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#ao3 link in the replies <3
happywitch416 · 6 months
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Food For the Dead
Old Life Festival is upon the province and with it remembering the dead. But when you have a child who is obsessed with that which is spooky, you can find yourself remembering more then just your ancestors. Elena is terrified of the dead but that means little in the face of parenting, especially when the children begin teaming up to do right by even the warriors of the dragon cult.
I am loosely basing Old Life on All Soul's Day which is a bit of artistic license but this is spawned by a very real conversation with my own spooky obsessed child and them wanting to light candles for all the dead because no one should be forgotten. They are a better person then I.
"Mama." Runa flopped on to the bar stool across the sink, waiting patiently for Elena to look up which caused Elena concern. "What are draugr?" 
"Oh. Uh." They tapped the spoon on the side of the skillet, wiggling their bare toes against the cold floor when it didn’t help them think. "Old Nords, ancient ones, but they were warriors of the dragon cults that are bound to serve their masters for eternity." 
"So, they speak Thu'um." 
Elena regarded her carefully; Runa’s brows were furrowed as she stared into a notebook after making a scribbled note. "Aye, some would." 
"So, if one came here you could talk to them?" 
"Little one, why are you worried draugr are going to come to the house?" 
"Lucia said there are draugr in the Halls of the Dead." 
"There are." 
"So, there is a dragon priest beneath the city?" 
Elena set down the spoon harder than they meant. "I would like to think there isn’t but there are many important people buried here. And the oldest catacombs they’ve found are supposedly older than the city. " 
"Potema isn’t even in those then." 
"Aye." Runa nodded hopped down from her chair and disappeared before Elena could say another word. Elena went back to cooking dinner, their brows furrowed, and jaw clenched as they hoped they wouldn’t be kept up all night worrying about draugr knocking on the door. 
It was Lucia who appeared for dinner first much to Elena’s relief, flipping through one of her latest magazines. "Lucia, why is Runa worrying about draugr?" 
Lucia’s pale brows furrowed a moment, chewing on her fingernail before brightening. "We are starting the Old Life Festival stuff at school." 
"Oh." Elena let out a sigh of relief. 
"I let her borrow my books though, they gave her baby stuff." Elena matched her scowl. "Why do some of the teachers treat her like that?"
"Because they think she isn’t capable." They snarled, pouring themselves a glass of water.
"Have they met her?" Lucia stomped her foot indignantly, the magazine in her hands crumbling in her fists. "She’s smarter than all of them, who cares if she doesn’t sit?!" 
"Well." Elena let out a tired chuckle then. "You aren’t wrong but it’s a bit more then not sitting still." 
"She only hits people that deserve it." She sniffed, setting aside the magazine to help Elena get dinner on the table. "I wish I could hit people like she does." 
Elena let out a tired sigh. "Save it until after they won’t call me to fix it okay?" Lucia laughed, ducking away when Elena ruffled her hair. "What’s the new one about? Anything interesting?" 
"Atmoran fashion is coming back into style." She grinned at her mother. "Aunt Oddie said I should dig through your closet to find some originals." 
"Ha ha, Aunt Oddie isn’t funny." She snorted. "And I’ve never been fashionable a day in my life." 
"Some of it would suit you." Lucia declared snagging the magazine to show Elena a picture. The woman was regal with the dark furs draped across her shoulders and shining metal at the clasps. "You already have the braids." 
"True." Elena gently dragged their finger down the figure, eyeing it critically. "I would not be caught dead in that floaty, not skirt thing." 
"Mama." Luci groaned. "It’s a tabard." She tapped her bright pink nail against it. "It’s not a skirt, it’s part of the shirt." 
"I’d still trip over it." Elena sang over their shoulder as they grabbed the macaroni from the stove. 
"It’d have to be shorter, or the hatchlings would get tangled in it." She narrowed her eyes watching her mother carefully. "Your favorite color is forest green, right?" 
"Aye?" Any further questioning was halted by the appearance of Sofie and Runa who were discussing the best offerings to leave for the draugr. "Why are we feeding the undead?" Elena’s heart gave a panicked flutter.
The four of them settled at the table, Runa and Sofie exchanging smiles before Sofie spoke. "Because they shouldn’t be forgotten while we remember the dead." 
Elena couldn’t decide if they were going to die from cuteness or terror because they knew children couldn’t go into the Halls of the Dead without a parent.
Elena Songschild Master List
The Witch Writes Master List
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matchingbatbites · 1 year
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Love Grows - Part 1
This is my take on teen dad Steve! It was just supposed to be a ficlet, but the word count is currently hovering at 4k and I'm not done, so this will be going up in parts. <3
Ao3 | Part 2
February '85
The rumors have been flying for weeks. It only took one cheerleader to see Steve Harrington out and about with a baby and soon enough the news was all over the school. Nevermind that no one else has even seen said baby, but just the one accusation is enough to send the rumor mill into production.
It's something that had piqued Eddie's interest, but he quickly attributed it to teenagers spreading drama, a fiction created for their own entertainment. That is, until the day Harrington shows up to school with the baby.
The halls are buzzing, more so than usual, and it only takes until second period for Eddie to realize why. The entire class breaks into whispers when Steve walks in with a baby carrier in one hand, a piece of paper in the other, and a diaper bag slung over his shoulder. The paper goes to the teacher, who reads it before saying something to Steve, and Eddie is so curious but unable to hear anything over the chatter in the room.
Eddie can’t take his eyes off Steve for the rest of the class. He watches as the carrier finds a home on the floor, right by Steve’s desk, and Eddie has a perfect view of the little, rosy-cheeked baby girl from his seat two rows behind Steve (at least, Eddie’s assuming it’s a girl. The blanket tucked around her is a soft pink, so-). He sees every time Steve leans over to check on her, sees how her big eyes flick up to look at him, how she smiles around the pacifier in her mouth. 
It makes Eddie go all gooey inside; he's always loved kids, always hoped to find a guy who is good with them, and seeing Harrington being so attentive only increases the low-key crush he has on the other guy (he knows it’s a little pathetic, but Steve is very attractive, and Eddie is very gay, sue him). When the class ends, Eddie gathers his stuff slowly so he has an excuse to hang back a little and watch Steve interact with the baby some more, but soon enough the younger is also packed up and out the door.
Eddie doesn't see Steve again until later that day, when he's skipping out on 5th period and hears a baby crying as he passes by a closed classroom door. He peeks in through the window and sees Harrington pacing slowly while holding the baby against his shoulder, one arm supporting her from the bottom as his free hand rubs circles into her back. 
For a moment Eddie thinks about walking on, about just leaving Steve alone as he comforts his wailing child, but the cries pull hard on Eddie's heartstrings and he finds himself opening the door and slipping inside.
"Everything okay?" he asks, and Steve looks up in surprise before his expression shifts into something unreadable. 
"Yeah, we're fine. She's just extra fussy because she's teething. I came in here because I don't want to disturb anyone else." 
Eddie hums and goes to the nearby diaper bag, starts digging through it and is surprised when Steve doesn't tell him to stop. He finds a little bottle of numbing gel and smears some onto his pinky before sliding it into the baby's still wailing mouth, and carefully rubs it over her gums as he coos at her. 
"I know, honey, it hurts so bad. It's gonna be okay, though, just you wait." 
He glances up to see Steve staring at him, his expression curious, and Eddie suddenly feels overexposed. 
"My last neighbor had two jobs and three small kids, so I have a little experience with babies," Eddie explains, needing to fill the sudden silence that falls as the baby calms. His finger is still in her mouth, and he feels no desire to remove it, especially once she starts gnawing on it gently. Steve glances down at his girl before giving Eddie a soft smile, and Eddie's heart flips in his chest. 
"That's more than I have, at least. Thanks." 
"No worries, man. What, uh- what's her name?"
"Rosemary," Steve says, humming when the baby makes a soft noise. "At least, that's what I'm changing it to, as soon as I'm able." 
The warmth that had settled in Eddie's stomach sours a little at Steve's declaration, and as he pulls his finger from the baby's mouth he can't help biting out "And her mom is okay with you changing her name?" 
The atmosphere in the room changes as Steve's face crumbles, and Eddie knows he's said something wrong. 
"Her mom didn't want anything to do with her," Steve replies softly, and oh no, Eddie instantly feels like a piece of shit. He'd heard the rumors that some girl had just dumped the baby on him, but he didn't think they were true. 
"Shit, I'm so sorry, man. I didn't mean to assume anything." 
"It's okay. No one really knows about the whole… situation." 
There's an awkward pause before Eddie asks "So, Rosemary. Your choice wouldn't happen to be inspired by a certain Edison Lighthouse song, would it?" He smiles when Steve blushes, the pink dusting his face so sweetly as he shrugs. 
"It was my grandma's favorite song, and a lot of my happy memories are with her, so... I've already started calling her Rosie, so she'll be used to it." 
"It’s a good name," Eddie hums, rubbing his thumb over Rosie's tiny eyebrow. "She's a cute kid, Harrington."
Steve mutters a soft “Thanks,” and then there’s a brief pause before he asks "Do you- do you want to hold her?" and Eddie doesn't even hesitate before nodding and giving a quick “Yes!”
He takes off his jacket and vest in one go, knowing the fabric is a little rough, and takes the baby when Steve offers her to him. He holds her close, one hand supporting her and the other resting on her back, and starts to sway a little. "I haven't held a baby in like, two years. I forgot how calming it is." Steve hums and smiles as he sits on a nearby desk. “Yeah, it is.”
They spend the rest of the time just talking about whatever comes to mind, and it's really fucking nice. Eddie learns about the gaggle of kids Steve babysits ("They're all shitheads, but I love them, even when they're using me as a chauffeur.") and Eddie talks a little about his own friends, his band ("I mean being famous is the end goal, but it's also just fun to get together and be creative just for the sake of it, you know?") and before they know it, the bell is ringing to signal the end of the period. 
Steve frowns, a cute pout that tugs on the corners of his mouth, and Eddie has to bite back a smile at the expression. He sets a now sleeping Rosie back into her carrier before shrugging on his jacket and vest, and hesitates for a moment. 
"Listen, Harrington. I know that we don't really know each other, but I've seen firsthand how tough this single parent shit can be, so. If you ever need a hand, or need someone to watch her so you can get shit done, you can ask me, yeah? No worry, no judgment."
Steve blinks at him, big hazel eyes flicking between Eddie's like he's making an insight check against Eddie's words. He must like what he finds, because he smiles softly and says "Thanks, Munson."
And Eddie shrugs, and smiles in return. "Call me Eddie, man."
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hussyknee · 1 year
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i'm so confused rn, can you explain the goncharov thing?? i get off tumblr for five minutes
(Edits closed as of 28 Nov.)
Lmaoooo
Nah I getchu. So this post has been circulating for like two years:
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Link to post.
But yesterday, it had inspired someone to do this:
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Link to post.
Next thing I knew there were fake Letterboxed reviews.
Goncharov moodboards. Really good ones.
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Link to post.
Meta analysis. So many fake meta essays. Disturbingly good ones. And of course the memes. (Edit: HAVE I SAID THIS SHIT IS DISTURBING)
As you can see, the myth just started to grow, characters and ships and tropes being added one after the other, almost bizzarely without contradiction, until there was enough of shape to the whole thing for people to start posting fanfic about it on AO3. "No beta we die like ice-pick Joe" is already a tag.
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Link to post.
It was hilarious in the beginning, but the way it's developed within less than a day, kind of like it's being willed into existence, is freaking me out a bit. We're toying with powers beyond our comprehension. 😂😂😂
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Link to post.
Of course, there could be an ulterior motive as well.
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Link to post (tags mine).
Edit: guys, please tag these posts "unreality" so people with disassociation issues can filter them out (not this one, this is an explainer). <3
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Edit 2: Aparently the boots in the original post are actually referring to a movie called Gomorrah that came out in 2008, directed by Mateo Garrone, based on the Scampia Feud. And other people had also been making posts about the fake movie for a while before the poster took off.
found by @thepotch
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Edit 3: Explainer: why did those boots have this movie on them anyway?
Edit 4: Alt text added to all images courtesy of @valentineish ❤️
Edit 5: Turns out tumblr has done this kind of thing before. Nine years in this hell place and I had to have "Squiddles" and penis smp explained in the replies.
Edit 6: This post collects the Lore so far.
Edit 7: Lynda Carter (real one)/ earns more/ Tumblr cred.
Edit 8: Holy shit y'all we have the theme music. With sheet music. And it's on Spotify!
Edit 9: THERE IS A TRAILER WITH THE THEME MUSIC
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I made this post 18 hours after the movie poster went up. Closed edits 27 hours after first posting. So all of the above happened within 45 hours of the movie poster going up.
Edit 10: Google document live-compiling all the lore so far (Day 3)
Edit 11: Masterpost of Goncharov soundtracks (Day 3)
Edit 12: Entertainment news articles covering the Gonch-posting (real) (Contd from yday)
Edit 13: The music from the masterpost all compiled into a 31-minute original score with video edits on YouTube (edit: unfortunately taken down)
Edit 14: Staff's Goncharov art showcase for Tumblr Tuesday
As of closing on Day 3 there are 371 works in the AO3 tag.
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Updating with Day 3 shenanigans I missed yesterday:
Edit 15: Goncharov TV Tropes page
Edit 16: Ethics of Gonchposting
Important PSA 1 (how to reduce harm to Tumblr's neurodivergents)
Important PSA 2 (reality affirmation, anti-bullying)
Important PSA 3 (why you should stop trying to vandalise legit information sites)
Edit 17: Character lore from beezlebub whose poster they originated from
Edit 18: What we know about/ Director Matteo JWHJ0715 (#unreality)
Edit 19: Link to post with screenshotted and described NYT article (scroll down) and this golden exerpt from BuzzFeed: 💀
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End of Day 4 there are now 485 works in the Goncharov tag on AO3
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Didn't get to update this on Day 5, so these are the Day 5 doings:
More trailers!
Trailer 1 (My favourite)
Trailer 2
Trailer 3
Trailer 4
I also just found out about the Goncharov Game Jam.
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It appears this opened a day after after the meme took off.
Goncharov was first entered into Wikipedia between Day 4 and 5 (attempts to vandalise it with fake info don't count, incidentally – please knock that shit off) under List of Internet Phenomena. This was then expanded into its own Wikipedia page at the end of Day 5 because, according to the talk history: "the topic now meets the notability threshold for its own artice due to significant coverage in The New York Times and other sources cited." We're on Wikipedia, people!
And then we made The Guardian half a day later. So while the meme is definitely dying down to embers by now, it still stays winning.
YouTube channels with episodes on the meme:
InformOverlord (4:30)
Lessons in Meme Culture (2:43)
End of Day of 5 there were 511 works on AO3, and End of Day 6 (today) there are 556.
--
🚨BREAKING 🚨 from Martin Scorsese's daughter's TikTok (real actual)
tw: unreality:
We did it you guys!
Clarification: Francesca Scorcese asked her Dad about the meme and Martin played along. Please reblog this PSA to help Tumblr people with psychosis. Thanks.
Final edit: Day 8. Media reactions to Scorcese's TikTok (everyone from Forbes to Vulture). That one Tumblr user who said they'd do a screenplay if their post got notes has promised to shoot a single scene, but please don't be dicks just because you reblogged it; leave them alone until they get around to it themselves. As of end of Day 8 there are 609 works in the AO3 tag. I love all you lunatics. Peace! ❤️
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fangswbenefits · 11 months
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Ao3 . Ko-fi
ASTARION
⤷ Book - Astarion comes across an interesting book and decides to share the knowledge with you. Quite literally.
⤷ The Arrangement (on-going series): masterlist
⤷ Lockpicking - You ask Astarion to teach you how to lockpick and things get... out of hand.
⤷ Pointy Ears - You accidentally find just how sensitive Astarion is when it comes to a certain part of his body…
⤷ Curiosity - Astarion wishes to satisfy his curiosity when it comes to breastfeeding... and comes up with a proposition that is mutually beneficial.
⤷ Oral Fixation - Astarion is quite sure you are going to drive him insane from how adorable and clueless you are when eating those juicy fruits around him... and he just has to do something about it.
⤷ Unexpected - Astarion has barely ever considered starting a family with you in the old-fashioned way, but an unexpected conversation might just trigger that urge.
⤷ Breathe - Astarion is more than eager to show you the perks of not breathing.
⤷ Questions - Your curiosity drives you to ask Astarion a very unexpected question, and he's more than happy to give you a proper reply.
⤷ Patience - You are too eager to ride Astarion, and he proposes a solution to your impatience. After all, experience is the best teacher and impatience its fiercest enemy.
⤷ Backfire - You should have known better than to make Astarion jealous, and now you are left to deal with the consequences.
⤷ Reading Session - Astarion walks in on you reading a rather suggestive book, and far be it from him to interrupt your learning process. 
⤷Trance - Astarion is having a hard time trancing, and you offer to help him out in more ways than one.
⤷ Fever - You're running a fever, and Astarion offers to cool you down… only to make things a whole lot worse.
⤷ Everything - You're used to staying still whenever Astarion feeds on you. This time, he wants you to feel everything.
⤷ Comfortable - Astarion walks in on you in a rather compromising situation. Naturally, he offers to help, but then you ask him to promise you something that he was not expecting…
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(LINKS ARE CURRENTLY NOT WORKING - I'LL FIX THEM SOON 🙏)
MIGUEL O'HARA
✫ 18+:
⤷ Tension - Miguel walks in on you late at night doing something unexpected, which makes things really awkward afterwards…
⤷ For Science - There has been a rumour circulating in regards to Miguel’s venom. It has to be too far-fetched, right?
⤷ Intimacy - Lack of intimacy after childbirth can weigh a relationship down. Thankfully, Miguel always finds new ways to keep the spark alive.
⤷ Perfect Morning - Miguel’s definition of a perfect morning involves a comfortable bed and being buried deep inside you.
⤷ Comfort - Miguel has been having nightmares as of late and seeks a level of comfort only you can provide.
⤷ Breakfast in Bed - Miguel wakes you up to breakfast in bed.
⤷ Stress Relief - Peter B. Parker should know better than to swing by unannounced.
⤷ Sharing is Caring (I) - (II) - A mission has both Miguel and you sharing a room… what could possibly go wrong?
⤷ [COMPLETE] (0) Sweet Girl , (1) Frustration , (2) Suit Up , (3) Obsession , (4) Consequences , (5) Discovery , (6) Double-edged Sword , (7) Confession , (8) Devotion - Miguel’s desire for you has been taking a toll on him, and he really has no other option…
⤷ Second Intentions - You’ve been tense lately, and Miguel offers a massage. Quite thoughtful of him… except you know exactly why.
⤷ Tracking - You find out Miguel has been tracking something that concerns you… and him.
⤷ Gentle - Miguel shows you how gentle he can be during your pregnancy and how worthy you are of it.
⤷ Backfire - The math is simple: you make Miguel jealous + push him past his breaking point = hot rough sex. Too bad Miguel doesn’t do simple.
⤷ Side Effect - Miguel has been acting off lately and you find out why… the hard way.
⤷ Stubborn - As far as you’re concerned, you just want to stay in bed all day, admiring Miguel’s glorious chest.
✫ Fluff/Comedy/Comfort/Hurt/Angst/Misc:
⤷ Memories - You are ready to tell Miguel he is going to be a father… but he isn’t.
⤷ Revelations - Miguel asks you to keep a secret, so naturally everyone is about to find out.
⤷ Solution - Period cramps always leave you feeling miserable, so Miguel offers a solution.
⤷ Tiny Spider - Your daughter has a few questions, and you suspect Miguel might just open a portal to another dimension.
⤷ Another Chance - You go into labour and all you know is that you need Miguel more than ever.
⤷ Broken - You wonder if Miguel is broken beyond repair, because he surely believes that.
⤷ Family - Miguel is a natural when it comes to being a father.
⤷ A Series of Firsts - You and Miguel are ready to become parents and you must now go through a series of firsts together.
⤷ Appreciation - Miguel catches you staring at a very specific part of his body…
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roses-for-rosalyn · 2 months
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Cowboys
Ellie x reader (for now)
Part 2
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summary: A stranger comes to your door- it turns out it's not one of your usual encounters cw: guns, cowboy lingo, fem! reader, cowboy crossdresser Ellie, eventual smut, blood, injuries, your average confusing lesbianism, eventual smut, no use of y/n wc: 3.6k
for those who prefer ao3 <3 gotchu minors DNI (I will steal all you pillowcases)
LINKS TO HELP PALESTINE l DAILY CLICK
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Nothing could beat the beauty of the sunset in the desert. Purples, blues, oranges, and yellows swirled together to paint a new masterpiece every night. And every night you would sit on your small, wooden porch with a cup of tea and watch as the sun slowly sinks into the horizon. Tonight was no exception. 
The sky becomes darker and darker until the moon and the stars come out, bathing the desert in a silver light. You struggle with the stubborn, old front door for a moment before you step into your little ranch house.
A chill runs through you as the temperature outside rapidly declines. You kneel in front of the fireplace and use the little kindling you have for a fire. It was enough to keep you warm for a few hours while you read yourself to sleep. Sometimes you felt lucky that it was a small enough house that the small fire would warm up the whole place. Your bed was just a few paces away from the mantle. 
You stand up and dust off your hands before starting to undress for bed. As you begin to unbutton your bodice a knock sounds from the front door. 
You scramble for your rifle by your bedside and check to make sure it’s loaded. You peek through one of your front windows to catch a glimpse of the mysterious stranger. At this hour and on the edge of town, your visitors weren’t usually friendly. 
It seems a cowboy has paid you a visit this evening. Haven’t seen one of those in a damn long time. A gun is proudly holstered on his hip next to a lasso, and his black large-brimmed hat keeps his face dark enough that you can’t quite make it out. 
He knocks again, louder. You creep up to the front door and slowly open it. Before he can process who opened the door you aim your rifle right at his chest. 
“Hands up.” You demand, your voice is surprisingly steady. 
“Woah there, I just stopped to ask for some directions.” A deep, yet feminine voice replies. It sounds like she was all too sure you weren’t going to be using that weapon on her, she didn’t even bother to move. You cock the gun, trying like hell to keep your expression blank, unphased while your entire body fills with adrenaline. She takes a step back and puts her hands up. Her hat still covers her face in shadow, it’s like confronting a ghost. 
“You should have stopped somewhere else.” You take a step towards her, closing the door behind you while keeping your vision trained on the woman. 
“You’re much different than the other women I’ve run into out here.” She looks up slightly, the moonlight illuminating pink, slightly chapped lips forming a smug smirk. “Where’s your husband, miss?”
“I swear if you don’t get back on your goddamn horse I’ll put a hole right through your chest.” she steps towards you, the muzzle of the gun pokes right under her collarbone. 
She finally looks at you, silver light exposes a sharp, feminine face dotted with freckles darkened by days in the sun. The sight of her face catches you off guard for just enough time, allowing her to grab the barrel of the rifle and pull it right out of your hands. She drops the gun and it clatters loudly to the ground, echoing through the empty desert landscape. She grabs your wrists before you can start fighting back and pins them above your head against the door with one hand. 
“There,” she grunts as you struggle against her grip, she’s surprisingly strong, “now we can have a conversation.” 
“Go to Hell.” You say, seething with rage and frustration because she was able to overpower you so easily. She shakes her head and laughs for a moment, saying something under her breath like all this trouble. 
You were just about to spit in her face when she said, “Where’s the nearest hotel darlin’?” Your eyes widen at the innocent question, slightly embarrassed. This was a first, she really just needed directions. She uses your stunned silence to talk some more, “I’ve been savin’ up so I could have a bed for the night. And I could really really use a bed tonight, miss.” You stop struggling against her grip and she lets go. She still has that stupid smirk on her face. “So if you could point me in the right direction it would be much appreciated.” 
“Head southwest, you’ll hit a trail that will lead you right into town.” You dust off your dress and straighten it out. 
“Much appreciated, darlin’.” She tips her hat and walks off toward her horse. You watch in shock as she mounts her horse and before riding away she says just loud enough, “I’ll be seein’ you.” And with a nod, she was off. 
You slowly bend down to pick up the Winchester, cradling it against your chest as you watch the stranger disappear into the night. As you head inside you wonder if you ever will see that strange woman again, and fall asleep debating whether or not you would want to.
**  **
The next morning you head to the school house. The steady feeling and sound of your horse trotting along the dirt path always forced your mind to wander elsewhere. Right now you couldn’t stop thinking about the woman from last night. The schoolhouse was right in the middle of town, would you see her again? Would she even recognize you? If she did, would she even try to talk to you?
