#thank you again ri ♥️
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hi, we have questions for indi and yourself! for indi: 3, 30, 38. and for you: e, g, h. <3
hi, ri! i hope you're doing well 💖 i've said it to you already but, once again, sorry for the late reply (tumblr stop-eating-notifications challenge, lol).
ohohoh these are all such good questions! 👀 here you go:
3. "how do they put themselves to bed at night (reading, singing, thinking)?"
fun fact #1: indigo has always been a night owl, first and foremost, so she tends to go to sleep at ungodly hours (much to orion's dismay, sjksjk) if she ever goes to sleep at all. right after the breakup with seven and all that media shitstorm, she used to lull herself to sleep after spending the night at some club dancing, drinking, doing drugs, hooking up with strangers and trying to drunk text/call seven (not a great spectacle, tbh). i headcanoned that rowan — after witnessing a particularly bad rock-bottom moment — decided to help her in blocking seven's number and social media accounts. at present time, though, i'd say that indigo puts herself to sleep in a couple of ways:
a) if she's not tired at all, she will take her notebook to write songs and whatever is going through her mind at that moment;
b) fun fact #2: aside from singing, indigo loves dancing as well (she literally doesn't know how to stand still and how to not be a menace) so, when she is so tired that her brain is all fuzzy, she likes to watch dance practice videos on youtube to relax;
30. "who do they most regret meeting?"
her parents, lmao. jokes aside, i don't think she ever regretted meeting anyone (yep, not even seven). indi is a social butterfly and a very flirty gal by nature, so it's really easy for her to make friends and having one-night stands, the real problem is who will still be at her side through the good and the bad. as i said, she doesn't regret meeting seven but, if given the chance to do things differently, she probably would fight for him more/relish their relationship more before everything went down the drain (she won't take back the fact that she voted him out of the lead singer spot because, to this day, she feels like it was the right choice, marketing-wise).
38. "what memory do they revisit the most often?"
i think it's the night where her and seven got each other's initials inked on their inner wrists. it was the first of many tattoos for her and it was a very special moment (despite everything that happened, and the fact that indi is really petty, she didn't remove/conceal the tattoo).
e. "are they someone you would get along with? would they get along with you?"
honestly? i don't think so, sjkjsk. i am an introvert person, who literally has to psyche herself up in order to talk to people i don't know that well, and i usually prefer to listen to others instead of commanding a crowd with my talking. i genuinely believe that we could get along if we really wanted to, but we have very different lives and interests so it won't be an ever-lasting friendship, i'm afraid *squeaky noises*
g. "what trait of theirs bothers you the most?"
oh, the childishness for sure. i literally cannot stand people that are actual adults on paper, and then act like five years old children. i'd also say the unhealthy coping mechanisms (drugs + alcohol).
h. "what trait do you admire the most?"
indigo's social butterfly skills are something that i wish i'd have most of the times (i made my peace with being an introvert a long time ago, so no worries. it's mostly a "what's this? silence? c'mon brain, get your shit together and come up with some hilarious conversation topic!" type of thing, sjksjk). i'll throw in the "she can actually sing" bit too, lmao.
again, the gift of summary skipped me completely when i was born and, if you reached the end of this, i will be eternally grateful.
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Hiii☺It's my first time asking for a fic!I LOVE your fics so much so i thought i would ask you. I really hope you'll like the idea🤞It's a bit long tho.(smut fic🙊)
Larissa and Reader are best friends, they know everything about each other, they flirt and challenge each other, talk about sex and everything but never had sex. They're close.
Larissa invites R to spend the evening with her in her quarter, have a drink and watch a movie (that they'll never pay attantion to as usual).They talk, laugh and get a bit tipsy and R ask Larissa why she choosed not to have tattoos or piercing and then at some point, Larissa ask "how many piercing do you have? You never told me." So R gets up and show her the one on her nose, her lip, cheeks, a sternum piercing , maybe 3-4 each ear and maybe a lower back dimple piercings (those are ideas, you can add or change the piercing's places) and then she could sit back down and say "and i have my nipples pierced and a Christina's piercing. Would you like too see them too?" (half) joking because she thought Larissa would never say yes (not that she really minded showing her, she trusts her enough) but Larissa sensed the challenge there and decided to take R offguard and say yes, thinking that reader were going to back down, but then R gets up again and Larissa realised that she was REALLY going to show her and her eyes went wide at the idea but she didn't back down.....and then smut smut smut😅
You can add any kinks, toys or both,i'm fine with that!You can also add things about the beginning of the story if you think about something!I hope you want to write it and if not,it's ok too!Thank you xxxx
-Anon🌠⭐-
The Way You Adore Me (Like No Other) ~Larissa Weems xFem BestFriend!Reader
Summary— Larissa and Reader are best friends. They have been for as long as they can remember, the kind of friends who do all together and talk about it all. But what happens when you have a little too much to drink, and you find out that Larissa has a thing for your tattoos and piercings…?
Mommy… Master List
Requests & Prompt-List
Anon response— Hi hi anon!! Thank you for your kind words, I greatly appreciate them 🥰 and I love your request! I hope I did your idea justice. Thank you for the request, and welcome to my anons!! (if you’d do me a favor and clarify what emoji you’d like, I’d appreciate that, thank you!) Hope you Enjoy! ♥️
Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!!, smutty smut, drinking, little angst, little fluff, oral sex (both f receiving), fingering, face sitting, body adoration, tattoos and piercings adoration, teasing, light begging, implied overstimulation, confession of feelings, etc.
Enjoy (;
You sighed in relief as you enter Larissa’s private quarters. Being with your best friend always made everything better. You two just clicked perfectly.
Literally. You were such a good match. You talked about all kinds of shit. You have fun toying with one another, neither of you being one to back down from a challenge. Nothing was off the table when it came to you two.
You dropped your bags by the door, closing it behind you.
“Hey ‘Ris!!”
You called out your close friends name to indicate to her that you had arrived. Larissa had invited you to a sleepover this particular Friday night. She had mentioned something about a terribly stressful week, and being the good friend you were, you immediately took up the opportunity to care for and be with your friend.
“Oh Darling, Hello, Come in!” Larissa exclaimed, coming into the main entrance which connected to her living room, and greeting you.
The tall woman came up to you, giving you side kisses on each of your cheeks and then pulling you into a friendly hug. You sighed into Larissa’s embrace. Her hugs always made you lose all worry in your life.
You then properly came into her quarters, and the two of you ended up sitting comfortably on her couch. Larissa had brought a bottle of red wine and some glasses for you two to share. And like most sleepovers, the two of you planned to put on a movie. Although you both knew you wouldn’t pay much attention to it…
Tonight, you both decided on Three Thousand Years of Longing, a movie with Idris Elba and Tilda Swinton apparently about genies. Neither of you had a particular interest in genie movies, so it was a perfect pick to play in the background and just forget about.
As the movie began, Larissa popped the cork of the wine bottle and poured two glasses out for the two of you. She handed you your glass and you thanked the blonde. You then sat in each others company and just talked.
Larissa spilled all the details about her stress at work, and you as well. You talked and talked, the only thing visibly affecting the atmosphere was the every now and then sex scenes that came up from the movie. It caused a good deal of blushes, breath hitches, and clearing throats…
A couple of hours later the movie was almost over. And you had to confess that your knickers were damp from all the sex sounds that had been coming from the television… You didn’t know, but Larissa had admitted a similar thing to herself.
Your conversations could go in any and all directions. Especially when you were both tipsy. And that you were. By now, your conversation had shifted to talk about tattoos and piercings.
“I know you’ve probably told me this, but why don’t you have any tattoos again?” You tipsily asked.
Larissa took a moment to muse and think about her answer.
“Well, If I ever do get a tattoo, I think it’s important that it matters to me and will matter for the rest of my life… And I have never found something that fits that requirement.”
You hummed and nodded your head in response, going for another swig of wine quickly afterward.
“How many piercings do you now have?” The blonde asked curiously, her eyes lightly roaming up and down your frame.
You pursed your lips and smiled.
“Well… the nose ring, bottom lip, dimples, sternum, nipples, and a Christina piercing.”
You explained each piercing, indicating where each one was as you said it. Larissa’s eyes widened and darkened after every piercing location was revealed to her.
“And tattoos…?” She said, almost sounding breathless.
Larissa had put her wine done at this point. And she had scooted close to you.
“Ooh, I’ve got a lot of those… Wanna see them?”
You had responded in a particularly teasing and playful manner, half-way joking, and not expecting the blonde to take to up on your offer.
Larissa’s eyes sparkle and her pupils dilated at your words. She could never refuse a challenge, especially not from you…
“Yes. And the nipples piercings too…”
You nearly chocked on your own air, as your eyes widened at record speed. It’s not that you minded, you didn’t, you truly trusted Larissa. You just hadn’t expected that from here.
“I—Ok…!” You chocked out, standing up in front of Larissa to give her a better view.
Larissa leaned forward in anticipation, bring her lips and clasping her hands together over her legs. You then started to show the blonde each of your tattoos, one by one. Eventually you finished your tour, leaving your last two piercings.
You had to admit that you were a little nervous. But you were also tipsy. And those two things kind of cancelled each other out in your case.
So you lifted your shirt with ease, showing the woman your piercings on your exposed breasts. Larissa damn near chocked on her wine at the realization that you weren’t wearing a bra. Her eyes widened and she fought to keep her mouth from dropping.
Larissa, almost dumbfounded, stood up and walked a few steps forward, where she was right in front of you. She reached out delicately, running a finger around your left nipple piercing. Your breath hitched lightly.
“And then I have my Christina piercing…!” You quickly said, redirecting the focus of the conversation.
Larissa’s eyes popped back up from your tits to your eye level.
“What’s that?” She innocently asked.
“It’s… I…” you stammered, your words lost on you.
