#larissa weems x f!reader

[littledollll]

Her favorite dancer

Ballet teacher!Larissa x ballerina!reader

A/n: I started watching Black swan in the living room tv today and was quickly humbled by the amount of sexual scenes, quickly cut that out.

Warnings: unhealthy teacher/student relationship, sexual undertones, condescending, manipulation, slightly mean Larissa

____________________________________

“Perfect.”

You lived to hear her utter those precious words. Every second of every day revolves around it. Around seeing that proud smile that would reach her eyes, her chin tilted up as she, admired you.

She, the one who should be admired.

The soft, recorded piano music played, surrounding the empty room with its beauty. An unplanned choreography, you were instructed. The music played and you were to follow, let your creativity and desires use your body as a vessel.

Larissa admired the way you moved. The fluidity of your movements. How every muscle tensed and released with each movement. And as you stepped into an arabesque, the dreadful word came out of her mouth. “Hold that.”

You sighed, your position wavering. Larissa tilted her head, stepping behind you.

“You can do better than this. Your leg goes up to your ear, there’s no reason that leg should be so low to the ground.” Her hands found your waist and thigh, fixing your position.

“I want a your leg to be at chest level, minimum. But I know you can do better.”

“Your body was built for this. Your legs are strong, your back is flexible. Use this to your advantage.” She spoke into your ear. “Have you no idea how many girls would kill to have your body?”

“Lean. Feel the weight of your body on your toes, focus the pressure on your hallux. You should know all of this by now. I haven’t been teaching you for months, only for you to still need my corrections.”

“It hurts.” You uttered in a small voice. Larissa chuckled. “Aww it hurts.. are you just a fragile little girl? Is that it? Are you weak?” Her hands tightened around your waist, fingers digging into your skin painfully.

“The stage is no place for weakness. Nor is my studio. If you think you can’t handle it, I encourage you to leave.”

“Beauty hurts. Art hurts. That is no excuse. I say you’re simply being lazy.” You went to speak, defend yourself but she was quick to shush you.

“Silence. You know better than to speak during my class. I don’t need any more words from you.”

There was no softness in her voice. None of the usual smoothness she spoke with. Larissa could be strict when she needed to, truly she often was. But not to you, for some reason.

“I believe I’ve failed you then. Is that what you’re saying? Are you showing me that my teachings have been ineffective to you, girl? Have you managed to learn nothing in all this time, nothing?”

No no no. She couldn’t think that. Not ever. You owe everything to her. Every bit of your talent has been expanded and bettered because of her.

You whimpered, taking a deep breath in and tightening up your position. She nodded approvingly.

“Good.. you wouldn’t dare make me have my very first failure of a student. You won’t tarnish my reputation like that, would you, my beautiful girl?” You shook your head as best as you could without moving too much.

“You should know I expect better from you, little girl.” She sighed.

“Stretch those lovely arms of yours, aligning with the tip of your nose and your ear.”

You shifted as told, of course. But her body against yours wasn’t helping. It was harder to balance with her pressed against your back, making your body subconsciously support itself against her. “Very well done.”

Larissa knows. She’s been teaching for decades, of course she knows that she’s only making you struggle more. Not that she cares. She’s refining you. Making your practice harder only so you can come out on top. That’s what you tell yourself anyways.

“I will not let your talents waste away simply because it ‘hurts’, my dear. The more it hurts, the better you’re doing.” She said as she stepped back, allowing you to find your balance on your own.

You quivered for a moment but didn’t let yourself fall.

“If you fall from that arabesque you will not like the consequences, my beautiful girl.”

You tightened up in a second. You didn’t want to know the consequences. And you surely didn’t want to disappoint her.

You found your center. The raised leg lifting, ankle height going past your shoulder. Your face spotted, unmoving from one of the walls of mirrors.

“Look at that line.. you’re stunning. This, this is why I work on you the most. You have so much potential yet so little dedication. You need me to guide you. One day, you’ll become my prima ballerina. But only if you put your life into this. Into me.”

Yes, you could do that. You could do it for her. You wanted to hear that word again, to hear her smooth voice call you perfect in that proud tone. You wanted her to show you off, be her model student, her star.

“Give me a nice lift, I want to see that knee in line with your head.”

She watched you through the mirror, as you lifted your torso, rib cage tight in its place and slowly lifted your leg as high as you could. “Hold that.”

Part of you wanted to turn around and slap her every time she said those damned words. But you held. Your supporting leg was cramping up already, your calf feeling that painful strain. Your back felt like needles being stabbed all over and then her hands were on you again. One placed at your knee and the other a little too close to your chest.

She supported your torso as she forced the leg up further, further, further until you winced in pain. “That, is your line.”

“Look at that beauty, look at yourself from this mirror, beautiful girl.” You did. It truly was impressive, but you couldn’t reach that without unbearable amounts of pain, and even less without her hands forcing it. You couldn’t do it on your own.

“One day, my star. Very soon, this will seem like nothing to you. You’ll be able to do it all on your own.” She murmured, dropping your leg but not moving her other hand from its position.

She watched your leg drop in the slightest, you not being able to hold it as she had it. “We’ll work more on this, don’t you worry, little girl.”

“Drop.” She commanded, and you couldn’t stop yourself from falling into the ground, smacking your supporting leg in hopes to ease the cramp. “A little more graceful than that, next time.”

“Yes ma’am.” You said with a shaky breath, looking up at her. A sliver of tears were gathering in your eyes.

She loved it when you called her that. That sweet voice of yours, a little pained and shaky. “Oh it’s alright.. stretch that leg sweetheart, I’ll help you.”

She got on her knees before you, taking off your points shoes and rolling up your tights on that leg before she began to give you a gentle massage. “The trick is to do it in the opposite way you put pressure on it. So up, instead of down. Smacking never really helped me, plus we wouldn’t want to bruise that pretty skin of yours.”

“Thank you..” you said quietly, and Larissa looked up at you with a sweet smile, bringing a hand to caress your cheek. “Of course, my beautiful girl.”

“Did- did I do good?”

“You did wonderfully today. My favorite little student, you’re always a good girl.”

You blushed, resting your head against your knee as you looked at her with a tilted head. “Thank you, ma’am.”

Larissa nodded, patting your cheek. “You may leave now, sweet girl. Don’t practice at home tonight, okay? I don’t want my favorite girl straining herself. I’ll be seeing you here tomorrow.”

#larissa weems #principal larissa weems #larissa weems x reader #gwendoline christie #principal larissa weems x reader #larissa weems x female reader #larissa weems x f!reader #wednesday larissa weems #larissa weems wednesday

[wasjustred]

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

Easy Does It - NSFW Larissa Weems x f!Reader

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

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

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

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

“Ooh, what’s this?”

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

“Larissa, I–”

“Do you like it?”

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

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

“What’s the occasion?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you think I’m pretty?”

She balks.

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

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

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

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

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

…

It’s news to you. 

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

“Kiss me.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Trust me, I’m trying.”

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

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

She doesn’t find any.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But––”

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

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

“Harness?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Pleasepleaseplease, ohfuck––” 

“Y/N–––”

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

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

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

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

#i also tried not to dive too deep into any specific kinks since there was no request for any #i think what i’m gonna do is add to my masterlist what kinks i will and won’t write and go from there! #that way ppl can request as they please :) #if anyone has any constructive/technique-specific comments on the smut pls send them my way!! #i have a tendency to be super explanatory/forward in a way that i don’t think always works for smth so intimate #so i’d love any help i can get! #ANYWAYSSSSS enjoy #larissa weems x reader #larissa weems x f!reader #principal weems x reader #larissa weems imagine #larissa weems x female reader #larissa weems x y/n #larissa weems x you #principal weems imagine #larissa weems reader insert #larissa weems smut #answered (request) #wasjustred

[lucidmagic]

SecretCat!Larissa Weems x f!Groundskeeper!Reader (Part 1)

So I’ve been in the Larissa Weems hole and I haven’t even watched the damn show. And then I though about this post:

Larissa is a shapeshifter it’s a perfect fit!

Hence this small story (I have another planned that’ll be on AO3, whenever I’ll get to it)

Hope you enjoy!

Summary: As the post suggests, Larissa is going around teasing suitors as a cat, and the Reader (you) are the groundskeeper of Nevermore Academy with the biggest crush on her, but doesn’t pursue because you respect her wishes to not be shackled to someone. Oh how wrong you are......

Larissa Weems x f!Reader (Harold they’re lesbians.....)

Words: 3.1k

Trigger Warnings: Unwanted attention from men, storms, mentions of blood, brief animal in distress, useless lesbians being useless, dumbass gays, fluff.

Larissa Weems was 30 when her father, the richest, most influential man in the town of Jericho and part of one of the most powerful shapeshifter families, gave her an ultimatum: Marry someone agreeable and continue the family lineage/business, or he’ll find a suitable husband for her—without her consultation, of course. Obviously, Larissa didn’t take to this well, as she’d rather chew off her own left leg than let a man interfere with her aspirations and goals.

So, being the clever woman she was, she struck up a deal with her father. And being the business man he was, her father agreed.

And so, the most wanted and sought after heiress in the town of Jericho announced that she’ll marry (and subsequently bequeath part of the inheritance of her family’s money and resources to) the one person who can open her family’s manor door with the key around her cat’s neck. The Cat in which many of the town has nicknamed Ghost due to the Maine Coon’s pure white hair. Fitting, you suppose, also considering the animal’s elusive and spectral nature.

And so, many a man (and some women and those beyond and between) have tried—and swiftly failed—to capture, lure, and befriend the Cat.

Ghost was simply too quick, too clever, and far too smart to be caught by snares, treats, and nets. Some have even tried to use sleeping darts. But to no avail, the Cat still wanders the town, gathering bruised egos like dead mice.

Nary a week goes by without a prospective suitor falling to their ass from scaling a tree to get close to Ghost. Or a group of men cooing and offering treats to the animal perched two stories high, looking down with pure feline disgust and disinterest.

The town was littered with new and old snares, traps, and cat delicacies. All of which have been avoided by Ghost, much to the hunters’ chagrin.

All the while, Larissa Weems goes about her career without the interference of matrimony or her father’s whims.

Since the announcement of the Cat Chase, Larissa Weems had since been on an upward trajectory of her career: she became a darling professor at Nevermore Academy at 31 and within five years became Headmistress of the institution—the youngest ever.

Currently, at 38, it seemed she was enjoying her career and spinsterhood—much to the dismay of her father and those courters.

And you enjoyed her as your employer. Being the Academy’s groundskeeper and handywoman after all.

You managed the gardens, the ground’s upkeep, maintenance, health, borders, and general security. Your duties also accompanied that of the estate’s foreman, fixing shingles of the old building’s roofs, plumbing, and other necessities if they needed a quick repair.

You were integral to the preservation and efficiency of the Academy. Principal Weems—or Larissa, she insisted after several months of your service, but you don’t address her as such, out of respect for her position and also the cute, little pout she gifted you when you refuse.

You were good at your job as it’s in your blood—generations of your family served the Academy in some capacity—and in your soul—being a Psychic and all that.

Psychometry is one of your specialties, with the ability to sense an object or person’s history and present, which comes in handy with the multitude of plants and flowers on the property and old buildings. Does this rose need more or less water? What’s wrong with this particular lock? With a single touch you can know.

Coupled with that, either a specialized manifestation or what your father called a ‘drop of Dryad blood’ from a distant ancestor, you can also manipulate plants and trees to a certain extent. Nothing quite like Poison Ivy with her world conquering powers, but you can certainly restrain a person if needed—which had come in need several times with a drunk werewolf or vampire student in the past.  