The interaction was a bit embarrassing for you, but to be fair you had your fair share of vile men looking for trouble and hostile groups of Apache knocking on your front door. Your father had taught you how to use his Winchester rifle, the very same rifle you use now, and you mentally thanked him for it every night. You had only used it to kill one man, he wouldn’t take no for an answer and you gave him plenty of warnings. He didn’t believe your threats so now he was buried about 500 feet from the house in an unmarked grave, you were sure no one would miss a man like that. Most of the time the Apache would just come to ask questions about men passing through the area, they never tried to attack you, thankfully, but they would always come at the most ungodly hours and were quite impatient. 
Last night was a first, you had never had a cowboy knock at your door, and then she ended up being a woman. The idea of her was so intriguing and you couldn’t figure out why. For some reason, she shook you more than anyone else had since you lived out here. And you’d seen quite a lot.  
Your thoughts are interrupted as you reach town, the sound of rickety carriages, hooves against the packed dirt road, and the chatter of men in front of the Sheriff’s Office make it hard to focus. 
“Hello there, sunshine!” you hear a male voice call out. You turn towards the voice to see Jesse making his way past you on horseback, lugging today's newspapers to the apothecary. He made the trip from Sante Fe every morning. He was nice enough, you liked talking to him, but not as much as you felt like you should. The ladies at the apothecary, Dina, and Maria, would always encourage you to talk to him. They desperately wanted you to move on from your husband. He was long gone and you knew that, you were even thankful for it, which is why you were nervous to start again. You didn’t want to have to go through anything like that again. 
You wave back and smile, “Hi there, Jesse.” You decide to be polite, “Hear anything good today?” He tightens the reins of his horse and stops right next to you. 
“They struck gold in Elizabethtown, and there’s gonna be a shortage of tobacco ‘round these parts within the week because of a dust storm over in Tennessee.”
“Well, I’m sure they’ll have a panic on their hands pretty soon then. I don’t know a man here who can live without their cigars.” You smile and Jesse laughs politely at your attempt at a joke. 
“Alright, don’t want the kids to show up before I do, I'd best be headin’ to the school.” You yearned to leave this awkward conversation through any means possible. Today was not the day for small talk. 
“Ok, I’ll see you tomorrow then, miss.” Your head snaps towards Jesse. You’re suddenly transported to last night and listening to the way the cowboy’s words would drip from her lips, smooth as honey “Miss”. Calm and sure even with a gun pointed right to her heart. 
You quickly snap out of it and nod politely at Jesse as you begin to part ways. You head to the schoolhouse in a hurry, the kids gave you hell if you were late. 
** **
You’re beginning to lock up the schoolhouse when you hear footsteps approaching. “Well hello there, miss.” You recognize the voice all too quickly, you don’t even need to turn around. “Was really hopin’ I’d find you here.” 
As you fish into your pocket for the key you respond, “And how exactly did you find me here?” you turn around and begin to walk past her toward your horse. She follows you. From a brief glance at her, you can see she wears a bandana to cover her face, you could only see her eyes. “You don’t even know my name.”
“I just asked those nice ladies at the apothecary if they knew the women who lived just outside of town, they were more than happy a “nice gentleman” took interest in you. They told me just about everything they knew, your name, some snippets of gossip. I’m sure if I stayed they would’ve told me your life story” You finally turn to face her, your expression unamused. She took her hat off at some point when she was talking to you, her eyes are green, radiant in the unrelenting desert sunlight. You were almost jealous. She wore a dark blue button-down that sat surprisingly flat against her chest and suspenders. She could pass for a man if she wanted to. “So, I take it you don’t have a husband then?” 
“What’s it to you?” you cross your arms, defensively.
“I was just curious, I asked last night, but you weren’t exactly in a talking mood.” You swear you can make out her smirk under the bandana. 
“No, I haven’t had a husband for quite a while. Is that what you came all the way here to ask me?” She lowers her bandana and steps towards you, backing you into your horse. 
“No, I came to ask a favor.” She hesitates for a moment, “No one here can know that I’m, um, well you know..”
“A woman?” pretty easy to piece together after seeing the bandana. 
“Yea,” She backs away from you a little. Seems like someone is embarrassed to ask a favor. “It’s just easier for me to get things this way and it’s lookin’ like I’ll be staying later than I planned so..” 
“Alright, I won’t say anything.” She opens her mouth to begin to thank you, but you weren’t about to let an opportunity like this pass you by. “But, you owe me a favor then.”
Her excited expression disappeared as quickly as it came, if you weren’t looking you could have missed it, “Um, alright, what do ya need?” 
“You know your little visit last night?” You had been cooking this proposition up all day, hoping she would run into you again. 
“Yes.”
“Well, that happens to me about every other day. I don’t want a husband, but I do need a guard dog of some kind.” You didn’t want a man in your home, but you did want the protection of one, this was the perfect opportunity, almost too perfect. 
“A guard dog?” She seems mildly offended by you comparing her to a dog.
“I’m tired of not being able to sleep because of surprise visitors. And I’ll pay you in two square meals a day, tea, and my homemade moonshine.” She does not look amused. “And I won’t tell anyone you’re a lady.”
“I don’t know-”
“I know you’re almost out of money, I’m sure Tommy is bleeding you dry as an outside visitor. I won’t charge you anything.” Something in her loosens, you can see it.
“So do I sleep on your floor?”
“Or outside if you’d like, makes no difference to me. There’s a fire pit out there for ya” You turn around and mount your horse, eager to get home. “We got a deal?” You reach your hand down towards her. She hesitates before shaking it. 
“I’m Ellie by the way.” You nod
“Alright Ellie, I’ll see you at my house then. I trust you’re familiar with the address” She just nods, slightly shocked. You smile and then head off, the comforting sound of hoofbeats clearing the thoughts in your head. On the way home you tend to just listen to the sounds of the desert. After a day of loud, squealing children it was healing. You’re sure you’d go crazy if you lived in town. 
** **
You had just finished making your evening tea when you heard a knock on your door. For the first time in a long time, you don’t go into fight or flight mode. You open the door with a smile, part of you is surprised she even showed up. Your proposition was a little ridiculous, but that truly shows how desperate you are. 
“Hello there stranger.” You are really pushing it with this attitude, you can tell, but something in you likes it when she gets annoyed. 
“Hi.” She takes off her hat and lowers her bandana, something you’ve observed as a habit of hers, one of respect possibly. “So am I sleepin’ with the rattlesnakes or on your floor?” 
“You get bit by a rattlesnake come to me and I’ll suck the venom out myself. Until then you best set up camp before dark darlin’.” You smile at her sweetly. 
“Figured as much.” She smirks and walks away to set up camp.
“Dinner’ll be ready in 20 minutes. I hope ya like stew.” You call out to her. “Oh, and there’s a spring out back if you need any water!” 
** **
The stew finally thickens up to the way you like it, you pour it into two bowls and quickly slurp up your serving. Didn’t taste amazing, but it was food. 
You open your front door to bring Ellie her food and see that she’s already started a fire, she’s sipping from a silver flask just staring at the flames. 
You approach and wordlessly hand her a bowl of stew and a spoon. She looks up at you “You gonna eat?” 
“No, I- uh already ate.” More like inhaled but she didn’t need to know that. You point at her flask. “What’s in there?” 
“You’re tellin’ me you don’t know what’s in here?” She raises her eyebrows.
“I know it’s liquor, Ellie, I’m just askin’ what kind.” Her confused expression drops.
“Whiskey.” She looks at the flask in her hand, then at you. “Want some?” She clearly did not want to offer it to you. But you sit down next to her and reach your hand out for it. 
“Hand it over.” She hands you the flask. The metal was cool to the touch, almost shocking after the desert heat all day. You take a sip and the liquor burns its way down your throat, and your face scrunches a little. You were used to shooting whiskey, but this was particularly terrible, even worse than your moonshine. “Wow, that’s pretty awful.”
Ellie laughs between bites of stew, “You’re stew isn’t the greatest thing I’ve tasted either.”
“Hey!” You lightly punch her shoulder. She giggles even more. “You’re welcome for the food by the way.” You take another swig of whiskey and then hand the flask back to the cowgirl. 
“Thank you,” she takes the flask, “for the meal.” she hands you her empty bowl. “And a place to stay, even if it’s outside.” 
“We’ll see, maybe you’ll earn your way inside.” You take her bowl and turn to head inside. 
“Is that a challenge?” She calls after you. 
“Maybe.” You call back. 
You step inside and immediately undress for bed, the whiskey making your eyes droop closed. You can barely get your buttons undone before you fall into bed, for the first time in a while, not having to worry about dangerous strangers knocking down your door.  
** **
You wake up to a hasty knock coming from the front door. It’s still dark outside. You weren’t supposed to have to deal with this anymore. You grab your rifle and don’t even bother checking who is at the door simply out of annoyance. Would have bit you in the ass later if it was a surprise visitor. You open the door and cock the rifle. To your astonishment, you open the door to Ellie, holding her side. There’s a dark stain forming under her hands, her face is bloody and bruised. And yet she’s got a smug yet pained smile on her face. “This how you’re always gonna greet me?” 
“Jesus Ellie,” you usher her inside quickly. “What happened?” 
“You got some visitors, a group of Apache men.” She sits down in one of your wooden dining room chairs. You rush over to grab the small medical kit you had managed to fashion over the years. “They wanted to see you in particular, when I told them you weren’t accepting visitors they sort of attacked me. It was one versus six” 
“They don’t trust many people.” You undo Ellie’s suspenders and begin unbuttoning her shirt without even thinking. “Most folks round here shoot first and ask questions later, they don’t have any respect or patience for a stubborn cowboy.” You walk over, grab a candle and some matches, and light it so you can see. “Can’t say I blame them. I am sorry though I’d thought they’d see your gun and back off” 
“That is real optimistic of ya.” You remove her right arm from the sleeve of her shirt. She is wearing some sort of binding around her chest- so that’s how she’s managed to pass for a man. 
“Wow, that’s a big word for you.” You smirk at her as you clean your hands with some moonshine. 
“Really? I’m bleedin’ out and you’re making fun of me?” You press gauze to her wound, she hisses through her teeth. 
“Please, you’re not bleeding out. Shouldn’t even need stitches, just some cleaning and dressing.” You look up at her, you’re not quite sure, but even in the dim candlelight, you could swear she was blushing. You wouldn’t dare mention it when she’s already made herself so vulnerable. 
“Now for the hard part.” You take out a small bottle of vinegar. 
“Alright.” Ellie leans back in the chair, ready for the sting of the vinegar. 
“Here.” You take her left hand and place it on your shoulder. “Squeeze if you need to.” She nods and you take that as your cue to begin. You pour the vinegar on the wound and you watch as her abs contract, her hand squeezes your shoulder, pretty hard, but you know she was trying not to hurt you, even in pain. 
You stand up and gently wrap a few layers of gauze around her mid-section, just in case it starts bleeding again during the night. You were so, so close to her, you could feel the heat radiating from her skin. “You always wear that?” 
“Wear what?”
“The-the bandages, round your chest.” She looks down at them like she almost forgot they were there. Suddenly you realize how personal that question must be. “Sorry, I shouldn’t said anything. You don’t have to answer” 
“No, It’s alright. I don’t mind. Yes, I’ve worn this for a while now, easier to get around when you look like a man.” You nod and finish wrapping the gauze around her and pin it in place. You put a bit of vinegar on a piece of gauze and begin cleaning the cuts on her face. “Oh, you don’t need to do that, miss.”
“Please just let me clean off your face. Were you planning on walkin’ around town tomorrow with dried blood on your cheeks?” She opens her mouth to say something but closes it. She’s quiet as you gently clean her face, you can see every freckle, every scar, her eyes shining in the candlelight. It was odd being this close to her. You had never felt comfortable being this physically close to someone. Her warmth almost invited you in, made you want to press your nose to her neck, run your hands across her skin, feeling along all the freckles and scars, memorizing the spot of each one. you wanted to know her in a way you have never wanted to know anybody else.
“Hey,” a gentle voice grounds you back into reality. “I think my face is clean.” She smiles softly. She was right, at some point, you had gotten her face completely clean, you’re not sure how long she let you drag the cloth across her freckled cheeks before she said something. 
“Yeah, sorry.” You back away and put the blood-soaked gauze in the burn pile. “You should sleep in here. Don’t think anyone else will be coming tonight. I’ll go get your bedroll.” Ellie just nods and you go out to grab her things. 
You hurry back and set up her bedroll on the floor right next to your bed. She makes her way to it and sits down on the floor with a thud, careful to not contort her body in a way that could re-open the wound. She collapses onto the wool blankets. When you’re sure she’s settled you place your rifle back next to your bed and fall into your mattress, knowing you’ll be exhausted tomorrow.
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bg-brainrot · 1 month
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More than Vampiric Charms (Astarion x Tav)
Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav
Series: Fits into Love at First Knife, AO3 link here
Summary: After some banter between Astarion and Jaheira goes too far, you (Tav) take some time to remind Astarion that he is so much more than a pair of fangs.
Tags: POV Second Person, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Fluff, Comfort, Vampire Spawn Astarion, set in Act 3, Astarion is Bad at Feelings, Blood, Blood Drunk, blood as a coping mechanism
A/N: Thank you to everyone who voted for this banter in my last poll! This was a fun one c:
Word count: ~3.2k
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Walking through the streets of Baldur's Gate is always an adventure with your group– a particularly fraught adventure on this day, as Jaheira and Astarion seem hellsbent on trading barbs.
It had started out playfully enough, with a snide remark from Astarion, "Oh that building used to be a delightful little sweets shop about a hundred years ago. Though I suppose the crone would remember that, wouldn’t she?”
Jaheira, used to remarks about her age, often being the one to start them, was ready with a quick quip back, “Was that before or after your hair turned gray? With my old age, I can never remember.”
Astarion visibility bit back a remark about this being his natural hair color when you glared back at both of them. “Could we focus a bit please? You two can reminisce after we’ve seen to this latest bloody basement.”
One trail of blood, a disgusting array of corpses, and a piece of clown later and the two of them were at it again.
“Jaheira,” Astarion had started in a light tone– a clear indicator that he had no intent to focus. “Have you considered taking on the role of Dribbles the clown yourself? The makeup might help cover all those pesky wrinkles.”
The druid had snickered, appreciating the comment, and shot back, “I think you would be better suited to the role, given you are already a fool.”
That time, Karlach had interrupted, “Don’t either of you dare! No one could replace this Baldurian hero.”
“Which is exactly why we’re helping to piece him back together,” you’d confirmed with a nod. “Besides, you’re both cranky enough to make the children weep.”
“Darling!” Astarion had gasped, an offended hand on his chest. “How could you say that about me?”
You’d ignored his question, instead choosing to deposit a quick kiss on his pursed lips. A soft, effective bandaid that left the man with crossed arms and a reluctant smile. 
Moments later, you were ushering the group out of the building and into the city. Insults forgotten, everyone began trudging the familiar path back to the Elfsong to clean up.
Now, along this very path, you hear Jaheira strike up a new conversation with Astarion– one that has your ears perking up, even as you continue to lead the way ahead.
“It seems that you and our leader are closer than ever,” the woman observes, a smile in her voice.
There’s a moment of silence, and you can practically see Astarion’s suspicious expression in your mind’s eye as he assesses the situation. “Yes, you could say that,” he finally replies. “What can I say? I am, after all, quite charming.”
“I am glad it is your non-vampiric charms our friend has fallen for, Astarion.” A short, thoughtful pause follows before she asks, “It is, isn’t it?”
“Of course,” Astarion responds, his voice reaching a comically high pitch– one that almost makes you laugh. You want to hear this conversation more than most though, so not a sound escapes your lips. The vampire scoffs before he continues. "Is it so unbelievable that they would simply like me?"
There’s a clear hesitation as Astarion’s words hang in the air.
You wonder why Jaheira isn’t responding, what her expression must be– but before you can turn around to find out more, Astarion is speaking again.
“If you insist on prying,” he starts, clearing his throat a bit pointedly. “Perhaps you’d care to join us. And see how much we enjoy one another.”
The insinuation in his tone is almost enough to have you spinning around– teasing Karlach or Shadowheart is one thing, but Jaheira? Gods, you can feel the heat rising up your neck– “Why?” Jaheira snaps back. “Do you require some instruction on how the deed is done?”
“I’m sure even I could learn some new tricks from an old veteran such as yourself,” Astarion replies, mirth shining through in his tone.
Wait, is he actually inviting her?
You know you need to stop this conversation before it mortifies you any further. “Stop it, both of you!” you say, turning your head back, trying your best to keep a stern, not-at-all embarrassed expression on your face. “We don’t need the next installment of ‘Love at First Knife’ getting any more convoluted.”
There’s some grumbling from Astarion, an amused smile from Jaheira, and a chortle from Karlach, but otherwise your group makes it back to the Elfsong without tearing each other– or their clothes– apart.
__
That evening, Astarion slips away.
It’s not an unusual occurrence– some days his hunger is harder to ignore than others, on some you hadn’t found nearly enough evil to suck dry. Ultimately, he never wanted to take too much blood from you, so he chooses to forage as he has taken to calling it.
As a result, you think nothing of it at first, settling into bed after dinner with a book propped between your hands. After all, Cazador is dead, and Astarion is more than capable of taking down some of the most fearsome enemies in the city– he should take all the time he needs to himself.
But the hours pass, and Astarion has yet to return. The candles around you begin to dwindle, words begin to swim on a page you haven’t turned in quite some time, and sleep slowly but surely starts to drag your eyelids down.
It has almost claimed you when the door to your shared room at the Elfsong slams shut. You hear groans from around the room as those who were similarly drifting off to bed are shocked awake, everyone expecting yet another unwelcome visitor. You almost don’t have time to react before an armor-clad vampire lands atop of you.
You do react though, instinctively striking at the man with the spine of your book, a loud ‘thwack’ letting you know that your contact was true.
“Oof,” Astarion mutters, now fully splayed across your torso like a stretching cat. “Darling, must you be so violent?”
“Astarion?” you ask, putting down your book, shaking off the beginning throes of sleep as you realize what’s transpired. “Weapons down everyone, it’s Astarion.”
After a few affirmative grumbles from around the room, you turn your attention back to the vampire, “Are you alright? Did you get injured?”
“Mmm,” he murmurs, burying his face in your blanket, and rubbing at the spot where you’d hit him. “Nothing's the matter. Everything is perfectly dandy.”
His words slur though and something seems to be amiss. His movements are fluid, his body weight is completely and utterly relaxed onto you.
Almost as if…
“Are you… drunk?” you haven’t seen him like this since the bear he drank near the grove. When you’d asked him the question then, he’d shrugged it off– but it was certainly the closest to drunk you’d ever seen him.
“Not strictly speaking, no…” he drolls, tilting his head slightly to stare at you with one eye. His cheeks are flushed, a telltale sign of his recent feeding, and his eye is glazed over, its blissful sheen telling you all that you need to know.
“Have a good dinner, did you?” you ask, smiling down at him wearily. You can hardly fault him for indulging, especially after the couple of weeks you’ve had.
He chuckles, his one visible eye crinkling a bit. “Oh yes. A rather large bugbear. Hardly knew what bit him.”
You run a hand through Astarion’s hair, and respond, “Well done, my sweet, bloodthirsty vampire.”
Normally, such sweet words of unabashed ​​flattery would elicit a smile, a laugh, maybe even a kiss– but tonight Astarion freezes under your touch, his eye going wide before he tucks his face back into the bedding.
“Astarion?” you ask, your previous worry about injury now promptly replaced by a worry of a much deeper hurt.
“It’s nothing,” he mutters, voice sounding distant.
You scratch at his scalp, a bit, trying to encourage him back toward you. “Love, you know you’re a terrible liar. What’s wrong?”
He gives a soft, annoyed huff– an endearing, drunken noise were it not for the fact that he seems determined not to look at you. And continue to crush you with the full weight of his body.
“Astarion,” you say again, with a bit more emphasis, shaking his head a little with your next scratch. “If nothing is truly wrong, I will wake up Karlach. You know she would love to see you in this state.” As if to punctuate your point, a snore sounds from a few beds over, where you know the barbarian slumbers.
“Please don’t,” he murmurs, finally turning around to look at you fully.
You’re surprised to see his eyebrows furrowed, his lips turned down in a truly melancholy frown– always an expressive man, it seems that Astarion’s intoxicated demeanor is twice as exaggerated. Cute, you think. But also concerning. “Love,” you whisper, running a hand along his face. “Talk to me.”
Astarion hesitates, his watery eyes wincing as he debates his next words. Those same red eyes show an unexpected amount of vulnerability– all that bugbear blood is keeping his expression open, his entire face a rosy hue. His mouth opens, closes, his body shifts, and he fumbles with the latches on his armor as he thinks. You simply lay there, playing with his curls until he’s ready.
When he finally speaks, his words take you by surprise.
“You don’t just like me because I’m a vampire… do you?”
“What?” you ask, eyebrows raising in disbelief. Surely, you misheard him.
“You know,” he continues, waving a hand about the air. “My vampiric charms. The fangs. The blood sucking. The mysterious allure?”
“Why in the nine hells would you think that?” You reach a hand out to grab his, tugging on it gently to try to get him to sit up.
Astarion’s eyes drift away from you, but he does sit up, legs draping over your stomach. “Just… because of something Jaheira said.”
Oh. The conversation you’d been eavesdropping on.
“Do you mean what she said earlier? On our way back to the Elfsong?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at him.
“Well, yes,” he mutters, still not looking at you. “Though I can’t help but notice you haven’t answered my question…”
“Astarion,” you start, releasing his hand, only to place it on the slightly flushed skin of his cheek. “No, I do not only like you because you’re a vampire.” Your words are firm, leaving no room for misinterpretation.
His eyes meet yours again, and still you can see so much doubt, so much unmitigated fear. “Are you certain? You truly do seem to enjoy it when I bite you.”
“Well, that’s true,” you admit with a small wince. It does feel rather… good when he bites you, it would be a lie to say otherwise and, besides, you’ve told him as much before. “But that’s not why I like you, you fool.”
Astarion’s bottom lip slips into a small pout and he moves away from your hand. “You’re not very convincing, you know? Especially when you call me a fool.”
You scooch out a bit from under him, leaving your legs under his. With all of the severity in the world, you reply, “If it makes you feel better, I’m a fool too.”
“You are?” he asks, curious despite himself– easily falling for your little trap.
“A fool for you.”
The noise that escapes him is half groan, half chuckle, and his mouth pulls into a lopsided little smile that you’re not certain you would have earned were he not a bit blooddrunk. “Gods, how the hells did I fall for you?”
“Now you’re asking the right questions,” you respond with a smirk on your face. When you place a hand on his knee, the smirk turns into a small smile. “But I’m being genuine– I don’t like you because you’re a vampire. And before you ask, I don’t love you because of your vampirism either.”
He gives a small huff. “Well, Jaheira made it sound as if there wasn’t much else to care for.” An uncharacteristic admittance from him– normally he would brush off such a statement with a proud declaration of how phenomenal he is. But it seems that Jaheira’s words cut deep– and that blood has loosened his lips.
“Jaheira, despite all of her many, many years of experience–” you enjoy the full laugh that elicits. “simply doesn’t have my refined taste. There are so many reasons to like you, love. In fact, vampirism doesn’t even make the list.”
“Oh, you’re keeping track, are you?” he asks, folding his arms and body over his legs and smiling up at you.
“Maybe,” you murmur, leaning forward toward him. “Would you like a sampling of reasons?”
The look he gives you then is hopeful, but more than a little dread slips through in his shining red eyes. When he answers, his voice is barely above a whisper. “Only if you mean them.”
This withdrawn, unsure Astarion isn’t a common sight to you, but, like every other facet of the man before you, he’s no less lovable. So you lean forward, placing a kiss on his pale forehead, and say, “I mean them with my whole heart.”
“Then… I suppose I ought to be lavished with them," he murmurs, and you spot the blush intensifying over his cheeks, now also coloring his ears.
Coupled with his fluid, inebriated state, his heart laid bare before you, you want to scream the reasons from the roof of the Elfsong, if only for him to believe you. But, as it is, the soft snores of your companions keep your voice hushed, your face close to his as you begin.
“Let’s see… should I start with the first thing that stood out to me?”
He hums in agreement, and closes his eyes, as if preparing to listen to the sweetest tune known to the entirety of Faerun.
“Well, it started with your first lie, I think,” you start.
Astarion gives a disapproving groan, but doesn’t open his eyes.
