Work Text:
Larissa had been ranting for ages.
This was hardly the first time that one of them had come into the other's chambers to discuss issues they were having with their students - far from it. Usually the evening was accompanied by a glass of wine, or perhaps a light snack, and plenty of light-hearted banter.
Even when a situation had a touch of severity to it, they would usually hash out all the details, come up with some sort of solution or remedy, and by the end of the night they could spend their leisure time cuddled up, watching some melodrama or romantic comedy.
Or making love, of course.
But this wasn’t that kind of night, and this issue did not just have a touch of severity - it had been picked up, throttled, and thrown against a wall with it.
There was wine involved, but only one party had decided to partake tonight. When Larissa silently offered Laurel a glass of white (a 1974 sauvignon blanc), the botanist had turned her down, citing a funny tummy. It was the truth, too, as her stomach had been tied up in knots all day. All the deep breathing and dissociative episodes in the world couldn’t relieve the stress that was currently wreaking havoc on her internal organs.
As Larissa paced, sipping her wine and divulging the struggles of her day, Laurel kept her eyes pointed downward. Details of Wednesday’s meddling and the anxieties coursing through the entire student body passed through her ears, making little impression, while she vaguely watched still-stockinged feet pass over hardwood.
Until they came to a stop.
“Have you even been listening to a single thing I’ve said?” Weems asked, frustration evident in her voice.
Laurel glanced up towards her face and then quickly looked down again, her eyes settling on the buttons of Larissa’s shirt. She discovered that the top two had come undone at some point.
“Hello! Earth to Marilyn!”
“Yes! Sorry! I have absolutely been listening.” Laurel tried to recall specific details of her woes. “You were talking about Wednesday, and how she’s been…”
There was a pause.
Fuck.
“God, Marilyn, is that really all you can muster?” Larissa spoke, her voice carrying a touch of venom to it. “While I’ll be the first to admit that these little rendezvous of ours are less than professional, I feel I’d be remiss to not remind you that you are Wednesday’s dorm mother. She is, in fact, your responsibility, and yet somehow she always manages to slip through your fingers and get herself and the whole of Nevermore into trouble! Riddle me that!”
Laurel’s mouth had come slightly agape as she floundered for a response. She shifted her position on the bed, the fingers of her left hand slightly clenching at the quilt below her, seeking some sort of comfort. What on earth was she supposed to say? The only way to make this better for Larissa was to ruin everything for herself.
“And now you can’t even deign to give me a response!” The taller woman scoffed, stepping slightly closer. “Absolutely ridiculous.”
“I’m sorry, Larissa- really I am!” Laurel choked out, her eyes darting to the texture of the wall behind the other woman, rather than her face. She already knew the frustrated expression she was sporting - why put herself through the pain of looking at it?
“I just-,” she stumbled on her words for a moment more, cutting herself off and trying to start over more than once. “I don’t know what you need me to say right now. I feel like I’ve been doing everything wrong, and I don’t want to mess this up! I don’t know what you want me to do.”
“Well, you could start by looking me in the eye.” Larissa said.
Laurel tried.
She really, really tried - but her eyes simply wouldn’t cooperate.
They kept glossing over the deep blue pools of her lover's eyes and trying to settle on her eyebrows, her hair, her quivering lips - anywhere but her eyes.
“I…” she stammered, words of comfort refusing to come out.
“God, fucking LOOK AT ME, MARILYN!”
Larissa lunged forward - her left hand planting itself on the bed by Laurel’s side, and her right coming to grip her chin.
Laurel felt entirely too small.
She was being totally engulfed by her lover, and their faces were mere inches away. She could smell her perfume, and the fruity notes of the wine Larissa had been drinking. It would have been intoxicating, if she wasn’t already inebriated by confusion and guilt.
“Please…” Larissa said, pain making her voice soft and shaky, “just look at me.”
Laurel squeezed her eyes shut.
“I can’t.”
And she truly could not.
All the deceit - the half truths, the omissions, the avoidance, and the blatant lies - had rendered her completely unable to even look at the one person that had become important to her.
Laurel heard Larissa let out a strong puff of breath through her nose, and felt the dip in the bed next to her begin to rise once more, as she removed her hand from the mattress. She nearly had the courage to open her eyes back up, when Larissa spoke again.
“Fine,” she said, “have it your way.”
Just as Laurel’s eyes dared to flutter open, she felt a pair of strong hands grab her by the shoulders, and flip her around. She nearly cried out, but censored herself to just a small squeak.
She felt herself being pressed onto the mattress, her knees instinctively bending beneath her body and her stomach touching the bedspread below. Then, she felt the mattress dip, and heard the bed springs squeak slightly as another body began to cover her own.