Your trees were green longer and your flowers were fuller and brighter. Principal Weems continuously tells you the gardens and grounds have never looked so vibrant and fragrant, even when she attended the Academy. You always waved away her compliments to distract from the rising heat on your cheeks.

So, in theory, you could have used your powers to tag-a-long with the others in the attempts to capture Ghost. It would be easy, you think. All the Cat needed to do was step on a vine and that’ll be it.

But no. Despite Principal Weems’ statuesque beauty (and you mean beauty in the sense of an artist’s muse or a god’s weakness, one for the legends and epics, not one for your unworthy, often muddy hands), her quick wittedness (sometimes you two talk an hour or two after she’s supposed to be home and you always leave a little breathless from the opportunity and from laughing), and her intelligence (you honestly think she could overtake the world if she puts her mind to it, just the same way she overtook yours), you respect her decision to stay single and not bound to someone else.

She wanted freedom, freedom her father was willing to sell away to the highest bidder. And you weren’t going to deprive her of that.

Sure, you sometimes catch Ghost sulking and sneaking around the fields and gardens, leaping from branch to branch, flowerbed to flowerbed, whenever you’re working. But you don’t make a show of it. Ghost is Larissa’s cat, of course he’d be at the Academy. She’s coming home to her owner.

Sometimes, you catch her in the tree above your head, looking down with crystal blue, oddly familiar, eyes like a gargoyle or a sentry. On occasion you wave up at the animal with a smile and then go about your work. Ghost must be resting from evading those eager suitors, you think.

Speaking of suitors, they do annoy you—not out of jealousy, of course not, well, maybe. They were going after what they wanted without shame and some part of you is jealous they are so open about it. But, no, jealousy isn’t what irritates you about them.

It’s their reasoning for their ‘courting’ (if you can even call it that). They wanted what she offered—money, influence, resources, and of course bragging rights. You overheard several men state as such at Jericho’s bars, enough that you spoil the barley in their beer with a clench of your fist. They wanted what Larissa comes with—just shallow and gold-digging desires. She always came second. She was an afterthought in their pursuance.

It made you sick and wrathful just thinking about it. Larissa Weems is much more than a trophy. She’s . . . well, she’s her.

She’s cold-natured, meaning anything below 70 degrees, she needs either a thick sweater or a crackling fire. Of the latter, you amply supply with firewood you chopped that morning and restock regularly.

(You try to forget the tall and unyielding figure at the faculty hall, watching on the balcony in grey or white. You doubt you looked particularly decent sweating and swinging an axe.)

She loved fresh tea, none of that packaged kind, but fresh straight from nature. Of which you also gifted her when you can, as you added her favorites in the gardens and made sure the potency is just right with your powers.

(There’s a crinkle of her brow when you drop off a bag of leaves, one that notches up with her carmine lips. If you have the urge to smooth it out with your thumb, you’re just concerned if the stress is showing on her face after hours of paperwork.)

She toured the gardens, sometimes, on her lunch breaks or when she has time in her busy schedule. Larissa will always stop and smell each flower if she can, and always double back to ones she liked just a bit more that day, just one more whiff before she leaves for her office.

(Of course, the next day, you sneak in, with the help of her assistant, to put those she deemed lovely in a vase next to her desk. Making sure to use your powers to make them live and bloom much longer than normal. Maybe, you hope, it’ll give her some reprieve for a moment, between meetings and calls.)

So, yes. The would-be suitors want her, but they don’t know her. And Ghost is just in the crosshairs of their caprices.

And they’re just fucking annoying. Especially, when their traps and snares make their way into your grounds. You always dismantle them when you can, much to their anger and displeasure.

(If you take particular pleasure in it, then no one has to know, but you and whatever god above.)

Of course, one of these times, it was pouring rain, drenching the land—and you—in a deluge. You could barely see five feet in front of you before the grey wall of water overtook your vision. But thankfully, you knew the lands of the Academy like the back of your hand and it was through muscle memory and your abilities that you navigated through the storm.

You had found more snares—made of Kevlar string and securely bolted to trees—in the back of the school during one of your rounds. You didn’t have the tools to properly deal with them. So, you headed back to your tool-shed—only for the bottom to fall out before you could get back.

Now, soaked and a little more than pissed at their audacity, you practically swam your way back. The torrent and winds made it difficult to see, let alone hear. And it wasn’t until you were up on the second to last one that you noticed that it triggered.

And something was struggling, right side up and writhing, clawing and biting at the line. Something whined and shrieked even through the thunder and rain.

No, not something.

Ghost.

Ghost was caught. Her pearl white fur was soaked and drenched, enough that you could just barely see the pink flesh beneath her coat.

Oh no. You must save her. Poor thing.

You rounded on the Cat, strung up on its front left paw. Her mewls were pained and agonizing. Your heart ached.

“It’s okay, I got you.” You said, softly, but the storm deafened it. You approached without thought. And with a single gloved touch of your hand, the Cat panicked more and leapt in a frantic escape attempt. Her paw twisted and another screech rang through the rain.

“Hey, stop! Stop!” You begged but she continued, trying her best to get away from you. Her fur covered her blue eyes and she was in survival mode. You needed to do this quickly before she hurts herself more.

You scoop up the large lump of writhing fur, trying to position her fangs and claws away from you. But the Kevlar string proved difficult with your shears, and it takes you longer than you would like. Three, Four, Five snips. . .

On the Eighth, you manage to cut it—and Ghost managed to wriggle free just enough.

Sharp pain slashed across your forehead, right above and through your brow, and you dropped the Cat as you reeled back, clutching your head.

“Fuck!” Through the cold rain, warmth blossomed in your palm. Faintly, iron entered the air.

Ghost plopped to the soggy ground and sprinted away to a near gate, then she pounced on it—one paw held to her chest. She landed deftly and turned toward you, eyes now free of her hair. Her bright eyes cut through the rain like a beaconing lighthouse. A tiny, razor-sharp lighthouse.

You steadied yourself against the tree and stared back, hand still staunching your wound. With your other hand, you shooed Ghost away and raised your voice so you can be heard over the thunder. “Go on! Get out of here. Go! Go back to Larissa. I’m not going to capture you.”

Ache thrummed across your forehead, but you still stood near the tree, eyeing the animal. After a moment, the white blob in the distance disappeared into the storm. Seconds passed before you sighed and then hissed as the sting increased with pressure.

Well, might as well get the other one while out here. . .

The next day, after intensively cleaning the three gashes across your brow, you visited the Academy nurse. She remarked, off-handedly, “Well, I’m certainly popular this morning.”

You don’t follow up with a comment, only asking her to look at it before you decide to go to hospital. She does and used more disinfectant and sealed the gashes with some Steri-strips and patched it with gauze and tape. With the orders to clean it twice a day, you leave, head throbbing from the poking and prodding.

You go about your day, dodging questions from other faculty and students about your new accessory.

“I fought a bear.”

“It’s a new French trend—you ought to try.”

“You should see the other guy.”

Eventually, your duties lead you to Larissa Weems’ office, arms full of freshly chopped wood. The storm season always brings in the cold and you knew she would appreciate it throughout the rest of the day.

You knocked your signature knock, and after a moment you heard the delightful ring of her voice, “Come in.”

Like a siren’s song, you obeyed. She greeted you with her red-painted smile, one that makes your heart thump just a little bit harder and your breath grow shallow. Larissa’s smile washed over you as you walked further in and placed the wood in its usual rest at the edge of the fireplace. The hearth is ablaze but dwindling. You dutifully added two more logs in and worked it with the poker.

It ignites after a second, and you couldn’t help but linger, soaking in the warmth and the other woman’s presence. Pathetic, you know, yet you enjoy these moments more than you should.

You turned to her, revealing your full figure, and when her cyanite gaze latched on to your patched forehead, the pretty, private grin on her face fell. Que the furrow between her eyebrows and the pursing of her mouth.

“Darling,” she began, voice saturated with concern. The nickname is not an uncommon gift from her to you. Even after all this time, it set something burning in your chest and frayed your will to not drop on your knees in that moment. (You bet she’ll look divine from that angle regardless). “What happened to your head?”

Larissa pushed back from her desk and rose from her chair, revealing her stature in its entirety, swathed in a light cream blazer and skirt combo. If it wasn’t for the slash of crimson lipstick on her mouth, you could have mistaken her for a marble figure, carved by Michelangelo himself. Vaguely you think of the myth about Pygmalion and Galatea.

The shadows of the fire danced across her figure and it took you a moment to find your tongue, “Oh, uh,” You gulped. “I ran into a tree branch yesterday afternoon. During the storm.”

You don’t want her to worry about Ghost—and by extension, her freedom.

She stared down at you, blue eyes almost black, and you resisted the urge to fidget. Then, something on her arm caught your sight and you zeroed in on the brace wrapped around her left wrist.

“You could ask you something similar,” you said. Your gloved hand reaches out to brush it, just light enough. If only it touched true to her skin. But your abilities can be unpredictable even after all these years, and you’d rather not glimpse something she wouldn’t want discovered. Hence the constant use of gloves.

“What happened? Who do I need to beat up?”

She gave a low chuckle from her chest. “No need to defend my honor. A simple sprain.” When you were about to protest, she continued, “. . . I tried to get somewhere, but I ended up biting off more than I could chew.”

She sounded hesitant, but you didn’t want to push. She needn’t disclose anything, especially to someone like you.

“If you want, I can whip up a salve from the gardens. Something that could numb it or even speed up the healing process.”

That gentle grin was back and your heart beats traitorously in your chest. “That would be lovely, dear. Thank you.”

You gifted her your goofiest of smiles. “Of course, Principal Weems. Is there anything else?”

There it was. That pout. Adorable.

However, her lips smooth over as another lesser-known visage crosses her features—playfulness she rarely displays to just anyone, lest her stalwart reputation be stained. Your breath stilled.

God, you’re hopeless.

Swiftly, much in the opposition of her height, she bent just enough to skim her lips over the gauze on your brow, and with a ping of pressure, she placed a kiss right above the wound.

Something deep within you latched around your heart and squeezed. A delicious shiver raced across your spine, spreading as if someone lit a wick and the line ignited all the way through your body.

Oh, that’s new.

Larissa leaned back just so, taking in your dumbfound face before she turned back to her desk. Far too proud of herself, you think. “If you want, we can have a nightcap together tonight. It’s been a while since we sat down over a glass.”

She’s right, you vaguely think. Between the beginning of the semester and some donor kerfuffle earlier this month, you two hardly had the chance to hangout. Not that it was a common occurrence to begin with, but it usually happened every month or two. It started about a year into your employment, and you had a feeling she did so to extend a branch of friendship.

Yes, friendship. That’s what you must remember. Nothing more. Despite what your heart wants, your mind knows best. Larissa Weems was a lonely figure, whether due to her job or her family, she needed someone in her corner.

“I would love to. Text me when you’re done for the day, and I’ll head over.”

She answered with a soft smile, one that crinkled her eyes.

You left her office, earning a strange look from Larissa’s assistant and some of the faculty in the hall.

The rest of the rounds go by in a blur of muscle memory and anticipation. You do give her the salve, dropping it off with her assistant, who still gave you a peculiar glance.

Hours later, after you did your deeds for the day and interacted with dozens of teachers and students, you went to your lodge to wash up before that evening. You don’t want to trek in mud or appear ungrateful after all. White and dirt don’t go together.