“My dear, you said you said you had a ‘brain thing’ cornered– I hope you know the smile on my face wasn’t from confidence,” you say with a new, fond smile at the memory. “I just knew from that moment on, you didn’t much care for what others thought of you, as long as your goals were met. A kindred spirit. Or so you said that day.”
At that, he reopens his eyes. “That’s not true.”
“We’re not kindred spirits?” you ask, an unexpected tinge of hurt blooming in your chest.
“That’s true,” he says, balming the hurt quickly. “It’s not true that I don’t care what others think of me. I do. Well, maybe not everyone.” His eyes dart toward Gale’s bed and you stifle a snicker. “But I certainly care what you think of me.”
You look into his crimson eyes, a bit clearer now than when you began talking– the blood seems to be working its way through his system. His words come from a place of honesty, not a lack of inhibition.
“Then, let me assure you here and now,” you murmur, leaning down to press a kiss to his lips. “I think–” Another quick peck on his lips. “you’re the funniest–” A kiss to his nose. “the most deft–” A brush of lips against his temple. “creative, endearing, brave–” Each word comes with a kiss along his jaw. “man I’ve ever met.”
Astarion’s eyes look at you, his face still for a moment as he considers your words. When he finally speaks, it’s a quiet, choked up question, “Oh, is that it?”
“Would you like me to keep going?” you ask, lips perched just above his eyebrow, ready for another round.
He shakes his head ever so slightly. “No– no need or you’ll be here all night, surely,” he says, posturing as best as he can while still looking at you with fearful eyes. Almost as if your candid praise is simply too much for him to bear.
It may be too much, and you’re not one to push it.
“Very well,” you say, pulling back. “But I didn’t even get to how good you look covered in blood…”
The man gives a light laugh at that, some of his nerves melting before praise he understands– his appearance is a source of comfort, one that brings him back to himself. “Oooh yes, I do look dashing in red, don’t I?” he purrs, a content smile forming on his face.
“That you do,” you assure, with your own warm look. You wish he would accept all praise this easily, but you suppose this is all you can do for now.
So little of what matters to you is his vampirism, his looks… but for a man like Astarion, for whom a kind word felt like a double-edged blade for two centuries? Well, you’re reminded that regardless of how many times you may tell him, whether now when he’s a bit fuzzy around the edges or when you’re in your cups, he may never truly believe you.
No matter, you suppose. I’ll simply keep finding new ways to show him how much I care for him…
“So Jaheira was kidding, right?” Astarion asks, sitting up and finally beginning to remove his leathers.
You nod, moving to help him remove his greaves. “Naturally. I thought you’d been enjoying the conversation, actually.”
“I had been,” he replies, thoughtfully. “But the more I remembered how sinfully you shiver under my fangs…”
He’s dodging before you can so much as flick his ear. “Excuse you. Is that any way to treat your most reliable source of sustenance?”
Astarion smirks as he leans away from you in the bed. “Oh darling, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. After all, you can’t help it.”
“Astarion–”
“Ehem!” You hear from somewhere behind you. It’s followed shortly by Shadowheart’s annoyed voice, “Would the two of you please keep it down? Some of us are trying to rest.”
If by ‘rest’ she means ‘reach the end of her copper novel’, then you suppose she’s right. Either way, you whisper back, “Sorry, I was defending my dignity.”
“What dignity?” she murmurs back. “And in case you’re wondering, you’re both utter fools.”
Oh great, she’d heard everything.
“Shadowheart, were you eavesdropping?” Astarion asks, crawling over you to glare at her from the edge of your bed. He’s half-dressed and still somewhat out of sorts, so you just lean back against the pillows and accept your fate.
“Is it really eavesdropping if I can hear it all clearly?” the cleric says, and you hear her book snap shut. “Besides, Astarion, if you really needed someone to reassure you, you should have asked me.”
“You?” he asks, incredulously. “And why should I ask you?”
“Because,” she starts, and you can hear her wicked smile in her tone. “I can confirm without a shadow of a doubt that there’s no such thing as ‘vampiric charm.’ I’ve never felt less charmed in my entire life.”
You can sense Astarion is just about ready to light Shadowheart’s hair on fire, so you tug him back down from the divide. “Thank you for that clarification, Shadowheart,” you call, biting back a laugh. “And I’m starting to realize none of us really have private conversations, do we?”
“No, we do not,” you hear Gale reply from a few beds away.
With that, Astarion gives an exasperated sigh and the two of you finish removing his armor in silence.  When you’re both finally ready for bed and you whisper to him, “Goodnight.” Shadowheart, Gale, and Wyll all respond, “Goodnight!”
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5ummit · 1 year
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So there's this post with a troubling number of notes going around insisting that "dead dove" is not a genre, it doesn't inherently have anything to do with darkfic, and that the tag could be applied to fics that are "100% fluffy where everyone's having a good time" if they happen to contain some abnormal (though entirely non-problematic) content like an unusual kink. The claim is that "dead dove: do not eat" is simply a "courtesy tag" that means "this is a very specific niche, mind the tags." And that's just... wrong.
I wrote up a whole rebuttal to this post since I can't stand misinformation and frankly OP was being kinda rude and judgey on top of their wrongness. But right after I posted my reply, OP turned off reblogs because, and I quote, “some fuckwad added some dumb shit onto this post and it is no longer educational” (the “fuckwad” being me and the “dumb shit” being proof that they were wrong). A couple people have asked me to make a rebloggable version of my response, which I've decided to do because this isn't the first time I've heard similar claims and I want to help set the record straight. However, I'm not linking the original post on the off chance this gains traction because OP did the right thing by turning off reblogs, preventing it from circulating further, and I don't want them to get hate for being unfortunately misinformed.
For those who don't know the history, "dead dove: do not eat" was originally proposed as a catchall "hydra trash party" alternative label for any fandom to warn that the content of a fic may be considered problematic or potentially upsetting and to read the tags carefully so you know what you're getting into and won't complain later. Specifically, DD:DNE was intended to convey that the Bad Things in the fic would likely be reveled in and not explicitly condemned by the narrative, which some people tend to get up in arms about, hence the need for the extra warning in addition to the tags. Don't believe me? Here's the original proposal (note DD:DNE can be found on a handful of fics dated before 2015 but this is when it really took off and became a Thing).
There are currently around 50,000 fics tagged as "dead dove: do not eat" on AO3 and close to 50% of those also include the rape/noncon warning (which of course is not the only type of "dead dove" but is one of the most popular and most consistently tagged). The normal percentage of noncon fics in any given fandom? Around 1-3%. That's a HUGE disparity. So don't tell me that dead dove is just a general "courtesy tag" and doesn't or shouldn't have dark connotations. Even the context of the original joke on Arrested Development has a dark undertone. Micheal Bluth casually finds an animal carcass in a bag in his refrigerator with the label "do not eat", as if eating it would be any sane person's first thought. The whole situation is kinda fucked up. And this fucked up vibe very much carries over into fandom usage too, as was intended.
The claim that dead dove has nothing to do with the content's genre and could just as easily be used to describe a 100% fluffy fic in which everyone's having a good time is straight up Wrong, or at the very least, severely warping the original meaning. Also, when someone these days says that they like/dislike "dead dove" most people in fandom automatically understand what that means because of the consistency of its usage over the years and the way language evolves. Whether you like it or not, "dead dove" IS a genre now and the term does carry a specific connotation. I do agree that DD:DNE should definitely still be used in conjunction with other tags, when applicable, to be explicit about the exact type of fucked up content you may find, but to say that the term is meaningless on its own is patently false and I'm tired of people who don't know what they're talking about pushing this narrative and causing even more confusion.
You want a generic term that also means "mind the tags" and doesn't have any inherently dark connotations? Just use good ol' "what it says on the tin" instead of trying to force dead dove to be something it's not.
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Hiii
First of all I wanted to thank you for your amazing fics 🤩. They have become a part of my life and I can’t live without them anymore 🥹💖
Secondly, I wanted to ask about a fic if you would consider. 🫶
Price is injured in his thigh and we are a medic. When attending to the wound the tension rises and a little bit of teasing from our part? 😌
Also, Price can’t take us like he wants because of the wound but we can do 69?
Or maybe something more thrilling! I know you are the greatest in ideas and writing! ❤️‍🔥
Thank you a loooot. (*^3^)/~♡
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Do No Harm
After being shot in the leg, Captain Price is put on strict bed rest by his medic: you. When he threatens to break your orders, you decide to use your rank against him.
AO3 Link
TW: female reader, face fucking, hurt/comfort, come play
When the captain got shot, all hell broke loose. Ghost and Gaz retaliated swiftly, and the bomb that Soap rigged to blow the enemy encampment was more than a little overkill. The four of them had shown up back at your makeshift base, sweaty, bloody, and exhausted. 
“What happened?” You asked the tall lieutenant, searching his face as he removed the skull mask, looking for signs as to how serious it was. 
“He took a hit to the thigh. Dead bloody center,” the tall Brit rolled his captain over, the latter of whom let out a torrid string of curses and shouts, nasty enough to make you blush. 
You inspected the wound, but his clothing was in your way. Ripping your scissors out of your chest armor, you set to cutting him out of his trousers, and you tried not to let the panic get the best of you. 
The truth was that you were keeping a secret. You were sleeping with their captain. You and John had broken a series of rules (and furniture) over the past four months, enjoying each other in the most primal, carnal way. Every night that he was on base, he sneaked into your medbay, aching with something other than pain and searching for his cure. 
You knew it was wrong. It was so far beyond protocol that you wouldn’t be surprised if they court martialed you when they found out, but you didn’t care. You were addicted to him. When he was away for too long, you crawled through the hallways and out into the common rooms with a slick problem between your legs. Something only his fat cock and filthy mouth could solve. 
He was terrible with you. Nothing was off-limits. He used you like a toy, and his fervid want was enough to burn you alive. In the darkness, his grasping hands and hot breath scorched your skin, searing across your belly, pinching your nipples, playing in your lips, all for the express purpose of making you come. It was his favorite thing. By the sixth, the seventh, when you were begging him to squeeze his pulsing rod inside of you, pleading in whispered cries for him to fuck you, he would chuckle with a dark joy. Teasing you, calling you his pretty little plaything, reminding you that you were fully at his mercy. 
It was hard to see him like this, but you were good at your job, and luckily, the bullet had gone right into the muscle. No broken femur, no arterial damage. Your predator would live to hunt you another day. 
“I need everybody out. Come back in an hour,” you commanded. 
“Yes, ma’am,” Gaz replied, leading the others out of the clinic to debrief and regroup after a hard night. 
You sliced through his canvas pants, slipping the shears through the fabric to reveal his bare skin. He never wore any underwear, which you were always quick to rib him for. Then, you inspected the wound. They had packed it in the field, and as you removed the dressings, more and more blood pooled out of the hole, obscuring your view. You worked as fast as you could, administering as much anesthetic as you had on hand, knowing that it wasn’t enough. He was doing everything he could not to writhe in pain as you threw stitch after stitch. 
“Jus’ wanted to get me alone, didn’t ya?” He teased you through gritted teeth. His voice was weak, but he was feisty, which was a good sign. 
You smiled down at him, joking around,
“You know it. But, you’re lookin’ a little worse for wear today, Captain. Might have to get my fix somewhere else.”
“Don’t even think about it,” he growled, grabbing the side of the table hard enough to make the metal frame whine when you hit a nerve with your needle, “Another man lays a fuckin’ hand on you, and he’ll wish he hadn’t.” 
“Can’t have you reopening this wound, John. I worked hard on these stitches.”
“How’m I gonna sneak in to see you tonight?” He looked up at you with softer eyes, a youthful gaze on his face. 
You pitied him, winking cheekily, 
“Might just have to keep you here for observation.”
His whole body relaxed then, relieved in a way you hadn’t expected. You had just been kidding around, but his reaction made you change your mind. If he felt better with you in your clinic, you’d add it to the orders. The last thing you needed was your headstrong man limping through the base just for a chance at some action. 
You finished up, cleaning the wound and surrounding skin, wiping down the rest of him as best you could. He was filthy, and the water in your bucket was full of sand by the time you were done. But, he still smelled like the sun and his sweat, and it was enough to make the animal part of your mind practically salver at the idea of how his skin must taste. The saltiness, full of his pheromones… you chastised yourself for even thinking about it. 
He was finally asleep, full of morphine and exhausted from his ordeal. Gaz popped back in, and you told him you’d be keeping their commander overnight. You thought you’d gotten away with your little game, but there was a knowing glint in the sergeant’s eye that told you he knew more than you thought. 
You tried not to stress about it. His men were loyal to him, and you knew they wouldn’t rat you out. But, still. You made a mental note to be more careful in the future. 
Your bedtime routine was short and easy. You slipped into some shorts and one of John’s abandoned tee shirts. Luckily, it looked like everyone else’s tee shirt, so no one was the wiser. You could always say you stole a larger one from the supply room. But, it smelled like him, and you slept like a rock when you wore it. 
You climbed into bed, and before you could even think about going to sleep, the ache between your legs reared its horny head, coaxing you to touch yourself, disguising itself as a tingle, an itch that needed to be scratched. As soon as your fingers pried apart your soft petals, you discovered the truth. You were soaking wet, and your core was hot like molten lead, giving your digits no resistance as you played with yourself, slipping them in and out of your slick folds. 
You heard a noise escape from your throat against your will, and you tried to hold it back, rolling your eyes from the slam of pleasure that rushed to your head. You were dizzy with want, and even though you tried to quiet the sound, you could hear your own wet flesh popping and sluicing with more and more of your precome, preparing you for an encounter you knew you couldn’t have. 
You came quickly, and without much warning, clenching down on nothing, biting your hand to keep from screaming for him. You peeked over your shoulder, and luckily, he hadn’t woken up. You thought about how nice it would feel to have his big body curled against you as you crashed into a deep slumber, the scent of your wet hand and his old shirt mixing together and lulling you to sleep. 
There was no way to tell how much time had passed, but when you woke, it was still dark. Your eyes darted over to the clinic table, and John was… missing?
You sat up with a start only to find him fully naked at the end of your bed, getting ready to crawl in beside you. 
“John!” You hissed, “What are you doing? You can’t be walking around.”
“Gotta have you, love. I’m so hard, it hurts.”
“You were shot in your fucking leg, Jonathan Price. Let me see the dressing.”
“Quit fussin’ over me, girl. C’mere,” he covered you with his body and grabbed your wrists, forcing you to lay beneath him, flat and vulnerable. He set to pulling away your clothes, making quick work of it, sighing raggedly when he felt your naked body beneath his own. 
But, he was in pain. You could see him adjusting and readjusting, trying to figure out how he could fuck you like he wanted to, unable to find a solution. 
“John,” you whispered, feeling his mouth on your neck, “We can’t. You’re going to hurt yourself. Don’t make me order you to stop.”
“I’m your commander,” he breathed, threatening you with his teeth, leaving a bruise on your sensitive skin. 
“Don’t…” you gasped as his fingers found your gooey center, “Don’t confuse your rank for my authority, Captain Price. You’re under my care.”
He glared at you, coming to a pause, leaving his fingers in you to play in your hole, gently pulsing in and out, teasing you just enough to keep you on the edge, 
“You want me to stop? Hm?”
The more he teased you, the more hot slick collected on his hands, sticky and clear, covering his fingers and making him harden with every moment. 
Then, he took a sharp breath in through his nose, and paused, hiding his grimace in the crook of his arm. You canted your hips, removing his hand from you, fed up with his defiance, 
“John, that’s enough. If you make me restitch that wound, I will have to do it without drugs. We’re out of anesthetic.”
“Please, love,” he held you close to him, letting you feel his hard length as it rolled against your tummy, making a trail of precome across your skin, “I need you. I’ve missed you so bad. Lemme fuck you. Put my cock in you.”
“Hold on,” you shifted your body so that he would turn on his side. Then, you lay opposite him, your head laying at the foot of the bed, bringing you face to face with his swollen, hungry cock. 
In this position, you could suck him off, and he wouldn’t need to use his thigh. 
You licked your lips, trailing them across his cockhead, collecting his salty pearls of pleasure and wearing them like gloss, suckling from his tip as softly as you could just to taunt him further. 
“Ahhh, fuck…” His sigh was delicious. All of that pain and all of the stress that had made him so tense rushed out of him, making his skin pebble with bliss. 
Without hesitation, John bent his head, pulling your hips to his open mouth, and wrapping your leg under his arm, eating your pussy and groaning with a lurid, feral pleasure. 
The feeling of his soft lips and scruffy beard against your sensitive skin flung you into a spiral of pleasure. You could feel his warm tongue prodding and exploring through you, greedily splitting you to get to your hot, honeyed center. 
You wanted more of his taste, so you went to work, stretching your jaw to accommodate his girth, taking him deeper into your throat, using your tongue to trace a wet circle around his head when you needed to catch your breath, teasing him just beneath his foreskin. When you did, his cock throbbed for you, egging you on, eager to drip its load into your mouth. 
“Fuckin’ hell, love. Gonna make me come,” he threatened. 
Suddenly, you felt his fingers dip back inside of you. He was aggressive with his fondling, shoving two of his thick digits deep inside of you, curling them cruelly to press upon your most pliant, responsive spot. 
As he fucked you with his hand, he let his tongue lap against your clit, making you whine around his dick, muffled by his shaft. You felt his hips begin to thrust forward and back, desperately fucking your throat, getting closer and closer to releasing his orgasm inside of you. 
You couldn’t wait to taste him. You wanted him to use you. You didn’t want to hurt him, but the truth was — as hungry as he was for your body — you needed him just as badly. 
You felt your body begin to tense, and you knew it wouldn’t be long before he would have you coming on his hands. He kept his pace, knowing your favorite rhythm, humming to himself as he devoured you, sucking up every drop of your wetness as if he’d never drink from your tight font again. 
Your toes curled, your legs tried to close in on themselves, stopped by his body trapped between them, and something snapped inside of your core, letting loose spiraling sparks of pleasure, breaking you apart over and over, only for each gentle lick from his tongue to put you back together. 
“Mmhm,” he praised you, “Good girl. Just like that. Rub your come on my mouth.”
You did as you were told, no longer in the driver’s seat when it came to your body, fully trained to submit to his will. You shamelessly smeared your pussy across his bearded jaw, humping lewdly against him, all for him to whisper gratefully between licks, 
“Yes, more. More. Give it to me. Fuck my mouth, love. Fuck, I love it. Fuck…”
All the while, he was thrusting into your mouth, deeper and deeper, choking you on his hardness. But, you let him. You allowed him to use you, holding onto his hips for dear life, breathing in every gap that he left, gasping for air, feeling yourself getting dizzy. 
“Are you ready for me?” He groaned, peering down at you between your bodies.
You moaned something you hoped sounded like a yes, and he turned his full attention towards you. You felt his fingers leave your pussy, only to wrap themselves through your hair, sticky and messy, making a strong, merciless grip at the base of your skull. 
He fucked you in earnest, then. It was gratifying to hear his satisfied grunts, and as you felt his cock swell even more, you knew he was about to come. Your mind wanted air, but your body wanted his load. You wanted to feel it slip into your  throat, hot and milky, pouring down your neck like a salacious prize. 
Finally, he went stock-still, and the only thing that moved was his cock. It throbbed inside of you, shooting rope after rope of heavy come down your tongue, painting your mouth white. 
He removed himself from you as quick as he could, pulling your head back up to your pillow, bringing you face to face with him, whispering in an animalistic tone, 
“Lemme see it, pretty girl. Open up. Let me… ahh, yes. That’s it.”
He dipped his finger into your mouth, gathering up his own orgasm onto the tip, smearing it around your lips like he was putting on your makeup. 
You were panting, gasping in the air you so desperately needed, and you tried not to swallow, gathering up as much of his foaming fluid on your tongue as you could, sticking it out for him, showing him what a good girl you could be. 
He took more of it onto his hand and dipped down between your legs, painting your swollen folds with his spend, mixing your come together like some ritual. 
You couldn’t help but whimper. You were overstimulated and raw, and he shushed you, bringing his hand back up to play with your soft nipples, 
“Shh, it’s okay, love. It’s okay. Kiss me.”
You felt his mouth crash into yours, and your own heady taste invaded your senses, folding in with his, making your body roll itself against him, begging him for more. 
“Leg already feels better. C’mon, love. Give us the go ahead, hm?”
“I will tie you to this bed, John Price. Don’t test me,” you looked up at him before laying your head on his furry chest, breathing when he breathed, watching his hairy belly rise and fall. 
“Promise?” He chuckled, pulling you closer and holding you there all night, unwilling to compromise, claiming you in every way he knew how. You dozed against him, sated and happy, wondering how long you could keep a secret this good. 
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Sorry for the wait! Work is hellish right now, but as soon as this semester is over with, I'll be posting more. Thanks for letting me know your thoughts.
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notjustjavierpena · 4 months
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4.0
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Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost
A/N: Aaaand Operation 4.0 has started.
Summary: Your cycle-app tells you that your ovulation is peaking at three in the morning.
Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader/You (No y/n)
Tags: +18, domestic bliss, the Peñas are trying for a baby, implied miscarriage in the past, piv sex, clit stim, breeding kink, dirty talk, praise kink, creampie of course
Word count: 1.9k
Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53019580
4.0
Your phone lights up with a sharp blue light in the dark room. Along with the assault on your eyes, it brings along with it a pinging sound going off loud enough to wake you as if it were the noise of the baby monitor. You reach for the phone on the bedside table, unplugging the charger to check the notification in case it is anything important at this ungodly hour of the night. Besides you, Javier continues snoring without registering even the slightest disturbance. 
The screen lights up once more as you press it, making you squint with a huff as you read the text on your lock screen. You groan ever so slightly; it is your pregnancy app and it is telling you to try for a baby right now.
‘Feeling frisky? Your ovulation is peaking right now!’ it says, and behind the notification, you spot that it is 3:18 am. You suppose that some people are really that dedicated, and as you read the text once more, you wonder if you and your husband are those people. 
It is in the middle of January. You started trying for a baby around Christmas, and you immediately downloaded the app for an extra helping hand in keeping up with your cycle; it has not been the easiest to conceive in the past when you’ve intentionally meant to do it. Getting pregnant with Lucas was a process filled with tears, frustration, and anger whenever you took a pregnancy test and it only showed a single line. Inés was a different story altogether as it was also filled with grief from a horrifying night at the hospital and a shattering thought that there might have been four already at this point. 
Perhaps you should take your phone seriously. 
With a yawn, you put it down again and turn around to nudge Javier. He doesn’t wake up until you shake him gently, following it up by a loud whisper, “Javi.”
“Jesus Christ, what?” Javier groans, eyes not even open.
“It’s baby time,” you say with a tired voice.
“Now? Fuck, what time is it?” He turns onto his side to face you. 
“It’s twenty minutes past three,” you reply and reach down to slip out of your underwear. You fight the urge to fall asleep again, “Pants off, Peña. It’s now.”
“Ever the romantic…” He chuckles, eyes long slits from fighting to stay open. Yet he still manages to take a bit of control of the situation (if he hadn’t, you had probably offered to ride him), bending one of his legs to allow himself to come closer to you, “Turn away from me.”
You do as you are told, facing away from your husband and scooting back until your ass aligns with his crotch. You look over your shoulder in anticipation, desire slowly pooling in your belly despite the lack of spontaneity and adventure in somewhat planned sex. 
Javier sighs the same kind of sigh that he makes when you finally touch him but instead, it’s his own hand wrapping around his soft cock after pulling the waistband of his briefs to sit underneath his balls. 
You hear him stroke himself in the dark, letting out a breath when it starts working and he feels the first stirrings of pleasure. He is hard not long after, and you find yourself wet from hearing him fist his own cock for you. 
The blunt head presses against your cunt a moment later and makes you moan quietly at the intrusion. You rest one arm in front of you, bending your elbow to rest your hand under your cheek and grip the edge of the double bed with the other. 
Slowly, Javier enters you and moans behind you as well. He spoons you the same way as you sometimes sleep, and when he is deep enough inside of you so you are chest to chest, front of his thighs against the back of yours, he starts rolling his hips until you can’t help but make a noise.
The arm that he isn’t lying on slips around your waist and his hand splays over your loose t-shirt. He gropes you lazily, kneading one of your breasts as you slowly fuck in the darkness. Soon, you hear the squelch of your cunt mix with your deep breaths. 
“You like this, mi amor (my love)?” He makes a groggy attempt at dirty talking. 
“Mm-hm,” you whimper, mouth falling open in a silent groan when he hits something inside of you just right. Your eyes shut, a little line forming between your brows as he works his cock into you over and over whilst pinching and pulling at your nipple. 