“It’s— a piercing above my lower lips…”
Larissa’s eyes widened.
The wine was affecting you both by this point…
“Show me.”
You sensed the woman’s challenge and you decided to just show the woman.
You pulled your skirt down to pool storing your feet, and you carefully moved your underwear to the side, enough where Larissa could see the silver piercing near your sex.
Larissa had no words, and for a moment she just stood there. But you blinked once, and all of a sudden Larissa was on her knees, her mouth attacking your cunt.
Your knees threatened to buckle and your groaned loudly, your hand desperately grasping Larissa for stability.
“Jesus Fuck—!!”
Larissa pulled away after one simple lick, staring up at you with wide eyes. Your breath hitched and you stared back.
“You taste so good…” she whispered.
You wanted to combust right there. Your hips instinctually bucked towards the woman’s face.
“Don’t stop on my accord” you whispered back, your words turning into a groan as Larissa immediately dove in face first.
One of your hands flew to her free locks, which she had unpinned throughout the night. Your other hand desperately cling to Larissa’s shoulder.
Larissa’s tongue expertly lapped through your folds, but only after a swipe around your Christina piercing each time. It was teasing torture.
You groaned out in a whiny and breathy tone after ten minutes of this teasing.
“Oh for fucks sake Larissa— just fuck me already!!”
Larissa didn’t need to be told twice, simply humming in delight into your cunt, and then sliding her tongue into your core. You both moaned out in delight, your grasp at her head tightening.
The woman had you seeing stars minutes after this. Larissa stopped for a moment, coming up to your face and smashing her lips into yours. You moaned at your own taste on her lips. As you did so, Larissa was swift in undressing you.
“Want to see all of you… all of your piercings… all of your tattoos…” she breathlessly pled.
After all of your clothes had been discarded, Larissa playfully pushed you onto the couch. She went to straddle you, her dress still adorning her body.
“Is this okay…?” Larissa asked, a little concerned about her weight on you.
“More than…” you groaned with a post-orgasmic smile.
Larissa smirked and nodded, slipping to kneel right in front of the couch. Her hand grabbed your legs and hooked them up and above her shoulder for her easy access.
You gasped. Larissa then took a second to let her eyes wander at all of your piercings and tattoos. She licked her lips.
You were still buzzing from your previous orgasm when Larissa began swirling a finger around your slick folds. She continued to tease you clit and the entrance to your sex on and off while she sucked and licked and marked your skin. She eagerly focused her efforts on your tatted and pierced area of exposed skin.
Your head rolled back and you let out a breathy groan. Your one hand landed back in Larissa’s platinum locks, while your other was stabilizing yourself against eh couch.
“ ‘Rissa… please…” you breathily moaned, begging the woman to take you and stop all the teasing.
Larissa chuckled, and while she didn’t stop caressing and loving on your exposed skin, she did slip one of her fingers inside your wet heat. You hummed out in delight, her one finger providing your walls something to clench around, while you didn’t feel quite full or stretched yet.
While Larissa pulled and pushed her one digit in and out of you, her mouth was latched onto one of your perky, pierced buds. Strings of more breathy groans and pleading followed out of your mouth.
“M-more please ‘Rissa…!”
Larissa chuckled, pulling her one digit out, and then slipping two fingers inside you. Now this started to stretch you out. You hissed in response, your eyes rolling back.
“Taking me so well, Darling…” the woman cooed, biting your ear lobe where you had your lobe piercing.
“God F-faster—!!” You cried out breathily.
Larissa happily obliged, fucking into you with her fingers at a faster pace. The combination of her two digits and her sultry tone had you cumming a second time for the woman that night.
This time you screamed for Larissa as she made you see stars, and your legs were wobbly and shaking even more than last time.
“That’s it, doing so good…” she encouraged you, helping you over your high.
But she didn’t stop afterwards. No, she showed no signs of stopping. Her lips quickly attached to your clit, and she slid a third finger into your aching and sensitive core. You groaned and hissed, and your hand was pushing Larissa’s head further into your cunt.
Larissa’s hot mouth put the perfect amount of suction against your puffy clit and her three finger combo made you crash over into third, smaller, but still substantial orgasm.
You fell into the couch cushions, going limp, and Larissa finally pulled away, licking her fingers with wild eyes and a wicked smirk.
“W-wearing too many clothes ‘Rissa…” you huffed, completely out of breath, raising your hand lazily and indicating to her attire.
Larissa chuckled and immediately went to unzip her dress. It pooled at her feet, and she was quick to get rid of her silky undergarment set as well. In a second, the woman had you laid back along the couch, as she hovered on top of you.
She licked her lips.
“I was right by the way… you taste insatiably delicious.” Larissa purred, staring down at you.
You gulped and took the moment to admire the woman’s frame above you. Before Larissa could do anything, you raised yourself up and latched your tongue around one of her nipples. Larissa shuddered and let out a yelp.
“I think…” you hummed, letting go of her perky bud with a pop, “It’s your turn.”
Larissa’s eyes widened at your words and she nodded lightly.
“Alright…” she breathlessly spoke.
You looked the woman up and down before deciding.
“Sit on my face.”
Her eyes widened and her expression changed to one of concern.
“Oh. No, I don’t think—”
Larissa was stopped mid-sentence, gasping and groaning, by your lips trailing from her breasts and down her stomache, as you shimmied down the couch and towards her core.
“Trust me ‘Rissa…” you purred, licking through her folds only once.
Larissa’s hips immediately jerked towards your mouth for more. And she let out the hottest moan. She seemed convinced… Larissa carefully positioned herself above your face, you eagerly grabbed her hips and stuffed your face full of her needy sex.
Larissa’s hands landed on the couch to stabilize herself, as her head was thrown back and strings of leud groans and whimpers escaped her pristine lips.
Larissa looked lake a goddess above you, as you lapped away at her folds and into her core. Her hair and tits swayed in tandem, and the moment slowed perfectly for you to just revel and delight in the other woman.
~
When you woke up, you weren’t in your own bed… and you weren’t alone… Twisted in what you assumed to be expensive, silk sheets, you found yourself to be naked and with a strong enough headache.
You knew that you should have laid back on the alcohol…
You looked around and realized that you were in Larissa’s bedroom. And then you looked next to you in the bed, and sure enough, there lay a sleeping Larissa, just as nude as you.
You gasped lightly, sitting up, as all the events from last night came back to you. Part of you felt guilty that you both had been drunk enough, but a bigger part of you was so happy that it had finally happened.
But what if Larissa didn’t feel the same…?
“What’s on your mind, Love…?” A croaky, sleepy, yet still sultry British accent spoke out, bringing you out of your thoughts.
You looked towards Larissa who was still turned towards you, but this time her eyes were lightly opened and her sapphire gaze was upon you. You blushed lightly and sunk back into the bed.
“I… I feel like I may have taken advantage of our drunken state last night…” you whispered, not being able to look the woman in the eye as you spoke.
Larissa’s hand emerged from the covers, lightly directing your face by the chin to meet her gaze.
“Darling. If anything, I took advantage of you. I practically attacked you.” She breathed out.
“No no…” you shook your head, “I loved it.”
Your words came out before you could check them, making you blush even more intensely. At this Larissa chuckled lightly.
“I did too…”
You both smiled at each other, enjoying the newfound silence and love.
~~~
Larissa Weems Masterlist
#🌠/⭐️ anon#anon asks#best friends#friends to lovers#friends to lovers trope#larissa weems#larissa#larissa x reader#larissa x y/n#larissa x you#larissa weems smut#larissa weems x reader#principal weems#principal larissa weems#gwendoline christie#gwen christie#gwendolineuniverse#gwendoline is mommy#Gwendoline Christie x reader#Gwendoline Christie character#wednesday netflix#netflix wednesday#wednesday smut#wednesday fanfic#wednesday fandom#wednesday#cissyenthusiast010155 answers
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HIII i really like your blog soo muchhhh.😭🔥♥️ can I ask for werewolf bf fuma when you make him jealous on purpose because you love to see his other side u knowrr.🔥😭🙈 thank u for always updating us with your great oneshotsss .🔥🔥👏😭
aw ty for the compliments (you have successfully buttered me up so here you go.)
Primal Love
warnings: wolfhybrid!fuma, human reader, breeding kink, manhandling, reader is a little bit of a whore(dont say that to her she likes it), ???
Your boyfriend tended to shy away from you during full moons. He never wanted to hurt you, but he couldn't control his wolf form. Fuma would hide away at a friend's house, in a guest room or chained up in the basement. You'd never seen it before, but you heard he was a aggressive werewolf. They had to change the support beams to metal because he almost chewed through them.
Actually, he'd never let you see him in changed form. Only once had he almost transformed in front of you.
---------
You were already in your pajamas, washing your face before bed. Suddenly, you heard a large thud coming from your bedroom. You dried your face, walking to your bedroom. Pressing your ear to the door, you heard sound of low growling and dog like whimpering. Hastily opening the door, you were met by your boyfriend's hunched over presence. "Fuma? I-is everything alright?" His eyes darted towards you, bright yellow and his teeth started to look more like fangs.
"Oh fuck!" you gasped, rushing to his aid. "Go, Y/n. B-before I do something I regret." He grumbled lowly, you standing up and turning on your heel. "Go to Kei, but be careful...I-I'm not the only werewolf in this village." You nodded, grabbing your protection necklace and running out of the house.
---------
That experience was extremely scary. You were currently at Kei's place, but Fuma setting up in his guest room, preparing for his transformation. Fuma came back upstairs, giving you a tight hug. "Hey, aren't you going into rut this cycle?" Kei questioned, reading a book while snacking on crackers. Fuma's eyes went wide. "Shit. I totally forgot," he stressed. Kei snorted, standing to put the crackers back into the cabinet. "You're totally fucked dude," Kei teased, Fuma rolling his eyes.