And that’s when you finally noticed, brandished on your brow the entire day, the damning deep red, lipstick outline.

So should I continue with part 2? Let me know!

Anyways back into my cave...

#larissa weems #larissa x reader #larissa weems x reader #principal larissa weems #larissa weems x female reader #Wednesday #netflix wednesday #principal weems #principle Larissa weems #principal larissa weems x reader #my fic #lucidmagic #lucidmagic story #wednesday fanfic #my fanfiction #larissa weems x f!reader

[daydream-cement]

My Neighbor Lady (NSFW)

Characters: Larissa Weems x F!Reader

Synopsis: You are stuck in a failing marriage and your husband takes you on a work trip. Your only solace is the fact that your beautiful neighbor seems to have eyes for you.

Authors Note: Thank you to the GCG for helping me come up with this brilliant idea for a fic.

Truthfully, you couldn't understand why he chose to hold on to your marriage. He kept assuring you that this trip would be a chance to rekindle your relationship, but then when you are left alone together, he completely ignored you.

Each day when he left for work, you would retire to the pool, enjoying a book and trying to forget about your reality. Well, that was until a black car pulled up and her tall frame stepped from it. She looked like a pin-up from the 1950s. She was an utter dream with her red lips and cream-colored fitted dresses.

You licked your lips when she bent over, leaning into the trunk. She was so beautiful you couldn't help but stare and watch her take her bags in the cabin. She came back out to the car, a final time to grab her purse, and she glanced up at you. She noticed your staring as you sat by the pool and she gave you a small smile before heading back inside her new temporary residence.

You move to lay on your stomach, looking to get an even tan. The book wasn't nearly as interesting as the thought of that beautiful woman. Not a thought of your husband passed through your mind. You were too busy thinking about that body. Her legs. That Ass.

A shadow blocked the sun from your book, interrupting you not reading it. "Excuse me."

You look up and there she is. The sun seems to halo around her and you wondered for a moment if she was an angel towering above you. Your mouth gapes open and you lean up on your elbows to get a better look at her. She is wearing a sheer swimsuit cover but you can easily see her beautiful pale body underneath. Her legs seemed to lead all the way up to heaven.

She noticed you admiring her body and she cleared her throat to gain your attention, "I'm new here. My name is Larissa. Can I sit by you?"

You finally look up to her face and, of course, she is even more beautiful up close. You watch her closely as she takes a seat on the lounge chair next to you. She pulls the swimsuit cover over her head and soon you are leering again.

Larissa folds up her coverup and soon notices you staring once more, "Um, what might your name be?"

You shake your head and push yourself into a sitting position, so you could actually have a polite conversation with this gorgeous woman, "Sorry, I was... distracted. I'm Y/n. I live across the street there. "

"Lovely. I'm glad to see we will be neighbors." You watch as her eyes drift from your face down your body. Larissa made it obvious she was staring at your breasts, hips, and legs. You watch as her tongue wets her lips, her gaze returning to meet yours, "So what do you do for fun around here?"

-----

The next day you began thinking about Larissa as soon as you woke up. Your husband getting ready in the bathroom was an afterthought. Last night was wonderful with her. You had shared a bottle of wine and chatted intimately, getting to know one another. You even spilled the woah's of your marriage with her and she began sharing the frustrations of her career.

Larissa was initiating contact all evening with her hand touching your arm or leg as she laughed. When she walked you to the door of her cabin, her hand was pressed to the small of your back. She leaned down and whispered in your ear as you left, "I hope we can have even more fun tomorrow."

You double and triple checked your appearance before you met Larissa out by the pool. She was resting in a pool float when you arrived. Her eyes were covered by large sunglasses and she had one leg resting in the water. Even though it was early in the morning, the temperatures were already soaring. You stared at her from the edge of the pool, licking your lips at the sight of all of her exposed skin.

"Stop staring and get in." Her words are utterly relaxed but you felt the anxiety shoot through you. She always seemed to catch you when you were staring. Leaving your belongings on a lounge chair, you take a seat at the edge of the pool near Larissa.

You stop yourself from audibly sucking in a breath when she moves her float closer to you, placing a hand on your knee to keep herself close. Her thumb moving gently in circles. You mouth ran dry and you wondered if you were going to be faint. You felt a ache between your legs that you knew you would have to take care of when you went home.

That wasn't all. Her hand crept higher, stopping about mid thigh and she spoke to you so casually, "You know, I saw this little cafe when I was driving here. Maybe we could grab lunch there today."

"Mhmm." You took and deep breath and leaned back on your hands, trying to ignore how wet you were becoming from her manicured hand that lingered on your leg. The images of Larissa pulling your bathing suit to the side, her fingers dipping in and out of you, perhaps she owned a sex toy she could-

"Y/n, are you even listening to me?" She sat up in her float, moving her other leg off the side so she could face you. She balanced herself with her second hand on your other other thigh. Could you cum without her even touching you sexually?

You open your mouth to speak but no words come out. Instead you just choose to nod and hum, feigning like you were paying attention.

"Am I making you nervous?" Her hands moved higher and you felt your pussy throb at how close her long fingers were to your heat. You felt her hands move down again, her fingers grasping your knees and shifting your legs apart. Your breathing was heavy and you glance around, making sure that no one was looking, "I see the way you look at me."

You glance back down at her and she had slipped off her float, standing in front of you. You had forgotten how tall she actually was. Her hands leave your thighs and she props her head on her hands, her elbows resting between your legs.

She kept going, "Would you like to kiss me?"

Her bottom lip is between her teeth. She slowly releases her lip and her mouth opens ever so slightly and you see her tongue twisting in her mouth, teasing you. You still hadn't spoken, so she backed off a bit, sliding away from you and backing into the pool, "Maybe you should join me in the water..."

You didn't have to be told twice. You slid in the pool not caring if it seemed like you were chasing after her.

"Eager are we." She moved towards you as soon as your body hit the water. Larissa gathered you in her arms and you were pressed against the edge of the pool, her leg coming up between your legs. Her hands wrapped around your middle and your mouth was now a watering at the feeling of her breasts against yours.

"Please..." You could only make out the one word. You wanted her terribly.

Her face moved closer, leaving an inch of space that she expected you to close. You did without hesitation. Her lips were incredibly soft and you were ready to deepen the kiss immediately. You moaned into her mouth and moved your hands to the sides of her head to kiss her deeply.

Truly, you didn't even know this woman, but you were ready to be on your hands and knees before her. You couldn't help yourself when you ground your hips down on her thigh. The aching between your legs was becoming unbearable.

Larissa parted the kiss with a delighted hum, "Oh, do you need something from me, baby? Is that silly husband of yours not giving you what you need?"

You take the moment to look up and around the pool again, hoping no one was watching or listening, "I want you... Fuck me, please..."

Her hand slipped between you and she began playing with your clit under the water. Now you began moving your hips against her hand, knowing that it wasn't going to take much for you to cum. You were on edge just from her touch.

"Can you imagine what I could do to you with that vibrator I have back in my room? I would love to see you writhing on my sheets. Or should I sit on that pretty face?" She growls in your ear, her fingers working even quicker against you. Your hips jerk against her hand in response, knowing your orgasm was drawing near.

"Yes, please... I want all of it... I want all of you..." You gasped, trying to keep yourself quiet. Larissa loved your words and she wanted all of you as well.

You came with a muffled scream, burying yourself into Larissa's shoulder and keeped your jaw shut to prevent your voice from carrying.

"Perhaps we should continue this at my cabin." Larissa whispered in your ear as you gripped her tight, still coming down off your orgasm. Once you had this taste of Larissa, you knew you would need more. You wanted to hear her moans. You wanted to feel more of her touch.

That day you skipped lunch and dinner in exchange for eating Larissa. Once you were in her cabin, she closed her bedroom door and pushed you to the bed, stripping you of your bathing suit. She pulled the ties of her bikini and the pieces of fabric went falling to the floor.

Everything about your sex was so unabashed and uninhibited. You basked in the feeling of her body against yours. For the time you were with her, you forgot of your ailing marriage. you could only think of the way her long fingers slid in and out of you or relish in the fact that lipstick stains would cover your body.

She walked you through giving her head. Larissa tasted devine and her moans were even better. You were even proud of yourself when you gave her two orgasms on your first go around. Afterwords, you lay in each other's arms, basking in the after sex glow when you realized it must be getting late, "What time is it?"

Larissa turned from you, picking up the watch she had discarded onto the nightstand, "Almost 7pm."

"Oh, dear. My husband is home from work. I have to go." You gathered your bathing suit and pulled the cold and wet fabric against your body. Next you, wrapped your towel around yourself.

As you dressed yourself, Larissa sat up in bed her words and hands trying to stop you, "Do you really have to? You didn't go back home until 10 last night..."

"Yes! I don't need him being suspicious. I already stayed too late."

Her hand caught the fabric of the towel, pulling you closer to her. You gave in and bent down to give her a final kiss. Larissa smiled and murmured against your lips, "You are covered in my lipstick..."

You gasp and pull yourself from her grasp, heading towards the bathroom to clean yourself up. Larissa tries stopping you once more as you head to the front door, pressing her lips to yours. The old married couple a house down watched you do the walk of shame from Larissa's cabin. Old Luci and Em rocked in their chairs and smirked as they knew what you had been up to with Larissa.

Link to Part 2

#larissa weems x reader #larissa weems #wednesday netflix #f!reader #fanfic #principal weems #principal larissa weems #larissa weems smut #smut

[fruitylo0pz]

A New Start pt. 1 (NSFW)

Larissa Weems x fem!Reader

Warnings: Smut (with some aftercare), NSFW, 18+, sub!Larissa, spanking, fingering, cunnilingus, degradation kink

Word count: ~3.7k

A/N: Okay, so this one turned out a lot longer than intended and has a bit of a slow buildup before the smutty part so it might not be for everyone. But I do hope whoever reads it will enjoy it! I actually liked writing it, and I found myself intrigued with Larissa being uptight and upper class and a bit of a prude. I think I just fell in love with the idea of Larissa being very "traditional" in the sense of being married to a man and then BOOM just having some sort of sapphic epiphany. I have proofread it, but as usual I post right before I'm off to bed so apologies for any mistakes.

____

Tall, blonde, beautiful and sophisticated. This must have been the fourth or the fifth time you had seen her at the store, and you had caught her staring each and every time. Whenever you looked back, she blushed and looked away as if she hadn’t just been eyeing you up. You smirked to yourself and this time you decided to pursue it, curious about the outcome. You hadn’t really ever done anything like this, but you had to shoot your shot with her.

“Hi, I’m Y/N. I usually don’t do this, but I’ve noticed you staring every time I’ve been in this store and I had to try. Here’s my address. It’s up to you, but you’re gorgeous and I’d love to have you over for a glass of wine.” You winked and gave her a note with your address and number. This was so out of character for you and it immediately sent a nervous wave down your body.

She hesitantly took it and put it in her pocket, and it almost appeared like she was afraid someone would notice. “I’m involved with someone. Whatever you thought you saw was not the case, but thank you. Flattering.” She blushed and seemed embarrassed by the interaction, and you decided to leave her be. You didn’t want to get her in trouble. You were relatively new in town, and realised that people probably knew who she was pretty well.