When he does it again, you clench around him, and his breath hitches. He wants more of that, the hand on your chest sliding down over your waist to finally rest on the back of your thigh. He pushes gently and you take the hint to bend your top leg as far up towards your chest as it can go. Then he uses a little effort to dig between your thighs and rest his hand over where you are connected.
“Yes, yes, yes,” you nod repeatedly without him being able to see. The bliss on your face as he presses two fingers down on your clit can be heard in the sound you make. He thrusts a little harder, rubs your clit like he knows how much you love. Underneath you, the bed shakes. 
“My girl,” he says affectionately and you cry out for the first time because he sets off a string of flutters in your womb with his fingers on your pulsing clit. Is it possible that he fucks you better because he is so tired, mind going on autopilot and leading him back to his basic instincts? 
When you let out another cry, the hand that isn’t between your legs goes underneath your jaw and cheek until he can cover your mouth from behind. He successfully holds in your next very vocal approval of what he is doing. 
“You take my cock so well,” he says lazily, grinding harshly into you until you sob into his hand from how much your pussy throbs, “Good fucking girl.”
“More,” you beg desperately despite being muffled. Javier hears you though and knows what you want from having heard you babble into his hand so many times. It’s like knowing a secret language of yours. 
The springs in your mattress creak. Javier relents his continuous touch to your clit to settle his hand on the back of your knee. He lifts your leg and fucks roughly into you, balls slapping against you from behind. 
The new position makes him able to push against your g-spot, cockhead nudging at your front wall each time he pushes determinedly into you. With how horny you are due to the excitement of him getting you pregnant, you think you might just be able to come untouched. 
Still, he slides his hand down to wrap his fingers around your ankle, yanking until you lock your leg behind his thigh. It gives him the option of reaching down between your legs again, thumbing repeatedly at your clit until he starts getting you towards orgasm.
His lips connect with your shoulder, kissing your sweat-slicked skin as he rubs you off. You can do nothing but take it, overwhelmed by him filling you up again and again whilst making your cunt tighten around him as you get closer and closer. It is hard to determine where you end and he begins when you are together like this.
“God, you are going to come, aren’t you, baby?” He whispers with ragged breath, “Can feel this pussy trying to show me who is boss. God, she’s tightening real good around me.”
Briefly, you twist your neck so you can, somewhat, look back at him. He lifts his hand from your mouth to kiss you deeply, swallowing down your moans that are climbing in pitch. 
You feel like you might be steaming by now, your heartbeat nearly making you dizzy and your lower abdomen twitching. He has you so close, so fucking close that you want to cry and so close that—
Your whole lower body snaps like a pulled elastic band. You cannot continue kissing your husband, turning your head to look forward as you start crying out and shaking whilst your pussy comes so hard that you can hear wetness making Javier’s cock sound obscene inside of you.
He quickly clamps his hand down on your mouth again, letting you practically scream against it whilst your body won’t stop sending pleasure out from your twitching clit.
“Shh,” he shushes you with just a hint of teasing condescending tone as you try to come down from your intense high. However, with the way that he continues fucking you, it becomes hard not to make a sound like wounded animal into his palm, “Don’t cry, Momma. I’ll fuck my baby into you, I’ll give you a baby and you will never forget that I came inside your wet cunt, made you all sticky for me. Is that what my girl wants?”
You whine in approval of his plan, relishing in your oversensitive pussy squeezing around him as if to pull his come from him, and reaching with your outstretched arm to peel his hand from your mouth, “Yes, fuck— baby, please. Put a baby in me.”
With that, Javier retracts his arm underneath you to grab your lifted leg with both hands. He digs his fingertips into your plump flesh, using your thigh for leverage so he can move inside of you whilst simultaneously dragging you down on his cock repeatedly. He radiates heat and desperation, tired body having been possessed by newfound strength to meet his own destination, the whole purpose of this. 
His hips start to stutter as he comes, (hopefully) fucking a baby into you. There’s a sharp intake of breath and then warmth fills up your ripe cunt, his seed planting itself as deep inside of you as he can manage. He holds your thigh harshly, making you unable to move, and groans with each pulse of his dick inside of you. 
He stays like that until he starts to soften. You make a sound in unison when his length starts to slip out of you, and without saying a word, he helps you onto your back again so he can kiss you longingly. You cup his face and tell you how much you love him. 
“Pillow,” he reminds you when you need air fairly quickly after kissing him. You are exhausted. 
“Right,” you yawn and automatically lift your legs. Javier stuffs one of the decoration pillows underneath your knees, essentially making it as hard as possible for his come to leave you, “I think that was the one. It can’t not have been.”
“We’ll have to leave you like that to make sure,” he sounds exhausted too, “I’ll take the kids tomorrow.”
“Really?” You close your eyes.
“We could also drop all of them off at Pop’s,” he jokes, “And make babies until we aren’t in doubt about its success.”
You chuckle, “We’ll see.”
In the quiet dark, you hear him wipe himself down with wet wipes from his nightstand, hissing once from oversensitivity, and then not long after, you hear snoring again. 
Next month, you’ll take a pregnancy test and you’ll see two red lines.
.
.
.
FOLLOW @notjustjavierpena-fics AND TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS 💖❤️💖❤️
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myfictionaldreams · 2 years
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Day 3: Double Penetration - Steve/Bucky
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Kinktober Day 3: Double Pentration -  Steve/Bucky x f!reader
Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, hatefucking, threesome, nicknames, size difference, choking, lots of swearing, discussion of masturbation, oral (m and f receiving), multiple orgasms, piv sex, anal sex, anal fingering, cum swallowing no use of y/n
my main masterlist 📚 // kinktober masterlist😈 // AO3 Link 
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You couldn’t get away from them quick enough, feet aching with each stomp as you exited the quinjet into the Avengers tower.
Tony was waiting at the entryway, “good mission then?” he smirked, having already listened to the argument on the comms between you and the two assholes and Tony being a smug prick rushed to welcome you back to the building. He had also been the other option to go on the mission but nope, you had to draw the short straw and endure the suffering of the two super soldiers.
It wasn’t like you attended these missions in a foul mood, prepared to argue, you were always keen to follow the instructions given by Fury. However, like usual, the two men had nearly caused you to be compromised thanks to Steve’s superiority complex, putting himself directly into the middle of the action instead of following the stealth instructions. This meant that you spent more time fighting off people than trying to save the captors and by the time you were aiding them out of the hell hole they were being kept in, you were shattered and bruised. Especially as you were not able to heal as quickly as the other two, it wasn’t as simple as having a drink and walking it off before continuing with the action.
This led to a shouting match on the journey home, with Bucky backing up Steve’s actions leaving you 2 vs 1 as per usual. You were fed up following them around, nearly getting killed AGAIN because of their stupid decisions, you weren’t going to let them get away with it for much longer.
Dropping your bag onto the floor beside Tony, you huffed irritated, “I’m never going on another mission with those assholes ever again Stark, keep them out of my way”. Your feet couldn’t walk you quick enough as you rushed to the tower elevator, not stopping to listen to whatever shit Steve and Bucky had to say, relief easing your muscles as the doors finally closed and you were alone.
It was hours later when you were finally in bed, having showered, applied cream to the forming bruises on your arms and legs and had some shitty film on in the background.
Just as your eyes were dropping with exhaustion, did a firm knock sound at your door. Your heart plummeted in your chest, not having any energy to have a discussion with anyone right now.  “Yes? What do you want?” you asked dryly.
No one answered which only caused you to roll your eyes and release another exasperated sigh as you heaved your body from the bed, once again stomping to show your displeasure and hastily swinging the door open.
“Oh for fucks sake, what do you both want? I thought we agreed to debrief tomorrow?” Stood before you were the two men you least wanted to see in the world. Gone were their expensive superhero suits and instead replaced with matching grey SHIELD t-shirts that hug their muscles, along with some dark grey joggers, hair slightly damp from recent showers.
Bucky was the one to respond, chuckling deeply and rolling his shoulders to relieve the tension and displaying his obvious annoyance. “It’s not the debrief Doll, that’s not why we’re here”.
Moving your weight from one foot to another, folding your arms sternly across your chest as you moved, glancing between the two men you replied, “well, what the fuck do you want, I was just about to get some well-deserved sleep”.
Steve now inched forward, standing to his full height, making your neck strain back further to look him in the eye, “let us in, this isn’t a conversation for the corridor”.
For some reason his words sent a panic through your thoughts, he never spoke to you in that calm tone, maybe something had truly gone wrong in the mission and needed discussing.
Contemplating it for a moment and glancing behind you to check your room and to see it in an organised manner, you moved to the side, holding the door open further for them both to enter.
Steve and Bucky stepped in and you noticed the way both of their eyes flicked to every inch of your room, assessing it, even this pissed you off, it was your safe space they should stop being so nosey but you refrained from sighing again as you shut the door, turning to face them, leaning into the wood.
“Well? What is it then?”
Neither answered immediately, both still walking around the room slowly.
Bucky spoke first, but not about why he was here, “I didn’t have you as a book reader” he mumbled, hand skimming over the book you’d left open at your desk.
This time you couldn’t hold back the sigh and rolling of your eyes for what felt like the 100th time that day, “so you’ve come to my room to talk about books?”
Steve turned to you now, pointing in your direction, “there you go again, sighing like being in our presence really is some horrific burden”.
“I mean it is, I’ve not exactly kept this a secret, Rogers” you retorted, walking further into the room.
Bucky shook his head in a condescending manner. “You’ve got a real mouth on you, you know that Doll?” 
Snapping your head towards Bucky you couldn’t help the aggressive tone as you snapped, “I’ve asked you to stop calling me Doll, I’m not one of your stupid dames from the 1920s”.
Neither men responded, instead, they looked towards one another, still wandering slowly around the room before Steve settled on the edge of the bed, a sight you never thought you would see and one that you weren’t sure how to feel about, it sent a sort of thrill through you but you shook it off as he began talking.
“You know, Stark mentioned something to us after you stomped off like a child”.
You scoffed, “fuck off Rogers-”
“Let me finish. He mentioned something that we initially shrugged off, in fact, it sort of repulsed us at first but the more we thought about it, the more it started to make sense”.
Steve left you pondering on his statement, “well? What did Stark suggest?”
You watched as Steve stood, taking strong steps towards you, distracting you from Bucky as he too stepped closer from behind. It wasn’t until they stood only a step away that you became a little apprehensive, neck once again straining to look up at the blonde.
“He suggested that we all needed a god, hard, fuck to get over whatever tension there is between us”.
You laughed. Hard. Like really belly laughed until tears were dripping from the corner of your eyes. You had also expected both of them to laugh as well at the ridiculous notion that had been presented to you but they both were watching you with hard expressions. “Wait, you aren’t joking? You can’t be fucking serious, do you really think I want to touch either of you? What a joke.”
Bucky’s cool metal hand was quick as he cupped your throat, cutting off your laughter, his grip hard enough to have you struggling against him but still be able to suck in small breaths. “What the fuck are you doing Barnes?”
Steve began tutting, “No, here’s the thing, you are going to listen to us for once”, he raised his hand to grip your cheeks so that your mouth smushed together so you reached up to hold onto his thick wrist, hoping to ease the grip he had but of course, he didn’t budge. It also didn’t help the situation that you were dressed for bed in only an oversized t-shirt and underwear.
“You have been a pain in our sides since you joined the team, but, we won’t take away that you are an asset on these missions but that doesn’t explain the reason as to why you decided to fight us tooth and nail with every single fucking thing that we do”.
Steve took a breath to calm himself before continuing, “now when Stark said his stupid idea we both brushed him off, but then we thought about it more and more. The way the tension was always thick in the air when the three of us are together, the way my cock twitches in the shower when I think about you in that uniform of yours. We all clearly just need to get things off of our chest or at least…get each other off”.
His lips smirked up as you contemplated this. But surely they couldn’t be serious right? This had to be some big practical joke… but then again, you couldn’t deny the initial attraction that you had when you’d first seen them. I mean, who wouldn’t be attracted to Captain fucking America and the Winter Soldier? They were tall, handsome, incredibly strong, you couldn’t help the schoolgirl crush the first time you’d been introduced to them.
However, after spending more time with them and seeing their arrogance and self-righteousness attitude, you’d ignored that impulse that had struck through you. So no, there was no way that you were actually contemplating this, he had to be making this up.
You were about to try and shove him off again but as your eyes dropped low, you could see the very prominent and remarkably sizeable shape that had formed in his joggers, maybe that serum did more than grow them in height and strength.
Steve caught you staring at his erection, glancing wickedly up to Bucky behind you as he stepped closer, both of their bodies now touching yours so that you could now feel Bucky’s firm rod being prodded into your lower back.
Ok so they were both definitely into this and your mind was racing, images flashing through your mind as to the potential of whatever it was that they were asking for, and your body betrayed your strong willpower as arousal hummed through and in between your legs, causing you to rub your thighs together to ease the tension.
The blonde noticed, his eyes lowering to watch before glazing back towards your face with half-lidded eyes, his pupils widely dilated with arousal.
Pushing on his wrist that was still firmly gripping your cheeks, he let go as you tried to speak with confidence, “fine, if we do this, it doesn’t mean that I’ll stop hating you guys because I still fucking do, but I’ll do whatever it is that you want to do”.
Steve didn’t seem convinced, “not quite what we were hoping to hear. It’s not just what we want to do, I need you to say it’s what you want as well, otherwise, we’re walking straight out of here and not returning and you can continue to think about us whilst in the shower, rubbing between your legs, shouting our names like our super soldier serum can’t hear between floors at just what you do after a mission”.
Your cheeks were burning hot, it had only been a few occasions that you’d done this, you just felt so wound up that you needed to relieve the tension and they both just happened to be the first people you thought of whilst masturbating.
“Fine Rogers, I want this ok? So hurry up and fuck me so I can kick you both out of my room”.
Steve chuckled darkly, squaring his shoulders as he looked above your head towards Bucky and gave a quick nod in his direction.
Bucky’s metal arm finally released your neck, allowing you to take a deep breath in for only a second before you were having his hands grip your thighs, lifting you up until you were folded up against Bucky’s chest, legs now spread in his grip. Scared that you might fall, you reached behind to grip the back of Bucky's head, pulling on his shoulder-length hair.
Steve took a step back, admiring the view before him, and without wasting another moment, he gripped your underwear in two places and effortlessly ripped them in half, chucking the offending material somewhere over his shoulder, now leaving you completely exposed to him.
“Even though you are the fucking bane of my life, I’ve always wanted to do this”, his voice was dark and gruff as he spoke, face inching forward before finally pouncing onto your moistening cunt. Your shout for euphoria made your ears ring from the volume but you couldn’t help it as he didn’t hold back at all, eating you out like a man starved.
His tongue delved deep between your folds, making sure not to miss a single nerve ending, spending specific time to push it into your eager hole, loving how he knew the exact spot to flick his tongue to have your head falling back against Bucky’s shoulder. He then spent time concentrating on your clit, kneading it with his tongue, rotating in circles, sucking it into his mouth, everything so deliciously pleasurably that you were pulling Bucky’s hair harsher, shout out as it all came crashing down, the waves of pleasure pulsing through you.
Steve released your clit slowly, looking up at you with hungry eyes as you tried to regain your breathing, the man definitely knew what he was doing with his tongue that's for sure. Tapping on Bucky’s head, he understand that you wanted to be put down, slowly easing you to your feet.
“My turn”, you seductively whispered, dropping to your knees, ignoring the pinch of pain from the bruises that were on your knees from the mission as you looked up expectedly, mouth wide open and ready.
Both men eased their cocks out of their joggers, leaving the material halfway down their delicious thighs, hands tossing themselves off as they down at you.
“You don’t understand how long I’ve wanted to see you on your knees like this” Bucky explained as he directed you to his cock, pointing it in your face. You were mesmerised by the sheer size of them both, thick and long, it had your mouth watering and also cunt pulsing in anticipation.
Reaching forward you gripped the base of Bucky, making sure to hold his eye contact as you licked along the underside of his cock, wetting it before sucking on his tip and enjoying the way he sucked in a breath at the sensation.
You were only able to take half of his cock to the back of your throat before you were gagging, so you made sure to bob your head, hollowing your cheeks as you moved up, enjoying the salty taste of him. Reaching out with your hand, you gripped onto Steve’s cock, not wanting him to feel lonely as you were able to suck off Bucky and toss off Steve at the same time, loving the sensation of having two of the world's biggest heroes in front of you, falling apart as you used your body.
As tears started to form in your eyes due to gagging over Bucky’s length, you pulled off and started to suck Steve’s cock, alternating between both men’s cock with your mouth or hand. The duo were groaning, hands on the back of your head to hold you there causing strings of saliva to dribble down your chin, mixing with the tears that were flowing down your face from the stimulations
As you tried to take Steve as far as you could into your mouth, the other hand gripping onto Bucky’s member so that it tensed, Steve finally tapped your cheek. Pulling off him, he signalled for you to stand but your knees were wobbly from being in that position so he effectively picked you up, your legs wrapped around his waist as he carried you to the bed.
He placed you in the centre of your unmade bed, pulling off his clothes to match Bucky who had already stripped off. As they stood there watching you lean up on your forearms to inspect their every move, Steve asked, “who do you want first, me or Bucky?”
Smirking up at them, you responded, “why do I have to only pick one when I could have you both”. With that you turned on the bed, lying face first and lifted your arse into the air, presenting yourself to the two of them.
Bucky whistled at the sight, “you really think you can take us both?”
“Oh I know I can take you both, now hurry up and fuck me already”.
Bucky chuckled, “always so demanding Doll”, he knelt on the edge of the bed, pulling your leg back causing you to slide and then turning you so you were once more on your back. Looking down at you with an eyebrow raised he asked in a deepened voice, “What? Not going to chastise me for calling you Doll?”
Scoffing you refrained from rolling your eyes, “there's no way I’m having a go at you right now, not when you stand in the way of providing me with orgasms, Barnes”.
“Hmm”, he leaned over you, forearms resting on either side of your head, his mouth close to yours that you thought he might kiss you but he didn’t, instead he shifted his hips closer. “See, I think you secretly love that name, shall we test that theory?”
“What are you-”
Your words became caught in your throat as he began thrusting into your cunt, slowly and tentatively as to not hurt you, doing a good job at really stretching you out, feeling as if you were nearly at your max already but he kept going and going until finally he brushed against your cervix.
“Fuck” you cursed loudly, eyes rolling back now for a completely different reaction as he allowed your time to adjust until finally, his voice snapped you out of the blissful state.
“So how are you feeling… Doll?” Your pussy squeezed around his cock at the nickname, revealing another one of your well-kept secrets that you did, in fact, enjoy him calling you that name.
Bucky’s face was alight with amusement, loving that he had discovered this about you, “I had the suspicion that the name was turning you on, is that why you so desperately fought us to not call you that, was it because you were becoming aroused?”
“Fuck you, Barnes”.
“Actually, I think it’s more fuck you, Doll” he eased his cock out before sliding back in again. Bucky’s hips snapped into yours, starting off slow before building momentum, your cunt clinging to his cock desperately with each thrust.
It turned you on further to think that Steve was standing just beside Bucky watching you being fucked and with the hyperstimulation of his girthy cock and the fact that this was even happening, your orgasm came on quickly and suddenly. You only just had time to warn Barnes that you were cuming, hands grabbing onto his back as your cunt convulsed around him, squeezing him thoroughly.
Not giving you any time to come down from your high, the brunette whilst still balls deep, turned you both over so he was now underneath and you were now lying on his chest. Tiredly, you looked over your shoulder, smiling as Steve climbed onto the bed and remained behind you.
“Come on then Rogers, let’s see what you’ve got to offer”. Steve smirked at your taunting, reaching to your lips to press his fingers against them, hoping you would open them which you did, and sucked on them, coating the two digits with plenty of spit.
Pulling them out, he aimed them towards your puckered hole, easing one finger in at a time, making sure to thoroughly stretch you out, and adding three more fingers until he was satisfied that you would be able to take him without hurting yourself.
All the while Bucky had remained sheathed in your cunt, still thick and hard, you guessed that this had something to do with the serum that he could stay like this for so long. Without any further waiting, Steve’s cock brushed against your asshole, his warm tip taking its time to tease before being eased in. You felt your body trying to tense at being stretched from the second hole but you willed it to relax, and inch by inch disappeared into your hole.
Just as you felt like you were going to explode from fulness, he stopped, breathing heavily himself. “You’re so fucking tight” he muttered between breaths. The sensation was extremely intense, all of your vulnerable nerves were being touched in both the front and the back.
Steve’s hand fell into your hair once he had composed himself, pulling back harshly, effectively lifting you up from Bucky’s chest so that you had to lean your hands on his pecks whilst his hands rested against your breasts, which were still covered in your oversized shirt.
As Steve began to move, making sure to work with Bucky’s movements, you couldn’t believe how incredible pleasuring it felt, it was almost too much as each graze of someone's cock had you twitching to cum. 
It was an endless cycle of smacking hips together, orgasming hard and then them continuing. You weren't even sure how many times your pussy had convulsed around them both but by this point you had more dribble leaking down your chin and your mind was filled with white noise. The boys noticed that you seemed to be nearing your end and willed themselves to stop holding back their own orgasms.
“Fuck I’m going to cum” Steve stuttered first, pulling out at the same time as Bucky and man-handling you onto your back on the bed. You couldn’t even feel your legs, you had been well and truly fucked as the two super soldiers knelt over your face, tossing themselves off vigorously.
Noticing their plan, in your deliriously fucked out brain you managed to open your mouth and stick your tongue out in preparation for their cum. Steve was the first to shoot his load into your mouth, not missing a single drop as you eagerly licked your lips to make sure his salty goodness was drunk. Bucky followed him soon after, also cuming in your mouth but having to catch a drip with his thumb, pushing his white seed back into your mouth which you eagerly suck and drank down.
Closing your eyes, you were completely exhausted, only just being able to hear the boys beginning to redress themselves. Smiling to yourself, you managed to croak out, voice laced with tiredness, “could you both kindly fuck off and close the door behind you”.
Both of them chuckled as they exited without another word, leaving you to sleep peacefully.
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happywitch416 · 6 months
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Hello From The Other Side
Elena's office is attached to the Blue Palace at the worst place they could imagine, right next door to the Pelagius Wing. When Runa spots a ghost outside the door, they hightail it home only for Serana to drag them back to solve the mystery. But it only starts a new one when she disappears with the ghost before Elena's eyes.
Mama?"     "Hm?" Elena didn’t look up from their work.     "Did you know there’s a ghost in the Blue Palace?"     All the hair on their arms stood on end as they froze. "There is not."   "Could it come in here?" Runa was fidgeting with her sleeve, staring at the door that led into the palace proper.     "Baby, there’s- there’s no ghost."     "Then why won’t you look?"     Elena took a deep breath and set aside their pen, the inkblot still spreading. Every part of them screamed to not look but they did anyway, telling themself Runa was just messing with them.     Except someone was looking back.
Elena was curled up on the couch when Serana got home. "Runa called- Elena?!" She took their frozen, shaking hands in hers.     "Palace is haunted." They turned green. "Saw it. Wish I didn’t."     "Really?" A brief smile appeared as Elena heard Serana’s brain start working. "Huh. I wonder who it is."     "Does it matter?!"     Serana was hesitant. "It does. It could be anyone, any former ruler or servant. Where did you see it?"     "Ru saw it first, but it was at the door between the office and the rest of the palace wing." Elena let go of her hands to rub at their arms.     "Isn’t that the old Pelagius wing?"     "Aye." Elena said quietly. "I never wanted the office there because of that."     "Which side of the door?"     "Palace. Can it, can it get into my office? If I put a poster over the glass will it fuck off?"     "Darling." Serana very gently took their hands again when their knuckles started cracking as they ground their fingertips together. "Ghosts don’t believe in doors." Elena shrunk in on themself. "I can go look at it." Elena shook their head violently and she let out a soft laugh, tucking back some of their fire red curls. "I am a necromancer, if it talks shit I will make it wish it stayed dead."     Elena groaned, pulling their knees up and pressing their face against them as they mumbled. "I can’t let my wife go yell at ghost by herself." Serana patted their shoulder. "Well, I can’t."