He headed upstairs to grab even more supplies, and you went to talk to Kei. "Kei-kun, can I ask you a question?" He looked up from his book, slightly annoyed. "How can I get Fuma to fuck me?" You sheepishly asked, Kei smiling. "If you get all cuddly with me he'll get jealous. He's good at controlling his temper but with the mix of his rut starting he'll do it." So you scooted closer to Kei, letting him rest his arm around your shoulder casually.
Fuma came back downstairs. "Hey Kei, do yo- oh." His eyes addressed the scene in front of him. "Sorry, babe! I just got kinda cold and i decided to snuggle up with Kei-kun." You softly caressed his thigh, watching Fuma's eye twitch. You giggled, leaning back and lifting up Kei's shirt. "When were you going to tell me that Kei was jacked? His chest is so nice, probably the best I've ever seen."
Both of you noticed Fuma's energy shift. He looked outside, staring at the moon before you noticed his eyes turn yellow. He was transforming again. It only took a few seconds for Fuma's ears to pop out on top of his head, a tail swinging behind his legs. Fangs grew out of his mouth, him making a small snarling noise.
You noticed how Kei's eyes went as wide as saucers. "Hey dude, you can have her. I don't think-" His hairy arms grabbed your waist, yanking you off the couch and cutting Kei's sentence off. "It's fine. I'll just have to teach her some manners." he lowly grumbled, your eyes going wide as well. In a matter of seconds, you two were already upstairs and in Kei's guest room, door shut and locked. Fuma tossed you onto the bed, ripping your sweater off of you and your jeans.
You whined, covering your naked body. "You pretend to be shy, as if you weren't hoping 'Kei-kun' would fuck you." He ripped off the remaining of his boxers, grabbing your hips and immediately thrusting into you. You arched your back in pleasure, wincing at the stretch. "W-wait Fuma! I'm not ready," you pleaded, tears forming in your eyes. But he had already fully transformed. He snarled, thrusting quickly in and out of you. "Take my cock." he groaned, pushing deeper inside of you. "Gonna fuck you so full."
You kept pleading for him to forgive you, choking on your words as you spoke. "S-so sorry! I'm yours- only y-yours!" You came quickly, back arching off of the bed and loud moans emerging from your mouth. Fuma pulled out of your hole, flipping you over and shoving deeper inside of you. You moaned so loud it became a scream, sure that Kei could hear you from downstairs.
"Such a good girl. Make you an even better mommy," he whispered in your ear. You barely caught what he said, but when you realized you gasped loudly. "W-wait no! Fuma I- You can't get me pregnant!" He put a hand over your mouth, using it as leverage to fuck into you deeper. "Mine. My pussy, my pups." He growled, speeding up to an animalistic pace. "O-oh shit! Fuma please please think about this," you pleaded in a mumble, not knowing that it was all falling on deaf ears.
"Can't wait to see your tummy all swollen, full of my pups." You sobbed, taking his cock farther than you had before. Suddenly, he released his hand, wrapping his other arm around your waist. It clicked in your head. He was about to knot you. "Wait Fuma! Don't-"
Before you could finish you sentence, you felt his knot expand inside of you, shooting cum into your womb. Your stomach bloated with his cum, making you wince. He whimpered for a while, before you two sat in silence. You fell asleep in his arms, feeling warm and protected.
---
You woke up the next morning, completely sore and in pain. "F-fuma?" He had restored to his natural form, and tossed on a t shirt and some boxers. "Good morning baby. I had given you a bath last night, but you sounded like you were in so much pain. I'm sorry, for whatever I did to you last night. But I warned you the best I could."
You softly smiled at him, hugging him tight. You were wearing one of his t-shirts. "It's fine. Besides, I kind of liked it. Though..." You looked down at your stomach, grimacing at the fullness. "Yeah, that one was my bad."
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I cried, I smiled, I felt cold and warm in the heart.
It’s so beautiful, all emotions- just right there!
Both oc and jungkook master in the art of over-thinking. Indulging into self pitying and making themselves feel less important in each others life, while that’s not the case, not at all.
But this is it, they need to learn. It’s “right person wrong time”. Timing will get better, they’ll meet again, when they are ready to accept themselves first.
Also, can I get a Mr. Ri in my life? That’ll be lovely! Thanks 🙃
Thank you for the chapter mimi! I guess I’m living my emotions through it ♥️
Ahhhh feeling all the emotions, just like I hoped 😌😌 I’m glad you let yourself go through all that! It’s what I enjoy with a slow burn - you get to experience what they’re feeling and it’s how I want the story to be told.
And I agree, they rly do overthink and think that their next actions will make things worse. It also shows how scared they are but how much they want the other person despite of it. They just won’t make a move and talk 🙃🙃🙃. But of course, their timing is wrong, they’re doubting each other… It’s all about claiming happiness for themselves and hoping the other person is still around when they do.
Mr Ri 🥹🥹 he’ll have another moment that you will love. I’m so soft for that man
Thank you thank you for reading and dropping by 💕💕
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hi so first things first i LOVE the permanent mark series it’s honestly one of the best series i’ve read on here :)
secondly, fuck gojo
if he knew that when he saw rie again that he was gonna catch feelings for her again or looked for her in y/n then he should’ve left y/n alone to spare her from the heartbreak. i feel like deep down even when he was with y/n he still looked for glimpses of rie in her like those feelings for rie never went away. then with him yelling at y/n when she flinched and rie fell back, it was literally a human reaction to flinch (fight or flight response) when someone grabs you out of nowhere LIKE CMON GOJO USE THAT BRAINN
but also, fuck rie. if she knew that gojo was still with y/n or even had a suspicion that they were still together, she should’ve backed up. i will say that i feel like she’s starting to piece everything together and see that gojo still deeply cares for y/n and is in that state of mind where it��s like “i had him first and he chose me but why does he care so much now?” it’s almost like she can feel him starting to slip away little by little. and now that she feels threatened, she’s gonna do what she can to keep gojo with her.
lastly, poor y/n. she doesn’t deserve that pain and heartbreak. like imagine one day the man your in love with says “we need to end things, i didn’t cheat i just need a break” only to find out he did cheat with his high school gf. i would cry my little heart out. like yes she may have been his first love but y/n didn’t deserve all that pain of the breakup only for them to rub it in at the party. she deserves so much better :( I AM JUST PRAYING THAT ONCE SHES ALL BETTER SHE BEATS THE SHIT OUTTA RIE
bring out the boxing ring and let y/n rock ries shit fr cause that rie bitch deserves her ass whooped
the boxing ring sent me LMAOO 😭 that's a whole fight you're planning there, nonnie 😭 but yeah, gojo and rie, i wouldn't say they're 'in love' back in high school, but like they're infatuated with each other, they're young and you know young people. then when they met again, as he said, it got 'stronger'. and you're right, POOR YN. like the girl's been doing her best to try and move on alone. but i had to make things painful and write the story HAHHSHAHAHA jk but yeah, we could only hope that her life gets kinder to her 🥺 n eways THANK YOU SO MUCH, nonnie !! i really appreciate this ~🥺♥️ i hope you're doing great !!!
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Golden Hour Part 11
My domestic fluff ♥️GarouxReader!♥️ (Written from Garou’s point of view) In this part Garou goes to the museum with you and almost has his way in the end. Almost. You can also read it on AO3 here :)
I put the book down and check the time, giving Delilah a quick scratch behind the ear. She’s been butting my head with her nose for the last five minutes, waiting for attention, but I was just wantin’ to finish this chapter.
“Time to go,” I say to her as she rubs her forehead against mine.
I toss the book carefully back on the desk as I get up, Delilah looking up at me curiously from my bed, wondering where the hell I’m off to all of a sudden.
“You,” I point at her. “You’re gonna stay here and guard the house,” I say as I turn back to the closet. “Not that there’s fuckin’ much to guard…”
Now. What the fuck am I supposed to wear to the fuckin’ museum?
I gotta back up here. How the fuck did I end up here, scratching my head over museum attire? Last time I been to a museum was in elementary school when we went to look at dinosaurs. I fuckin’ remember because we were supposed to buddy up or some shit, and yet, as usual I’d ended up by my fucking little self. That was thanks to that little fucker Tacchan. I didn’t even fuckin’ care to be honest. Better to hang out by yourself than tag along with a brat all day.
But I ain’t here to tell you a sob story.
Cut back to last Saturday night. Back at her place. Dinner is finished. I’ve made a fucking idiot out of myself again, but I’m happy.
We go to the living room and straight away the guy makes a line for the armchair. That leaves me nowhere to sit but the floor or the couch with her. I was sure he’d want to sit next to his sister since they don’t see each other all that fuckin’ much. But no. He sits in the armchair, like a fucking king. And she sits in her usual corner of the couch.
And if I sit on the floor, that looks mighty impolite, like there’s something wrong with sitting next to her. So I sit on the other side, as politely as my swimming mind will let me.
She puts on the tv, kind of quietly in the background. No one’s really watching, but we’re all catching the storyline anyway. It’s one of those friendly, relaxed evenings. At least I guess that’s what it is since I ain’t exactly used to being around company.
To be perfectly fucking honest, I don’t remember much of the detail. I just remember having a nice fuckin’ time. Everything seems dandy. No one is hassling me, I just got a good fuckin’ meal, and ice cream…I mean, what more can a man want?
But I remember this exchange. Because that’s why I’m in this fucking little predicament now.
“So,” he says, finishing off another glass of wine. I’ve stopped asking myself at this point how he can fucking drink and drink and drink that shit and remain so placid, “what do you kids usually do for fun?”
He looks from her to me, back to her.
“I don’t know,” she says casually, looking at her phone, slowly twisting a lock of hair around her finger. This question doesn’t seem to phase her in the slightest. “I teach him to cook and we watch TV mostly.”