You went home and put on a random movie you found on Netflix, trying to forget about her dismissing you at the store. Why did she even take the note if she wasn’t interested? You really had hoped she was different, but why would she be? She seemed classy, and she probably was just as classy as she looked. You decided to pour yourself a glass of wine to wind down when the doorbell rang. It was getting pretty late, and you didn’t really even know anyone in town but you decided to open the door regardless. You had a few colleagues you were getting closer to at work so you figured it could be one of them. 

“Oh, I was not expecting to see you. Come in, please.” You were trying to wipe away your shocked expression when she walked inside, and she did not look happy. 

“What you did was assuming and inappropriate. I am in fact married, and walking around stores giving out your address to strangers is a bold thing to do. Are you always that confident?” She looked at you with a stern look, but there was something else hiding in the back of her eyes that you couldn't quite read. 

“So you went all the way over here to tell me that? You’re married, yet I found you staring and eyeing me up at the store numerous times. Forgive me for assuming anything at all, but if I was married, I wouldn’t do that. It’s a shame, because I could show you a very, very good time.” You winked and moved closer to her so she ended up backed up to the wall. 

“W-well… Yes. You shouldn’t have done it. I wasn’t staring, I was just looking. Pretty cocky, aren’t you? You don’t know what you could give me.” She was clearly nervous and looked at you with furrowed brows, but whatever her eyes were trying to hide was still there.

“You were looking several times. I���m not cocky, but it’s pretty easy to tell when someone gives you a brief glance or they look at you several times. You fit into that last category. But don’t worry. Glad we sorted this out, and I won’t keep you. Go home to your husband. ” You gave her a sarcastic smile while eyeing her up before you opened the door. She hesitated but left. 

You scoffed and shook your head. Why did she even bother showing up if she found herself so deeply offended by it? She could have thrown away the note and forgotten about the whole thing. Suddenly, the doorbell rings again and it’s her. 

“Now, you listen to me. Do you know who I am? I am the headmistress at Nevermore Academy, and I am used to a certain amount of respect around here.” She pointed a finger at you and you moved closer. 

“And I think you came here for a reason. I bet I could make you squirm within minutes. That uptight attitude does something to me.” Your eyes wandered down her perfect curves. She was wearing a cream white dress with matching heels. She looked stunning, but she probably always did. 

“You really have no idea who you’re dealing with. How dare you speak to me this way? I don’t know where you work, but I could have you fired within an hour.” She tried sounding intimidating and threatening, but she was blushing. Your words got to her, but she did not want to admit it. You were however not too happy about the way she spoke to you, like you were inferior. You pulled her inside and pushed her against the wall.

“Okay, headmistress who also seems to be running this town. I told you to forget about it. But you were the one who couldn’t keep your eyes to yourself. Quick advice for the future; control your staring so you don’t give people the wrong impression. Eyeing people up when you’re happily married? That’s pretty unusual too. I’ll leave you alone from now on, and I’ll make sure to leave the store if I see you. Okay? Now, if you’re done berating me, you’re free to leave.” Once again, you open the door but she doesn’t move. Whatever she was hiding in her eyes was becoming more apparent. It swam to the surface in her deep blue eyes. It was lust. You were right all along. 

Her entire demeanour changed. It was as if she let go of something that was holding her back, but she was still nervous. “I came here for a reason. And as for happily married? A man that doesn’t see me or love me? Frankly, I don’t love him either but in my position and him being an important businessman in this town breaking it off will just look bad. I have never been with a woman, and I have never found another female attractive, but there is something about you. Your confidence. The way you carry yourself.” She looked away, and she looked unhappy after talking about her unhappy marriage. Like she was ashamed of being trapped with someone who didn’t even care for her. 

You put a finger under her chin so she was forced to look at you. “I don’t understand how he can ignore someone like you, and not even look at you. You’re a goddess. You’re absolutely stunning. Do you think I go around handing out my address and phone number to strangers? I have never once done that before, but I found myself infatuated with you. I had to take a chance eventually. You should be worshipped.” You wiped a tear that fell from her eye. She wasn’t used to hearing words like that, you could tell that much.

“My name is Larissa. I realised I never told you that. And thank you for your kind words.” She smiled gently and blushed, and she clearly liked your compliments.

“Hi, Larissa. Very nice to meet you, and learn your name! I was just having a glass of wine. I realise I’m pretty much a stranger to you still, but would you care to join me?” You looked at her with a questioning look, hoping she would stay.

“Thank you, Y/N. That sounds lovely. It’s not like he would notice that I’m gone anyway.” She gave you a light chuckle and you helped her with her coat before guiding her to the sofa. You went to the kitchen to fetch a glass and the wine bottle before pouring her a glass.

“So, Larissa. Headmistress, huh? That’s pretty impressive. A colleague of mine told me about Nevermore. Sounds pretty cool! I think it’s great that you have a school for outcasts where they can be themselves. Society is too quick to judge people that deviate from what they think should be the norm.” You shook your head and took a sip of your wine.

She looked shocked at what you just said, like she had never heard anyone talk about outcasts without judgement or resentment. “I… Thank you. I should probably mention that I am a shapeshifter. And I am not used to anyone saying things that aren’t filled with disgust or hatred for us. Especially not a normie.” She gave you a soft look that almost screamed “thank you” and you could tell that she already felt more comfortable.

“A shapeshifter?! That is so cool! So you can shapeshift into anything you want?” You were genuinely excited about her confession, and you truthfully had always found outcasts interesting and fascinating, and you would always defend them if they were brought up in discussions. 

She laughed, and her laugh was so delightfully genuine and the most wonderful laugh you had ever heard “Yes, I can shapeshift into anything I want. It’s not a power I use very often, but it can come in handy at times. But enough about me. What about you? What brought you to Jericho?” She put her elbow up on the back of the sofa and leaned her head on her hand. She looked curious and like she really wanted to know more about you, and not like she had asked as a form of courtesy. 

“My girlfriend cheated on me with my best friend, and I don’t really have any family I talk to. I needed a new start, and I was looking to get as far away as possible and ended up here. I work as a web developer, and I found a job with a company here. And that’s how I ended up in Jericho! I really like it so far.” Thinking about your ex annoyed you, and talking about her made you even more annoyed. 

She looked at you with an almost horrified look on her face. “Y/N, that is terrible. But on the other hand, they both showed you who they really are, and I’m glad you got away from them. But I am sorry to hear that you don’t have any close ones. Aren’t you lonely? Being in a new town all alone?” She moved slightly closer, still with a horrified and almost sad look on her face. 

“I am an introvert so I enjoy my own company. I haven’t been in touch with my family for years and they don’t accept me for who I am. When I came out, they gave me an hour to pack up my things and I never looked back. I’d rather be alone in a new town than with people who can’t accept me for who I am.” You gave her a reassuring look, and noticed that she had moved even closer again. She was looking intently at you, almost as if she wanted to give you all the caring and love she felt like you had been missing.

“You went through more than you deserved. I might not know you that well, but I can tell that you’re a wonderful human being. You should always be able to be yourself, and no one should judge you for that.” She took your hand in hers and you twitched at the touch. Her skin was soft and warm, and it felt like electric shocks pulsated through your body.

“It’s fine now, I feel nothing when I think about them. I am better off without them. But thank you, truly. You’re a beautiful human being yourself.” You felt liberated in her presence, and it was so easy to talk to her. She was so different than she had first seemed, and you thought it might be the wine but mostly it felt like she just let go of the outer shell she so often had to carry.

She moved even closer and her eyes met yours in an intense stare before she gently grabbed your hand again. “Did you really mean those things you said to me? Those… Those nice things?” She blushed and looked down, still holding your hand. 

“I did, Larissa. I think you’re absolutely breathtaking, and I also do believe that you should be worshipped like the goddess you are.” You moved slightly closer and rubbed the back of her hand with your thumb to show her that you meant it. She seemed insecure, even though you had no idea how that was even possible.

“Would you… Uh… Show me?” She looked at you with the most genuinely innocent look you had ever seen and it made your core tense up into a string of heat immediately. 

You leaned forward to kiss her, and she eagerly responded and let out a whimper into your mouth before your tongues started dancing in a slow, intense dance. It felt so right, so warm and so filled to the brim with sparks and emotions. 

“I’ll show you. Just be a good girl and follow my lead, and I’ll make you feel things you have never felt before.” Your lips swept gently down her jaw towards her neck before you left tender kisses and she let out a deep groan. Your hand moved to her back and you were about to pull down the zipper to her dress when she pulled away. 

“I… I don’t think I can do this. What do you want with an older lady like me? You should find someone your own age.” She fiddled with her hands and looked down.

“Larissa, I want you. If I wanted someone else, I wouldn’t have left my address with you. Now, please… Let me take care of you. Let me see you. Let me feel you. Let me taste you.” Your hand gently cupped her chin and she looked you in the eyes.

She blushed and gave you a smirk you didn’t know you had been waiting for, but it was all you needed in that moment “I don’t have any clue what to do, but… Your words make me feel things I have never felt before. If you want to see me… Let me show you. Take me to bed?” She got up and you followed her before grabbing her hand and taking her upstairs to your bedroom.

“I do want to see you, so please… Show me, if you want to. If you don’t, there is no pressure.” You let your hand gently stroke her cheek so she knew that she really didn’t have to do anything she wasn’t comfortable with. 

She pushed you down on the bed and the lust in her eyes filled them entirely. “Tell me what to do. I want you to use me.” She bit her lip and her hand wandered from her neck and down her body. 

“If you’re absolutely sure, I will gladly tell you what to do. Use the word “torch” if you want me to stop or you’re feeling uncomfortable in any way, okay?” You took her hands as a way of showing her that her feeling safe was important to you. 

“I will use the word “torch” if I’m uncomfortable. And I am absolutely sure. Now please… Use me like the dirty whore I am for you.” Her words made your eyelids flutter, and hearing her say something so filthy with her heavenly voice and that accent was almost too overwhelming.

“Strip for me. All of it.” Your voice was firm, and you leaned back on your elbows, following her every move. 

She reached to her back and pulled down the zipper. The way she looked at you with a sweet mixture of innocence and desire drove you absolutely insane. She had been an uptight upper class lady an hour ago, and now she was referring to herself as your dirty whore. She let her dress fall to the floor, and you found yourself in awe, mouth agape with hunger for her. She unclasped her bra and pulled down her panties while gently rolling her hips. 

She moved closer and discreetly spread her legs a bit as an invitation. Your reassurance and compliments had wiped away her insecurity and it thrilled you. She should feel like the goddess she is, and she should feel appreciated. “Please touch me.” The tone of her voice was filled with a lustful desperation, and you couldn’t control yourself any longer.

“On the bed. Spread your legs.” You watched as she crawled onto the bed and laid down before spreading her legs. Her inner thighs were dripping with her arousal and you got on your knees between her legs before leaning down to kiss her chest. Your mouth drew a trail towards her breast before you bit her nipple and she whimpered. Your hand travelled down her stomach before it found her mound and you groaned when you felt how wet she was. Your fingers started drawing lazy circles on her clit and her breathing got heavier. 

You continued kissing down her stomach, and she was already twitching underneath you. Her skin was soft and warm, and you could feel her legs spreading more and more before your lips found her clit and you gently sucked it. “Mhh, Larissa. You taste so fucking good.” She gasped, and you let your tongue trail up her slit before you started circling her clit in slow circles while you shifted position and let your fingers trace her entrance. 

