#— arlo's-order | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cordeliawhohung · 3 months

Text

When Your Blood Meets Mine - Part 1

Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!Reader - part twelve of "soft spot"

something terrifying is writhing underneath your skin

warnings: a lot of exposition, some hurt/comfort, a lot of dread

wc: 4.1k

Interrogation training was Simon’s least favorite thing he was forced to do as an officer.

Of course someone with his experience wasn’t made to go through the training itself, but he wasn’t ordered to administer it either. No, Simon Riley hated it because he had to sit in the corner of the room like an asshole and write a report on every single Trooper that walked through those doors, and there were plenty. There were soldiers who tapped out after a few minutes, others who attempted to stiffen their upper lips but ultimately failed, and some that were too cocky for their own good given their situation. He decided that getting a hook torn through his ribs was less painful than evaluating all those men, but that was neither here nor there.

The biggest headache of them all was the new baby faced prick who sat in that interrogation chair with his legs much too far apart. Well, Simon wasn’t sure about either of those descriptions, but he sure fucking acted like it. A pompous attitude, a sly smirk and a condescending tone was all it took for him to dislike the kid, but he tried to maintain his professionalism and not let his personal feelings get in the way of his report. Still, he had worked with men like that before and it was annoying enough, but even more so when they hadn’t done anything to earn it. Kids that age had hardly experienced enough life to think they’re above it all.

But for Arlo Sallow, that mock interrogation was the easiest thing he had done all day. People yelling at him never bothered him much, and he knew that no matter how many times his “interrogator” threatened him, there would be no physical backlash. All he had to do was sit back, relax, and enjoy the performance. Or, at least as much as he could with that masked up freak sitting in the corner. That giant of a man nearly blended into the darkness of the office with his all black attire, but his eyes glowed in the darkness like an animal all the same.

Arlo had heard about this man. They said some giant officer stalked the halls every now and then but mostly kept to his office. Very little was actually known about the man other than he scared the shit out of pretty much everyone. Everyone except for him, of course, because there was no way he was going to let himself be intimidated by a man who wasn’t even brave enough to show his own face.

When he was finally excused from that room after nearly twenty minutes of fooling around, it was like a breath of fresh air for Arlo. If anything, all of that had been a waste of his time disguised as a training exercise. It would be impossible to truly prepare for an actual interrogation without the fear of pain or loss of life. Perhaps his superiors had gotten bored. Either way, that bare hallway was a sight for sore eyes, and he listened to the sound of his boots hitting the tile floor as he put as much distance between him and that room as possible.

“Arlo!”

The man had hardly walked twenty paces before a voice called out to him. Aaron Loughty, another Trooper in his unit and someone he had grown to be rather good friends with, quickly walked to catch up to the man with a small stack of papers in his hand. He was pretty short for the average guy, something that Arlo noticed pretty much every time he walked next to him, yet like always he ignored it as they fell in step together.

“How’d it go?” the man asked.

Indifferent, Arlo shrugged as he lazily shoved his hands in his pockets. “Boring, really.”

“Seriously?” Aaron questioned. “I’m scheduled to go in tomorrow, is it really not that bad? I’ve honestly been stressing about it all day.”

Despite his nervous nature, Aaron seemed to be a man on a mission. Their boots hit against the freshly waxed floor, and Arlo seemed to have no choice but to follow his comrade as they twisted and turned down countless hallways throughout the base. Judging by the direction and the papers in his hands, he assumed they were heading to the secretary’s office.

“Trust me, you’ve got nothing to worry about,” Arlo assured. “They can’t really hurt you, no matter how much they threaten it. All they’ll do is yell at you a bit, maybe slap the table a few times, and tell you to get the fuck out.” The man paused for a moment in order to carefully slip his hands out of his pockets before any prying eyes reported him to his CO. “Really, the only unsettling thing about it is the masked prick they’ve got writing down notes in the corner of the room.”

Aaron’s eyes widened at that remark, and the color visibly drained from his pale, freckled face. “They’ve got Ghost sitting in on this?”

“Ghost?” Arlo repeated with a chuckle. “Is that really his name? The guy’s more cheesy than I thought.”

Anxious, his friend glanced over his shoulder as if worried the apparition himself would be trailing behind them, and though he wasn’t greeted with any figures masked or otherwise, his tense nature didn’t seem to melt.

“Don’t let anyone hear you say that about the lieutenant,” he warned.

“Stop worrying, I doubt he’s hardly as scary as people make him out to be.”

With one final turn, the two men found themselves in a large office littered with several wooden desks. It was surprisingly quiet in there save for a worker or two clicking away at their computers, and they both fell silent as to not disturb the peace. Aaron meticulously weaved between the desks as he looked at the name placards one by one. It wasn’t until they reached the far corner of the office near an open window that he finally found who he looked for.

“Mrs. Riley?”

Your ears perked at the sound of your name and your eyes tore away from your monitor in search of who called for you. Despite the fact you and Simon had been married for nearly two years by that point, it was strange being called your lover's name. But like he had made it clear in his private vows to you, all of him was to be shared with you; mind, body, and soul. Name included.

“What can I do for you?” you asked as your attention settled on the two men in front of you.

You had never seen either man before, but judging by how young they looked, that was no fault of your own. Neither man appeared to be over the age of twenty four, so they were more than likely new on base. Not that it really concerned you all that much. Your job was to file paperwork and play Minesweeper whenever you got bored, not keep an eye on new transfers.

“Sergeant MacTavish requested that I drop these off to you, ma’am,” the one with the last name Loughty plastered on his chest replied. He held out a small stack of five or six papers for you to take with a polite tone. “He said you’d know what to do with them.”

With a smile, you relieved the man of the papers where you quickly skimmed over the contents. It was simple work, something to be electronically scanned into a database and then shredded after the transfer, though it would interrupt your game of Minesweeper.

“Looks like MacTavish is making you do his dirty work,” you teased.

“Not at all,” Loughty defended. “He was on his way to do it himself before Captain Price called him into his office. Passed the torch on to me, so to speak.”

You hummed in understanding before you tossed the papers into your work basket to sort out later. This Loughty kid was adorable in a little brother type of way. His eyebrows were pale and placed slightly too high up on his forehead, giving him the permanent expression of surprise, but his freckles and short cut hair were endearing. He was also more kind and well spoken than a lot of the Troopers you were used to dealing with. Simon always said it took awhile to house train them.

The man that accompanied him gave off a different aura entirely. His dark features and bored expression almost reminded you of Adakskin, like you stared at a version of him that knew how to smile for the sake of it and not just when pain was caused. His eyes weren’t as dark, though, and were more of a honey brown than whatever dark abyss resided in the rotted away sockets of your dead captor. As if he noticed the way you inspected him, the man puffed out his chest where he proudly displayed the last name of Sallow on his chest.

“And you?” you asked. “How did you get roped into this mess?”

