#larissa/reader fanfiction

[rippersz]

𝑻𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒆'𝒔 𝑨 𝑫𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎

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✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Larissa Weems x Reader x Alcina Dimitrescu (NSFW; Double Penetration; Lewd Language; BDSM; Mommy Kink; Breeding; G!P)

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

It’s too much. 

It’s way too much.

Too much touching, too much pleasure, too much passion. 

It’s all warm bodies, panting breaths, deep growls, small whimpers, and so much heat that you feel faint with it. They have you stuck in between, held up and hovering over thick thighs while two sets of strong hips alternate powerful thrusts. In and out. In and out. In… out… Easy and light for the two of them as sharp nails leave deep indents in the flesh of your ass, clenching and unclenching. She shoulders most of the weight, the taller of your two lovers, while she takes her fill. Insatiable and dark. Hard, fast, and rough. There’s grunts that pour past your ear and fan against the sensitive skin of your neck, creating the most precious addictive harmony as she scrapes razor-sharp fangs along the soft flesh of your trapezius. Skirting around the very edge of pain. She knows you fear it. She knows you’re waiting. Fortunately, she’s already made up her mind. The feeding will be for another night- or perhaps later, when you’re passed out on the bed between them, plugged to keep the warmth of their cum from spilling out of your pretty body. She’s unbelievably excited about that if the flex of her hips and strong steady hold is anything to go by. It’s a sweet gesture in the long run, keeping you in place so that the woman in front of you, grasping onto your lower thighs, can have an easier time using you for pleasure. 

And she is. Absolutely. 

Larissa’s porcelain skin is flushed pink with desire, spreading all the way down to the milky expanse of her bare chest. She’s huffing, her beautiful red lips parted with a sense of disbelief while her eyes, blown dark with an appreciative pupil, lock themselves onto the sensitive place where your bodies meet. She studies your venus mound, the soft curls wetted by your desire, and licks her lips without thought while you watch the hypnotizing roll of her torso. In and out… in and out… smooth and easy and deep enough to make both of you exhale soft moans and whimpers on each thrust. She doesn’t have the stamina Alcina does, but that’s why your draconic lover takes most of the force… and most of the resistance. Their difference in size, in moments like this, is terribly noticeable. You feel it in their hands, in the closeness of their chests and their heights, even while kneeling on the bed, and in the thick of their cocks as they grind into you from both ends. 

Filling all that they can, for all that they’re worth, and enjoying the sounds of your broken cries. 

“P-please- can’t!- Sens-sensitive!” You scream, vision blurring with hot tears as they continue their evil dance. 

Alcina is absolutely fucking punishing. You’re not sure how you’re going to walk comfortably come morning with the way she smacks against your backside. She’s obviously not shy and only finds a sick sort of enjoyment in your answering sobs whenever she whispers how tight you are for her. How desperate. Clenching around both of their lengths like a needy depraved little slut. 

And Larissa, who listens with sharp ears and responds with appreciative moans, can only watch and partake in her own lewd show as she sees the way Alcina hovers over you. Making eye contact with those golden fires, feeling adored beneath the heavy heat that comes with the constant stare your taller lover gives her. Eyes raking over the softness of her breasts, the hickies on the swell of her ribs, the golden curls at the base of her cock… Slightly smaller than Alcina’s, and tinged pink with delight as it moves in and out of you with fervor. Stretching with ease as you take her right to the hilt over and over and over. It feels like a piece of Heaven all on its own, plucked right from the stars, as Larissa looks up from beneath her lashes and bats her eyes at Alcina. Her cock throbs, wild with pleasure, as it fills you swiftly- and she takes that moment to pause. The lull barely has time to confuse you before Larissa is leaning closer, pressing your chests together in warm, hazy damp delight, so she can bring her lips right up to your-... shoulder. Over your shoulder. To meet the pull of Alcina’s body as her bountiful chest, soft and gentle, pins itself to the contours of your back. You can almost feel the heavy thump of her heart. 

“Kiss me, darling,” Alcina breathes quickly, her voice a deep pleasant rumble brushed against Larissa’s lips. They keep themselves inside of you, prolonging the ache in your body as they kiss. Slow and sensual, red lips opening and parting, pink tongues licking into each other with languid strokes. Eyes closed, suspended in bliss, throats bobbing with the most erotic moans. You can only watch, entranced and bewitched, as a strong shiver races down your spine. You quake in their shared hold and shift your gaze to see- Oh. Gold. Striking gold, glowing beneath a heavy lid, watching you with cloying amusement. It’s embarrassing to be seen in such a needy state, blushing and clenching and eager for whatever they can give you… you want to hide away, but you have nowhere to go. They’re so warm, so strong, and kissing so lovingly. 

Alcina’s eye closes as she loses herself in your other lover’s sweet mouth, and the desperation in your body only shoots to unbearable heights as the attention is stolen away.

“Please,” you whimper. Give it to me. Anything. Fuck me until I pass out and you can’t control yourselves anymore. Please. Anything. I love you. 

Larissa is the first to pull away. She’s slow, letting Alcina steal one last moan from her lungs, before she’s settling back onto her heels and licking the spit from her lips. Slow and appreciative. You figure they both taste like wine and sex and your body begins to squirm without much thought–completely taken by the envious nature that swells in your heart. 

Kiss me too. Please. Please, kiss me too. 

“Poor thing…,” your lover whispers, her breath like a cool balm against your heated skin. You nod immediately, trying to garner some appreciation, some sympathy, and lean your head back to rest on Alcina’s collarbone. She feels so strong behind you, still holding your legs without even a tremor in her forearms - and keeping you open for Larissa, who ducks to nuzzle against your neck. “Have we been neglecting you?” She asks in a murmur, the words flowing like individual pieces of silk from her cherry lips. 

You nod, quickly, and bring your hands up from your thighs to rest over her shoulders. A small tug has her settling closer, pressing so far into you that no space slips between your bodies. Chests kissing and hips locked, the sweat on her skin glistens beneath firelight. 

The hearth is proudly lit and burning away, flickering with shadows that dance across your sinful tango. Everything smells of perfume and sex and you’re eager to feel them moving again. Alcina is starting to hurt, aching so much within her nestled spot that you try to adjust - but her hands only dig into your thighs with renewed vigor. She doesn’t want you to escape. She doesn’t want you to leave. You feel the burn and you stay there for them, because tonight that’s your job. 

Larissa’s little pet. Alcina’s little fucktoy. That’s usually how it goes. 

And the sweet peck that the former gives you a moment later, lingering in the space between your eyebrows, sparks a little whimper to run from your throat. It’s a raw sound, betraying your need, and you watch as Larissa’s eyes soften. She is always so weak for you—never able to keep up the mean façade for very long. She can tease like a motherfucker, but the near punishing pace Alcina often sets is not something she can always adapt to. So she loves as she does now, kissing every bit of your face that she can reach, letting out soft moans that make your mouth water. And when you try moving to capture her lips, lazily twisting your head, she backs away. A terrible game of cat and mouse. A form of torture that has you in near tears because goddammit you just need them to DO something alread-

“Hngh!” A strained, choked sound, taken from the very depths of your eager soul, splits the heavy air.

It’s tinged with pain, overwhelmed with pleasure, as Alcina’s cock, in all of its big glory, drags out of your hole and slams back in.

“Fuck,” you hear her low murmur before the rest of her appreciation is drowned out by Larissa’s gasp. 

She’s clearly very sensitive, instantly shutting her eyes in undeniable bliss as the motions of your dance start up again. Alcina grinds easily, producing the dirtiest sounds as the meat of her thighs slaps against your ass. And no moan is stifled. No growl is hidden. She wants you to hear her. She knows how much it makes you throb, and when that happens, she knows it pleasures them both. And that’s part of it, of course. A common point of teasing. She pulls out certain reactions from you so you can please Larissa. Your sweet angel. Bucking her hips like she is now, a mad woman made by your own hands. White hair in disarray, chest painted in lipstick and light bruises, legs shaking with need. 

They stretch you so well… The perfect fits for your body. Even if it hurts. Even if, occasionally, you wince. It doesn’t matter. You’re just so warm… So easy… Constantly ready to drop to your knees if they ask. Always in the mood to give yourself up. It’s just as Alcina says:

“Such an eager little whore for your Mommies, aren’t you darling?” 

Yes. Yes, you are. 

“Mhm… Our pretty little cocksleeve…”

God, yes.

“Isn’t that right, Larissa? Such a good princess we have, hm?” 

The response is a deep purr. “Without a doubt, my love. So… oh gods, fuck… so obedient…”

Very. The most obedient. No choice but to be. Doesn’t matter. You’re a good princess. Best cocksleeve. All for them. Pretty Mommies…

Out there, you are more than this. You are something perhaps a bit more human. A bit more independently functional. You are expected to do things. Told to be mightier. Conditioned to work and provide and never rest.

But here… 

Oh here you are nothing but a means to an end. A hole to fill as your lovers, all red lips and aureate eyes crashing into sapphires, black and white hair in complete contrast, fuck you at their own paces. Staring at each other over your shoulder, hearts in their pupils, while they use you like the two-holed toy in between. Your pleas go unanswered. Your tears go unlicked.

They use your body like they’ve spent their whole lives waiting to. And your body accepts them. Eager for their care, their love, the heat that they want to fill you with.

“Cum with me, Larissa.” In your foggy haze, you hear Alcina pant. “Please,” she begs, a sweet sound you rarely get to hear, “Help me- hngfuckfuck- f-fill our little girl.” 

The term of endearment has you exploding in goosebumps, growing stiff with the amount of times your cunt squeezes around Larissa’s length in the span of only a few moments. It’s addicting, this position. This intimacy. The mind-numbing passion that follows in the wake of their rapid, eager thrusts. An easy tell for the bliss you’re about to feel. 

“Yes- yesyesyesyesyes!- Al-cina-!” Your fair-haired lover squeaks as she doubles over, presses her forehead into your neck, and pumps her hips erratically. The shiver flows through her veins and comes to a head, quick and hard, as she crumbles inside of you. 

Alcina, delighted by the show of those blue eyes rolling back in pleasure, follows without preamble. Her thrusts are mad, lost in their forgotten timing, and descend into short bursts of strength as she works herself all the way inside and finally gives into the electricity that floats into her body. 

The feeling of their breasts pressed to your front and back, heaving with the love you’ve given them, the Heaven that’s been taken, is enough to send you into a small orgasm of your own. It’s a weak pulse of your body, too tired and hazy to register anything but the thick warm cum that floods you. Spilling and spilling until you’re nearly certain that it’s all going to dribble out onto the length of their cocks as soon as they pull out, and then dirty the bedspread.

But really who gives a fuck about the bedspread? 

They’ll just buy another set, rich and expensive and softer than feathers. 

And then ruin that one too.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Drops dead - Rip x

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Too tired for tags... waaaa...

[paarthunaxx]

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 CALL MY NAME, I’M YOURS TO TAME — 18+

larissa weems x fem!reader

word count: 4.9k

status: completed

summary: You and Larissa Weems have been best friends since your years spent together at Nevermore. You have been meeting for tea every week since your graduation. But when the pharmacy in Jericho runs out of heat suppressants, you have to miss your afternoon tea with her.

And Larissa, being the dutiful best friend, pays you a visit instead.

tags: smvt, fluff, werewolf reader, in heat, kn0tting, decades of mutual pining, established friendship, soft larissa weems, larissa weems with a d1ck, shapeshifting, p in v, nickname mommy, nickname puppy

read here on ao3!

“Here is your tea, dear.”

“Thanks, Riss,” You take the teacup from Larissa’s pale hands and rub the pad of your thumb over the painted golden rim of the cup before setting it down on a pretty white saucer. “So, anything else to catch me up on this week?”

Larissa takes a long sip from her own florally adorned teacup and sinks into the armchair across from you. “Do you remember Morticia Frump?” She asks with the smallest hint of bitterness on her tongue. It doesn't come as a surprise to you. Larissa is a sweet woman, but you don't think you've ever heard her speak about Morticia without that resentment in her voice.

“Yes. Your roommate from when we attended Nevermore?” You nod and settle back into your own chair, folding one leg over the other. You notice Larissa’s gaze lingering on them for a flash of a moment, but don’t bother bringing it up. “You’ve spoken to her recently?”

Larissa gives a grim incline of her head and huffs a soft sigh through her nose. “Indeed. She called last night to request that I meet her child and consider enrolling her in the school.”

“And will you?” You ask curiously, lifting your teacup and taking a slow sip. There is just the right amount of sugar and milk mixed in. Larissa always makes the perfect cup of tea.

“I have a duty to look after the children of outcasts. I would not cast a young girl out just because I am not on the best of terms with her mother,” Larissa whispers. “I just wish I did not have to meet Morticia in order to enrol her daughter. I’m afraid it will be too painful to see her again.”

You send a sympathetic smile in her direction and shift forward in your seat. Leaning across the coffee table, you reach out to squeeze her knee. Her breath hitches at the touch as she watches you like a hawk. “It’ll be okay, Riss. Everything happened so long ago. And if she annoys you… Just think about all the different ways you’d like to fight her, then tell me all about it next week.”

Larissa giggles at that and places her large hand over your smaller one which rests on her knee, giving it a gentle pat. The touch sends a jolt of electricity through you, which you mentally blame on static. “You are right. There’s no point in being so absorbed in the past.”

“I usually am right,” You tease with a soft laugh. “Be the bigger person.”

Larissa raises a neatly plucked eyebrow at that. An amused smirk dances across her painted lips and she quips, “Pun intended?”

You snort around another sip of tea, almost spitting the stuff everywhere. You manage to choke it down and the two of you burst into a fit of giggles. After your laughter trails off, you spend another half an hour catching each other up on everything that has happened in the past week. Just like you have been doing every week for… well, years.

Larissa has been your best friend since you both attended Nevermore. Many times you have looked at her and wondered if there could be something more between you, but you don’t even know if she would want that. If she even likes women. And you’re terrified to risk your friendship by asking her out… No matter how much you adore her.

When the teacups have been drained and the grandfather clock pushed up against the wall starts to chime the hour, you sigh and lean back in your chair. “Time for me to get going.”

Larissa tsks softly, a playful pout poking out her lower lip. “Shame. Time always flies by so quickly with you.”

“I know,” You agree with a short nod. “Maybe we should start doing sleepovers instead of tea.”

“Maybe,” She whispers. A soft pink blush dusts across her pale cheeks and she averts her gaze, clearing her throat. She nudges her empty cup of tea out of the way and rises from her chair, towering over you. “Come on. I’ll walk you out.”

Oh, how you'd love to climb her like a tree.

You follow her out of her dimly lit office and walk by her side as she leads you through the school to the large front entrance. You fit in some more idle chatter along the way through the familiar hallways, before coming to a stop on the stone steps outside.

“Until next week, dear,” Larissa leans down to wrap her arms around you, giving you a tight hug.

“See you then, Riss,” You stretch up on your tiptoes to hug her back, taking a moment to enjoy the scent of her sweet perfume lingering in your nose.

“I’ll be counting the minutes,” She whispers in your ear. There is such conviction in her soft voice that it feels as though she truly means those words.

She gives your waist a gentle squeeze and you reluctantly pull away from her. You can feel your heart hammering in your chest as your brain immediately cries out in protest at the absence of her warmth. With one final goodbye, you turn away from her and make your way down the steps, bracing yourself for the walk home in the bitter afternoon air.

ᥫ᭡

You hum a soft tune to yourself as you bustle around your apartment, struggling with the bundle in your arms. You snatch up every pillow and blanket you can find, tossing them onto the bed to be arranged into a nest later. Each of them have been picked out specifically for the purpose of nesting, every one as warm and comfortable as possible. The pile on the bed is almost bigger than you, and you stand and stare at the mess of blankets with a proud smile on your face. Although you have your suppressants, it still feels comforting to bury into your nest during your heat, even if it is just to nap or read a book. Like being wrapped up in a warm hug from La—

You startle at the sudden shrill ringing of your phone from where it rests on your nightstand. You place a hand over your thundering heart and puff out a breath to calm yourself. In a few long strides, you cross the room and snatch the phone up to answer it. “Hello?”

“Hello! This is the Jericho pharmacy calling,” The familiar voice of Mrs Jones, the pharmacist, comes from the other end of the phone. “We are so terribly sorry for the inconvenience, but we will not be able to refill your prescription for suppressants at the moment. Our supplier has had a stock issue, and we have to wait for more to come from a bigger supplier in the city.”

“What?” You swallow hard, your eyes widening. Panic splits through you like branching lightning, your hand curling into a fist around the phone so hard you almost shatter it. “How long will that take?”

“Around a week and a half,” The pharmacist informs you.

“A week and a half? But… My heat starts tomorrow, and I don’t have any suppressants,” You whisper. “I haven’t gone through a heat in years. You don’t even have enough to get me through the week?”

“I’m afraid not. I’m so sorry. We can fill your next prescription free of charge as an apology for the delay. And if you need scent blockers, we can have them dropped outside your door.”

“Alright… Well, thank you for telling me. See you in a week and a half,” You hang up and toss your phone on the bed. Scrubbing your hands irately down your face, you mutter one word.

“Shit.”

ᥫ᭡

Sleep doesn’t come easily to you that night. Even wrapped up in the bundles of pillows and blankets that have been arranged for your nest, you can’t stop tossing and turning. Anxiety floods through your veins, making your body feel cold and your chest tight. It’s been so long since you allowed your body to go through a heat. There will be years of pent up energy in control of your body, and it's terrifying. You turned to the internet, searching through outcast forums to find out whether it will be more intense when it comes. Every werewolf in the world seems to be in agreement.

The longer it’s been, the worse your next heat will be.

By the time morning comes, you haven’t slept a wink. You sigh and force yourself out of your bed, shuffling to the kitchen to shove a cup of coffee down your throat. As you stir the sugar cubes into your favourite mug, your gaze happens to drift towards the calendar pinned up on your wall. On the square for that day, there is a large red circle with a little teacup scribbled in the middle.

“Shit,” You hiss for what feels like the millionth time in the last twelve hours. You stand there and stare at the doodle of the teacup, pondering whether you should still try to attend or call Larissa up and tell her you can’t make it to tea that day.

You know if you venture out of the house and your heat comes on, any alpha nearby will be able to smell you from a mile away. There may not be that many in Jericho, but even one would pose such a great danger to you… Never mind the werewolf students at Nevermore.

It would also be incredibly embarrassing to go into heat right in front of your best friend, and have her drive you home as you gush all over the seats of her car and whine in need. You shudder at the thought of what Larissa might think of you after something like that.

Before you can even make a proper decision on what to do, an odd feeling shoots through you. You feel your knees going weak, a sticky liquid clinging to your thighs and soaking your shorts. Another curse slips out as you clutch onto the edge of the counter, gasping at the coiling sensation twisting through your lower stomach. Your whole body shakes and you grab onto the counter for dear life.

Looks like you definitely won’t be seeing Larissa today.

You abandon your coffee, letting it go cold on the counter as you drag yourself back into your bedroom. It’s a difficult trip. Your legs threaten to give out beneath you the whole way there, your mind screaming at you to lay down with them spread and just hope an alpha happens to come along. Your brain has never felt so fuzzy before. You’ve never felt so stupid.

The moment you make it back to your room, you throw yourself into the nest. Your clothes are off in an instant. Flung carelessly in a heap in the corner. With trembling hands, you reach into your nightstand and grab a small purple bullet vibrator, fumbling around to switch it on. The trusty little toy has been used many times in the past while you thought of Laris— of… stuff. As soon as it makes contact with your aching clit you whine and arch off the bed, your body flooding with relief now that you finally have some friction. You bring yourself to the peak within minutes. And again. And again. And again…

But it’s not enough.

You shove your fingers inside while stimulating yourself with the bullet. Two isn’t enough. You add another. Not enough. You sob and writhe, your stupid mutt brain and your body aching for one thing. A quick glance at the alarm clock sitting on your nightstand shows the time Larissa should be waking up for the day. You know you should let her know while your brain still works somewhat.

You lick your dry lips and reach out for your phone. Reluctantly, you switch off the vibrator and set it to the side while you call Larissa. She answers almost immediately.

“Hello, darling,” Her sweet, sleepy voice comes through the other end of the phone. “Are you alright?”

Biting back the soft whine that bubbles up from your chest proves almost impossible. The sound of her voice sends another flash of desire through you, your essence coating your shaking thighs. “Larissa,” You whisper hoarsely. “I… I can’t… Make it… Today…”

Concern rings clear through her voice as she hears you panting. “Oh? Is everything alright, dear?”

“Yeah,” Your fingers gravitate towards your swollen clit, rubbing at it slowly as you listen to her speak. You gasp before you can bite back the sound, and clear your throat. “Yeah. Just… Don’t feel so good. I’ll see you next week?”

“Okay… Get better soon, alright? Do call me if you need anything.”

