THAT IS THE JANE MURDSTONE ONE!!! (I went feral when I came up with the title so thank you for the acknowledgement hahaha)
I was going to post a snippet today anyway (actually I was toying with posting part 1 today or tomorrow ahaha) so HERE YOU GO! (also hi friend hehe)
As Jane rises to her feet, her thoughts, regrettably, lingering on you, she feels a tickle in the back of her throat. She begins to cough . It takes several seconds for the cough to ease up, and when it does there is a strange burning in her lungs that has her pressing her hand to her chest.
She turns to find your hesitant gaze upon her.
“Are you feeling ill, milady? Shall I make you a mustard plaster?”
Jane scoffs. She doesn’t feel ill. “Don’t be absurd, girl. It will pass. Fetch me some pepper tea and begin the rest of your duties, before you fall behind.”
Thought you could bury me? Think again! The angst fae is back with a new installment on my ongoing Larissa/Reader fanfic.
You can find the new chapter over on AO3 (and it's a steamy one! ) but here's a lil appetizer if you want:
Rating: Mature
You can put your hands on me, darling. It's not going to hurt you. On the contrary, I have it on good authority it's quite - Oh yes roll your hips like that again - quite pleasant.”
Larissa Weems was gorgeous, you knew that already. Hell, most of Jericho -and probably the world- would have agreed with you on that one. But what you had never expected was to be able to see her as she was now, her knees framing your body, a hand bracing behind you on the headboard, the other one splayed on your chest, the soft curves of her body jiggling tantalizingly above you as she moved.
There were not enough words to describe Larissa's beauty as she rode you.
Day 7 of @of-apollo 's Flufftober Fest and the prompt was "Borrowed Jacket" so I thought I'd do a kinda sequel to my previous ficlet, Caught in the Rain, this one from Agnes' PoV.
Agnes pulled the jacket tighter around her, feeling the warmth it brought her, a warmth that seemed to be starting from the inside. The arm still draped on her shoulders seemed to add to that warmth, but Agnes had a feeling it had little to do with the fact that her professor, like all werewolves, had a higher body temperature.
It had more to do with the mix of emotions she had felt in Miss Capri’s voice, and in her light touch on her shoulders. Worry. Protectiveness. Care.
Agnes was almost overwhelmed by them all. Nobody had ever seen her. Nobody had ever cared. She never made any friends in normie school, and even at Nevermore, it had been way more difficult than she had anticipated. And her family…well the least she thought about them, the better.
Lost in her thoughts, she let Miss Capri guide her out of the rain and into her study, where she felt the soft weight of a blanket being put on her shoulders, and she watched as her professor put on the electric kettle and prepared a pot of what seemed to be tea, placing a cup in front of her.
–There you go. Drink up, it'll help you warm up.
Agnes picked up the cup, relishing in the warmth that seeped into her cold hands just by holding it.
But she couldn't bring herself to drink, she had to ask what was on her mind before that.
–Why do you even care? I am in your class, but it's not like I am a star student. I hadn't even touched a musical instrument before I came here.
Silly Agnes, she reprimanded herself, you shouldn't question it. This way she'll be angry at you and she'll think twice before caring again.
But Miss Capri didn't seem to be angry at her. She sat in the chair in front of her, and took a sip from her own cup of tea, pointedly looking at the one still cradled in Agnes' slowly warming fingers. Agnes took a tentative sip, and felt the beverage add to the warmth spreading through her, as her hands shook a little.
Miss Capri nodded, satisfied with that first sip.
–I care for you, Agnes, not because of any academic merit. Even if you weren't taking my class at all, we'd be having this conversation, and I would be offering you tea I expect you to keep drinking – another pointed stare and Agnes took another sip, this time recognizing the sweet undertones of linden flowers and chamomile.
–I care because Nevermore is first and foremost a community for us outcasts. We have to look after each other, if nobody else does. That's the reason why such a school exists. It falls to us older generations to be there for the younger ones, the way we wished someone had been there for us, when we were your age.
Agnes' eyes snapped to Miss Capri's at that last sentence, feeling the whisper of a long gone, but never forgotten pain in the woman's voice. She met those older, warm eyes and maybe for the first time ever in her young life, she felt understood.