“Found him wandering the halls after I was finished with interrogation training,” he answered simply.

“Oh? And how did that go?”

“Boring, really.”

Somehow, you knew that word would be his response before you even asked that question. Boring. That man really was a carbon copy of Adakskin, or a pale imitation of him at least. His ego was all too big and it inflated his head to humorous proportions, but things that seemed cute and funny oftentimes grew sour. His presence already tasted rotten on your tongue.

“I suppose it is a little lackluster without the blood, vomit, and drugs,” you sarcastically agreed while your eyes flickered to the clock on your monitor. Five couldn’t roll around quick enough.

While Loughty looked somewhat appalled at your comment, Sallow seemed to take it as a challenge. It was as if you had ignited some sort of morbid curiosity in him, and you felt your stomach drop at the sight of his glimmering eyes. Had you known that saying those words would have awoken some disgusting beast within him, you probably wouldn’t have spoken in the first place. Then again, you were never very good at staying quiet.

Or playing games.

“Oh, I’m sure there’s more to it than that,” Sallow continued. Getting all too comfortable, he leaned forward until his hands were on the edge of your desk as if he attempted to crowd you. He smiled at you like he enjoyed it. “Everyone always focuses so much on the pain of interrogations and torture that they forget about the mental part of it. It’s why you can’t just have your average civi waltzing onto the battlefield. Getting hurt is scary… for the average person, perhaps. So what about those who don’t fear pain? Making them shatter mentally, forcing them to be afraid of something, is truly impressive.”

Looked like Adakskin. Spoke like Bukin. Who the hell let this guy pass selection?

“Truly,” you mumbled as you sat back in your chair, unamused. “Though, I find they have less of a hold over you if you manage to show them that you like the violence just as much as they do.”

The boys didn’t even have time to respond to your ominous comment before a brooding figure approached behind them. You didn’t even have to look past the boys to know it was Simon; you always knew when he was around. As did the two Troopers in front of you, apparently, because they were quick to turn around and face the man as soon as they noticed the sound of his boots hitting against the wood floor. Sallow slid his hands off of the desk and stepped to the side as if he had never crowded you in the first place, and whatever intrigued expression that had been on his face previously had vanished. Ignoring them, Simon walked between the two, effectively separating them as he held out a small stack of papers for you to take.

“Mrs. Riley,” he greeted, his usual cheeky tone absent.

“Lieutenant,” you responded as you lazily flipped through the documents. “No shortage of work to be done around here today, it seems.”

“Never is,” he quipped.

A strange silence hung heavy in the air as Simon made no move to leave and neither did your unwelcome guests. Your eyes lingered on the documents in your hands for only a moment before you looked back up to Sallow and Loughty. Loughty looked at Simon as if he stared at a living legend, and rightfully so. Sallow, on the other hand, looked at your husband with annoyance, and that quiet pit of rage that always seemed to fester in your stomach flared up to a dull roar.

“Is there anything else I can do for you boys?” you questioned, your tone less than friendly.

“No,” Loughty answered before his friend could continue to make a fool of himself. “No, ma’am. Thank you.”

Without another word, both Troopers left the office area and your eyes tailed them for every step they took until they vanished. Following your glare, Simon looked over his shoulder before looking back to you with quizzical eyes.

“The hell was that about?” he asked, keeping his voice low so as to not draw attention from the other workers around you.

“Oh, you mean Adakskin and Bukin’s love child and his pipsqueak friend?” you asked with a huff. “Johnny sent them to give me some more papers to sort through and they felt like sticking around for an unpleasant chat.”

“Sallow?” Simon clarified, to which you nodded. “He’s quite the character. Didn’t like the way he leaned on your desk, though.”

“Me neither.”

In an attempt to calm yourself, you took a deep breath and leaned back in your chair. Once again your eyes were drawn to the clock in the bottom right corner of your monitor, and you were pleased to find that you didn’t have much longer until you were able to go home. A nice hot shower felt like a wonderful idea after the human garbage you had to deal with.

“But, we’ll be home soon. You can worry about whipping Sallow into shape tomorrow,” you teased.

“If I’m lucky I won’t have to deal with the cunt at all,” Simon muttered. “But I’ll be late comin’ home tonight. Got a backlog of paperwork to finish since I spent most of my time playing overseer today.”

“Shame,” you quipped, though not at all remorseful. “Well, if you’re gonna be late, you should pick up food on your way home. Feeling a little sore and don’t really wanna cook tonight.”

A devious sort of glint blossomed in Simon’s eyes, and not even the fabric of his mask could hide the cheeky smirk that tugged at his lips. It crinkled the corners of his eyes, and you mentally prepared yourself for whatever snarky comment that was about to leave his lips.

“Was I a little too rough with you last night?” he asked, voice low and rough.

Your eyes widened at his words, and you leaned over your desk to mutter his name between gritted teeth. A quick glance around the room revealed that all the other office workers were too absorbed in their own work to either hear or care what he said which offered you only little reprieve. That man was much too cheeky for his own good.

“I’ll see you tonight, sweetheart,” he whispered.

There was something silly and invigorating about being married to a ghost. About pretending to hardly know one another at work, whispering I love you in quiet corners and empty rooms. It was your little secret, and you couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you watched him leave the office with one last glance over his shoulder.

It didn’t take you long to finish up at the office, and you walked through the door to the apartment before you knew it. Boo greeted you with his usual ritual of a sweet coo and then an attempt on your life by walking much too close to your feet, nearly tripping you. Luckily all it took was a simple refilling of his food bowl to get him out of your space, and minutes later you were in the shower.

Things had changed considerably for you in the last few years. Sometimes you felt so detached from your old life that it was like you hadn’t started existing until a few years ago. It had been so long since your skin was last bruised, and that raised scar on the corner of your lip had faded so much that it almost vanished. A beautiful ring sat proudly on your finger, and it was very rare that you woke up in a cold sweat those days, and even when you did your husband was always there to hold you until you fell back asleep.

Even then, despite the growth and the happiness that had rooted in your life, there was a deep ache that plagued you. You felt it when you tried to raise your arm in the shower to wash your side. You felt it in the raised, puffy skin that lined the side of your breast and ribs. No amount of water could wash away the scar tissue that burrowed into your side, but that was alright. Your obsession with being clean had dwindled over the years, but the reverberation from the gunshot still seemed to echo through your body like a never ending scream. It was a constant reminder that Bukin really had taken parts of you that you would never get back. You will always be rotting in that orchard. You will always be bleeding in that basement. It had taken you some time to learn that those decaying parts of you weren’t worth holding on to, lest the rest of you become tainted.

He could have them. Your husband had the parts of you that mattered.