“I will,” The words come out in a breathless mumble before you hang up the phone and chuck it to the side. Just the memory of her voice has you growing wetter by the second, your fingers coated in your juices as you desperately try to satisfy yourself. Flashes of her face shoot through your mind, of her large hands and long fingers…

The vibrator is snatched up again in an instant.

You spend the next hour pleasing yourself without a break. Overstimulation makes your body jolt and twitch, but you can’t stop. You can’t. It just isn’t enough. Your mind is well and truly mush at this point, shown in the way your gaze drifts towards the door and for just a second, you consider opening the door and letting your scent waft out. Waiting for the first alpha to come and claim you.

For a moment, you seriously think about it. It would make your heat more bearable. Yes, said alpha might do horrible things to you, and you don’t really want that, but…

Before you can do anything stupid, the doorbell rings.

Sobbing in frustration, you set your vibrator down again. You force yourself up on shaky legs, not bothering to put pants on. You simply tug the oversized t-shirt down over yourself and shuffle to the front door, yanking it open.

Standing there in front of you is Larissa. Clutched in her hands is a wicker basket stuffed full of gifts. Teabags, cough drops, a couple of face masks, some flowers and a small teddy bear. “Hello,” Larissa greets you with a bright smile. “Since you aren’t well, I thought I would bring—” As soon as she catches sight of you, her words trail off. “...Oh.”

“Larissa,” You gasp. You have to grip onto the door frame to keep yourself upright. Your cheeks are flushed beyond belief, your eyes glazed over and distant. There is a thin layer of sweat on your skin, not to mention the wet patches on the back of your long shirt and your thighs. “I’m in heat.”

Her own cheeks flush when she hears those words. “I… I thought you didn’t go into heat. I thought you took pills.”

“I do. Pharmacy ran out.” Those are the only words you can manage before another tidal wave of need crashes through you and you whimper, sinking to the ground.

“Oh, my darling…” Larissa coos and invites herself inside. She closes and locks the door behind her, sets the gift basket down on the coffee table, then lifts you gently from the floor. She pulls her coat off and folds it over the back of the couch, then slips her feet out of her high heels. “Come on, my sweet. Let’s get you nice and comfortable, okay?”

You know there is no comfortable for you right now, but you don’t dare mention that to her when she is being so sweet. So attentive. You feel yourself getting more wet.

She scoops you up into her arms with ease and carries you to the bedroom. Her chest rumbles a little when she clears her throat upon seeing the vibrator carelessly left on your soaked sheets. Thankfully, she says nothing about it and carefully sets you down.

It kills you to have her so close. You just want to rut against her milky white thigh and have her praise you, you want those long fingers inside you, you want her mouth on you. You’ve loved her for decades, but you’ve never felt such intense need for her in all that time.

“Larissa,” You whimper again, but you have nothing to say. You just need her attention.

“Poor thing,” She whispers. She hesitates for half a second before reaching out to brush her fingertips over your slick thigh. “What can I do for you, dear?”

That simple touch over your thigh alone makes you jolt and gasp. “Don’t… ask me that,” You plead. “You won’t like the answer.”

Larissa leans closer, her larger frame looming over yours as she reaches her free hand out to cup your chin. Her fingers are so gentle as they tilt your head back, as though she is handling something as delicate as a porcelain doll. “What can I do for you, dear?” She repeats in a firm whisper.

You melt as you’re forced to stare up into her sapphire eyes. It feels like you could become nothing more than a puddle in a pile of blankets if she continues this. “I…”

“Tell me,” She urges. Keeping her gaze fixed on you, she dips her head and presses a sweet little kiss to your jaw. “Let me help you. Tell me how.”

As pathetic as it is, the very little resolve you had left snaps as soon as you feel her lips on your skin. “Fuck me,” You pant, raising your hips unabashedly.

“Are you sure?” She asks, her grip on your chin growing slightly firmer. “Are you sure, sweetheart? I’ll do that for you if that’s what you need, but I don’t want you to regret it later…”

“Larissa!” You groan before breaking out into a pathetic ramble. “I won’t regret it. I have loved you since we were teenagers, you’re the love of my life, there is literally nobody else in this world I would rather have help me with this. You must know that. You must have picked up on how much I love y—“

Before you can even finish that word, her lips are on yours.

Both of her hands move to pin your hips to the bed, forcing you to keep still instead of uselessly writhing around. The sheets beneath you become soaked almost to the point of ruin as she kisses you hard, her tongue brushing against yours desperately. You struggle to keep up with the searing heat of her kiss, but she doesn’t seem to mind as she takes complete control. Your hips fight against her hold, and as a result she pins you down harder.

“Riss,” You whine against her lips.

“I know, darling,” She shushes you, one of her hands drifting from your hip to between your legs. You gasp out as her fingers press against you, teasing between your folds. “I know. Give me a minute, okay?”

“Can’t,” A soft sob slips past your parted lips as you pant, the pure desire for her making your body shake. “Can’t. Need you to knot me.”

“You need to wait a moment for my powers to work,” As though trying to sate you for the moment, two of Larissa’s long fingers slip inside you while her thumb rubs at your clit. When you gasp and arch into the feeling, she coos softly and begins kissing along the column of your throat. “My poor puppy. So desperate, aren’t you?”

All you can do is whine, unable to decide whether you should arch into her kisses or her fingers. Another orgasm rips through you as she circles your clit, your body squeezing around her fingers as you gasp and squirm.

“That’s it,” Larissa praises, lightening her hold on your hip. “That’s it, sweetheart. Ride it out.”

You don’t need more convincing than that as your hips move wildly through it, taking everything those digits are giving you.

But you still need more. More sobs leave you and you stare up at her pleadingly. The ability to form words on your lips has left you entirely. All you can do is whimper like the pathetic little thing you are.

“I know, puppy,” She suddenly slips her fingers out of you, making you whine louder. She shushes you firmly and you fall silent in an instant. She straightens up to her full height and begins hitching her skirt up to her thighs, unclipping her stockings and pulling down her panties. Your whole body seizes up at the sight of the penis beneath her skirt, hard and already leaking. She seems to have taken size into account, knowing you will be stretched with the knot. It isn’t too long or thick, made perfectly to fit in your tight hole.

She’s so damn considerate you can’t believe it.

Larissa lays back against the mountain of pillows you have set up, giving herself a tantalising stroke before patting her lap. “Come here, pup.”

You don’t hesitate, scrambling across the bed and setting yourself on one of her large thighs. You fight the urge to rut against it, knowing there is a much better reward waiting right there for you if you’re a good girl for her. She rests her hands on your hips and carefully guides you over here. The leaking tip of her cock rubs against your folds, teasing your clit.

“Are you positive you want this?” Larissa questions in a gentle whisper. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“It won’t hurt,” You assure her and cup her cheek. A little smile twists at your lips as she leans into the touch and sighs. Even if she hadn't created her cock to fit you perfectly, you would be so soaked and opened up by this point she could fit inside easily without hurting you.

“Okay. Relax for me, dear,” She nods. She surges forward to capture your lips with her own again. Her big hands pull you closer, and as she distracts you by kissing you like a woman starved, she slips inside you. Both of you gasp in unison, the sensation unfamiliar to each of you. She groans as your tight pussy clenches around her, taking her time to sink deeper and deeper inside you.

That isn’t going to fly with you.

Without warning, you slam your hips down and sheathe her fully inside you. She moans in surprise and chokes out, “Darling—”

Finally getting what you’ve wanted this whole time, you don’t stop. You fuck yourself feverishly on top of her, taking her cock deep inside you over and over again. You keen and whimper as your lips trail down to her neck, sucking and biting at every inch of pale skin you can reach. Even as your mind starts to blur, you have to force yourself not to sink your tiny fangs into her throat and claim her.

“Darling, please, slow down—” Despite her pleading words, her hands continue to guide your hips at the brutal pace you have set for yourself. Her head tips back against the headboard, harsh pants leaving her parted lips every second. “Gods, you need to slow down—”

The stretch of her cock inside you is like pure heaven. To finally be filled, and have her doing it, is the most exhilarating thing you could ever dream of. Having her hit that spot deep inside you, hearing her moans and knowing you are the cause of them. You’re sure you’ve had this wet dream about a hundred times over the past couple of decades, but fuck none of those dreams could ever compare to the real thing.

“You want me to slow down?” You pant in her ear, willing to do whatever she wants even that means slowing down when you just want her to fuck your brains out.

“Gods, no,” She whispers and pulls you down as she starts meeting you halfway in quick thrusts.

You moan in sheer delight, melting against her chest as she fucks you hard. Like she’s been holding back these same feelings for just as long as you have, and now she finally gets to let them out. She holds you tight to her chest with one hand while the other squeezes your ass, kneading it appreciatively between her fingers.

“Riss, I—” You gasp as yet another climax starts to bubble up in the pit of your stomach. You can already feel this one is more intense than the others, and not just because you’re far beyond oversensitive at this point.

“That’s it,” Larissa coos, “come for me, darling. Let me feel you coming around me like a good pup.”

That is all the encouragement you need. This orgasm crashes through you like a tsunami as she pumps into you hard enough to fill the room with harsh slapping sounds. Your nails tear into her shoulders, sharpening into claws that rip right through her nice blazer. Clinging onto her for dear life, your whiny moans fill the room. All you can do is keep riding her and taking her with every deep thrust as your body jolts and writhes under her hold, your whole being on fire with the pleasure she gives you.

“You want mommy to knot you, sweetheart? Want me to fill up that sweet little pussy?” She pants. Your body tightens around her cock at the sound of those words and she giggles, gripping your hips and dragging you down even harder into every snap of her own. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Yes,” You pant, nuzzling your nose into her neck and becoming pliant in her hands, allowing her to do whatever she wants with you. “Please please please. Please knot me.”

Moments later, she gives you exactly what you want. She moans sweetly into your ear, her thrusts growing sloppy before she buries herself all the way inside you. She gasps and pants as her release pulses through you, the base of her cock swelling and keeping her stuck inside your pussy.

“You’re mine, now,” She whispers possessively into your ear. You’ve never heard her use that tone with you before, and it makes you shiver with another wave of need. If she wasn’t already stuck in you, you’d be riding her all over again just for that. She brushes some hair back from your sweaty face and kisses your temple. “You’re mine, aren’t you?”

“I’m yours,” You repeat in a brainless whisper. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, darling,” Larissa sighs, brushing her nose against your cheek. “I love you so, so much.”

She holds you for a long time, rubbing her hands up and down your back and praising you in a gentle voice. When she can finally pull out of you, she does so slowly, not wanting to hurt your sensitive hole. She curls a finger inside you to feel her own come filling you, and shivers at the feeling of her own stickiness on her fingertip.

“Just beautiful,” She murmurs and casts her blue eyes up to your face. “Do you feel better now, pup?”

“Yeah,” You nod, still a panting mess -- but a satisfied panting mess. “Thank you, Larissa. You… You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know. But I wanted to,” She scoops you up and holds you close to her chest, before slipping her long legs over the side of the bed and carrying you bridal style towards the bathroom. “Now, let’s get you cleaned up, hmm?”

“Larissa?”

“Yes, dear?”

“Did you really mean it?” You ask nervously as you peer up at her. “When you said you loved me?”

“Of course,” Larissa smiles down at you. Her eyes shine with sincerity, and you can tell there isn’t a hint of dishonesty in her words. “I’ve loved you for… a very long time, sweetheart.”

There is a flutter of hope deep in your stomach as you swallow down a lump in your throat. “You have?”

“Yes.”

You can’t even bring yourself to say all of the things you want to as she perches you on the edge of the bath and begins running the hot water. As the steam fills the bathroom and she pours scented liquid into the water, all you can do is stare at her. At the red lipstick smudged across her beautiful lips, at her flushed cheeks visible even beneath her pale foundation. Her hair is still neatly pinned into place, she still looks eternally graceful despite the slight dishevelled appearance around her. This woman loves you. This… this goddess, standing before you, loves you.

“Larissa?” You clear your throat.

“Yes?” She chuckles, clearly amused by your line of questioning.

“After my heat ends, would you like to go on a date with me?” You blurt out before you can talk yourself out of it.

Larissa watches you for a long moment, a smile twitching at her painted lips. Eventually she nods, reaching out to caress your face. “I would love that.”

She bathes you with a great deal of care, making sure to be delicate near your swollen clit and cum-filled hole. You soon convince her to join you as another rush of heat goes through you, and she knots you again in the bath. Then she has to wash you all over again. Over the course of the next three days, the two of you can’t stop fucking. A couple of decades of pent up desire makes itself known in the course of a few days. During some point in those three days, she creates a set of long canine teeth for herself, sinks them into your throat and marks you as her own. At the end of it, you’re both utterly exhausted, but you’re happy.

So fucking happy.

[plush4bunny]

You nod and she pulls up a chair next to the bed. You watch her spellbound as she hikes up her dress so she can position the cello between her long legs, and you are left breathless when her dexterous fingers move over the chords. You half listen to the song she is bringing to life since you are transfixed by her and how stunning she looks.

- scene from @chrism02’s 6th chapter from their Larissa Weems x reader fic called “Trial and error”

[crow-raven-crow]

Can I, pretty please, request a fic of Larissa finding out reader has nipple piercing? Like, it's totally unexpected of reader to have them bc they seem so innocent. I don't really have a solid idea other than reader forgets to wear a bra, and it's visible through the shirt or whatever. Idk, I leave everything up to you tbh

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞

𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 - [𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝟏𝟖+]

✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧

𝐋𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐚 𝐖𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐬 𝐱 𝐟!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: ~3.2k 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬/𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: some fluff, NSFW, nipple piercings, reader receiving, nipple focused, slighting marking kink, vaginal fingering, slight begging, small mention of praise, alludes to future sex

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: see above

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

AO3 link in title ✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧

✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧

The rapid tapping of fingers against a keyboard filled the dimly lit room, the sound filling the space with a sense of urgency. Shadows danced along the walls under the cold moonlight - a room that was bathing in the golden hues of a sunset just moments before transformed with the arrival of night throughout Nevermore. The light coming off her laptop screen mixed with the tones of the moon highlighted the shine of blue eyes and smooth, pale skin.

Blue eyes scanned the laptop screen with unwavering focus, but no matter how rapidly she was typing, her mind was found far elsewhere. The documents and emails in front of the tall blonde were being responded to on autopilot, her motions guided by memory. The true motivation she found to get through all of her work was to cozy up next to you with her favorite bottle of wine. Each moment felt as though it dragged on into eternity, yet the thought of seeing you at the end of it was enough to make her power through her workday

Your relationship with Larissa was still new, only spanning a few months, but neither of you could deny the chemistry that was present when you were together. You worked with each others strengths and allowed the other to confide in their weaknesses. The connection and compatibility that was present was hard to ignore, even by your other coworkers.

With her final thoughts all in place, she hesitated for a moment before finally clicking "send" on the email, a content smile gracing her lips as she closed the laptop with a satisfying click. The glow of the screen faded away as it closed, the darkness seeping in and leaving her alone in the dimly lit space. As she stood from her desk, the weight of the day beginning to lift from her shoulders, she took in the cloak of nightfall - a moment of silence before moving around the space in a hurry.

Anticipation filled her body as she moved around her office, her mind racing with thoughts of you and how excited you would be at her surprise. With the bottle in hand, she slipped her coat over her shoulders and stepped out into the hushed hallway, the clicking of her heels waking up the quiet stones beneath her feet. Each step echoed through the ancient corridors, stirring the stillness of night as she made her way closer and closer to you.

Flames flickered against the dark stones they hung from, giving her some of the warmth that she craved. With each flicker of light, her steps seemed to quicken just as much as her heart. As she rounded the final corner, she acknowledged the golden glow seeping through the crack underneath your door, a smile growing on her lips as she got closer.

~~

Streams of hot water ran over the expanse of your skin, enveloping you in a pool of warmth that melted away the tensions of the day. The steam rose in wispy tendrils, dancing around you with every breath you released. As you rinsed out the remaining product in your hair, you tilted your head back, allowing the water to pool over your face and race down your neck.

Closing your eyes, you inhaled deeply, the steam filling your lungs and covering you in its comforting warmth. With a slow hand, you reached out towards the icy handle, your fingers wrapping around the metal knob and shutting the water off.

You nearly ran out of the shower, the sudden transition from the wonderful heat to the cool air pricking at your skin made goosebumps appear along your skin. You snatched the towel from its hook, successfully wrapping it around your body and shielding you from the harsh cold. Drops of water continued to trickle down your form, leaving a trail in their wake as they absorbed into the mat beneath your feet.

Letting out a sign, you turned towards the clouded mirror, making out your hazy reflection. You moved closer with a small smile, tracing a finger along the surface and writing out Larissa's name and finishing it with a heart. Your smile only grew as you took a step back to look, the heavy droplets running down the mirror only adding to the simple beauty of her name alone. With a lingering smile, you tore your gaze from the mirror and went off to put something comfortable on.

~~

Larissa's footsteps came to a nervous halt just outside your door, her hands feeling just a bit sweatier and her cheeks just a bit redder than just moments before. With a deep breath, she rose her hand up and knocked on the dark hardwood three times. The sound echoed through the corridor softly, the blonde waiting with bated breath as seconds stretched into centuries.

Muffled shuffles could be heard through the door, hurried footsteps following suit when a small and hurried "coming!" was thrown into the air. A small chuckle escaped her chest as she heard your hurried response, her nerves settling the closer she heard you step.

As you opened the door, a towel picking up the stray droplets of water that fell from your messy hair, your gaze met sapphire blue ones. Your chest immediately swelled with a warmth just as fast as a smile formed on your face with the sight of your lover in front of you. Her dress clung to every one of her curves. Against the backdrop of the dark hallway behind her, her porcelain complexion radiated in the soft amber light that escaped your doorway.

The flickering flames and the golden hues from your fairy lights created a an ethereal halo around her form. The world seemed to slip away, for just a moment, leaving only the two of you standing in something timeless. With a heart overflowing with love, a bright smile made its way to your lips.

The sight of your smile seemed to settle all of the blonde's nerves, a feeling of love and adoration quickly taking over and rushing through her veins. Her gaze raked over your figure, drinking in every curve that laid underneath a garment that seemed oh so familiar. One of her eyebrows arched up in playful curiosity as she quickly recognized it as one of her own - one that you had taken the last time you had come over to be more comfortable, the thin fabric enough to hint at the contours of your body underneath quickly displaying the lack of anything else between your body and her.

In the dim light, her cheeks flushed as they landed on your chest. The air around you seemed to charge with electricity, a silent tension starting to build itself up as locked away desires ran to the surface. Surely, her eyes were deceiving her in the dim light..

"Hello, darling," her voice came out in a purr, dripping with warmth and affection as she broke away from the thoughts. Her deep tone sent shivers down your spine, only adding to the charge that was building between you two. The impact she had on you was prevalent on your features, a crimson lighting up your cheeks and moving towards your shoulders, engulfing you in a rosy hue as you watcher her devour you with her eyes alone. With a flutter of excitement in your chest, you stepped aside to let her in, eager to lose yourself in the warmth of her presence and the quiet promises of the night ahead.

"Hi, my love. Let me just finish brushing my hair, and I'm all yours," you say as you move deeper into your room. As the door clicks shut behind you, you made your way to your vanity, routine kicking in as you ran the brush through your hair. Much to your surprise, she had followed right behind you, leaving the bottle of wine somewhere in the other room. Her figure appeared in the reflection of the vanity mirror, her gaze meeting yours before taking in your reflection, scanning over your body with a hidden desire. "How was work?"

Her presence made a rush surge through you, your heart echoing in your ears as your thoughts grew hazy, the simplest of acts becoming daunting under the weight of her gaze. She stepped closer as her words left her lips, her hands finding their home at your hips while her lips hovered close to your ear, the warmth of her breath sending shivers down your spine. Some of her fingers smoothed underneath the fabric of your shirt, only making your blush deepen as you relish in her touch. "It was nice today, though it's much better knowing that I'm ending the night with you.. How about you, darling?"

With a sudden surge of confidence, you spin around in her embrace. Your hands smooth up her arms, your fingertips tracing along the contours of her skin before they rest on her shoulders. Beneath your touch, you feel the subtle rise and fall of her chest, your own breaths subconsciously changing to match hers. Her perfume fills your lungs, the intoxicating scent filling you with a warmth and making your head dizzy with a rush of desire, nearly making you forget to answer.

"I can agree.. It's much better with you here," your voice came out breathier than you had hoped, but you quickly pushed the thought away at the feeling of her hands tightening around your hips, pulling you closer.

A comfortable silence filled the room, your eyes lingering on hers as you watcher her take you in for the third time this evening. You watched as they lingered on your lips, tracing the curve of your jawline before trailing down to your neck and coming to rest on your collarbones before landing on your chest. They lingered there for a moment, fixed in some unseen trance, as you watched her swallow hard, her gaze darkening and clouding over with an emotion you hadn't seen in her eyes just yet.

