came free. She stepped back from you, lipstick smudged and eyes dark. They swept down your body, parting your robe, gently pushing it from your shoulders.

An impulse to cover your body with your arms sprung up, standing there under her wandering gaze. She caught your arms, fingers curling around your wrists as her eyes swept over you.

“You’re so beautiful,” she murmured, “entirely too delectable.”

You felt your cheeks heat as she continued to stare at you.

“Let me taste you, darling.”

You weren’t going to deny that request. She lifted you, so easily, in her arms, encouraging you to wrap your legs around her waist. You kissed her that time, needing to feel more, to taste her yourself. Her hands were on your skin and she was kissing you deeply and all you wanted was to give her anything she asked for.

She lowered you onto your bed, slow and careful, crawling over your body. Her lips trailed down your throat, teeth scraping against skin. You arched up and she chuckled, low in her throat and muffled against your body.

“Don’t worry, darling,” she said, those blue eyes finding yours again, “I’ll take care of you.”

Her lips wrapped around one nipple and it was so much better than your imagination had been able to come up with. The throbbing between your legs, not having quite dimmed since she’d interrupted your night, was becoming more insistent. The way she sucked had you gasping her name, fingers burying in her hair, uncaring of the pins within it. Her tongue flicked over the hard bud.

“Fuck,” you groaned, tightening your hold on her.

Her fingers skimming over your stomach, your muscles tightening beneath her touch. She kissed across your chest, giving the same attention to the other breast as her finger dipped into your heat. It ran through your folds, making your hips buck up, seeking out her touch. She sat back, looking down at you as she did it again, lips curling up in a smile. Your hands had fallen to her thighs, fingers digging in as you held on, her skirt rucked up.

“All this for me?” she asked.

She withdrew her finger, looking down at the wetness gathered on her fingertip. After considering it a moment, she drew it into her mouth. Your mouth fell open, watching her suck on her finger, tasting your arousal, eyes falling shut.

“You taste so good, my darling,” she purred, blinking her eyes open.

She climbed off you, ignoring your small whine. She repositioned herself on the bed, her head resting on your pillow. Crooking a finger at you, she lay back, waiting for you to join her. You straddled her waist, looking down on her.

You lent down, kissing her, hoping to convey exactly how much you wanted her. How much you’d always wanted her. She hummed into your mouth, hands running down your back until they landed on your hips.

“I want to keep tasting you,” she murmured against your lips, tugging on your hips.

You allowed her to guide you up her body but hesitated as you reached her face.

“Please, darling.”

You looked down into her blue eyes, finding them blown wide as she stared up your body.

“I don’t want to smother you,” you said, voice quiet.

“You won’t,” she replied instantly, “and if it feels like you might I’ll tap your leg three times, just like this.”

She tapped your thigh with her fingers. You nodded, slowly lowering yourself onto her face. Her hands wrapped around your thighs, pulling you down more firmly. You settled, hands finding purchase on your headboard.

Her tongue ran through your folds and your head fell back, a moan falling from your lips. She did it again, this time humming as she did so. The vibration wracked through your body, your hips rutting against her. Her fingers dug in, nose nudging against your clit.

“Fuck, Rissa,” you groaned, fingers tightening on the headboard.

You’d already been worked up before she’d interrupted, your own hand doing a good enough job. This was so much better. It paled in comparison. Fire was licking through your veins, and she was feasting on you like you were feeding a starving woman. Your hips were rocking against her as her tongue dove into you, driving you higher and higher.

You were beyond caring if you were too heavy or were suffocating her. She was moaning into your cunt, clit between her lips, tongue running over you. Her name was a prayer on your lips and desperation was your closest companion. She was so good at it. A master of your body.

The coil within you was tightening, the wave threatening to crest over you. But she was taking her time, exploring every inch of you. You looked down, finding her eyes trained on you. She gave a sharp suck to your bundle of nerves, eyes smouldering at your breathless curse. Hazily, you thought maybe she was paying close attention to every single response you had to her.

She loosened her hold on your hips, allowing you to begin to rock against her face again. But by that point she’d turned teasing, slowing down, never quite touching you how you wanted. You groaned her name, looking down at her, trying to seem scolding. Just as you did, her tongue thrust into you, fucking you like you’d been hoping she would.

You moaned, rocking your hips faster as her tongue drove into you. Her fingers were digging into your thighs hard enough to leave bruises and you were beginning to feel light headed. You ground down, almost chanting her name, doing anything you could to chase your pleasure. She moaned again and your orgasm crashed over you. Tensing above her, fingers aching from how tightly you were holding onto the headboard, a soundless scream came from between parted lips.

Her hold on you softened, kitten licks cleaning you up. You shuddered, oversensitive and still twitching. You pried your fingers from the headboard, looking down at her. She was watching you, eyes crinkled from smiling. You lifted yourself from her face, heating from the glistening arousal on her skin.

You fell to the bed beside her, boneless and satisfied. Her arm curled around your waist, pulling you to her body. The other hand came up, wiping at her face, seemingly amused at what she found. Reaching up, you turned her face towards you, kissing her until you could taste yourself on her tongue.

“Well, darling?” she asked.

“Well what?” you asked.

“Was my face made to be sat on?” she asked.

“Definitely,” you hummed, kissing her again.

She was slow to pull back, indulging in the kiss for a long minutes. When she did, you whimpered, trying to kiss her again. She chuckled, ducking past your lips, standing from the bed.

“Where are you going?” you asked, watching her walk towards your bathroom, still fully clothed, hair rumpled and makeup smeared.

“Did I interrupt your bath?” She turned in the doorway to look at you.

“Yeah,” you replied.

“The water’s cold now but we could finish that bottle of wine in a new one,” she suggested.

“Yes.”

You climbed off the bed, rushing over to her on shaking legs. She caught you, looking down at you with such fondness. She tucked your hair behind your ear, bending down to kiss you again. You sighed into her mouth, pressing against her as the chill of the air began to pluck at your skin.

“Bath time,” she muttered against your mouth, pulling back.

“Bath time,” you agreed.

You definitely got to hear her moan your name.

[weemssapphic]

Lipstick Stains - Pt. 20

previous chapter | next chapter | series page

Larissa Weems x fem!reader

words: ~ 3.2k | ao3 link in title

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Whatever Larissa had been expecting from that evening, this certainly wasn’t it. She’d have cooked for you, perhaps suggested watching a movie which would likely have been abandoned in favor of making love and staying up talking for hours until falling asleep in each other’s arms. She hadn’t expected you to storm out of her office in tears after accusing her (rightfully so) of lying to you. And she certainly hadn’t expected to raise her voice at you - she could still feel her words scratching at her throat, and it made her feel sick to her stomach.

She was frozen in place, standing alone in the middle of her office, her mind reeling. Yes, she’d lied to you - but she was protecting you. 

No. That wasn’t true. 

She was protecting herself. She was too busy guarding her own heart from potential rejection, rather than trusting you and the relationship she’d built with you. She knew this but, fuck, was it hard to shake the grip the past had on her, even now.

And you - you were probably halfway back to your car by this point. 

No. No, no, no. You couldn’t drive home alone, not when the hyde was out there, not when you’d already gotten so close to being attacked this afternoon - you certainly wouldn’t be so lucky twice. 

Larissa’s legs began to move before her mind even registered what she was doing. She didn’t know what she was going to say to you, from the sound of it you probably wouldn’t want to see her, but she had to stop you from leaving. She was out of her office and down the hall in record time, rushing towards the staircase with her pulse pounding in her ears and praying she wasn’t too late. 

Oof-

Reaching the landing of the staircase, her body collided with something solid - her arms shot out instinctively as she worried she’d just body slammed a student in her haste to find you. A sigh of relief escaped her lips when she looked down to find that it was your eyes looking up at her - your big, beautiful, sad eyes. 

Her body moved on its own, relief flooding her senses as she wrapped her arms around you without a second thought, burying her nose in your hair and pulling you close. You didn’t hug her back, you simply stood there with your arms dangling limply by your sides, but that was enough for her at the moment - it was enough that you were safe, that you were here and not in your car, in the middle of the woods, turning into easy prey.

“I’m so sorry, darling,” she whispered into your hair. “You have every right to be angry with me but, please, at least let me drive you home.”

“It’s fine, don’t bother,” you mumbled, your voice muffled by Larissa’s chest. She pulled back a bit to allow you to speak. “I’m still fucking pissed but that thing will kill us both. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

Larissa bit her tongue - like hell she’d let you sleep on the couch, but that was a discussion for later. With a curt nod, she took a step back and gestured up the stairs, allowing you to lead the way back up to her office. 

She closed and locked the door behind you, leaning back against it and watching in defeat as you picked up your bag and made your way towards her quarters without sparing her another glance, hesitating at the door. “I’m gonna go brush my teeth.” Your voice was monotone, only a hint of anger seeping into your tone.

“Darling, it’s only 7 pm…” Larissa felt her stomach sink at the realization of just how upset, how disappointed you truly were. “Would you like to eat something first?”

“Not hungry.”

With that, you disappeared into her quarters.

Larissa returned to her desk, her stomach churning. You’d been upset with her before, but not this upset. Not slamming doors or sleeping on couches upset. But then again back then it had been about Larissa keeping secrets from you, and now she’d done it again - she really hadn’t changed, had she? She tried to give you space, opening her emails and working through them - though she didn’t get very far. With a heavy sigh, she leaned back in her chair and resigned herself to her thoughts.

The more she thought about telling you the truth, the more foolish she felt. She’d been unfair to you - all you’d asked for was honesty and trust. You’d supported her time and time again, given her no indication you wouldn’t be able to handle the truth - yet she’d kept it from you anyway. 

She snapped her laptop shut, feeling as though her worry had aged her about 10 years in the past few hours as she made her way to her quarters, pausing at the door to listen intently for signs that you were awake before slipping inside and toeing her heels off in case you were already sleeping. 

“Hey.”

Larissa startled at the sound of your voice, pressing her hand to her chest in surprise. She turned to find you lying on the couch, curled up on your side under a fluffy, forest green blanket with your face shrouded in darkness, the only light coming from a lamp in the corner of the room. 

“Hello,” she whispered. “May I join you?”

After staring at her intently for a moment, you nodded. Larissa walked over to the couch and sat by your feet, clasping her hands together on her lap. 

“I’m sorry.” Her own voice sounded foreign to her ears as she stared down at her lap, wringing her hands. “It was wrong of me to lie to you. And to raise my voice at you… I should never have done that.”

The silence that met her words was deafening, and Larissa could feel her heart hammering wildly as she waited for you to say something, anything. 

“Then why did you do it?” You sounded defeated - it broke Larissa’s heart.

“I was - I am - afraid.”

“Of what?”

Larissa opened her mouth to speak, but the damn words didn’t want to come out - she was starting to feel ridiculous. Why couldn’t she just talk to you? 

“Of losing everything… Nevermore, you...” Her voice was barely above a whisper, as though she hoped you wouldn’t hear her. 

“So you thought lying to me would help?”

The accusing edge to your voice cut deep - Larissa couldn’t help but feel frustrated, and she couldn’t help the way this frustration seeped into her tone. “It’s an outcast behind the attacks.”

“So?”

“So,” Larissa sighed. “I don’t want you to think that all outcasts are… dangerous monsters.” Even as she said the words she felt a bit silly, but now they were out there and she couldn’t take them back.

You sat up, shrugging the blanket off your torso and pulling your knees up to your chest, hugging them close to your body and cocking your head as you stared at Larissa. She found herself averting her gaze, afraid of what she’d see in your expression if she dared look. 

“Why would I ever think that?”

“That’s certainly what everyone else in Jericho would think… Nevermore would be closed for good, no one in this town would ever look at outcasts the same way again.”

“Since when am I like everyone else in Jericho? What is this really about?”

Larissa risked a glance in your direction - your brows were scrunched up in confusion, your lips curled into a frown. She felt nauseous, the words tumbling out before she could stop them. “I don’t want you to think I’m dangerous.” 

Before she could register what was happening, your arms were wrapped around her torso from the side and your face was buried in her hair. Whatever reaction she was expecting, a bone-crushing hug was not it, and she could feel her face grow hot with shame. She turned away from you, her teeth sinking into her lower lip to stop it from quivering.

“Riss… please believe me when I say I could never think of you as dangerous. I know that the hyde isn’t representative of all outcasts, let alone of you.” You pulled back to cup her cheek, urging her to turn her head and look at you. After a moment’s resistance, Larissa gave in and met your gaze, immediately hit with a wave of emotion at the worry swimming in your eyes.

“I love you,” she whispered, unsure of what else to say as her eyes danced between your own.