By the time Simon had arrived home you had been laying in bed shirtless for nearly twenty minutes as you rubbed at your aching scar. The aroma of Chinese takeout was quick to fill the apartment, and you listened to the faint sound of rustling bags and quiet muttering as Boo no doubt inspected the food for quality assurance. Tiny footsteps accompanied heavy ones as your husband entered the bedroom, and Boo was quick to hop up on the bed where he made himself comfortable on the corner of the mattress. As usual, Simon made his way to your side where he sunk into the mattress next to you.

“Doin’ alright?” he asked.

With a frown, you continued to poke at your scar. It was as if something was inside of you, just beneath your skin, ravaging your flesh and body, taking something from you that you would never get back. It hurt, and yet you couldn’t stop messing with it, like a bruise.

“Yeah, just really sore,” you said with a slight wince.

“Easy,” Simon warned as he pulled your hand away from your body.

His fingers were significantly more gentle than your own had been. Where you had prodded as if trying to rip the pain out of your body, Simon acted more as if he performed a careful assessment. Reading scars had become easy for him over the years as he had earned plenty of his own, though he never really liked reading yours. He preferred the soft swell and dip of your skin rather than the puffy crevices that reminded him that despite his skill, he hadn’t been strong enough to save you. But that was in the past, and your skin was feverish underneath his fingertips rather than bitter and cold, and that was all he needed.

“How long has it been hurting?” he asked as he rested his hand on your stomach.

“Don’t know. Two or three weeks maybe? It gets worse every day,” you sighed. “It never used to hurt after it healed. I mean, I always had issues raising my arm after everything but this is near debilitating. Can hardly use my left side at all without wincing.”

Simon hummed as he gently patted your side and stood from the bed. “I’ve got somethin’ that might help.”

Of course he did, because he always did. Always knew just how to stitch you back up and make you whole again. So you rolled onto your side as you watched him slip out of the room, heavy footsteps vanishing and then reappearing moments later as he returned with a small jar of sorts. It looked like a cosmetic jar, like something you’d find face cream in, and it was humorous in hands as big and rough as his.

Simon settled on the bed once again and wasted no time adjusting your arm to give him better access to your scar. He opened the jar and began to rub a liberal amount of the cream onto your skin where you felt a cool relief wash over your skin. Its scent was strong, and it was something you recognized smelling on your husband a time or two. There was a mix of menthol that felt icy cold against your heated skin, yet some sort of spiced scent that wasn’t unpleasant, and was almost mouthwatering. As he slathered it into your scar, you couldn’t help but sigh as you nudged your head against his leg.

“It might be fat necrosis,” Simon said after gently massaging the tender area.

“What’s that?” you questioned.

“Sometimes after a wound has healed or trauma is dealt to a more fatty area of your body you get these lumps that form. Nothin’ to worry about. Should go away on its own,” he explained.

He stopped rubbing at your scar and turned to cap the jar and place it on the nightstand next to the bed. Eyebrows drawing together, you sat up as you cupped the side of your breast, and the way your stomach dropped nearly made you want to throw up.

“Lumps?” you repeated. “You felt lumps?”

Confused, Simon gave you a cautious look as he rested a hand on your thigh. “A few, yeah. Pretty normal for a wound like that, love.”

Despite his assurance, your throat still ran dry and you found it difficult to swallow. Because had your wound been sustained anywhere else, you would have believed him. Had you been shot in the leg or the stomach or anywhere other than there, you would have believed him when he said it was normal. You learned the hard way that when women in your family felt a lump in any place other than their throats, it was rarely ever benign.

“Yeah,” you agreed awkwardly as you stood from the bed. Simon’s hand slipped off of your thigh as you made a beeline for the dresser in order to fish out a shirt. “I’ll still probably try to see a doctor for it. Could at least do something about the pain.”

As you slipped your shirt over your body Simon approached behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. Sighing, you leaned against his chest and let your head roll to the side as you attempted to ignore that persistent pain burrowing into the side of your breast and ribs.

“Keep that cream on you, yeah? Use as much of it as you need. I’ll get more.” he recommended as he kissed the top of your head. “C’mon. Food’s gettin’ cold.”

As you followed Simon out of the room, you couldn’t ignore the dread that bubbled up in your stomach and threatened to eat at your esophagus. Even with the delicious scent of food and the warmth of Simon against you as the two of you ate dinner on the couch, something was wrong. And you tried your best to ignore it as you focused on whatever programme droned on the television but nothing seemed to take your mind off of the fact that your side ached so badly it was all you could focus on.

Really, the worst part of it all was that you realized that you held your tender body the same way your mother held hers when she fell ill. It made sense. Your life had only ever been a series of twisted and vicious cycles. But you didn’t have the time or energy to worry about the possible horrors lurking underneath your flesh. Real answers would come soon enough, and instead of fearing for the worst, you found your body overwhelmed with fatigue as you fell asleep in the arms of your husband on the living room couch.

@ghostlythots @archonsabyss @crowbird @beware-my-thorns @koko-1025 @nessaasstuff @escapefromrealitysm @babygirl-riley @theloneshadow24 @ashableketchup @violet-19999 @paigetaylor628 @curlygirls-world @gaebestie @datlilwrench @ryisghost @suffering-and-happy-about-it @achelois-is-here @spookyscaryspoon @vampykween @tapioca-milktea1978 @perfectus-in-morte @comeonatmebruh @xxkay15xx @talooolaaloolla @astraluminaaa

#simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #f!reader #soft spot

108 notes · View notes

fadingdaggerr · 1 year

Text

heaven’s gate

pairing: larissa weems x gn!reader (r is only ever referred to as queer, no other specifics)

summary: locking eyes with a woman at a bar and finding purpose in her kiss

warnings (in order): alcohol consumption, making out, smut (thigh riding, fingering, eating out, heavy praise), r is a simp the whole time, so much side character use bc i like making up lil stories about the little people in my head, pretty dialogue heavy in some parts

note: sorry i’ve been gone, i’ve had severe writers block and my birthday was this past weekend so i was out and about. never written smut before so this is different from my usual comfort zone, let me know what y’all think <3 i also tried to keep r neutral as possible to accommodate all presentations and identities :)

the wind whipped against your face as you steadily continued along the sidewalk, numbing your cheeks. the honking of cars and chatter around becoming white noise as you were dead set on your destination, only need at this point to get out of the wind tunnels. an arm looked through yours suddenly, breaking your pace slightly.