Her tongue darted out to coat her lips, a small gesture that stole your attention and caused your breath to catch in your throat. The sight of her, so close yet seemingly lost in her own thoughts, enamored with thoughts about you, sent a fire building in your abdomen, igniting a flame that simmered beneath the surface. Her voice was just above a whisper, dying out just as quickly as it had escaped to the surface. "You have.."

Seeing her so baffled made a soft chucked leave your lips, but it was quickly hidden away as you caught your bottom lip between your teeth. You didn't know exactly when this day would come, but you'd be lying if it wasn't growing increasingly harder to not think about her touch. Her hands were strong, but oh so gentle when she toyed with you. She always made your chest swell with love in her company, but you wouldn't deny that the look in her eyes was becoming addicting.

"Piercings?" Your voice broke the silence, your hands slowly moving down her arms and landing on the backs of her hands. You guided her hands underneath your shirt, pushing past the thin fabric as her fingers smoothed over your sides and left goosebumps in their tracks. You watched as her gaze moved up with her hands, watching with an intense focus as they came up to cup your breasts.

A shuddering breath left you at the sensation, her thumbs moving on their own and swiping over the piercings and hardened peaks in a way that nearly had you toppling over already. She watched as your eyes rolled back, the piercings making your nipples all the more sensitive, before you finally found your voice to speak again.

"I-I do.. I got them in college and-" It was hard to catch your breath as she continued to toy with you. She used her thumbs to roll around each bud or squeezed them between her index and middle fingers. Each movement sent more and more arousal coursing through you, your cheeks flushing a deep red as your breathing became much heavier. "Riss-"

She watched you with a hungry gaze, felt as your hands squeezed at her wrists in pleasure, saw as your thighs rubbed together to beg for any amount of relief. The small whimpers that she got out of you only fed her lust, fed a burning desire that only craved more.

Her lips crashed into yours as her name left your lips, her body quickly pressing into you as she pinned you against the edge of the vanity. She was quick to explore your mouth with her tongue, starved kisses eating away at every whimper and small moan that you could give her. It was easy to get lost in her touch, to get lost in every kiss that increased the ache between your legs.

Her lips left yours, slowly moving along your jawline and down your neck as she walked backward, pulling you gently with her. After a few steps, the backs of her legs pressed against the edge of your bed, and she was quick to sit down, pulling your onto her lap immediately after. Her hands left your chest in that moment, circling around to your lower back to pull you closer, then moving down to your thighs to make sure you were steady. Your hands rested back on her shoulders, your fingers starting to play with the fabric of her dress and small strands of her hair as one threaded into her updo.

Her lips never stopped worshipping you, never stopped leaving little marks along your neck and collarbones. You felt them barely miss your skin as she moved lower, coming into contact with the neckline of your shirt, and a small growl left her throat. She was quick to face you, her lips just centimeters above yours as her eyes displayed an increasing hunger. Her lips brushed against yours as she spoke, her voice the lowest you've heard it, "Can I take this off?"

"Yes-" Your voice was breathy, full of want, full of the need to feel more of her. Her fingers tightened on your thighs before tracing up your sides, pulling your shirt off and tossing it somewhere behind you. She was quick to place them back on your hips, but her eyes were locked on the pieces of silver on your chest, studying then with lust filled eyes as they rose and fell with every one of your breaths. She licked her lips, her mouth watering as she placed them back against your skin.

She whispered sweet praises after each kiss, her hands smoothing over your thighs and hips as she pulled you impossibly closer. Her tongue swiped over your right bud, circling around the sensitive skin and making your back arch into her. A loud moan left your lips as she captured it in her mouth, one of her hands coming up to toy with the other bud as you melted into pleasure.

You could feel your arousal pool between your thighs, your core squeezing around nothing as she pleasured you with the smallest touches alone. Her lips kissed a path to your other bud, being sure to leave a lingering one above your raging heart. Each lick and suck made another wave of pleasure shoot through you, your fingers gripping onto the fabric of her dress as more moans and whimpers left your lips.

Her other hand slowly inched between your thighs, two of her fingers smoothing over the fabric of your underwear and feeling a damp patch that was only growing. The action made your breath hitch, your hips rolling against her fingers ever so slightly as a plea for more of her. She pushed them up, adding pressure against your core, causing your hips to buck.

"F-Fuck-" Your breathing grew heavy, your face flushed as she skillfully worked you up. Her fingers soon pushed the thin fabric of your underwear to the side, collecting the slick against your folds before pushing into your core. The stretch was delicious, a broken moan leaving your throat as they curled in just the right spot.

She allowed you to chase all of the pleasure she gave you, guiding your hips as you rolled them against her fingers. She loved seeing how easily you came undone, how much of a mess you became because of her.

Your body shuddered with every thrust you met of her fingers, with every roll of your hips, the string tightening in you and threatening to snap as each one made the flame within you rage on. Each touch grew even more delicious, your chest littered with dark marks as her pace only grew faster.

A strong fire lingered behind each thrust of her fingers, her own low groans filling the room every time you clenched around them. The pleasure that took over you made your chest heave, the air being forced out of your lungs in moans as ecstasy came closer and closer.

Just as you felt the crash begin to form, her fingers stilled, making pleas escape your lips as your hips desperately rocked in the chase of pleasure. Your voice was desperate, needy as you begged for her, "Please- pl-please Riss I- *mmph-"

Before it could be completely lost, before you could completely retaliate, you felt her thumb circle around your clit, the pleasure coming back tenfold.

You became a mess on her lap, your moans growing louder and filling the room as her thrusts picked up where they left off, as her thumb circled against your sensitive bud, her eyes scanning over your entire body as she brought you towards a searing pleasure.

She built you up just as quickly as she stole a high from you, her fingers curling in just the right spot to make you see stars. The pleasure she was giving you became all consuming, the rope in you snapping as you came against her fingers.

Your body shuddered, your walls clenching around her fingers as you came. Your moans and whimpers lingered as she helped you ride out your high, her fingers slowly leaving your core just moments after. You watched her with half lidded eyes, your heartbeat hammering in your ears, as she took her fingers into her mouth, licking them clean and groaning at the taste of you.

You were quick to pull her in for a kiss, grabbing the collar of her dress and kissing her with a newfound hunger that was only reciprocated with a moan as you tasted yourself on her lips. When you pulled away, your breathing labored, you saw that the fire behind her eyes was still raging.

A smirk came to your lips as you shifted in her lap. You felt her hands move to either side of your hips as you pushed your torso flush against her. You kissed up her neck, making sure that each one lingered against her skin, as you made your way up to your ear. Your voice was just above a whisper, laced with lust as it came out in a low tone, "Might I return the favor?"

~~

✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧

𝐚/𝐧: HEHE HAHA

AS YOU CAN PROBABLY TELL IVE STARTED ANOTHER SEMESTER OF COLLEGE😭 I haven't been active here AT ALL IM SO SORRY HAHAA

my life has been a little crazy recently but i've actually been really happy :,) school and work as fun as fuck rn and ive been hanging out with my irls more i low key missed it lmao

i dyed my hair to black and grey after having the blonde pieces for YEARS. i missed my dark hair so much im literally thriving

i've been thinking about this req probably too much LOL IM SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG ANON😭🤍 I HOPE YOU LIKED IT AND THAT IT WAS WORTH THE WAIT

xx,

~ 𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐰

✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧cr

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: (tagged anyone who asked/wanted to be on the "all works" taglist)

as always, feel free to ask to be added :)

@autumn-leaves-chasing-breeze @weemssapphic @readingtheentrails @finnja555 @barbarasstar @vendocrap8008 @gwendolinechristieiscute @lilfartbox1 @agathaandgwenslesbian @lvinhs @elvira-dear @kimiinou @ladybathoryy

✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧

[heart--rot]

Typing this on my phone so sorry it isn't the usual format but I really need to get this off my chest.

Weemssapphic, milfsloversblog, and ash are all getting majorly harassed by some very entitled people due to "not uploading their fics/chapters fast enough".

People who don't write don't see this as an issue. I can confirm that it is. A lot of writers motivation comes from them knowing that their audience is enjoying the content they put out and wanting to see more. But there's a correct and incorrect way to go about it. You don't just DEMAND writing from somebody. Do you know how long it takes to write a full page for some writers? Days, or weeks, or even months.

They all have lives. We all have lives. They aren't obligated to always be working on their writing, as there are definitely more important issues surrounding them than ao3 or tumblr. I'm sorry to say this, (cant believe it needs to even be said) but your need for x reader fanfiction isn't more important than their personal lives and whatever they have going on.

A lot of you guys act like spoiled, needy little children. Yes, Gwendolines acting jobs are sporadic, but she also has a life outside of her job. You wouldn't go up to her and demand she book another gig, would you? So why do you feel entitled to do that to some of the only people keeping this fandom alive?

I'm not even going to touch on the whole "dropping the same request into multiple authors inboxes thing", since a lot of people also don't see it as an issue in itself or think that the authors should feel honored.

TOO LONG DIDN'T READ: you people piss me the fuck off and I'm two seconds away from straight up leaving the fandom due to disrespect towards authors. Anyways toodles!!!! If you take this personally you're a part of the problem!!!!

[queerfanfiction]

Request: ghost!Larissa appears to reader as a disembodied head in a crystal ball and gives them comfort?

Ghosting

Prompt is shown above. :) Thank you for being so very patient, @chromium-siren!

word count: 9.6k includes: angst, fluff; cw for death, emotional abuse, and ghosts

AO3 link

Reader POV

The weight of Nevermore’s legacy has pressed heavily on your shoulders from the moment you had accepted the role of principal. Its gothic spires and shadowy halls seem alive with the whispers of generations of outcasts who had walked those corridors before. You sought the position not out of ambition but necessity—to be close to your ailing mother, to spend what little time remains with her. What you hadn’t expected was to find a crystal ball tucked away in the floorboards of the principal’s office…

“Bathe the crystal sphere in sunlight or moonlight.” Hm, but wh- oh. Crystals feed on light, okay. Can do. You read the instructions from the large and dusty textbook that you had found stuck underneath another book in the Nightshades library. It looked like it hadn’t been opened in decades.

You peered out the window of your office, unable to see anything but darkness. Instead, you checked your phone only to find out there was a new moon that night. Just my luck, you thought to yourself. This would have to wait. You knew your current fixation on the crystal ball was excessive. Hells, you didn’t even know much divination magic; it had never been your forté in school. Something had to go your way, though. The past two weeks had been rough, and that was putting it lightly.

It was the end of your first week at Nevermore as the new principal. The students and faculty had been guarded and resistant to your efforts for camaraderie, and you couldn’t say you blamed them. Your stomach had plummeted when you first walked by the handmade memorial for their newly deceased former principal. Larissa, you had mouthed without making any sound. Her name had tasted unfamiliar yet weighty on your lips. You remembered passing her propped-up, framed photo in the hall outside what had once been her office—how her eyes had haunted you, how they had pierced through the glass with a look that had seemed both watchful and expectant. You had felt an inexplicable, magnetic pull toward her picture, as though a thread of fate had tethered you to her the moment you had stepped into her metaphorical shoes.

When you had arrived, the principal’s office had been untouched. Larissa Weems’ belongings had still been scattered throughout the office and living quarters, their placement a silent testament to her presence. Even the air had been filled with her lingering essence—opulent tuberose and jasmine, a scent so vivid it had almost made you falter. You hadn’t been able to decide if it was a comfort or a burden, the way the room had seemed to belong more to her memory than to you. Stepping into her role had felt less like an achievement and more like an act of trespass. Had she felt this way when she had first taken the position, or had her confidence always been unshakable, as it had seemed in every account you read of her? The weight of her legacy pressed heavily on you, and the room had borne it silently, waiting to see what you did next.

Feeling like a strange intruder, you had tiptoed around the rooms during the first day, nervous to upset the preserved and well-loved space. When you had finally tired of living out of your suitcase, you had perused the inherited items curiously. That had been when you had discovered the crystal ball, hidden beneath a wood plank in the floor to the right of the giant Medusa fireplace mantle. Once your hands had touched the heavy, cool quartz, a feeling of comfort had overwhelmed you. Your shoulders had relaxed, and you had felt as if you had slipped underwater. Everything had slowed and gone fuzzy; the hair on your arms had raised, sending echoes of energy along them. With your interest piqued, you had decided to display the crystal ball on a shelf in your office, not wanting to hide it away again.

Somehow, you’ve ended up here, sitting cross-legged on the floor of your office amidst an array of occult and divination books. The faint scent of dust mingles with the aroma of lukewarm IPA—the spoils of your most recent confiscation from a pair of unruly student werewolves. The surreal combination of academic pursuits and personal grief has felt as disjointed as your new reality, but you clung to it, if only to fill the void. You reached for your phone lying on your desk, checking it for any messages from your mother’s hospice nurse or from Alison. Alison—ugh.

You grimaced as you felt pain move through your chest. Heartbreak seems too cliché to deal with at this moment. You thought these kinds of things really only happened in fiction—to Callie and Arizona on Grey’s Anatomy. Ironically, you even remembered watching their breakup over moving to Africa with Alison. At the time, it had seemed too abstract and unbelievable that two people who loved each other couldn’t work it out. How naïve, you considered with a frown. You tried not to think about how Alison hadn’t wanted to stay with you, support you, or comfort you as you take care of your ailing mother.

It has been hard relocating to Vermont. Yes, you were thankful to have an amazing job in such a picturesque area, but it was still hard to get used to. It was hard sleeping alone again. It was hard changing your entire wardrobe due to a different geographic climate. It was hard not having friends to spend time with or a support system to lean on. It was hard transitioning to a smaller town. It was hard seeing someone you care for so deeply—your kind mother—become a shell of herself.

Unwilling to spiral into too much of a pity party, you decided to set up the mysterious crystal ball on the private balcony outside to let it absorb some light. I’ll check on you tomorrow night, you cooed, blowing the inanimate object a kiss. You then shook your head slightly, baffled at your silly behavior. Wow, and this is why I don’t drink beer… you lamented.

Exhausted from the day, you came back the following evening to find no changes in the crystal ball. You heaved a heavy sigh, not really sure what you expected. Carefully, you brought it in and set it back on display in your office. You plopped down on the leather chair by the fireplace with a soft creak, taking a moment to rub at your temples. Your eyes started to sting, indicating the welling up of tears; wetness threatened to spill onto your cheeks. You bite your lip in an effort to halt getting more emotional. Don’t break down, you pleaded with yourself earnestly. It had been a particularly difficult night at your mother’s house; seeing the reality of her health decline made you feel fragile and vulnerable.

The fire crackled in the hearth, and its warm glow danced across the crystal ball that was now perched on your desk instead of the bookshelf. Despite the object’s stillness, you felt as though it was watching you—or perhaps waiting. You shook the thought away, chalking it up to your weariness. You leaned back in the chair and closed your eyes, your fingers tracing idle patterns on the armrest. The soft leather felt comforting under your fingertips, but it hadn’t stopped the ache in your chest.

After those last few weeks, the ache in your chest feels like a companion now—a heavy, unwelcome shadow refusing to leave. Shifting uncomfortably, you pulled at the throw blanket draped over the chair and tucked it around yourself, seeking warmth. The silence of the room pressed down on you. It was a strange thing, the quietness of Nevermore after dark. It wasn’t peaceful so much as it was heavy, filled with the whispers of secrets too old and too dangerous to be forgotten.

You glanced at the crystal ball again, your eyes catching a faint shimmer within its depths. Probably just the reflection of the fire, you told yourself, though the thought did little to ease the odd flutter in your stomach. You tried to take a few deep breaths, but your gaze compulsorily wandered back to your desk.

The crystal ball seemed to gleam brighter then, its surface catching and refracting the light in a way that felt almost alive. A faint, pulsating glow began to emanate from within, soft and rhythmic, like a tiny heartbeat. You squinted to look closer, your breath hitching as the glow intensified, each pulse drawing you further into its strange, mesmerizing allure. You blinked, leaning forward, almost toppling from the chair. This time, you knew the shimmer wasn’t from the fire. You froze, and the hairs on your arms stood on end.

No, it must be a trick of the light, you considered. But the logical part of your brain faltered when the glow sharpened, coalescing into a distinct shape. A face. Pale, elegant, with high cheekbones and red lips pressed into a concerned expression. The eyes, illuminated by the glow, were an arresting blue that you now knew all too well—eyes framed in the tribute photo outside your office. That photo, capturing a poised yet enigmatic Larissa Weems, had always felt like it was watching you. Now, the familiar gaze sent a shiver down your spine, as if the picture itself was coming to life.

Larissa.

Larissa POV

The crystal ball was both a prison and a perch, a paradox that Larissa Weems was still coming to terms with. The inside was surprisingly spacious. Not physically, of course, but in that odd, liminal way one might feel in a dream—weightless yet aware, detached yet painfully tethered. Suspended within its shimmering, otherworldly sphere, she felt every movement of the world around her as faint ripples, like distant echoes of a tide. Larissa had spent an indeterminate amount of time there, waiting to reunite with the world beyond the glass and dark floorboards.

This failsafe is proving to be troublesome, indeed, Larissa thought one day. As if on cue, weight above her seemed to shift as Larissa heard wood creak loudly and scuffle against itself.

Finally! the silver-blonde-haired woman exclaimed to herself. Finally, she was being unearthed from beneath the floorboards. The discovery was almost anticlimactic—a dusty sphere wrapped in an old cloth, its surface dull until warm fingers brushed against it. Larissa felt a jolt then, a spark of recognition and connection. Hope. The warm, agile fingers continued to uncover the crystal ball.

“Oh, at last! Wonderfu—” Larissa paused abruptly, changing her tone from relief and excitement to one of confusion and impatience. She didn’t recognize the woman in front of her. She had been waiting for Wednesday, Enid, Bianca—anyone to decipher the clues showing that Larissa had found a way to temporarily cheat death. “And just who are you?”

Larissa’s question wasn’t met with a response. Rude. Her savior-turned-intruder ignored her. “Excuse me,” the former principal shouted. “Put me down at once!”

However, no matter how much Larissa willed herself to be seen or heard, the strange woman holding her remained blissfully unaware of Larissa’s presence. Instead, the woman tilted her head, examining the crystal globe, but her gaze seemed to pass through Larissa like sunlight through mist.

Over the next few days, Larissa grappled with a mixture of determination and desperation. She tried everything she could think of—whispering, shouting, even attempting to roll the glass ball off the desk in a moment of frantic frustration. Nothing had worked. Her voice was absorbed into the void, leaving her with a deep, aching loneliness she hadn't felt in years. The isolation gnawed at her, a relentless reminder of her severance from the world she had once commanded. Each futile attempt to physically interact with those outside the sphere—resulting in only faint, unnoticed vibrations—tightened the knot of frustration and yearning in her chest. She longed for the tactile sensations of life: the crisp rustle of papers, the smooth glide of a pen, the comforting weight of her tailored blazers. Gods forbid, even Enid’s excited muttering or Wednesday’s deadpan quips. Instead, she floated in silence, a spectator in a world that was moving on without her. She supposed it was poetic justice to be a phantom steward of the very institution she had once ruled with iron grace.

Still, she refused to give in to despair. If there was one thing Larissa Weems excelled at, it was adapting to the impossible.

—

Larissa saw the room, the polished wood of the desk, and the clean but casual order in which the new principal kept her belongings. She saw the woman, pacing with a furrowed brow, her lips moving as she muttered something about an upcoming staff meeting.

In her silent observation, Larissa has come to admire the other woman’s resolve. Taking over as principal of Nevermore Academy was no small feat, particularly in the wake of Larissa’s own tenure. The school has its quirks, its mysteries, its dangers. Yet, this woman seemed to navigate it all with an earnest determination that Larissa found both endearing and exasperating.

“No, no, no,” the woman had muttered once, crossing out a line in her notebook with sharp, deliberate strokes. “That’ll never work. Maybe if I rearrange the seating assignments…” She had flipped back several pages, her pen darting over the paper in quick, decisive motions.

Larissa had tilted her head, amused. “Darling, it’s a staff meeting, not a battlefield,” she had murmured, though she had known the words would not reach the other woman’s ears.

Still, her inability to directly communicate didn’t stop Larissa from meddling. It became a bittersweet outlet for her pent-up emotions. At times, her subtle interference felt like a lifeline, a way to reaffirm her presence in the world she could no longer touch. Other times, it seemed like an exercise in frustration, a poignant reminder of her limitations. Regardless, it gave Larissa a flicker of purpose, and for now, that was enough to keep her going. Her influence was subtle—books falling open to the correct pages, the faintest brush of wind guiding the other woman’s hand away from disastrous decisions. When the new principal stayed late answering emails, Larissa would nudge the clock forward to remind her to go to bed. When she hesitated to discipline unruly students, Larissa would whisper encouragement, even if the words dissipated like vapor.