Your tongue picked up the pace a bit and you felt her fingers in your hair. You let two fingers slide slowly inside her and her walls immediately clenched around you as she once again gasped and let out a filthy moan. “Oh, Y/N… I need more, p-please.” You added another finger and she screamed out, meeting you in the thrusts. Your tongue kept working on her clit while your fingers pumped hard and deep. The way she was clenching let you know that she was close and you shifted position a bit so you got closer and your tongue started circling harder on her clit. Her moans became louder and louder until she began squirming and shivering as she exploded in a loud orgasm and released a warm wave of her sweet arousal over your fingers while screaming your name. You let her ride it out and slowly pulled out your fingers when she had calmed down enough. 

Suddenly, she turned over and got up on her knees. “Please. More.” She looked at you and begged you with her eyes.

“Aren’t you a desperate little whore for me, hm? Can’t get enough, can you?” You spanked her and she whimpered.

“No, I can’t get enough. Please fuck me. Make me yours. Use me, use me like I’m your toy.” She spread her legs, and you shoved your fingers inside her soaked cunt. You started thrusting hard and deep right away and it was an exhilarating feeling having her in your complete and utter power and on her knees before you. It didn’t take long before you could sense that she was close again, and you spanked her before fucking her harder. She tipped over the edge and came in a loud orgasm, and you continued fucking her to her delight. 

Her eyelids fluttered and she was panting while her arousal poured down your hand with every thrust, and her orgasms kept coming as her legs spread more and more. She clearly loved being used by you as she cried out in whimpers and moans while coming over and over again, each and every orgasm just as loud and intense. Eventually, you could tell that she was overstimulated and exhausted and you let her ride out her last orgasm before you gently pulled out your fingers and leaned forward to kiss her back. 

You went to the bathroom to get a warm washcloth before gently cleaning her up. She had moved to the side of the bed when you came back and she smiled when you looked at her. “Y/N… That was incredible. I don’t know what else to say. No one has ever… Well… With their tongue…” She blushed and gave you a quick kiss on the cheek.

“How on earth is that possible? Well, I am honoured to have been the first, because you taste like heaven.” You winked and kissed her before stroking her cheek. She blushed at your words and chuckled lightly. 

“Thank you, Y/N. For making me feel the way you made me feel. No one has ever made me feel this desired before. This is the craziest thing I have ever done, but nothing has ever felt so right.” She looked like she was in complete awe, and she stroked your cheek. Her touch was so soft and caring, it almost made you melt. 

“I am so glad I handed you that note, no matter how inappropriate it might have been. Oh, and… Would you like to stay the night? Or do you have to go?” You looked at her with a look that you hoped told her that you were dying for her to stay. 

She looked at the time and sighed. “I’m afraid I have to leave. But if you’re free tomorrow, perhaps you would like to come and keep me company when you finish work? I have a long workday tomorrow, and I have a private flat at the academy for when I have busy days. I know it’s unfair, but I’m afraid this is how things will have to be, at least for now.” She stroked your cheek again, as though she was trying to apologise. 

“I would love to, Larissa. The thought of fucking you in your office is a very thrilling thought.” You gave her a sly wink and she chuckled. 

She got dressed and you followed her downstairs. You took a peek out the window and made sure no one would see her leaving. She leaned down to kiss you again and looked into your eyes before moving towards your ear. “It’s as if I can still feel your fingers inside me, Y/N. I’ll dress up nicely for you tomorrow.” She bit your ear, sending shivers down your spine. You had awakened something in her, and you were the only one who could feed it. 

#larissa weems x reader #larissa weems x you #larissa weems smut #larissa weems x y/n #principal larissa weems x reader #wlw #f!reader #larissa weems fanfic #gwendoline christie

[mithriil]

Snow White Hands

Larissa Weems x Reader Fluff (mostly, teeny-tiny mention of smut but not really)

A/N: I have a lot of thoughts on hands, thats it, thats the fic. Link to Ao3  or read it here under the cut.

Hands were tools, used everyday to carry groceries, hold books or open doors, to wash dishes or clothes or to use other tools in turn.

Yet hers, hers were so much more than mere tools to do her bidding - hers were an art piece, a performance of elegance you could watch endlessly, dreaming the day away, too lost in the way she delicately held a pen or gripped onto the armrests of her chair when agitated about work.

How sometimes she would get lost in her thoughts and trace mindless patterns into the dark wood of her desk, the flames of the fireplace in her office casting her long fingers in a warm light, accentuating her knuckles and bringing the gold on her ring finger to a warm glow.

Sometimes you could see the fine bones and tendons of her hands stand out as she gripped tightly on the fine silk sheets of the bed, her red nails nearly ripping apart the soft bedding as she frantically whispered your name as if it were a mantra she was reciting, too lost in her body and mind to comprehend much of her surroundings except you and your own hands.

Your own hands, which were a mere tool, in no way comparable to the beauty of hers, tasked with the sole purpose of bringing her to a blinding peak in those moments. Capable of soft caresses and stinging slaps, rough pinches yet sweet petting. Afterwards, she would gaze at you with such warmth and joy, take your hands in hers and kiss them with such reverence, it made you forget for a moment that yours were but a tool. To see her cherish you so, look at you so lovingly, it was as if just for that minute you could believe your own hands being beautiful, being more than just a tool, but a piece of art in their own right.

Feeling her delicate touch in your hair, gently petting and combing through it, you sometimes felt as if you were levitating above your body and watching it happen from outside, imagining her long fingers carding through your hair, gently scratching at your scalp with her painted nails, softly grazing the tips of your ears as she told you of her day and you listened and hummed in pure content.

Lost in your thoughts and memories you didn't notice her trying to get your attention, not until you felt her warm touch on your cheek. She had taken off one of her gloves, her cup left aside as she looked slightly concerned at you, brows furrowed and red lips pursed.

The noise and chatter of the little Café returned to you, the tinkering of the barista and and frantic typing of the student in the booth behind you grounding you in the moment.

Looking up into her worried eyes you let out a small sigh, relishing her touch on your cheek, cupping her hand with one of your own and letting a small smile shine through before gently nodding your head. You were perfectly alright, more than alright even, sometimes you just got lost in the little details that made up her. You felt the ring against your cheek as she, now assured that you were fine, slowly let her hand slip down, grazing your jaw before coming to rest on the table between you both, your hands now entwined. As you began absent-mindedly playing with her hand she gently smiled, endeared by the unabashed affection in your eyes as you recounted the book you last read to her.

You were perfectly alright, more than alright even, sometimes you just got lost in the little details that made up her, but who could fault you for that.

#larissa weems x reader #larissa weems #hands are just #just #ugh #things to do at night instead of sleeping - ruminating on the beauty of hands #* #fanfic #f!reader #but once again I don't really specify anything so please read it as you like #gwendoline christie

[nightingalespen]

New chapter of “C’est La Vie" out now!! 💋💋

#larissa weems x reader #larissa weems #principal weems #gwendoline christie #wlw #wednesday #ao3 fanfic #f/f fanfic

[epiphanyfics]

Killing Me Softly (Larissa Weems/Reader)

Synopsis: Principal Weems notices you're nervous around her, and invites you to the Weathervane to clear any tension between you. What starts as a promising friendship turns into... something else.

Pairing: Larissa Weems x teacher!reader. f!reader implied.

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: NSFW/Sexual Content

Author's Note: Absolutely did not go into this intending to write smut but here we are.

You sat silently in principal Weems’ office, listening to the ticking sound from a clock on the wall. Larissa sat across from you tapping two of her fingers on her desk. She had called you in to talk about something, and even though you had just been hired as a teacher at Nevermore a few weeks ago, principal Weems already made you extremely nervous.

“I called you in here to ask if you’d like to have a drink with me this afternoon, after school. I can tell there’s some tension between us, and I’d like to clear it.”

“I think I would like that.” You quietly replied, It took all you had in you not to let out an audible sigh of relief that you weren’t in trouble for something. You knew, logically, that you shouldn’t be this scared of principal Weems. It isn’t like you have anything to feel guilty about, right?

“Great. Do you like The Weathervane?” Larissa looked at you with her full attention. It felt intense, and gave you feelings that you didn’t quite know how (or want) to dissect right now. You just nodded, unable to force a reply out of your mouth.

Larissa stood up to walk you out, giving you a gentle smile. “You don’t have to be nervous around me darling, I don’t intend to be your enemy.”

You made it to The Weathervane earlier than planned. It was all you were able to think about for the rest of the day, and you weren’t entirely sure if you were excited or scared. You watched the door, fidgeting with your hands. You really hated this feeling. It was like you were a student going out on your first date all over again. Except you weren’t a student, and this wasn’t a date.

When Larissa finally walked in, she was all grace and elegance. As always. She waved at you and walked over to sit in the seat across from you. You couldn’t take your eyes off of her even for a moment. She had a presence that filled a room in such a way that you weren’t sure why everyone else wasn’t staring at her.

“I hope you haven’t been waiting too long.” Larissa didn’t give you much time to reply before waving over the waiter and ordering for the both of you. You were surprised that she remembered your favorite, you had only mentioned it in passing once.

“Principal Weems, I’m sorry if I’ve been impolite.” You began, getting straight to the point of this meeting. “It hasn’t been my intention.”

Larissa laughed a little. “Larissa. Call me Larissa. We’re not at work, and this isn’t a formal meeting. I was hoping with could build some sort of friendship.”

You smiled, and nodded softly. “I would really like that, Larissa.” You were already gaining some confidence in speaking to her. Maybe this whole thing was a good idea after all.

You talked about a lot of things with Larissa. You felt more comfortable to talk to her in this setting, and might have even overshared a few times. You lost track of time, and were asked to leave at closing.

You stepped outside on the sidewalk and let the night air hit you. It was cold and dark tonight. Jericho was usually off putting to you, and now was no exception. Larissa placed her hand on your back and let out a little hum. The physical contact made your face go red. You looked down, hoping she wouldn’t notice.

“Let me drive you home.” Larissa offered, although not in a tone that gave much room for you to question it.

She walked you to her car and opened the door for you. When you were both inside, she turned on the heater and sat for a moment, letting the warm air fight off the chill. You sighed and turned to look at her in the seat next to you. “I wish I didn’t have to go home yet.”

She turned to meet your gaze, but didn’t say anything for what felt like forever. “I don’t want you to either.” She spoke in a voice quieter than you had ever heard her speak in.

After a few moment of silence, you realized just how close together the two of you really were. You leaned in a little and planted a chaste kiss on the corner of Larissa’s mouth. It left a faint stain from your lipstick.

Larissa smiled and turned away from you to start the vehicle. You wished she would say something, or kiss you again. You don’t know what even came over you to think you should’ve done that in the first place. After a few moments of driving, you finally blurted out a nearly incoherent apology. “I’m sorry, that was unprofessional of me. I promise I won’t let it happen again.”

She glanced at you, but quickly returned her gaze to the road ahead. “I didn’t mind it.” She spoke so matter-of-factually that it was a little jarring. “Don’t apologize.”

You sat in silence for the remainder of the car ride. You wanted to kiss her again right then and there, and probably would’ve if it wasn’t for the danger of getting into an accident. The car ride went by fast, you sat parked in the driveway for a few minutes, just looking at her. Like you were looking for the right words to beg her not to leave you.

“Larissa… I had fun tonight.” You whispered, too afraid to speak any louder. “I don’t want tonight to be over.”

Larissa took your hand and squeezed it affectionately, before leaning down to kiss it. “Do you want me to come inside with you?”

You looked away from her, trying to hide how red your face is for the second time tonight. “I would love that.”

She smiled, and moved to get out, quickly coming around to open the door for you. “Watch your step.” She said with a little laugh, extending her hand to help you out.