“babe, you have got to slow down. these boots are not meant for walking, they’re for attracting,” parker says as he clings to you for warmth, even with his long emerald green jacket on.

you laugh a little, “i’m not freezing my ass off because you chose heeled shoes when you knew damn well we’re in the old district. that means cobblestone streets. i thought you had a college degree?” he shoves you with a laugh, there’s no point in arguing with the truth. he complains the rest of the way, and you just ignore him until he finally stops when the club comes into view.

the vibration of the music could be felt in the floors, on the chairs, at the bar. everything hummed together, music and voices. you took it all in until a rum and coke slid right next to your hand. you nod at the bartender in thanks, turning to take in the club, smiling at the group taking a photo in from of the lavender’s orbit sign with giant smiles and little pride flags in hand. your eyes continue to scan as you bring your glass to your mouth, then double back when a set of eyes connects with yours.

resting against a tall stool, martini in hand, was the most enchanting being you’d ever seen. lips curved into a smirk at your staring, but it didn’t stop you. you allow your eyes to travel down, taking in her short, white dress and her long legs, watching as blue and purple lights sway and highlight her body. your eyes snap back go to hers, returning her smirk before continuing your look around.

you find parker by the pool tables, cheering on the group playing there, not so subtle in his hands caressing one of their arms. you shake your head with a laugh, he was on a mission, just as he had said before you’d left. parker sees you and waves your over excitedly.

“okay, okay so will you play pool with me? and like, help me get them to like me?” he says pointing at the person in bleach-dyed overalls, only a red binder underneath.

“one game,” you say holding up one finger, “i’m not playing matchmaker all night, there’s someone i think i need to talk to by the bar.”

he jumps a little, hugging you, “okay perfect, one game is all i need. then i can help you get some.”

you grab a cue stick, applying chalk as you speak, “i don’t need help. and i think you’ll be a little to preoccupied to help me anyways.”

the object of parker’s affection, max, and their friend arlo, let you break the set. a singular solid ball fell in, putting you into a head start. as the game continued, you told parker what to do so that you could both win and help him with max, which didn’t seem to be an issue. the eight ball was your last in, as you aimed, you could feel eyes on you, burning into your back. turning, you see the woman from earlier watching, new drink, same look in her eyes. you nod towards her then shoot, the eight ball drops into the cup.

parker grabs you, jumping as he holds you, mostly just shaking you like a rag doll. max and arlo shake your hand. deepening their voices to sound all gruff and puffing their chests as they both say “good game, good game,” before breaking and laughing at themselves.

the three step away to get more drinks, and you turn back to where the woman in white had been, but instead she was walking back from the bar, two drinks in hand. she approaches you, setting one drink in your hand. a rum and coke.

“larissa,” she says, “that was quite the game.”

you accept the drink with a smile, introducing yourself, “the game? i don’t recall your eyes being on the cues.”

“perhaps not, but how could they look at anything else?” her words send a shiver down your spine, “let’s go sit, darling.”

you begin moving to find a place to sit down and talk with her. her hand rests on your hip as you walk to keep close to you and not get separated. her touch was electrifying, even through your shirt. you let her sit first, then place yourself next to her, close enough that your legs touch and her perfume fills your nose.

“what do you do for work, larissa?” you ask, eyes looking into hers. you couldn’t see how blue they were before, cursing the dim lighting around you for not gifting you this privilege earlier.

“i’m an english teacher at nevermore, it’s a private academy up in jericho,” she says proudly.

you nod excitedly, “i’ve heard of it! my friend jaya went there in high school since she lived closer to there than byron’s home in rochester.”

her eyes widen, voice nervous, “you know about outcasts?”

you grab her hand, “i am an outcast, i went to byron’s. maybe you know her, jaya o’leary? gorgon, perfect eyebrows despite not getting them done ever in her life?”

larissa laughs, “yes! we had a couple classes together during third year, that’s quite the coincidence.”

“all roads lead back,” you say, mostly to yourself. larissa’s lips form into a soft smile, the hand that’s still in yours tightening.

“what do you do?” she asks.

“i’m a counselor. i run support groups and one-on-ones for anyone in need, we have varying specialists and everything,” you say before you take a sip of your drink.

larissa leans closer, “what do you specialize in?” there’s genuine interest in her voice, and it makes you feel warm and fuzzy.

“queer adolescence and trauma. there’s a lot of kids that need a place to just exist as they are, and home is a confinement cell,” you say looking down into your lap, then back to larissa. she smiles at you, thumb running across yours.

“that’s an admirable profession, you should be incredibly proud of yourself,” her words are so heartfelt that you feel your chest bloom.

“thank you. and for the record, teaching is equally important. it’s a multi-faceted role, you should be proud too,” your eyes are locked with hers, trying to convey that your words are true.

just as she’s about to reply, a scream of your name catches both your attentions. parker’s freckles face popping into view as you watch him bob and weave through the crowd quickly until he stands before you with a giant smile. he almost speaks, but his eyes move to larissa then back to you with a playful smile.

“first of all, nice. second, wow. third, i am going to disappear for a little bit, are you okay here? i can stay if you need me too,” his words are hopeful, but you know his promise of staying is just as true, he’d never leave you if you said no.

“i’m okay, go have your fun and text me. for the love of god, wear a condom. and for the love of your best friend, do not give me extreme details about this later or i will vomit in your shoes,” you say as you shoo him away. he grabs your face and presses a fat kisses to your cheek with an i love you, i love you, i love you, before running off to max.

you groan and wipe your cheek, where did the gloss come from? larissa giggles next to you at the interaction, hand over her mouth. “nice and wow? he’s sweet,” she laughs.

your head hangs low, “that would be parker, the bane of my existence and my assigned ward at this point.” this makes her laugh again, and you almost think you heard angels singing.

“would that be the reason you didn’t come up to me sooner?” larissa prods.

you laugh a bit, looking at her through your lashes, “unfortunately, yes. he needed me to help him win the game so that he could look good.”

her tongue goes across her teeth, “i think it worked better for you, at least in my opinion.”

it’s your turn to lean a little closer now, “well i almost lost because someone, not going to name names, was quite distracting during the final round.”

her hand leaves yours, much to your dismay, but quickly finds its way to your thigh, “oh, i’m sorry. how could i ever make it up to you, almost-loser?” her tone and fake pout nearly kill you on the spot, her touch was making the fire within you burn hotter and hotter.

your hand rises to her neck, caressing her jaw with your thumb. she was so beautiful it was making you dizzy, but you spoke regardless, “i think you’ve already made it up to me just being right here,” you feel her cheek warm under your hand, “maybe i should be thanking you, you might have been my good luck charm instead.”

her lips are only centimeters from yours as she says, “maybe you can repay me then somehow.”