Once, before becoming fond of the woman, when Larissa had found the new principal poring over the schedule for the upcoming Poe Cup, she hadn’t been able to stand it. “Not that team first, you fool,” Larissa had groaned, watching as the woman placed the Fangs in the first heat. “The Sirens will tear them apart. Have you no sense of strategy?” She had passed her ethereal hand over her face, only to remember—again—that her fingers weren’t solid enough to touch anything.

The air had gone chilly, and the younger woman sitting only feet from Larissa had suddenly frowned, looking up from her work. “Is someone there?” she had uttered, scanning the room. Larissa had frozen and felt oddly sheepish, not daring to breathe—not that she had needed to anymore. When the woman had risen from her seat to close the balcony doors, Larissa had focused all of her energy into pushing forward the Black Cats token instead of the Fangs. When sitting back down to work at the desk again, the woman’s eyebrows had knitted together in confusion. Thankfully, it had only taken a moment for her to place the Black Cats in the first heat instead. During another time, Larissa had even managed to make the crystal ball glow faintly, a soft white radiance that had been dismissed as a reflection coming in from the windows.

These small victories kept Larissa going, even as the days stretched into weeks. She watched as the younger woman slowly made the role of principal her own, balancing the expectations of the staff, the students, and the peculiarities of Nevermore itself. Larissa was particularly proud of the moment the new principal reorganized the curriculum for the history of the supernatural world. She had unknowingly scrapped the rote memorization that Larissa had always despised in favor of practical, interactive learning. “Well done,” Larissa had vocalized, feeling a swell of pride.

There were moments of vulnerability, too. Late at night, when the office was quiet and the weight of the day pressed heavily on the new principal’s shoulders, Larissa felt an almost unbearable urge to reach out to her. To offer comfort, guidance, reassurance… to tell her that she was not alone.

Larissa started to verbalize all her thoughts, taking comfort in knowing others would not hear her. She reflected on her past relationships and leadership, grappling with the contradictions between her rigorous expectations and the rare, fleeting connections she managed to forge. The memories surfaced unbidden—moments of camaraderie tarnished by misunderstandings, and alliances fractured under the weight of her perfectionism. Yet, in this peculiar companionship with the oblivious principal, she found herself revisiting those failures with a bittersweet clarity. Could this enforced proximity be a second chance, not just to guide but to grow? She never thought she could get along with someone long-term, especially living together. If this could even be considered living together, she pondered.

Past attempts at close companionship had always ended in disappointment, usually due to her own exacting standards. Larissa had always preferred the solitude of her own company to the vulnerability that came with sharing her life. And yet, now, as she observed the younger principal with increasing fondness, she wondered if she had been too quick to dismiss the possibility of connection. There was something different here—an inexplicable pull that made her almost relish the forced proximity, even if it was one-sided. Yes, Larissa liked her space, often putting up a wall with others. However, she found herself waiting for the new principal to return from meetings, wishing she could usher her through tough decisions and emotional turmoil.

Larissa’s favorite days were when the other woman placed her crystal ball on the office desk. This gives me time to read important administrative missives, Larissa tried to convince herself. While that may be true, she also found herself closely watching the other woman process information. Larissa began to memorize her facial expressions, like how she pressed her lips together in a line when she was concentrating. Or how her right eyebrow rose when she was suspicious of whether or not she was getting the entire truth from a student.

“You’re doing better than you think,” Larissa had said softly one evening, as the other woman had sat with her head in her hands, the faint glow of the desk lamp casting long shadows across the room. “You’re stronger than you realize.”

The words had dissolved into the ether, unheard and unacknowledged. Larissa had spoken them anyway. She had to believe that somehow, in some small way, they make a difference.

And so she waited, tethered to the crystal ball, watching and hoping. One day, Larissa told herself. One day, the woman in front of her would see her. One day, they would speak. Until then, Larissa would be the silent sentinel, the unseen guardian of Nevermore Academy and its newest principal.

Mostly Reader POV

Before you could examine the slight glow from within the crystal ball, the soft chime of your cellphone broke the stillness of the late evening. You cleared your throat briefly and answered, “Hello?” The word hung heavily in the air.

The pause on the other end was just long enough to spark unease in your chest. Then a gentle, wavering voice came through—a familiar voice. It was your mother’s hospice nurse, letting you know that your mother passed away peacefully after you left that evening.

The world tilted. A numbness settled over you, followed by a wave of disbelief so strong it threatened to swallow you whole. You barely manage to whisper, “I appreciate you letting me know” and “Thank you for your dedication to her comfort at the end of her life” before you end the call with trembling hands. Your phone slipped slightly within your grasp as the weight of the news sank in.

You fell to your knees where you were in front of the fireplace, and your breath caught. Tears spilled from your tired eyes before you even realized they were falling. Mom, you repeat over and over in your head. You remember her smile, warm and reassuring, as she had taught you how to braid your hair for the first time. Heard her voice, steady and patient, explaining how to face fear without flinching. You remembered the way her eyes had lit up when she had seen you in your cap and gown, pride radiating from her like sunlight. Each memory sharpened the ache in your chest, but you clung to them desperately, unwilling to let her go completely. The sharp-witted woman who taught you resilience was now silenced forever. The dark mahogany walls of the office seemed to close in. Grief poured out in quiet sobs as you rose and then slumped into the leather chair, your face buried in your hands. You didn’t even notice the faint glimmer in the corner of your vision—an almost imperceptible flicker of light from the crystal ball on the desk behind you.

“Oh, darling, I’m so sorry,” a voice called, soft and uncertain, carrying an ethereal echo as if it had been traveling across time and space. The words seemed to float in the air, wrapping around you like a fragile whisper, tinged with a strange warmth that sent flutters through your body.

You froze, your head snapping up. The voice wasn’t your mother’s, but it didn’t feel entirely unfamiliar either. Your eyes darted around the room before landing on the ornate crystal sphere. The smooth surface shimmered, a faint image forming within. A face. Her face.

“Larissa?” you whispered, your voice trembling. Inside the crystal ball, Larissa’s expression was one of concern, with an intensity that made your heart pound. The usually composed demeanor you often saw her depicted in was softened by something you couldn’t quite place.

You stood slowly, disbelief warring with the raw ache in your chest. “This can’t be real. I must be losing my mind.”

“It’s real,” Larissa replied gently. “I wish it weren’t under these circumstances, but it seems your pain has... unlocked something. You were unable to hear me before tonight.” She spoke her initial words of apology not expecting any sort of reaction or response from the other woman. She just couldn’t stand to watch you hunched over in despair. You were not able to hear her over the last few weeks, so she didn’t consider that this time would be any different.

You pressed your fingers to your temples, trying to steady yourself. The surrealism of the moment clashed with the grief still roaring through your veins. “I couldn’t hear y—… You’ve been here this whole time? You—” Your voice faltered, cracking under the weight of disbelief. Your stomach twisted as everything you thought you knew was flipped on its head.

A flood of questions battled for dominance in your mind—Why hadn’t I sensed her before? How much has she seen? What does this connection mean? But the words refused to form, tangling in your throat as a mixture of awe and fear gripped you. Finally, a hoarse whisper escaped: “How… How are you here? You’re—” You stopped short, unwilling to say the word aloud.

“Dead?” Larissa offered, her tone calm and almost matter-of-fact. However, her voice was edged with a faint hesitation, as though acknowledging the weight of the word might shatter the delicate connection forming between you. “Yes. Quite inconvenient, I must admit. But one learns to adapt.” You felt a flicker of unease at her candor but also an odd comfort in her willingness to confront the truth with you.

After a few moments of raw, pregnant silence, Larissa admitted, “I’ve seen you pacing this office, running this school, handling it all with grace—even when you were clearly breaking inside. I wanted to speak to you so badly, but I couldn’t. Not until now.”

The weight of the past weeks—learning the academy, grieving in silence for your mother’s impending death—weighed on you further, and you involuntarily let out a bitter laugh. “And now you can talk to me, just when I have nothing left to give.”

Larissa’s tone grew insistent, more reassuring. “You have so much left. More than you know. I may be trapped in this... cursed glass prison, but that doesn’t mean I can’t help. You’re not alone.”

You stared at the crystal ball, your heart a storm of emotions. Tears began to fall again. Despite the surreal nature of the moment, a sense of unexpected comfort washed over you. It was as if Larissa’s presence, even confined to the crystal, pierced through the isolating fog of your intense grief. Her calm reassurance felt like a lifeline, grounding you when everything else seemed to be spiraling out of control. You sank into your desk chair and let yourself feel it all—grief, disbelief, and that odd, unexpected reassurance in Larissa’s presence. For the first time since stepping into the role of principal, since moving to Vermont, you didn’t feel entirely alone.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, your voice breaking again. “I—I don’t know how to do this without her.”

“You’ll figure it out,” Larissa commented softly, her pale blue eyes holding a spark of warmth. “And I’ll be here to help you every step of the way.”

You nodded slowly, your fingers brushing the smooth surface of the crystal ball. The connection between you two felt fragile but real, like a thread binding you to something steady in a world suddenly adrift. The sensation was both comforting and strange, a bittersweet tether in an unmoored reality.

As the sun settled below the horizon, the two women sat together—one confined to a sphere of glass, the other drowning in grief—and for the first time, they began to truly see each other. You found yourself marveling at the unexpected solace Larissa offered, even in her spectral form. Perhaps this connection, however strange, was what you needed to navigate both the weight of your losses and the responsibilities ahead. A flicker of hope ignited within you, fragile yet persistent, as you resolved to face tomorrow with Larissa’s steady voice as your guide.

—

Days passed in a blur of meetings, morose reflecting, and an eagerness to learn more about Larissa. Though she remained confined within the crystal ball, Larissa’s voice became a constant in your life, offering advice, sharp wit, and occasional pep talks. You found yourself relying on her in ways you never expected. And when the question finally formed on your lips, it felt like a whisper of hope. “Is there a way to... free you? To get you out of the crystal?”

Larissa’s image flickered slightly, her gaze thoughtful. “Perhaps. Magic has its intricacies, but there are always loopholes. I learned of the possibility only briefly before my death. I suspect any true release will require both research and courage—two things you have in abundance.”

Her words sent a subtle thrill through you, a renewed sense of purpose. Late nights that once felt endless and hollow now found you reading over ancient divination texts and arcane tomes, searching for clues. Larissa watched, her ethereal presence a steadying force, offering insights from her time as an educator and leader. Together, you composed fragments of spells, legends, and theories, each discovery bringing you closer to an answer.

But life didn’t pause for mysteries or magic. The academy demanded your attention, and you refused to leave Larissa behind. The crystal ball found a new home in your bag, nestled among your notebooks and pens. You carried her with you almost everywhere—staff meetings, Jericho town halls, disciplinary hearings, even casual strolls through the campus gardens. It felt strangely soothing to have her voice at your side, her sharp observations cutting through the noise of administrative chaos and duties. Though, you often wondered if Larissa could even be stopped from giving her opinion—not that others could hear her.

“You can’t let the vampires out after curfew,” Larissa had tutted one evening, her elegant features shimmering faintly in the glass sphere. “They’ll claim it’s moonlight yoga, but trust me, it’s never just yoga.”

“Really, darling,” she had quipped a different afternoon as you had sat in a budget meeting, the crystal ball resting discreetly on the table beside your laptop. “Doesn’t he realize the importance of investing in the arts? Short-sighted, if you ask me.”

You had stifled a laugh, earning a curious glance from the finance director. “I’ll bring it up,” you had whispered under your breath, your hand brushing the sphere in silent acknowledgment.

Larissa’s presence transformed even the mundane into something meaningful, something you looked forward to. Her advice was invaluable, her perspective a steadying force as you navigated the complexities of Nevermore. And though the weight of grief lingered, the ache felt lighter with her by your side. You found yourself growing around your grief—finding moments of curiosity, camaraderie, and pure laughter with Larissa.

One evening, as you sat in your office with the crystal ball glowing softly on your desk, Larissa’s voice broke the silence. “You know, I never expected to become someone’s... travel companion. But I must admit, it’s been rather enlightening.”

You smiled, the warmth of her words seeping into your chest. “You know you’re more than that, Larissa. I’m not keeping you around for your advice, though it has aided me tremendously. You’ve become... indispensable.”

Her image in the crystal ball seemed to soften, a flicker of emotion crossing her features. “As have you. Now, let’s figure out how to solve this little predicament of mine, shall we?”

The determination and fondness in her voice mirrored your own. Together, you resolved to uncover the secret to her freedom, the bond between you growing stronger with each passing day.

—

The buzzing of your phone jolted you awake later that week. It wasn't the first time that night. The screen lit up again, the harsh glow cutting through the dim warmth of your bedroom. Alison. Her name flashed incessantly, each call and text a relentless assault on the fragile calm you managed to cobble together. Hells, she even emailed your Nevermore work email trying to get ahold of you. Of course, she’d try to get in touch now, after Mom… You didn’t want to finish the thought.

Her messages blurred together in your mind—half-apologies, fragments of accusations, and nostalgic jabs meant to, no doubt, undermine the distance you put between you two. “I just don’t understand why you won’t talk to me.” “I still love you.” “You don’t even care anymore, do you?” The collection of words seeped under your skin, reigniting old wounds you thought had at least scabbed over.

You hurled your phone onto the mattress, its glow fading against the rumpled sheets as you collapsed onto the bed. The walls seemed to close in around you, the muffled sound of students outside offering no comfort. Curling in on yourself, you clutched at the hem of your sweater, the fabric collapsing under your slightly trembling fingers. Your chest heaved, feeling renewed grief, exhaustion, and the sting of Alison’s unrelenting words—until it felt like the air itself was too thick to breathe.

The crystal ball rested on the pillow next to you, movement from within catching your eye. Larissa’s image appeared within the glass, her expression soft yet pensive. “Darling,” she said, her voice low and deliberate, “you’re carrying far too much alone. I’m here for you. Though, I wish I could do more to comfort you.”

You sniffed, swiping irritably at your tears that kept falling. “What else am I supposed to do? I can’t just stop. I can’t—I—” The words choked in your throat as another sob threatened to escape.

Larissa watched you quietly, her ethereal form radiating calm even as you felt like you were experiencing the aftershocks following a disaster. “Come here,” she purred gently. Without thinking, you clutched the crystal ball and pulled it closer, cradling it like a lifeline. The smooth surface felt cool against your hands, settling you and letting you feel in your body.

“You’re allowed to feel overwhelmed,” Larissa stated, her voice a soothing balm against the chaos in your head. “You’re not a machine, and no one expects you to be.”

“I’m just so… tired,” you admitted, the words tumbling out unprompted. “Of all of it. The expectations, the grief, the constant demands. And Alison—she won’t leave me alone.”

Larissa’s image sharpened, her blue eyes narrowing slightly. “Alison has no right to your peace, especially now. You don’t owe her anything.” Her tone was firm, a protective edge creeping into her voice.

You closed your eyes, letting her words wash over you for a few moments. “I know. She says she still loves me, but it doesn’t feel like love. It feels like… control. I mean, who calls someone they love selfish for moving to be closer to a sick family member?”

Larissa hummed thoughtfully, her gaze one of concern and care. “Real love doesn’t bind you or weigh you down. It lifts you, supports you—even when you feel you’ve reached your limit.” Her voice momentarily wavered, a glimmer of vulnerability crossing her features. “And you, my dear, deserve nothing less.”

The words seep into the cracks of your heart, filling spaces you didn’t realize were close to empty. Tears flowed freely from you now, unrestrained and cleansing. You pressed the crystal ball to your chest, as if hoping to absorb Larissa’s warmth through the glass.

“I wish you were here,” you disclosed, your voice barely audible. “Really here.”

Larissa’s smile was faint but achingly tender. “I’m here in every way that matters. And I’m not going anywhere.”

That night you allowed yourself to simply exist—no demands, no expectations, just the quiet relief of Larissa’s presence. As your breathing slowed and the restriction in your chest eased, you found yourself clutching the crystal ball a little tighter, Larissa’s soft glow illuminating the shadows of the room.

—

Over the next few days, you read up on crystals and their ability to hold spirits. In one text you had found in the restricted section of Nevermore’s library, you learned that crystal balls were used for scrying since ancient times. The theory was that crystals had a consciousness, and it was this energy that people connected with when they used them. Apparently, the energy could be used for spirit communication, seeing images from elsewhere, and even healing. Crystal balls were both transmitters and receivers of energy and could store information or be programmed for certain specific purposes.

Hm, does this mean a person could temporarily be stored in one? You pondered to yourself.

Later that night, the buzzing of your phone dragged you from a restless sleep again. Alison. The harsh light of her name on the screen cut through the dim warmth of your bedroom.

With a groan, you reached for the phone and silenced it, sitting it back on the bedside table. You rolled over, trying to ignore the churning in your gut—an uneasy mix of frustration, guilt, and anger. Beside you, the faint shimmer of Larissa’s presence filled the room. Though she didn’t need to sleep, she often offered to keep you company as you drifted off in the quiet hours of the night.

“She’s persistent,” Larissa uttered softly, her tone carefully neutral.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “She always was. Alison doesn’t like loose ends, and apparently, I’m one of them.”

Larissa’s expression shifted subtly, the faintest crease forming between her brows. “Do you want to talk to her?”

“No,” you maintained firmly. “Whatever she wants, it’s not about me. It’s about her. She’s… she’s looking for closure or maybe control. Either way, I’m not giving it to her.”

Larissa nodded, though the tension in her features remained. She did not press the issue, but the unease lingered between you, a silent weight neither of you could entirely shake. However, that tension came to a head the following day.

You were in the middle of a staff meeting when the door to the conference room swung open with a sharp bang. Alison stood in the doorway, her sleek, city-chic outfit and polished demeanor a jarring contrast to the gothic gloom of Nevermore. Her eyes found yours instantly, blazing with determination and expectation.

“We need to talk,” she insisted, her voice cutting through the quiet hum of the meeting like a blade.

The room fell silent, every pair of eyes darting between you and the unexpected intruder. Larissa, who had been observing the meeting from her usual spot by your bag, somehow straightened. Her translucent form seemed to tighten with tension, her gaze fixed on Alison with an intensity that made your stomach twist.

You stood slowly, your chair scraping against the floor. “Alison, this is neither the time nor the place.”

“It’s never the time with you,” she shot back, stepping further into the room. “Your mother is gone. There’s nothing keeping you here anymore.”

Larissa’s sharp intake of breath was almost imperceptible, but you felt it like a ripple in the air. Her ghostly form intensified, as if she wanted to step between you and Alison but couldn’t cross the barrier of her incorporeal existence.

“Alison,” you warned, your voice low and firm, “this is inappropriate. We can talk later, outside of—”

“No,” Alison interrupted, her voice rising. “You don’t get to brush me off anymore. I’ve been patient. I’ve waited. But this…” Her gaze swept the room, taking in the outcast faculty, the gothic decor, the very essence of Nevermore. “This isn’t you. It’s a phase, a distraction. You belong with me in the life we built together.”

Larissa’s image turned sharp, her usually composed demeanor cracking ever so slightly. She didn’t speak, but the intensity of her gaze conveyed everything. You felt her worry, her jealousy, and beneath it all, her fear. Fear that Alison would be right, that she might succeed in pulling you away.

But Alison was wrong. She has to be.

You squared your shoulders and pulled Alison out of the room. You met her gaze with unwavering resolve. “No,” you announced, your voice steady. “This is my life. I built it after you abandoned me. And I’m not leaving it.”

—

The days after the encounter stretched out like a taut string, each one vibrating with tension and uncertainty, like the lingering hum of a plucked chord. The air felt heavy, thick with unspoken words and the faint scent of lavender from the flowers Alison left behind afterward.

The following evening, Alison’s shadow fell over your doorstep. You didn’t answer the knock. From behind the curtains, you watched her stand there, shifting her weight from foot to foot, her hands clutching another bouquet of flowers.

The evening light filtered through her hair, casting an almost halo-like glow that made you want to laugh bitterly. After a few minutes, she left, the flowers placed carefully on your front mat. You didn’t pick them up. When Larissa asked about it later, her voice calm but probing, you shrugged. “I’m not ready.”

Larissa didn’t press further, but her gaze lingered on you, a mixture of concern and quiet encouragement. The flowers stayed on the doormat until morning, their colors dulling from the night’s chill. By then, the sight of them felt too overwhelming, and you tossed them into the trash without another glance.

The next morning, Alison’s texts grew more insistent. “Can we talk?” “I’m sorry.” “Please.” You read them but didn’t respond, the words blurring together as guilt and anger wrestled within you. You began avoiding your phone entirely, turning it face-down on the counter and letting its notifications pile up unchecked. Larissa’s voice hummed softly from the crystal ball as you paced in your office. “You don’t have to face her yet,” she cooed. “Or ever. It’s your choice, darling.” Her words were reassuring, but they also felt like a challenge—one that urged you to confront the raw wound Alison’s persistence kept reopening.