“I love you more,” you whispered back, capturing Larissa’s lips in a soft kiss. She whimpered against your lips, immediately feeling comforted by the simple, intimate gesture. 

“I don’t think that’s possible,” she mumbled, before hesitantly deepening the kiss. Your fingers found their way into Larissa’s updo, holding her in place as your tongue flicked against hers - the fact that you were so willing to kiss her back calmed her racing heart some, making her think everything would be okay.

When you pulled back, Larissa felt herself blush. “I feel a bit foolish,” she admitted quietly. 

“Good, you should,” you deadpanned. The shapeshifter’s blush deepened and she looked up in shock, relieved when she saw your lips quirk up at the corners. “Did you really think I’d be scared of you?”

“There’s more to it than that, darling.” Larissa sighed. “Normies have been wary of outcasts for years. Even the most accepting normies have their limits, and, when they’re afraid, people tend to lump all outcasts together. It wouldn’t be the first time. I thought the issue would be solved by now… I thought I could protect you, and everything would be alright.”

“It will be alright,” you countered. “But you keeping secrets hurts us both… I’m a big girl, Larissa, I’ll be fine. I really do love you, I just need you to trust me.”

“I do trust you,” she said immediately. She meant it, she really did trust you with her entire being. “Can you still trust me?”

Larissa was afraid of your answer - it took all of her willpower not to avoid your gaze as she waited for you to speak, and she felt an overwhelming sense of relief at your reply.