—

her lips were soft, but her kiss was not. her teeth nipped at your bottom lips as she pulled away to breathe, only to pull you back in. one hand gripped her waist, the other against the brick wall behind her to hold you up. her own held you face, keeping you as close as possible. the breathy moans she let out through the kiss made your grip on her tighten, then slide down more, just over the curve of her ass. you pull her hips into you, making another noise leave her.

her lips detach detach from yours, angling her head down, she begins to nip at your neck. you could’ve sworn she was a drug, your own personal aphrodisiac. your hand slides down more, catching her thigh and bringing it to your hip, pressing your hips into hers to give some friction. a noise escapes her at this action, something that makes you need to kiss her again, truly kiss her.

you lean away, ducking your head to catch her lips once again, kissing her with less lust and more intimacy. you savor the way she shivers as your fingers draw little patterns on her thigh as you kiss her, pouring everything into it. she pulls away, panting lightly. your lips migrate to her neck, gentle kisses and nips as you both catch your breath.

through heavy breaths larissa says, “my hotel is only six blocks away.”

your head leaves her neck, pressing a quick kiss to her lips, “my apartment is four.”

your eyes stay locked together, both of you grinning like teenagers. you whip your phone out of your back pocket, opening parker’s contact.

to: park nasty going back to my place. do NOT come back unannounced i was serious about the shoe thing. be safe ily

you shove your phone back in your pocket, hand now extended to larissa. she immediately takes it, weaving her fingers with yours and wrapping the other arm around yours, holding you to her. you’re about to speak to her again when you phone chimes.

from: park nasty ily babe go get some!! and a little more!!!! lord knows i’m about to go back for thirds

larissa reads the message from beside you, laughing at the outlandish text. you groan at it before typing your own quickly

to: park nasty damn give the poor thing a little recovery time u absolute creature. i’m not gonna feel bad for u tomorrow when u complain

you chuckle and put your phone back in your pocket. you look at larissa before you both burst out laughing. she didn’t even know parker but she basically got the full extent of him within one text and watching the two of you interact while playing pool and when he came to you both.

“i see what you mean by the assigned ward thing now,” she says through a chuckle.

you guide her to your street, “he’s a menace, but he’s the best friend anyone could ask for. the descriptive details of his sex life are the price i pay for friendship.”

she just has to ask, “park nasty?”

you cackle, “he decided on day one of us meeting at byron’s that that would be his name in my phone. he thought it would stick, like everyone would call him that or something.”

she laughs with you, “and did they?”

“no!” you laugh loudly, “who’s gonna call a fourteen year old boy that?” she giggles at the story, “but i never changed it because i thought it was so stupid that it was hilarious.”

larissa clings to you and rests her head against yours as you unlock the gate in front of the door, then enter the code to get into the building. you have her step ahead of you, guiding her to your door with a gentle hand on her lower back. she’s back against you as you unlock your door and let yourselves in. you grab her purse and place it on the bench behind the door, then take her coat hanging it on the hooks, along with your own.

just as you look back at her, her lips crash into yours. you immediately kiss her back, hands flying to her hips and holding her tight. hers found their way to hold the back of your neck, blunt nails digging into your skin. you began walking her backwards to your room, staying against the door for a minute as you savor each others touch. you fumble for the knob, backing her in once the door is closed. you’re completely overtaken by her, her lips, her touch, the way she’s holding you like you’ll disappear.

larissa’s knees hit the bed, and she pulls you to her lap as she sits down. you push her back more, laying her on the bed. you lips migrate from hers to her neck, creating more marks to go with the ones from before. working your way down, you press kisses to the expanse of her chest, pale skin just begging to be painted in your affection.

larissa’s legs shift and you suddenly find yourself under her, her dress riding up and exposing more of her thighs. her lips go back to assaulting yours, her hands sliding underneath your shirt to trace the skin of your abdomen. only breaking away to gently ask, “is this okay?”

you smile at her, leaning up to kiss her cheek, “more than okay, i promise.”

her lips are back on yours, your hands are back on the creamy skin of her thighs. she was your new drug of choice, you couldn’t stop the venturing of your hands on her body as her lips and tongue pulled soft moans from you. you need more of her, as much as she’ll allow you.

you shift your hips, raising your right leg to press you thigh to her center, making her lips stutter as she moaned against your chest. her hips instinctually buck against your thigh again, and you hear her breath hitch.

“are you okay? we can stop,” you ask gently, gently stroking the skin of her thigh to assure her.

“don’t,” she rushes out, “i want this, i want you.”

there’s nothing to do except kiss her, kiss her so that it feel like a promise. your hands slide from her thighs to her hips, slowly guiding her against you. she moans into your mouth and your hands move her hips faster, her pleasure was all you could think about.

her moans grew whinier as she desperately moved against you. her forehead pressed into yours as her release grew closer and closer.

“you’re so beautiful,” you mutter, pressing your lips to hers, sitting up so she was now on your lap. the new angle and your words forced a filthy moan from her lips, “and you sound so beautiful. god, how do i deserve this?”

larissa could only kiss you harder, stealing the breath from your lungs. her hips wild against your thigh, the feeling of your hands gripping her hips, it was all too much. your lips found their way to her chest again, you nudge fabric out of the way to kiss along her breasts, gentle love bites that were soothed by your tongue.

larissa’s hips began to falter, moans becoming louder and longer. you flex your thigh more, kissing her as you move her hips faster. her hands grip at you shoulders, eyes screwed tight with pleasure. she was so close.

“open your eyes, baby. i wanna see you, can i see your beautiful eyes?” you ask as you kiss her neck and jaw, biting the skin every now and then, “please?”

larissa’s eyes flutter open, lust-drunk eyes looking into yours. you quickly reward her by pushing her further down on your thigh, making a sweet moan come from her as she looks into your eyes.

“fuck, you’re so beautiful,” a kiss to her chest, “you’re doing so well,” a kiss to her neck, “you can let go whenever you’re ready,” a kiss to her jaw, “i can’t wait to see you fall apart just for me,” a final kiss to her lips.

your words seem to be the undoing of larissa weems. she moans loudly against your lips, hips quickening then stuttering. blue eyes find yours as a long and beautiful song escapes her, thighs shaking. you’re in awe, entirely captivated by her. you can already tell that you’re not going to be able to let her go, your mind had been screaming to keep her close since you saw her. this sight was the only thing that mattered now, pleasing larissa was your life mission.

her forehead drops to yours, eyes shut, breath heavy. you stay there for a moment, unmoving, allowing her to come down peacefully. your raise your arm slowly, gently brushing hair from her face before cupping her cheek. her cheek presses into your palm, and you just have to kiss her. it’s soft and sweet, just a reminder that she’s cared for. she pulls back, eyes opening slowly. all you can do is smile at her, and she returns it gently. your lips find her cheek, pressing a few kisses to her skin.

“where the hell have you been?” she says with a breathy laugh.

you smile harder at her words, “i’ve been right here. guess you’ll have to come to the city more often.”

“or you’ll just have to come to jericho,” she says playfully.

you kiss her softly before speaking, “i have a good reason to it seems. a very beautiful reason at that.”

she pushes you back, leaning over you to press her lips against yours. the dance is slow, meaningful. her tongue grazes your lips for entry, and she’s given it without second thoughts. she kisses with full passion, telling you everything with every movement. she sucks on your bottom lip, making you groan and pull her face closer. all you want, need is her. you whine as she pulls back, and she gives you a quick kiss to appease you.

her fingers begin to lift your shirt up slowly, eyes searching for permission. you grab one of her hands, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. you grab her other hand and guide them both under your shirt, letting her know you’re okay. she strips you of your shirt, and kissing down your chest and belly. her hands find your belt buckle, undoing it quickly while you lift your hips help her remove it. she climbs back up, kissing a trail from waist to your lips. your hands fall to her back, finding the zipper of her dress as she lazily kissed you.

she sits up and her dress falls down, revealing a lack of bra, leaving her in ruined panties. you sit up and your lips immediately find her chest, wrapping around one nipple as your hands traced her body. your tongue swirls around her, leaving her skin with with a gentle kiss before moving to the other.