By the third day, Alison’s persistence began to wear at you. Each knock, each message, chipped away at the fragile wall you built to protect yourself. Guilt and frustration churned within you, an exhausting cycle that left you pacing your living quarters, unable to focus on anything for more than a few minutes. The pressure of Alison’s determination felt constant, as if she had found a way to exist in the very air around you. She visited again in the early evening, knocking lightly at first, then louder. This time, she did not leave flowers. Instead, her voice drifted through the door, muffled but earnest. “I’m not giving up on us,” she informed the unanswered door. You sat on the floor, your back pressed against the door, listening but saying nothing. You couldn’t decide if her earnestness was true. Her words hung in the silence, and they seemed to echo in your mind long after her footsteps retreated. When Alison had finally left, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, the pressure in your chest easing only slightly.

Larissa’s presence was a balm in the quiet that followed. She didn’t speak this time, simply watching you from the crystal ball, her expression unreadable but steady. You met her gaze and felt a wave of strength return. It didn’t last long, though. Messages and memories crept back into your thoughts the moment the room fell silent again. You wondered if it was possible to truly move forward when the past insisted on clawing its way back.

The fourth day dawned with a kind of weary inevitability. Alison’s texts came again, but this time, they were less frantic, more measured. “I’m not giving up… I just hope you’ll hear me out when you’re ready.” The change in tone unsettled you more than her earlier desperation. That evening, as the sun dipped low on the horizon, Alison showed up once more. Her knock was sharp, more demanding than before. This time, you opened the door, just a crack, enough to see her face. Her pleading exterior from the earlier days seemed to have worn away, revealing a bubbling frustration that she struggled to contain. She fidgeted as she talked, her voice louder than before, her gestures sharper.

“I’m not here to beg,” she expressed firmly. “But I need you to know I’m not the same person who walked away. Let me explain.”

You glanced back at the crystal ball, where Larissa’s image materialized. Her brow arched slightly, her silence urging you to trust yourself. With a deep breath, you opened the door wider. Alison stepped inside, her movements careful.

She set a small, weathered box on your desk. The box, adorned with faint scratches and a delicate floral engraving, seemed as if it held not just objects but fragments of something far more fragile—hope, regret, and longing all pressed into its corners. Inside, you found a collection of mementos—a pressed flower from a long-forgotten date, a concert ticket stub, a handwritten note you had once slipped into her bag. “I’ve kept these,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “They’re pieces of us. Of what I threw away when I let my fear take over.”

You were silent, processing her words and their intentions. “Alison,” you began, but she cut you off gently.

“I know I hurt you,” she admitted, her expression showing a battle between frustration and hurt. “And I’m not asking for forgiveness, not yet. I just want you to know that I’ve been working to be better. To be someone who deserves you.”

Larissa’s voice rang through the tense atmosphere, her tone measured as she asked you, “And what of the burden she placed on you? The hurt she left behind?”

Alison was not able to hear her, but the question lingered in the air, a reminder of the pain you carried. You met Alison’s gaze, searching for sincerity, for proof that her words weren’t just a temporary salve.

“I appreciate what you’re saying,” you said finally, your voice steady but guarded. “But this isn’t something that can be fixed with apologies or memories. It would take time. And I don’t know if I have that time to give.”

Alison’s shoulders slumped momentarily before a renewed irritability dominated her movements. Her fingers curled into fists at her sides, and her breath became sharp and uneven. “That’s bullshit,” Alison blurted, her voice clipped and tense.

You glanced briefly at Larissa, the shimmering presence within the crystal ball radiating an unspoken concern. Confusion crossed Alison’s face as she followed your gaze, her expression morphing from irritation to something more unsettled. “What are you staring at?” she snapped, eyes darting to the crystal ball with a mix of disdain and confusion.

You stiffened at her tone, your fingers gripping the edge of your office chair. “It’s none of your business, Alison,” you responded evenly, though the slight tremor in your voice betrayed your unease.

Alison let out a short, bitter laugh. “Not my business? I’m here trying to fix this,” she gestured between the two of you, her movements growing more erratic. Her frustration was palpable as she continued, a storm of emotions building in the small room. “And you’re just zoning out, staring at a damn crystal ball?”

“It’s not a competition,” you replied defensively. Your gaze shifted involuntarily back to where Larissa’s calm, watchful presence resided. Alison caught the movement and followed your eyes, her frustration igniting into raw anger.

“Look at me,” she demanded, stepping toward the desk. “Look at me!” she huffed again when you didn’t respond immediately or the way she wanted. Without warning, Alison reached out and grabbed the crystal ball, lifting it with force. She brought it to her face, as though to inspect the source of your distraction. Her grip was tight, her knuckles white against the smooth glass.

“Alison, stop!” you said sharply, rising from your seat. Panic coiled in your chest as you took a hurried step forward, reaching out toward the sphere. “You don’t understand what you’re doing.”

She hesitated, her anger flickering with momentary uncertainty, but the tension in her grip didn’t ease. “What I’m doing?” she echoed menacingly. “I’m trying to get through to you, but all you care about is this… this orb!” Her voice cracked, and for a fleeting second, vulnerability seeped through her fury.

“It’s not just an orb,” you pleaded, your voice softer now but no less urgent. “Just put it down.”

Alison’s eyes darkened, her head shaking in disbelief as she considered your words. “Fine.” Her voice dripped with venom. Just then, with deliberate carelessness, Alison loosened her grip and let the crystal ball slip from her fingers.

Time slowed. You lunged forward, heart hammering in your chest, but it was too late. The sphere tumbled through the air, distorting the dim light of your office in fractured and distorted reflections. And then—

A dull, heavy thud as it struck the wooden floor, rolling a few inches before settling. The sound wasn’t sharp or catastrophic, but as you stepped closer, a dreadful chill crawled up your spine. A thin, jagged crack marred the smooth surface, a single imperfection that felt far worse than if it shattered completely.

You sank to your knees, hands trembling as you reached for it, cradling the cool sphere with cautious reverence. Larissa’s presence within seemed unclear, her expression unreadable. The air around you thickened, weighted with something unseen yet deeply felt. Your breath came in shallow bursts, shock gripping you in place.

Alison scoffed, crossing her arms. “Oh, come on, it didn’t even break.”

Your head snapped up, and for the first time since she walked back into your life, true anger burned behind your eyes. “You don’t get it,” you let out, your voice barely above a whisper, yet it carried, sharp and unrelenting. “You have no idea what you’ve just done.”

Alison shifted on her feet, her bravado faltering. “I was trying to get you to listen to me,” she insisted, but her voice lacked its previous certainty.

You exhaled sharply, pressing your palm against the damaged crystal as if you could will it whole again. “I was listening,” you voiced simply. Your gaze was piercing, and your eyes flashed a warning to Alison. “But you didn’t like what you heard.”

Before she could attempt to twist the situation further, you rose to your feet, carefully placing the crystal ball back onto its secured stand. Turning to Alison, you straightened your posture. “You need to leave Nevermore’s grounds at once. If necessary, I will have security escort you. And Alison—I don’t think you want to be dragged out by a golem.”

Alison’s eyes widened, startled by your decisiveness. She was not used to this version of you, the one who held firm instead of bending. “Why are you making this such a big deal?”

“Because I’m done,” you said with finality. “I don’t know what I ever saw in you, but I’m grateful I can see clearly now. Goodbye, Alison.” Your footsteps were firm, resolute, as you strode to your desk and pressed the button to summon security. You didn’t watch her leave. You didn’t need to.

Once Alison left, hopefully forever, you turned back to Larissa’s damaged vessel, heart pounding with unspoken dread. What does this mean?

“Larissa, how do you feel? Are you well?” your voice was tender yet tinged with panic.

For a moment, there was silence, and then Larissa’s voice rang out, exasperated yet reassuring. “I could use some red wine right about now,” she murmured. “I’m a little shaken up, but yes, darling. I’m okay.”

Relief flooded through you, but as your fingers traced the crack in the crystal, one thought lingered—what would happen if the fracture grew?

—

The day of the ritual dawned bright and cold, the winter sun glinting off the frosted panes of Nevermore’s windows. You barely slept the night before, poring over the ancient tome you unearthed from the academy’s restricted section. You found an obscure incantation tucked within a dusty tome in the library. The spell was a delicate one—more art than science—and it demanded precision. One misplaced word or faltering syllable, and you might doom Larissa to an eternity in the glass. You knew it was risky, but you needed an answer, something tangible to address Larissa’s crystal ball predicament. You decided you wouldn’t go another day with her sphere cracked, threatening the connection and manifestation holding Larissa to the glass orb.

“Are you certain about this?” Larissa’s voice remained calm, though her expression betrayed a flicker of unease. She sat—or rather hovered—within the crystal sphere, her hands folded in her unseen lap as though she were merely preparing for another faculty meeting.

Your heart clenched at the sight. You reached out, your fingers brushing the cool surface of the sphere. “I’m sure, Larissa,” you said softly. “I’m not letting you stay trapped in there any longer. Especially after Alison almost broke your crystal ball.”

Larissa’s lips quirked into a faint smile. “Very well. Just promise me you won’t do anything foolish.”

“Too late for that,” you muttered, earning a soft chuckle from Larissa.

The ritual was set to take place in the privacy of the principal’s office, with wards cast to keep any curious students or staff from interrupting. You meticulously arranged the necessary components: a ring of salt around the sphere, candles placed at cardinal points, and a single drop of your own blood—a symbol of the bond you formed with Larissa over the months.

As the spell began, the room seemed to hold its breath. Your voice was steady, each word of the incantation resonating with an ancient power that thrummed through the air. The candles flickered wildly, their flames leaping about as if caught in a storm. The crystal sphere began to glow, a brilliant light emanating from within, illuminating Larissa’s serene yet expectant face. As you chanted the words, magic crackled in the air, filling the room with an almost unbearable brightness.

And then, the shattering. It wasn’t the loud, explosive sound you anticipated. Instead, it was a soft, almost melodic breaking, like the chime of distant bells. The light intensified, forcing you to shield your eyes, and when it finally dimmed, you blinked rapidly to clear your vision.

Larissa Weems stood before you. The crystal sphere laid shattered on the floor, and standing in its place was Larissa. Her full height—stately, commanding—took up the room in a way you didn’t expect.

She was breathtaking. Her silvery-blonde hair caught the candlelight, and her storm-blue eyes met yours with a mixture of wonder and gratitude. She was tall—so much taller than you imagined—and every inch of her radiated the elegance and authority you came to associate with her voice. Her long, statuesque frame was clad in a white suit that hugged her in all the right places, her presence almost magnetic. Your gaze lingered, your breath hitching as Larissa’s lips parted, a small smile curling at the edges.

“Oh,” you said faintly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Larissa’s lips curved into a warm smile. “Oh?” she echoed, arching a graceful brow while brushing glass dust from her pristine white suit.

“You’re… you’re really tall,” you blurted, the words tumbling out before you could stop yourself. You had so many thoughts, and yet, that was the one that escaped. 

Larissa laughed, a rich, melodic sound that had filled the room. “And you’re as charming in person as you were through glass.” She took a step forward, and your breath caught in your throat. “Thank you,” Larissa breathed softly, her voice carrying a depth of emotion that made your chest tighten. “For everything.” Her hand reached out, her fingers brushing your cheek with a featherlight touch that threatened to have goosebumps rise over your skin.

You could only nod, your throat too tight to form words. Larissa’s elegance, height, beauty… all of it left you breathless. The warmth of Larissa’s hand lingered, and the faint scent of jasmine and tuberose filled the air once again.

—

Life with Larissa no longer confined to a crystal ball was… an adjustment. For months, you were accustomed to her presence as a voice from your desk or a comforting shimmer of light on an eye-level shelf. Now, she was here—fully, gloriously here—and the height difference was only the first of many things you needed to get used to.

It started with small things—like Larissa reaching up to hand you a book you needed, only for you to realize you couldn’t quite meet her gaze without tilting your head back. This was a fact that Larissa seemed to find endlessly amusing, her eyes always sparkling endearingly. There was the way Larissa filled a room, her presence as impressive in the flesh as it was in the sphere. Or when Larissa leaned over you while you worked, her shadow cast across the desk like a protective canopy.

There were other moments, too—moments that made you realize just how much your dynamic has shifted. Larissa’s proximity was intoxicating, her scent enveloping you and making it hard to focus. All you wanted was to be near her now that you two could finally touch. There was an electricity between you two that neither of you were able to ignore, a magnetic pull that made every brush of fingers or shared glance feel charged.

And then there were the kisses. Oh Gods, the kisses. The first time you gathered the courage to kiss her one evening—emboldened by the soft glow of candlelight—you forgot just how tall Larissa was. You leaned up onto your tiptoes, wobbling slightly as Larissa caught you by the waist and cupped your cheek to steady you, her smile indulgent.

“You’re adorable,” Larissa insisted, tilting her head down to meet you halfway.

“You’re... tall,” you replied mousily and breathless once again.

“You’re just noticing?” Larissa teased. Her lips were soft as silk, and the kiss was slow and lingered. It left you wanting more. So much more. Larissa’s hands slid to your hips, her grip firm but tender, and you found yourself melting into her, your hands fisting in the fabric of her suit to keep steady.

“This would be easier if you were a little shorter,” you remarked against her lips, earning another laugh from Larissa. Mmm, I could get used to this.

“Or if you were a little taller,” she countered, her eyes sparkling with amusement. Larissa’s fingers trailed lightly along your jaw and then neck, her touch sending delicious shivers down your spine.

Over time, you found your own ways to adapt. You learned to stand a little straighter, to reach a little higher, and to embrace the moments when Larissa effortlessly scooped you into her arms with surprising strength. Larissa, for her part, seemed to delight in your determination, often teasing you with a raised brow or a playful smirk. 

Beneath the teasing was a deep and abiding affection, a bond forged over months of shared secrets and quiet nights spent working together. Larissa’s freedom from the crystal ball may bring challenges, but it has already brought substantial joy—the kind of joy that made your heart swell every time Larissa’s laughter echoed through the halls of Nevermore.

And if you needed to stretch onto your tiptoes for the occasional kiss? Well, you decided, it’s a small price to pay for the privilege of standing beside Larissa Weems.

[cosmicanemoia]

There aren't enough jealousy fics in any platform known to mankind.

I'm a sucker for jealousy fics, and I can't be the only one. Right?

Like, where are the rests of fanfic where (romanoff/maximoff/weems/mills/schemmenti/etc...) going feral because they think someone wants to steal their lady (reader)???

[fadingdaggerr]

Hey, I have just read heaven’s gate ( Larissa weems x reader ) and absolutely loved it! Is there any chance for a part two? Thank you x

pearlescent (18+ minors, dni)

pairing: larissa weems x gn!reader

summary: part two of heaven’s gate | 4.5k

includes: lesbians too in love for their own good, fluff

warnings: kissing/making out, sexual innuendo, afab reader (no breasts described for r), smut (fingering (L/r), oral (L), thigh riding (L)) can u tell i like eating pussy

note: first non-melissa post in over a year to bring me back from hiatus. thank u for ur patience. i feel like those wattpad writers that are like “just got out of a coma here’s a fic”

The smooth paving of the highway becomes bumpy and uneven as you pass the final gas station between here and your destination. Every pothole the car jumps over is like a shot of espresso through your aching joints. After the last stop, you promised yourself to drive straight through. Another stop would mean another chance to acknowledge the numbing of your ass after five hours in the car, and with one hour left, you’re not risking it. You really weren’t kidding when you said that teleportation would be much more useful.

Cell service is quickly obsolete as you continue through the woods, scanning the road for any squirrels that may decide that today was the day. Drumming against the steering wheel, you let your mind wander. Maybe coming without telling her is a bad idea, but it also has the potential not to be. She had begged you to drive to her just two days after she left, and you would have, if only your client hadn’t walked in the door. Dueling busy schedules made two months pass like molasses, longing to drop everything and hitchhike if you had to. Would the lack of alerting her put her off? Gods, you hope not.

A sudden shift of turbulent driving to a slight jostle of cobblestone removes you from the swirling doubt in your mind, peeking towards the sign you’re approaching. Green and rusting, white lettering reads: Welcome to Jericho! The Salem of Vermont. You find yourself glad someone took the time to graffiti over the last bit.

Ignoring the anxiety climbing your spine, you keep going, and going, and going, and going, until you finally break through the treeline. Out of nowhere sits the cutest town you think you’ve ever seen, with little brick shops with murals and a gazebo with the remains of New Year’s decor still hanging on. It makes sense why people would want to come here, why she would choose to stay.

In an attempt to not draw more attention than an outsider already gets, let alone an outcast one, you don’t linger on viewing the quaint town of Jericho. There’s better views awaiting you later, at the very castle-like building you can see on the high hill. Looming in a shadow, one that doesn’t extend over the rest of the town, sits Nevermore in all its glory. The corners of your lips turn up into a small smile, the view is nostalgic, bringing back the memories of your time at Byron’s.

The memory brings a reminder to the forefront of your mind, and with cell service restored, now is the best time. Carefully, and without taking your eyes off the road, you navigate to your favorite contacts.

“Hello, my angel!”

You chuckle, “it’s just me.”

“Fuck, nevermind then,” Parker grumbles, “so you’re not there yet?”

“I’m pulling up in a second, just wanted to let you know now before I can’t.”

A characteristic cackle comes from the other end, “gonna jump her bones immediately, I see, I see. Can’t say I blame you, she makes me question things about myself.”

“This is exactly why I called you before getting here,” you chuckle, pulling through the front gates, “but I gotta go now.”

“Yes, yes, go get slutted out, harlot. Just please call me sometime, so I can talk with the love of our lives,” Parker begs.

“I’m telling Max you said that,” you deadpan, hanging up just as you hear a rushed wait!

—☽—

For a town so small minded, from what you’ve been told, you’re more than surprised to find that you are able to walk into Nevermore unnoticed. Some students stand around, talking amongst themselves, but none seem to pay you any mind, likely thinking you’re just another teacher. Using the anonymity to your advantage, you slow your pace, listening in carefully. A gorgon walks by you, the only student at this time that seems to be carrying any school supplies.

You mentally scold yourself for stereotyping her studious behavior before you focus in on her mind. Your consciousness runs through hers, searching through test anxieties and hockey tryout concerns, until you find what you need. The literature wing, I could’ve guessed that. Coming back into your own mind, you’re already speeding up the stairs before your pupils return to their normal size.

Passing another student two stories up, you pray the siren knows which office you need, yet they don’t. Neither do the werewolves or the seer. Do you guys even go to classes? You’re about to give up on the full surprise, headache seeping in from all the mindreading of anxious teenagers. Just before you exit the hallway entirely, you actually look up from your feet, and you mentally smack yourself upside the head for not just reading the plaques on the doors.

With a renewed pep in your step, you keep just shy of running as you read every door. Finally, you reach a door that has a newer plaque compared to neighboring ones, serif font unscathed by age. Professor L. Weems, Department of Literature. Your heart skips a beat at the mere sight of her name. Noticing the door being cracked open, you push it open slightly more, hoping your search ends here.

Hunched over an antique desk, red-framed glasses perched on her nose with a pen spinning between her fingers, she doesn’t seem to notice the attention on her. It’s hard to pry yourself away from watching her, when holding her is seemingly moments away. Pushing the door the rest of the way open, you knock on the doorway with shaking knuckles.

A huff passes scarlet lips as Larissa peers up, a brief, disinterested gaze passing over her features. The pen in her hand stills, falling to the desk with a small clatter. Blue eyes widen as she stares unwaveringly at you. Fidgeting under her gaze, you smile nervously, “was- uh- was looking for professor Weems? Know her, by any chance?”

In no less than a blink, Larissa is rounding her desk at top speeds, crashing into your body as her arms wrap around your neck. Nearly falling into the hall, you just barely keep the two of you up, leaning into her to walk her backwards. One hand grips her waist as the other blindly reaches for the door to shut it, quickly coming back to bury into her hair. Your face tucks into her neck, brushing your nose against her skin, breathing her in.

“You’re here,” Larissa says quietly, disbelieving.

“I’m here,” you mumble against her warm skin, “couldn’t wait any longer.”

A sigh of relief passes plush lips, “and you didn’t think to tell me?”

“Surprise, it’s a noun,” you joke, pressing a soft kiss to the expanse of her neck, relishing in the way she shudders at the contact. There’s no reply except for her arms tightening around you, wordlessly telling you that this surprise is one she likes.

Pulling back from you suddenly, Larissa just stares at you, blue eyes taking in every feature, lingering on your lips before flicking back to your eyes. Your hand moves from her waist to cup her cheek, stroking soft skin that you’d been longing to touch. She takes the invitation, leaning forward to press delicate lips against your own, slow and savoring. Your tongue traces her lips, tasting earl grey and lipstick as she lets you in. No struggle or search for dominance, simply a familiar dance you’d both dearly missed. The hand in her hair stays in place, keeping her close as the other traces her cheekbone and jaw, memorizing the feeling of her skin. Every piece of you missed her, and all of those pieces felt healed the moment her lips touched yours.