“Yeah. I do trust you, Larissa.”

~~~

Larissa managed to convince you to eat ‘dinner’ with her - neither of you were particularly hungry so you sat side by side on the kitchen counter, eating cereal as you told her about your encounter with the hyde. Just hearing about how close you’d come to a certain death filled Larissa’s entire being with dread. 

“You know, it was weird,” you said with a mouthful of cereal. “When it ran away, it didn’t look like it was chasing something… more like it was running towards something but like… not in a predator-y way, you know?”

Larissa’s appetite was quickly fading and she set her half-full bowl aside. She placed her hand on your thigh, her thumb rubbing circles against the fabric of your trousers - though whether she was trying to soothe you with the action, or herself, she wasn’t sure. Perhaps both. “Did you see anything?”

“Sort of?” You furrowed your brows, chewing at your bottom lip as you seemed briefly lost in your memories. “There was someone there for sure. I… I don’t remember, it was raining so hard…”

In an instant Larissa slipped from the counter and stepped between your legs - whatever happened, it was over, and you were here and miraculously okay and, even more miraculously, you weren’t angry anymore. So Larissa just took your bowl from you and set it aside to wrap her arms around you, instantly feeling comforted when your legs wound around her waist.

“I’m just glad you’re alright,” she whispered, resting her forehead against yours. “I can’t lose you.”

Larissa felt soft lips melt into her own, and she lifted you off the counter and held you close to her. “Would you do me the honor of joining me in bed tonight?” she mumbled against your lips.

“Yeah,” you giggled. “Your couch isn’t very comfortable.”

Laughing, Larissa’s lips found yours again, and she blindly carried you out of the kitchen and into the bedroom, depositing you gently onto the bed and climbing on top of you. “I’ll be right back, I just have to get ready for bed,” she whispered against your lips, giving them a quick peck before pulling away and heading quickly to the bathroom to remove her makeup and get changed. 

Minutes later she slipped into bed beside you, turning onto her side - you were already facing her, and you reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. Larissa took hold of your wrist before you could lower your hand and brought it to her lips, pressing them to the base of your palm. Her eyes fluttered shut as she used the moment to ground herself again, your soft skin against her lips calming her nerves better than anything else ever had.

Opening her eyes and letting go of your wrist, she reached out to stroke your cheek, grazing her fingers against your cheekbone and your jaw before trailing them down to your shoulder, playing with your hair - her gaze following her fingers as the gears in her mind turned. You were silent as you watched her, not moving a muscle, giving her time to put her fears into words.

“Darling…” Larissa began, twisting a strand of your hair between her fingers. “Do you remember when you asked me if our hypothetical child would be a shapeshifter?”

She glanced at your face just in time to see a blush rise to your cheeks - Larissa felt her heart leap into her throat. 

“Yeah… why?”

The shapeshifter hesitated for a moment, nibbling at her bottom lip with her teeth as her anxiety rose. “What would you think of that?”

“Hmm…” You tightened your grip around Larissa’s waist, looking dreamily up at her - it made her cheeks grow warm. “I would think both of you would have a very unfair advantage and I’d definitely be the boring mom.”

Your reaction surprised Larissa and she let out a chuckle in response. “No, I mean it,” she whispered, trying not to let her imagination get ahead of her.

You raised your eyebrow. “What am I supposed to think of that?” Larissa opened her mouth to respond, quickly closing it again when she didn’t know what to say - so you pressed on. “Rissa, is this about you being a shapeshifter? I don’t care what you are, I love you.”

“Even if I do terrible things?” she muttered bitterly, unable to meet your gaze. “Wednesday’s told you what I’ve done.”

She felt your hand take hold of her own, and her gaze dropped to your fingers as they wiggled their way between hers.

“I don’t think protecting your school and your students makes you a terrible person.” Your voice was low and gentle, and Larissa wanted so badly to believe your words. “The world isn’t always black and white. There are shades of gray.”

Larissa swallowed thickly, nodding absently and scooting closer in order to nuzzle her face into the crook of your neck. She didn’t care much whether or not most people thought she was a good person - she was used to facing prejudice and opposition from all sides, she wouldn’t have gotten into her position as principal if she wasn’t able to shrug it off. 

But when it came to you, she suddenly found herself caring a great deal about the things she was usually so unbothered by. She truly did care what you thought about her and her actions - she wanted you to understand her, not judge her as so many others had. Part of her knew you wouldn’t, though that part was quickly and often drowned out by the little voice inside her head, trying desperately to protect what was left of her inner child. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Your voice broke the silence, Larissa could feel it vibrate against her cheek as she burrowed into you. She pulled back with a sigh, resting her forehead against yours and cupping the back of your neck. 

“Shapeshifting is a rare ability - there’s not nearly enough education on the subject even at Nevermore, I’m afraid, and not many people know a shapeshifter personally. It leads to a lot of prejudice even within the outcast community. Many shapeshifters are accused of deception and manipulation throughout their entire lives. I… don’t want you to think that’s all I use my ability for. I don’t want to be that person, not to you.”

“I know you’re not,” you reassured her - though she was so in her own head that your words did little to assuage her worries, until you propped yourself up on your elbow and cupped her cheek, holding her gaze. “I told you that I trust you and I mean it. I hate that you’ve experienced prejudice because of who you are but I’m the last person who’d judge you for that. And our children being shapeshifters isn’t a worry that’s even crossed my mind,” you added with a smirk.

Our children - Larissa’s breathing stuttered audibly in her chest.

The first time you’d mentioned the possibility of having a child with her, Larissa figured the question was a natural follow-up to the fear of getting knocked up, pillow talk without any real meaning.

The second time the topic of children was brought up, Larissa had been too in her own head to probe you for your opinion on the subject, had felt too vulnerable to open a discussion. 

This time, you mentioned it so casually and assuredly that Larissa wasn’t sure what to make of it. She knew she wanted children, but what she’d told you was true - by this age, she’d resigned herself to the fact that her students were as much as she would get. Before you, she’d assumed any partner she might have would be around her age as well and uninterested in starting a family so late in life.

“Our children?” she whispered, her heartbeat in her throat as her eyes danced between your own. “Is… that something you’d want? With me?”

“Yeah… I mean, if that’s even something you’d want with me…” Your cheeks flushed and you bit your lip - the fact that Larissa didn’t think you had anything at all to be nervous about only made it cuter to her.

“I… think I would,” she murmured, a blush of her own adorning her cheeks as the gears in her mind turned. “Perhaps that is something we should discuss at some point then…”

The way your lips quirked up into a bright smile and your blush deepened did nothing to calm Larissa’s racing heart - quite the contrary. She swallowed thickly. “But today was a long day, maybe we should get some sleep…”

Your arms enveloped Larissa in a hug, allowing her a brief reprieve from the eye contact to calm her sudden butterflies. 

“Sleep sounds good,” you murmured with a smile, briefly breaking the hug to lean over and flick off the lamp on the nightstand, blanketing the room in darkness. You settled back against the pillows, pulling Larissa with you - she rested her head on your chest, your heartbeat steady and strong in her ear as her eyes fluttered shut. “Sleep well, Riss,” you whispered against the crown of her head, bringing a soft smile to her face.

“Sleep well, love,” she whispered back.

x

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[rippersz]

𝙲𝚊𝚝!𝙻𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚊 𝚆𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚜 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚜:

─────﹒✿﹒─────

These are my opinions! If you don’t agree, then add your own headcanons! The idea is taken from the mind of @masscared-star and their thoughts on feline Larissa Weems.

─────﹒✿﹒─────

Kitty Cat Larissa Weems is a white Turkish Angora feline. One of the fluffy ones with the thicker neck fur and ear tufts. Her tail widens toward the end and is very soft of course. Every part of her is soft.

Her teeth are very sharp. They’re still in human alignment, but the incisors and canines are obviously more cat-like. The premolars and molars, toward the back of her jaw, have more sharp edges. So she doesn’t hurt herself, her tongue rests in her mouth differently and has a very weird texture. It’s in between human, soft, and the feline, rougher and tougher.

Her pupils CAN turn into slits. Her ears CAN twitch and swivel and flatten. Her tail CAN swish swish swish. She also has a habit of stalking without realizing - walking with swinging hips and one foot in front of the other like that of a model.

She has PERFECT balance. Despite her height and stature, she will not fall. And if she does, she shall be graceful about it.

Heightened senses of course. She has an excellent sense of smell. Her eyes, however, function like a human’s. She can see all colors and has an innate sense of where things are so there’s no ‘bumping into things’ unless she’s somehow dizzy. BUT she CAN see in the dark. Built-in night vision. No hiding from her at night.

Ear scritches. Yes, ma’am. Scratch her behind the ears, be careful of her hair, and she will push into your hand without even thinking. It’s very comforting for her and sends lovely little shivers down her spine. Same with the base of her tail. She won’t respond in the same… interesting manner as a cat’s, but she will let her tail curl around your wrist or your waist. She has a lot of control over it.

PURRING. PURRRRINGGG SOMETHING IS PURRINNNGGG AND IT’S LARISSA WEEMS LMAO. She will purr whenever she is content. Head on your lap while reading. Eating a lovely little meal with you in deep candlelight. She keeps it low and soft when she’s in public, happy and proud of her staff and students, but otherwise lets herself purr as loudly as she wants when with you. - Larissa also has the ability to let out little ‘mrrow!’ chirping kitty sounds when she’s excited. If you show up with lunch for her one day and she’s not expecting you, she’ll perk up and the sound will leave her chest without any restraint. She will be embarrassed about it. You will laugh and she will be embarrassed and then when you give her a little kiss, she will purposefully nick your lip and you will go ow!! and she will go 'Gotcha.'

Showering…. hissss….. She loves showers so much, she does, because they are warm and she likes warmth, but they are also annoying. The pitter patter on her ears can irritate her, so she indulges in baths more. It gives her control over the touches on her ears and she actually enjoys grooming the parts of her that are feline. Although, if you headcanon that she has a proper cat form, she will not like water as much.

Her nails are sharp. She can’t help it. They’re painted red, yes, and they can be sheathed and unsheathed (like Enid’s, yes), but she tries to be gentle with them. When she’s angry or frightened, they shoot out - so just be careful.

Her precious soft ears are pierced, near the base by her head on the outsides, but those areas are sensitive. Not sensitive like ooooo but sensitive like ow please don’t squeeze there. She mainly wears pearls in those spots, because she likes the sparkle, but little golden hoops make the occasional appearance as well. - She does not like bows or things being placed around her ears though. Chances are she will not like extra accessories there. And she DOES NOT APPRECIATE YOU TRYING TO TURN THEM INSIDE OUT BECAUSE IT LOOKS FUNNY. You did it once and you have the nicks on your hands to show it. Worth the laugh though.

She hisses beneath her breath when irritated. A popping sort of hiss that rumbles from her throat and is often heard in the quiet of her office.

She’s quick. Crazy quick. It seems impossible but it isn’t.

LOUNGING. BASKING IN THE SUN. LOUNGING AND BASKING. MMMM SUNLIGHT. She will lay across her chaise and she will soak in the rays through the windows and she will turn around in her desk chair and just sit there until she nearly falls asleep. No, it’s not very productive, but if she doesn’t get her daily sunlight, she will be a little bit down. If you find her taking a midday rest on the weekend, full body facing the sun that filters through onto the bed, no you don’t. Don’t disturb her. Leave her be, purring away happily.

─────﹒✿﹒─────

:3 - Rip x

[goddessfloresz]

Is it just me but seeing Larissa Weems being furiously angry is so unexplainably hot..

[altf4d3lete]

Episode One this is single-handedly bringing back my obsession even though it never left

- its 2022. Why is everyone freaked out bc a girl wears all black. Like people do that on a daily basis nowadays

- PUGSLEY POOR GUY :(

- “I want names” didn’t you JUST see them walking away from the locker

- Stop shoving him in a locker tied up is actually so mean wtf

- I see people use this piranha scene as justification that she’d be okay with murder, but really it’s justification that she wouldn’t be okay with people hurting her friends and those she cares about AT ALL. She’s trying to KILL these guys just for bullying their brother. Imagine what she’d do to Tyler for hurting Eugene and Enid.

- The intro is SO fucking cool

- Emma was so far down on the list of actors and now my girl is #3 behind Jenna and buscemi. She’s a main character now B)

- If I were Wednesday I’d be pissed too. I CANT with the parents. Like I love you but RIGHT IN FRONT OF HER 😭

- It’s five minutes in and I have so many notes

- Have to say again with the “terrible, they’d know I didn’t get the job done” that Wednesday is MORBID, not okay with murder unless she deems the person deserves it

- Ergh there is clearly so much discrimination against outcasts

- Weems and morticia r lowkey giving homoerotic rivalry…

- I FORGOT HOW FUNNY WEDNESDAY IS

- I genuinely can’t even like… I CANT WHY DID WEEMS PAIR HER WITH ENID 😭

- Guys Enid is SO cute holy fuck. She is UNPHASED bro, she’s just so excited to have a roommate she’s so cute I’m sobbing. She just wanted to accept Wednesday.

- YALL WHEN THEYRE WALKING DOWN THE STEPS WEDNESDAY LITERALLY GRAVITATES TOWARDS ENID. LITERALLY RUNS INTO HER

- Wednesday just lies about killing two kids to Enid and Enid just moved on like nothing happened.

- Also HELLO? THEIR BANTER? Enid takes NO shit 😭

- Hmm part of me wonders if those wolves howling were making fun of Enid.

- They’re literally leaning into each other wha

- “You better watch your back” and Wednesday is behind her that’s so funny

- How do you go from “cute but clueless” to “obsessed” enjax was lowkey forced whereas wenclair had chemistry from the beginning

- AW PUGSLEY HES SO CUTE

- Wednesday being a housewife will NEVER make sense

- I know people hate the relationship between Wednesday and morticia but it’s very realistic. You can easily tell they still love each other despite the harsh words.

- YEESH THE HYDE TORE HIM APART (I think this works with my theory that the more Tyler is aware of the Hyde, the more controlled his attacks get. Which also means that he knew what he was doing when he killed Kinbott, leaving her alive to taste her fear. And he knew what he was doing in the forest when he tried to kill Wednesday and nearly attacked his father)

- WENCLAIR FIGHT THEYRE SO FUNNY TOGETHER THEY ARGUE LIKE AN OLD COUPLE

- when did Wednesday check out enid’s blog. How and why.

- THE LITTLE SCOFF BEFORE “you mean emojis?”

- Enid huffing is crazy girly is ANGRY

- The way they just stare each other down is crazy wenclair is SO full of banter I forgot how hilarious they are

- ENID SIDE EYES WEDNESDAY SO MUCH

- Bianca lowkey eating everyone up…

- Bianca is so aggressive in her fighting style, whereas Wednesday is precise. It’s really cool

- THE GASPING IN THE BACKGROUND AFTER “let’s see if you bleed in black and white.”

- Xavier scoffs so much in this show and every time he does it lowkey makes me hate him more

- “No good deed goes unpunished” okay elphaba

- Girly was smiling when she was about to die.

- DUDE WHY WAS XAVIER LEANING OVER HER? WHO DOES THAT? JUST SIT DOWN NEXT TO HER.

- “Call it instinct” shut up actually

- Bro she had NO clue who Xavier was 😭

- It bothers me that ppl think she cared Xavier was in the coffin. She just wanted to see the godmother come back to life fr

- THING HAHA MY FAV

- I would be flabbergasted if my therapist read the equivalent of my journal before our sessions. She never should have been sent that.

- Ergh Tyler…

- The deep voice lowkey sounds really forced, idk what it is about Tyler’s voice but it bugs me. I think it’s the way his lines always kinda have the same delivery.

- Twenty bucks when he probably makes that in like half a day of work 😭

- The pilgrims look like such dorks bro who are they tryna scare 💀

- Why are they asking her if she’s “been with a normie” that’s so weird

- “THIS LITTLE THING TOOK DOWN THREE BOYS???” HELP

- Her playing with the necklace means everything to me

- Damn the hiker was the third victim

- The sheet music doesn’t match what she was playing but that doesn’t rly matter

- Love that enid went from disgusted to things bff

- Their roof scene is so meaningful to me. They work so well together. Enid doesn’t need anyone but Wednesday and Wednesday doesn’t need anyone but Enid. Enid teaches her how to relate to others and feel empathy and Wednesday teaches Enid to unapologetically be herself.

- Nero :(

- Them bonding is so cute 😭 this is rekindling my obsession

- Notice the immediate disrespect from Tyler but Enid gets close with thing so quickly

- Damn Enid is suspicious. Bro has some killer instincts

- “Hint taken” and Xavier proceeds to KEEP talking to her

- So Wednesday gives Tyler a time and place and you’re telling me it’s just a coincidence that those three pilgrims show up at that exact time at place? Literally there WAITING? No way. Tyler had to have told them, sorry about it.

- I lowkey feel bad for Weems. She’s a little controversial but she was just trying to do her best for nevermore

- Nah man that was an absolute ploy. There’s no way they just happened to know where to be. Tyler was trying to keep her from leaving. He already knew who she was by then and that they needed her.

- Rowan was so conflicted he didn’t deserve to die. He was just trying to protect people

- The way she scrambled over to him even after he tried to kill her :(

- YALL I LOVE THIS SHOW WTF 😭

[psychic-refugee]

I think this is an interesting question.

There’s a lot of inconsistency and straight up holes in the lore so it’s hard to say for sure.

On one hand, Hydes are supposed to be this ultra rare and unknown type of Outcast. It was why neither the Nevermore nor Nightshade library had any books on them, there was only a journal of their existence that Fester happened to know about…but the school knew to ban them and it was written on Françoise’s medical record?

It’s also not clear if a Hyde is an Outcast onto themselves, or are they some other type of Outcast such as a Psychic and a traumatic event causes one to emerge. I’d have to rewatch, but I thought Weems mentioned how they don’t outright ask what type of Outcast a student is, it’s self-reporting and I guess they take their word for it.

So, it’s possible Françoise either lied and knew being a Hyde was possible. Or she was attending Nevermore as a Psychic, and didn’t know she’d be a Hyde until her own emerged later on in life.

I’m leaning towards she wasn’t aware she had the potential to be a Hyde. If she was hiding her status at Nevermore, I think the smartest thing to do would have been to a) leave Jericho and those who might figure out she’s a Hyde and b) would not marry someone who specifically distrusts Outcasts. The “Outcasts of Outcasts” would be like a double issue for Galpin if he ever found out.

I also think it would be incredibly selfish of Françoise to have this highly dangerous genetic condition that she could potentially pass on, especially if her husband didn’t know and she didn’t warn her son.

I’m hoping and leaning towards Françoise being unaware she had the potential to become a Hyde.

Because of Galpin’s clear bias against Outcasts which his son had learned his own bias behavior, I want to say Françoise lied and he didn’t know. I lean towards her being a Psychic because they’re “Normie passing.”

I never got the sense that Galpin was ever angry with Tyler for bullying Xavier, other than getting caught and prosecuted. He was just more irritated or closed off from speaking with a therapist/about the death of his wife that his son was clearly struggling with, which Tyler was only doing as a court order.

Given the bias and disregard for Tyler’s attack on Xavier, I want to say Galpin would not have married Françoise if he had known she was an Outcast. He doesn’t like them, he doesn’t trust them, and I don’t know what about Françoise would lead him to have made an exception.

Hopefully we learn either way, because I’d be interested in why an Outcast would choose to pass as Normie or would like more in depth into her mindset and motivations as to why she’d be so selfish if she did know she was a Hyde.

[weemsfreak]

「 Mean」

I like this, but I also don't. I really wanted to write something to go with the song 'I Don't Smoke', however, I don't have the will to make it better, so enjoy! Larissa Weems x Reader ~2.2k words

→ Song: I Don't Smoke - Mitski

Warnings: angst (but okay ending), mention of self harm, inadvertent injury, depressed Larissa

You had never before seen her so…well, you didn't have the vocabulary to describe it.

Or perhaps you just couldn't place exactly how she was feeling.

Angry. Mad. Exhausted. Scared. Confused.

You knew her well, you thought, due to consoling her and offering advice many times after recent trying events.

You had sat by her and learned the way that the crease between her eyebrows deepened as she thought, the way her upper lip twitched when she was angry, trying her absolute hardest not to spew her words like a volcano; the way her eyes widened as her brain registered shock, then narrowed as the cogs turned in her head.

You have been there for her willingly, gladly, happily. Happy to help, happy to make her feel at least a bit better about Nevermore, about herself.

And tonight was no different, except for one thing.

You were nervous.

You had never been nervous before.