“god, you feel so good,” she lets out breathily, whimpering at your touch. after a bit she forces your head away from her chest, pushing you back down to remove your pants and her dress, evening the amount of clothing you both wore.

the view of her above you was breathtaking, you couldn’t take your eyes off of her. her hair was messy, lipstick smudged around her face, bruises and bites across her neck and chest. she was a goddess in your presence.

“what are you staring at me for?” she whispers, insecurity well hidden.

“you’re… you’re just so god damn gorgeous larissa,” you pull her down and roll so that you’re on top of her, “i can hardly believe you’re here, that you’re even real,” you kiss her softly. your lips trail down her neck, to her chest, down to her stomach, “and i get to see you like this.”

she pulls you up to her again, kissing you soundly, “it’s hard to believe you’re real yourself. never has anyone spoke to me like this, even made me feel like this.”

you frown at her words, mad at her past lovers for not appreciating her enough. “can i show you how beautiful you are?” you ask gently, nuzzling your nose against her cheek before continuing, “can i taste you?”

she groans at your words, turning her face to kiss you hard, “please.”

you kiss her again, trailing back down her body. reaching her center, you place a light kiss to her thigh, biting the plush surface then soothing it with your tongue. your fingers lightly trace up her legs to hook in her panties and pull them down. you bite your tongue, nearly moan at the sight.

you kiss along her thighs some more, slowly moving closer to where she needed you. you look up at her, “do you want me to continue?”

her hand reaches down for one of yours, and you are quick to follow, tangling your fingers together. she squeezes your hand, “yes.”

you kiss her mound gently, then move to her clit. wrapping your tongue around her, her hand grips yours. your tongue swirls her clit some more before going to taste her fully. your tongue gathers her wetness, you moan into her at the taste. the vibration alone makes larissa choke out a strangled moan. you continue to lap at her, slow, long strokes against her, savoring every second.

a long lick up back to her clit, sucking it gently, working larissa up. your hand that was wrapped around her thigh came to her entrance, slowly pressing your middle finger into her. she moans softly at the touch, squeezing your hand as you pumped your finger slowly.

“more,” she whines, “please.”

you follow command, adding your ring finger when you push back into her again while your tongue plays with her clit. a deep moan leaves her, only egging you on. quickening the pace of both your tongue and your fingers, you feel her legs wrap around you.

you pull back from he clit, pressing a kiss to it when she whimpers. “do you want more, baby?” your only response is a nod and a moan of your name.

your mouth is back on her, only to pull away again to watch her take a third finger. when your forefinger enters her as well, her moans echo off the walls. she pulls the hand she’s holding, wanting for your lips. you keep your fingers in her, letting her adjust as you climb up to kiss her. her arms wrap around your shoulders while her hips chase your fingers, moaning into your mouth. your thumb finds her clit, toying it in circles at the same pace as your fingers fuck into her faster.

you shove your face into her neck, sucking the skin and licking it and she grinds harder against you. she grows frantic in her movements as she gets closer, her walls hugging your fingers.

you move back down, replacing your thumb with your mouth. her moans become more whispers, her breathing shallow. “you can cum, baby. let me taste you,” you whisper.

your tongue and fingers move together at a fast pace, willing larissa to cum. the tight curl your fingers inside her makes her cry your name out as she climaxes. you remove one finger at a time as you slowly fuck her through her orgasm, bringing your fingers to your mouth to clean them. her eyes bore into you as she watches, you watch her in return. you keep your eyes on her as you clean her folds with her tongue, greedily taking every last drop of her.

“you taste like heaven,” you say as you kiss up her body, finding purchase in her neck. you press a kiss to her skin before asking, “you alright?”

she grazes her finger up and down your spine, “more than alright.”

you pull away from her, shuffling off the bed to stand up. she watches as you grab a t-shirt from the top of your dresser and throw it on, admiring you from the bed. “i’ll be right back,” you press a kiss to her cheek before turning to leave the room.

true to your word, you return within a minute, two bottles of water and a wet washcloth in hand. you prop the bottles on the nightstand closest to larissa and move between her legs to clean her up. she winces slightly, still sensitive, but you make it up to her with kisses on her thighs and hips. you drop the washcloth in the hamper, grabbing a shirt for her from your dresser. you lay down next to her, just watching her as she puts your shirt on and lays down facing you.

“you’re welcome to stay, if you’d like. if not, i can walk you back to your hotel,” you say quietly.

“do you want me to go?” she asks at the same volume.

you shake your head against the pillow, “not at all. i’ll even buy you breakfast in the morning, anywhere you want.”

larissa looks at the clock, 3:36 looks back at her, “i think it’s going to be lunch by the time we wake up.”

“ever heard of a diner, gorgeous? they have breakfast all day. you can get…” you look in her eyes, pupils dilating for a moment, “crepes with berries and honey, and a hot chocolate with cinnamon on top whenever you please.”

she stares at you with wide eyes and mouth agape, “how the hell did you know that?”

you laugh, realizing you’d only told her you were an outcast and not what kind, “i’m a telepath, baby.”

she blinks a couple times, “you’ve been reading my mind the whole time?”

you grab her hand, playing with her fingers, “no, i choose when i want to listen in, took a while to figure it out though. i just wanted to know your favorite breakfast, so i just looked for that.”

she pulls you into her, laying on her back to have your weight on top of her, “you are utterly delightful.”

you prop your chin on her chest, “may i ask what kind of outcast you are?”

she takes a deep breath, this was always a dreaded question, but she found herself trusting you with her secrets. she exhales slowly, “i’m a shapeshifter.”

“that’s so cool, i know a couple shifters. parker’s a shifter, but he can only shift to this big ass dog. but not like a werewolf, it’s voluntary,” you say as you glide your fingers up her arm.

“explains the amount of energy he has,” she responds with a huffed laugh.

you giggle at her comment, “i would’ve guessed you were a siren, just from looking at you.”

she smiles, “why’s that?”

“because you’re fucking outrageously gorgeous, larissa. bewitching, truly,” you say like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

you stretch across her to turn the light off before nuzzling into her. you fall asleep to her steady breathing and calm heartbeat, larissa’s arms wrapped securely around you.