What??? A comfort fluffy fic from the Angst Fairy themselves? Well, what can I say. I like to try things out. Also I love a challenge. Also, it felt right to write this fic today and so I did (who am I to argue with the Muses?). All of that aside, I hope you enjoy!
Tags: Fluff, Comfort, Nightmares, Established Relationship, Second-Person POV, Teacher!Reader, Ungendered Reader, Lots of Cuddling. Wordcount: 1.719 words. AO3 link in title below!
This fic is dedicated to all the people who have offered me comfort. There's many out there, and you all know who you are and are all precious to me, but in particular I want to mention Cat and Cal @tenderheartgrumpymind, @scream-queenlover, @bigolgay, and @heidsworld. I am grateful for all of you.
Nightmares (Larissa/Reader)
You looked at her silhouette in the darkness. She was by your side, the faint light from the stars filtering through the window just to glide on her chiseled cheekbones, kissing her forehead, for once relaxed in the deep embrace of sleep, where no worries could reach her and no decisions had to be taken. Her breath came out in slow, rhythmic puffs, so soft that you could only hear them thanks to the total tranquility of the night around you. Usually that would be enough. You’d wake up in the night, and just fall asleep after a little while, allowing yourself in the meantime to bask in her beauty, in how lucky you were to see this side of Larissa Weems. The side that had shed her armor, the signs of her power. The side with her hair rolled up and held in place by a silken scarf. It had taken so long to get to this point. For your relationship to progress far enough for her to trust you with the whole of herself.
She had been cautious at the start. You could see she was holding back, giving you her whole attention but not her whole heart. You could understand why. The both of you were not at your first relationship, you both had been hurt, you both had been burned. You knew that sometimes it’s easy to get caught up in the excitement of something new, of a new special connection with someone, just to discover that that that person was not at all how you had imagined them to be, or maybe they were, but still for all the affection held for one another, you simply weren’t compatible.
And so people came and go, and you both had found yourself older, and less trusting towards potential partners. Always expecting something to go wrong, because it had always done so. You could see the same reticence in Larissa and – maybe paradoxically – you had been reassured by that.
And as time had proven, it had not been a flash in the pan. While the physical attraction was there and undeniable (how could it not? It was Larissa Weems you were talking about! The closest thing to a goddess that the earth was blessed with!), it was not and had never been just sex between you two, there had always been hope to see it become something else, something more – and the determination to try your best to make it so.
Date after date, evening in front of the fire after evening in front of the fire, you had slowly grown to know Larissa. She had opened up to you as you had to her – the good, the bad, the ugly. She had slowly let the “perfect principal” mask fall, and had shown you her flaws, she had candidly told you how she was aware of many of them, how she still was working on them, trying to get better at them.
“I had given up, you know?” she had confided in you once, as you were sipping wine staring at the flames dancing in the fireplace “I thought, well, I thought I was too old. What’s the point of trying to change after 40? I am already too set in my ways. Ha. Ironic, isn’t it? A shapeshifter who can’t change.” She had snorted at that. A loud, inelegant sound that was perfect precisely because it wasn’t perfect. It was real. “But then I saw you. You came to Nevermore and you took each day as a personal challenge. You brought so much good to the academy, to the students, to the staff itself! You fixed things that I hadn’t even realized were broken. And suddenly, I felt like I wanted to change as well. I still do. I want to be better. If Nevermore, that has been stagnant for centuries can be changed for the better, why can’t I?”
The question had hung in the air, and you had understood the unsaid things hidden between the lines. Somehow, in your self-appointed crusade to make the academy a better place, you had given her hope. Hope for herself. Hope she hadn’t allowed herself to have.
That night was the night you had realized how in love you were with Larissa Weems.
Maybe, it was the night she fell in love with you, too.
Even if you were both living on campus, it had taken two full years before you had decided to move in together. Well, it was more of you going to live in Larissa’s large, luxurious principal quarters. That had come well after you two had officially announced your relationship status, first to the board, then to the staff, and finally to both students and parents.