But before, you knew what she was feeling through her telltale signs.

This was not like before; for her lip didn’t twitch, her eyes didn't widen, the crease between her eyebrows didn't deepen, she didn't holler.

In an unfamiliar way, she looked furious, enraged, but she was quiet.

She was quiet.

You stood outside of Nevermore's main doors lighting a smoke. You hoped it would calm your nerves before you made your way to find her, unsure of how you would, or wouldn't, be greeted.

'I don't smoke, except for when I'm missing you.'

You supposed it reminded you of her.

With a shaky hand you knocked lightly on her office doors, eyes darting around the hallway.

It was eerily silent.

You knocked again, perhaps you had been too quiet.

You knew she was in her office, everyone did. It was all that you noticed, when she had left without a word, heels loud against the cold floor and arms stiff by her sides, chin tucked instead of held high, lacking the usual sway of her hips.

You knocked for a third time, and of course, the door was locked. 

Rolling your eyes at her silence, you ventured outside and climbed up the side of the building. Pressing your forehead against the glass doors, you peered around, and found nothing. Confused and distraught, you tried the handle and it opened. You entered her office.

Standing with a hand on her hip, she stared at the doors on which you had just knocked. She was still, so she must have stopped pacing.

"Larissa."

She stiffened at your flat tone, hands falling into fists at her side.

"Leave."

It was a demand, but it entirely lacked her usual demanding tone.

Your eyes widened as you peered around the office nervously, in contemplation, finding a pack of cigarettes scattered on her desk and shattered glass on the floor.

You bit at your bottom lip, feeling an unsettling tension build in your chest.

You would not leave, you never had before, you had never stayed away, and you had never been sent away.

"No."

You slowly moved toward her, eyes grazing over her backside and up to her intricate hair.

The words came out of your mouth barely above a whisper.

"You're scaring me. You're being too quiet."

She didn't respond, she didn't move, she was waiting for you to give up, she was waiting for you to leave.

Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath, and opened them standing in front of her.

She was usually amused with your antics, you had surprised, and scared her multiple times with your teleportation; but not tonight.

She burnt a hole through your chest, staring blankly in place.

You looked over her face, unblinking, eyes red and mascara stained.

You looked over her body, stiff yet exhausted, her sleeves rolled up to her elbows and arms red.

Arms very red, almost as red as her nails; her nails were the reason for her red scratched up arms.

Your jaw dropped in terror; a moment, two, she turned and walked to the couch in front of the fireplace, light stockings meeting the shattered glass on the floor.

She sat and stared into the fireplace, which held no warmth, no fire; and so you lit one.

Carefully, nervously, you threw wood into the fireplace and lit a match.

You stood and backed away. The seat beside her looked so daunting, so unwelcoming, so unfamiliar.

Blue eyes were no longer blue, pale skin was no longer pale, and you were no longer you.

You didn't know what had happened to you, but you fell for her like…rope, shovel, hole.

Six feet under you were, grasping at roots and screaming in silence.

You knew what had happened to her, though. You knew her sadness, madness, joy and happiness. You knew her past, her present, who had betrayed her and why she ended up where she was.

Physically, and emotionally.

You knew her, but you didn't know how she felt. About Nevermore, about Vermont, about herself, about you.

You had told her to leave one night, after a very raw conversation on this very couch.

You had told her to go home to England, to meet new people, to just get the hell away from Nevermore while she still could.

You had told her your stories, your passions, your feelings, your dreams; but you had never told her the one thing that broke your heart the most.

"You should leave."

She took in a shallow breath, "You should leave."

Scrunching your brows, you shook your head. "No, I mean you should leave Vermont. Leave your stress, leave your burdens, leave your past, find a future, Larissa."

She blinked, "I told you, I can't."

She growled at you, it made you less nervous.

"Please Larissa, I can't stand to see you so…"

Dark eyes peered down, a form taller than ever before loomed over you, making you loose your breath. The fire behind her lit the room in a red glow, but all you saw was darkness.

"Get out."

You shook your head, your words abandoning you.

You choked, "I-"

"I, am tired of everyone's shit. I am tired of trying, I am tired of caring, I am tired of failing, and I, am tired, of you."

You swallowed, she was talking to you as she would a dumb and reckless student, but her words didn't match her tone.

It was breathy, lacking emotion.

You had never done a thing to the woman, other than be her friend and offer support; but you supposed when one was this tired, their words eluded them.

"Larissa, you're being-"

Her red arms flew into the air before landing on her hips.

"What?! What am I being? Hm? Demanding? Annoying? Docile? Disappointing?"

You blinked rapidly, unbelieving.

"Mean."

She didn't flinch, she didn't blink, she didn't narrow her eyes, she just stared you down. She has most likely, at one point, been called everything under the sun; but it didn't mean that she was any of those things.

With a swift turn of her head, her body followed, quickly reaching the door to her chambers on your left.

If she wanted to be alone, you'd understand. But, she was not being level headed, she was not being herself. The lack of emotion scared you, the glass scared you, her arms scared you, the absent fire scared you.

So you reached out at the last second, before she slammed the door on you, and grabbed her wrist.

"Where are you-"

"Get off of me!"

She growled, her anger was shown, it was thrown at you, and you were thrown with it.

The hand that you were grasping for dear life tore free from your grip, reached out, and made contact with your chest, throwing you onto the floor with a gasp.

You groaned, feeling a pain in your ass and back as you opened your eyes to see yourself on the floor.

The woman's eyes widened in horror, she hadn't meant to push you onto the floor, just away from her. It seemed she didn't know her own strength.

But you did, oh, did you ever.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you took an unsteady breath, so lost in your own head that you forgot about her.

You slowly lifted your gaze to the ceiling, finding the image of you on the floor in tears.

You both had looked into those mirrors many times, as a joke about your height difference, to take dorky photos; you had even imagined laying on the couch, looking up as she kissed you in those mirrors.

But, the reality was, you were on your ass, on the floor, your own sadness staring back at you with a vengeance; because she had put you there.

With wobbly legs you stood, brushing yourself off and fighting back tears as anger bubbled inside of you.

"You know what, Larissa. If you want to push everyone away, literally, then so fucking be it, but I hope you know that I…"

You looked to the door, she was no longer there.

Sobbing was heard from your right, you turned your head startled.

You were ready to tell her where to shove it, you were ready to tell her that you were stronger than she thought you were, you were ready to tell her the truth in hopes that it would hurt; but all anger left your body when you saw her.

You would've missed her, curled up on the couch with her head in her hands, looking so vulnerable, so small compared to her earlier looming form, if it wasn't for her crying.

You had half a mind to leave her there, but you were scared to leave her alone.

You had never left her before, but she had never pushed you before, either. She had never said that she was tired of you before, she had never before been mean.

But Larissa, she was never mean. Larissa was not a mean person.

Sauntering over to her, you slowly sat by her feet.

She could push you down as much as she wished, but you'd always get back up. You'd always get back up for her.

Her hands, her head, her whole body shook as she cried. Your hands shook too as you reached one out and placed it gently on her shoulder. She flinched, expecting you to come back with equal assault, after all, she deserved it.

When she didn't pull away from your touch, nor shove you away again, you leaned closer and pulled her to sit, forcing her hands away from her face.

Blue eyes were no longer blue, pale skin was no longer pale, and you were no longer you.

When you said nothing, she took to rubbing her arms, soothingly, you assumed. You sat in silence as you recalled a past conversation, one which she had poured her heart to you, and you to her.

Well, mostly.

'I just want someone, I want someone to love me. I'm tired of being alone, of being lonely. It's exhausting, being stuck in the past, in a place that gave me nothing but stress and grief my whole life.'

She had looked at you like she was expecting something, so you gave her advice, advice which she rejected. She should not stay in the past in lieu of having a future, you told her, as you hadn't the guts to tell her the truth, for you figured she'd reject that, too.

'Nobody has ever loved me.'

Nails against skin took you back to the present as you watched her darken her arms. Without thinking, you ripped her arm away and placed yours onto her lap.

She looked at you startled, wide eyes bloodshot, lips trembling with emotion.

You placed a cold palm onto her cheek, soothing her hot skin as you felt tears roll down your face.

"If you need to be mean, be mean to me. I can take it and put it inside of me. If your hands need to break more than trinkets in your room, you can lean on my arm as you break my heart."

Tears fell as she attempted to understand your words. Her gaze averted to your arm, which replaced hers; she ran light fingernails over your skin, the feeling brought you peace.

You closed your eyes as you waited for pain, but it never came.

Instead, she grabbed your hand and placed your arm around her neck, pressing you closer to herself and resting her forehead against yours.

Your eyes opened nervously, surprised to be met with blue ones. You traced your thumb over her cheek and whispered.

"Just don't leave me alone wondering where you are. I am stronger than you give me credit for. If your hands need to break more than trinkets in your room, you can lean on my arm as you break my heart."

Larissa let out a heart wrenching sob as you embraced her, pulling her to you and holding her, as if you'd lose her, as if you’d lost her.

But you hadn't, not yet, and after all of this, this pain that she had suffered, you figured there was nothing that could make it worse, only better.

So, you held her as she cried, you held her in hopes that she would hurt you instead of herself, you held her in hopes that you would not lose her so soon, like you had lost yourself and her, herself.

You held her and pressed your lips to her hair, whispering what you both needed to hear.

'Nobody has ever loved me.'

"I love you, I love you, I love you."

[jessicaslittlelovesickmess]

Act two

Pairing: Larissa Weems x Reader

Warnings: hurt/comfort but not really, Ophelia is trash, Larissa is bbygirl, lesbians being lesbians, awkward

Pt1: Andromeda

Larissa awaited as the parents rolled in, she greeted each with a smile before she saw Andromeda and Wednesday walking. Her breath caught in her throat you were still just as gorgeous as you had been during your time at Nevermore.

You smiled softly once you caught sight of the blonde, the girls rolling their eyes Larissa was quick to make an appearance. “Y/n, It’s been forever but I’m so glad to see you again” her eyes sparkled never once dimming with Morticia’s side comments.

“Likewise Larissa” your voice was soft as your hands rested on the girl’s shoulders “It’s been too long” it was becoming awkward. Morticia cleared her throat “moving along with the pleasantries the girls had something they wanted to show us”.

Gomez nodded like a lost dog, “well I guess I’ll see you later” you nodded before Andromeda had dragged you off in tow of Wednesday. Larissa was surprised not to have Ophelia with you but she noted the wedding rings on your necklace.

-

You didn’t see much of the blonde during the day until after dark, you stood on the dock where you both would once sit watching the stars. “I see you kept your promise” Larissa called as she neared closer, her eyes shining in the dim light.

“I wasn’t going to name Andy that at first but Ophelia insisted it” you sighed not turning around “you never came to the wedding”. Larissa’s brows furrowed “Wedding? Y/n/n I was never invited to a wedding” she spoke softly as stood by your side “I wrote out the invitations and Ophelia sent them out” .

“I’m telling you that I never got an invite but maybe it’s best I hadn’t gone” she breathed out looking down at you “why’s that?” You asked almost sadly. “I probably would’ve tried to stop the wedding” Larissa shrugged, you didn’t know how to feel before the blonde pulled you to sit with her.

“You couldn’t have Morticia so would go after Ophelia?” You scoffed you were angry but you weren’t understanding the underlining of Larissa’s words. “It was never about them Y/n” her hand found your thigh “sure I had chased after Morticia at one stage but she wasn’t as gorgeous as you, she didn’t make my breath catch and words disappear she wasn’t you”.

You turned to face the woman “I was in love with you but I knew I would never stand a chance, I never stood a chance with Tish either but… it was you who I had wanted. Ophelia knew that hell everyone besides you knew, but I was a coward then and the night I asked you to the Raven I knew it was a loss and I was too late”

“Ophelia had won the girl we were both fighting for, while I took lessons from Morticia she buttered you up. I was scared of rejection because who in their right mind would even date me” she laughed but it wasn’t humorous. “Me” you stated looking at her with tears in her eyes “Larissa I had loved you and I told you that night but it wasn’t the same anymore, I thought I was- that you wanted Morticia because oh god” you cried. “I had hated myself and you were so gorgeous and Tish was stunning but now my life has fallen to shit Lissa” you sobbed breaking the blondes heart.

“What do you do when pretty isn’t pretty enough?”

“Ophelia didn’t love me at first but we made it work after we had Andy, we fell in and out of love for many years until she passed” Larissa pulled you into her side “I’m sorry for your loss” she whispered kissing your head. “It’s okay, I’m sorry for rambling” you blinked tears away “it’s nothing really” Larissa smiled before her eyes glimmered.

You both sat silently for a moment “would you like to go to the wethervane tomorrow? I believe I still owe you that date” you nodded softly as you leaned into her warmth.

The next day you both delved deeper into your lives from since you had left Nevermore, Ophelia had been a doctor and you were now a writer. While Larissa had gone to Cambridge and then set a new start at Nevermore, you had gotta married young and had Andromeda not long after. Larissa never married or had children, that was a life she only saw with you she told herself what a dream to come home every day to a family and you more so.

Larissa’s gaze never wavered the entire morning as you spoke “would you do it again?” She asked softly “I wouldn’t have Andromeda otherwise” you shrugged with a sad smile. “She’s everything to me, the good and bad. I wouldn’t know a life without her she’s my girl”.

The blonde nodded along “although I did often wonder what it would have been like if I never married Ophelia. If I accepted your request to the Raven would I still have Andy I was so hurt, Lissy. You really hurt me and I let you willingly carve my heart like it was clay, I love you Larissa I really do- did but it didn’t stop my fantasies”

"I often wondered too, if I had swallowed my fears and asked you from the start would we be here? sitting so closely at the wethervane as if the years hadn't passed us. would we have children of our own or would you become that famous ballerina you had dreamed of being, I paid attention even when you thought I wasn't like when you changed from glasses to contacts. I prefer the glasses they seemed more natural and I got to see your hands more as they adjusted them. I listened to every career choice you had over the years and although I want to change the outlook of normies and outcasts a very selfish part of me"

Larissa swallowed hard "Made me stay at Nevermore hoping that you would have a child it didn't matter who with as long as I would get to see you one last time". You looked at her with tears in your eyes but a goofy grin "You're the principal Larissa, you could've just held a reunion but you truly are the sweetest soul I have ever met and I'm sorry I didn't try to reach out my geeky girl".

"Do you think we could ever try again?" she asked with a light blush as she ducked her head slightly "Slowly but surely"

[alder-saan]

His sister...

Larissa x normie! fem! reader

OKAY this is the second time I post it bcz... well that was a wip and I posted it... I hate myself right now. Anyway I have to re-wright it. All of it. But that's okay :) (no that's not I wanna end myself)

Warnings : smut (that's the first time I write smut lol (the second as I already wrote this fic)) (the smut isn't with Larissa)

You are Larissa's brother's wife.

word count: ~3000

(I know this will look a bit like Mme Bovary, but... well, it's not a classic of French literature for nothing)

You had married Philip Weems two months earlier. You didn’t love him. He was eleven years older than you, and not really your type. In fact you didn’t really choose to be his wife and to live in his house. Your father and him wanted to reunite their companies, and you were only there to make it look less commercial. You were here to give an heir. Lovely mission, you were not a woman anymore, you were a baby machine. He had flirted with you before you took the deal, probably to build up your confidence and make it easier for you to accept the situation, but now that you were his, he didn't pay any attention to you.

In his big house, your life was boring. You didn't have a degree, school was never really for you and because your father was rich, you never had to work. So naturally you had resumed reading. It allowed you to live a different life through the eyes of all the characters. And all day long you would read more and more of those mushy novels, dreaming of a life that was no longer available to you. You also started writing, but without telling anyone. It was a bit of a secret. You wrote the romantic stories you imagined all day. And then every day you went out to see your friends in a café in your neighbourhood.

“I promise, Jess’, he doesn’t bother me. I mean, he’s respectful. And I don’t need to work. A win is a win.”

Your friend Jessica narrowed her eyes.

“You sure ? I mean… you always told me you wanted to marry the love of your life when you’d find him.”

“I was younger, Jess’. I don’t believe in this bullshit anymore.”

Yes, you did believe it. You wanted to cry about it. You wanted to know Love. The Real Love. You wanted to meet him by accident in a library, or in a hostel, on the other side of the world. You wanted him to be young, at the same age as you, and you wanted him to love you.

You also wanted to work, to earn your own money.

“Respectful, okay but is he good?” Mary asked

“He is kind, if this is your question.” You pretended not to understand.

“You know what I mean, Y/N.”

“Not really, I doubt he is really interested in me. I mean I am probably too young for him. We just do it because that was a part of the contract, but he never makes me finish. Anyway I don’t need him for that.”

“You don’t love him and he doesn’t look after you. What a nightmare…” Jessica said.

“That’s not that bad. I don't have to worry about money, I have all my days to myself. I can look after myself.“

That wasn’t a positive thing in your opinion. You wanted to be independent. You wanted to be able to do whatever you could want. This made you feel like you were an object, some kind of trophy that he could show off at the parties you attended. You were there to be beautiful and to be silent. 

No, the real positive thing was that you now understood your mother, and why she left you when you were a child. Your father always told you she was a bad mother and she didn’t love you. And before you got married, you were mad at her. But you knew, now you were married to a man you didn’t love. She didn’t love you, but she probably never wanted this marriage nor a child. You were thinking of leaving once you'd given Philip a child, the way she did before.

You wanted to find her, and to talk to her. You wanted to know the story of her life, of her marriage to your father. You also wanted to tell her that you understood her, and that you were no longer angry at her for abandoning you. If she hadn't wanted to be your mother, you wanted her to be your friend, because you were going through something she had gone through too..

“Alright girls, I gotta go. See you tomorrow!” You waved at them and left the café after paying for your drink.

It was time for you to go back to your home. Your husband would be home in less than half an hour. You had to help Livia cook. It wasn't in the contract, but you wanted to do it. Livia, although she spoke very little English, made you feel less lonely. She spoke to you in her half-Spanish English about her travels with her family. Even though she often told the same stories, you liked to hear her talk about places you had never seen. Especially when she talked about the sea of clouds over the Sierra Madre. You dreamed of going there. She told you that when she came back to visit her parents, she could take you there. But you knew your husband wouldn't let you go... And then you helped her to speak better English, she had made progress in the last two months. She taught you Spanish too, but for now, the only things you could say were "Soy Y/N, no me gusta mi marido" and some names of foods and ingredients.

Then, your husband would go home, and you would have dinner. He would watch tv, and the both of you would go to bed, and you would have to fuck. 

Soon, he would fall asleep next to you.

And every night, after that, you used to imagine another man. Sometimes it was an explorer who would tell you about his many journeys, a writer who would make you read his most intimate texts, a painter who would take you for his muse... 

But that night, he was a sailor. A handsome sailor you would have met in the inn where you were working. He would have asked for a room for the night and a meal. And while you were serving him, he would have made a few passes at you, to which you would have responded by teasing him. If at the beginning, it would have been innocent, you would have quickly come to the point where he would have proposed you to spend the night with him, at the end of your service. To which you would have replied with a "maybe", but as soon as your boss allowed you to leave, you would have knocked on his door.