Pulling away slowly, both of you keep your eyes closed, simply existing in this moment. It takes a while for either of you to move away, but you feel giddy seeing Larissa’s pink cheeks and smudged lipstick. Your thumb drifts to her lips, wiping away the mess you’ve made, ignoring that you are likely equally covered. Soft lips press into the pad of your thumb, gentle and sweet.

“I cannot believe you’re here,” she whispers into the small space between you, “I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you,” you reply at the same volume.

It takes two hours for the halls of Nevermore to empty, students retreating to their rooms or to the quad, finally allowing a chance for the two of you to leave Larissa’s office. Silence seems to come over the school, however frightening it may be when dealing with teenagers, though neither of you mind as you simply exist in the spacious office. After weeks of phone calls that lasted most of the night, quiet amazingly comes easy.

Only a soft hum from the blonde breaks the silence, twisting her wrist to check her watch. Turning towards you slightly, she keeps a soft volume as she speaks, “how would you like a tour?”

“That sounds perfect, I only got to see the foyer and this hall,” you answer, nudging into her shoulder softly. “Was on a mission, I didn’t really get a chance to explore.”

“Sorry about that, but we’re not supposed to have visitors here,” she explains, “the campus has essentially been on lockdown since the nineties.”

You chuckle, reaching a hand out to draw her in. Her fingers slide across your palm before gripping, letting you tug her closer, “in that case, security might be too lax. I got in no problem.”

“You what?” Larissa stiffens, looking at you bewildered.

“I drove right through the gate, walked right in, no one even noticed me,” you chuckle, “just walked on up.”

Her lips purse as she tries to hide the laugh building in her chest, leaning in more, “you read a child’s mind to find me, didn’t you?”

It’s impossible to hide the wry grin on your face, “potentially.”

“Potentially,” she mimics, amused.

—☽—

Nevermore has officially put Byron’s Home to shame.

Every hallway is covered in paintings, Latin engravings littering every shelf, moon phases in different corners. It makes you wish you never set foot in that brick schoolhouse all those years ago. The conservatory alone almost made you weep; crawling vines and shining moonflowers, the feasting venus flytraps, and, your favorite, bleeding hearts. Larissa stands back and watches as your fingers ghost over petals, pressing lightly against the flytraps full belly, all with a deep fascination behind your eyes.

“I can’t believe you have this,” your voice echoes quietly in the room, “it- it’s incredible.”

Her silence throws you, immediately turning. The lost look in her eyes makes you falter, and where your typical instinct is to read, you instead step closer.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, reaching to run your fingers over her knuckles that stay clutching her shirt.

There have been many times where Larissa wished for different abilities, or no abilities at all. Right now, however, she wished for nothing more than your ability. She wished she could reach into your mind and see how you saw the world, how you see the flowers, how you see her. Seeing you now, how you watch her with more reverence than you grant what, in her mind, is a greater beauty, she knows she has a window into the limitless path your consciousness takes.

“Nothing at all. I just have one more place in mind,” she answers, hand lifting to stroke your cheek, lingering against your oddly cool skin. You nod wordlessly, letting your fingers intertwine with hers.

Hand held in Larissa’s, you let her lead you through the halls. She pauses to peak around every corner, terrified the two of you would be caught. Leading forward, more like tugging, she brings you towards a spiraling staircase. Letting her go first, she enters into a massive room, cool but comfortable, dark enough to rely on distanced golden lamps.

Floor to ceiling bookshelves line everywall, the familiar Latin etched into stone and wood alike. Ancient Greek, Cyrillic, and Tamil, first and second editions of texts you thought you’d only ever see inaccurate translations of. Sections of different outcast abilities, poetry from around the world, fables of the inception of different classes. Most have an unfortunate layer of dust over them, long ignored in interest of the clearly loved young adult section.

“You’re really trying to make me jealous,” you say breathily, “this place is incredible.”

“These are my favorite sections,” Larissa admits shyly, “I spend hours of my day here and never see another soul. It’s peaceful.”

“All by your lonesome?” There’s a slight mockery in your tone, “not alone now, are you though?”

Red lips curve into a smile as you step closer to her, fingers grazing up her side, slipping around her back to tug her closer. Hands rise to cup your face, eyes hooded as she takes you in. Pupils blown and lip between your teeth, she doesn’t want to deny herself the view nor the pleasure. Leaning into your space, her nose brushes yours, lips just barely ghosting.

You know she’s teasing, even with closed eyes, you can sense her smile. Tilting, you capture her lips, sighing at the contact. The moment your tongue brushes her bottom lip, a switch in Larissa flips, pushing you back into the shelving behind you. Sliding from your face, her hands grip your waist, clutching with an unnecessary urgency. Meeting her pace, your fingers weave into her updo, pulling hairs loose as you try to keep her closer than she physically can manage.

The muffled boom of a door on the other side of the shelf forces you to jump apart, wide eyes looking at each other like deer in headlights. Cheeks puff as you try not to laugh, Larissa immediately pulls you out of the library, forcing you into a jog as you run towards a different end of the building.

—☽—

Carefully, she guides you upstairs, praying that no other teachers or students are around to see her sneaking someone in. Both of you struggle to keep your giggling in, the juvenile nature of it all making you fluttery.

Coming up to a white door, you see another plaque reading Dormitory Parent. Unlocking the door with a strong wiggle, Larissa motions for you to walk in first, quickly shutting the door behind her and latching it. Leaning against it, she lets out a sigh.

Larissa doesn’t get a chance to move closer before your lips press against hers once more. This time, neither of you waste a second, no longer nerved up by the chance of someone walking in again. Timid brushing of lips is forgone as her tongue bullies its way into your mouth, stroking yours with a gentle dominance that has your knees weak.

Wanting hands grip at her waist as she pushes her backwards, leading you further into her quarters until you’re backed into a wall. Lips move from yours and trail down your chin to your neck, teeth passing over your pulse. A groan leaves your lips, hands scrambling to pull Larissa back to your lips, missing them greatly in the seconds they’ve been apart from yours. Feeling her smile against you makes your heart clench, needing more, anything she’s willing to give.

Pulling back from her lips only enough to speak, you ask, “bedroom?”

There’s no reply, only you being tugged from the wall and walked backwards further into the room. You’re so lost in her, her lips, her hands, her tongue, everything. The feeling of dropping onto the mattress is what brings you back in, eyes cracking open to see a lightly panting Larissa above you, lips parted and kiss-swollen. Lapis eyes flick over your face, expression similar to the one she wore when she first saw you, right on the cusp of relief and disbelief. She’s not unlike a goddess viewing her devotee.

Taking her moment of distraction as a tool for your benefit, you flip the two of you, happily taking in the new view of her beneath you. Hair of white gold splaying over the pillows, eyes wide, skin flushed, and entirely beautiful, Larissa Weems is a gift for your eyes only. The hand on her hip slides up, pushing the fabric of her dress with them as they climb. It’s a silent question, or more of a silent begging, hands impatient to feel her.

Larissa’s head rises off the pillow, lips pushing into yours, her hands going to yours to push them even higher, dress inching up more and more. As she wishes, you lift her dress, hands finding solace on plush thighs, laying your body between her legs. The familiarity of it makes you moan into her mouth, pure want running through your veins.

Hands close in on the lace covering her, lips moving to her neck for a chance to breathe, “can I take this off?”

“Yes,” she answers in a whiny tone, lifting herself off the mattress slightly.

You carefully, thought quickly, lower the zipper. Larissa strips the dress off her torso, letting your wanting hands take care of the rest. The world stops for a moment as you look down at her, skin luminescent against dark sheets, constellations of freckles dotted across her chest.

The blush crawling up her neck brings you back in, and you haphazardly shrug off your jacket and tear off your own shirt. Leaning back down, you forgo her lips to kiss down her neck, reveling in her skin beneath yours. Larissa moans softly as her hands wander down your back, around your torso, tugging at your belt, and you're quick to head her command. Greedy hands pull you back down on the bed, gripping at warm skin as your lips take purchase on her neck again.

Laying her back, you continue your path down, fingers taking her bra straps down with you. Eyes peek up to hers, silently asking permission. Larissa arches into you in response, and your lips wrap around a rosey nipple. Nails dig into your back as she moans beneath you, hips bucking against your. Satisfying her desire, you place a thigh between her legs as you continue to lavish her chest with affection.

An already soaked white thong becomes absolutely ruined as Larissa grinds steadily against your thigh, moaning huskily into open air. Continuing down, your thigh moves away as you near her heat. Fingers curling around the band of her panties, you pause, “may I?”

“Please, darling,” Larissa replies breathily, mouth hanging open as you toss the fabric across the room.

Mouthing at her thighs, you suck harder as you get closer, red marks painted across a white canvas. Reaching her slick pussy, your mouth nearly waters at the sight, descending on her immediately. Her hips rock just as quickly, trying to ride your face as your tongue swipes through her folds. Savory wetness covers your chin, nose just barely rubbing against her clit.

Tilting up, you allow your lips to wrap around her button, sucking gently. The gasps Larissa emits above you only egg you on further, hand moving from her thigh to her entrance. Your middle finger slowly pushes into her, pumping carefully before adding your index. Her walls grip your fingers snugly, trying to keep you there. Her hips never still, and you force them down with your free hand as you focus your attention on her.

Alternating between sucking and licking her clit, combined with your fingers increasing pace inside her, has Larissa’s voice growing horse, moans turning to pitchy whines. Long legs wrap around your body, holding you snugly against.

Heavy whimpers fall from her lips. “Please,” she begs, “more, baby, please.”

Denying her when she’s asking so nicely, so prettily? You could never. Your ring finger lines with the others, pressing into her quickly. The stretch makes Larissa cry out above you, heels digging deeper into your back as your tongue swirled around her sex. It takes little time for her breathing to grow hoarse, mouth hanging open as her eyes squeeze shut.

Her breath hitches and hips still, essence coating your fingers as you watch her chest rise and fall rapidly, eyes finally reopening. Slowing your fingers, you retract from her, but in no way are you done just yet. Letting go of her clit with a small pop, you drag your tongue down to languidly traverse her folds, taking in her full taste.

Probing inside her, you relish in the breathy whine that comes from her throat. Pulling back, you flatten your tongue, swiping across her cunt. Trailing up, passing her navel, the dip in her ribs, you take a quick pass over her nipple, swirling softly. Grabby hands pull at you, tugging you back to her lips. Moaning at her own taste, Larissa’s body arches into you, heat brushing over your thigh once again.

Hand trailing up from her thigh, you pull back from her lips, offering your fingers in place of your tongue. Fading red lips wrap around your digits, her own tongue swirling, cheeks hollowing. You can feel your eyes glazing over as you watch her greedily taste herself, gently and unknowingly grinding on your thigh.

Letting go, Larissa takes your stupor to flip you over. Staring down with cool blue eyes with a mysterious fire. Wandering lower and lower, they trace over your own underwear, slick from pleasing her. The whimper you let out only eggs her on, rubbing you over the fabric.

“Riss…” you manage out, already breathless from her touch, “baby…”

A low hum leaves her throat, hand sliding under to make contact with you. Long fingers slide through wetness as lips attach themselves to your neck. Two fingers slide into you, slowly, her thumb makes tight, firm circles over your clit, making you keen into her. The pressure building in your core, that had been steadily growing since the library, feels so overwhelming with her all over you now.

Feeling you trying to ride her slow hand, she speeds up, taking over for you as your moans quickly become airy. Under her lips, she feels your heart beating wildly. For her. All for her.

Her scent, her taste, her hands, her tongue, all of her was all over you. Her teeth scrape against your skin as her fingers curl, making you groan. The hand not in her hair splays across her back, desperate to keep her close. Feeling the want dripping from you, her fingers speed up, almost bullying gummy walls that cling to her.

Tugging her by her hair, you bring her to your lips. Open mouth and messy, you’re barely kissing, just moaning into her mouth as she presses harder to your button, bucking into her hand. You can’t find it in yourself to feel embarrassed about how quickly she got you here, how quickly you’ve become putty beneath her.

Deciding she needs to taste her hard work sooner rather than later, her fingers just barely spread inside you, stretching you. The motion makes you erupt in a silent scream, clinging more to her as you feel the coil in your stomach begin to snap.

“C’mon darling,” she husks against your throat, “give it to me. I know you want to.”

Her words are your undoing, the sheer need in her voice and the feeling of her inside you was enough to snap the band. The whines from you turn into breathy pants, hands on Larissa still holding her close as her fingers slow. As she tries to remove them, you close your legs around her wrist, locking her in place. Her lips drag up your neck, capturing your own, sighing into your mouth as your fingers scratch gently at her scalp.

Lazy kisses last until the post-orgasm warmth leaves your body, shivering slightly at the cool air that you can finally feel tickling your skin. Legs unclamp her hand, allowing her to draw back. You nearly cum on the spot watching her suck your release off, moaning softly against her own fingers.

“Keep doing that and you’re not leaving this bed for a week,” you mumble beneath her.

She chuckles, rolling off to lay on the bed beside you, “I can’t say I’d be opposed.”

Just facing her, watching her chest rise and fall, rosy cheeks slowly returning to their normal color, you’re in awe. Freshly fucked and still perfect, Larissa Weems is a miracle. Laying on your side, you trace your fingers up and down her side, following the path of silver stretch marks and faint freckles. You push yourself forward, pressing yourself into her warm body, adoring how her arms immediately wrap around you.

“I missed you,” she whispers, as if she’s not sure you’d share her sentiment.

You press a kiss to her collarbone, “I missed you more.”

There’s a few minutes of silence before you feel Larissa chuckle beneath you. You hum in question. She squeezes you briefly, “would you like dinner?”

Another pause. You both giggle as you try to walk out of the room with a small waver in your steps.

—☽—

When your eyes open, you think it’s the sun cracking through the curtain that pulls you from the depths of slumber. A piercing ring breaks through the tiredness, bringing your attention to your phone. Your groan is met in tandem by Larissa’s, who shoves her head into her pillow further, arm tightening around your waist. Stretching in her grasp, you mentally prepare for what you know is coming. The little shit has a radar.

“No,” you say the moment you bring the phone to your ear.

“Oh sweet angel, I miss how nice you are,” Parker sing-songs, “did I wake you from your slutty slumber?”

“Yes, both of us. Dick,” you grumble, “you have zero consideration.”

“Give my real friend the phone, I’m done with you,” he says, though you know he’ll never leave you alone. Even when you eventually die.

“Baby, it’s for you,” you say as you pull the phone away from your ear. Larissa peeks one eye at you, clearly irritated. Parker, you mouth. You wish it wasn’t so endearing how quickly she perked up. Sitting up, she nods, motioning for you to put her on speaker.

“Hello, Parker,” she utters through a yawn.

“My love! How are you? Achy? Tired? In need of a better lover?”

“I’m great,” Larissa chuckles, “and yes, yes, and no, most definitely not.” Her eyes stay on you as she answers, peeking down at your lovingly annoyed expression.

The rest of the call is simply Parker talking at Larissa, rather than to her, while you shake your head at his antics. Curling back into her side, you let them talk as you watch her face. She seems at ease, a stark contrast from the stressed Larissa you’d seen when you first looked in her office. She’s less imposing, loose hair and smudged makeup, a smile playing on her lips as she listens to Parker’s plans for a surprise two month anniversary gift for Max.

In the walls of her bedroom. In bed with you. Breathing the same air. Perfection lies beside you.

note: if i could rewrite the entirety of part one i would. but i guess that shows growth in writing or whatever

feedback appreciated as always

[doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou]

MASTERLIST

SCHOOL FOR GOOD AND EVIL

Leonora Lesso (Lady Lesso)

Soft Spot

Once Upon A Dream

Helpless

Simultaneously

Enough

Nemmy

Ever-Never

Oh, Lesso

What Does It Mean (1), Leave (2), Sharp and Heavy Hand (3)

Time For Myself

WEDNESDAY (NETFLIX)

Larissa Weems (Principal Weems)

Slow and Steady

What A Sad Sight (1), Her (2), Take It (3)

The Girl

Larissa

Time For Myself

Prophecies (1), Canis Minor (2)

ABBOTT ELEMENTARY

Melissa Schemmenti

Oiled Paintings, Protecting French Fry (2)

LAW AND ORDER: SVU

Rita Calhoun

Always

I Know

a/n: this is all my works here in this blog only.

p.s. my requests are open!

[dianneking]

The Affair - Chapter 2 (Larissa/Reader)

Hello everyone, here's the second installment to this little fic. Writing has been slow-going but the kind comments I got on chapter 1 both here and on AO3 were a great motivation to put in the work when I had the time and brainpower to do so. Hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Larissa Weems/You Rating: Mature Tags: Alcohol consumption, Morally Ambiguous Character, Swearing, Boss/Employee Relationship, Seduction, Second-person POV, Teacher Reader, Power Imbalance.

AO3 link in title below

< Previous Chapter - Next Chapter (tbc)

Chapter 2 - Private Booth

“I must admit this is highly unprofessional of me, but I cannot help but find you incredibly alluring, darling.” She murmured in your ear and you heard a breathy laugh exiting your mouth, feeling as if it came from miles away. 

You weren’t sure how the evening had evolved to this point, if you had to be perfectly honest. You were sure you both had been the picture of professionality at the start of your dinner together, sitting primly at the table in the private booth, ordering a light meal and talking about lesson plans and your previous work experiences.

You had been nervous, but except for the unusual setting, it hadn’t been that different from countless other meetings you’d had with principals. And, you mused as you took a bite of your salad, to be honest you appreciated having this conversation over food for once instead than in a stuffy office. 

Was it some sort of cultural difference that outcasts had? Or was it a peculiarity of the woman sitting in front of you? She seemed like someone who was more than able to disregard rules if she wanted to. 

You found yourself liking that, despite your usual aversion for rule breaking.

Then…then Larissa (she had asked you to call her Larissa at some point, you were sure of that) Larissa had offered to share a bottle of wine “to toast together at a fruitful collaboration” and you had had half a mind to turn the offer down, but found yourself agreeing. Why the hell not? It had been ages since you drank some good wine, and your principal looked like the kind of woman who’d only choose good alcohol. 

“You have great taste,” you had commented, sipping on your first glass, and it had been at that moment that you had felt the energy in the booth starting to shift. She had dabbed her mouth on her napkin, and let her eyes roam over your figure for a handful of seconds more than it was polite to do before replying, “Oh of course. I very rarely lose my time when it’s not worth it.” Her lips had curved up in a smirk and you had had to take another sip of that wine to give time to your suddenly galloping heart to slow down a bit. Surely she was still talking about the wine, wasn’t she?

But then the conversation had moved on and you thought you had imagined the flirty undertone. Surely she wouldn’t be the type to do something like that, would she? Even if you hadn’t actively sought out gossip, surely you would have heard if Nevermore’s principal was a serial seducer, right? 

Larissa had been an extremely pleasant conversationalist, and often you found yourself invested in the latest anecdote from one of her travels, or her opinion on one subject or another. You laughed at her recounting of the antics of her students, and were amazed at the lavish traditions of Nevermore that she insisted on educating you on. 

You could have listened to her talk all night long, looking at how her face danced with emotions, how the passion she had for her job and her loyalty to her school shone in her voice as well as her eyes. And the way she ran her tongue against her teeth every now and then had you completely mesmerized. You were hanging on her lips and had given up feeling self conscious about it. You wanted to know more about this mysterious lady. You wanted to know all that she’d be willing to tell you.

And you were acutely aware that you still hadn’t discovered what exactly had happened that had left her for several months on sick leave. The students talked of an attack of undead  to the school but you were sure those were exaggerations, and that there was a less…fanciful explanation. Teenagers are known for making a big deal out of small mundanities. Even taking that into account, it seemed like mysteries surrounded this woman, wrapping around her like the subtle yet lingering scent of her perfume. 

“You smell amazing.” You had blurted out, and almost clapped a hand over your own mouth, horrified at your sudden boldness. That was not something to say to your boss who apparently still had the power to fire you if she somehow found you lacking! 

But she hadn’t bristled, nor had she seemed in any way angry or offended. She had simply chuckled lightly, and busied herself with swirling wine inside her glass with slow, hypnotic movements.

“Thank you, dear. It’s Ambre Nuit, by Dior, obviously.”

“...Obviously.” You had parroted back, even though you knew nothing about perfumes and even less about Dior. Your eyes were glued to her hand, still cradling the bowl of the wine glass. You had not noticed until now just how long and tapered and beautiful her fingers were. How effortlessly they curled on the glass shoulder to loosely swirl its contents. A part of you wondered how those hands would feel on your body.

“You know? You could smell it even better if you came to sit beside me…there’s plenty of space on this bench…” her voice had trailed off, and it might have been the wine coursing in your system, but this time you felt like you could almost taste the promises in her voice. 

And that’s how you had found yourself squeezed besides her on the bench, your thigh pressed against hers, the fabric of her dress and of your trousers the only thing separating your skin from making contact with hers. You were acutely aware of how dimmed the lights had been in the private booth, and how the waiters had stopped coming around after they had delivered your desserts. 