—

you wake up in the morning with your face shoved in your pillow, a weight across your back. you crack an eye open, looking down to see a pale hand next to yours. memories of the night before flood your mind, lips growing into a smile. grabbing her hand, you bring it to your lips, gently kissing her fingers. lifting her arm just a tad, you turn and bury yourself in her chest, wrapping your arm around her as well. her arms wrap tighter around you, a yawn passing her lips. you kiss the skin against her neck closest to your lips, mumbling a morning, baby.

she hums in return, snuggling into you as she wakes up. you run your hands along her side, gently coaxing her into the waking world as you press soft kisses to her skin. finally moves by rolling over, trapping you below her, stealing a kiss from your lips. “good morning, lovely,” she whispers.

your peace is interrupted by your phone ringing from the nightstand. she reaches for your phone and and hands it to you, you kiss her hand in thanks. park nasty is calling appears on your screen, you mumble curses as you go to answer.

“what?” you ask.

“good morning sweetheart, it’s lovely to hear from you too,” parker says sarcastically into the phone.

“whatever, i’m putting you on speaker. behave yourself, larissa’s here,” you demand.

“oooo, is that the sexy blonde from last night?”

“yes, now behave yourself,” you repeat before pressing the speaker icon.

“hello miss larissa!” larissa says ‘hello’ back through a little laugh, “anyways, you aren’t going to fucking believe my night. please tell me you’re free for lunch, i’ll be a normal amount of gross i promise,” parker speaks quickly and excitedly into the phone.

you look at larissa as you speak, “well, we were going to go get breakfast- don’t even fucking start,” you can already hear him an snickering on the other line, “maybe you and i can do dinner or something?”

parker suppresses his giggles, “oh, please let me come to breakfast! i need to properly meet this larissa, i wanna hear all about last night’s desser-”

“parker, i will call abuela so fucking help me,” you threaten, and he knows you would.

“okay, okay! but please, let me join!” he drags out the last word, “larissa! please, tell this meanie i can come to breakfast. i’ll be good, scout’s honor.”

larissa chuckles, “yes, you should most definitely join us.”

“larissa please, he wasn’t a boy scout. abuela thought it was american propaganda,” you plead.

“too late! text me where you cuties are going, love you both. bye!” parker hangs up immediately, not allowing room for discussion.

“i’m going to need to stop by my hotel before breakfast, i have nothing to wear.”

you nod in agreement, “i’d offer you something of mine, but it doesn’t really seem to be your style.”

getting up from the bed, you extend your hand to her, “shower before we leave?”

she takes your hand, following you to your bathroom. you grab the hem of the shirt she’s wearing, lifting it up to expose her love-stained chest. she returned the favor, removing your own, as well as your own underwear. she pulls you in for a short kiss, just loving the intimacy of the moment. you both shower quickly, not wanting to leave parker waiting too long, but savor in the closeness and quiet

once you dry off, you hand her her dress from last night, then walk to your closet to pull out a light blue sweatshirt and a sweater. you place the crew neck next to her while you tread to your dresser. pulling cargo jeans out, you slide them on, and your t-shirt is quickly replaced by the thick black sweater. larissa never takes her eyes off of you, shamelessly watching you change, admiring her handiwork across your neck and chest. you catch her staring, and she’s quick to grab the sweatshirt, throwing it on as a means to hide for just a moment.

—

the drive to her hotel was nice, you spent the short journey asking random questions, some pointless and minor, some more thoughtful. favorite colors, worst fears, best birthday present, embarrassing childhood moments, you loved learning about her. you wished you could slow time, freeze and rewind the last fifteen hours over and over again.

she pulls you to her hotel room with your hands interlocked. you gladly watch her go through her outfits with a soft smile on your face, seeing how she pieces together what to wear in her mind. you want to read her, but you won’t unless she allows you to, and even then you’ll likely never ask.

“which do you think?” she holds up a white satin blouse and a white cotton one, and all you can do is blink.

“i think you look best in nothing,” she throws the satin shirt at you, “jeez, woman! i say…” you lean over her bag, spotting a pair of straight-legged black pants, “these, and keep my sweatshirt on. you look good in my clothes,” you smile. she only kissed you in response, before disrobing to get changed for the day as you text parker.

“i can’t be bothered with makeup today,” she grumbles as she laces up a pair of white boots.

you walk around to kneel down to tie the other shoe for her. “you don’t need it anyways,” you squeeze her thighs as you stand back up. “all set, gorgeous?” she nods, grabbing your hand.

—

larissa ends up applying mascara and tinted lip balm in the car while you head to the diner. parking across the street in the pharmacy lot, you jump out to open the door for her, bowing and extending your arm in jest. she smacks your arm playfully before wrapping her own around it.

sitting at table, your let you fingers dance along larissa’s thigh, both talking about random things while you wait for parker. neither of you noticed when he walked in until he slid into the and smacked his hands on the table. “good morning darling, meanie,” he nods to larissa and you respectively.

“so thirds went well i presume?” you say with a laugh.

he nods excitedly, “fourths and dessert too.”

you shake your head as the waiter puts menus down and asks what drinks you’d all like. latte, coffee, hot chocolate with cinnamon, you already knew. you stare at the menu while parker explains the beginning of the whole thing with max.

you turn to the breakfast page, pointing to the crepes for larissa. she smiles excitedly, mumbling to ask you if they have honey, “of course they do,” you say to her with a little smile.

“and so they had me like over the count- you’re not even listening. neither of you, i can’t believe this,” parker goes to smack you with his spoon when you bat him with the menu.

the waiter comes back, and takes your orders, taking a little to much care on larissa’s order. she pays him no mind, leaning on you while she orders, looking at you when you do. he seems to take the hint and quickly walks away, parker’s laugh taking place in his stead.

“doesn’t the fool know a basket of fruits when he sees one?” parker asks making larissa laugh, her hand flying to her mouth. her laugh makes you smile, eyes resting on her face.

“can i ask now?” parker asks, looking at you.

“three questions,” you say with a sigh.

“each?” he says with a sly smile.

“three total,” you say sternly making larissa chuckle again.

“where, how many times each, and are you u-hauling yet?”

your head smacks against the table before coming back up, “i hate you. my place, two and one, and watch your mouth.”

larissa’s head whips to you, eyes bulging out of her head. parker seems to put the pieces together first, because there’s a beat, then a crack of his laughter. he’s nearly struggling to breathe, then cries out when you kick him under the table. he resorts to holding back laughs, wiping tears from his eyes.

“had that much fun, huh?” he looks at larissa, his face turning red from laughter, “oh my god, larissa doesn’t get it. oh my god, please let me stay while you explain this.” you’re want to drown in your coffee cup, you have to explain this with parker across from you while in a public setting.

you duck your lips to her ear and whisper, “i told you that you tasted like heaven, didn’t i? brought me there with just the taste of you.”

you pullback and look at her face, her cheeks go fully red, eyes fluttering. parker is silent screaming at her reaction, you hold your head in your hands. you’re definitely snitching to abuela about his nosiness.

the waiter brings the food, crepes with berries and honey for larissa, eggs with toast and pan fries for you, and waffles with an absurd amount chocolate chips on top for parker. larissa immediately passes hot sauce to you, remembering your comment about loving tabasco sauce. you thank her with a smile, then glare at your friend when he does a little aaaawe.