“I was wondering when you’d come…” he would tell you.

Then he would take your waist and hold you close. You would kiss him, and it would become wilder as his hands would travel to your ass. He would gently but firmly push you against the wall.

“You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.” He would whisper. You would know that was a lie, but you wouldn’t care. And he would know it.

He would kiss your neck while undressing you. And when you would be completely naked, he would sit you on the bed and spread your legs to kiss your inner thighs, then your clit. He would lick your arousal and you would moan his name.

In your bed, you were circling your clit, legs spread, a hand massaging your breast. You imagined his head facing your wet pussy, saying you were tasting divine, his hands all over your body, caressing your skin. You were already so close and as he would ask you to hold on a little, you waited a few seconds before allowing you to come. 

Next to you, your husband was sleeping.

Soon, you fell asleep too.

The sun was brushing your skin, slowly warming it. You opened your eyes. You were alone in your giant bed. Philip was already gone. You heard the clock striking nine. He used to leave the house near seven o’clock. You stretched your arms and legs and yawned. Watching towards the window, you could see the blue sky. This day promised to be good. You quickly showered and dressed up. Something simple. Black tights, dark skirt, white shirt. A safe bet. But to add a small personal touch, you clipped a blue tit pin on your shirt. 

You always liked blue tit. Firstly because they were cute. A tiny bird, yellow and blue, with a kind of large eye liner and white cheeks. Secondly because you wished to go to Europe once. You wanted to travel to Austria, or Germany, and this Eurasian tit symbolised this dream.

Maybe one day you would quit New Hampshire.

Something on the dresser caught your eye. Some 50 dollar notes had been put there by your husband. He had written a message on a piece of paper: "so you can go shopping today, we have a guest for lunch".

You frowned and crumpled the paper. So he wanted you to look good with his guest, uh? 

“I’m not a teen who needs pocket money.” you grumbled. 

You put on black shoes, music in your earphones, and went out of the house. In the streets, the sun was warming the asphalt, and your steps led you almost automatically to the little café bakery in which you usually  bought your breakfast.

Opening the door, a smell of butter, sugar and vanilla reached your nostrils. By 9 am, not many people were left. But you would have noticed her in a crowd of thousands of people. She was sitting on a chair, a big cup of hot chocolate and a croissant on the table in front of her. Her blonde hair in a perfect updo, she wore a clear blue dress. She was looking at the window, her phone in one hand. She was so tall… Your mouth went dry when you noticed her red lipstick as she turned her head towards you. She had caught you staring in the glass reflection. She gave you a smile, and you were sure your cheeks became as red as her lips. You turned your head to the counter to order, removing your earphones.

Were you just staring at a woman?

Did she just smile at you?

You glanced over your shoulder. She was still looking at you, her blue eyes fixed on you, crossing her legs. She took a sip in her cup.

“Hot…” you whispered.

“Excuse me, Y/N?” the waiter asked.

“Yes-yes, Nicolas, er, I-I want a-a hot chocolate please. And… and, er… a profiterole please. Takeaway.”

“Ready in a second.”

You couldn’t stand her look, it made your knees go weak. Was it what Jess called a “gay panic?”. You had to know and tipped a message.

: Hey, Jess

: What exactly is a gay panic?

She was quick to respond.

J: When you look at a girl and you want to like… kiss her. Immediately. And you can’t function properly bcz you think about her kissing you.

J: Why?

: There is this woman at Nic’ and Jane

: I never felt like this for a woman.

: She’s so beautiful, I want her lipstick on my lips and on my throat right now.

J: Oh my god

J: You’re gay!

: Am I?

J: You ARE.

“Y/N?” Nicolas said.

“Uh? Yes, it’s me”

“I have your hot chocolate and your profiterole.”

“Thanks”

“Is everything okay? You seem distracted…”

“Yeah, I’m fine, thank you. Is it okay if I pay later? I forgot my wallet at home.”

“Of course, whenever you want.”

You took the paper bag he handed to you and went out of the café-bakery. The fresh air was really needed. You put your earphones back on.

Who was she?

You had never seen her. 

Walking the street, you arrived in the big park in which you always ate your breakfast. Your favourite place was in a sort of hidden place, under a badly pruned weeping willow. There was a bench, and a little pond in which ducks used to swim when you were a kid, but now, there were only frogs left. Sometimes, a grey heron you named Alex was fishing in it. A grey heron in New Hampshire. That was the local attraction. It escaped an aviary two years ago and settled up in the park. No one tried to catch it. And now, it was the star of the neighbourhood's children, who often tried to find it. Sometimes, when it was in the pond, you would talk to it, as if it could understand what you were saying. And for the only answer, Alex would keep fishing, at the other side of the pond.

But this day, no Alex in the pond. And the frogs were happily jumping in the grass. The sunshine passing between the branches of the willow tree made thousands of small sun spots on the now shimmering  water. You wiped the bench full of willow leaves with your hand and sat there.

While drinking your hot chocolate, you thought about this woman, in the café bakery… 

You wanted to see her again…

You had just finished your hot chocolate and ate your pastry when you heard footsteps in your back. You hoped no one would pass the curtain of leaves which hid you from the world. You liked to be alone, daydreaming about people you would never see again… Shit, they entered your secret garden. You sighed.

“What a pleasant surprise!”

You turned your head. That was her. She was there, next to you. Your eyes widened, your cheeks went red.

“Hi-uh… Hello.” You managed to say.

“Y/N, isn’t it? Can I sit here?”

“Y-yes, of course. How-how do you know my name?”

“I heard the waiter say it.” She sat, smiling at you. “My name is Larissa.”

“Larissa…” you whispered. Her name was quite unusual, and you liked it, you liked the way it sounded. You couldn’t look at her so you just fixed the water.  But in your peripheral vision you saw her smirk.

“And I paid your order.”

You turned your head towards her. Big mistake, now you couldn't take your eyes off hers.

“Oh no, you shouldn’t have…”

“And you should have sat with me in the bakery. I’m glad I found you.”

“Wh-why?”

Her look went down on your lips. You felt your cheeks warming.

“I don’t know” she said “I thought you could show me a good time…”

“I-I want to pay you back.”

“You don’t have to.”

“But I want to.”

“Mh, if you really want to, there is something you could do.”

“And what is it?”

Her hand approached your cheek. You held your breath. Was she about to kiss you? Your heart hammered in your chest as she stared again at your lips. 

“I-I am a married woman.”

She froze. You held your breath. The wind blew and some willow leaves fell on you, the frogs and the pond.

“I’m sorry. I think I misunderstood your signals” She gave you a soft smile.

She started to pull her hand away from your cheek but you held it back.

“No you didn’t. I-I just thought that was unfair not to tell you.”

“I don’t understand…”

“That’s not a love marriage. I don’t love him, he doesn’t love me.”

“Oh. I’m so sorry.”

You shook your head. You didn’t like this pity gaze on you.

“Don’t. That’s okay.”

“You know, I was almost forced into a marriage, so I think I can understand what you feel.”

Her? Her, forced into a marriage? You suddenly felt understood, and safe with her. She took your hand.

“My former fiancé learnt I wasn’t a normie and refused the marriage.”

“What do you mean by a normie? You mean straight?”

“Yeah, I mean straight.” She didn’t want to tell you she was an outcast.

“To be honest I learnt I wasn’t today.”

“Am I your gay awakening?” Her smile grew bigger as you nodded.

She kissed you. Her lips were soft. Both of her hands on your cheeks, yours were on her hips. She left a last kiss on your cheekbone and smiled.

“How about a walk? Maybe you could show me the city.” She said.

“Of course, follow me.” You smiled.

You stood up and the both of you came out from under the willow.

“What was yours?” you asked, leading her on a path in the park.

“My gay awakening?”

“Yes”

You looked at her looking at the big trees. 

“My brother’s first girlfriend. He always had good tastes in women. By the way, are you from this town? Because I’m visiting him, and he said he would send me the address but he seemed to have forgotten. Can’t blame him, he has a lot of work.”

“Yes, of course, I live in the neighbourhood. I might know him, what’s his name?”

“Philip Weems.”

You frowned. What did she say?

“I didn’t hear, can you repeat, please?”

“His name is Philip Weems.”

That was official, you just kissed your husband’s sister. What were you supposed to say? Was she the guest for lunch? 

“Are you okay? If you don’t know where he lives, that’s okay.”

“I know where he lives.”

“Good morning Mrs Weems” a gardener said.

“Goo-good morning, Mr Johnson. How are you today?” you replied.

Larissa frowned. Did she know him?

And you cursed him for saying that right now.

“I’m fine, and you?”

“I’m fine.”

And he continued sweeping the path beside you.

“Mrs Weems, uh? You’re Philip’s wife.”

“I am.”

She chuckled.

“That only makes you more attractive…”

_______________________________________________

Hope you enjoyed <3

[creative-caramel-coffee]

hi can you please do something where reader gets in trouble so has to go to weems office for a meeting but she wakes up with the cold/flu and still drags herself there, shes barely paying attention to the lecture shes getting on behaviour but weems is so annoyed she doesnt notice until her sneezes/sniffles give her away despite reader being adamant shes fine? leading to some soft taking care of by weems?

Sickness and Spiders

Pairings: Weems x Reader (platonic)

Word count: 1.3K

Summary: You get in trouble for something you didn’t fully understand, the whole time your feeling sick as and Weems is yet too notice.

TW: vomiting, flu symptoms, spiders (mentioned), fainting (mentioned), lectures, fever

A/n loved this request, hope you do too :)

I mean was it really your fault, had you known Wednesday was going to use the spiders to torment Bianca you would have never given them to her. You should have known better, yes. But the classes you had all afternoon, had seemed to numb your already aching mind. Yoko had been sick a few days ago and was starting to get over it, her vampire immune system reducing the flu to a simple cold. However, being around her in close quarters for days on end as the two of you shared a dorm meant you had gotten her “cold.”

After Wednesday had accidentally outted your (unknowing and unwilling) involvement in her plot, you had spent the afternoon in detention. Which you had spent staring at the wall with a blank look as your head seemed to have invisible hands stuff your sinuses and skull with cotton and sand. You had barely even registered being let out before you stumbled down the hall to your dorm which luckily wasn’t too far. You had to see the principal tomorrow morning as she had spent the afternoon dealing with Wednesday and her punishment. Maybe you could plead your case and …. That would never work.

You stumbled over to your bed curling up on-top of the sheets deciding to forgo dinner as your stomach churned at the room seemed to be freezing. You fell asleep at five in the afternoon still in your uniform and hair done up.

It had barely felt like five minutes before you felt hands shaking your shoulder. Blearily you looked up at the attacker through have lidded eyes. Your head was pounding, and your stomach churned. You couldn’t breathe through your nose at all and somehow at the same time it was running down your top lip. Your lips were chapped, and your eyes glazed with the haze of fever.

Darting your tongue out to try and rehydrate your lips you blinked up as you realised Yoko was standing over you.

“Dude. Jeez you look like hell. Are you ok?” She asked and you wiped your nose on your sleeve which made her wince and let out a deep and throaty yes, your voice surprising you at how congested you sounded.

“If you say so. Weems wanted you in her office ten minutes ago. But you should probably-“ you launched off the bed and stumbled righting yourself against the wall and took off down the hall still in yesterdays crumpled uniform.

“-stay here.” Yoko finished looking at your empty bed with a frown.

You did your best to stand upright as you knocked on the door, swaying slightly. Suddenly the door flew open with an angry looking Weems saying there. At the sudden movement your head swam, and you took a step back. Weems took this as an escape attempt and grabbed your arm pulling you inside. You stumbled and weems thrust you into the chair in-front of her desk.

She barely looked at you as she began to lecture.

“I expect this kind of thing from Wednesday, you however Y/n… have been one of my most promising students. I worry what would happen if you chose to follow a path like Ms Addams. I should suspend you; those spiders scared half the first years to death. One actually fainted. She would be concussed if Ms Thornhill hadn’t caught her…” Weems continued to rant as you tried and failed to listen. You had zoned out looking at the stuffed crow on her bookshelf. Eyes still glassy. Your stomach was churning something awful, and you lifted you sleeve, sniffling and wiping your nose on your already wet sleeve. You grimaced at the texture and brought a hand to rest over your stomach. It hurt a lot as it did flips and gurgled angrily.

Weems was pacing now, still not looking at you as she went on and on about how disappointed she was with you. But it sounded like she was underwater. Noise was distorted as your fever raged, messing with your senses and perception of reality. You swayed where you sat using one hand to grip the edge of the desk to stop yourself falling out of the chair. You stifled a sneeze in your elbow grimiaing as it made your head pound with newfound force. It felt like your heart had been moved to between your ears as it was all you could hear.

You sat trying to stabilise your breathing as saliva began to gather in your mouth. You were feeling worse and worse.

Weems froze her back to you, her lecture stopping as she heard you gag. Unfreezing she spun on her heels just in time to watch you throw up in your own lap. For the first time that day she looked at you. You had deep bags under your eyes. Forehead covering a sheen of sweat. Eye glassy. Nose and cheeks pink and skin pale. Drooping eyelids and now dressed in a sicked-on uniform.

Her anger melted in an instant and she crossed the office in a few strides. Perks of being tall. She knelt next to you and looked into your eyes which moved sluggishly to meet hers.

“Oh darling.” She said turning and grabbing some tissues off her desk to wipe your chin clean. You let out a heartbreaking whimper and buried your face in your hands.

“Sh shhh. None of that now sweetheart.” She said and pried your hands off. She felt your face for a fever frowning as she felt a very present and very hot one raging under your pale and flushed skin.

“Sit tight for me darling.” She said and you gave a weak nod. She quickly left and returned with a towel, a plastic bag and a change of what looked like her old clothes. She peeled your uniform off you carefully throwing it in the bag. She wrapped you in the towel still in your underwear as she wiped you clean with a wet rag. Once you felt slightly better, she tapped your arm.

“Arms up sweetie.” She said and you complied slowly. She wrestled the short onto you and you let her. After a minute she pressed a thermometer to your lips which you accepted. Finding your fever too high for her liking weems gathered some more supplies and fed you some medicine. Figuring you had to the flu and most likely threw up from the fever and nausea.

Gently she guided you to the couch and laid a towel down for you to sleep in case you didn’t make it to the bathroom again if you felt sick again later. She placed a bucket next to the couch and wiped the sweaty hair from your eyes. With a hand she cupped your cheek as you began to fall asleep.

“Im sorry darling. I should have known something was wrong when your name came up.” She said softly. “I know you would never do that in your right mind.” She rubber her thumb over your cheek bone and you nuzzled into her hand.

“‘M s’rry. I di’nt know she’s gonna throw them at the fi’st yea’s” you slurred tired and weems chuckled softly.

“Im sure you didn’t darling. Now rest.” She said and patted your cheek before removing her hand and going to stand up.

“Stay.” You said weakly grabbing her hand.

“Of course, darling. Let me just grab my laptop.” She said going over to her desk before returning and sitting opposite you.

“Close your eyes my darling, you need sleep. I’ll be right here if you need me.”

“G’night mama.” You said confused from the fever. Weems froze before softening.

“Goodnight sweetheart.” She said fighting tears that you saw her as a mother.

MASTERLIST

[weemssapphic]

You Make Me Feel

Larissa Weems x f!reader

Summary: At 49 years old, Larissa Weems is the principal of Nevermore Academy - a successful career woman whose dominating energy demands respect from everyone she comes into contact with. She is also a virgin. What happens when she finally meets someone who wants to have sex (and so much more) with her?

Words: ~6.6 | ao3 link in title

Content/warnings: virgin!Larissa, internalized homophobia, hurt/comfort, nsfw (sickeningly sweet smut) - cunnilingus, vaginal fingering

A/N: after reading Hot Chocolate on ao3, I couldn't get the idea of virgin Larissa out of my brain so... here we are lmao

Larissa didn’t really know how it happened - the years had simply passed her by in a blur. She was a studious teenager, scoffing at her horny, unfocused peers. It’s not that she never had the opportunity, per se - there were boys who asked her out, who tried to ‘seduce’ her in that awkward, teenage boy way. They all disgusted her - she would wait until college, she reasoned, where she could find someone more mature.

So she left Nevermore behind for her studies. Here, the men - if they could be called such - were just as crude, just as unappealing. The thought of being touched by any one of them filled her with disgust. 

It wasn’t until her senior year of college, when she found herself smitten with one of her female professors, that she entertained the thought of being anything other than straight. It was a thought that had only crossed her mind once before, when she’d accidentally caught her roommate at Nevermore, Morticia Frump, getting undressed. She’d felt oddly… aroused at seeing the girl’s bare skin - and immediately pushed down those feelings. Larissa Weems was enough of a freak as it was - she didn’t need the label ‘lesbian’ stamped on her as well.

But at the age of 22, Larissa had to admit that it was strange she’d never wanted a boy to touch her. She’d gotten close once, during a heavy drunken make-out session with some boy at a freshman party - before freaking out completely and leaving the poor boy squirming uncomfortably at the edge of the lake. And so, at the age of 22, Larissa finally had to confront her very un-platonic feelings for women.

By the age of 49, she’d gone through all the stages of grief regarding her sexuality: she’d vehemently denied entertaining the very thought of being anything other than straight. She’d been angry, oh so angry - at herself, at the world, at Morticia, at the boy she’d kissed. She’d gone through all the what-ifs: what if she’d made a move on Morticia, what if she hadn’t been so uptight, what if her family had been more accepting. She’d even fallen into a bout of depression, realizing how sad and pitiful she was for being a lonely virgin who hated herself for something she couldn’t change.

She’d finally settled on acceptance. Larissa had accepted that she was a lesbian. But, through all those years, she’d been too busy hating herself and throwing herself into her work to entertain thoughts of actually dating. So now she was 49. And a virgin. And who would want to be with a 49 year old virgin?

Sometimes, Larissa could ignore those thoughts, push them down. Sex and dating aren’t everything, she’d reason. She didn’t need anyone else. She had a successful career that kept her busy enough, after all - it was her dream as a teenager, wasn’t it? 

Some days, though - days like today - it was harder to drown out the lonely, self-pitying thoughts. Days where she had a one-on-one meeting with you, for example. 

As one of the teachers at Nevermore, Larissa found you particularly alluring - everything about you seemed to draw her in, leave her wanting more. You carried yourself with such confidence, you challenged Larissa in ways that both delighted and aroused her. You were kind and chatty, interested in what Larissa had to say - she felt she could talk to you for hours.

And you looked so delicious. In her weakest moments, Larissa imagined how it would feel to have a woman’s hands on her body - and more often than not, it was your hands she pictured, your face that surfaced in her mind as she pleasured herself. She yearned to feel your lips on her own, your body pressed against hers. How delightful it would feel to finally, finally be touched, to finally feel desired.

Today was no different - when you knocked on her office door for the start of your quarterly review, Larissa had to take a moment to compose herself before calling out “come in.” Her breath hitched in her chest as you strode up to her desk, grinning widely and taking a seat across from her.

The review of your performance took no time at all - you were honestly one of her best teachers, well-liked by the staff and the students (even Wednesday Addams had yet to cause an issue in your class). With twenty minutes left of your scheduled meeting time, the two of you began to chat about various, non-school-related subjects. Larissa found herself relaxing more and more, and before she realized what she was doing, she found herself asking if you’d like to join her in her quarters at the end of the day for a glass of wine and a chat.

“Of course, Larissa.” You beamed, sounding eager - was it Larissa’s imagination, or had a faint blush crept up your cheeks?

After agreeing to come by at 7, you took your leave to prepare for your afternoon classes - Larissa walked you to the door, which she leant against as soon as it shut behind you. Oh God, what had possessed her? An entire evening in your presence would be torture for her… 

The worst part, somehow, was the fact that she knew you liked women - you’d brought up an ex-girlfriend once, Larissa had been taking a sip of coffee at the time and had nearly begun to choke. It was entirely plausible that you could… Larissa quickly shook the thought from her head. Even if you returned her affections, surely you’d hightail it out of there the second you found out how little experience Larissa had.