"It may not be anything evil." Elena gave her a sidelong scowl. "Spirits get lost, not everyone is a hero meant for Sovngarde." She reminded them gently before finally saying what she had initially thought when Runa had told her. "It might be Torygg."     Elena let out a hysterical whimper. "I don’t want to be haunted by my dead friend."     "Maybe he doesn’t know Ulfric is dead."     Elena straightened turning thoughtful. "Tor was protective, always wanting the best for people. To keep them safe." Shame crept on to their face. "And he died there. There was no one to protect him, no one that could."     "Except you."     "And I wasn’t there." They sighed. "Fine. We'll go talk to the damn ghost." They scowled when Serana kissed their cheek. "But if it’s some damned demon or crazy emperor, I am going to haunt you."     They settled in at the office, Serana drinking her tea serenely as Elena lined up three energy drink cans. "Do I sit on the floor and chant nonsense?"     "If you want." Serana laughed. "I was going to eat dinner and see if it wanders up."     "How can you eat knowing there’s, that some fucker is looking at us."     "There isn’t." Elena shot her look. "Necromancer."     Elena settled cross legged on Jordis' desk chair and stared at the door as she grumbled mockingly. "Necromancer." Serana snickered.     Elena had both elbows leaned on the desk, eyelids heavy and barely hearing the pages of Serana’s book turn. "I thought this was supposed to be dramatic."     "Just on Runa’s shows." Serana informed them. "Even when I’ve summoned ghosts it’s been pretty boring." Elena’s face contorted. "I didn’t summon any in the house."     "I don’t know why I ever worried about Alduin; I married the scariest thing in Skyrim."     "Yes, you did." Elena about fell out of the chair when she ghosted her fingers up their sides. "Boo."     A groan of laughter left them, and they wrapped their arms around her waist and hid their face against her. "You are so mean."     "It keeps you young." She giggled, running her fingers through their hair. "I think we should call it a night. I haven’t felt-." There was a click against the window glass.     Elena’s stomach fell into their boots, and they swallowed hard before they could speak. "It’s there isn’t it?"     "It is." Serana’s voice was very empty. "It’s not Torygg."  
They nodded; face still pressed to Serana’s stomach. "Thats good." They squeaked.     "I don’t know enough history to tell who it is. Not from my time though." Elena whimpered. "I can look it up. Maybe."     "I can do it." Elena’s voice was barely a whisper, but they let go and turned the chair, eyes screwed shut. Serana’s hands found their shoulders and with a deep breath they opened them.     The figure was watching them, its head tilted to the side with a wide-eyed, slightly crazed smile. "Oh, I hate it." Elena muttered. "A Septim, I think." Its head tilted the other direction slowly, its smile widening. "Stendarr’s mercy." Serana stepped away from them and towards the door. "Hey, wait no." Elena missed grabbing her hand.     They watched, frozen to their seat, fingers clawing into the wood as Serana reached out and opened the door.     And then vanished with the ghost.     "Serana?!" Elena bolted across the room, grabbing the still open door and searched the hallway beyond wildly. "Serana? This isn’t funny." They waited a breath, and there was nothing but silence.     Elena pulled out their phone, their breathing rapid and was near lightheaded before someone answered.     "Elena?" Illia groggily answered, checking the time and her brows furrowed.     "I’m. help. At the office. Serana. There was a ghost and she’s gone, and I don’t know what to do." Elenas voice gradually grew louder and faster as they continued to babble. “But she disappeared and so did it and.”   Illia cut them off. "Breathe, Elena, we are on our way."     They found Elena staring at the still open door, their skin so pale they glowed. "What happened?" Illia bent to look into their eyes and then spoke over her shoulder. "They’re in shock, grab a blanket and make some tea." Jordis nodded and disappeared down the other hall. "Elena." She set her hands gently on their shoulders, heart aching when Elena jerked. "I need you to talk to me, honey. I can’t help if I don’t know what happened."     Elena nodded slowly and started to explain, letting Jordis wrap a blanket around their shoulders and shove a hot mug of bitter tea into their hands. "And then she just disappeared. With the ghost."     "You said it looked like a Septim?" Elena nodded and Illia pulled out her phone. "You know they’ve said for years that the Pelagius wing is haunted."     "But where, why would a ghost take her?"     "She’s a powerful necromancer." She sorted out all the Septims that had never lived in the Blue Palace, and then all the women. "If they have unfinished business, she’d be able to help."     "They can’t ask nicely?" They squawked.     Illia held out her phone. "Which of these?"  
Elena studied them a moment and then blew hard out through their nose. "Pelagius the Mad."     "You are certain?" Elena nodded. "Well fuck."     "What, what do we do?" The panicked look returned. “We can do something right?”     "Right now, I say we wait and make a call to Ranmeif, ghosts can’t just kidnap someone."     "But a daedra can." Elena grumbled pulling out their phone. "If I have to walk through Oblivion for the next century, so fucking be it." Their fingers shook too much to dial. "I want my wife back, work damn it."     Ranmeif was on his way, Illia was going through her sources and Jordis had both eyes on Elena. They still hadn’t left the chair, fingers wrapped around their wrist so tight their fingers were colorless as they stared down the door.     "It’ll be alright, Elena." A hysterical whimper answered her. "This might be the weirdest shit in your life though." Elena shook their head. "And she’s more than capable of taking care of herself."     "I know that." Elena snapped with a scowl. "She wrangles me and the kids without batting an eyelash and is a teacher. No Daedric lord stands a chance."     There was a pop and cloud of mauve colored smoke that had Elena out of their chair and ducked behind a filing cabinet. Coughing, Serana waved her hand in front of her face and stepped out of it. "Elena?"     "Oh, thank fuck." Serana’s feet left the floor, a staff clattering from her hand as she hugged Elena close. They set her down, barely, their shaking fingers brushing her cheek. "Are you okay? Where did you go? What the fuck-"     "I’m alright." She smiled up at them. "I’m alright, Elena." They nodded looking green and she pulled them back down into a hug. Elena buried their face against her neck and breathed her in until the shaking stopped. "If it makes it better, he won’t be back."     "I’m working from home forever." They mumbled. "And I’m going to sit on you while I do."     Illia picked up the staff, studying the screaming face. "Is this the wabbajack?"     "Yeah." Serana stepped away from Elena who reached out and grabbed her hand in a vice grip that made her smile. "From Sheo himself."     "You have to tell me what happened." Illia gushed.     Jordis interrupted as Elena opened their mouth. "And I’ll take tall, red and anxious to get coffee." Elena scowled, wrapping both hands around Serana’s. "Nope, come on you." Jordis snagged their elbow and yanked them towards the door. "I’m going to be sick if I have to keep watching you."     "I’d hope your wife gets kidnapped by a daedra but she’d study them like a bug in a jar."     "You think yours didn’t?"  Elena Songschild Master List
The Witch Writes Master List
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In Your Words
Larissa Weems x Fem!Journalist!Reader
Hiya! I've finally finished this bad boy <3 I'm uploading this lengthy fic cause I'll be having a shit ton of Uni Exams the next few weeks and won't be able to write.
Big thanks to @weemssapphic and some other friends for proofreading this fic <3
Disclaimer: English is not my first language!
Warning: SMUT 18+, minors DNI
Authors Note: Y/N is a newsreporter and wants to write a story about Nevermore and outcasts. What happens if a normie Journalist and an outcast Headmistress work together? (I suck at descriptions, have fun xD)
Words: 9'200+
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You sat in your little office at the news station of Jericho, finger hovering over the mouse of your computer. You were hesitating. The cursor sat neatly atop the ‘send��� button, ready to send your email to its recipient. But you hesitated. Why? You didn’t know. 
It’s true that it was frowned upon to interact with the outcasts, but you just couldn’t believe that they were as terrible as everyone said they were. You have seen them plenty of times strolling through the little city, shopping and stopping by the Weathervane for a drink. None of them ever seemed malicious or evil to you. With a deep inhale, you pressed send and quickly shut your computer off. There's no going back now. 
The next day at the office, you were surprised to find that the Headmistress of Nevermore Academy, Larissa Weems, has replied. With a nervous breath, you opened the email:
Dear Miss Y/l/n,
I am pleasantly surprised about learning of your interest in outcasts, my students and the school in general. There are, however, a few things I would like to clarify first.
Now, if I understood correctly, you wish to catch a glimpse into the life of an outcast to then create a report about our differences and similarities with non-outcasts? 
Because of the nature of this request, I have to let you know that I will not tolerate any sort of mockery or bad-mouthing of my students or my school. 
You will have to follow our rules, outcast or not. 
I won’t allow you to follow one of my students around, as this would pose a serious safety hazard for my students and yourself. 
However, you are very welcome to settle yourself into my office and follow me around for however many days you deem necessary. 
If this is alright with you, I would be willing to meet you coming Monday at the Weathervane and take you to the Academy. 
Sincerely,
Larissa Weems
You released the breath you were holding and smiled to yourself. You replied to Miss Weems, agreeing to her terms and wishing her a wonderful weekend. 
The following two hours consisted of preparing everything you needed for your report: a few notepads and notebooks, your laptop, a tablet, your camera and some pens. You couldn't help but feel nervous at the prospect of having the opportunity to report about the outcasts. This was not a subject anyone had ever really done research on, and you were adamant to figure out why everyone seemed so fearful of a bunch of teenagers in a school in the woods. 
Over the weekend, you exchanged a few more emails with the Principal, clearing up any last logistical problems you’ve had. 
You asked if you were allowed to stay for a week, to which she replied that it would be no problem if you agreed to stay in one of the empty studios that were meant for teachers at Nevermore. 
Of course, you agreed.
Monday rolled around, and you were standing in front of the Weathervane, waiting for the Principal of Nevermore to pick you up. You have heard descriptions of her, and you knew she frequented the little Café a lot, yet you have never seen her in person before. Absentmindedly, you sipped on your hot chocolate, typing something on your phone, when suddenly:
“Miss Y/l/n I presume?” A soft voice with a wonderful British accent sounded from beside you. You turned your head to be met with a beige coat. Having to look up you finally made eye contact with the woman whose beautiful voice ripped you out of your thoughts.
You smiled up at her, nervousness flooding your chest as you took in the beauty of the woman in front of you.
“Principal Weems. It’s a pleasure to meet you!” you said quietly, nerves completely taking over your logical mind and body. You reached your hand out to shake hers. She took her beige glove off, and took your hand in hers. Her hand was soft, warm and wrapped perfectly around yours. Perfectly manicured red nails decorated her pale skin. 
“Likewise!” She smiled down at you and removed her hand, putting her glove on again, and you immediately missed the feeling of her hand on yours. 
“Are you ready for us to leave, Miss Y/l/n?”
“Oh… yes, of course!” You grabbed your bag with your equipment and personal items and followed her to her car. You set your luggage in the boot and sat in the passenger seat. Larissa sat in the driver's seat and started driving towards the Academy. After some silence, you spoke up again.
“Thank you so much for letting me stay at the Academy for a week.” Larissa smiled to herself and quickly glanced over at you before eyeing the road again.
“I should thank you. My students usually don’t get this sort of… exposure to the outside world. We are used to people avoiding us because of… fear or discrimination… whatever you want to call it.” Her tone shifted to a quieter and more serious one, her hands gripping the steering wheel just a little tighter. You sensed a shift in energy and gave her a reassuring smile. 
“I believe everyone deserves a chance to be understood and seen.” You replied, and that seemed to relax the headmistress. She shot you a thankful smile, then focused back on the road, the rest of the ride being spent in comfortable silence.
Once at Nevermore, Larissa showed you around the grounds, having one of the teachers carry your possessions to the on-campus studio flat, which will be your new home for the following week. 
Roaming the halls, it didn’t seem much different than a school for regular humans (besides it being incredibly fancy, of course) and you found that the students seemed like sweet kids. Truly, you couldn’t understand how there was so much hatred and fear surrounding these kids. 
Larissa led you to her office, offering you a separate desk to work on. You set your laptop bag on the desk and turned to look at the headmistress, who was standing next to her desk.
“Now, Miss Y/l/n, you are free to follow me around the Academy whenever you want, but I trust you understand why I wouldn’t want you roaming the halls on your own.” She looked at you with a raised eyebrow.
“Of course, Miss Weems!” you reassured her quickly. “I understand how important it is for you to protect these kids… but I can assure you there are no ill intentions by me being here! After what I’ve seen thus far, I cannot believe why anyone would be fearful of outcasts. This is why I’m here. I don’t believe that these kids are as dangerous as everyone in Jericho, let alone the rest of the world, believes them to be.” You looked at her, and there was a slight shift of emotion on her face. Hope? Distrust? Surprise? You didn't know. After a few seconds of silence, the headmistress spoke up again.
“Very well,” she said, grinning at you with her million-dollar-winning smile. “If you ever feel like you would like to see more of the school or learn about its history, don’t be afraid to ask.” Her smile softened slightly. She seemed very fond of her students and her Academy. It truly warmed your heart, and you couldn't help but blush slightly. With a slight nod, you thanked her and sat down, getting your things ready to start your research. 
Every now and then throughout the morning, you caught yourself glancing over at the tall woman. She sat in perfect posture, working on her laptop and typing away on some emails or documents. You didn’t realise how long you had been staring at her. The way her eyes flicked over the screen and the way she swiftly moved her fingers over the keyboard had you in a trance-like state. Her perfectly painted red lip curled up on the side, and she raised one of her eyebrows.
“Has no one taught you that staring is rude?” Her eyes flicked over to yours, and you quickly averted your eyes back on your own screen, mumbling a quiet ‘sorry’ her way. Your face felt hot, and you knew you were blushing, hard. Larissa chuckled and shook her head a bit in amusement. She stopped her typing and leaned back against the seat, turning to look at you, studying you as if she were… considering you. Shyly, you moved your gaze back to her. 
“Would you like to have a look at one of the classes? Our subjects can vary drastically from the ones in your schools.” she smiled at you and tilted her head slightly. 
“I-I would appreciate that, yes.” You answered, nodding, and quickly moved to grab your notepad and pen. When you looked back up, Larissa was already standing and walking towards the door of her office, only stopping to wait for you to catch up. 
This morning, the headmistress took you to several classes, telling you about all the different subjects they have. You eagerly took notes, asking questions and listening intently to subjects you’d never heard of. Magic, transformation, siren song, etc. You were fascinated, and that didn’t get lost on Larissa. The longer she watched you, the more fond she grew of you. Your interest and amazement made her heart swell with pride for her school and her students. Even though she was rather careful of what to show you, she felt that this might be the biggest step ever made for outcasts to be accepted into everyday normie lives. 
The day went by way faster than you would have wished for it. You have learned so much and were eager to learn even more. Larissa had taken her time explaining their school system to you and while you saw drastic differences, it still didn’t feel too out of the norm. There was one particular student that caught your eye. A rebel, you thought, someone who likes to prank and go against the rules. Those exist in every school, of course, but this girl seemed different. She did it with such nonchalance and elegance that it was almost invisible to the untrained eye. 
After asking the headmistress, she told you about the student. Not much, just enough to answer your questions. Larissa seemed tense so you decided to change the subject, asking her about her own time at the school, and from then on the two of you got completely lost in conversation. Hours passed, and you shared your school experiences and collectively decided that they weren't all too different. With a heavy sigh, you leaned against the couch and watched Larissa refill yours and her wine glass. 
“I have to be honest, even after just one day I have seen enough to tell you that this,” you waved your hand around, “is definitely nothing to be afraid or weary of. I mean… I always knew that the other… “normies”... are being way too sensitive when it comes to this place and its students but seeing it for myself… I simply can’t understand why there's so much hate and fear towards these poor students.” You sighed and took a sip of wine. “I mean… they're just kids aren't they?” You glanced up at the headmistress to see her smiling at you softly, humming in agreement. 
“I have to be honest, Miss Y/l/n-”
“Y/n! You can call me Y/n if you want to,” you interrupted her with a smile, looking back into your glass as you felt your face blush.
“Y/n… I am surprised and… relieved.” She smiled sweetly at you then looked into the fireplace, a sad expression crossing her face. “I wish more people could see the kids for who they are instead of for what they are.” A sigh left her lips and she took a sip of wine. “It’s not easy being… different… an outcast. You can try all you want, there will always be a hint of fear and doubt in non-outcasts.” She turned to look at you, her icy blues piercing yours. “Are you afraid, Y/n?” she asked, quietly, almost inaudible, but you caught the slight shiver in her voice. It broke your heart to see her like this. You didn’t really know that woman except for what she was willing to tell you, but you knew, without a doubt, that she was the most precious being on the entire planet, and you would move planets just to see her at peace. Without really thinking about it, you set your glass down and moved to hold one of her hands.
“Miss Weems… Larissa… if I may?” you started, gently, and she nodded at you, “I do not claim to know what you and your students have to go through, day by day. Being villainized, misunderstood and what not. But what I do know is that I want to help you make a difference. The kids are nothing but kids… Powers and mutations aside… No matter how different you may seem from me, you are still a person. You don’t deserve to be treated like they treat you… all of you.” You smiled at her with a caring expression on your face and gently squeezed her hand. Larissa looked at you, eyes trained on your face, searching for lies, but she couldn't find any. She inhaled shakily and took a big sip of her wine then squeezed your hands back.
“Thank you,” was all she replied. You didn’t need more. You knew she meant it. You felt it. With a last gentle squeeze, you let go of her hand, grabbing your glass again.
“To my… to our project!” you smirked and raised your glass to her. She chuckled and shook her head slightly, looking back at you endearingly and raised her glass as well. 
“To our project.”
As the week went on, Larissa and you started to develop a little routine. You would meet her in the morning to go to the Weathervane and get some breakfast to-go, spend the morning in her office or with a teacher of her choice (mostly Marilyn Thornhill), have lunch with her and the teachers, writing and researching in Larissas office, a dinner with staff and at the end of the day, a glass (or sometimes a bottle) of her favourite wine on the couch in front of the fireplace. Being around Larissa was incredibly easy. You loved talking to her, listening to her, discussing topics other than schools and outcasts. You felt safe, comfortable… you felt at home. And you weren’t the only one who felt this way. Larissa would catch herself, more than she’d like to admit, looking at you, watching you with adoration as you wrote and researched. She liked you. It wasn't a secret. She loved being around you and was looking forward to the evenings at the fireplace. A refreshing difference she desperately needed. Larissa had grown very fond of you, and she hoped you felt the same. 
When Friday evening rolled around you were already sitting on the couch in Larissa’s office, waiting for her to come back with the wine as it suddenly hit you. It was already Friday… you’ll be leaving again on Monday. You’ll have to go back to your office and finish the report. Would you be able to see her again? Could you stay in contact? Larissa entered, placing the bottle and glasses on the table then saw the light crease between your brows as you stared into the flames of the fireplace, obviously deep in thought. 
“Y/n?” she asked softly, and laid her hand on your shoulder, and you snapped your head towards her, not having heard her appear next to you. “Are you alright dear?” 
“Yeah!..yeah.” You smiled up at her, watching her sit down next to you and opening the wine bottle. “I’ve just realised that it’s already Friday… The week really went by in a flash, huh?” You took the wineglass she held out to you and looked at it, swishing the red liquid around absent-mindedly. Larissa’s heart constricted seeing you like this. 
“It did! But… as upsetting as it is, I am glad to see that you enjoyed your week here!” She took a sip of her wine and watched you closely. “That being said, seeing how my students seemed to like you being around,” and I, she thought, “you are more than welcome to return whenever you feel like it.” She watched you closely, seeing your eyes light up made her feel warm and content. 
“I would love that Larissa. Thank you! And you are always welcome at the news station. I’ll make sure the others behave, don't worry.” you giggled and winked at her which pulled a small laugh from her lips and she shook her head amusedly. “I mean it!” You smiled as you snuggled into the couch and took a sip of wine, humming as the liquid hit your tongue, “If any of your students ever wants to know more about journalism or is interested in it, let me know. Matter of fact…” you sat up and straightened your back, holding your hand out to the blonde, “give me your phone I’ll give you my number so you can just let me know in case there is something.” 
Larissa hesitated. She looked at your hand for a second, then smiled shyly and grabbed her phone, unlocking it and handing it to you to type in your number. She watched fondly as you typed your number in her phone. A slight tingle spread from her chest over her body as she took her phone back after you’ve saved your number. 
“Thank you!” she said quietly, “I- really do appreciate it… everything you do. For us. Me and the students.” A soft pink colour kissed her cheeks and she gave you a truly heartfelt smile. You smiled back at her, butterflies spreading through your whole body. Her smile was the most beautiful thing you have ever seen. You knew right there, she had you wrapped around her finger. You have fallen. 
You were able to finish your report on the last day of your stay in Nevermore, handing it in to be reviewed by your boss so it could be printed and released asap. With a heavy sigh, you leaned back into the chair, stretching your arms and back. Larissa smiled over at you and set her paperwork aside.
“I take it you’ve just handed in your story to be reviewed?” she asked with a gentle smile. Her eyes held a hint of sadness at the realisation that her office would be empty once again. You smiled over at her and nodded gently.
“Yes! Just handed it in! If everything goes well, you’ll be able to read it on Tuesday! And Larissa… thank you again… for everything!” 
The blonde stood up, walking over to your side, and placed her hand on your shoulder, squeezing it gently. 
“I should thank you. This… means way more to us than you could ever imagine!” Her smile was warm, eyes soft. You felt a shudder rush down your spine as you realised that you haven’t seen her this soft with anyone but you. All of this vulnerable affection was only directed towards you, only to be seen by your eyes. 
You wanted to tell her… tell her that you like her. Tell her that she is the most beautiful woman you’ve ever had the pleasure to lay your eyes on. Just as you were about to open your mouth, she pulled away. 
“If you want to, I can drive you back. I could drop you off at the Weathervane or.. At your place, if you prefer?” Larissa spoke, closing her laptop and putting her paperwork into a drawer. The headmistress didn’t want you to go, but she knew that if she would let you stay longer, she wouldn't be able to hold herself back. Certainly you wouldn’t feel the same… right?
“That.. that would be nice! Thank you!” you replied, feeling defeated. Maybe it was better to keep your feelings to yourself. Who knows, maybe she wasn’t interested in women.. Or simply normies. You took a deep breath, collecting your things and going to your room to pack the last few things. When you returned to the headmistress’ office, she was already waiting for you. 
The drive back to Jericho was rather quiet. Neither of you knew what to say to the other. You wanted to tell her everything, pour your heart out to her and so did she, but you stayed quiet. Once you arrived at your Flat Complex, Larissa turned to you. 
“It was really nice having you at Nevermore. Again, thank you for doing this for us. And… If you should ever want to come and visit, you are more than welcome to do so! I am sure the Students would love to see you again sometime.” and herself… but she didn't say that.  You gave her a genuine smile, nodding slightly. 
“I enjoyed my week there! You truly have wonderful students. And, I mean, you have my number so… if you or any of the kids should ever need something, just feel free to contact me!” You hoped she would contact you, but only time could tell. 
It has been a month since you’ve last heard from Larissa. Your article got approved, and she complimented you on it, thanking you again profusely. That was the last, and only, time you’ve heard of her after staying at Nevermore. Sure, she was a busy woman, but you couldn’t help but feel upset. And you wouldn’t text her first, no. The anxiety that arose in you every time you tried to do so was enough to completely freeze you. So when you walked into the Weathervane on a Thursday morning to grab a coffee, you were more than delighted to see her there, quickly walking up to her.
“Good morning, Principal Weems” you said softly, watching her turn around and seeing her eyes light up as she saw you. 
“Good morning Y/N!” she replied with a smile. That darn beautiful smile of hers. “Are you also here to grab some breakfast before work?” she asked, turning fully to you, all herattention focused on you, your face, those eyes she came to admire over the time you’ve spent at her school. 
“I am but.. Uhm… if you’re not in a hurry, would you like to have breakfast with me?” you did it, you asked her. The second the question left your lips, you felt your cheeks heat up. Larissa looked at you with adoration and nodded. 
“I would love to, actually!” She smiled and tilted her head slightly. She noticed your blush and couldn’t help but feel giddy about it. Was she the reason you blushed?
“Wonderful! What do you want? It’s my treat!” You smile, feeling a bit more confident now, seeing her soft and happy gaze directed only at you. 
“Oh, you really don’t have to-”
“But I want to!” 
Larissa sighed, shaking her head slightly with a grin, and chuckled at how adamant you were.
“Fine. Next time, it’s my treat!” She gave you her order and went to sit at a booth, waiting for you to join her. You couldn’t believe your ears. Next time? There will be a next time? The smile that spread on your lips could only be described as the smile of a happy fool. Truly, you were a fool. A fool for her. 
After you’ve ordered and paid for your coffees and pastries, you made your way over to her, slipping into the booth. 