Her eyes were open now, wide and glossy with adrenaline and disorientation, but she found she could not turn her head, as there was a hand on the back of her neck. There was no need to look behind herself, however, to know that Larissa was straddling the backs of her spread thighs to keep her in place.
Not that she would have chosen to move anyway.
With her free hand, Larissa teasingly dragged her fingers up Laurel’s left side, bringing forth goosebumps beneath her blouse.
“If you tell me to leave now, I will stop and return to my own quarters.”
Laurel tried not to gape at her words. As if she would want to be anywhere else.
This compromising position was the least of what she deserved right now - it was more a privilege than anything.
A privilege she didn’t deserve.
If she was more self-ashamed, she would have told Larissa to leave.
She would have let herself be abandoned, and forced to wallow in her own thoughts, with an unfulfilled ache between her legs.
She deserved that, and far worse.
But Laurel had figured out long ago that she was a narcissist at heart, so, with a soft whimper, she spoke.
“Please,” she whined, “don’t leave me.”
Larissa took her cue.
She pulled Laurel up by her chin and held her there as she unbuttoned her shirt with her other hand. Her fingers were nimble and efficient, pulling every fastening out with practiced ease. It took everything in the redhead to hold back her noises of pleasure, but she managed.
“I do wish you would speak to me about whatever is going on inside that pretty head of yours,” Larissa said, “but I suppose I’ll have to settle for moans of ecstasy.”
As the last button came undone, Laurel finally allowed herself a low groan. She felt the cool air of the room hit her chest, and the gooseflesh stood at full attention. She had long since removed her bra for the sake of evening comfort, but she had almost wished she hadn’t. It was so much more satisfying when Larissa removed it for her.
Laurel felt the taller woman’s hand snake upwards, teasing and scraping at exposed flesh with her nails before palming and at her breast. She felt both her nipples harden with the combined efforts of Larissa’s hand, and the cool air around them. She whimpered as her flesh was manipulated and teased, more sounds of pleasure being drawn from her lips with every passing moment.
But she knew Larissa was only just beginning.
Just as quickly as the sinful touches started, they stopped, leaving one breast aching for the return of the delicious contact it had been enjoying, and the other neglected of any at all.
Laurel felt her lover back off from her slightly, before abruptly pulling her blouse the rest of the way off. She pushed her back face-down on the bed - the texture of the comforter becoming familiar to her cheek by now.
Larissa traced both hands along her naked sides, dipping into the curve of her waist and stopping at the waistband of her skirt. Laurel felt two fingers - one from each hand - slip beneath the fabric and tug softly at it. She groaned softly at the tease, before letting out a yelp as the garment was ripped from her hips, pulled down her legs, and tossed unceremoniously to the floor.
She breathed heavily, and unevenly, as Larissa stood up from behind her, making her way over to what they called simply, The Drawer. Capitalization was required.
“Don’t you dare move.” Larissa said, “If you move, I will stop, and leave you here, aching for me, without a moment more of pleasure.”
Laurel swallowed. She dared not move in her exposed state. With just her underwear shielding her from the world around her, she felt vulnerable and entirely at the mercy of the other woman.
This was just how she needed it.
She stayed still and in position, ass pointed to the sky and face taking on the indents of the stitching beneath it. She heard the hardware of The Drawer slide open with ease, as Larissa searched for whatever it was she was looking for.
As Larissa approached the bed and the prone figure upon it once more, she began to strip as well. First came her jacket, with her button down following shortly after. Her skirt soon followed the other two garments, joining them in a small pile on the wood floor below. Finally, she unhooked her bra, and slid her stockings and underwear down her legs, tossing them beside her as she felt her knees touch the edge of the mattress once again.
She placed the toy she had chosen on the comforter beside Marilyn, just out of where her eyeshot would be, if her face had been pointed in that direction. She allowed the tension to expand even further, like a rubber band being pulled taught, as she gazed upon her lover from the back.
They both wore sensible, comfortable underwear, as they had both outgrown full-time wear of pretty undergarments about 15 years ago (at the very least). It made more sense to wear simple cotton things while doing paperwork all day, or teaching high schoolers which plants could kill them and which could cure. Today, it seemed, was no exception for Marilyn, as her blush-pink colored briefs had begun to stain a shade darker with her wetness.
Larissa bit back a smirk. She had barely done anything to the woman and she was already sopping. She couldn’t exactly tease her for it though, without being a complete hypocrite. The heat between her own legs was already punctuated with a slickness at the apex of her thighs, and she wasn’t even the one being touched.