~~~

The afternoon passed quickly and soon Larissa found herself nervously pacing the length of her office, smoothing her sweaty palms over her dress to remove non-existent wrinkles.

Your knock sounded for the second time that day, and Larissa jumped at the sound. With a deep breath, she slipped into the persona she’d begun to adopt when dealing with the Mayor and other important figures - authoritative, even slightly seductive. It was the only way she wouldn’t crack under her nerves.

“Hello, darling,” Larissa husked as she opened the door and stepped aside to allow you to enter.

“Hey!” You’d changed out of your clothes from earlier into a low-cut blouse and a short skirt. A pair of simple black heels added two inches to your height, a fact that Larissa couldn’t help but find incredibly alluring. In your hand you held a bottle of Chianti, which you offered to Larissa. “Didn’t wanna come empty-handed,” you added with a nervous giggle.

“Oh…” Larissa’s heart fluttered at the kind gesture. “You didn’t have to.” She accepted the bottle with a grateful smile, hoping her blush wasn’t too obvious.

“I know, I wanted to.” You grinned at her, finally stepping into the office and closing the door behind you. Larissa reached past you to click the lock - and immediately paled as you smirked at her.

“My, my, Principal Weems, trying to trap me here and get me drunk?” you teased. Larissa’s panic must have been evident on her face because you burst into laughter and placed a reassuring hand on her arm - her skin burned at the contact as if it had been branded.

“I-I just don’t want students bursting into my office after hours, I…” Larissa trailed off lamely, unable to focus when your hand was still on her arm. It was so warm, so soft… she found herself imagining that hand on other parts of her body, trailing along her skin…

“Relax, Larissa, it’s okay,” you said, your face softening. “Either way it’s fine by me.”

Either way? Larissa nodded, swallowing thickly and trying to regain her composure. You’d always been very friendly, borderline flirty even, but something about being alone with Larissa outside of school hours seemed to relax you even further.