A perfect setup, suggested the romantic part of your brain, a part that was often overlooked and laid dormant in the day to day routine.

A perfect trap, countered the more cynical part, who couldn't help but wonder how many times had the beautiful woman beside you put on this show for her latest prey. 

It just all seemed so effortless for her. She mixed her flirting (it had to be flirting by now, right?) with more easygoing topics, she kept topping your glass off with that lovely wine, as well as drinking just as much herself. One part red flag, one part irresistible temptation.  

And it was at that point that she had leaned over, and you had felt her breath hot on your ear, and you were sure you had drank way too much wine because just that little puff of air made your skin erupt in goosebumps and your head spin. 

“I must admit this is highly unprofessional of me, but I cannot help but find you incredibly alluring, darling.”

“I must be dreaming” you said before your common sense could stop you, the tingling of your giggle still in your throat.

But not even in your wildest dreams could you have imagined how her hand felt as it fell on your thigh, light as a feather, but making your skin burn white hot even through the fabric.. 

“Well I suppose I’ll have to pinch you then.”

---------------

Want more? Here's my fanfiction masterlist

Taglist: @barbarasstar @peggycarter3 @aemilia19

[rippersz]

(ᴄᴏᴄᴋ)ʏ

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(A Larissa Weems x Fem!Reader ~1.5K Word Oneshot) (NSFW: G!P; Face-Fucking; Lewd Language; Praise; Mommy Kink)

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Fuck, she felt good.

So good.

So heavenly. So right.

Even in the state she was in, moaning and huffing and growling with desire, head thrown back with her eyes bared to the ceiling. As though she was thanking the gods for your body and the pleasure you were willing to give her. No. Not give her. The pleasure you were willing to give up. That she was willing to take. Grasping your head in the way that she was, her knuckles turning red and bruised with the way she wedged them between your hair and the wall. Digging her fingers into your locks as though she’d make it to your skull if she pressed hard enough. Just keeping you there. Keeping you just right.

“Don’t move,” she panted earlier, her accent coming second to the raspy husk of her tone. So deep in pleasure she was- so lost to her own instincts.

Your poor lover. Your dear Larissa. She’d regret being so rough in a few hours, when you have trouble moving your neck and your throat is raw and scratchy - but you’ll comfort her as you always do and tell her that if she asked to do it again in a few days, you wouldn’t hesitate to say yes.

As it were, she didn’t even ask. The situation simply fell into both sets of your hands. Your pretty darling, unable to take care of herself after she got ready for the banquet, nearly out the door when the mental image of you in lingerie had her stumbling back to the bed and nearly ripping off her panties with haste to take her ecstasy into her own hands. And then you, walking into the room to grab her and greet the guests, only to find her on the side of the bed, rutting against her slim pretty fingers. She looked beautiful in her sweet flush-cheeked glory, but her palm was slippery and clumsy and she hadn’t gotten herself off in so long that you just had to help. How cruel it would have been to leave her like that.

And so, as you teased, came the escalation.

And so, as you moaned around her length, the true admittance of desire.

And so, your head pressed against the wall, your legs trembling and spread out in front of you, and the weight of her cock pressed against the back of your throat. Bullying it to bruise as she pumped her hips with unmatched strength and then held you there, her plush thighs quivering when your lips and nose pressed to the light curls at the base of her cock. Sheathing herself inside you, using you with a pathetic amount of need. Doubled over at the waist and eyes rolling back with an overwhelming- burning- amount of pleasure once your body’s instincts kick in and your throat squeezes the sensitive curve of her shaft. Constricting around her to the point where it makes you both ache and it makes your chest stutter and she’s forced to wrench herself away while pushing your head back against her fingertips, even though there’s nowhere else for you to go. Huffing and puffing and breathing so deeply while she watches you gasp for breath and shiver.

Eyes meeting while the spit from the red of your lips and the pink tip of her cock only spiderwebs and dips - not even destroyed by gravity before she’s pushing herself forward again and pressing herself to your mouth; waiting with desperate wanting eyes as you recover and open yourself up for her again. And again. And again - and again - and again. Over and over and over. Until your vision is blurred with tears, and your face is warm and stiff from some long dried and some still falling, collecting by your chin to mix with the drool that spills from your lips. A steady stream of your devotion, given and taken willingly - with enthusiastic consent as she pushed you against the wall and lined you up with her cock and you nearly fell over the edge on the spot; happy to help your darling lover. Happy to have her want you. Happy to please her and listen to her whines as she feels herself get close.

“P-please- right there- yes. T-take it. Take it. Deeper. Yesss.” Arching her back and clenching the muscles in her legs, making you moan with appreciation at the feel of her strength beneath your hands. Palms running over her calves and her shins and her thighs, desperate to make her feel good- so good. And letting your own eyes close when she leans over and whimpers, trying to control her breathing long enough to praise you. To tell you-

“Good- ungh- girl - fuck, oh gods- so- so good to me- f-for me… for- Mo-Mommy!” Both of your bodies humming with pure delight when she gives herself her honorable title, inhaling on a sharp breath before the most erotic moan slips out of her perfectly painted mouth. Red lips opening and closing, white teeth pressing together, hissing and growling as you tug her closer and keep her cock in your throat; the weight of it pressed to your tongue, the feel of it against the roof of your mouth as you try to swallow. All of it heavenly and soft and something divine as she slows down and eases herself in as far as she can go- until your chin brushes the softness of her balls and the tip of your nose prods the ticklish curls near her groin.

“Through your nose, darling,” she speaks slowly, softly, her beautiful chest rising and falling with short breaths as you do as told and take a moment to fight through the instinctive urge to gag. Allowing time to slow as you keep your eyes on hers and watch her nod while a slow smile crawls across her lips- unspoken praise falling from her as she hears and sees the way you inhale, inhale, inhale, hold it, and then exhale, exhale, exhale - your throat working around her cock while you train yourself to take it.

Always.

Any day.

Anywhere.

Your lower back numb from the feeling of sitting on the floor for so long, your panties ruined beyond belief as you leak and twitch and throb in tandem with your lover’s body, your brain fuzzy and your throat sore and your ears kind of ringing - but finding none of it matters when she looks down at you with wide eyes and feels you moan around her length and is suddenly pressing you so close, so hard, that you can’t breathe at all.

Drooling and groaning and whimpering as she pumps herself into your warm mouth, hips moving like mad with unchecked desire as her breath catches in her throat.

“Oh baby- baby I’m gonn- gonna- fuck darl-ing. Momm-Mommy’s gonna- gonna cum- please- pleasepleaseplease- please let me-”

And you don’t even hesitate to nod, using your tongue to lap at the sides of her pretty cock as she moves, silently begging her to cum down your throat- hard and fast and pleasurable enough to see fucking stars- as tears build in your eyes. Blinking them away quickly, your nails digging into her thighs, your body in flames with ecstasy as she meets your gaze and her lips fall open and she whimpers your name in a small squeak while the thick of her cock twitches. Spasms. Folded over you, forehead nearly pressed to the wall, as she keeps you there- keeps you there- keeps you there-

-yes!

Yes!

Fuck Larissa! Fuck you feel so- so- good- god yes!

And a fulfilling, satisfying warmth spills down the back of your throat, fast and thick as she shudders and groans and feels the way you constrict around her when you swallow it all without pause. Like it’s second nature, taking it like your life’s fucking duty, such a good little cockslut for Larissa Weems as you close your eyes and ignore the tears and the drool and the burn and the numb and the desire and instead focus on the way she finally breathes with unparalleled relief. Knowing her sweet girl is there to take her cum whenever she wants- to feel her in her throat or around her fingers or her tongue or resting on her lips- always eager to be of service. To be a good girl and take your Mommy like the desperate little whore you are. Her chest filling with breath while the last of her climax runs through her body; her pretty cock twitching and throbbing with aftershocks until the last of her cum is lapped up and you’re pushing against her thighs - telling her with as much kindness as you can for her to step back so you don’t pass out. And when she does, shivering and taking her hands away from your head and gently leaning it against the wall to slide stray bits of hair back behind your ears, your own chest heaves with delight. Grateful for the air, savoring the last of her in your mouth- salty and human and all hers, and happy to remove your shaking hands from her thighs so you can reach up and wipe the spit from your mouth.

“You did so well for me darling,” you hear her hum a moment later. “You always do.”

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My fucking dream come true. Have a good day. Love you lots. - Rip x

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(Too tired for tags today sorry darlings)

[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.”

[plush4bunny]

She turns her attention to the tray and her eyes widen "Are you feeding an army?" She inquires, staring at all the dishes.

"One principal actually."

She swats your shoulder lightly before she tucks her long legs neatly sideways as she leans her back against the headboard "I hope you will join me."

- scene from @chrism02’s 5th chapter from their Larissa Weems x reader fic called “Trial and error”

[crow-raven-crow]

hi this is a very simple and kinda vague request, but i'd luv a larissa x fem reader fic involving feet or hand play? either that or something involving the reader realizing she really likes how larissa smells when she comes home from work and larissa starts to tease her and encourages her to smell her while they're fucking because of that. maybe both! hope this isn't too weird lol

𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐓𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡

𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 - [𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝟏𝟖+]

✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧

𝐋𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐚 𝐖𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐬 𝐱 𝐟!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: ~3k 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬/𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: fluff !! teasing, NSFW, Reader receiving, g!p Larissa, hand kink, choking kink, slight marking, vaginal fingering, mirror sex, begging, praise kink, mommy kink, shape shifted dick, what a way to come back ohmygods

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: see above

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

AO3 link in title ✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧

✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧

The crackling fireplace painted dancing shadows against the dark walls, creating a show of golden hues just feet before you. The warmth emanating from the soft flames filled you with a peaceful comfort with each bursting ember. Soft, worn pages of a book sat in your hands, the universe that it created in your mind was almost impossible to keep up with, as it kept clouding over with thoughts of her.

The mere thought of her name casted a spell over your senses, making your heart swell and your stomach fill with butterflies. Images of her echoed through your mind, your heart quickening in pace as you did so. You were so consumed with the show of her in your mind, that the book had become long forgotten, as your eyes focused on the flickering firelight.

You felt the rumble of her laughter echo in the chambers of your mind, the softness of her touch as though it was tracing invisible patterns against your skin, the tenderness of her lips as they kissed along your body as though it was a masterpiece, the pleasure of her tongue as though she-

The metallic sound of a key turning in the lock cut through the quiet of your quarters, closing all previous thoughts and jolting you back into reality. The world outside your thoughts immediately rushed back in, leaving only the lingering emotions of them in their place. Your chest heaved slightly, a noticeable heat rushing to your face and making your whole body hot as you caught onto your most recent thoughts.

You quickly composed yourself, inhaling deeply in attempt to settle the small heat igniting within you. Standing slowly as you let out the breath, you placed your book onto the side table, the pages neglected as the fire still roared on and danced behind you. You stepped closer as the door slowly swung open, an excitement filling your chest knowing that she stood behind it. The sight of her stilled the air in your lungs, your lips parting ever so slightly as you took in her beauty.

Her white hair, almost glowing with the light of the flames behind you, was perfectly pinned in her flawless updo, each strand falling together perfectly with each other in every twist she pinned. The pin at the back of her head concealed the length of the silvery locks, but came together to show her grace and elegance all the same. The dress she wore clung onto her every curve, the sleek grey becoming a canvas to her form, allowing her sapphire eyes to pop with the cool tones. The collar of the dress flared out just enough to draw attention to her neck and the delicate lines of her collarbones. The belt that tied around her waist framed her hips in a way that made your mouth water. Gold accents adorned her wrists and neck, being the final touch of warmth that brought out the beauty of her tall frame.

As she entered the room, it was as though all the gods worked in her favor. The light from the flames lighting up her features, yet the dark colors of the room giving her command over it all if she were to say a word.

You must have been staring for too long, your eyes moving up and down along her form to drink in every detail that it snapped you back to the present when you felt her hand trace along your jawline. Her delicate fingers smoothed up the features of your face, cupping your cheek in her palm before laying a gentle kiss against your lips. It was warm, tender as though it was translating a million unsaid words: perfect.

"Hello, my dear.." Her voice was just as serene, overflowing with the happiness and love as though it were day one all over again. Her lips shadowed over your own as she spoke, delicate in all her movements as though she would break you like porcelain. The scent of her perfume overtook your senses, the intoxicating smell of her being so strong that it made your eyes roll back slightly and a deep breath of it fill your lungs.

"Hi, my love.." Your voice was just above a whisper, but running deep with the effect that she had on you. She had known for a while just how drunk you could get on the smell of her alone, and since then she made it a point to wear a little more every so often.

You allowed her to settle into your quarters, her heels quickly coming off with a distinct click of each heel. As she moved deeper into the room, all her items found their familiar homes, making your heart swell knowing this was a place of home to her. Your gaze lingered on her form, watching as comfort seemed to overtake her, her shoulders relaxing and her face coming to a content calm. It was hard not to fall in love with her all over again just at the simplest of things.

You followed behind her with two wine glasses and her favorite bottle, as she moved to sit on the couch in front of the fire. This was one of your favorite ways to unwind with her, and relishing in each others company was something that you would always cherish.

Though.. your thoughts from earlier always had a way of coming back in, especially now that she was even more of a delicious distraction being in front of you.

She spoke about her day, going through the details of her meetings and any particularly interesting emails she had to deal with today. The way she spoke with her hand was mesmerizing, easily capturing you in a trance due to your already heated thoughts about her, as your eyes devoured every detail of her long fingers. You felt your eyelids grow heavy, your breathing hitch and your mouth water as you remembered just what those fingers could do to you.. How she could so easily have you at her mercy.. digging into your flesh and leaving crescent marks in their wake, trailing along your skin and rising goosebumps with each pass, have your back arching and your hips swaying with one simple touch-

"Y/n.. Could you repeat what I just said, my dear?" Her voice shocked you back into your body, the rapid blinking of your eyes and the small jump when she had said your name giving you away immediately. She seemed amused at your blush, the pink hue only making a smirk come to her red painted lips as she caught on to where your thoughts were.

"I- U-Um.. You-" As you spoke, her fingers trailed up your arm, smoothly tracing against your skin and leaving electricity in her path. The rest of your words were cut off when her fingers made it to your collarbones, eventually curling their way around your throat and squeezing oh so gently.

The sensation made your eyes roll back as they fluttered shut, your fingertips gripping onto the hem of your skirt as you felt her move closer to your form, her breath ghosting over the shell of your ear. "What exactly is floating through the pretty head of yours, darling?"

You could feel your heart rate pick up, especially with her fingers resting just above your pulse point, and you were sure she could feel it too. The way your thighs clenched together and how a small whimper left your throat as she squeezed harder were all signs of how the night would go.

"Your- mmph.. your fingers.." Your chest heaved in pleasureful desperation as her lips moved down your neck, her fingers pushing against your jaw and allowing her room to flatten her tongue against your skin. Arousal shot right through to your core, and she'd barely even touched you.

She pushed you down slightly, your hair sprawling out against the cushion as she shifted perfectly between you legs. Her lips met yours in a hungry kiss, her tongue smoothing over your bottom lip as she pushed her hips against your core. Your gasp gave her the opportunity to explore your mouth, the opportunity to start to devour you..

Her fingers worked on the buttons of your collared shirt, quickly exposing more of your skin to her. When she reached the last button, she pulled the garment off completely and took a moment to trace over your skin, her lips gently pulling away from yours as her hands met the skin of your torso. Her fingers lightly scratched against your sides before smoothing their way up to beneath your breasts. Her thumbs worked their way under your bra, her fingertips smoothing over your nipples and causing a whimper to leave your throat.

Before long, your bra was discarded as well, her lips making their way down against your skin and leaving deep marks against it. One of your hands tangled into her hair, disrupting the perfect curls with each tug of pleasure you gave her. Once her tongue smoothed over your right bud, any hopes of staying quiet had left, the need for her building within you even before she was present. She worked on both buds, forming both into hard peaks and giving them both attention before she was satisfied.

When she moved up to capture your lips again, her gaze met blown pupils swirling with lust. You crashed your lips into hers, one hand pulling her in from the back of her neck while the other rested behind you for balance. She was quick to move you into her arms, carrying you to your bed with ease.

She sat down on the edge, placing you onto her lap after getting rid of the rest of your clothes, though slight confusion came over you when your back was to her front.

It didn't take you long to realize why, when she rested one hand back against your throat while the other toyed with your breasts. Your eyes darkened at the sight in front of you - you welcoming her fingers into your mouth with a deep moan, your legs spread open and showing your glistening folds - for the mirror in front of you gave you the best view of what was would come.

"Mmm.. you like Mommy's fingers, hmm?" You felt your brain short circuit at the sound of her voice, at the sound of her title making its way through your ears and building a home inside your rapidly beating heart. You felt the heat course through you as your tongue swirled around her digits, and it showed in the reflection that it was getting increasingly harder for you to wait the more you got drunk on her.

She pulled her fingers from your mouth with a trail of your saliva attached to the ends of them, your breathing labored and filled with lust as you looked into her eyes through the reflection. She nipped the skin of your shoulder, while her other hand traced over the marks she had already painted against you. You were so focused on her lips, that you didn't notice her hand trail down to your core, until she teased against your slit, running her fingers through your folds and making your back arch as a gasp left your lips.

You threw your head back as her fingers began circling your clit, but it didn't last long as her other hand moved your gaze back to the mirror, making you watch her fingers get coated in your slick, how they toyed with the sensitive bud with just enough pressure to make you beg for more, how they circled your entrance soon after, making you clench around nothing.

"Ple- Please- mmn gods please.." Your voice was desperate, full of lust and the undying need to feel her inside of you. It wasn't something that didn't go unnoticed, two of her fingers thrusting into you soon after and making your hips buck into her touch.

"Watch the mirror, sweet girl.. You think you can do that for Mommy?" Her voice took over your senses and felt as though it was consuming you whole. It rang out like a low, velvety rumble with promises of more as each one of her hot breaths trailed against your skin.

Fuck..

"Yes- mm~ yes.." Your half-lidded eyes turned back to the reflection, your breasts rising and falling with each of your heavy breaths as more and more pleasure ran through your body. You watched as she thrusted in and out of you, her fingers curling in just the right spot to have moans flooding out from your mouth and into the dark evening.

"Such a good girl for me.. Taking Mommy's fingers so well.. Oh, look at you.." You could tell with how dark her eyes got, how husky her voice was that this was doing something to her as well. Your body at her mercy as she brought moan after moan to escape your lips. "Good girl.."

Each of her thrusts grew rougher, quicker in pace, and your thighs began to tremble with your impending orgasm. You did your best to watch the way her fingers fucked into you, disappearing with pleasure and watching them come all the way out again, only for the motion to repeat over and over.

Her fingers curled with precision, her other hand toying with your nipples and sending your body rushing towards a peak. You clenched around her fingers hard with each thrust, loving how they felt inside of you. It was all consuming, building up the coil in your abdomen until your peak crashed into you, wrecking through your body as her ministrations didn't stop.

Your body shook with pleasure, taking every new thrust she gave you as you turned into putty in her arms.. but you couldn't help but want.. crave.. need more.. And it seemed as though she had the same thoughts.

The sight of you coming undone in front of her was too much to bare, her own heat building itself up in her body and causing her desire for you to push itself forward. She shifted you onto the mattress, watching as she discarded her clothes after licking her fingers clean. The sight made a moan escape your lips, your own cum disappearing from the actions of her tongue and her pale skin becoming completely exposed to you made your mouth water.

She settled herself between your legs and you couldn't help but pull her down, crashing your lips into hers for an all consuming kiss, tasting yourself on her tongue. Your tongues danced together as you both nearly begged to be impossibly closer.

You pulled away, your lips centimeters away from hers. Your voice was a whisper, but translated so much urgency, so much desire that you knew she would fold when the words left your lips. "Please, Mommy.. I need you.."

Any resolve that Larissa had left faded as you watched her eyes grow impossibly darker, swirling with a hunger that was near insatiable. A growl left her throat before her lips were on yours again, though the kiss didn't last long, a gasp leaving your lips as you felt her hard member press against your core.

You immediately rolled your hips against her, earning a broken moan from the tall blonde. She moved to position herself, then slowly pushed into your entrance. Loud, unadulterated groans left you both as she pushed herself deeper and deeper into you, the stretch quickly becoming a delicious addiction.

As she started to move, it was as though all that existed was her. Each breath you took filled your lungs with her perfume, quickly making you intoxicated and full of her. Each thrust rocked your body with a deep hunger, the sound of your skin slapping together and your moans filling the room only seemed to serve you pleasure in tenfold.

"Please, please, please- I-I need-" A moan tearing through your throat had cut off your next words, her pace growing faster with each beg you were able to shoot out. Each thrust took you to new heights as she pulled nearly all the way out of you before pushing back in all the way.