“God,” he sighs, “even Granma has more fun than that!”
She stops with her phone and looks up at him.
“Granma lives in a fancy retirement village where they have all the free time in the world and get to play bingo and poker any time they want. I come home tired after work. What do you want me to do?”
I look from him to her as she speaks. You know, I never really thought about that. When I come home, I feel fucking tired too. Not physically, but just this goddamn weariness of the whole situation. Being an adult isn’t all it’s fucking cracked up to be turns out. I’d never really considered how she might feel. She always smiles when she sees me in the evening and always talks to me, asks me questions. Always listening to what I gotta say. I’d never thought that that takes energy. I ain’t exactly a great conversation partner.
She’s doing all that for me, I suddenly realise. She could just tell me to fuck right on back home and sit in the bath all evening. But I’m invited in, fussed over, fed, even though she must be fucking exhausted. I feel like a goddamn idiot. And this hot feeling of guilt in my throat.
“Alright, alright,” he throws up his hands after putting the wine glass down on the coffee table. “But come on now, you need to get out of this house sometime,” he says, looking at her with half affection and half concern. “There must be something you want to do.”
“Mm…kind of,” she says and goes back to her phone and twisting her hair.
He stares at her with expectation and I find I do the same. She ain’t ever mentioned anything. She probably thinks I’m not fucking old enough, or smart enough or whatever to talk to me about it. I don’t blame her.
“Well…?” he says, exasperated when the answer is not coming and she keeps ignoring him.
She clicks her tongue in this slightly annoyed way, like she’s a little self-conscious to say.
“I want to go to the art exhibition at the museum,” she finally says, never taking her eyes off the screen. “They’ve got paintings from all over the world. It’s supposed to only be here for three months.”
That’s not what I was expecting if I’m entirely honest. But it makes sense why she wouldn’t have said anything to the likes of my delinquent ass about it. What the fuck do I know about painting?
“And what’s stopping you from going?” he says, eyes narrowing.
“Nothing, I guess,” she says. “It’s just…not fun going by yourself. And I don’t know anyone who’d like to go to that sort of thing.”
Fuck. I’d like to go. Not for the painting. But if it means that much to her.
We go all sorts of places now. Took a little convincing her that I didn’t hate it. I can’t say I love all these things. I don’t get a lot of it. But it means something to her. And I always end up learnin’ something and that ain’t ever a bad thing. Shit, I’m so cultured now I can tell you the difference between a symphony and a fuckin’ opera. There’s this whole other world out there besides home and fucking work and the back alleys and even if it ain’t really my thing most of the time, I always get the pleasure of her happy company. That’s all that matters.
He looks at her the way she looks at me sometimes. The way you look at a difficult but beloved child.
“Let me make this really easy for you,” he says slowly, carefully, pressing his fingertips together and turning to me. “Wolf Cub, would you like to go to the art exhibition?”
I blink while my brain tries to keep up with the situation.
“Yeah,” I finally say.
“Wolf Cub, would you please ask her highness over there if she’d like to go to the art exhibition,” he instructs.
“Your highness,” I say, turning to her, just happily following orders, “do you wanna go to the museum?”
She glances up at me with this lovely laugh, but I can see this light rosy colour in her cheeks.
“You don’t have to play his games,” she says to me, leaning her head on her hand. “It’s ok. I’ll live.”
“I ain’t playing games,” I say, suddenly feeling very fucking confident. I feel like I’d just been called chicken or something. I don’t know. “Or you think I ain’t smart enough for the museum?”
“Yeah,” he joins in. “Do you think he’s not smart enough for the museum, love?”
She takes this deep breath in and sighs.
“I don’t think you’re not smart enough for the museum,” she says, and there’s that lovely pink across her face again. “Do you really want to go?”
I was ready to argue a bit more and find I have to take a step back mentally at her acquiescence.
“Yeah,” I say. I do. Because it will be with you.
“Ok, we’ll go then. But you better not complain once we’re there,” she says and I give her a grinning salute. Feels like a victory.
And he leans back in his armchair, nodding at us, as if he knows something we’re a little too dumb to know ourselves.
“You’re going to regret this,” she smiles at me and goes right back to her phone to book the tickets.
So here I fuckin’ am.
I don’t think you’re supposed to wear anything particularly fucking special to the museum, are you? I look through whatever clothes I got. Ah. This shirt. This white button-up. That’s school. That’s the one that didn’t get torn and bloodied. Why the fuck do I still have this thing? Nothing but bad fucking memories. The school crest is sewn onto the front pocket but it’s in white, so hardly noticeable. White on white. No. Whatever. It’s just the fucking museum. I grab the first clean t-shirt I see and push the door shut.
When I check the time again it’s still early. I sit back down on the mattress and pull the book towards me.
This ain’t like me. I don’t know why the fuck but it’s gotten into my brain.
She’d left those books for me back when I had been sick and I reckoned it’d be pretty fuckin’ rude to return them straight away. I don’t think she actually thought I’d read any of them but it still felt like bad fucking manners to return them two days later, as if her efforts were in vain. So I’d let them sit there, on my desk for a bit.
And then the cat, bigger and much more curious now, had jumped up on there and started having her own fun, pushing shit off. So when I got home, they were all sprawled on the floor while she sat on the windowsill looking mighty fucking satisfied with herself. Little shit. Adorable. But still a little shit. Just like me.
I went to pick them up (if they were mine I wouldn’t give a fuck) and this one caught my eye. Because the title pissed me off. A Hero Of Our Time. And this portrait of an asshole straight out of last century on the front. I ain’t ever liked superhero stories, ever since I was a kid. Most kids do. I don’t know why. It’s the same fucking story over and over. The pretty boy wails on the monster, who’s usually just some misunderstood fucking loner, and everyone cheers. Always the same fucking shit. If you’re popular you win. If you’re not, you lose. If you’re popular, you’re loved. If you’re not, you’re fucking trash and deserve what’s coming to you.
A Hero Of Our Time.
Give me a fucking break. I know she didn’t do this deliberately or anythin’. It’s not like she could know, and I feel a bit fuckin’ childish getting worked up over it but it is what it is.
I look at the title again. This playground flashback goes through my mind. Being made to play the monster.
I feel so fucking stupid now, remembering how fucking happy I was when they first asked if I wanted to play. It was the first time anyone had bothered. Usually, they’d all just leave me alone at lunch, or just whisper behind my oblivious little back. I still remember this fleeting feeling of acceptance…before being put in my fucking place. Always the monster. Always-
Fuck. I need to snap out of this bullshit.
I look at the book in my hand. I wonder if she’s actually read it or it’s just one of those classics you have just to display on the shelf. I turn it over. I see there are a couple of pages with folded corners, makeshift bookmarks. I guess she has.
I flip it open. It’s not a particularly long book. I have no expectations. No. I have very bad fucking expectations. I skim through the first page. It’s not how I thought it was going to be.
It starts on some fucking hills in some place I’ve never heard of. Where’s the fuckin’ hero? I’m already fuckin’ angry in advance.
I go onto the next page. More mountains and casual historic racism. I flip to the back. When the hell was this written?
1830s. Figures.
I go back to page two. No hero yet. But I’ve got this rage now about this whole thing so I gotta keep going.
And the more I keep going the more intrigued I get.
This hero…When he finally shows up, he ain’t really a hero.
I find myself reading here and there over the next two weeks. It’s not so much the plot that interests me but the way this son of a bitch is described. How he thinks. Everyone treats him like a fucking hero but he’s a fucking asshole. And the author knows this but the other characters around him don’t. He’s this pretty, rich boy army officer and everyone is falling over themselves to kiss his ass but all he does is play them all like a fucking violin. He’s smart and he’s aware of how fucked up he is, and that’s intriguing to me because every other ‘hero’ I’ve seen think they’re the fucking shit, like they can do no wrong. But this asshole… He knows he’s goddamn evil, and pushes people’s buttons just for shits and giggles. I guess the message is about wasted potential or somethin’. Just like me. ‘Wasted potential.’ How many times had I seen that on the old school report, eh?
Anyway, the only time he seems to have any real feelin’s is when the woman he wants doesn’t want him. And then he gets all fuckin’ introspective about maybe he hasn’t made the best decisions in life. And I hate to fuckin’ admit it, but I sort of relate to this asshole. And this just makes me even more angry.
I hear Delilah meow and check the time again. Fuck. Now I’m gonna be late. I mark the page with a random bit of paper lying around and put the book back on the desk.
“Remember, you’re guardin’ this place,” I give her a stern look again before heading out.
“You’re late,” she says, heading across the street to meet me. “Spent too long picking out an outfit?” she says, adjusting the collar of my hastily thrown on jacket.
“Doin’ my hair,” I wink at her. I don’t do a fuckin thing to my hair. What the fuck is there to be done to this wild mess?
I’m glad to see she ain’t dressed to the nines. Somewhere between work and making dinner. But fucking beautiful as usual.
I knew you didn’t have to dress in a fucking tux to go to the museum.
It’s a sunny Saturday afternoon and we easily find seats on the train. After a moment of hesitant silence she turns to me.
“You didn’t have to come, you know,” she says, looking at me with big serious eyes.
“Ok, I’ll get off at the next stop and go back home,” I say, ready to get up but she pulls me back down by the sleeve, knowing full well that I’m joking.
“I don’t mean I want you to go!” She says. And I’m so fucking pleased to hear that. “I just don’t think you’ll enjoy it,” she says, shoving her hands in her jacket pockets and looking uncomfortably away. “You don’t have to spend your weekends hanging out with someone boring like me and going to the museum of all places. You should be living your exciting teenage life.”