“are you going to see max again?” larissa asks parker as he shoves half a waffle into his mouth.

he takes a sip of his coffee, “oh for sure. they’re too good not to, super sweet too. they would’ve come along but they had plans at their babcia’s place for lunch.”

you smile at him, “that’s awesome buddy.” you pick up a piece of cantaloupe from your fruit salad and pass it to him to take, he loves it while you loathe it. it just works.

he takes the melon from your fork, speaking while he chews, “what about you two? gonna keep up?”

you and larissa look at each other. you hadn’t even thought about it much, nothing past post-orgasm conversation. you want to say yes, but you don’t want to put pressure on her. she takes your hand under the table and speaks first, “definitely.”

you look at her, “yeah, vermont sounds pretty cool. i could spend some time there,” you turn to parker, “she teaches at nevermore.”

he perks up immediately, “you’re one of us?”

larissa smiles, “yes, i’m a shapeshifter. but i try to keep that a little quiet.”

parker’s grin is huge, dimples showing off, “totally get it. i’m a shifter too, people get a little freaked out by dogs that are five feet tall on all fours.”

larissa’s eyes widen as she looks at you, “you didn’t say he was five feet tall in that form.”

you shrug, “i told you he was a big ass dog.”

parker chuckles, “she was probably picturing a great dane, you moron,” he looks at larissa, “think the grim the harry potter, but lighter fur and better groomed.”

you laugh at his comparison, “sirius black was in prison for twelve years. did you want him to be all fresh and clean?”

larissa just laughs and watches in amusement as the two of you argue over the mauraders, her head on your shoulder, your arm around hers.

—

the rest of the time larissa is in the city, she’s with you. the next three days were spent touring around the city, going to shops and cafes, always ending in either your bed or her hotel’s, depending on which was closer. her departure time was steadily approaching, making you both a bit upset.

she lays her head on your chest, legs tangled with yours, sweat across both your bodies. you take the time to map her body with your fingers, needing to remember every inch of her. she was worth a six hour drive, hell she was worth a six century walk.

“what’s going on in your head?” she asks gently, “i can’t see into your mind, you know.”

you chuckle, kissing her forehead and hugging her close, “i’m just wondering how i can change my powers from telepathy to teleportation. would be so much easier.” she cuddles into you more, hugging you tight.

the next morning is slow, her alarm going off around six, even though she didn’t really need fo be up until seven. she just wanted more time with you. you spend part of your morning just holding each other, soft kisses holding promises. more kisses and hands between each others thighs in the shower, your name spelled on her clit with your tongue, her name falling from your lips as she brings you closer and closer.

you’re enjoying hot chocolate together in the lobby when her phone chimes, the nevermore car was only five minutes away. she looks at you with watery eyes, you bring your hands up to cup her face.

“it’s a six hour drive, whenever you want me there, i’ll be there. i know it’s harder for you to leave, i can organize and do meetings virtually time to time,” you kiss her cheek.

she shakes her head, “you’re job is too important, i can’t ask you to do that. that would just be selfish of me, they need you.”

“baby, i’m only working in person half the week with clients, the other half is all online. i’m a phone call away from any of them, you won’t be stealing me from anyone,” you assure her.

“you have to promise me you won’t sacrifice your job for me,” larissa demands.

you draw an x over your chest, “cross my heart. i’m not sacrificing my job, but i also don’t want to sacrifice you. i’m willing to make this work if you are.”

she kisses you hard, “i’m more than willing.”

you walk her to the car, putting her bags in for her. shooing away the driver, you open the door for her and guide her in. you lean your head into the car, “call me when you get home, okay?”

she holds the collar of your shirt to keep you close, “i’ll probably call you before i even get there.”

you smile and press a sweet kiss to her cheek, “please do, i’m gonna miss your voice.” you clear your throat, “i’ll see you soon, larissa.”

you start to back out of the car when she pulls your collar, pulling you into a long kiss, “better be soon.” she presses one last kiss to your lips before releasing your shirt, letting you back away and shut the door.

the car pulls off, and you watch until she’s gone from your sight. you make your way to your car, exhaling deeply before starting the engine and backing out of the lot.

you’re sitting on parker’s couch, legs draped across max’s lap while you both wait for parker to come back from the kitchen with snacks. community plays on the tv, one of the paintball wars playing quietly while the three of you were talking. your phone ringing breaks the silence, larissa <3 is calling.

“i gotta take this. i’ll be in parker’s room if you need me,” you say quickly to max and you scramble down the hallway.

you click the green answer button, “hey there, beautiful.”

you hear her laugh lightly, “i wanted to call you sooner, but there was horrible service. i’m almost to jericho now.”

“i’m glad you’re safe,” you say through a smile, giddy from her voice, “i’m at parker’s with max, i’m outnumbered here.”

larissa laughs again, making your heart swell, “i’m sorry, lovely. once you come to visit it’ll just be you and me, no being outnumbered or interrupted.”

“don’t threaten me with a good time,” you say, “fuck, is it embarrassing that i miss you already?”

“only if it’s embarrassing that i miss you quite a bit already as well,” she plays.

the bedroom door swings open, parker’s head popping in and pointing at the phone. the second you mouth larissa he grabs the phone and starts talking to her. you wrestle the phone out of his hand, shoving him out the door. “i’m telling abuela!” you yell down the hall, you can’t just hog your girlfriend is screamed back before bringing the phone back to your ear.

“sorry about that,” you say with a huff.

“it’s cute, the two of you fighting over me,” she jokes.

you laugh at her, “pray tell, who has won your affections?”

“park nasty,” larissa deadpans.

“oh my god, i’m hanging up,” you say as you don’t even move to do so.

“no, no, no, no, no. you win, of course you win,” she yells into the phone, “you win over everyone, i swear.”

“everyone? even sarah jessica parker?” you joke, referencing back to her confession of her childhood crush.

she laughs, “yes, even sarah jessica parker.”

banging in the door pulls you from the conversation, max and parker both beating on the door and calling fo you. gimme a second! is screamed at them.

“baby, i gotta go, homosexuals are beating down the door,” she laughs over the line, “let me know when you get to nevermore, okay?”

“i promise. and i’ll see you soon. goodbye, darling.

“bye, gorgeous. i’ll see you soon,” the line beeps as the call comes to an end.

feedback appreciated as always, love you a bushel and a peck <3

#larissa weems x reader #larissa weems fanfic #larissa weems #wednesday netflix #gwendoline christie #brienne of tarth

365 notes · View notes