Through her thoughts, Larissa could feel her lover becoming restless, so she moved forward to touch her once more.
Laurel sighed as Larissa’s hands finally made contact with her again. The woman’s hands were splayed over each thigh, slightly massaging the muscle and soft tissue, making their way up and down and up again.
When she felt just on the edge of impatience, Larissa slid a thumb over her wet center, and Laurel let out an absolutely sinful moan.
“Oh, darling,” Larissa said, teasingly, “I’ve hardly even touched you yet.”
She made a few passes over the length of her cunt with her thumb, before slipping in under the fabric and onto the flesh below. Laurel was hot and slick with need, and made a breathy, whimpering sound as she felt her.
Larissa chuckled softly.
“And yet you’re being so patient.” She leaned over to her partner’s ear, “Such a good girl.”
Laurel let a full whine out at that, the praise making her throb with want.
“Please,” she said softly, “please, please fuck me, Larissa”
Larissa inhaled sharply.
“So you’ll beg for my touch, but you won’t even look me in the eye?” She questioned, “You’re lucky you’re as gorgeous as you are.”
With that, she pulled Marilyn’s underwear down, finally exposing her fully. She felt the smaller woman tense beneath her, before relaxing into her own vulnerability. She smiled slightly, and picked up the toy she had picked.
If she was feeling more playful, she would have commented on what a fantastic investment this piece had been to their collection, but she could tell the mood wasn’t quite right for that.
Instead, she set about inserting the smaller side into her own body, feeling slightly proud of herself for the way it slipped in so easily - so naturally. Her cunt hugged onto the toy, enjoying the feeling of holding something within it. She brought both knees up to the top of the mattress, kneeling behind Marilyn, and grabbed at the tops of her thighs.
Once she positioned her hips exactly where she wanted them, she slid herself forward. Her own hips lined up perfectly with Marilyn’s for a moment, before shifting down to slide the toy along the length of her, purposefully not entering.
Laurel moaned as she recognized the toy. It was one of her favorites, and perhaps if the mood was lighter, she would have made a comment stating that.
But, the air was heavy around them both, the heat from their bodies creating almost a bubble of humidity and desire. Laurel rocked herself backwards just the tiniest bit to feel the silicone of the toy rub against herself, before Larissa gripped her tightly with her nails.
“Uh, uh, little one,” she tutted, “you are absolutely not ready for me yet. Or have you forgotten that we need to prepare you first?”
Laurel reluctantly steadied herself again, a long, loud whine passing her lips before she could stop it.
“Oh, I know my darling,” Larissa spoke lowly, “I ache for you too. But, we don’t want you getting hurt on my cock, do we?”
Larissa watched as Marilyn shook her head almost imperceptibly, and she chuckled before proceeding.
She brought two fingers - the middle and the ring of her right hand - up to Marilyn’s mouth, pressing them to her lips in a command.
Laurel obeyed without question, her delicate lips parting and taking the fingers in. She suckled and coated them with her saliva, understanding the task provided to her without any instruction. She moaned.
“Good girl.” Larissa spoke.
The fingers were removed shortly thereafter, and Larissa brought them down to Marilyn’s dripping center. She hardly needed the extra lubrication, but it was a nice added touch.
Laurel felt the two fingers plunge forward into her cunt, sending a wave of pleasure through her, and making her knees weak. She somehow managed to keep herself upright as Larissa pushed her fingers in and out, spreading her open and making her entrance ready for her cock.
When the anticipation and suspense were becoming just a bit too much for her, Larissa mercifully withdrew her fingers, giving Laurel a moment to rest, before she began to press their toy into her body.
Even though she had been stretched beforehand, the toy still stung a bit upon entry. Laurel wasn’t complaining though - the pain added to her pleasure. Besides, they had decided together on a thicker model.
She moaned loudly as Larissa bottomed out within her, the taller woman’s hips pressing up against her backside. She whimpered a bit as she held still for a moment, before Larissa pulled back and began to set a slow, firm pace.
The speed was torturous, Larissa’s hips never quite moving fast enough for Laurel. She would bring herself back, and then push forward on her body at a near-painfully slow speed, but the way everything else felt more than made up for the slowness.
The way Larissa’s nails dug into her side as she guided her hips - the feeling of her bare chest pressing up against her back- the ache of her neck as it was bent at this strange angle - it all felt amazing. It made her feel real. Alive.
After a while of slow, purposeful thrusting, Larissa slipped one graceful hand under Laurel’s stomach, reaching to the frontmost part of her cunt. Her fingers made contact with the most sensitive part of Laurel’s body, and for a moment it was like her vision had been intercepted by TV static. If she hadn’t removed her glasses ages ago, she was sure her vision would have blurred completely out of focus, even with them on.