Larissa took a deep breath. A bit of teasing she could do - she was no stranger to a healthy bit of flirting to get what she wanted. Granted, her heartbeat was a bit more erratic this time, as she was actually attracted to the person across from her. Regardless - a bit of flirting couldn’t hurt. It didn’t have to be more than that.

“Would you like to take this to my quarters?” Larissa purred, plastering a seductive smile on her face and nodding in the direction of a door at the back of her office.

“I would love that.”

Minutes later, you were settled on the couch in Larissa’s living room and she was pouring two generous glasses of wine. She kicked off her heels and made herself comfortable beside you - you followed suit, taking the liberty to scoot just a bit closer. Larissa noticed, quirking an eyebrow - you laughed in response.

“Sorry, too forward?” You were still smiling as you made to shimmy back a bit - Larissa found herself placing a hand on your thigh, stilling your movements.

“You may stay,” she replied airily, grateful you couldn’t pick up on the way her heart was thundering loudly against her ribcage, seconds away from bursting. You placed your hand atop Larissa’s and she took a sip of her wine to mask the blush that was spreading across her face. Out of the corner of her eye, Larissa could see you mirror her movements, bringing your glass up to your mouth and taking a sip, watching her intently over the rim of the glass.

“Didn’t your parents tell you that it’s rude to stare?” Larissa murmured playfully, watching your cheeks go pink.

“No. They didn’t, actually,” you teased, before turning slightly more serious. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I just… you’re really beautiful. Just want you to know that.”

Larissa felt butterflies erupt in her stomach and she turned to face you fully - you looked so cute, staring into your wine glass, cheeks pink… It had been so long since Larissa had been called beautiful - she was so careful not to put herself into situations where rejection could be the possible outcome. “Thank you.” You looked up and Larissa smiled.

“Larissa?”

“Hmm?”

“I don’t know why you invited me here tonight. I was hoping… Well, I have to confess something, I want to be open with you.”

Larissa could feel her heartbeat in her throat, and she nodded slowly, suddenly becoming aware that her hand was still on your thigh.

“I’m interested in you, Larissa. Now maybe I’m interpreting this all wrong, and if so I’m very sorry - I promise I won’t let it affect our professional relationship. But maybe the feeling is mutual…?”

She could hardly believe her ears. Of course the feeling was mutual. Larissa felt warm and tingly all over, her heart pounding and her head reeling. All she’d ever wanted was suddenly in her grasp  - it was now or never…

Larissa’s eyes flicked down to your lips. Something in her expression must have given her away, for you leaned in and pressed your lips to hers - Larissa was helpless to stop you. It was just as she imagined - better, even. Your lips were soft and warm against hers, gentle - a stark contrast to the boy she’d made out with in college.

You quickly deepened the kiss, licking at Larissa’s lips which she parted almost out of instinct, allowing you to explore her mouth. You tasted of red wine and the lipstick you were wearing - Larissa couldn’t help but let out a soft noise of pleasure as heat pooled in her core. She felt you take her wine glass out of her hand and briefly pull back to set the two glasses on the coffee table - then your lips descended upon hers once more, the kiss quickly gaining intensity.

A wanton groan escaped your throat as you pushed yourself into Larissa - it was a beautiful sound, and Larissa could feel her underwear growing damp. She squeezed her thighs together for some much-needed relief, an action which you immediately noticed. 

“Where’s your bedroom?” you rasped against Larissa’s lips. Her heartbeat stuttered in her chest - this was moving so fast. She wanted to protest but with the way you were looking at her, eyes half-lidded, pupils wide, cheeks flushed - she found she couldn’t summon up the courage to deny you, despite how her stomach began to burn with anxiety.

Instead, she stood and led you to her bedroom, allowing you to guide her backwards onto the mattress. She felt your fingers toy with the zipper of her dress and push it down to pool at her hips - then, suddenly, your lips were everywhere at once. You planted urgent, demanding kisses down her chest, her stomach - your hands caressed the bare skin of her waist. 

These were the touches Larissa had yearned for for so long - your soft fingertips leaving marks on her waist as your warm breath caressed her skin, your lips and tongue and teeth peppering her body with kisses as evidence of your desire. But she wasn’t enjoying them. It was too much, too fast - she was overwhelmed with sensations. The throb between her legs no longer felt pleasant - it felt daunting, dirty even. What would happen when you’d fuck her and notice how skittish she was? What would happen when you’d expect to be pleasured in return and she would, inevitably, fail miserably?

As your lips moved up her body again, Larissa knew she needed to slow this down and confess, before her inexperience became evident and disappointed you. She took a deep breath.

“I don’t have much experience,” Larissa confessed quietly - the words sounded foreign to her ears. She could feel her nerves rising further as she wondered if you would hate her for it, leave immediately and never touch her again - she waited with baited breath to see what you would say.

“A woman like you? I find that hard to believe,” you murmured playfully, your voice low and sultry as you began to trail kisses all along Larissa’s jaw, as your fingers dug into her hips.

You weren’t getting it. Larissa felt, for the umpteenth time in her life, shame well up inside her, warming up her skin and pricking at her eyes. She felt her throat begin to close as panic overtook her body, and she tried to no avail to calm her racing heart with deep breaths as her eyes glazed over with tears.

“Larissa? Larissa?” Everything sounded like she was under water, your voice was so far away. Eventually, she recognized her name and turned to meet your gaze. You were no longer kissing her - you looked down at her in concern, brow furrowed, frowning as your lips sounded out her name.

Larissa took a deep breath to steady herself. She felt foolish for getting so worked up - surely you would think she was some sort of freak. 49 years old and unable to even so much as make out with a woman without having a panic attack.

“Larissa?”

“Yes?” She tried to sound normal, nonchalant, but her voice betrayed her as it gave out, even on that one syllable.

“Where’d you go? What’s going on up there?”

Your fingers caressed her cheek in a soothing gesture and she allowed her eyelids to flutter shut, leaning into the warmth of your touch. She found herself craving it so, so badly, but she couldn’t allow herself to enjoy it - not when it would surely be the last shred of affection she’d ever receive from you. She stared at the ceiling, a hollow feeling settling in her chest.

“We don’t have to do this, we don’t have to do anything. You know that right?” You shifted off of her, lying on your side to face her and propping yourself up on your elbow. When Larissa failed to meet your gaze, she felt your fingers grip her chin, urging her to face you. “We could just watch a movie or something?”

I don’t want to watch a movie. I want to fuck you. I want to be fucked. I want my body to let me have this. 

Larissa nodded numbly.

You sat up, swinging your legs over the side of the bed. Larissa moved as if on autopilot, pulling her dress back up and sliding off the bed, guiding you wordlessly back into her small living room. She gestured to the couch and you took a seat. 

“Would you like something to drink?” she asked, clearing her throat. 

“Just water, thanks.” You offered her a grateful smile, and Larissa winced - she was going to need something stronger than water to get through the evening now, but she didn’t want you to think she was an alcoholic either, so she nodded and padded to the kitchen to grab two glasses of water.

When she returned you were focused on the television, flicking through Netflix. You paused to take one of the glasses out of her hand, careful not to allow your fingers to brush against hers as you did so - Larissa swallowed nervously and averted her eyes, taking a seat next to you - close enough to feel your body heat, but not touching you.

“I feel like Netflix took all the good movies off,” you whined with a slight pout - if Larissa hadn’t been so in her own head, she might have chuckled, finding you quite endearing. “Is there anything you want to watch?”

Larissa felt herself shrug. Her mind was elsewhere, replaying your interactions leading up to now, internally berating herself for letting on that she wasn’t okay. If she’d only been able to play along better… it was something even teenagers did, for fuck’s sake - it shouldn’t be a big deal. If she could just get it over with, then maybe -

“Are you more of a romcom or action kinda gal? Ooh. Maybe you wanna watch a horror movie or something? What about-”

“I’m a virgin.”

“Sorry, what was that?”

You hadn’t heard her. Larissa once again felt the sting of oncoming tears. “I’m a virgin,” she repeated, a bit louder, unable to stop her voice from rising in pitch, eyes trained on the floor in front of her.

The silence that enveloped the two of you was deafening. 

A warm hand was placed on her thigh - she whipped her head around to face you, confusion and insecurity marring her features.

Your own eyes shone with care - Larissa felt her heart pound wildly against her ribcage.

“Thank you for telling me,” you said softly. “I’m sorry if I overwhelmed you earlier - I shouldn’t have moved so fast.” You looked almost ashamed, which confused Larissa further… What were you apologizing for? Clearly she was the one with the issues. She shook her head lightly, a bit dazed.

“No, I’m sorry…” Larissa hesitated, swallowing against the lump in her throat and fighting back tears. “I’ll walk you to the door, we can forget this ever happened.” As she stood, she felt your fingers gently encircle her wrist.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Larissa. You don’t have anything to be ashamed of.”

Larissa scoffed, but she made no move to extricate herself from your grip. Not when your warm fingertips were the only thing that could bring her comfort.

“I’ll leave if you want me to… but I’d rather stay and make sure you’re alright - if that’s okay?”

A part of Larissa was screaming, begging, pleading with her to kick you out so she could do what she always did - drown herself in her own self-pity (and maybe half a bottle of wine) and cry. But when she glanced down at you and saw the worry in your eyes, the adorable little crease between your brows that deepened at whatever you saw in Larissa’s own eyes, she nodded and sat back down.

“Is it… would you rather I not touch you right now?” you asked as you dropped Larissa’s wrist. There was a healthy distance between the two of you on the couch - it couldn’t have been more than a foot or two, but it felt like miles to Larissa, who felt the crushing weight of loneliness descending upon her again as you retracted your fingers.

“You can touch me,” she whispered, ashamed at how desperate she sounded. She felt the couch cushions shift next to her, and soon your warm thigh was pressed against hers - then your hand found her own, intertwining your fingers together. Your skin was so soft, your hand fit so perfectly within Larissa’s that it made her breath hitch in her chest, her eyes widening as she took in the sight of your small, feminine hand clasping her own. She wished her hands weren’t as clammy as they were, but you didn’t seem to mind.

“I hope I didn’t scare you away,” you said timidly. “I really like you and I… I didn’t mean to push you into anything. Fuck, I didn’t know, I’m sorry. I thought…” You trailed off, watching Larissa apprehensively.

“You really like me?” Larissa’s ears had perked up as you’d said it, she figured she must’ve misheard you. You smiled shyly then, and Larissa felt butterflies in her stomach. “Even… even now?”

You let out a low chuckle, giving Larissa’s hand a squeeze. “Even now? Is you being a virgin supposed to change my mind?”

“I’m 49…” Larissa whispered in anguish, her heart constricting in her chest as she realized she was admitting things to you now that she’d never told anyone.

“And? I mean I guess I’m curious why - it can’t be your looks or your personality, because you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on, and you’re so easy to talk to… But it doesn’t bother me or anything.”

Larissa sighed, dropping her gaze to your intertwined hands. When she spoke, it was barely audible. “I was never attracted to men, so I didn’t want them to touch me. I didn’t realize I could be attracted to women until college and by the time I’d come to terms with that… let’s just say I’m certain no one would want to deflower someone in their 40s.”

“I would,” you said with a shrug, so nonchalantly that Larissa whipped her head around to face you. You chuckled at her bewildered expression. “Come on, Larissa. I don’t care about that. I like you as a person and I find you attractive. I want to have sex with you, if you also want to have sex with me. I don’t care how many other people you’ve been with - I really don’t care if the answer to that is zero.”

Larissa took a moment to mull over your words. They sounded almost too good to be true - she never thought she’d find someone who would be so calm, so gentle, so unfazed about the whole thing. And, well, that it just so happened to be the woman she had a crush on… she could feel herself nodding at your words.

“But we don’t have to have sex if you don’t want to. Obviously.”

“I want to,” Larissa said firmly, if a little too quickly - it made you smirk, and her cheeks turned scarlet.

“We’ll go at your pace then.” You brought Larissa’s hand up to your lips and pressed a tender kiss to her knuckles. The soft brush of your lips made a rush of heat pool in Larissa’s abdomen. “Only what you’re comfortable with. And if you want to stop, we stop. I want you to have fun, Larissa. I want this to be good for you.”

“Thank you,” Larissa whispered. The smile she received in return was blinding, and her heart felt just a smidge lighter. 

“Do you want me to leave for tonight?”

Larissa shook her head no. You snuggled into her side and picked up the abandoned remote again, flicking through a few more options before finally settling on Carol - Larissa felt herself slowly begin to relax as the film started.