How? How can I tell her that I all I fuckin’ want to do is be here next to her? How can I say that without sounding so…
You are the exciting part of my life. Well, one of the two exciting things in my life. The lovelier, much more beautiful one.
Nowadays, now that we’re both on the same page, life is nothin’ but excitement. Yeah, there’s still fuckin’ work but there’s also trips to here and there, late night outings, drinking games, fuckin’ in the great outdoors… Excitement aplenty. More than I’d ever thought I’d have. Broadening my horizons. Variety is the spice of life, she always says. And ain’t that the truth. We’ve probably fucked in twenty different public places. Not caught once, yet.
But in all seriousness. She pushes me out of that cramped space in my mind which tells me the only thing to do is to fight, fight for your fucking life and your dignity. Which I still sometimes do. But she’s shown me there’s a lot more in this world than that. And we’re still explorin’.
The museum is busy. Looks like there are a lot of people that like to look at old paintings of dead people and misty horizons and bowls of fruit of all fuckin’ things. I don’t get the appeal.
“I don’t pity you,” I say. It’s the truth. And I think that’s what she was worried about.
She looks up at me for a moment and then gives me this gorgeous smile.
“Thanks,” she says. “I don’t pity you either.”
I wasn’t expecting that. But I think somewhere in the back of my mind I had thought it. That idea had gotten stuck in there on repeat. That I was just the stray to be taken care of and pitied for my reprehensible, unreformable violent ways. I thought maybe that was the extent of her feelings for me.
“You’re smart,” she says when I don’t reply, too lost in my own speculation, my fist clenching at the thought of never getting beyond her pity. “And hilarious,” she continues and suddenly I feel her hand on mine, gently prying my fingers away from my palm. “And very kind,” she says, tracing her fingertips over my hand, mesmerising me as I try to keep very still, to not give away how much this makes me feel, deep and intense. “Even if you don’t think so,” she finishes as the train comes to a stop and we arrive. The contact broken. But not her spell.
“They’re in chronological order,” she says, briefly pointing down the long hallway, both sides hung with these paintings of all shapes and sizes. “Starting with the Renaissance, all the way to early twentieth century later on,” she says.
Looks like we’re going to be doing a lot of fucking walkin’ and starin’.
We see a lot more paintings of churches, and mountains and flowers and parties and I get a crash course in fucking art history of all things, while all I can think about, all my mind jumps between is the feel of her hands and the sight of her naked in that window and how I want to bring those two things together into one reality.
“So what’s the point?” I say, as we stop early on to gaze at some woman and some rocks and some angels.
“This is a da Vinci,” she looks at me incredulously.
“So what’s the point?” I repeat, as this tells me nothing.
“The point of what?” she asks. “Of painting or of looking?”
“Both,” I shrug.
“Have you ever tried to paint anything?” She raises her eyebrow at me.
“Not since third grade,” I say.
“What did you paint?” She asks, genuinely curious.
“A wolf,” I tell her. I still remember that. It was up on the fridge at home for a while until-
“That’s really damn cute,” she laughs. “I’m not surprised. Do you still have it?”
“No,” because, you see, there was that day when-
“Well, then you know how hard it is. These men, and it’s usually men, worked all their lives perfecting their craft. If nothing else, just see it as a showcase of manual skill.”
Alright. That I can appreciate. Working to be the best at something. Even if I don’t get the result, I can respect that.
“That’s all there is to it,” she continues. “Just appreciate the beauty and time and skill it takes to produce it. There’s a lot of messages and morals of the story too but if nothing else, we can just appreciate that someone poured their heart and soul into it, into all those intricate details. I mean look,” she points to the canvas of the next painting, “look at the detail on the water there, on the waves. It looks almost real, doesn’t it?”
I look a bit closer. It is somewhat interesting. These little splashes of paint that just look like random dabs up close but in the overall scheme of things look like something tangible and recognisable.
“How the fuck do they choose what to draw?” I say.
“Lots of things. Partly they paint what’s popular, like myths and legends or religious scenes, landscapes and such. Partly what pays the bills, like portraits. Partly just artistic expression I guess,” she says as we continue to slowly walk down the first hall. “Look, there are a few main themes that have always been popular: religion, Greeks and Romans, landscapes and naked women.”
“Things never change, eh?” I grin at her.
“Men never change,” she corrects me with a laugh.
Well, what can I say. I see her in my mind again, half naked in the soft lamp light. More beautiful than any painting. Real and so close. So fucking close.
“Why would we?” I say. “What’s not to love about the fucking Greeks?”
She rolls her eyes in that pretty way that says ‘You’re a smart ass but you make me laugh so I’ll let it slide’.
We pass a whole lot of paintings of dead Italians, a lot of saints I ain’t ever heard of, a lot of Dutch canals and then we stop by this huge motherfucker of a painting. Way bigger than life size.
“Thought you’d like this one,” she says as I look it up and down. These three Romans being handed swords and it looks like they’re basically saying we’ll win or fuckin’ die trying. I don’t know what they’re going to go fight about but shit looks serious. Not something I’d hang in my own house but I gotta admit, the scale is impressive. I wouldn’t necessarily say I like it, but it’s a nice change after all these fucking frilly little shepherds seducing sleeping shepherdesses.
“This kind of thing was very popular two hundred years ago,” she says, standing next to me, looking up with me. “It’s striking, isn’t it? The sheer size of it…I always wonder what’s going through their minds when I see it,” she says.
“They ain’t thinking,” I say. I can feel her gaze at me, curious. But I know that hard look. They’ve decided. It’s pure determination. “They’re not thinking,” I repeat. “They already know it’s either victory or death. There ain’t nothing else to think about.”
She looks at me silently, as if trying to figure something out.
“Yes, but they had no other choice,” she says, as if reminding me of something important, pulling me away from my usual mindset. “We’re not in ancient Rome anymore.”
I don’t want to be called out like this. I don’t want to think fucking logically. I’ve been nursing this anger far too long to let it go now.
“So, where are these naked women you keep telling me about,” I say, giving her my most insolent grin, veering away from the topic.
“Right there,” she says, pointing a couple of paintings up ahead. And well, fuck me. There it is. She wasn’t fuckin’ kidding.
“Thought that back then people were supposed to be, you know…more…” I try to find the word.
“Prudish?” she suggests.
“Somethin’ like that,” I say.
“No, no, it was fine to paint naked women, but only if you showed them as some sort of goddess or mythological creature, and also doing this,” she makes this delicate pose with her arm slightly covering her breasts, her other hand close to her hip. “See, if they look like they’re kind of trying to cover themselves, it’s ok.”
I can hear the joking sarcasm in her voice.
“It got more explicit as time went on,” she points up ahead to a painting of a very pale woman lounging in bed, “but maybe you’re too young to see that,” she jokes and hugs me from behind, her hands over my eyes.
And right now, I don’t care much for any painting of any naked woman. Because she’s here, and so fucking close to me, her hands on my face again. I’ve seen you, I think. I’ve seen you almost just like that. It’s too late. It’s too fuckin’ late for me. I don’t have any desire to see any paintings. Only her. To see her like that again, but not be separated by two panes of glass, a whole street. To see her like that in my own room, feel these hands on me, not because I’m sick or fuckin’ wounded but because she wants me, just as much as I fuckin’ want her. I don’t want her to let go. But of course it never lasts.
She says she wants to stop at the gift shop, and who am I to say no. I wait around, not particularly interested in anything there, still lost in my fantasies, growing more and more explicit by the fuckin’ minute.
“Here,” she says, coming up to me, having bought whatever it was she wanted. She hands me a postcard with that Roman painting on it. “It’s the one you liked,” she says, smiling but there’s something shy about it. “I just wanted to say thank you for coming with me.”
I would go anywhere for you, darlin’.
And then it hits me, it’s not just shy. It’s grateful. Like she didn’t think I’d come. Like she dared not hope.
I remember the banter with her brother, when she said she didn’t think anyone would want to go do something like that with her. I realise, for her, this was taking a gamble. To share something you enjoy with someone. It’s always a self-conscious risk. To be fuckin’ honest, my heart fucking breaks just a little bit. I ain’t ever realised she might’ve felt like this. But then again…that conversation on the pier…’Do you ever feel lonely?’
And I realise, I do. I fuckin’ do.
“I-” I’m not sure what I want to say but she cuts me off anyway, wanting to not linger on this topic that brings our self-consciousness, hers and mine, to the fore.
“And thank you for not complaining,” she laughs. “Come on, do you want to go get something to eat? It’s getting pretty late. I’m buying, making it up to you for dragging you around for so long.”
“No,” I say. “I’m buyin’, for dragging me out of the house and making me just a bit more fuckin’ civilised,” I grin.
“Little savage,” she says, and runs her hand through my hair affectionately, and it takes all my willpower to not completely come fucking undone then and there.
It fucking pours just around the time I get off work on Monday and walking through this is fucking hassle. I ain’t that far from home but I ain’t in a rush and just don’t feel like going through the goddamn rain today. So I wait around for the worst of it to pass, kicking the proverbial can. I see there’s a sign on the wall saying No Loitering but they’ll just have to fucking get over it because I ain’t budging until this shit passes. I'll loiter till my heart's content.
Ten minutes later it seems to ease up and I make my way home, hurrying before it comes back, the sky looking darker and more ominous with every passing moment. There will be no golden hour today, smothered by these storm clouds.
I feel it start again, drops on the back of my neck and keep my head down so that I almost don’t notice her, sitting on her doorstep, drenched to the bone in her office outfit, thin coat clinging to her as she shelters under the small awning of her front door.
The rain gets a bit harder as I go over there.
“What happened?” I say.