"You feel so good.. Look at you taking me so well.." Her breathing was labored, her words paired with moans as her own pleasure was building itself up. Your peaks were close, her nails digging into your hips to leave crescent marks there, both of your moans growing louder.

Your mind grew hazy with the feeling of her so deep inside you, the pleasure building the coil up again as a chase towards euphoria. With a few more thrusts, you came hard, your body shuddering as you clenched around her. Her actions only continued as she chased her own high, soon letting out a deep, loud moan and filling you up, just moments later.

Your heavy breaths filled the room, your skin coated in a layer of sweat as you both focused on coming down from your highs.

She shuffled and moved to lay next to you, pulling you into her arms and tracing invisible patterns along your back. After your breathing settled, you slowly opened your eyes to meet deep sapphire ones, a smile coming to both of your lips as only love was reflected back at you.

You shuffled closer, burying your head in the crook of her neck to place soft kisses against her neck and jawline before resting completely against your lover. Your hands found their home against her skin, and the darkness of night mixed with the comfort of your lover made sleep an easy world for the both of you to slip into.

~~

✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧

𝐚/𝐧: IMMMMM BACCCCCKK!!!!

YO IM ACTUALLY SO SORRY I WAS GONE FOR SO LONG- the traveling got to me, and then finals season started, and then more traveling and a lot of other life things happened !!

BUT IM BACK AAHAHHAHHHH

this genuinely felt so good to write because i haven't even touched my writing in so long other that organizing everything in my notes to look better lmao

i know you all understand, and i couldnt be more grateful for that fact

here you go anon :,,,,))) im sosososo sorry for how long this took like holy fuck- i hope you enjoyed it

xx,

~ 𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐰

✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: (tagged anyone who asked/wanted to be on the "all works" taglist)

as always, feel free to ask to be added &lt;3

@autumn-leaves-chasing-breeze @weemssapphic @readingtheentrails @finnja555 @barbarasstar @vendocrap8008 @gwendolinechristieiscute @lilfartbox1 @agathaandgwenslesbian @lvinhs @kimiinou @ladybathoryy

✧･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧ :══════⊹⊹══════: ✧･ﾟ｡˚☾.･✧

[cappulcino]

Finished a seven-part fanfic after two months of hard work. I don't even know if it satisfies the person who requested it and my two brain cells are like,

[queerfanfiction]

Love Notes (Ch. 7)

Larissa Weems x musicteacher!Reader Finally an update!

AO3 link

“Is it actually you?” Larissa’s voice sounds hoarse, her breath hitching slightly. You’re not sure if it’s due to her tears by the fountain earlier or if she is disappointed in the reveal. Her hands tremble at her sides, fingers curling as if to grasp onto something solid. Her blue eyes glisten with unspoken emotions, flickering between disbelief and cautious hope. There’s a vulnerability in her posture—a slight slouch of her shoulders, as though the weight of the moment has softened her usual poise.

Braving the unknown and attempting to control your own voice, you reply, “Of course.” You pause a moment, letting the warm, nutty aroma of the Weathervane wrap around you. “I’m a little surprised you never asked me directly. There were so many times I thought you had found me out.”

Silence.

The other woman seems puzzled. It’s the closest emotion you can track from her features—slightly furrowed brows, eyes distant and focused downward, staring into space. After a long moment waiting for a response from Larissa, or even a change in her facial expression, doubt gnaws from within your chest. Nervous explanations threaten to escape your lips, each word clawing at the back of your throat, desperate to fill the heavy silence. Your fingers begin nervously tracing the rim of your mug while your mind races, replaying every interaction that could have betrayed your secret, every glance Larissa might have misread. You think back to that day in Nevermore’s library when Larissa’s gaze lingered a moment too long on the notebook you hastily shut, its pages filled with annotations about her favorite songs. Or the time in the corridor when her lips curved into a puzzled smile as she caught you humming a tune she had once mentioned in passing. Every glance, every hesitation—it all feels like a series of missed revelations.

The weight of her unspoken thoughts press down on you, and you fight the urge to blurt out all your anxieties. You feel your cheeks warm and word vomit bubbling up to shield your own potential hurt. You take a shaky breath, trying to calm the whirlwind of emotions threatening to spill over.

“I know you’re probably shocked… I’m sorry if this is uncomfortable for you or if you’re disappointed. I promise I haven’t been preying on our closeness or friendship. I admire you so much, and I didn’t want to push you away and lose our friendship by saying anything. I understand if you feel betrayed. I guess I took the coward’s way out not confessing sooner.”

As you speak, Larissa’s confused look turns into a frown. She brings her eyes up to yours, and you try not to become shy under her gaze. Thankfully, determination wins out over worry, and you hold firm when meeting Larissa’s eyes.

“When you were poisoned, I vowed to take a chance—to finally let myself get close to you.” You let in more emotion than intended while confessing the next part. “You were almost gone, Larissa. After the nightshade incident, I saw how much it affected you. How much you carry, day in and day out, to keep Nevermore running. I just… wanted to let you know someone noticed. That someone cared."

Catching you off guard, Larissa finally utters, “What about the florist?” She needs to methodically respond or bring up each point to clear her head of the mess inside.

“What do you mean what about the florist? James?”

Now it was Larissa’s turn to question herself. “I thought you two were an item.” Larissa attempts to keep her voice from sounding accusatory or too affected.

A shocked kind of relief comes over you as you process Larissa’s worry and justification. In response, you tease, “He was helping me plan the surprise for you. Or did you think I could magically summon flowers as one of my powers?”

A blush touched Larissa’s cheeks. She wasn’t used to being wrong, and certainly not in a way where others might poke fun at the circumstance. “No… I…” Larissa hesitated, her hands twisting nervously at the fabric of her gloves. Her usual poise was nowhere to be found. “I suppose I let my imagination… run away with me.”

You tilt your head, a small smile playing on your lips despite the tension. “Larissa Weems? Jealous? I didn’t think you had it in you.” A smile threatens at your lips.

The blush on Larissa’s face deepens, andshe straightens her posture, attempting to regain some semblance of composure. “I am not jealous. I simply… misinterpreted the situation.”

“If you say so,” you tease gently, though your heart is pounding.

Larissa’s eyes meet yours again, and the vulnerability in them makes your teasing fade immediately. She’s still uncertain—hesitant in a way you’ve never seen before. Her voice is quieter this time as she asks, “Why me?”

Your features soften, and you reach forward over the table to take her fidgeting hand in yours. “Why not you? You’re brilliant, headstrong, compassionate, and… gods, Larissa, you’re captivating. I couldn’t keep this to myself any longer. You deserve to know how extraordinary you are.” You continue to explain, “Even though I had been wanting to, Enid is actually the one who tipped the scales in favor of me confessing. She’s quite perceptive when she wants to be. Must be the gossip blog eye.”

Larissa’s lips part slightly, but no words come out. The emotions in her eyes are too numerous to name—hope, doubt, fear, and something that looks a little like longing. She’s searching your face for something, though you’re not entirely sure what.

Before you can gain clarity on her thoughts, she asks, “How did you do it?” Larissa gestures to the wall where you appeared in the Weathervane.

You knew Larissa hadn’t known about your ability to phase. You didn’t technically disclose that in your interview process for the music professor job. “Ah, well, it’s never come up in our discussions about music. It’s matter manipulation. It’s actually why I am able to create music so easily. I’m technically manipulating the sound waves in the air.”

You pause briefly, gauging her reaction before continuing. “It’s more than sound, though. I can phase through solid objects by breaking down my molecular structure and slipping between the spaces in matter. It’s… not as simple as it sounds, unfortunately. It requires immense focus and control, and if I’m not careful, I could destabilize the matter around me.”

Larissa’s brows furrow in fascination, her earlier confusion replaced by awe. She glances between your hands and your face, a flicker of wonder breaking through her usual composure. The weight of the revelation settles in her expression, a mix of admiration and disbelief. “You’ve been living with this… and using it so effortlessly,” she finally murmurs, her voice soft, almost reverent. “That’s incredible. You’ve been using this ability all along to create those… those beautiful compositions?”

You nod, smiling warmly at Larissa’s words. “Yes. Each note, each harmony, is carefully crafted by manipulating the vibrations in the air. It’s like painting with sound.”

A soft chuckle escapes her lips. “No wonder your music feels so alive. It’s a part of you.”

The sincerity in her voice sends more warmth through you, and you lower your gaze, feeling a little shy under her praise. “It’s not always easy,” you admit, unsure of how to proceed. “Sometimes, it’s overwhelming—hearing and feeling everything at once. But when I focus, it’s like… everything falls into place. Especially when I was creating the playlists for you. I wanted them to be perfect.”

Larissa’s other hand reaches out, her fingers squeezing yours. “They are perfect. And so are you.”

Her words hang in the air, and for a moment, the world seems to pause. The sounds of espresso shots being pulled and customers chattering fades into the background, leaving only the two of you in this suspended moment of understanding and connection.

You sense Larissa’s curiosity growing as you two sit together for a few moments, her focus sharpening as she begins to grasp the depth of your abilities. “How far can it go?” she asks, tilting her head slightly. “Your powers, I mean. What else can you do?”

You take a moment to consider your answer, glancing at your hands as if they hold the key to what you want to say. “It’s… complicated. The more I practice, the more I understand. I can amplify soundwaves to create music that resonates on an emotional level. But I’ve also used it to calm people in panicked states—to harmonize the vibrations around them and bring peace to their bodies. It’s like tuning an instrument, but on a much larger scale for people’s limbic and nervous systems.”

Larissa’s eyes widen. “You can… calm people? Affect their emotions?”

You nod slowly. “Not in a controlling way, but more like… aligning their energy. Kind of like how humming and singing can stimulate one’s vagus nerve. It’s subtle, and I’d never use it without consent. But yes, I can help others find balance.”

Her expression shifts, a mix of admiration and intrigue. “And the phasing? Could you… could you go anywhere?”

“Not quite anywhere,” you say with a small laugh. “There are limits. It’s exhausting, and certain materials make it harder—denser metals, for example. But I’m learning. It’s as much about knowing my limits as it is about pushing them.”

Larissa’s hand tightens slightly around yours, grounding you in the moment. “You’re extraordinary,” she says, her voice soft but firm. “I hope you know that.”

Your cheeks flush, but you don’t look away. “Coming from you, that means everything.” For the first time, you feel completely seen—not just for your powers or your music, but for everything you are. And in Larissa’s eyes, you see that same vulnerability mirrored back at you.

After a moment, Larissa exhales shakily. “This is… a lot to take in.”

You nod, not sure whether or not to remove your hand from hers. “I understand. I’m not expecting an answer or anything right now. I just… I needed you to know.”

Larissa’s leg underneath the table brushes against yours. The touch is featherlight, but it sends a jolt through you. “Thank you,” she says softly, her voice almost trembling. “For everything.”

You rub her hands gently with your thumbs and offer her a small smile. “Always.”

Looking into your eyes thoughtfully before returning to the drinks in front of you two, Larissa suggests, “Shall I get us seconds, and you can tell me all about it?”

For the first time since the conversation began, you feel hope bloom in your chest. Whatever happens next, you’ve taken the first step. And that, you think, is enough for now.

You nod, but before Larissa can move, the door to the café opens abruptly, letting in a gust of cold air. A familiar face enters—a student from Nevermore, wide-eyed and clearly distressed.

“Headmistress Weems,” the student says, their voice shaky. “We need you. Something… something strange is happening back at school.”

Larissa’s expression sharpens immediately, the warmth between you momentarily replaced by her authoritative demeanor. She glances at you, an unspoken question in her eyes.

“Let’s go,” you say, already standing. Whatever was happening at Nevermore, you had no doubt you’d face it together.

—

The drive back to the school is tense, filled with the low hum of Larissa’s thoughts as she grips the steering wheel tightly. The student sits in the back, shifting nervously. You glance at Larissa, and she’s already deep in her role as Headmistress, her jaw set and eyes focused on the road.

As you arrive at the gates, you notice an eerie glow coming from the east wing of the campus. Students are gathered outside in small clusters, whispering nervously. The air is charged, static almost crackling as you step out of the car.

“What’s going on?” Larissa asks a nearby teacher, her voice calm but commanding.

The teacher, a young man with wide eyes that you’ve seen around the corridors, stammers, “I-it’s the greenhouse. Something’s happening inside. It’s… alive.”

“Alive?” you echo, stepping closer.

The teacher nods, visibly shaken. “The plants are… growing out of control. They’ve broken through the walls and windows. I don’t know how to stop it. All I could think to do was evacuate.”

Larissa turns to you, her expression grim and serious. “We need to contain this. Can your powers help?”

You nod, adrenaline already surging. “I’ll try.”

After ensuring other faculty secures the other entrances to the area, you and Larissa head toward the greenhouse. The closer you get, the more chaotic the scene becomes. The vines thrash wildly, scraping against the greenhouse walls with a screeching sound that sets your teeth on edge. Shards of glass crunch beneath your feet, mingled with the earthy scent of disturbed soil and an unnatural, sickly-sweet aroma. You two have to take pains to not trip over bits of broken stone across the ground. The air hums with tension, punctuated by sharp cracks as the plants force their way through wooden beams. A low, guttural groan emanates from deep within, as if the greenhouse itself is alive and in pain, urging you to hurry. Vines continue to twist and writhe, stretching toward the sky as if searching for something.

“Stay behind me,” Larissa instructs, but you shake your head.

You swallow a scoff. “We’re doing this together.”

As you step inside, the air grows thick with the scent of earth and something sweet, almost cloying. The plants seem to sense your presence, their movements becoming more erratic. You close your eyes, focusing on the vibrations around you, tuning into the chaotic energy of the greenhouse.

“I’ll work on de-escalating,” you say loudly over the noise, your voice steady despite the tension. “But I’ll need your help if they fight back.”

Larissa nods, her confidence unwavering and her eyes narrowing. “Let’s do this.”

You extend your hands like a conductor, feeling the vibrations of the plants, their restless energy like a discordant symphony. Slowly, carefully, you begin to harmonize with them, sending waves of care and concern through the space. The vines hesitate, their movements slowing as if listening.

But then, a new surge of energy ripples through the greenhouse… stronger and darker than before. Something else is here, something angry.

“There’s a source,” you say urgently, your voice strained. The pulsing energy of the greenhouse thrums in your chest, a heavy, discordant beat that resonates uncomfortably. You can feel it lashing at the edges of your senses… a strange, dark rhythm that grows stronger as you focus on it. It’s as if the source itself is alive, and with each beat, it radiates anger and desperation, sending waves of hostility through the writhing plants around you. Your eyes are closed in fierce concentration, searching for the cause. “Something is controlling them.” You grimace before continuing, “It’s overwhelming,” you add while opening your eyes and glancing at Larissa, “but I can pinpoint it.”

Larissa’s eyes scan the room, and she points to a dark mass in the center of the chaos, pulsating with unnatural light. “There.”

You look to Larissa and then to the area of her gaze; you inhale a deep breath and nod—steeling yourself. Together, you and Larissa move toward the source, determined to face whatever lies ahead.

The source in the center pulses erratically, its light shifting between crimson and black while the rest of the greenhouse seems to grow darker. The ground beneath your feet trembles as the plants around it writhe with renewed aggression, as though they sense your intent. Twisted, gnarled vines guard the pulsating mass of energy, reaching out at you two with sharp thorns. The closer you get, the heavier the air becomes, thick with the tang of iron and an oppressive, unearthly heat. Larissa grips your arm briefly, her expression steely but edged with concern.

“We’re definitely close,” you murmur, the vibrations from the source nearly overwhelming your senses. You focus harder, threading calming energy into the space, though the resistance is dangerously palpable. The mass—a gnarled root-like structure entwined with glowing tendrils—reacts violently, emitting a sharp, dissonant sound that sends a jolt of pain through your temples.

“It’s protecting itself,” Larissa says urgently, stepping forward. With a swift, deliberate motion, she pulls a small silver knife from the folds of her coat, its blade etched with ancient runes. “Do you trust me?”

You peer into the piercing eyes of this woman who has slowly transfixed herself into your life, spilling into and filling all the little gaps within it. Some that you didn’t even know you wanted filled. Breathlessly, you respond, “Yes.”

Satisfied and seemingly making a mental note of something due to the expression on her face, Larissa continues, “Can you disrupt it while I try to sever the connection?”

You nod, bracing yourself as you extend your arms again. The air around the mass is chaotic, a storm of discordant vibrations that resist your attempts to harmonize them. Sweat beads on your forehead as you push harder, weaving threads of order into the cacophony. After grueling minutes that seem like hours, the vines closest to the mass begin to falter, their thrashing movements growing sluggish.

Larissa moves with precision, her knife slicing through the tendrils feeding into the core of the mass. Her jaw tightens with determination, and a flicker of something fierce glints in her eyes. Each cut seems deliberate, as though she’s channeling every ounce of her strength and focus into severing the connection. You can almost sense her resolve, a quiet intensity radiating from her. This isn’t just about the greenhouse—it’s about protecting the students, the school, and perhaps even you. She doesn’t falter, even as the mass retaliates with bursts of angry energy. Each cut elicits a shriek from the greenhouse, the sound echoing like a wounded animal. The ground shudders violently, and for a moment, you lose your balance, falling to one knee. The source’s crimson light flares, blinding and searing hot, and you feel its fury lash out at you.

“Hold on!” Larissa calls out, her voice steady despite the chaos. Her final strike severs the last connection, and the mass collapses inward with a deafening roar, its light extinguished. The vines that had crawled around you during the encounter go limp, their aggressive energy dissipating into silence.

You collapse back, breathless and trembling, as the oppressive weight in the air begins to lift. The tension that had wrapped around your chest like a vise slowly eases, leaving you lightheaded but strangely calm. Your fingers dig briefly into the cool soil beneath you, grounding yourself against the lingering tremors in your body. Each inhale feels sharper, cleaner, as though the air has been renewed. Relief washes over you in waves, mingled with an almost surreal disbelief that it’s over as quickly as it began. Larissa kneels beside you, her face a mixture of relief and exhaustion.

“Are you alright?” she asks, her hand coming to lightly rest on the side of your face, brushing tenderly against your jaw.

You nod weakly, managing a small smile. “We did it.”

The two of you sit in the aftermath, the greenhouse eerily still. Outside, the muffled sounds of students and faculty stir as the danger subsides. You exchange a glance with Larissa, and for a moment, the world feels suspended once more—this time, in quiet triumph.

As the silence settles in the greenhouse, your gaze drifts back to the crumpled remains of the pulsating mass. The memory of its crimson and black glow lingers in your mind, vivid and haunting. What was it? You reach out instinctively with your senses, searching for any lingering traces of its energy, but there’s nothing—just an empty void where its chaotic presence once thrived.

“Do you think it’s truly gone?” you ask Larissa, your voice barely above a whisper.

She follows your line of sight, her lips pressed into a thin line. “I don’t know,” she admits, her voice heavy with thought. “But whatever it was, it felt… deliberate. As though it had a purpose.”

A shiver runs down your spine as you recall the way the mass seemed to lash out, not just in anger, but in defiance. The way the violent energy seemed to resist every attempt to subdue it. “It wasn’t just growing wildly,” you murmur, almost to yourself. “It was looking for something.”

Larissa looks at you sharply, her brows knitting together. “Looking for what, exactly?”

You shake your head, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. “I don’t know, but it didn’t feel random. That energy, it was… searching. Reaching.” You hesitate, the words catching in your throat. “Almost like it was trying to connect.”

Larissa’s gaze hardens, her eyes narrowing in thought. For another long moment, neither of you speaks, the weight of the ruined greenhouse surrounding you, punctuated only by the occasional creak of broken glass and rubble settling. Finally, Larissa rises, brushing dirt from her coat with a slow, deliberate motion.

“If it was searching,” she says quietly, “we need to find out what it wanted—and why it was here.” Her expression is unreadable.

You nod again in agreement, though unease still coils tightly in your chest. Whatever answers the mass held, you know they won’t come easily. “Do you think it’s connected to the school? Or something outside of it?” you ask, voice tinged with uncertainty.

Larissa tilts her head slightly, considering. “Whatever it was, it wasn’t natural. And the fact that it was here, on Nevermore grounds…” She trails off, her jaw tightening. “We can’t ignore it.”

The weight of her words settles heavily over you. The questions that the mass of tendrils leaves behind feel as tangled and complex as the vines it controlled. One thing is certain: the danger isn’t over.

—

Tagging: @lilsmeaux, @suckerforcate, @rickistheman, @tundra1029, @aster-loves-gwen, @justcallmelittleone, @poorwritingandstalecoffee, @lvinhs, @one-pining-queer, @kimiinou, @bobia13, @gwendolinechristieiscute, @kay-liah-scope, @readingtheentrails, @a-queen-and-her-throne, @weemssapphic, @ctrlamira, @im-a-carnivorous-plant, @winterfireblond, @gwendolinechristiesnumberonegirl, @enchantressb, @machi-avelli, @alder-saan.

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