“So… how have you been? How have the kids been?” you asked, trying to make small talk. You felt so awkward, but that feeling quickly washed away as you saw Larissa’s soft smile.
“Very well! Your report had quite the impact on how people from Jericho treat my students. I just wanted to thank you again. The effect this has had on our lives is way greater than I could have hoped for. The article… your words… truly left an impact.” She reached her hand out, grabbing yours and squeezing it lightly.
“Thank you!”
Your smile grew tenfold, and you squeezed her hand back. 
“I am so happy to hear that this has worked out so well for you and your students.” You shyly pulled your hand back and thanked the waiter when he placed your drinks and pastries in front of you.
“How have you been y/n?” Larissa asked. She was looking at you… into you… into your soul with those beautiful ice-y blue eyes. You felt your cheeks heat up and grabbed your cup as well, trying to ground yourself. 
“I’ve been well! The Article has caught a lot of attention, so I’ve been rather busy lately…” You smiled at her and took a sip as she watched. 
“Though I do have to say, I miss being around the kids…” and around you, you thought to yourself. The blonde eyed you over her coffee mug and smiled sweetly. 
“In that case, would you like to come to the Rave’N this weekend?” She did it… she asked you. Her heart was beating like crazy but seeing the light blush covering your face she couldn't help but feel proud of herself. 
“The Rave’N? Really?” You asked, not believing your ears. Larissa nodded and tilted her head. 
“Yes really! Our theme this year is ‘Climate crisis meets extinction effect’ and the dress code is white.” She took a bite of her pastry and smiled at you. You thought for a second. You didn’t have any white outfits, so you’d definitely have to buy one, but you’d be damned if you wouldn’t agree to her invitation.
“In that case, I’d love to!” The smile you gave her made Larissa’s heart melt. How were you so precious? She nodded slightly. 
“I’ll have Marilyn pick you up here at around 5:30pm on Saturday. The students will be excited to see you again!” She finished her coffee and snack and stood up.
“I’d love to stay longer, but I have to get back to Nevermore… I’ll see you this Saturday, dear.” and with that, she left your flustered self in the Weathervane.
Shopping for an appropriate but also impressive garment was not easy. You currently had 2 dresses in front of you and couldn’t decide which one to pick. One was made of silk and rather simple but had an extravagant high slit up your right thigh and a very low back, whereas the other covered more of your back and arms but was a bit shorter with a princess gown puff skirt. You sighed and decided to put them on again, took a picture of you wearing them and sent them to Marilyn. You and her had gotten rather close during the week you spent at Nevermore, and you’d kept contact even afterwards. She was such a sweetheart, but she was also a pain in the ass as she has been nagging you about your outfit all afternoon already. 
It didn’t take long for you to be flooded with messages of Marilyn going crazy over the silk dress. 
Marilyn:
“Oh, you SO have to get the silky one! Larissa won’t be able to keep her eyes off of you”
Y/N:
“What do you mean? Why would you say that?”
Marilyn: 
“Oh come ooooon… It is SOOOOOOO obvious that you have the hots for her… just pick the silk one.”
You were sure Marilyn would laugh at you if she could see you right now. Your face was bright red because you’d been found out. Was it really that obvious? Did Larissa know? Was that why she invited you? Could she... no. No, that probably wasn’t the case... Just wishful thinking. With a sigh you looked back on your phone. 
Y/N:
“Fine. I’ll get the silk one. But just because you picked it 😛”
You got dressed again and went to buy the garment. 
Once back at home, you took your time to look for hair and makeup inspiration to complete your look and be ready for Saturday. Marilyn and you had been texting back and forth all day, and she’d helped you pick the perfect hairstyle and makeup for the Rave’N.
You were nervous… of course you were, but there was this little glimmer of hope starting to take hold within you. Maybe Larissa really did like you.
You were waiting in front of the Weathervane for Marilyn to come and pick you up. 
Were you nervous? Absolutely! 
Were you excited? Definitely! 
But you couldn’t help and worry… worry about… you were actually not sure. Your nerves were getting the better of you and there was nothing that could be done against it. Not that you haven’t tried… you definitely did! You went through every trick in the book.
Breathing exercise? No effect.
Meditation? Nothing.
A tea? That just made you worried that you would spill it on your dress, so that wasn’t helping at all. 
So you just stood there… waiting.
“Hey! You good?” you suddenly heard someone call out to you and released a sigh. 
“Marilyn! Hey!” You smiled at your friend and got into the car, leaning over to give her a hug. 
“Not really… my nerves are taking over right now.” You groaned. 
“You’re just making yourself crazy over nothing! Relax! You’ll be fine!” she smirked and turned her gaze back onto the road, starting towards Nevermore. 
“You look amazing by the way!”
You chuckled and looked out of the window. You did look nice… it also took you forever to get ready. You had braided some hair along the sides of your head and pulled everything up into a fluffy space bun, which you decorated with some crystal pins. Your makeup was soft, in nude colours, with a soft peach lip and some sparkly eyeshadow on your eyelids. The dress fit perfectly and hugged every curve of your body, and you had found the perfect off-white heels in your closet. 
“Thank you! Wouldn’t have managed to pull this off without you!” You smile and look over at the redhead. Marilyn was grinning to herself.
“If you two hook up, I deserve to be invited to dinner by you!” Your shocked gasp caused her to laugh out loud.
“Oh come on! I know you want her… and to be quite honest…” She raised an eyebrow and glanced over at you with a mischievous smirk. “I think the feelings are mutual.”
The blush that spread on your face was all Marilyn needed to know she was right.
“You’ll see! She’ll be absolutely smitten with you looking like this.”
“We’ll see…” you reply, watching the scenery outside. 
Marilyn parked the car and ran around to open the door for you with a dramatic bow. 
“M’lady.” she chuckled, and you rolled your eyes amusedly as you got out of the car. 
“You’re an idiot!” 
The teacher smirked and moved to hold her arm out for you to hold. She led you into the building and guided you towards the great hall. 
You weren’t expecting to be swarmed by students the second you entered the ballroom. 
“Hi Y/N! What are you doing here?”
“You look gorgeous! Who invited you?”
“It’s so nice you’re back! Come! Let's go dance!”
“Do you want something to drink? I’ll get you some punch!”
You were being surrounded and swarmed by the students, and it warmed your heart to see how excited they were by your presence. Marilyn slipped away from you without you noticing, the second she realised someone was walking up to the newly formed commotion around your presence. You struggled answering all of their questions when suddenly you felt a hand on your shoulder and the students grew quiet. 
“Now, now… dear y/n has just arrived, don’t crowd her like that. You’ll have enough time to have a chat with her tonight.” The smooth British voice echoed from behind you and a pleasant shudder ran down your spine. The students nodded and went back to their friends on the dance floor. You turned around to look up at the principal. 
Larissa couldn’t help but let her eyes roam over your figure. The dress you chose was absolutely exquisite, your makeup complimenting the simplicity of the outfit and your hair that just looked too soft. Vulgar thoughts flooding her mind as she finally caught your eyes. You were looking up at her with big doe eyes, so innocent and sweet. 
“Come in! Want something to drink?” she asked as she gently took your arm and led you into the ballroom. You couldn’t believe your eyes. Larissa looked… She was a goddess. Her hair was up like always but decorated with some intricate curls, her usual red lipstick a wonderful contrast to the silver dress she was wearing. Looking up at her, you saw her eyes scanning you, your heart skipping a beat. Her pupils dilated as she finally landed on your eyes, and you had to suppress a whimper. This woman will be the death of you. It took you a few seconds to register her question and notice her arm intertwined with yours. 
“I- yes… please!” you answered quietly, not being able to suppress the grin gracing your lips. 
Larissa handed you a glass of punch and took one herself. You stood at the edge of the dance floor with her, watching the kids having fun. 
You really wanted to dance with her, but didn’t know how to ask. Should you ask? What if she said no? What if she thought you were weird, and she only wanted to invite you for the kids’ sake? But… What if she said yes? What then? You didn’t know how to dance. Sure, you have visited your fair share of parties, but you didn’t think you were a good dancer. And what if you started dancing, and you didn’t do it right, and she would start laughing and-
“What's going on in that head of yours, darling?” Larissa’s soft voice pulled you out of your thoughts. You looked up at her just to catch her already looking at you. Her eyes were soft, a hint of concern shimmering in them. She looked so… soft. You just wanted to pull her into an embrace, a kiss, soft and full of affection. Taking a breath in, you set your glass on a table then held your hand out to her.
“Would you like to dance, Larissa?” you asked, heart hammering in your chest as you saw her eyes widen ever so slightly in surprise. A sweet pink hue coloured her cheeks as she blinked at you a few times, registering what you just asked her. Larissa quickly placed her glass on the table next to yours and moved to put her hand into yours, looking up at you with a shy smile, nodding. 
“I would love to!” she said quietly, almost above a whisper. The bright smile that appeared on her face was enough to get her heart racing and head spinning. Your eyes were practically sparkling with glee, and it made her feel so fuzzy and warm inside. To have such happiness and excitement directed towards her was a privilege she’s never experienced before. You giddily pulled her onto the dance floor, not believing your luck. 
Marilyn was watching from the corner, watching as you pulled Larissa onto the dance floor. She smirked at the two of you, but something felt weird… the music!
A mischievous smirk graced her features as she waddled off to the DJ and asked him to play a slow and romantic song. The second the music changed, you and Larissa shot a look over at the DJ, seeing Marilyn standing there, innocently waving at the two of you. Oh, you were so going to get revenge on her for that. Your anxiety started kicking in again, but before you could start overthinking it you felt warm hands on your waist. Larissa was pulling you closer, and she just hoped you wouldn’t pull away. 
“Is this okay?” Her piercing blue orbs held steady eye contact with you, and you felt your face heat up. With a nod, you move to place your arms on her shoulders, hands close to her neck. She smiled and started swaying with you to the rhythm of the song. Seeing you so shy and flustered by her gave her the necessary courage to take a step closer. She leaned her head down to your ear, causing a shiver to run down your spine. 
“You look absolutely delectable tonight, my dear. Have you picked this outfit just for me?” Her hot breath on your skin caused you to bite your lip. You nodded.
“I was hoping you’d like it.” You replied quietly. Larissa tightened her grip on you, squeezing your waist gently, which caused a gasp to leave your lips. 
“Dressing up nicely just for me?” She husked, feeling herself getting more confident. Emboldened by the way your body… you reacted to her. 
“You’re such a good girl!” You could hear the smirk in her voice. Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself.
“It’s a shame this dress will be laying somewhere scattered in my quarters after this ball is over.” 
You tightened your grip on her shoulders, pulling her closer. Your heart felt like it was beating out of your chest. The tension was high, atmosphere thick with desire. You felt your knees tremble, ready to take whatever she was willing to give you. You pulled your head back a bit, just enough to look into her eyes, and what you saw almost made you whimper with anticipation. Her usually so pale blue eyes were dark, lustrous, her breathing heavier than usual and her lips were slightly parted. 
Before either of you could say or do anything, you felt something drip on your cheek. Confusedly, you blinked a few times, and Larissa eyed your cheek in concern.
The drips quickly multiplied, and soon you were showered in, what you believed to be, blood. Your eyes widened as you looked around, unable to move. Everything was getting soaked with this red liquid. What was happening?
Larissa was the first to move. She pulled away from you but grabbed your hand and quickly led you outside, the other staff helping the kids get out of the ballroom as well. Some fled into the courtyard and some into the school halls. There was a big commotion amongst the students, and you and Larissa immediately sprang into action, trying to calm the scared kids. Marilyn came running with a pile of blankets and towels to wrap around the sopping pupils. 
Whatever had happened, it was clearly meant as an attack of sorts. You were fuming.  Even after all the positive feedback you got for your report, there were still some bad apples in the normie bunch. If you ever caught who did that, they would surely regret pulling a stunt like that.
After the, you now knew it to be, red dyed water attack, you helped Larissa, Marilyn and the other employees to bring the kids inside and to their dorm rooms. After the last student was brought to their room, you stood in the foyer, watching Larissa talk to the Sheriff. You could tell she was agitated… mad. But yet she kept her composure, talked calmly and was respectful. A light bump against your shoulder alerted you to the presence of your friend.
“Hey… thanks for your help! You really didn’t have to, you know?” Marilyn smiled defeatedly at you, and you returned the smile. 
“It’s okay! I really didn’t mind… Just wished that this wouldn’t have happened… it’s not like they already have it hard enough and now that… I was really hoping that my report had a bigger impact but-”
“Don’t say that!” Marilyn interrupted, “Your article was eye-opening for so many people in town! It definitely helped! Big time! There’s just always gonna be a few assholes trying to ruin everything again.” She was clearly frustrated as well. You looked at her and chuckled, then shook your head. 
“I guess you’re right..” You sighed and rubbed the back of your neck. The two of you stood in silence for a while until Marilyn noticed you watching Larissa again and smirked. 
“Such a shame the two of you got interrupted! It almost seemed as if you were about to kiss.” She teased and your, admittedly already red, face started blushing furiously. You hit her arm lightly.
“Stop teasing!” You hissed, but Marilyn just laughed and nudged you again. 
“What are we laughing about?” You both turned your head towards the voice and saw the headmistress standing in front of you. One perfectly sculpted eyebrow raised in curiosity. Marilyn just chuckled and smirked at you, then at Larissa. 
“Oh nothing important…” She took a deep breath and then clapped her hands together, “Well… I’ll be off… gotta get that red dye out of my hair somehow. Bye bye.” She waved at the two of you, leaving you alone with Larissa once more. She really had the audacity to leave you in situations like these every single time she had the opportunity to. You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose. Larissa watched Marilyn in confusion, then turned to you.
“Y/N… thank you for helping out with the students! I- am so sorry you had to experience this…” She sounded… sad, upset, worried? You looked up at her and saw her looking at you. 
“It’s quite alright! I’m just sad they had to experience that! It’s not fair… they’re good kids and I just don't get why anyone would want to harm them in any way…” You gave her a sad smile, then shyly reached out and grabbed her hand to squeeze it lightly. 
“But I did really enjoy dancing with you, Larissa…” she smiled back at you and squeezed your hand back. 
“As did I… uhm… would you like to come back to my quarters and get that paint washed off? Maybe have a glass of wine?” She was nervous. She was nervous and you could tell. The way her hand lightly trembled, and her eyes darted away from yours while asking. It filled your heart with that fuzzy warm feeling. You nodded and stepped to the side, still holding her hand. 
“Lead the way!”
In Larissa’s quarters, she quickly went into the bathroom, returning with a damp cloth and some makeup wipes in the hopes of getting the dye off your skin and hair. You managed to wipe the paint off your face without any issues, but it really stuck to your hair. Larissa went to quickly shower off the paint, and you couldn't help but think about her in the shower. Water streaming down that smooth alabaster skin. You wished you could have joined her. 
As Larissa got out of the shower, your breath got stuck in your throat. Her damp hair framed her face in gentle curls. She wasn’t wearing any makeup now, and you seriously didn’t think that this woman could get any more beautiful, but, alas, it seems you were mistaken. Before you stood a goddess in champagne coloured silk pyjamas. 
Larissa blushed lightly and smiled at you as she saw you staring. She walked up to you and gently examined your hair, your nostrils filling with the scent of her shampoo by the close proximity of her. 
“Seems the dye really stuck to your hair… here.” She handed you a fresh towel and some spare pyjamas. 
“You can take a shower if you want to!” She added quietly. You smiled back at her and nodded, taking the items in your hands. 
“Thank you! I’ll… uhm… I’ll be right back” You stammered out and quickly made your way to the bathroom. It was luxurious, like the rest of her quarters. You weren't surprised that she handed you the probably softest towel ever and the most luxurious pyjama you ever had the honour of wearing. This woman had an immaculate taste, and it was evident in every aspect of her life. 
After your quick shower, you tossed the towel into the laundry hamper in the corner of the room and walked out, your dress in your hands. That was definitely ruined now.
You entered the living room again and saw Larissa sitting on her couch in front of the fireplace, two glasses and a bottle of wine on the small table in front of it. You put your dress in your bag and sat next to her. She looked over and smiled softly, handing you a glass of wine, which you took gratefully. 
“Thank you! And thanks that I got to use your shower and… borrow some clothes! I really appreciate it.” You smiled at her and took a sip of the wine. Holy mother of god… of course, the wine was absolutely spectacular. Larissa smiled. 
“Don’t mention it. It’s the least I could do.. Plus, I do have to admit I like how my Pyjamas look on you.” She smirked and took a sip of her wine. Larissa eyed you as you just looked at her with wide eyes and a bashful look on your face. You sat the glass down and turned to look at her, clearly gathering your courage to say whatever was on your mind. She thought you looked adorable like that. However, what came out of your mouth next was not something she’d expected to hear. 
“It’s truly a shame that you didn’t get to take my dress off and discard it somewhere in your room…” You smirked at her smugly, but before you could continue your teasing, she had you already pressed against the cushion of the couch. Looking at her, you saw her eyes were full of lust, full of hunger. She gently lifted your head with her finger under your chin, forcing you to keep eye contact as she gently pressed her knee between your legs. You inhale sharply and look at her, lust evident in your gaze. 
“If you want me, all you have to do is say it.” She husked, ghosting her lips over yours. Larissa loved the way you trembled underneath her, but every time you tried to close the gap, she would pull away. 
“You have to say it, darling,” she whispered. You were getting restless, a needy whine escaping you. 
“Please Larissa…” You whimper and look at her with your best puppy eyes. 
“Please what, darling?”
“Please… I need you… I want you,” you breathe out. The heat began to build, and you could already feel that you were soaked. Larissa grinned down at you. 
“Good girl!” 
You didn’t have time to react as Larissa finally closed the gap, pulling you into a bruising kiss. It was so full of need and lust. Your lips moved against hers in perfect harmony. Wrapping your arms around her, you pulled her close. 
The kiss quickly grew hot, passionate. Larissa bit your lower lip, causing you to gasp and giving her the perfect opportunity to deepen the kiss. She explored your mouth with her tongue, leaving you in a state of dizzying bliss. Her skilled tongue fought with yours for dominance, kissing you with such fervour that both of you almost ran out of breath. 
You pulled apart just quickly to catch your breaths before Larissa attacked your neck with hot open-mouthed kisses. Trailing her tongue over your pulse point, then latching on to it and sucking hard. Your back arched into her, head tilting to the side to give her better access. 
The aching between your legs became almost unbearable. You wrapped one of your legs around her hips, pulling her closer, but Larissa gently pulled away, causing a pathetic whine to escape. 
“Patience darling!” She husked as she sat up and swiftly picked you up, carrying you to her bedroom and dropping you on the bed. The second you laid there, she was already on you again, her lips continuing their assault on your neck. Larissa moved to slowly unbutton the pyjama shirt you were wearing, but you were too impatient. With a swift motion, you helped her unbutton the rest of the shirt and pulled it off of your body, leaving you with a bare chest. Larissa chuckled darkly. 
“Impatient are we?” she roamed her hands over your soft stomach, cupping one of your breasts. Dipping her head down again, she moved to the other breast and took your hardened nipple in her mouth, teasing it with her teeth and tongue. You moved your hands in her hair, pulling gently at the sensation she was rewarding you with. Larissa moaned against your breast as a reaction which caused you to buck your hips up. You were so desperate for her, and it was so pathetic, but you didn’t care. All you could feel, small, taste, hear, was her. And you needed more.
“Rissa please,” you groaned as you felt her lips travel towards the hem of the pyjama trousers. 
“Need you,” you breathed out. Looking down, you saw her smirk up at you. As she pulled away again you were about to protest but seeing her take her blouse off silenced you immediately. You sat up, reaching out to her and running your fingertips over her body, watching goosebumps spreading over her skin. You cupped her breasts and massaged them, teasing her nipples with your fingers as you leaned in to kiss her. 
Larissa melted into your touch and kiss. Quiet sighs and moans leaving her lips as she laid you back down. 
“I need to taste you darling,” she whispered between kisses, and you whimpered in response, nodding gently. 
“Please! Please…” 
Larissa kissed her way down your body again, pulling the trousers down as she moved her kisses down your legs. She threw the trousers somewhere into the dark of the room, then moved her hands to your knees, spreading your legs gently. She groaned at the sight of a wet spot on your white lace underwear. The blonde looked up at you, watching your reaction as she ran her thumb over the wet spot, pressing down on it gently. Your back arched off the bed and your mouth opened in a quiet moan. 
“P- please Rissa… need you so bad,” you whimpered, rolling your hips against her thumb, needing more friction. In any other situation Larissa would have loved to tease you more, but she was just as desperate to taste you as you were to feel her tongue on you. So without further pause, she swiftly pulled your thong down your legs. She almost moaned at the sight of your glistening cunt in front of her. 
“All of this because of me?” she groaned and moved to kiss the inside of your thigh as you nodded. 
“You’re such a good girl, y/n.'' Larissa couldn't hold back any more. She had to taste you. The smell of your arousal made her mouth water and her head dizzy. The second her tongue made contact with your wet and hot cunt, the breath got stuck in your throat and Larissa let out one of the most vulgar moans you’ve ever heard, causing your eyes to roll to the back of your head. 
Larissa wasted no time in eating you out. Her tongue danced around your clit before she captured it between her lips and sucked. You moaned out loud, her name falling off your lips like a prayer. The way she used her mouth on you made you feel ecstatic, you felt like you were on cloud nine. The world, every responsibility you had, everything that has ever bothered or hurt you, everything that has been on your mind and stressing you out lately was just gone. 
Larissa never slowed her ministrations on you, listening to your cues, noticing how your body reacted to certain things. She loved how easily your body reacted to her. It's like you were made to be pleased by her. 
“R-issa… need more..” you gasped out between moans. You needed more of her, needed her in you. Larissa smirked and ran her tongue over the length of your slit one last time before rubbing two of her fingers against your entrance gently, coating it with your slick. You were so desperate to feel her fill you up, your hips rolling against her, motioning for her to stop teasing you. She easily slipped one finger in as soon as she thought they were wet enough. You let out a low moan and moved against her as she started pumping her finger in and out slowly. After a while, she pushed a second finger in and watched you grip the sheets. 
“You take me so well, my love.” She praised and moved kisses up your body as she picked up speed with her fingers. Larissa managed to hit spots no one ever had, curling her fingers against that soft, spongy spot that made you see stars. Your walls clenched around her fingers, and you felt the coil tighten in your abdomen. 
“M’close… Riss-ah” your moans only spurred her on more. She wanted to hear you, she wanted to see you come undone, she wanted to hear her name on your lips over and over and over again. Larissa picked up her pace again, using her thumb to rub small circles over your sensitive clit. The coil in your abdomen was about to snap, and she felt it. 
“That's it! Cum for me, y/n. Let me hear you,” she husked into your ear as she nibbled on your earlobe. That was all you needed for the coil to snap. Your legs and arms wrapped around her, needing her impossibly close as you came on her hand with a cry of her name. Larissa was gentle. She helped you ride out your orgasm and then very carefully pulled her fingers out. Your limbs went weak and dropped from her. You lay on the bed, breathing heavily and exhausted. You felt a shift on the bed but didn't have the strength to open your eyes. A few minutes later you felt the mattress dip again then felt a soft, damp and warm sensation between your legs. Larissa had gotten some towels to help clean you up. She used the damp one to clean between your legs and used a dry one to dab the sweat off your face. 
A soft smile spread over your lips as the blonde returned the towels, then came back and laid in bed next to you. Pulling her closer, you started to press soft sleepy kisses to her chin and neck, but she stopped you gently. You looked up at her with a pout, and she kissed your forehead gently. 
“Rest!” She whispered and pulled you close. You frowned at her. 
“But I want to make you feel good too,” you whispered back and held tightly onto her. She just shook her head, a content and also sleepy smile gracing her features. 
“You can. Tomorrow! We have all day to ourselves tomorrow,” she replied and stroked your cheek gently, looking into your eyes lovingly. You smiled and nodded, snuggling into her embrace, you let out a quiet and content sigh. This felt right. This felt like home. 
“Good Night Rissa.” 
“Good Night y/n.”
-------
I hope you liked it <3 Comments are greatly appreciated :3
Tags: @vivendraws
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slut4thebroken · 10 months
Text
Exposure Therapy pt. 9
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Pairing | Jonathan Crane × reader
Summary | Dr. Crane finally gives you a reward.
Warnings | 18+, sexual content, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, breeding, kissing, grinding, face sitting, 69, finger fucking, praise, degradation, consensual sex, cockwarming?, this is as close as he’ll get in this fic to being submissive lmao.