“I locked myself out,” she says, looking up at me, hair sticking to her cheeks. “It’s so stupid. We were having this early meeting today and I just ran out and I didn’t realise I left the keys until I got home and fuck…”
She’s shivering and I just want to peel all those wet clothes off her and stand under a hot shower, pressing her naked body against me until she’s hot, I’m hot, until-
“I called my landlord,” she continues as we can hear the rain on the street now, “but no one’s picking up. I left a message so hopefully she’ll get back to me soon. I don’t want to pay for someone to come out and do the locks. That’s going to cost a fortune!”
“Come on,” I say, holding out my hand. “Come over.”
She looks up at me, and slides her little hand into mine and we run across the street.
“You’re freezin’,” I say, once we get inside. She takes off her coat and her white shirt is just as soaked underneath. It clings and moulds to her body, her breasts, transparent and sensual, and if it wasn’t for the dropping temperature I’d like to stare at her just a bit longer. But the priority now is to get her warm.
“It’s not that bad,” she says, through almost chattering teeth.
“You ain’t gettin’ sick now,” I say, ignoring her, as I go to grab a clean towel. “They ain’t as nice as your ones,” I say handing it to her, “but it’s better than nothin’.”
She waits for a moment, deciding, before coming to the conclusion that a warm shower would indeed be the best choice right now and takes it from me.
“Thanks,” she says and heads over to the bathroom.
I hear the water turn on and all I can think about is how she’s naked right now in my house, in my bathroom, just a door away. Is this a fucking dream? In my mind I see her white shirt, almost seethrough against her skin again. The lace of her lingerie showing through. The outline of her nipples under the wet fabric. And even though I’ve already seen her naked, seen what she looks like under all that, the sight of it still gets to me, begins to fucking torture me.
I hear the water run in the bathroom and all I can think about is her hard pretty little nipples under her shirt. This is not fucking good I think as I feel it get the better of me, my body so used to responding so quick and so hard to these thoughts. But this time it ain’t a fantasy. She was really right there in front of me, wet and beautiful and trembling.
Fuck. Not fucking now. She’s gonna be done any minute. God fucking damn. What the fuck am I supposed to do with this? If I was alone I know exactly what I’d do to relieve this personal tension…
Her wet hair, soaking clothes…
No. Fuck. Stop.
Wait.
Her soaking clothes. Shit. What’s the point of having a hot shower if she ain’t got nothing dry to put on after? I jump up and rifle through my drawers, my closet. None of this shit is going to fit her. Fuck. What’s the best I got?
I hear the water turn off and knock on the door.
“Oi,” I say, finally able to calm my excitement down just in time, “I got some things for you.”
The door opens just a crack and I can see a flash of her soft thighs, a strip of white towel covering the rest as she peeks through the gap.
“Are you sure?” she says.
I can’t believe this woman. For some reason, it’s perfectly fine and fuckin’ dandy to cook for me and hand me towels and look after me when I’m sick but accepting the same herself is fucking impossible. Like I’m doing too much when all I got to offer is a shitty threadbare towel and turning the heat up to the max.
“Just…take it,” I say.
She reaches out her bare hand and grabs the clothes, giving me a quick smile and closes the door again.
“I’ll just hang these up here, ok?” She says as she comes through the living room and then to the table, draping her rain-stained shirt and skirt over the back of two of the chairs. “This brings back memories,” she says, holding her hand up to her mouth as she laughs.
She’s wearing my old PE uniform and the smallest sweatshirt I could find. It looks too big and at the same time fucking adorable. “I’m sure this uniform got a lot more use than my one,” she says.
“Good or bad?” I ask.
“What?”
“Memories. Good or bad?”
“Oh…neutral I guess,” she shrugs. “PE wasn’t really my scene. It’s been so long though now so…”
“Not that long,” I say. “You always make it sound like you’re a fuckin’ century older than me,” I tease.
She thinks for a moment.
“You’re right,” she says, sitting down on the old couch. “It wasn’t that long ago in the grand scheme of things. I guess it feels like it with work and all that. I still feel like I’m your age a lot of the time to be honest. Sometimes I even dream I’m back in high school,” she says. “I’m back there, in uniform, and suddenly I realise, what the fuck am I doing here? It’s strange. Wait, I'm just going to call my landlord again," she says and goes out for a moment.
I hope there's no answer. I hope there is no spare key. I want her to stay the night. Again. But this time I won't be fucking delirious. I want her to fall asleep with me again. I don't know how I'd make it happen but I fucking want it. Maybe selfish but fuck…I want her here.
"No answer again," she says, getting a little frustrated and a little impatient as she comes back. "I left another message. Anyway, what do you want for dinner?”
“Eh? That's my line.” She's my guest for once so.
“I feel kind of bad for someone having to come and deliver in this rain,” she says, as she looks outside into the black evening.
“I don’t,” I say. “I’m fucking starving.”
“What about Mexican?” She says suddenly, full of excitement. “I don’t think we’ve had that before!”
As long as it’s edible I don’t give a fuck. Your wish is my command.
She gets her phone out and starts typing.
“Delilah!” She calls after dinner but there’s no response. “Delilah!” She tries again.
“She’s probably upstairs, starin’ out the window,” I say. She’s been doing that a lot lately. Sitting on my windowsill, watching the world go by, as if antsy to get out there herself.
“Hmm,” she says, “we should probably let her outside soon. I mean, she is a cat. She’ll want to go explore and hunt.”
She gets up and makes her way upstairs and I follow.
She turns the light on in my room and sure enough, the cat’s there, just where I said she’d be.
“There you are!” she says, always so happy to see her.
Delilah meows and walks over the table.
She sees her book, the postcard she got me sticking out of it, my new bookmark. I don’t know why. But I find myself opening that book often, and then I see the postcard, and even if the picture on it ain’t exactly romantic, it reminds me of her, that she’d thought of me when she picked it out, and fuck it sounds sentimental but there it is.
She pets Delilah and picks up A Hero Of Our Time.
“You’re reading it,” she says beaming at me.
“Yeah,” I say, somewhat uncomfortable and I don’t know why. I know that’s why she gave it to me but I also feel like maybe I ain’t supposed to. Like it’s too good for me. Or something fucking stupid like that.
“Do you like it?” She says.
“It’s…interestin’,” I say.
“I’ll take it!” She laughs as she lightly flips through the pages, being careful to not disturb my bookmark.
She suddenly turns to me.
“Read it to me,” she says softly.
“Eh?” I’m suddenly confused. “You mean, read it…as in, out loud?”
“Unless you’ve forgotten how to read,” she winks at me, holdin the book out.
I don’t know…That’s…
“Ah,” she says, retracting her suggestion. “Sorry. That was silly. I just like this one. I like how ironic the whole thing is. The guy is such a piece of shit but everyone refuses to see it. It’s been a while since I’ve read it. It’s ok.”
I remember her saying to her brother, being exhausted after work. I look at her, at all the tiredness she’s hiding under that smile. Fuck my self-consciousness. Fuck my pride. I take the book out of her hand.
“Where from?” I say.
She looks back at me surprised.
“Doesn’t matter. Wherever you stopped. I know the gist of the story.”
And so we sit in bed, her next to me, her shoulder pressed against mine. Delilah sits in her lap and purrs as she strokes her back and I read. I ain’t doing any voices or whatever and I think it must be boring as fuck to her, but when I look over she’s got her eyes closed and she looks relaxed, happy so I don’t stop.
I get to the end where the main protagonist, this so-called hero, kills his friend in a duel. He met his friend, decided he doesn’t particularly fuckin’ like him that much after all and so decides to seduce his woman for shits and giggles. His friend understandly gets fucking pissed and challenges him to a duel and gets killed. And this hero more or less walks away from the whole thing with a shrug. It’s fucking cold.
I can’t fucking stand this asshole. But at the same time…at the same time…I see myself in him. Partly. He doesn’t fit in. He doesn’t care what other people think of him. Unlike me, he is almost universally loved, but he doesn’t care, living for his own banal amusement. He has no connections with people. And neither do I. He walks away from this fight like it’s nothing. I think of myself at the end of a good fight. I give almost no thought to the bastards I leave behind. Because they deserve it. I think all this and I don’t like it. I don’t even realise I stopped reading. Just staring at the opposite wall.
“What is it?” she says, her voice gentle and quiet.
“He’s a fucking asshole,” I say, the book still open.
“Yes, he is,” she agrees.
“Why the fuck does everyone love him then? Why the fuck do the worst fucking bastards get treated like fucking royalty while they walk over everyone?”
She looks at me, somewhat concerned but all I can feel is the fucking rage building inside.
“I don’t know,” she says honestly. “I wonder the same thing sometimes. I think it’s because they don’t care. Because they’re confident. And people are drawn to that.”
But that’s not the thing that’s firing me up most and she can tell.
We sit in tense silence for a moment.
“I’m like him,” I say finally, my jaw aching.
“No-” she starts.
“I’m fucking just like him,” I say and it’s getting harder to control the fury, the heat in my chest, the tense violence building, trying to escape my body.
I’m fucked up and care for fucking no one. I can’t fucking afford to. I’ve missed all my fucking chances and all I got left now is fucking others over, thinking of nothing but my pride. All I got left now is fucking nothing and-
“You’re not,” she says, sitting up, turning to me, Delilah jumping off her lap. “Garou, you’re not. This man, he has no empathy. He hasn’t cared for anyone his whole life. Everything has been handed to him on a silver platter. He doesn’t understand people’s joy or grief or despair. He treats other people as entertainment and he’s never had a difficult day in his life. He’s never had to fight for himself or for others. You, no matter how blind you are to it, are good. You do fucked up things, and you run from the idea, and I don't know why, but you��re good. I don’t know who told you otherwise, and I wish I could beat the shit out of them, but you’re not like that. You're good.” Her hand reaches out and lightly touches my chest.