“Aren’t you polite?” You joked, and leaned into her touch as much as you could as you stepped out of the car and shut the door behind you. Larissa kissed your hand again, this time leaving a trail of kisses up your arm and stopping at your neck. You shivered softly at the affection, unable to hold back a little smile. The exchange grew more intense quickly. She kissed you hard, mixing your lipsticks to create the most perfect color you had ever seen.

A sharp moan left your mouth as you felt a hand running down your hips and pressing you onto the cold metal behind you. Larissa pulled back a little to see your reaction, and let a hand slip under your waistline. “Do you want to do this? Here?”

You nodded affirmatively. “Please, Larissa. I want you.” You managed out, pulling her a little closer.

Larissa smiled, satisfied, and slipped her hand a little lower. “Do you think you can be quiet for me? You wouldn’t want your neighbors to hear you.”

You bit your lip hard as she began to touch you. She was right, if any of your neighbors heard this you would never live it down. You buried your head in her neck and stifled as many of the moans as you could manage to.

Larissa was amused by how hard you were trying to be quiet. She sped up, watching and listening to you squirm under her. She clearly wasn’t planning on making this easy for you.

You tightened your grip around Larissa as you got closer to climax, completely expecting to fall apart in her arms, but she abruptly stopped and gave you a little smirk.

“I want to hear you beg for it.” She said simply. “Show me how much you want me.”

“Please” You managed out, taking a moment to gather more words. “Please Larissa, I want you to make me yours. More than anything right now. Please.”

Satisfied, Larissa continued. Fast and abrupt, without any ease back into it or warning. “I want you to be mine.” She whispered, using her free hand to hold you as still as she could.

You came fast and hard. Stifling a whimper and clutching onto the taller woman with all of your strength. “Thank you. Thank you.” You managed in-between breaths. You let yourself come apart for her, like putty melting in her hands. It was perfect, like nothing you had ever experienced before. You trusted Larissa with everything in you. You trusted her not to hurt you, after all of this.

"We should do this again sometime." You finally said after catching your breath.

Larissa laughed at the abruptness of the statement. "Yes, I think we should."

#larissa weems/reader #larissa weems #wednesday #principal weems #f!reader #gwendoline christie #larissa weems x reader #live laugh larissa weems #wlw #fanfic #fanfiction #teacher!reader

[littledollll]

Ok but manipulative obsessive ballet teacher larissa keeping her star student after hours so they can focus on her technique in more ways than one

AND YOU JUST KNOW SHE’LL HAVE HER HANDS ON HER STUDENT AT ALL TIMES

It’s to help your form she says, definitely not just to see how flustered you can get

Private lessons

Ballet teacher!Larissa x ballerina!reader

A/n: is this becoming a thing? I think it’s becoming a thing. I’m kinda obsessed, could be a little AU for us?👀 also I’d like to note that while I’m not gonna specify age in hopes of inclusivity, reader is around their mid 20’s.

HAH I wrote that back when I thought I was gonna have the ideas and motivation keep writing. Anyways, this is my last draft. Hope you enjoy!!

Warning: unhealthy teacher/student relationship, touching, sexual undertones, little bit of mean Larissa

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“I will say this once and only once. At this level none of you should not need me walking you through every little step like the girls from baby ballet!” Larissa spoke loud enough to fill the room, before signaling the pianist to begin playing.

Everyone ran to form a line across the back of the room, you ending up fifth in line for the exercise. Perfect spot. Only four in front to watch, and be done quickly.

“However you’d like to start, give me four pique turns to the center, four changing fouettés, pas de bourree and close with a triple.”

One by one each student went. Some being sent back to start from the beginning if they messed up, some going without comment, very rarely did she praise anyone.

Your turn came, you started in a simple fifth position, spotting towards the diagonal which just so happened to be exactly where Larissa was standing. You had no trouble keeping your eyes on her.

“Thank you!” She said in a very clearly annoyed tone. “Finally someone who knows how to spot correctly. The rest of you should learn a little from this starting position. Go on, my dear. I apologize for interrupting your start.” You gave a short nod and began your sequence. Everything was going perfectly until the final part, where you failed to complete the third turn, but saved it by landing on fifth.

You quickly got up and were about to scurry back to the beginning but Larissa spoke up. “No need. You were perfect till the very end and at least saved it. Back of the line.”

You smiled, Larissa smiled back, giving you- a wink? Oh you must have been seeing things. She wouldn’t. What an odd thing it would be for her to do. Regardless, you nodded, looking down as you walked past her only for her to stop you in your tracks and tilt your chin up with her pointer finger. “A ballerina walks proudly. She floats with a straight back and gentle steps. Chin up, my dear.”

Surely she could see the dark red blush covering your cheeks, she nodded you off to continue walking, a smile still on her lips.

When she turned to continue the class, her smile fell, and the strict teacher was back.

When everyone was done with diagonal, she called back to center. “That will be all for today. Applaud yourself for the effort and I will see you all tomorrow.” She locked eyes with you as she spoke, before turning to talk to the pianist while everyone packed up and left.

“You. Stay back, my dear.” A few girls looked back, but she was very clearly talking to you. Her direct tone made it seem like you were in trouble, making your heart race.

“O-okay. Should I keep my pointes on?” You spoke as you stopped in the middle of untying the ribbon. “Yes, please do.”

“Is something wrong, ma’am?” You asked softly as you noticed her staring, watching you. She shook her head with a smile. “Nothing at all, darling. You’re a great student, I’d just like to give you a few pointers.”

By the time you finished tying your ribbons back on securely, and stood, walking over to her, everyone else was already gone, even the pianist. And Larissa had closed the door with the last one out.

“I’ll start with how you failed that triple turn. It shouldn’t be much of a difficult thing for someone of your level…” she mutters.

“Yes, I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened.” You said, lowering your head.

Larissa stepped in front of you, so close you could practically feel her breathing as she once again tilted your chin up. “What did I say about ballerinas, sweetheart.”

You blushed at the closeness, this woman was beyond beautiful, and talented. Having her this up close felt like an honor. You felt so small next to her. “They walk proudly.” You answered.

“Good girl. So you do listen.” She stepped back and you immediately missed her presence so close to yours. “Fortunately for you, I do know what happened.”

She rounded you. “Get into fourth, give me a clean double.” You did as told, a clean double pirouette, finishing back in fourth position.

“Good. Now give me a triple, this time focus on what you’re feeling.” Again, you did as told and just like last time fell on the last turn.

“Do you see the problem?” “Yes- I think so.” She nods. “Tell me.”

“My heel is on the floor by the time I’m in the third turn.” She looked at you proudly for a moment. “Very good. You’re dropping your heel. When you do a double it’s no issue because you’re still high on pointe. But you’re turning in demi at the third. No dancer of mine turns in demi at this level. That’s for the little girls. Tell me miss, are you a little girl?”

“I- well- no of course not.” She hummed, bringing a chair in front of the mirror, centered in the room. She pointed at you to move to the center as well as she sat down, crossing her gorgeously long legs.

Any dancer would die for those. You’re sure she was the envy of the whole school back when she was just a student. “You’re acting like it. You turn like it.” Her voice brought you back in the moment.

“Anyone can do a simple turn. I’m sure the damn pianist could come do one for us. Anyone can do a double too. Any one of the juniors at this establishment could. You’re failing, at this age and this level. I mean you can do it, but you don’t do it well.”

“I can. I promise you I can. I’ve done it before!” You rushed to prove yourself to her. She was the last person on earth you wanted to disappoint.

“Well of course you have. You wouldn’t be in this level if you couldn’t pull off a simple triple turn. So what is it? Are you finding the easy way? Is this you being lazy, in my class, miss?”

You wanted to cry at just the idea of disappointing her.. and this was how she saw you? Some lazy brat in an advanced class while she was God herself to you? That wouldn’t do.

“I’ll help you, my girl. You dance beautifully, you move and project emotions the way no other can. But you’re falling at the basics. All the talent and emotion in the world won’t save you if you can’t pull off a good turn. Try to think of any important role to dance which doesn’t turn.”

“There’s not many..” you said quietly. You wanted to bring your head down again, truly, you felt shameful. You could do it, both of you knew that. But you weren’t, why is that? Larissa wondered.

“Not any, my dear.” She sighed, walking behind you. “I want you to try for four turns with me here. I will spin and support you. Just keep that heel up.” You nodded, getting into fourth, and doing a plié before starting your turns.

Larissa’s hands moved quickly around your waist, guiding you through every turn and stopping at the four count. “You’re very capable. You can spot well, you could turn ten times with me here, I bet. But I trust you know that there won’t always be a pas de deux in every show or every dance. There won’t always be somebody to help you turn.”

“Yes I know, ma’am.” She smiled. “Of course you do. You’re a smart girl, my dear.”

“You trust that I won’t let you fall, yet you’re not trusting yourself.” She said, squeezing your hips lightly as she kept her hands in place. “You have the strength to stay up, no doubt. Trusting yourself is just as important.”

“Let’s try to balance on pasé for a few, hm? Get your body comfortable with staying up for a longer time.” She stepped back.

Her eyes were racking over your body. You could feel it, it only made your blush grow deeper. “Slowly. Take your foot from the ground up to your ankle first.” You moved as she spoke, she seemed to approve of that.

“Up your calf… and above your knee. Do not rest it, now hold.” You were perfectly still once she told you to hold position, settling all the shaking in an instant.

“Your breathing cannot interrupt you. I want it to look like you’re not even breathing. Keep that rib cage closed tightly and focus. Imagine there is a string going straight through the center of your body, pulling you up toward the ceiling.”

You breathed slowly, barely. Not even thinking about uttering a word at this moment. “Turning is much easier than balancing. You have more momentum to stay up, and as long as you don’t move and exaggerated amount you can get away with not being perfectly in center with your body. Though you should be.”

You felt the warmth of her hands again. You could see her blurry in the mirror, trying to keep your face straight. You stared right into your own eyes.

Her hands were under your breasts for a moment, pressing down on your rib cage gently. “Tightly closed. Very good, my darling.. very good.” She whispered.

Larissa’s hands caressed your thighs before reaching your knee, spreading your leg a little more open. “I should be able to see you in one line if I were to look at you from the side. Keep your knee aligned with your shoulder.” She spoke softly, having no need for loud words as she was practically pressed up against you.

Your balance shook as she adjusted you, but she didn’t let you fall. Instead helping you find your balance once more before moving on. “You’re focusing too much on me. I’m not even here. Now rest.”

You sighed in relief as she gave that command, letting your pointe trail down your leg the same way it trailed up, until you reached fifth position and got off pointe, allowing yourself to rest.

“That was very good.. I would’ve been a little disappointed had you not done that. Half the girls would rush, out of sheer desperation but you.. you did that stunningly. A very good girl, you are.”

“Thank you, ma’am.. I’ll be honest, I do my best to impress you…” Larissa quirked her brow. “Is that right.. Well, lovely girl, you do a good job at it. Let’s get those turns right and I’ll be even more impressed, proud, even.” Larissa hummed as she traced down your spine with her long fingers, and then reached your skirt.

Shamelessly, she began untying it, removing the garment from your body and throwing it next to her chair. “That thing only makes seeing the things I need to see harder.” You nodded in agreement, feeling your skin heat up as she held your hips for a few moments much longer than necessary.

“We will work on your left side another time. For now I want to focus on getting that left heel to stay up.” She stepped back, moving around you to be in front now. “Give me a triple pirouette.”