Laurel squeezed her eyes shut and let out a deep moan as Larissa delicately circled her clit. The taller woman smiled, allowing her free hand to slither up the other’s back to land firmly in her hair. She gripped at the strands beneath her fingers, and gave a gentle tug. Laurel let out a gasp at that, before crying out entirely as Larissa pulled her hair upwards, bringing her head and upper body with her.
They were both upright now - back to chest - and Laurel was practically keening with pleasure. Now that her arms were no longer occupied with keeping herself upright, she moved one hand to grip tightly onto Larissa’s thigh, and the other to tangle itself into her hair.
Larissa growled slightly at the tugging of her hair, and increased her pace, thrusting harder and faster than before. Her lover could hardly contain herself at that, squirming and moaning and crying out and she came closer and closer to the edge of outstanding pleasure.
Larissa could feel her own peak building, as the toy rubbed against the softest spot of her insides- each thrust sending a low wave of pleasure through her. It was enough to make her legs feel unsteady, but she kept herself stable and upright for Marilyn’s sake.
“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” She asked her small lover, “Do you know how many times I’ve thought about having you in exactly this position?”
Laurel let out a guttural moan, words failing her as she approached orgasm. She threw back her head, and felt Larissa’s hand travel from her hair to settle around her throat. She squeezed the sides ever so slightly, and Laurel’s noises of pleasure became higher and higher pitched as she approached release.
“But, Marilyn, I don’t understand…” her voice had taken on a softer, breathier tone. She was close. “Why won’t you look at me?”
Laurel could hear the pain and desperation in Larissa’s voice. It was thick with unshed tears as well as a deep pleasure. The two of them traveled in tandem towards climax, Laurel’s journey unexpectedly coming quicker to completion as Larissa sped up the fingers teasing her clit, and gave a few particularly firm thrusts.
She squeezed her eyes shut as high pitched, desperate moans passed her lips. As her nose scrunched and her teeth clenched, she could hear Larissa’s own moans of pleasure, signaling that she was entirely too close to tipping as well.
“Please, Marilyn,” Larissa breathed into her ear, “come for me.”
The intensity of the words spoken directly to her soul, as well as the pain from use of her incorrect name, sent her tumbling over the edge. She was sure there were noises pouring from her lips, but the world was far too out of focus for her to hear them.
In time with Marilyn’s pleasured keening, Larissa tipped over the edge of pleasure herself. It was a deep, low type of orgasm, punctuated with each thrust of her hips into her lover’s body. She knew it was nowhere near as intense as the red-head’s, but it was satisfying nonetheless.
As they both came down from their highs, Laurel found she could no longer support herself, and her legs turned to jelly as she collapsed forward. Larissa followed soon after, a deep moan sneaking out from her throat as she blanketed the smaller woman.
They were still adjoined by the silicone instrument between the two of them, but Larissa could feel her core begin to grow slightly sore, and could only imagine what Marilyn felt like right now. She made gentle shushing noises as she brought her hand between them and began to slowly pull the toy out from Marilyn’s body.
Laurel let out a whine at the movement, and loss of something filling her, but was grateful that she could relax her muscles fully. She laid down fully and slumped to one side hearing Larissa pull the other end of the toy out from herself, and her stand up to place it in the To Be Cleaned basket that they kept on top of The Drawer.
The taller woman came back, sliding into the bed next to Laurel and pulling a sheet over the two of them. For a moment, everything felt perfect. The sheet protected their bodies - slightly sheened with sweat - from the cool air around them, without being too heavy. Larissa’s body perfectly engulfed Laurel’s from the back, with her long legs pressing against her own, and a hand crossing over her stomach and chest to rest upon an exposed breast.
Everything was perfect.
Until it wasn’t.
Laurel felt the anxiety from before begin to weave itself back into her mind. Even an earth-shattering orgasm couldn’t keep the guilt away for long, as her stomach began to twist up in knots again.
She sat for a moment in her discomfort.
Whatever happened next would no doubt change the trajectory of… well, everything.
“Larissa…” She said, desperation slipping through the breathlessness of her voice, “Larissa, I can’t do this anymore.”
The other woman shifted away slightly, the bed creaking as she moved. Laurel could feel that she had only moved a small amount, but the distance was already gnawing away at her heart. The two of them sat up.
While Larissa was just a few inches away, trying to get a better look at her, Laurel knew that once she opened her mouth and the truth came out, she would want to be as far away from her as humanly possible.
But she had reached a breaking point.
She couldn’t keep this secret any longer.
It was too painful.
…
“I have to tell you something.”