Why did I run from it? I don't fucking know. Because it felt like a lie. Someone like me couldn't possibly be good. I didn't want to be good. I wanted to be feared. Feared was better than being mocked or pitied. Even if it came at a price. I could not be fucking good and feared at the same time. And I had chosen feared. That was the only way to survive in this world. If you weren't feared, you'd always be a fuckin’ target. That's what I'd always thought. It was too late for me to be good. And I hated hearing it. Because it was no longer possible. And to be honest, that fact stung.
Do I believe I'm good now? No, not particularly. Even though she tries to convince me otherwise. I don't see what the fuck is so good about me. She keeps listing things, but they're never things I do on purpose. And ain't you supposed to do good things consciously? And every time I say no, I ain’t any good. She always has an ace up her sleeve. Always something I can't fight. When I get so fucking stubborn again, insisting I'm no fucking good, she just quietly, softly asks "Do you love me?" And of course she knows the answer. She knows it but I can't not answer her. Yes. I never thought I'd see the day. But I love you. I love you more than fucking life itself. "Yes," I say, never being any fucking good with expressive words that's all I can manage, and she holds my face and says "Thank you", her eyes looking up at me, like she needs me, like I'm an important part of her world. And it fucking rips at my heart. Who wouldn't love you? I think. Why are you thanking me? You could have anyone, and yet you want me. "You are good," she'll repeat, kissing my forehead or pulling me into herself. "You are good for me."
She holds my gaze as she says all these things, each word at once soothing and achingly painful. I don’t know if I want to believe her. I don’t know if I fucking can. I ain’t got no one to blame but myself. For not being stronger, for not being fucking smarter, for letting them walk all over me, for expecting someone to help. I’m still paying for it. I am always paying for it. And the price is fucking high and just keeps on rising. I-
“Ow!” she suddenly turns her neck, pulling her hand away. “Damn,” she says as she rubs a spot on her back, just between her neck and her shoulder, a bit further down. “Sorry, it just keeps aching here,” she winces, sliding her fingers deeper under my t-shirt she’s wearing, lower. “I’m just chained to my laptop all day these last two weeks and…ahh…fuck!” She tries to stretch it out, turning away from me, leaning her head to the right, her hair falling over her shoulder.
I know that. I know that pain. Deep in your muscle.
I put the book down.
“Here?” I say, my hand over hers.
“Yeah,” she sighs painfully as she pulls her hand out.
I move closer. “How bad?” I ask from behind, pressing softly.
“Kinda really bad,” she says as Delilah comes back into her lap. “But also kinda good when you do that.”
She pulls the jumper, the t-shirt a bit off her shoulder, exposing her skin and I can’t help it, slide my hand into the fabric, coming back to the place it hurts but now on her naked skin.
“Yep,” she almost gasps, “right there. Don’t hold back! It hurts but feels really good after.”
I press harder, feeling her bare skin in my hands for the first time. I can’t see her face, but she makes these little sounds, a mix of pain and pleasure that my body follows, reacts to in an intense way, holding her hair out of the way.
And I can’t take it anymore. I can’t stop it. She’s so close, so warm, her scent, the feel of her body under my fingers, under my hand.
I can’t fight it anymore. I've fought many things in my life but this is a fight I know I'm gonna fuckin’ lose. This feeling takes over. It’s animal, a hunger, a pure instinct but also…quiet, patient. I can take this as slow as she wants, but I can’t hold it back any fucking longer.
All those images light up my mind, her naked in the window, her breasts, soaking wet, hard pretty nipples right there, thighs barely covered by my shitty towel…
Her back, her neck are just inches away. And I’m almost there, tasting her skin. I remember the feel of her hands on my face, on my body, I remember waking up next to her. And now this is reality. She's right here. Right in front of me. Her body pulling me closer. I feel my breathing slow down, quiet, almost as if I don't want to disturb the moment. I feel like something inside me is finally going to break apart. She's about to set somethin' loose inside me, insatiable, wanting. She holds her hair out of the way and I’m going to kiss her neck, slide my hands around her waist, up her body, kiss her skin, this place that’s painful until it’s-
Her phone rings and she almost jumps off the bed in surprise and runs out of the room.
The spare key is finally coming.
And I’m left with nothing but frustrated desire, too many memories and too many moments, the feel of her literally slipping out of my hands, threatening to finally tear me apart.
#so close and yet so far!!#garou#garou one punch man#one punch man#opm#garou fanfiction#garou fanfic#opm fanfiction#one punch man fanfiction#fluff#garou fluff#opm fluff#garou x reader#garouxreader#garou x y/n#reader insert#x reader#xreader
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Ugh! Chris appearing w the Horrible Elsa, which is really the devil in a horrible birthday post on his page! I don't support this at all. ....
Related link. .... https://www.instagram.com/p/BmWn4G0l8w0/ Caption from the DREADED N DREADFUL HORRIBLE (devil deception/manipulation planted) photo on the page. ..... 233,896 likes chrishemsworthImmediately after this shot was taken my son viciously attacked me from behind (due to his ninja training) and slammed my face into the flaming candles , I’ll now be playing Deadpool if @vancityreynolds pulls the pin#bestbirthdayever @elsapatakyconfidential Load more comments barbara.areias@gabilprHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHHA ri muito! Ahhahahahhaaa silviadv2🤣 @kelticw12 this needs to happen!! marigaby85You are so gorgeous 😍 happy bday 😘 greetings and love from Venezuela 🇻🇪 irish.eyes.r.smilingHappy Birthday!!! bekka__xdHappy Birthday 💕 spacesprincesshappy bday! ily selimacikgoezHAPPY BIRTHDAY 💛⚡️ stvllisonaND HAPPY BIRTHDAY BB valrsousaQ amor❤️ thepoutingphotographerAnd to think, if they’d offered you more money for Star Trek 4 you could’ve had an even bigger cake. marvel.ruined.meHappy Birthday!! dohajosephHappy brethday jessie_santiago99Happy Birthday 🎂🎉🎈🎁 caripriestThis is soooo precious hbd 💗💗 peenywisesI LOVE U josepeseFelicidades!! vane_2429Happy birthday🎂🍻🎊🎉🎈😉😉 vicii_2503Happy Birthday Chris!!Love you soo much❤And have a great day👍😎 iamwiissemHaha happy birthday author_shay_lee_soleilHappy Birthday Chris!🎂 Lots of love 💓💞💕 from Canada 🇨🇦 🍰🎊🎉 thekingdowneyHBD ILY kruemelthedoodHappy birthday!!! daniellawildsCUTIES iryse.rcFeliz cumpleaños!! 🙌🎉🎊🎂 12 MINUTES AGO Instagram Log in|Sign up ABOUT USSUPPORTPRESSAPIJOBSPRIVACYTERMSDIRECTO --- end caption n some comments from the page of the post/photo -- Here's another birthday post (of an unfamiliar black man singer mentioned as Chris's favorite singer), which it was said means something about that Elsa cannot go on. A more relieving post which does not mention the tormenting devil worshiping n devil superiority figure Elsa Pataky. ..... https://www.instagram.com/p/BmWl8zSFVsj/ Caption n text of some comments on this post linked to immediately above. ..... 193,948 views chrishemsworthOne of my favourite artists@leonbridgesofficial singing me a birthday tune 🙏🙏🙏 thanks @tessamaethompson !! #epic Load more comments ilysmthorTBIS IS SO SKINNY blessed92018Happy birthday to you@chrishemsworth _.s.a.w.m.a.n._Happy birthday Chris 🎂🤩 designsbydenisaHappy birthday!!! lmariane07Happy birthday 😍😍😍 giovnnacChorando com essa dupla thors_poptartsB E A U T Y yarennkrmzzhappy birthday ı love you 💕💕💕💕 mumshoes1Have a very Happy Birthday Chris badalyansonyaHAPPY BIRTHDAY❤️ rawal_shovaHappy birthday Chris 😘😘😘😘💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕love u mackenziemainkahappy birthday chris!!! ❤️ sara17508Happy Birthday [email protected] me idontgive_adamnhappy birthday THORR _elenipapadopoulouHAPPY BIRTHDAY CHRIS! YOU WILL ALWAYS BE MY FAV ACTOR AND, MORE SPECIFICALLY, THOR dwina.simaHapppyyyy biirrrthhdayyyy crisoliver89Happy birthday 🎂🎊🎉🎈🎁@chrishemsworth !!! _zayn_46Happy birthday lillygephart_Happy Birthday dad lol domingueslaris@namelessgabe sem condições support_the_weirdHAPPY BIRTHDAY CHRISSSSS maigrimbergHAPPY BIRTHDAY !!!💖💕💓💗💘💝💝💞💕💕💖💖 I LOVE YOU SO MUCH❤️❤️ inact1ve.bHAPPY BIRTHDAY AGAIN ❤️ sophielouisec_xHappy Birthday 🎈🎂🎁🎉 innocent_maaz_007Nice jamavendanoHappy Bday ♥️♥️♥️ anninha6935😚🎂🎈🎉🎉🎉🎈🎈❤ edenbarnatan@yaelbn123 כריס בתגובה: ״תודה נשמה״ kaylie.sHAPPY BIRTHDAY KING⚡️💛 michellehayden1872Happy birthday Chris 🎉🎂😊🎉💖 teisel_eiselHappy birthday🎈🎁🎊❤️ lilys_postsHappy Birthday!!!! Hope your day is amazing fred11_22T lisaannewagHappy Birthday 🎁🎂 caglairmakacarhappy birthday bby ily
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9 people you want to get to know better
i got tagged by @quinnorion — thank you so much, darling! 💖
last song: 'sun may shine' by tamino — personally, when i feel the need to relax and unwind from the frenzy of the everyday life, tamino is my go-to artist. fun fact: this is one of my favourite songs from him (the other one being 'indigo night');
currently watching: 'friends' — i maaay have forgotten how much i love this show (*bell ringing in the distance* shame! shame! shame!). also: chandler, beloved ♥️
currently reading: 'the ballad of songbirds and snakes' by suzanne collins — i have to confess that, so far, this book has not disappointed me in the slightest. i started reading it maybe a month ago but i reached a slump of sort and put it on pause, lmao;
current obsession: aside from interactive fictions and kpop comebacks, i'd have to say 'the sims 4', lol. i do have a love/hate relationship with this game: at times, i could play it for hours while other times i do not open it for months.
tagging: @kdelarenta, @sohmiya, @griffin-wood, @sagedumortain, @leondaltons, @pearlcscent (yes, it's not 9 people, i know) — please, feel free to ignore this 😌
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Hii! First of all I love your writing <3 may I request a sub! Larissa dom! wife! shapeshifter Reader plot where they get into a fight in Larissa’s office and it turns into a heated smutty smut. Also Reader is strong enough to lift Larissa up against the wall, but it comes out in the heat of the moment so it surprises Larissa, but ofc she loves it. If you don’t like the idea that’s completely fine!:) have a great day!!