You took a deep breath in, breathing out slowly. You moved into fourth position, doing a deep plié before you started.

This time, you stayed up longer, but let your heel fall by the end. Larissa sighed. “Again.”

It went on for some time. Each time you would get closer to doing it right, finally. “Again.”

“Let’s try something. Think about doing four. Set your mind, we’re doing four turns, but remember you’re closing, cleanly, on the third.” You nodded, feeling anxious about how many tries this has already taken. No doubt you felt Larissa was tired of this.

With the thought cemented on your mind, you went for four. Just keep the heel up for four.

“One.”

“Two.”

“Three, close it!” You landed it right as she finished speaking, closing on a tight fifth position, your arms rounded and lowered around your bellybutton.

“Absolutely perfect. You did perfect, my dear. That was the cleanest I’ve ever seen you turn.”

“Why’d you count?” You said in a whiny tone and Larissa couldn’t help but chuckle. “You all hate it when I count. But it helped you, didn’t it? I’m just guiding you, my beautiful girl.”

You smiled, “yeah it did help..”

“Come, sweet girl.” With hurting legs you walked to her, standing in front of her with little idea of what exactly to do. But she grabbed your hand and pulled you towards herself, wrapping you in a soft hug.

It was certainly an odd thing to do, but her warmth was something you seeked.. and God, was being in her arms delightful.

She rubbed your sides gently, caressing over your soft leotard. “You did very well, my star. I want to see this progress shown in the next class, yes?” You nodded, nuzzling yourself against her neck without even thinking about it. And breathing in.. she smelled expensive, a little woody but also floral. You wanted to bathe in whatever perfume it was she wore.

“Very good, my girl. It’s time for you to get home.” You almost whined as you pulled away from her, and Larissa hushed you. “Change out of your pointes, and don’t forget your skirt. I have to close up here soon.”

You nodded, going over to your bag and quickly changing into your street shoes and some shorts. “Um, thank you, ma’am. For helping me and everything.”

“It’s a pleasure to help such a delightful student like you, always.” You blushed, waving a quick goodbye before practically skipping out of the room.

Larissa smiled as she saw it written clear across your face, she had you wrapped around her little finger. What a good girl you truly were.

#larissa weems #wednesday larissa weems #larissa weems x f!reader #gwendoline christie #larissa wednesday #larissa weems wednesday #principal larissa weems #larissa weems x reader #larissa

[wasjustred]

Winter Weather Warning - NSFW Larissa Weems x f!Reader

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

Pairing(s): Larissa Weems x femprof!Reader

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

Word Count: ~6.3k (oops)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Especially when it’s her asking.

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

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

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

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

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

Her touch leaves an emphatic tingle in its wake.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s Larissa.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Really?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She’s never been more beautiful to you. 

“Take me to bed.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You might’ve been wrong.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#i’ve been super stressed trying to live up to ‘easy does it’ tbh so i hope this is at least decent 😅 #don’t think i’ll ever beat the sugar mommy fic lol #ah well! #i love exploring/constructing the parts of larissa we never saw (like her childhood) ﹠. i hope you guys do too! #my girl’s def a rider #i’ll stand by that till the day i die #accompanied by expensive ​purebred well-trained dogs throughout childhood #but is more of a cat person now – relaxed and easy #guilty pleasure romcom is ‘the proposal’ #and not just bc that’s also MY guilty pleasure romcom 😇 #n e ways hope you all enjoy :) #lmk your thoughts! 🫶🏼 #larissa weems x reader #larissa weems x female reader #larissa weems x f!reader #larissa weems x y/n #larissa weems x you #larissa weems imagine #larissa weems reader insert #larissa weems smut #principal weems x reader #principal weems imagine #wasjustred

[happierhere]

Chapter 4

It might be good practice, Emily thinks. If the principal were to make it a habit to use her gift to spy on her, it might be good to see if she has a tell. She doesn’t think the shapeshifter has tried to engage her in another form yet.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/44155531/chapters/113047870

This chapter kicks my ass, but no fears. There will be alcohol in the next chapter! 

#emily prentiss #larissa weems #larissa weems/emily prentiss #larissa weems / OFC #larissa weems x reader #emily prentiss / F #fanfiction #larissa weems x emily prentiss #emily prentiss x larissa weems #larissa weems x ofc #emily prentiss x ofc #under her skin fic

[rippersz]

𝑻𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒆'𝒔 𝑨 𝑫𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎

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

✧･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

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

Too tired for tags... waaaa...

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[ecoamerica]

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[daydream-cement]

Okay hi! I love your writing so much!!

I have a request that I’m embarrassed about but I just need it in my life, if you’d be up for writing it of course!!

So it’s a reader x Larissa request.

Reader is laying down playing video games on like a Nintendo switch or something and not paying any attention to Larissa and Larissa is like getting a lil annoyed because reader is so distracted by the game. So she eventually decides that she’s had enough and either start fucking her while she’s playing or shes like punishing reader for neglecting her :))

Feeling Neglected

Larissa Weems x f!reader (NSFW)

Authors Note: This was a slay. Thank u for this anon.

You lay on your stomach across your bed, playing video games. You had been working on completing a certain task for days now and finally you were ready to face the final boss. Video games were your special activity to play on the weekends and occasional weeknight to unwind from the week.

Larissa sat up in bed, your legs on either side of her. She had been content reading a book for a while, but soon she was seeking a different kind of stimulation and she wasn’t going to get it from a book. She disposed of the book on the nightstand, turning back to rest her hands on your ass. Gently, she began grabbing and squeezing at your ass, causing you to laugh and shift away.

“Riss, I am so close right now.” You say, referring to your game, but Larissa’s mind traveled elsewhere. Her hands shifted inward so her caressing was closer to your pussy. You shift again, knowing what she is up to back there.

Larissa was a little annoyed at you shifting away. She grabbed your hips and pulled you back so you couldn’t escape her. Then you felt her fingers pulling aside your panties, you were regretting only wearing a shirt of Larissa’s to bed. Larissa’s voice sounded like she was innocent, “When are you going to be done, honey? I’m just getting so bored.”

“Just a couple more minutes…”You tried focusing in on your game, ignoring her squeezing and rubbing, but it was becoming challenging. You had seen people pass this level before, you only had a little bit left. You felt her fingers spreading your cunt. You wished that she didn’t make you so wet, but it was impossible to resist her.

Larissa said nothing, but her gentle teasing made you nervous for something greater to come. There it was the final boss, accompanied by Larissa’s fingers sliding into you. You couldn’t help yourself when you pulled one leg higher to give her more access, your movement making Larissa smirk.

She gave you a couple pumps of her fingers before pulling them out. You wondered if she was done, but she was actually just swirling her tongue around her fingers before pushing them into you once again. You moan, pressing a wrong button and accruing more damage to your character than normal, “Shit.”

You try shifting you hips away from Larissa again, but she was ready for you, grabbing you hips and pulling you closer again. Her gesture made you laugh.

“Just give me a couple minutes, Riss.”

“I can make you cum in a couple minutes.” You felt her graze your cunt with her fingers once more. This time she moved her fingers lower to circle your clit. You couldn’t help but back your hips against her hand, wanting more.

“Please…” You whine, not knowing if you were begging for her to stop or to make you cum.

Larissa chooses the latter and moves her fingers back up to finger you. She gently pushes in one finger and then another. She pumps them in and out of you as you push your face down into the bed. You had completely forget about your game.

Her spare hand moved down so her thumb could rub against your clit as she finger-fucked you. You let out a long moan, fully allowing yourself to enjoy the sensation. Her fingers leave your clit for a moment and a swift spank comes down on your ass, surprising you, “You don’t want me to feel neglected. Do you, baby?”

“Mmnnm.” You hum in response, unable to truly focus on her words.

Larissa only smirks to herself, understanding that you were absolutely putty in her hands. Your moans became uncontrollable as she continued her movements on you. You were so close, you just needed a little more.

“Cum for me, baby…” Larissa whispered, speeding up her fingering and increasing her pressure on your clit.

You did as you were told, cumming on her fingers and pushing your face deeper in the bed to muffle your final groan. Larissa pulled her fingers from you, tasting them and then giving you a final spank, “Win this game so you can give me some head.”

“Yes, ma’am.” That sounded like an order. You take a deep breath, lifting your head and grabbing the controller.

#larissa weems #f!reader #fanfic #wednesday netflix #gwendoline christie #larissa weems x reader #oneshot #larissa weems smut

[fruitylo0pz]

Secretary (NSFW)

Larissa Weems x fem!Secretary!Reader

Warnings: Smut, some fluff towards the end, 18+, NSFW, dom!Larissa, fingering, slapping, degrading, strap-on, cunnilingus, slight dumbification?

A/N: Well, soft Larissa is here to stay it seems. I’m not sure if this is the beginning of a series yet, but we’ll see.

Word count: ~2.4k

_____

You had been her secretary for three months now, and you could not take your mind off of her. You did however consider yourself professional, and you would never act on it. And besides, what would she want from an inexperienced and shy girl like you? You were always thorough with your work, and made sure to be in control of everything. She was intimidating, but never unpleasant or mean and she had always treated you with respect and kindness. She just had an extremely dominating presence and it didn't help that she was so tall, although that made her even more attractive. It was the end of your workday when you suddenly remembered that you had forgotten to write down a message from an important call that came yesterday. You had no idea how or what to tell her, but you knew you had to. 

You knocked on her door, and you could feel your insides trembling with fear and you were so nervous you thought you were going to pass out. “Come in.” her sweet voice always gave you butterflies, but you were too nervous to even notice them.

You entered and walked over to your desk. You were paralysed. You found yourself looking down, hands in front of you.

“Y/N, what is it?” you looked up and felt like combusting “Ms. Weems, I- I am so sorry, but I need to notify you about something. Yesterday, you got an important phone call and I forgot to write down the message. I am so terribly sorry, I-” she got up and walked over to you, and cupped your chin “Y/N, it’s not the end of the world. Most of these callers claim to be important, but usually they think far too highly of themselves. Please don’t feel bad.” it felt like the weight of a mountain was lifted from your shoulders “thank you, ms. Weems. I have written down the message here along with the name and the number. Again, I am sorry. It won’t happen again.” 

Larissa lifted your chin up with a gentle gesture “Y/N, you do a wonderful job. You’re the best and most thorough secretary I have ever had, and you never make mistakes.” you could have sworn that you caught her eyeing you up up and down, but you knew she would never and quickly dismissed the thought. “Would you like to stay for a cup of tea, Y/N? I know it’s late, but I never got the chance to talk to you and I would love to get to know you better.” she looked at you with a gentle smile and you blushed “Thank you, ms. Weems. I would like that.” she gestured for you to sit down on the large leather sofa in her office while she went and prepared two cups of tea “Please, call me Larissa. You’re not at work now and you don’t have to be so formal.” her curves looked even more heavenly in the dim lights. You tried not to stare, but you couldn’t help yourself. Your eyes were locked when she turned around and she must have caught you.

You quickly looked down and started fiddling your fingers. She slowly walked towards you and put the cups down before she cupped your chin again, forcing you to look at her. She had a sly grin on her face “do I make you nervous, Y/N?” you gulped and could feel your cheeks burning “I- I am so sorry. M-maybe I should leave.” her hand was still cupping your chin when she sat down next to you “not so fast, Y/N. You really think I don’t notice you staring? The looks you give me when I walk past you?” your cheeks were on fire again and you couldn't speak “Y/N, I asked you a question. Be a good girl and answer me. And be honest.” you melted at her calling you a good girl.