A few minutes into the movie, Larissa felt your fingers begin to trace absent-minded patterns on her knee. She shivered at the touch - she could feel herself start to get worked up. She wondered if there was any way to salvage the evening - her attraction to you had only grown through your show of empathy, and maybe now that you knew her secret, her body could feel safe enough to let go.

Larissa turned towards you - your head was resting against her shoulder, it would be so easy to just lean in and-

You turned your head and met her gaze. “Now look who’s staring,” you teased. Larissa’s eyes were glued to your lips as you spoke. You were such a good kisser, you tasted so good. She leaned forward, focused on her goal - your lips curled into a smile as you leaned in as well. Larissa’s eyes fluttered shut the moment your lips met and she let out a breathy moan. You didn’t deepen the kiss - you simply pressed your lips to hers, humming and gently cupping her face in your hands.

Larissa felt emboldened by your gentleness - she parted her lips slightly to lick at yours. You opened your mouth for her, allowing her to explore your mouth before gently flicking your tongue against hers. She felt a mad fluttering in her abdomen at the deepening of the kiss, a little whimper escaping her throat at all of the sensations once again flooding her body.

Pulling back once she’d run out of air, Larissa rested her forehead against yours. Your hot, heavy breaths mingled with her own, her skin tingled with electricity.

“I want to try this again,” she whispered resolutely.

“Really?” You pulled back, your eyes flicking between hers. Your expression was a mixture of concern and excitement, and Larissa nodded.

You stood, extending a hand for Larissa to take and helping her up.

This time you climbed onto the bed first, settling against the pillows and waiting for Larissa. She followed suit, lying down next to you and pressing a hesitant kiss to your lips. She could feel the affection and tenderness with which you kissed her back and quickly relaxed, allowing her hands to rest on your waist and tugging you closer. You wound your arms around her and held her tightly - she felt safe in the minutes that you spent making out, heat slowly building within her.

Larissa froze as your fingers played with the zipper of her dress, her breath quickening. Noticing the change, you removed your hand and sat back on the balls of your feet.

“Are you sure about this?” you asked - there was no judgment detectable in your voice, only sweetness and worry. “Yes, I am, I’m sorry.” Larissa took a deep breath, trying to relax again.

“What if I got undressed first?”

She considered for a moment - yes, perhaps that would make her feel less vulnerable. She nodded and you began to unbutton your blouse.

“May I?” she asked. You smiled and dropped your hands, shimmying a bit closer. She unbuttoned the blouse the rest of the way, pupils dilating as it fell away from your front to reveal your lace-clad breasts. You slid the blouse from your arms and reached behind yourself, unclasping your bra and tossing it aside - your breasts jiggled slightly as you did so, and Larissa felt her mouth go dry.

Shimmying your hips, you slid your skirt down your legs and tossed it aside, before doing the same with your underwear. There you sat, completely naked, thighs parted slightly to reveal the wetness that glistened between your legs. Larissa’s own pussy throbbed with desire at the sight - she felt an overwhelming sense of euphoria at the fact that you were so aroused, in spite of everything that had transpired that evening.

“All for you,” you purred seductively, smirking as you noticed Larissa’s eyes glued to your cunt. Larissa snapped her gaze up to meet yours and you leaned forward again, pressing a soft kiss to her lips as your fingers once again found her zipper and began to drag it down. She moved her body accordingly so you could slide the dress down her body - nodding as you cocked your head in question when the dress pooled at her hips. You slipped her out of the dress completely, then crawled up her body and settled next to her, toying with the clasp of her bra. 

“You can take it off,” she whispered, almost amused at how fast you complied. 

The hunger with which your eyes roved over her torso, drinking in the milky expanse of her soft stomach, the swell of her breasts, her pink nipples that slowly hardened at the chill in the air - it felt like a drug to Larissa. She’d never had anyone look at her like that - no one had ever seen her naked in such a context, and she felt her chest flush.

Part of her wanted to cross her arms over her chest, her anxiety rising at the unabashed attention - but then you lowered your mouth to her right nipple and gently soothed your tongue over the bud, and her brain short-circuited.

Arching her back off the bed, Larissa let out a strangled, breathy sound - your tongue on her nipple felt like velvet, divine and soothing, and it sent tingles down her spine. Then she felt you roll her other nipple between your fingers and groaned - it was a filthy sound, and her hand shot up immediately to cover her mouth.

Your tongue stilled and you looked up at her with a smile. “No, I want to hear you. That was a very pretty sound you made.” Larissa blushed, removing her hand from her mouth. Your tongue resumed its ministrations, slowly causing the small, pink bud to harden, and Larissa whimpered at the shocks of pleasure that originated behind her navel and rippled outwards in waves.

“Does it feel good when I do that?” you murmured, moving your mouth from one breast to the other, and Larissa nodded fervently.

“Please, keep going,” she breathed, a tightness coiling in her abdomen as your hand joined your tongue to knead at the soft flesh of her breast.

Once you’d showered each of her breasts in ample attention, your lips began trailing down her stomach - much gentler this time, much slower. Larissa almost felt embarrassed at how her body was reacting, how excited she seemed to be getting, as your lips left a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

“Can I take these off?” You toyed with the waistband of Larissa’s underwear - she paused for a moment, before finally nodding again.

Your fingers brushed against her skin as you tugged her underwear down her legs, then settled between them. With you suddenly this close to her pussy, Larissa began to worry whether she should have shaved. She felt her nerves rising again as she waited for you to tell her how disgusting you found her - then she felt your lips begin to press reverent kisses to the little curls, as if you could sense her anxiety and were trying to reassure her that it was okay.

“Is it okay if I use my mouth?” you asked sweetly. Her eyes widened and her face suddenly felt hot - you were being so considerate, asking all these questions, making sure she was okay with everything, and Larissa wished you didn’t have to do that - she wished she could just be okay with whatever you wanted to do to her.

“I’m sorry, this must be terribly tedious,” she mumbled, her voice dripping with insecurity that, in any other context, she simply did not possess - she hated herself for it right now, and she was unable to meet your gaze because of it. A light slap to her thigh shocked her into looking at you, however. You frowned up at her from between her legs. “Hey. Don’t say that. Making love to you isn’t a chore, Larissa. I want this. So bad. And I want you to enjoy yourself as much as I am. Understood?”

“Yes,” she replied, breathless at your display of dominance.

“Good girl.” Larissa let out an involuntary moan - she had never considered that she would enjoy being called a ‘good girl’, but she couldn’t help the way her cunt throbbed at your words. “So. Is it okay if I use my mouth? Or do you want to stop?”

“N-no, I don’t want to stop… you can use your mouth.” 

You beamed up at her, before carefully hooking one of her legs over your shoulder - Larissa could feel herself being spread open at the action.

Soft lips began littering her inner thighs with gentle kisses. Larissa tried her best to stay still, not to squirm - but when your mouth finally met her cunt, your tongue slowly trailing up her slit, she couldn’t help but buck her hips into your face.

A soft groan left her lips when she felt your tongue flick against her clit - she was so sensitive, and the touch was so different than when she pleasured herself - it made every hair on her body stand on end. Your lips closed around the sensitive bundle of nerves, sucking gently and drawing little whimpers from Larissa’s throat as her back arched. She felt herself quickly getting lost in the sensation.

“Does this feel good?” you murmured, pulling back for a moment.

“Y-yes,” Larissa panted - her breathing was already beginning to get heavier.

“If anything doesn’t feel good, if you don’t like it, tell me, okay?”

Larissa hummed and you began licking at her folds, gathering her juices on your tongue and letting out a loud moan of delight. “Fuck, you taste amazing.” Larissa couldn’t help but blush again, but her embarrassment was forgotten the second your tongue circled her clit. She shut her eyes and tried to focus on relaxing.

She found herself unsure what to do with her hands - she briefly brought them to your head, then fisted at the sheets next to her. Then she felt something brush against them and opened her eyes to see your own hands blindly reaching out and grabbing for hers. She intertwined your fingers, her heart leaping in her chest as you gave her hands a squeeze.

The coil in Larissa’s stomach was tightening by the second. She felt herself growing more comfortable with every passing minute, allowing unfiltered moans to pass her lips, spurred on by the noises you were making - the breathy groans, the wet sound of your tongue lapping at her folds. When you gently circled her entrance, she couldn’t help but whine and buck her hips.

“C-can you go inside?” she asked quietly, rolling her hips against your face. You groaned in response, slowly pushing your tongue into her hole. Larissa’s walls fluttered against your tongue and she let out a guttural moan. 

“Good girl,” you purred between thrusts of your tongue. “You’re doing so well for me, love.”

Larissa could feel herself getting closer, her thighs trembling - she tried to keep her legs open but the next thrust of your tongue caused her to snap them shut around your head.

Slowly she began to unravel, her release cresting like a wave as you alternated between teasing her hole and sucking her clit. Her eyes rolled back in her head as she lost herself completely in the feeling of ecstasy overwhelming her body.

She felt your tongue soothe over her folds, then her thighs, lapping up the evidence of her orgasm. You gave her hands a gentle squeeze, before gently extracting your fingers from her grip and crawling up her body. Larissa’s eyes were still closed when she felt your lips on her own. At your tongue’s insistence she parted her lips, whining at the taste of herself as you licked into her mouth.

When you pulled back and cupped her cheek, Larissa opened her eyes. She was almost shocked at the sheer amount of affection and adoration that swirled in your pupils as you searched her face - it made her heart flutter in her chest.

“How was it?”

Larissa hesitated - what was she supposed to say to that? It was everything I’ve ever wanted and more, because it was with you… She buried her face in the crook of your neck and sighed, inhaling the scent of sweat and your sweet perfume on your skin.

“Really good, darling,” is what she settled for as she contentedly nuzzled her nose into your pulse point. She felt your arms wind around her and allowed herself to be held as her breathing slowed. A chaste kiss was pressed to the crown of her head and she smiled against your skin. 

You shifted next to her, wrapping your legs around hers, and Larissa could feel your slick rub against her thigh. Tentatively, Larissa allowed her hand to trail down your bare waist, over the swell of your hip. She could feel you shiver against her as her fingertips brushed against your mound.

Larissa reached between your thighs and pulled back to get a look at your face - you watched her intently, pupils blown, lips parted to let out shaky breaths. Slowly, Larissa spread your folds with her fingers, gasping as she felt how wet you were. She gathered some of your juices on her fingertips and massaged them over your swollen clit, enraptured by the soft moan you let out, the way your eyes fluttered shut and your hips twitched seemingly of their own accord.

With your eyes closed, Larissa allowed herself to admire your beauty, the way you gave in to her touches. She touched you the way she normally touched herself, and it seemed to please you - your face was gorgeously flushed, the most obscene noises slipping from between your swollen lips. When you arched your back, Larissa’s eyes fell to your nipples, hardened with arousal. She lowered her mouth to your breast, flattening her tongue and soothing it over the pink bud, drawing a moan from your chest.

“Bite,” you murmured. Larissa paused, glancing up at your face - then felt your hands on the back of her head, pushing her into your chest. She licked your nipple once more, before grazing her teeth against it and gently biting. 

“Fuck, just like that,” you mewled, and Larissa bit down again, the heat within her own body building at the string of obscenities dripping from your lips.

You rolled your hips against her hand as she continued to stroke your clit. She felt your fingers encircle her wrist, guiding her to your dripping hole. “Two fingers,” you instructed breathily.

Larissa complied, first pushing in one, then two fingers, inadvertently biting down on your nipple again as she felt your walls draw her fingers in. She curled her fingers, experimenting with the pace of her thrusts until she heard your breathing stutter.

“Shit, you’re so good at this,” you praised, your thighs beginning to shake and the rolling of your hips becoming more and more erratic. Your face contorted with pleasure as you rode Larissa’s fingers - she felt your cum drip down her hand as you tensed around her, then you sighed and relaxed into the mattress.

Larissa sat up, pulling her fingers out of your cunt - the needy mewl that left your lips caused a shiver to run down her spine. Your eyes met hers, full of affection and desire, and she felt emboldened - she brought her fingers up to her mouth and licked them clean, moaning at the taste. It was intoxicating - she knew she could get addicted to that taste.

“C’mere,” you murmured, holding your arms open for Larissa. She settled into them, slinging an arm around your bare waist and tugging you closer. You pressed a kiss to her lips. “That-” kiss “felt-” kiss “incredible” kiss. 

Larissa felt herself blushing at your compliment - she couldn’t have asked for a better experience for her first time. It might have come some twenty years later than she’d hoped for, but if it meant she could be here with you right now, your fingertips tracing soothing patterns on her back, your breath tickling her cheek - she’d wait those twenty years all over again.

“I’m glad it was you, you know,” she whispered.

“I’m glad, too,” you whispered back, a gentle smile tugging at your lips.

x

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