Heyyy anon! Thank you for the request!! We could always use more Sub!Larissa content out there. Hope you Enjoy ♥️
On and On ~Sub!Larissa Weems xFem Dom!Wife!Shapeshifter!Reader
Mommy… Master List
Requests & Prompt-List
Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!!, fighting, Dom/Sub relations, smut, shapeshifting d!ck, g!p Reader, fingering, p in v, desk fucking, office fucking, more implied fucking, kissing, etc.
Enjoy (;
“There is ‘Ris! There is a monster out there!! In the woods! We have to do something about it!!” You gritted out, getting annoyed at your wife’s persistence.
At your words, Larissa rolled her eyes and put her pen down. You were on the other side of her desk, standing tall and screaming up a storm.
“Enough already.” Larissa boomed, standing up and meeting your gaze downward.
The blonde was gracious that the door was closed and no one could hear your raised voice. You huffed and crossed your arms.
“There. Is. No. Monster.” She bluntly stated.
“Fine then.” You sneered, “It’s almost dark, I’ll just go for a walk through the woods then…!”
You then huffed away and to the door. But the tall principal swiftly stopped you, trapping your wrist harshly before you could open the door.
“Don’t. You. Dare.” She seethed.
Your fiery eyes turned from the door and up to the gaze of your wife. You matched her gaze as her eyes faltered slightly. The air seemed to flip on itself. The mood changed. A passionate gust of courage entered your lungs, and you found yourself swiftly cornering the blonde.
Larissa gasped at the change in dominance, and her grip at your wrist loosened. You then pressed your lips against hers, but pulled away as the woman eagerly responded.
“So I was right… there is a monster.” You whispered with a smirk into her lips.
“Oh shut up…” the blonde murmured, before colliding her lips down to yours.
This kiss was way more hurried and passionate compared to your last peck. It escalated quickly as well, little whimpers leaving your wife’s lips. Your tongue slid into her wet cavern with ease, and in the heat of the moment, you lifted Larissa up against the wall, earning you a squeak from the woman. But the blonde quickly understood and hooked her legs around your waist. Your lips continued to ravage hers.
Before Larissa could protest for you to lock the door or for it to be not here, your hand was quick to hike up under her dress, three fingers grazing her underwear before plunging into her core.
“Ohhhh God…!” Larissa’s head hit the wall as her eyes rolled back and she whimpered in pleasure.
You set a skilled and harsh pace, fucking her cunt quickly, as the blonde held onto you and grinded on your hand for dear life.
“That’s it… This is what you wanted…?” You teased.
The blondes head then curled up in your shoulder as she nodded vigorously.
“Yes… don’t stop…!!” She choked out.
You continued to finger your wife until she was muffling the screams of your name into your shoulder, biting down hard and most defiantly leaving a mark. Before the tall principal got a chance to recover, you carried her to her desk. You placed her on the edge of the desk, while you quickly stripped your pants and shapeshifted your nether region.
Larissa looked at you with anticipation and her mouth was watering. She began to unzip her dress as well, but you stopped the woman and simply rolled the dress up.
“Don’t…” you hummed, lining up your shapeshifted dick with her needy sex.
She nodded breathlessly. You sunk into her without another word. You both groaned in pleasure. Both of your hips rocked recklessly against one another. You smashed your lips against hers, making the blonde moan out ever more.
“please…” Larissa whined into your lips.
“Nuh uh…” you hummed, “Not yet…”
At your words, the blonde groaned into your lips. Her hips bucked into your frame desperately.
“I want to hear you say it…” you murmured, “Say I was right and I’ll take you to bed…”
Now Larissa pulled back. She looked at you. You bit your lip cheekily and quirked your head to the side.
“I… you’re right. There is a monster…” the tall woman whispered, “please…”
With her words, you smiled and pressed your lips to hers once more. You then carried your wife without another word into her side quarters, as she sat on your dick.
“Please please please…” the blonde chanted.
“You’re so pretty when you beg…” you teased, collapsing onto the bed on top of Larissa, all the while continuing your thrustings.
~~~
Larissa Weems Masterlist
#sub!larissa#sub!larissa weems#g!p reader#larissa weems smut#larissa weems#larissa weems x reader#gwendoline christie#gwendolineuniverse#Gwendoline Christie character#Gwendoline Christie x reader#cissyenthusiast010155 answers
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Omg I am in love with your writing! Gahhh!!!!
Can you do #49 with Larissa? Also can the reader be a short haired, more masc dressing? I can't wait for your next mind blowing story, I straight up live for these!
Heyy anon!! Thanks you for your kind words! ♥️ I absolutely would love to write this. Here’s a fluff piece for you with a Masc!Presenting!Reader. Enjoy!! 💞💞
Convince Me, Darling ~Larissa Weems xFem Masc!Presenting!Reader
Mommy… Master List
Requests & Prompt-List
#49. “You look so good when you beg...”
Warnings: fluff, teasing, hair ruffling, kissing, flustering, carrying, implied smut, etc…
Enjoy (;
You sauntered towards the principals office, having finished all your grading for the day. You knocked on Larissa’s door and entered as she called you in. You closed the door behind you.
“Hey ‘Ris…!” You quipped, coming over to the woman.
Larissa looked up and took a double take of your outfit.
“Lovely suit. I have never seen you in a brown one before…” Larissa noted with a hum, before continuing to type something on her computer.
“Thanks!” You exclaimed lightly, blushing a little and taking another look at your fir for the day.
It was a completely brown suit with elements of orange. Very well suited for the cold Vermont weather and your more masculine taste in fashion. After a minute or so, your mind went back to Larissa.
“How’s your work load?” You asked caringly.
Larissa sighed deeply, leaning back in her chair and resting her hands on the back of her neck.
“Ridiculous…” she huffed.
You hummed in recognition and nodded. You gave her a loving look of concern and care.
“Why don’t… we take a Break…?” You suggestively offered.
The blonde’s eyes met Your mischievous ones.
“What did you have in mind…?” She suspiciously hummed.
You smirked, leaning forward on the desk and clasping your hands together, and wiggling your ass that was now sticking out lightly. Larissa watched your every movement intently.
“Your bedroom…” you playfully teased, tilting your head at the woman.
Larissa chuckled, coming forward and sitting up straight. Her hand then came to your head, her fingers resting playfully running through your short hair, ruffling it up a bit.
“Oi!” You exclaimed playfully, “I styled that…!”
Larissa couldn’t contain her laughter now. You stuck your tongue out at her playfully and immediately brought your own hand up to your hair to try and repair the horrendous damage that the blonde had caused.
“I apologize, Darling…” Larissa chuckled, “You are merely irresistible.”
She sent you wink which made you blush again.
“Irresistible enough to convince you to follow me to the bedroom…?” You teased coyly.
Her gaze darkened slightly, and her face seemed to reflect that she had had an idea. She clasped her hands together and placed her head on them, looking at you with amusement.
“Convince me” Larissa coyly responded.
Your mouth went dry and was agape for a second. You quickly closed it, gulping in response to the blonde’s words.
“I… convince you…?” You stammered.
Larissa nodded, sitting back in her chair, with her clasped hands in her lap.
“Oh ummm ok…” you chuckled dryly, shuffling your feet a little.
You took a deep breath and began,
“Baby, please come to bed with me…” you asked, putting your most pouty face on your face.
“Hmmmm…” Larissa hummed aloud, “You can do better, Darling.” She concluded.
You poutly aloud at her answer. But nodded nonetheless.
“Please ‘Ris, please come to bed…” you pled with the woman, “You need a break from all your work… I haven’t seen you all day… Please come with me”
Larissa watched you intently, listening and tilting her head at you. Her clasped hands came up to her lips, tapping them lightly, before going back to her lap.
You bit your inner check, balancing your weight on one foot and then another. You impatiently waited for the blonde’s answer.
“‘Rissa, Sweetheart, please.” You added for extra measure, “Trust me. I can help… Let me help”
Larissa smirked and nodded. She stood up and came around to you. With ease, the woman picked you up in her arms, making you yelp.
“You look so good when you beg...” she teasingly purred.
You blushed and giggled lightly.
“Alright, Darling…” Larissa gave in, walking you to her private quarters, “One round…”
You nodded eagerly, crashing your lips into hers passionately.
~~~
Larissa Weems Masterlist
#larissa weems x reader#larissa weems#larissa weems fluff#principal weems#principal weems x reader#principal weems fluff#gwendoline is mommy#gwendoline christie#gwendolineuniverse#gwen christie#Gwendoline Christie character#Gwendoline Christie x reader#wednesday#wednsday addams#wednesday netflix#wednesday fluff#wednesday x reader#wednesday fandom#wednesday fanfic#wednesday fic#fem!reader#female reader#female!reader#fem reader#masc reader#masc!reader
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