Your panties were damp, and you knew she wouldn’t let it go until you gave her an answer. “Ms. We- I mean, Larissa… I find you very attractive. I don’t mean to stare, and I am sorry. I know it’s unprofessional, and I know I shouldn’t do it. I just think you’re so beautiful. There.” she smiled and moved her hand to your thigh. You twitched at the sensation a simple touch from her could give you. “I’ll let you in on a little secret, just between the two of us. I have desired you ever since you started working for me. Your polite and obedient nature has awakened something in me, and your staring has confirmed that I believe you feel the same. Am I right?” Larissa Weems? Larissa Weems wants you? You must have been dreaming. “Y-yes, Larissa. Like I said, I would have never acted on it. You’re my boss. And I have no experience, so I don’t think I would be of any interest to you.” you looked down, feeling embarrassed about your confession.

“I am your boss, but you’re not at work right now. And if you can be an obedient and good girl, I can give you experience.” she moved closer, and let her hand slide further up your thigh. Not a lot, but enough to make your breathing go slightly harder. “Can you do that for me, Y/N? Hm?” she put two fingers under your chin and you looked at her and nodded “yes, Larissa. I can be a good girl for you.” she leaned in to kiss you, and it felt like your entire body was burning. She used her tongue to part your lips and you followed her every move, figuring it was best to let her take the lead.

She let her hand slide up your waist “So polite. And I do need to say this first. If you feel uncomfortable or want me to stop, say “red” and I will stop what I’m doing right away, okay?” you nodded. She smiled and looked at you “May I undress you, Y/N?” her lips had moved to your neck and your breathing was even heavier “Please, Larissa. I want you to use me.” she chuckled while she started to unbutton your shirt. Her pupils were blown with desire and lust for you “such a desperate slut, are you? Hm?” the name calling made you whimper “y-yes, Larissa. I am your desperate slut.” she smiled while pulling off your shirt “oh, and you already know who you belong to. Good. I was afraid I would have to teach you that. Come, let’s continue this in my bedroom” she pulled off your skirt before she grabbed your hand and led you through the door. 

She undressed herself before you, and you were mesmerised. She was wearing a white lingerie set and you could not believe the fact that Larissa Weems was undressing herself in front of you. She sat down next to you on the bed, and gently pushed you down before spreading your legs. You blushed and she kissed your neck again, before her hand slid underneath you and unclasped your bra. She threw it away before her hand found your breast and pinched your nipple, a moan eliciting your lips “good. I want to hear you, Y/N.” she kissed her way down to your breast and let her tongue flick your nipple, making you moan even louder. She started sucking, biting and licking it while her hand slid down your body again until they found your now soaked panties “oh, wow. You’re a dirty little whore, aren’t you?” the new name made you quiver “Y-yes Larissa, I am your dirty little whore” you were surprised at your own response. You had never been in a situation like this with anyone, but you really wanted to do whatever she said. 

Larissa bit your neck, leaving a red mark. “I gotta make sure to mark you so you don’t forget who you belong to then. I’m glad I caught you staring, because I am going to make sure to fuck you dumb, my desperate whore.” your legs parted more as an automatic response to her words. Fuck, she made you feel so dirty and filthy and you loved every second of it. She pulled down your panties and let her hand find its way to your dripping wet cunt again. Her skilled fingers started rubbing your clit, and you felt like you would come right away.

“Are you ready for me, darling? Are you ready for me to fuck you?” you gasped as her fingers traced your entrance “please fuck me, Larissa. Please let me feel you” she smiled and let her fingers slip inside, making your back arch and you moaned out loud. She started off slow and hard and the feeling of her long fingers deep inside you made you dizzy and hungry for more. She added a third finger and you shivered from the combination of slight pain and immense pleasure. “Oh- oh god, Larissa. Fuck me harder.” she stopped and pulled out her fingers, before grabbing your chin.

She hissed and gave you a stern look. “Are you already forgetting your place? You’re my whore and my toy, you don't tell me what to do. You’re not in charge here. Turn over and get on your fucking knees. And you will call me mistress.” you nodded as you turned over and kneeled. She grabbed your hair and pushed your upper body down on the bed before spanking you hard. The burning sensation lingered, but led to a new wave of lust pouring down your thighs “oh, you really love being my little whore, don’t you? Stay right there.” She got up and walked over to a drawer. She pulled out a harness with a large strap and you whimpered. It was intimidating, but oh so thrilling.

“I said I was going to fuck you dumb, and I will. Are you ready for me, whore?” she rubbed your clit with the tip and you moaned “please, mistress. Please fuck me. I’m ready for you.” she slowly pushed it in, stretching you out as you gasped and grabbed the sheets. She pulled it almost all the way out before it slid back in, letting you adjust to the size. “You’re taking me so well, Y/N.” she grabbed your hips and started fucking you deeper and you were whimpering desperately with almost every thrust.

She chuckled before pulling out and turning you over. You immediately spread your legs for her, moaning and writhing from pure lust. She pulled you towards her and the strap slipped right in. She immediately started thrusting deep and hard, making you almost reach the top straight away. Your breathing became more erratic and she could tell how close you were “cum for me, whore.” She fucked you even deeper, harder and faster while her nails dug into your thighs. The words along with the deep thrusts were all you needed and you came as your back arched and you screamed out. She pulled out, and you were still shivering. She kissed you and let you calm down.

“Now it’s your turn to make your mistress feel good, slut.” she grabbed you by the hair and guided you down between her legs, and pushed you closer to her soaked cunt. The scent of her arousal made you desperate as your tongue reached her clit. You had never done this before, but her response and immediate moans assured you that you were doing something right. Her taste was intoxicating and it was the sweetest nectar you had ever had, making you feel hungry for her. “You’re doing so well for your mistress.” her hand was still in your hair, pulling you closer.

Your tongue was switching between circles and steady movements up and down her swollen bud. “Oh yes, just like that. Oh, you’re my good whore. You're going to make your mistress cum…” her breathing became shallow, and she moaned and gasped while your tongue went faster until she tipped over the edge, trembling and twitching underneath you. “Oh, Y/N. I have never felt this good before. Thank you.” her voice was soft and genuine, making you blush. “Thank you, mistress. It felt amazing.” she chuckled and sat up before kissing you.

“You don’t have to call me that now, darling. Would you do me the honour and stay the night? It’s getting far too late, and I don’t want you driving back alone at this hour.” the thought alone made you grin and blush again “I would really like that, Larissa. Thank you so much.” she kissed you again before getting up. She went to get you a glass of water before getting back in bed with you, pulling the covers over you.

“Are you okay, Y/N? Do you need anything? Was it too much for you? Please, let me hear your thoughts so I know I wasn’t too rough.” you smiled gently and chuckled lightly “it was perfect, Larissa. I loved every second of it, and you weren't too rough. Thank you so much for this. I didn’t think you would feel this way about me, and I hope I did okay.” she gently brushed your cheek “Y/N, you did more than okay. I mean that. Now, I know it’s Saturday tomorrow and that you have the day off and you might not want to spend it with me, but I hope you will at least consider staying for breakfast?” she looked at you with an anticipating look. You grinned and nodded, thinking about how you'd gladly stay all day but didn't want to seem desperate. 

“Good, I’m happy to hear that. I am so sorry, but I might fall asleep soon, darling. And that is not because you bore me, quite the contrary. But you did wear me out, though.” she laughed lightly and you smiled “I’m about to fall asleep myself, Larissa. I am exhausted.” you giggled and blushed at the thought of what you were just doing with the goddess next to you. You crawled closer and she wrapped her arms tighter around you. “I could stay like this forever, my beautiful girl.” her voice was sleepy, but the words made you melt. You drifted off to sleep, hoping this would be the first of many nights spent in her arms.

#larissa weems #larissa weems x y/n #larissa weems x you #larissa weems smut #larissa weems x reader #wlw #f!reader #principal weems x reader #gwendoline christie #larissa x reader

[mithriil]

Good Morning

Larissa Weems x Reader Fluff

I’ve posted this on Ao3 already, but I wanted to archive it on here as well. Just a small little thing I wrote thinking soft thoughts. 

Link to Ao3

Or read it here under the cut. 

A/N:  First time ever writing anything, but this scene just came up and wouldn't leave me alone. :)

Waking up in a bed that is not your own is usually not a very comforting experience. All the more were you surprised when you woke up and realized you felt at peace, content even, for the first time in a while.

The restlessness of the past weeks had left you exhausted and in its wake now only calm and comfort remained.

Feeling the sun on your skin you turned your head towards its direction, breathing in deeply, relishing in your newfound state of quiet serenity.

"Don't move."

She sat facing you, her back to the large windows through which the warm light of the sun fell, in her hands a well worn leather sketchbook and the ink-pen you had thought lost - you would have to ask her later how exactly she got hold of it.

You heard the scratch of a pen, then a light rustle and the sheets laying on top of you moved just slightly.

Smiling, you opened one of your eyes just slightly.

You could just make out her concentrated brow against the light, eyes focused on the book in her hands, long fingers gripping the leather delicately. Hair still slightly unkempt, so different from its usual pristine updo, a blue silk robe only very loosely hanging onto her pale shoulders.

Angling her head just slightly on her next stroke you could make out the little soft hairs across her cheek and jaw - she must have woken up just shortly before you, her clear face and sleepy gaze gave off a domestisticity that you did not realize you craved so much, the view causing a warmth to spread through your chest.

Suddenly she made a low sound in her throat, more felt than heard, the sensation of her voice dripping warmly down your spine, and looked up into your eyes.

Her warm, calculating gaze lingered on you for a few moments before she raised the hand in which she held the pen towards you.

You closed your eyes slightly and felt two of her fingers on your face in the next moment. Slowly they traversed across your brow, down your cheek, stopping shortly at your lips, finally landing on your chin. She raised your face just so, before removing her hand again, a satisfied sound eminating from deep within her chest.

You released the air you hadnt noticed you were holding.

Keeping your eyes closed you listened to her calm breathing. By the time she spoke once more you were almost asleep again, the warmth of the sun, the smell of her perfume and her that marked the bed as hers lulling you back into the dark arms of sleep.  

"Open your eyes."

Her quiet request brought you back and you hazily opened both eyes, seeing her now sitting beside you on the bed. She was holding up the sketchbook you gifted her on a whim weeks ago, showing you what she had been doing this whole time.

In the top left corner stood "Good Morning" in her neat handwriting. It was you. In sleek black lines she had drawn a scene of pure tranquility. Your hair falling in lazy waves, the sheets not fully drawn up, the contours of your legs and hip visible. Your arm in front of your chest, just so conceiling and teasing with the nudity beneath. A small satisfied smile on your face - you hadn't even noticed that you were smiling the whole time.

Raising your eyes from the page you met her curious gaze, already waiting for your response.

Why was it so hard to find words at this moment? You wanted to thank her, yell at her really, your gratitude for... everything, the evening, her cooking, this morning, the drawing and above all her. All you mustered was a quivering smile with tearful eyes, not quite knowing what to say really, just hoping that she would understand you like she did so many times before.

Her face broke into a gentle smile, her eyes almost glowing in the morning light.

#larissa weems x reader #larissa weems #gwendoline christie #* #i return to tumblr after years of inactivity with this #wild #but hello guys if you're still around lol hope you're all well #fanfiction #f!reader #but really you can read it however you want #i dont really describe anything specific