That had been petrifying. You had been afraid and so had Larissa, even if she showed it less than you, used as she was to have her mask always firmly in place. If it came down between choosing between your relationship and Nevermore, you both knew what her first choice would be. You had explicitly talked about it. You had pulled numbers. You had checked the rulebook. You had prepared as much as possible, hoping that it wouldn’t have to come to giving up your work to stay with her.
You would have done it.
You both knew it, as much as you knew that Larissa would never give up hers.
But luck had been on your side. You had only been showered with positivity and kindness and heartfelt well-wishes. There had been no difficulties, not mutterings, nothing. The only awkward moment had been when the Addams family had expressed their felicitations by sending about a dozen severed heads “To bring horrid prosperity to the new couple”. But even that had made a wry smile come to Larissa’s face, and she had just shaken her head and had the severed ones brought to the biology lab (“Well they’re here already, might as well use them for science”).
It felt like yesterday and yet it had been seven years ago. Your tenth-year anniversary was drawing closer and closer. By now you knew each other like the back of your hand. You knew what made each other tick, you knew what brought comfort. You enjoyed simply spending time together, each immersed in their own activity, and yet able to lift your eyes and bask in each other’s company.
Which brought you to your current predicament.
She knew you suffered from nightmares, and she had told you over and over again to wake her up if you ever needed comfort after one of them. You knew that. And you knew you wouldn’t mind if the positions were reversed. Sleep be damned, if Larissa needed you, you’d stay awake for days on end.
You stretched your hand over, letting it hover in the air above her shoulder. Was this okay? Were you really allowed to? No matter how many years passed, it felt like you were back to being Larissa’s employee, waiting outside of her study, hand just about to knock on her door, wondering if you weren’t just about to waste her precious time.
You could picture her, shaking her head at you, “Don’t be silly, darling! You never disturb me.” And smile at you that precious smile, the smile she reserved for you and you alone, the smile that made her eyes light up and dance. Even just imagining – remembering – that smile gave you strength. You brought you hand down softly on her shoulder, a gentle caress, a tender touch.
“Love?” You tried to keep the pleading out of your voice. She was immediately awake, used to being on call for any emergency in the school.
“What’s it, darling? Everything alright?” Her British accent was even thicker when her voice was still wrapped in sleep. It was adorable.
“Nightmare. Could…Could you hold me?” You hated how little your voice sounded. How it had broken halfway through. You hadn’t even realized how close to tears you had been before you had woken her up, but you could feel them filling your eyes now, making her lovely silhouette wobbly in the darkness.
“Oh darling, of course. Come here.” She turned towards you, opening her arms. You lost no time diving into them, hiding your face in the crook of her neck, the soft fabric of the scarf pleasant against your forehead. “Oh darling, that bad?” You nodded against her neck. You had put up a brave face, not even realizing yourself how much the images and the sensations from your dream had shaken you.
She hummed and you could feel the vibrations against your own body. “Do you want to talk about it?” You shook your head. It was going away anyways, the dark, cold tendrils of it being chased away by the warmth of the embrace Larissa was wrapping you in.
“Very well. Then you can just relax. I am here. I have you. You are safe.” You could feel your legs entwining together, skin against skin. She had always been so warm. You nuzzled her neck further, breathing in her scent. Patchouli and black pepper and something else, something comforting and relaxing, something utterly and completely Larissa. You felt her wrap her hands around your back, pulling you tight against her soft body. You felt her lips press a tender kiss to the top of your head.
You were enveloped in a cocoon of comfort, with the world so far away, with all its burden of sadness and hatred and worries. There was nothing of that that could reach you here, in the safe nest of your lover’s arms.
One of her hands started moving up and down your back, rubbing it lightly, soothingly, hypnotically. You focused all of your attention on that, on that single, simple movement. You didn’t know how long you were there, soaking up her affection, her care, her love. Slowly, you felt your eyelids grow heavier and heavier, your breathing slowing down, until finally you fell asleep in Larissa’s arms.
You couldn’t see the small, tender smile that graced her face when she looked down at your sleeping form, nor the second, even more loving kiss she pressed on your hair.
“Sleep well, love.” She whispered in the darkness of night.
And you did.
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