Words | 3k
Notes | Kinky smut will be coming up in either chapter 10 or 11😏
Ao3 link | <3
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Part 8
When you woke up, it took a moment for you to remember where you were, but the second your gaze settled on the couch you were laying on, your stomach dropped. You had cried to him— cried on him. The thought made you want to crawl into a hole from embarrassment, but you tried to ignore it. 
You could see now that he dressed you while you slept in the clothes you brought from his place and when you looked over at him, he was fully dressed in a suit, bent over the desk, completely focused on something. It didn’t seem like you moved enough to alert him that you were awake so you stayed still, trying to come up with something to say. Should you apologize? Pretend nothing happened? Make a self deprecating joke about it?
“I know you’re awake. I can practically hear you overthinking from here.” He said suddenly. 
“Sorry…” You muttered, deciding to sit up on the couch now. Picking at your cuticles, you watched him anxiously, waiting. Should you go to him? He hasn’t looked up from his work yet… Maybe he’s just waiting for you to walk over?
“Um, I- I’m sorry… for my behavior.” You forced the words out. “I don’t know what came over me.” He turned to face you, but after staring at you for a moment, decided to walk over. You stiffened as he approached you— were you going to be punished? Yelled at again? He sat down next to you, but still gave you enough space so you didn’t feel uncomfortable. 
“There is no need to apologize. I pushed you to that state so I cannot fault you for any of your actions.” He said, tone neutral. 
“I still shouldn’t have,” 
“No. You are allowed to have emotions.”
“I know, but- I made you uncomfortable.” You argued weakly.
“I am the only reason you acted like that in the first place. There is no need to apologize.”
“Okay… So things are fine?” You asked tentatively, scared of his answer. 
“Do not expect to do it again under any other circumstance.” His tone wasn’t mean, but rather he was just setting a boundary. You couldn’t help but notice that he said “under any other circumstance,” not just “any circumstance.”
“That didn’t answer my question.” You said with a small smile that he almost returned. 
“Yes.” 
“And you’re not mad that I made you change what you were going to do again?” 
“You hardly made me do anything.” He scoffed. 
“Okay… Good.” You said awkwardly, kind of feeling like you disappointed him by not being able to take the punishment. You also still felt bad for making him uncomfortable— for crying on him and laying on his chest. Your behavior made him call you a fucking pet name for christs sake. 
“Y-you… You called me-“ 
“Anything I said was to soothe you.” He said, suddenly colder than before. 
“So you weren’t really proud of me?” You asked quietly, making him sigh. 
“You took the punishment adequately.” 
“Oh.” You replied meekly, looking at your lap. You didn’t like the way he revoked his praise and affection so easily. He let out another quiet sigh, but you didn’t look up at him yet.  
“Your performance was… satisfactory.” It sounded like he had to force the words out. “Anything I said at the time was genuine, but do not expect to hear it again.” You looked up at him, but he couldn’t meet your gaze. 
“Thanks.” You muttered, giving him a small smile when he finally looked at you. “I liked when you called me that.” You said tentatively, carefully studying his reaction. 
“Do not get used to such affections.” 
“Okay… But if you ever decide you want to keep calling me that, I’m okay with it.” You shrugged and he narrowed his eyes. 
“I am not going to call you some silly name.” It felt like you were being reprimanded for requesting something childish. 
“I like the silly name. You don’t call anyone else by a silly name, do you?”
“Of course not.” He scoffed, almost offended. 
“Good. Just me then.”
“No, not you either.” He sighed, getting frustrated with your lack of acceptance with his answer. You pouted, giving him puppy dog eyes, hoping you didn’t look like a fool. “Stop that.” It seemed like the face was working though. 
“Please?”
“No.”
“Just once?” 
“Stop looking at me like that.”
“I will after you say it.” You said teasingly, giving him a small smile. 
“You are truly insufferable…” You waited eagerly, practically vibrating in anticipation. “Little one.” He muttered, looking away from you when your smile turned into a full blown grin. 
“It doesn’t count if I can’t hear you.”
“You’re pushing your luck.” He warned, but it almost seemed like he was teasing you back rather than giving you a genuine warning. 
“Please?” You pouted again, deciding to crawl onto his lap and straddle his legs, placing your arms on his shoulders as his hands settled on your hips. 
“Remind me why I brought you here?” He asked, annoyed. But not in a genuine way, in an almost playful way. 
“Because I make you come and I’m stupid enough to go to your place in broad daylight for you.”
“I suppose that’s true. I guess I do have a brave, eager pet. Wouldn’t you agree?” You nodded, eyes wide and breath caught in your throat from the new name. “Lost for words, little one?” He asked, tilting his head and rubbing his hands up and down your thighs. You let out a needy whine as you fisted his suit jacket and rolled your hips forward against his crotch. 
“Can- can I call you something too?” You asked, already breathless from the small amount of pleasure. 
“What did you have in mind?” 
“Your name?”
“Go ahead— try it out.” It took you a moment to register that he didn’t deny you like you thought he would. 
“Jonathan.” You whispered. 
“It doesn’t count if I can’t hear you.” He said teasingly. 
“Jonathan.” You whined, louder this time. 
“What do you think?” You hummed in thought. Something about the name just felt a little off. Maybe it was because it’s his full name rather than a nickname. 
“Jon.” You muttered to yourself. “Does anyone call you Jon?”
“Everyone refers to me as Dr. Crane or Scarecrow.” 
“Do you like “Jon?’”
“It is tolerable.” 
“Oh…” You said, visibly deflating in his lap. “I don’t have to if you don’t like it.” 
“I do not tolerate many things— that was a positive statement.” He quickly corrected himself, still making sure to keep his tone neutral though. 
“Oh. Do you tolerate me?” You asked, perking up a little again. 
“That is a foolish question that you already know the answer to.” 
“I know… I just like hearing it.” He sighed and for a moment you thought he wasn’t going to respond. 
“Yes, I tolerate you, little one.” A blush creeped up on your cheeks as you gave him a shy smile. “Satisfied?” You nodded, biting your lip to keep from grinning like an idiot. 
“Can I come today?” His brows shot up and you swore he was about to laugh.
“Someone’s getting bold.” 
“You didn’t let me last time.” You frowned. He hummed in thought and continued dragging his hands up and down your thighs, teasing you. 
“I suppose since you did such a good job taking your punishment, as well as staying quiet when we were in my office, you’re long overdue for a treat. Don’t you think?” 
“Yes please.” You said through a breath as you nodded in agreement. Snaking his hands behind you, he grabbed your ass to roughly push your hips against him, starting a slow, steady rhythm of grinding. 
“Whatever you want. Go ahead.” He said, making you falter as you stared at him in confusion. 
“What?” 
“Take whatever you want.” He explained, still leaving you dumbstruck. 
“Anything?” 
“Within reason.” He said teasingly. Flattening your palms on his chest, you slid them down before slowly dragging them back up, thinking. 
“Can I kiss you?” 
“There’s no need to ask. Take whatever you need.” He said softly, eyes fluttering down to your lips. Grabbing his tie, you gently pulled him forward into a kiss. His hands moved back to your hips, not gripping anymore, just holding you as you continued grinding against his crotch. You let out a low moan from the friction and brought your free hand up to pull his hair, making him groan in response. When you eventually grew too impatient, you whined and pulled back. 
“Please.”
“If you want something, just take it, little one.” He whispered, making you whine even louder. Suddenly getting up, he eyed you curiously as you took off your pants and underwear, then hesitantly laid him down on the couch. You moved slowly, giving him a chance to protest or change his mind. When he didn’t, you slowly kneeled over his chest, watching his eyes darken as he focused on your cunt. You waited again for him to tell you to get off, but he never did. So you shuffled forward even more, then tentatively lowered yourself onto his mouth. He dove in eagerly, lapping up your arousal and circling your clit with his tongue to tease you. 
When you suddenly lifted off of him, he let out a grunt of displeasure, making your cheeks heat up. But you wanted to do something more than just this. You took off your shirt then moved to the floor and started working on taking off his belt, asking for assistance on the upper half of his body. Once he was as bare as you— which you still weren’t used to yet— you climbed over him again, this time facing the other direction. He cursed under his breath as you laid down, your face only inches from his cock. 
The second you lowered yourself onto his mouth, his hands wrapped around your thighs, not letting you move away again. You whimpered at the sudden intense pleasure and brought your hand up to start stroking his length, teasing him. When his hips bucked up, you placed your forearm over his upper thigh and put some of your weight on it to hold him down. He growled against your cunt and dug his nails into your thighs, making your gasp, then chuckle as you leaned down to suck the tip in your mouth. 
You liked having this power over him. Deciding how much you wanted to tease him- torture him… it was addictive. You wanted to make him beg and whine and moan, so desperate for you that he loses all control. 
Hollowing your cheeks, you moved farther down his length, only pulling back up when the tip met the back of your mouth. The movements of his mouth grew sloppy, unable to focus with the stimulation on his cock, but it didn’t matter. You were practically grinding against his face anyway. 
When he pushed a finger in your drooling hole, you let out a muffled moan, not expecting it. In retaliation, you moved your hand to cup his balls, gently playing with them until his hips bucked and he moaned against your heat. Another finger was pushing inside, stretching you open and curling against your walls to emit even more arousal. 
To reward him, you decided to take him all the way down for as long as you could force yourself to stay there. He let out a choked moan at the tightness of your throat and the hand holding your thigh squeezed again. You did your best to breathe through your nose and relax, but after another few seconds, you couldn’t control your gag reflex anymore and had to pull off of him. 
“Baby— I’m not gonna last if you keep doing that.” He muttered against your clit and your hips jerked at his words. 
“Neither am I if you keep calling me that.” You whined. When you lifted yourself off of him again, he let out a grunt of disapproval, trying to grab your hips to pull you back. “Fuck me.” You said through a breath, making him instantly release your hips to sit up. When you got a good look at his face, you almost moaned at the sight. His lips and chin were slick with your arousal and his spit, and his glasses were fogged up enough that he had to take them off and set them on the floor to continue.  
“How do you want it?” You bit your lip in thought. 
“Dealer's choice.” You finally replied and it seemed like he was about to protest, but decided against it. Grabbing a cushion from the back of the couch, he placed it down, then maneuvered you so your hips were over it as you laid on your stomach. He leaned over you, breath fanning against your neck as he lined up, then placed a soft kiss behind your ear. 
“Ready?” He whispered. 
“Please.” You didn’t have to tell him again before he was breaching your hole, making you whimper at how fucking full you felt in this position with your legs together. “Jesus-“ You choked out as he stilled inside you, buried as far as your cunt would allow. 
“Fuck me, Jon.” You said breathlessly and he cursed under his breath, but obeyed. He slid out slowly, still giving you a chance to adjust, then pushed back in just as slow. 
“God- You feel so good.” He moaned, forehead resting on your shoulder blade. “So fucking warm and wet, and a perfect fit for my cock, aren’t you?” You nodded as you scrambled for purchase when his thrusts sped up. “Like my own custom made fuck doll, huh, baby?” 
“Oh god yes.” You sobbed out, already feeling close from hearing that pet name again. He let out a low chuckle when he felt your walls fluttering desperately around his length. 
“Close already? Why’s that?” You couldn’t get a response out through your moans, let alone think of one in the first place. “Is it cause you like it when I pin you down like this? Force my cock in your tight little cunt and fuck you like a cheap whore. Is that it?” You let out another sob that turned into a vulgar moan when he suddenly grabbed your hair and yanked your head back. With his lips brushing your ear, he whispered, “Or maybe it’s when I call you baby. Is that what’s getting you so hot and bothered?” You did your best to nod with his grip in your hair, but he wasn’t satisfied. 
“C’mon, use your big girl words. I know you can.” He cooed, making your cunt pulse around him. 
“Jon,” You whined, squeezing your eyes shut as your mouth opened in a silent moan. “Please make me come- I’m so close, Jon, I need it.” You whimpered. He suddenly pulled out, making you whine loudly. He ignored your protest though and flipped you over, hooking your legs over his hips as he leaned back down and slid inside again. 
“Keep your eyes on me when you come, do you understand?” You nodded eagerly and he continued pushing in and out, getting deep enough that you knew you’d be able to see his cock bulging your stomach.  
“God- you look so pretty like this.” He whispered, eyes rapidly trailing over your face. You let out a low whine, feeling your face heat up. 
“Say my name.” The request was so quiet that you thought you misheard him. “Say it.” Not a request— a plea. 
“Jon,” You whispered, moving your hands to pull on his hair as your eyes fluttered to his lips. “Please kiss me.” He obeyed eagerly and you moaned into his mouth from the intensity of it— of everything really. A hand on your clit made you jolt with a surprised sound that he swallowed eagerly. 
“Oh god- Please can I come?” You whined, barely able to get the words out since he wouldn’t break the kiss to let you speak. “Please, Jon.” He pulled back, eyes squeezed shut as he panted, never stopping the movement of his hips or fingers. 
“Go ahead, baby,” He whispered as his eyes fluttered open to look at you. “Come for me- but remember what I said.” What you would’ve originally thought was a warning, was actually just a reminder— the closest he would ever get to saying please. 
Your orgasm crashed over you suddenly and you did your best to keep your eyes open through the pleasure. He stared down at you with furrowed brows and slightly parted lips, letting some moans escape. 
“Please come.” You gasped out, orgasm just barely starting to fade. “Please, Jon.” His lips parted even wider and then he was squeezing his eyes shut, still trying to keep them open though. His hips stilled completely inside you, staying deep to make sure you took every last drop of his come. 
When his body finally relaxed and he rested his forehead on your chest, you played with his hair. Both of you were still panting, a little sweaty, and definitely come drunk, but he didn’t seem to care at all. He swiftly turned you both over as he moved the couch cushion back, his cock never leaving you. You let yourself lay down on his body, your cheek on his chest, listening to his heartbeat, and one of his hands came up to pet your hair, the other rubbing up and down your back lightly. 
There was a nagging thought, deep in the back of your brain, that you were trying to ignore, but it was growing louder the longer you laid there. This felt too good to be true. Like you’re dreaming and going to wake up back in your cell again. 
“Jon?” You asked quietly. 
“Hm?”
You didn’t want this to be a dream. You wanted him to hold you again and again, let you fall asleep in his arms, have normal conversations about everything and nothing. But most of all, you wanted him to feel the same way. To long for you so hard that his chest aches at the thought of losing you, the way yours does. You wanted him to— 
“I-“ You had to stop yourself from saying the thought that just popped into your head because you were scared of how he’d react to such a deep confession. “I just…” 
“I know.” He whispered, heart beating faster and harder in his chest. “Me too.”
Part 10
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ghostboybrainrot · 1 year
Text
DPxDC Ghost Zone Amity AU Part 2
Part 1   Part 3  Part 4  AO3
Edit: I finally got around to adding this to AO3, link above.
Wow! I am completely blown away by the reaction the first part! It’s the first fic idea I ever posted. Thank you so much for all the likes and messages. I have a lot of ideas for this AU but I‘m new to writing so please be patient. I also would love to hear anyone’s ideas.
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Batman wanted to see the portal himself. Because of course he did. Nosy idiot couldn't let them handle it. And John Constantine just knew the bat was gonna make things harder on him.
"Can you disable it?" Gotham's knight asked.
"Of course not! This is some sci-fi bullshit and I don't do sci-fi. I do Magic, thank you very much.”
"You said you could sense death coming from it."
Constantine ran his hand through his hair, frustrated.
"Yeah but that doesn't mean I know how! This shouldn't be possible. And it radiates Death, capital D. This isn't just a device that has been exposed to death. It's owned by the Dead.
A grunt was all Constantine got as a reply, as the knight continued to examine the machine.
"Do you know where it goes?"
"To the DEAD! Haven't you been listening?! You know the Underworld? Hereafter? Netherworld? Hell with two L's? Hel with one L? Purgatory? Pandemonium? Hades? Tartarus? Any of these ringing a bell?"
Batman does not dignify the outburst with a response but he turns toward Constantine for the first time since they entered the building, narrowing his eyes.
"Which one?"
Constantine waved his hands noncommittally, "Eh, could be any of them. Could be ALL of them. They aren't completely separate. Like different branches of the same company. Different regional managers but all equally shitty.
Batman grunts again, turning back to the swirling mass. After a moment, he starts to fiddle with something on his belt. Constantine couldn't see what he was doing but he already didn't like it. Every time the bat investigated something that Constantine thought was better off left alone, his day would inevitably get MUCH worse. For the millionth time, he wonders why he bothers to associate with these idiots.
Batman pulls what he was messing with from beneath his cloak. His grapple gun? Constantine took several steps back. Nope. Nope, he definitely isn't gonna like this. 
Instead of firing the gun, Batman slowly pulled at the hook loosening the wire until he had roughly 10 ft of it coiled in his hand. Then without any hesitation, he approached the swirling green, tossing the hook inside. It promptly disappeared, quietly, as though it had simply sunk into murky water.
They both waited. No sound could be heard except the ambient buzzing of electronics coming from the large machine. Batman stood a few feet from the portal, watching the line intensely. He had braced himself as though he expected the line to snap taut at any moment and pull him in. After roughly a minute and no such thing happened, Batman slowly reeled in the line feeding it back into the gun.
The hook came into view, no worse for wear. None of the green substance lingered on it. After briefly examining it, Batman clipped it back to his belt. Constantine was slightly disappointed that it hadn't come back ablaze or melting, only because it would help him narrow it down. Having it come back unscathed didn't really tell him where it led. Then again the fact that it wasn’t instantly destroyed from coming in contact with the portal was probably a good thing.
"I think you gotta put worms on the end if you wanna catch something Bats." Constantine joked. He knew the man wouldn't react but couldn't help it. 
To his surprise, John heard a chuckle from directly behind him. It startled him but he did his best to not show it. He knew who it was and didn't want to give him the satisfaction.
Boston Brand, Deadman, slowly floated into view in front of the magician. He was watching Batman but directed his comment toward John.
"I was expecting the Bat to get dragged in! A little disappointed if I'm bein' honest." Deadman laughed.
"I'd be lying if I didn't feel somewhat similar. When'd you get in?"
"Not too long ago," the ghost said conversationally, "I did a quick lap around the crater. Phew! That thing is huge!"
"No kidding? I hadn't noticed." The magician snarked, pulling a cigarette out and placing it between his lips. He wouldn't light up in here. He wouldn't want to piss off the Bat but the familiar feel on his lips brought him a small amount of comfort.
Batman seemed to have noticed Constantine's one sided conversation. He turned to stare at the occultist, his eyes narrowing again. 
"Boston?"
"Who else?" Constantine grumbled.
Suddenly, without warning, he felt a cold wave rush over him as the ghost phased into his body. He felt his mouth open, his cigarette fell to the ground, and a voice that wasn't quite his own spoke.
"Hiya Batman! Long time no see! I heard you guys could use a little help?" John's face grinned without his approval. The voice coming from John had a Brooklyn accent and was entirely too cheerful for his liking.
Batman nodded, unsurprised by the English man’s sudden accent and demeanor change. He gestured over his shoulder toward the machine.
"What can you tell me about this device?"
"Umm..." John's legs brought him a little closer and his hand came up to his chin as though he was thinking hard. "I mean it's definitely spooky, I get kindof a weird vibe from it but other than that. Meh." He shrugged. "Not really my area, Bats."
"Does it seem dangerous?"
"Honestly? I don't think so. Like Constantine said it definitely radiates Death but not like in like in a scary way. Hard to describe. Feels kinda like a nap after a long day, ya know?"
Batman didn't respond. There was a good chance he didn’t know. Constantine had never know the man to take a break. Did he even know what a nap was?
"Would you be willing to investigate?"
"Ya mean like go in? I suppose. Not like I'm getting any deader. Ha!"
As quickly as it appeared, the cold sensation that gripped him vanished and John Constantine's body was his own again.
"Bloody ghost! You made me drop my cig." He bent down to retrieve the cigarette, brushed it off, and put it back in his mouth. John hated when Deadman did that. Which was probably the reason he did it. He could have just asked John to translate. Or better yet ask him to magic Batman's eyes so he could see the ghost! But Boston loved to see John frazzled. As annoying as it was to be on the receiving end, John couldn’t begrudge the ghost his fun. He knew how lonely it could be being dead in the land of the living. No one even knowing he was there. Constantine may not be dead but he’d been around it enough to know how isolating it could be.
"Sorry John!" The ghost called back goodnaturedly, already heading toward the portal. "Wish me luck!"
The ghost flew through the portal and the room was quiet once again. Batman couldn't see the ghost had disappeared but he followed John's gaze toward the machine and waited. Accurately guessing he had already passed through.
After a short moment, Constantine wondered if he had enough time to go outside for a quick smoke. But before he could decide, Deadman's head poked back through the swirl of green. The rest of him followed close behind, looking exactly the same as when he left.
"Well?" John asked impatiently.
"Seems safe enough. It leads to another portal on the other side. No monsters or anything."
Batman spoke up, "What's he saying?"
Constantine, taking a page out of Batman's book, ignored the knight continuing to address the ghost. "And? Where does it come out?"
"That's the weird thing. I think it's just a garage."
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That’s all I have for now! Let me know how i did and what you think should happen next.
I have a lot of ideas on what happens to GZ Amity, and coincidentally humanity as a whole, as a result of it getting stuck. I like to think that over time this creates a whole subspecies of liminal humans and GZ Amity ends up giving a solar(ecto?) punk vibe.
Jack and Maddie are LOVING living in the ghost zone. After the initial shock, and a short adjustment period, they throw themselves into their research just as hard as before but instead of focusing on weapons they focus on researching the properties of the ghost zone. They use what they learn to better the lives of the residents of the town.
Amity Parkers don’t leave when they die. Old Evelyn Baker is still there like 300 years in the future. And because no one leaves, the town expands.
Blob ghosts wander around the city like stray cats. People treat them like pets. The Fentons create a blob collar especially for ecto-pets that is designed to stay on despite their semi-intangible nature. Using that design they are able to make equipment that will automatically phase WITH the user without having to dedicate extra energy to it.
I like the idea of Vlad coming around eventually. I think it would be funny for liminal!Amity Parkers gaining a resistance to overshadowing. And because Amity isn’t really part of the US anymore, his vast wealth doesn’t really do him any good. So here he is sad and alone. All his plans have failed and his power is rendered almost entirely useless. He can still overshadow people in the living world and the US is still a capitalist hellscape so his money is good there. But without any sort of end goal it loses its appeal. Eventually, he’ll come crawling back to Amity. 
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xxthought-thiefxx · 10 months
Text
psst hey ao3 might be down but the donation page for the company itself (OTW) is still up here.
No need to wait till this is all over if you wanna support them! [EDIT: update from ao3 says it’s now down as well :(( I’ll try to keep track and say if the situation changes. thanks @humbledarkness for mentioning this in the replies]
And remember, ao3 being down for god knows how long might suck but the longer it takes, the more time/resources the hackers waste attacking the site without gaining any profit themselves. So it’ll be worth it in the end. (more info about the ddos attack here)
In the meantime, check out the fics here on tumblr if you haven’t already, or try your luck with the wayback machine by putting in the link of your fic.
Also make sure not to go harassing any groups of people just because of these hackers. They might be lying about their reasons for the attack but even if they’re not, blaming random people online just because they share the same supposed religion of these hackers is not okay. Cut that shit out. Ao3 is supposed to be a safe space for everyone, and the community should be the same even with the site down.
I wish you all a lovely day despite what’s happening and hope some of this was helpful <3
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weemssapphic · 8 months
Note
Hello, friend!
Would you be so kind as to write a one-shot where r is a local boudoir photographer in Jericho and Larissa gets a shoot done(for whatever reason)? Then it becomes an often thing and r just can't stand seeing such a beautiful woman single ;) maybe some fluffy smut at the end?
A/N: HELLO FRIEND. i'm actually embarrassed looking at the date on this ask and i request your sincerest apologies. i really loved writing this and i hope you enjoy it!
All My Pictures of You
Words: ~5.4k | ao3 link in title
Content/warnings: mutual pining, boudoir photography, lingerie, nsfw (smut) - vaginal fingering
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Larissa sat in her car in front of the small cottage, her gaze shifting nervously to her watch. 2:57 pm. Her appointment was at 3. She still had a few minutes - she still had time to turn around, to reverse out of the long, winding drive and send an apologetic cancellation email.
No, Larissa told herself firmly. She would go through with this, she wouldn’t back out now. With a deep breath, Larissa wiped her clammy palms on her skirt and stepped out of her car, striding up to the door of the cottage and knocking firmly.
You opened the door quickly, as if you’d been waiting for her, a wide smile on your face as you introduced yourself and gestured for Larissa to come in. Her heart stuttered in her chest as she gave you a once over - you’d been so kind and attentive over the phone, and your voice had been rather attractive, but she hadn’t expected you to be so beautiful. Now she found herself even more nervous than before.
“Please, sit for a moment,” you said warmly, guiding Larissa into your small, homey living room. She perched herself awkwardly at the edge of your couch, her back stiff as a board. “What would you like to drink? I have water, coffee, tea, wine, champagne…”
Larissa clasped her hands in her lap, picking subconsciously at her cuticles. “Wine would be lovely, I suppose.” She was definitely going to need a glass if she was going to get through this afternoon.
“White or red? Wait - let me guess.” You tapped your finger on your lip, giving Larissa a not-so-subtle once-over that had Larissa blushing profusely. “Red?”
Larissa nodded, her heart rate picking up considerably at your adorably wide smile as you sauntered into what she could only assume was your kitchen, before returning a few moments later with a large glass of wine and a glass of water.
She accepted the wine gratefully, muttering out a nervous “thank you” as you sat down across from her and took a sip of your water.
“Before we get started, I just wanted to go over some of the notes I made during our call last week, just to make sure we’re on the same page.”
Larissa nodded, watching as you plucked a notebook off the coffee table and set it on your lap.
“Seeing as you said that this is your first boudoir shoot, I want it to be as comfortable as possible for you. My only ‘rule’ is that you speak up if you feel uncomfortable or self-conscious, and we can go ahead and work through that or stop the session, okay?”
Larissa nodded again, taking a healthy swig of her wine and feeling her cheeks glow with warmth.
“Now I know you’ve come with your hair and makeup already done, as you’d said you would, but I can do touch-ups throughout the afternoon if you’d like. You said you wanted to do the shoot in lingerie, is that still the case?”
“Yes,” she replied breathlessly, feeling more than a little flustered at the prospect of undressing in front of a stranger - a very attractive stranger.
“I assume you’re wearing it right now?” You raised an eyebrow and Larissa nodded sheepishly, her cheeks tinged pink. “I’ll show you where the bathroom is, then, for you to freshen up and get ready, and then we can move into my studio space. Do you have any questions for me before we get started?”
Larissa shook her head no and watched you stand, following your lead as you padded down the hall and opened a door for her. “Take all the time you need.”
Stepping into the bathroom, Larissa shut the door behind her and slumped back against it, squeezing her eyes shut.
She still didn’t know what had compelled her to book a boudoir shoot. She supposed it came down to a desire to feel young and attractive again - years of all-nighters to catch up on work, the stress of running an entire school coupled with dealing with children and constantly putting out fires left her feeling more than a bit run-down. Her age was showing, her crows feet and laugh lines becoming more prominent with each passing day, and she couldn’t help but feel a bit self-conscious.
The photographer had gotten back to her quickly and suggested an introductory call - despite her nerves, she felt too bad to call the whole thing off and say “never mind”, so she’d gone through with the call. You’d seemed nice enough, very enthusiastic but also very considerate when she’d explained she’d never done something like this before.
And now, Larissa stood in your bathroom, slowly removing her clothing with shaking hands to reveal a red lace bodysuit. It wasn’t particularly revealing as far as lingerie went, yet Larissa blushed furiously as she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. It wasn’t that she didn’t find herself beautiful - despite her reservations about her own aging, she did possess a certain confidence in her appearance. But the thin lace left little to the imagination, particularly in comparison to her usual, more conservative attire, and Larissa was about to pose in front of a total stranger with a camera - the implications were just now beginning to hit her.
It’s now or never. Larissa opened the bathroom door almost robotically, slipping out into the narrow hallway. You seemed to have heard the creak of the floorboards, because you poked your head out of a room at the end of the hallway and beamed at her - her heart skipped a beat and she swallowed nervously.
“I’m in here,” you said brightly, waiting for Larissa to walk the length of the hallway and join you in your studio. 
The studio space was a large, well-lit room at the back of your cottage. Lots of natural light filtered in through the window, spilling onto a beautiful, vintage-looking rug. An intricately framed mirror stood across from a large bed with a plush, velvet headboard that took up much of the wall.
Larissa didn’t have much time to think about how awkward she felt - from the moment she stepped into the room you were talking up a storm, walking her through the room, showing her your camera and equipment, cracking jokes. She couldn’t help but be enamored with you, and she found herself relaxing slightly as your enthusiasm began to rub off on her.
“I was thinking we could start at the window, the lighting is really great there and it doesn’t feel quite as intimate as shooting in the bed.” You directed Larissa towards the window seat - she perched at the edge of the cushions, unsure of how to pose, but you took over for her in an instant. “Can you lean back against the wall a bit? And turn your head to the right? Just like that.”
Larissa followed your instructions, hearing the shutter of your camera click, her face flushing. She was certain she looked ridiculous, but you kept instructing her to pose and encouraging her happily as if she wasn’t blushing like a schoolgirl - after a few minutes, Larissa found her blush fading slightly, feeling more confident in herself.
~~~
You felt the air leave your lungs when you saw Larissa standing in your hallway in nothing but a lacy bodysuit, looking terribly yet adorably awkward. The next minutes as you started the shoot were no better - you were definitely overcompensating for your attraction to the woman with over-the-top enthusiasm, over-explaining your process and trying to bring the blonde just a bit of comfort.
Being fairly good at your job, you could tell that Larissa was beginning to relax - she wasn’t blushing as much, her posing was less tense, her smile came more naturally. It was then that you were able to admire her beauty in full - and, God, what a stunning woman she was.
She was perched on the window seat, overlooking your lush garden. Sunlight hit her face at the perfect angle, casting a soft shadow across the left side of her face and creating a subtle halo around her perfectly coiffed white hair. Her eyes sparkled like sapphires, bright and clear, and her pale, freckled skin was practically glowing in contrast to the red lace.
You tried your best not to ogle her - she was your paying client, after all, and the last thing you wanted was to make her feel uncomfortable. You normally had no trouble with this, but you’d also never been this attracted to a client before.
“You are very beautiful,” you whispered - the words left your mouth before you could stop them, and your heart skipped a beat as Larissa’s gaze met yours, those deep blue eyes widening and her lips parting slightly as your compliment registered in her brain. Then she smiled, ducking her head shyly, and it was the most breathtaking thing you’d ever seen - you quickly snapped a few photos, Larissa’s smile widening as she heard the sound of the shutter.
~~~
“I’ll upload the photos tonight and start the editing process,” you told Larissa as you led her to your front door. “I have a light workload this week so I should be able to send you the photos in 2-3 days, and then if you want physical copies of any of them, I can help you get those printed.”
“Thank you, I appreciate it,” Larissa replied with a genuine smile - it was your turn to blush. “I’ll be awaiting your email, then.”
“I’ll try not to keep you waiting,” you teased lightly, noting how Larissa’s pupils widened slightly at your tone.
You watched Larissa walk to her car, noting how long and toned her legs looked in her heels - you should have asked her to keep those on, you thought to yourself. Closing the door, you rushed back into your studio and grabbed your camera, then settled on your couch with your laptop - you couldn’t wait to edit her photos.
It was something that kept you busy for the entire evening, and most of the following morning. One of your regulars canceled on you at the last minute, so you ended up having some extra time before your next late afternoon shoot to finish up the editing. You wanted to be done quickly for Larissa, eager for her reaction to the pictures, but it was proving to be quite difficult - your eyes would get stuck on each picture, drinking in the details and getting so lost in simply looking that the editing took ages.
You’d never been this affected by a client before. Sure, you took pictures of beautiful, scantily clad women all the time, you’d been doing it for years at this point. And some of them you did find really attractive. But they were still just clients to you - beautiful, certainly, but strictly off-limits.
But Larissa? There was something about her that captivated you, that made it nearly impossible to think straight - it was entirely inappropriate, but every time you’d caught her smiling in your direction, you’d been overcome with the urge to lunge forward and kiss her senseless. Even now, looking at the pictures you’d taken, your heart skipped a beat.
There was one in particular that you couldn’t seem to stop sneaking glances at. Larissa was lying on her back, her long legs bent, her arms draped over her head. You’d taken the picture from above, and you’d been cracking jokes hoping to make her laugh. And laugh she did - it was loud and unabashed, and it left her with a beaming grin stretching from ear to ear and little crinkles around her eyes. The bridge of her nose crinkled the tiniest bit, bright blue eyes scrunching up. You were grateful for your years of experience, because the sight briefly made you forget how to work your camera - your finger worked on autopilot to snap photos while your brain short-circuited.
Once you finished the editing, you uploaded the photos to your cloud and sent Larissa an email with the link - butterflies erupted in your stomach as your finger hovered over the “send” button, and you realized how fucked you truly were.
~~~
Late the following afternoon, you had another shoot - Sam, a woman you’d taken pictures of on occasion and developed an easy rapport with. After she left, you decided to make yourself some dinner before doing some editing for the evening. Just as the water for your pasta had started to boil, your phone began to vibrate in your pocket.
“Hello?”
The voice at the other end of the line - smooth, sultry, British - made your heart stutter in your chest.
“Hello, this is Larissa. Weems.”
“Oh, hi! I’m assuming you’re calling about the edited photos I sent you?” You tried hard to keep your voice level, to treat her as you did every other woman you took photos of - it proved to be a challenge however, as your voice rose nervously in pitch. Oh, God, what if she was unhappy with them? What if she hated them? What if- 
“Yes, I wanted to thank you again. I wasn’t expecting them to turn out so well, I- well, I’m unsure what I was expecting, but they really have turned out beautifully.”
“I’m glad to hear that.” They’re only beautiful because you’re beautiful. “If there are any that you want physical copies of, you can send me an email with the file name and we can go over exactly what you’re looking for?” You paced about your kitchen, filled with too much nervous energy to stand still.
“Oh, yes. There are a few, I suppose. Actually… I wanted to know if there is any way we could do a second shoot?”
A second shoot? 
You felt your pulse skyrocket.
“A second shoot? I mean, yeah, of course - whatever you want. Do you have a day in mind already?”
Larissa hesitated a moment before speaking again. “Perhaps next Saturday, the same time as this week?”
“Sure, Larissa.” You trailed off, caught off-guard - you’d thought (at least you’d hoped) that Larissa had become more comfortable by the end of her shoot, but you hadn’t dared dream you’d ever see her again. “Is there something you were unhappy with or…?”
“I just really enjoyed myself and… I think this could be good for me.” You could practically hear the blush in her tone - it made your stomach flip.
“Oh. Yeah. I mean, that’s the goal with these photos, you know?” You paused for a moment, your next words slipping out before you could stop yourself. “Did your partner like them?”
“Oh, no it’s nothing like that… I don’t have a partner.”
You could feel your breath catch in your lungs as you processed her words, scrambling to come up with a suitable answer as you worried you’d made things awkward. “Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to assume. I mean I just thought- you know, you’re so beautiful, I assumed…” Way to make things even more awkward…
“It’s quite alright, my dear.” My dear. Swoon. Her voice was filled with warmth, bordering on teasing, and it made your stomach do a somersault.
“I’ll see you next week then? If you still want to, that is.”
“Yes. I would love to. Thank you.”
“Thank you,” you whispered, before hanging up the phone.
~~~
This time, when Larissa walked up to the front door of your cottage, she felt a little more confident. She knew what to expect now - and honestly, the first shoot hadn’t been as awkward or humiliating as she’d thought it would be. Really, the photos had turned out so well - they’d made her feel sexy, they’d made her feel young again. And you’d been very patient with her, always making sure to direct her into poses so that she never felt helpless - there was a reason your clients spoke so highly of you in online reviews, she supposed.
But there was something else. The way you’d looked at her during that first shoot, particularly when you thought she wasn’t watching, had stirred up feelings inside of Larissa that she hadn’t felt in years. She felt desirable. Under your gaze, she felt attractive - it felt natural to pose in lingerie when you were the one watching her. And it was insane, really - she didn’t even know you, and you were simply doing your job. But Larissa couldn’t help but feel like there was something more there.
You let Larissa into your cottage and, after offering her a drink, directed her to get changed and meet you in the studio. Larissa didn’t miss the way you blushed and squirmed when she stepped into the studio in a matching set - a mesh, sage green bra and panties. 
She still found herself a bit shy about her body - her stomach was on display a lot more this time around, and she crossed her arms subconsciously over her torso.
“That, uh, that color really suits you.”
It was Larissa’s turn to blush, and she smiled a shy, closed-lip smile. You directed her to the floor in front of the mirror, explaining that you would love to use the mirror for some shots. Larissa agreed and sat down, drawing her legs up to her chest to hide the stomach rolls that formed as she sat.
“None of that,” you teased, tapping her knee and instructing her to stretch out her legs. Larissa leaned back on her elbows, her body now on almost full display for you. Your eyes roamed her bare skin - just briefly - and you bit your lip. “You have a gorgeous figure, Larissa. Really, most women would kill to look like you.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that…” Larissa felt her stomach flip at your compliment. You gave her a look that she couldn’t quite place, your eyes briefly flicking over her body. Part of her did feel self-conscious but another part, a part that was quickly taking over, felt alive under your gaze. She felt her body come to life as she posed for you, and she almost found herself forgetting there was even a camera present - she often looked past the lens, directly at you, admiring you in your element, basking in the soft smiles you would shoot at her when you caught her looking.
“Um, Larissa?” you asked suddenly, lowering your camera slightly and cocking your head to the side.
“Hmm?”
“Could we try… maybe we could try taking your hair down for a few photos?” You bit your lip and watched intently for Larissa’s reaction - her eyes widened at your suggestion and you immediately started to backtrack. “I mean, it looks like it was a bitch to put up so I totally get it if you’d rather not! And I mean it looks amazing, you look really beautiful, so it’s nice as is!”
Larissa did have to admit your suggestion caught her off-guard - her updo had become an integral part of her uniform, another part of her mask. She’d figured out long ago that it suited her, gave her an untouchable air of sophistication, and it became a staple for her - there were few people in her life today who’d seen her with her hair down, and so wearing her hair down had begun to feel very intimate.
But something about you, about the entire situation, felt different. She felt safe here in this little studio space. So, after a moment’s hesitation, she smiled and nodded. “I can take it down. It’ll take a few minutes though, there are quite a few pins.”
“I could help - I mean, only if you want me to, of course, sorry.”
Larissa couldn’t help but grin at your chaotic nature. “I would appreciate your help.”
You set your camera on the floor and scooted closer, settling on your knees behind Larissa and running your fingers over the intricate curls. “Wow,” you breathed, before gently beginning to pry pins out of her hair - Larissa felt her cheeks go pink, unused to so much praise.
Your fingers danced over her curls, setting them free one by one. The pressure from the pins was slowly being released, and she couldn’t help but let out a soft moan of pleasure. She felt embarrassed by the noise, but it seemed to embolden you - you began to gently massage her scalp.
“Is this okay?” you whispered.
“Mmh… yes, it is.” Larissa let out another hum of pleasure and leaned into your touch.
“Why do you wear it up like that if it’s so tight?” Your voice was curious as the pads of your fingers reached the muscles at the nape of her neck.
“I just do.” Larissa shrugged, another soft moan escaping her lips - this time, she didn’t try to hold it back. “I found it suits me. And I enjoy the process, I like having my routine and my structure.”
You carded your fingers through loose, platinum curls, draping the long locks over Larissa’s shoulders and moving around to face her. Your eyes were wide as they roamed over Larissa’s face, over long lengths of hair - your cheeks turning red in real time.
“Uh, looks good. The light is kind of coming in from the side, if I go over there and you kind of pose in front of the mirror, I think that would look cool. Maybe we could do some standing shots?”
Larissa grinned, very aware of how you were trying to cover up your own embarrassment at the sudden intimacy. How endearing, she thought. 
After the shoot, when she was sitting in her car, Larissa realized just how good that intimacy had felt. She craved it, and most importantly, she craved it with you. What she didn’t know was that you were sitting on your couch, your stomach flipping as you reviewed the photos you’d taken - completely smitten by her and wondering when you’d get to see her again.
~~~
You did that dance for months - every so often, Larissa would book a shoot, seeming to become more and more comfortable each time. Her lingerie became more revealing, her posing more confident - she often wore her hair down, once she even decided to forgo makeup. Both of you flirted - just a little - dancing around each other, perfectly in sync but never daring to go for more. Every so often your hand would linger just a little longer than it should when you’d direct Larissa into a pose, every so often Larissa’s gaze would travel over your own body as you snapped photo after photo.
Today’s shoot was no different. Larissa wore a white teddy, nearly see-through, with lace around the cups and a deep plunge. Her hair hung in loose waves down her back, one side pinned back from her face. It had stolen the breath from your lungs when she’d entered the room and you’d busied yourself with your equipment as you tried to compose yourself.
Larissa sat down on the bed, legs crossed demurely as she waited for you, hands clasped in her lap. Little did you know that today’s shoot would be very different to the rest - Larissa would make sure of that.
“Do you want to start on the bed today then?” you asked, glancing over at Larissa as you fiddled with some settings on your camera.
“Yes, I think so,” Larissa purred, her voice sending a shiver down your spine.
“Whenever you’re ready.” You tried for a casual smile, hating the way your voice broke slightly - it was getting harder and harder to keep your composure around the woman.
Larissa shifted slightly on the bed and you stepped forward to get a closer angle. The blonde looked straight into the camera, eyes seductive and heavy-lidded, and uncrossed her legs - you snapped a few photos. Then, at an almost glacial pace, she spread her legs, a smirk playing upon her lips.
You were so focussed on her full, red lips that it took you a moment before you glanced down between her legs - the sight had your mouth going dry. Larissa’s lingerie was crotchless - there, between soft, milky thighs, was her pussy, bare and glistening with arousal.
Larissa rested her hands on her thighs, gently squeezing the soft flesh there, before trailing her palms slowly inward and upward, subtly spreading her legs even farther, spreading herself open in the process.
You watched, mesmerized. As if pulled by an invisible force, you found yourself setting down your camera and crawling up the bed towards Larissa, until you were nestled between her thighs. You could feel heat radiating off her in waves - it made desire pool in your core, like a tightening coil. Leaning in, you stopped until your face was inches away from hers, until you could feel her breath fan across your face. Your eyes were glued to her lips - red and plush - as you closed the gap, your eyelids fluttering shut as your lips connected with her own - soft and warm.
A soft sigh escaped your throat when Larissa began to kiss you back, moving her mouth against your own. Her hands landed on the curve of your hips, causing your heart to flutter madly. You pressed forward, your hand resting on Larissa’s shoulder as you guided her backwards - Larissa followed your lead until she was lying on her back and you were hovering over her, your knee inches away from her warm core. “I’m very attracted to you, Larissa,” you mumbled against her lips.
“Do you do this with all the women you take pictures of?” Larissa’s voice was deep and sultry, her eyes half-lidded, but you could tell from the way her fingers twitched against your hips, the absence of her breath against your face, that your answer mattered to her.
“It never even crossed my mind until I met you…” It was true. You’d never desired another person this much before, and you’d certainly never dreamed of pursuing a client. Except Larissa. Larissa, who was staring up at you with wide eyes and rosy cheeks. Larissa, who in that moment wrapped her arms around your neck and pulled you down, her lips meeting yours in a hungry, passionate kiss that stole the breath from your lungs.
It was as if Larissa was trying to devour you, her lips moving against yours in desperation. She deepened the kiss, her tongue swirling around yours as her hands found purchase in your hair, nails gently scratching your scalp.
You let out a deep groan as Larissa arched her back off the bed, pushing her body up into your own and letting out a soft whine.
“Fuck, Larissa.”
“Please.”
That one syllable was so needy, so filled with desire that your thighs clenched together of their own accord, the heat between your bodies becoming absolutely unbearable. Your hand traveled lower and lower, caressing Larissa’s waist, her hips, her thigh, your fingertips memorizing the softness of her skin - every dip and curve of her body. Your hand reached her inner thigh and Larissa let out a gasp, her legs twitching. 
“Can I?” you breathed, pausing in your ministrations. You were met with a breathy ‘yes’ and an enthusiastic nod of Larissa’s head - then with a whimper as your fingers brushed against her wet folds.
Larissa tightened her grip on your hips, squirming slightly beneath you as your fingers explored her cunt, trailing up her slit to gather the juices there and smearing them over her clit. 
“Mmh, right there, keep going.” Larissa’s voice was becoming breathier as she began to roll her hips. It was so incredibly hot, how you could see the muscles in her thighs and stomach tighten as she ground her pelvis into your fingers. 
Larissa arched her back off the bed, tilting her head back as she let out a low groan when your fingers began to tease her entrance. “P-please,” she whimpered.
You happily obliged, letting out a moan of your own when you slipped a digit inside of her hole and felt her walls clench needily around it, drawing you in. 
“You feel so good.” You leaned down to press your lips to Larissa’s - the kiss was hungry and desperate and hot, the blonde’s breathing labored. Her hands slipped under your shirt and clawed at your back, leaving angry red scratches in their wake - the pain felt delicious and you dragged Larissa’s bottom lip between your teeth in response. 
Your finger pumped in and out of Larissa at a steady pace and you soon added a second finger. The pads of your fingers found her sweet spot while your thumb began to flick gently across her clit, drawing a whine from her throat.
You drew back slightly from the kiss to catch a glimpse of Larissa’s face - she took your breath away. Her face and chest were flushed, her eyes were heavy-lidded, mascara-coated lashes fluttering slightly, lips parted as her jaw went slack. When she noticed you watching her, the corners of her lips quirked up slightly into a seductive smile, and she squeezed your waist.
“You’re gorgeous,” you breathed.
“Then kiss me.”
You didn’t need to be told twice - you descended upon her again, pouring all of your passion and desire into the kiss as your fingers curled inside of her and your thumb massaged her sensitive clit. You swallowed her moans as she got closer and closer to the edge, fucking her through her first orgasm - and keeping up your pace even as her thighs trembled and her nails dug into your skin.
A second orgasm quickly followed, then a third, then Larissa was gently pushing your hand away.
“I need a moment,” she admitted between deep, labored breaths, a soft smile on her face as her eyelids fluttered shut.
You happily scooted up the bed to join her, settling next to her and pressing a kiss to her temple as she nestled into your side. Propping yourself up on your elbow, you watched Larissa come down from her high, allowing yourself to freely admire her stunning features.
“Larissa?” you whispered, resting your hand on her hip and gently stroking the soft skin.
Larissa hummed in response, burrowing her head deeper into the crook of your neck and placing a kiss to the side of your throat - it sent a shiver down your spine.
“I have a confession to make.” You bit your lip, your pulse hammering as Larissa leaned back slightly to fix you with a curious gaze, her eyes wide and blue and gleaming, kiss-swollen lips parted slightly. “I have wanted to do… this since our first shoot.” As if to emphasize your point you caressed the curve of Larissa’s hip as you watched for her reaction.
A contented smile spread across Larissa’s face and she leaned in for a kiss, her lips warm and comforting against your own. “I know,” she whispered with a smirk.
“You know? What do you mean you know?” You suddenly remembered that Larissa had mentioned during your intro call that she was the principal of Nevermore Academy and your eyes widened. “You can’t read minds, can you?”
Larissa chuckled at your perplexed expression. “No, I can’t read minds. But I’m afraid you’re not very good at hiding your attraction.” Her tone was teasing and light, and you could feel your cheeks turn scarlet.
“God, I’m so sorry if I creeped you out,” you mumbled, burying your face in the pillow.
“I found it quite endearing actually.” Larissa’s voice was inches away from your ear, her breath washing over the side of your face before she placed a kiss to your cheek. “In case you failed to notice, I’m attracted to you as well.”
Larissa’s fingers found your chin and she tilted your head to face her. Her eyes swam with warmth as she inched towards you until her lips captured yours in a languid kiss.
“Larissa?”
“Yes, darling?”
Darling. Your breath caught in your throat.
“Would it be… I mean would you be interested in… Would you like to-”
The blonde watched you struggle, her shoulders beginning to shake with laughter before she (mercifully) cut you off. 
“Are you trying to ask me on a date?” She grinned at the blush on your cheeks as you nodded your head. “Yes. I would be interested in going out with you, darling.”
You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face as you leaned in to kiss Larissa again, your head clouded with euphoria and your heart pounding. Her hands came to grip your waist and she flipped you onto your back, hovering over you as her lips began to mark every inch of you she could reach, her hands slowly unbuttoning your shirt.
It was something you’d been picturing over and over again since you’d first laid eyes on Larissa - but reality was definitely proving to be better than even your wildest fantasies.
x
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