My Lady Of The Four Decades || Larissa Weems X Reader

My Lady of The Four Decades || Larissa Weems x Reader

A/N: Inspired by @zafirosreverie and their story, thank you for the comfort you bring to me, I wanted to make this in honor for Gwendoline as well, You are beautiful queen (If ykyk)

You thought she was falling out of love.

The past days have been tortuous to say the least, it felt as if your girlfriends wanted to see you less and less. It started off simple, she'd miss a few chances to kiss you, or she'd not greet you along the halls, you brushed it off as being busy, but after she had seemed to completely ignore you or avoid you, your heart started to crack bit by bit.

Maybe you were overreacting, you told yourself, over and over, but you couldn't help but wonder if she had loved you the way she had the day you confessed, it seemed so different now, it wasn't as lively or energetic since your date a few weeks ago.

And you fear it may be your last.

You made your way to her office, hands sweating and tears brimming your eyes, you couldn't take it, you were at your breaking point.

Hands pushing the door with a low creak, you made your way to her desk, a pang of sadness hut your heart as she didn't even look up to acknowledge you when you called out her name.

"Rissa, are you okay?" you asked.

Silence.

"Riss please. I'm worried for you." you tried.

She was ignoring you.

You let out a sniffle, wiping at your eyes fiercely, she seemed to perk up, finally paying attention.

"Please Riss! What hapoemd to us! W-We used to be so in love! I... I don't get it, is... Is it me?" you begged.

Her hands pushed her up as she stood, her figure towering over you, yet she seemed frail, as you look into her eyes, you see fear and regret, coating those crystal blue eyes.

"No! NEVER! That's not what it is-"

"Then what is it!??!" you pleaded, "Please! You're scaring me-"

"It's me!"

You paused.

"I love you so much, but... How could you love me back?" she asked, tears flowing from her eyes," I'm an old hag, you deserve someone better, better than me."

She wanted you to be with the best of the best, she isn't satisfied that you settled for her, she knows she isn't the number 1, Morticia proved that long ago, she'll never be good enough, especially especially for you.

She apologizes profusely, head buried in your hands, you stare at the woman in shock, but you don't hesitate as you hands graze across her face, wiping away her tears.

"My lady, My lady of the four decades." you whisper softly.

"Lady of the four decades, your figure is no longer that of a fifteen year old, but your eyes still hold the same fiery gaze."

Your hands slide towards hers in a gentle embrace, it's reassuring to her, her sniffles slowly disappearing.

"Lady of the four decades, you need not to show your figure behind a neckline, your figure is beautiful, and time shall never wither your sensual touch."

Kisses on her forehead always calmed her down, so you pecked her temple lightly, over and over.

"How I dream of my lady, and your aged grace, how your tender caress feels along my skin, I love you my lady, and how do I show."

She smiled at you softly, hands embracing you in a blanket of warmth.

"That I can still love you, though ten years younger."

wlw age difference ships really have me wHIPPED 

As a fic writer, i need every reader to know that:

I don’t care if your comment is coherent. I know what you mean and i love you

I don’t care if you ramble. I read every word and i love you

I don’t care if you leave a comment on a fic from four years ago or leave comments/kudos on like ten of my fics in one go. This isn’t IG, pls stalk my AO3. I love you

I don’t care if you mention the same thing in your comment that four other people have already mentioned. It’s actually really useful to know what resonated with people and I love everyone who takes the time to tell me they liked a particular turn of phrase

I don’t mind if your comment is super long or just a couple of sentences, i love them all

I love you

Dreaming of You (Larissa Weems x f!Reader)

Synopsis: You've been dealing with prophetic dreams your whole life, but when a certain face keeps popping up, you find her in an unexpected place

Words: 2.3k

Warnings: mentions of death, mentions of car accidents, mentions of being disowned, swearing, lil bit of smutty stuff

You’d been plagued by odd dreams for as long as you could remember. It had taken a long time to realise exactly how odd they were. You’d see things happening in your dreams weeks or months in advance of your waking life, leading you live in an almost constant state of deja vu. Telling your parents, they’d been brushed off, considered nothing more than an overactive imagination.

That was, until you’d dreamt about your father’s death. You saw it playing out in front of you, the car speeding towards him, out of control, weaving over the road, the impact of the hood against his body, bouncing over the top, left for dead on the road. You’d woken up screaming, images of his blood pooling on asphalt stuck in your brain.

Two months later he was dead.

You hadn’t ever expected your mother to lay the blame of his death at your feet. She’d accused you of causing it, of being a witch, of bringing this all down on her. She’d sent you away to live with a distant aunt.

You’d never spoken about your dreams to her.

Instead, you’d immersed yourself on the internet, doing as much research as possible. You’d gone down rabbit holes, chasing ghosts of people who might be like you. So much of it was bullshit. Until you stumbled across a mention of Nevermore on an old forum many years later.

That was the night the dreams started.

Fingers tangled in silver hair between your legs, tongue lapping at your entrance, pleasure building. You awoke with a gasp on your lips and a throbbing between your legs.

Every night since then you dreamt of the same woman, sometimes gloriously naked, sometimes between your thighs, sometimes smiling at you or laughing. Every single time you woke with an ache in your heart and a need you couldn’t express in words. More often than not you woke unsatisfied, your hand not nearly as welcome as the woman in your dreams.

No name, no clue of who she was or where you might find her, the dreams plagued you in your waking life. Glimpses of your future, still out of reach, but so desperately wanted.

Continuing your search you found Nevermore’s website. A school. You hadn’t been expecting that, but you watched and waited, for what, you didn’t know. This, you knew, was where you were meant to be. It felt right.

It was a gloomy morning when the notice went live. A teaching position had opened up, calling for someone with an understanding of the divine. You sent in your application, knowing it was a long shot, and waited.

All of which led to you standing in front of the door to Principal Weems’ office on your first day as the new teacher. You’d flown through the interview, accepted the position, and moved to Vermont.

You raised your fist, knocking on the wooden door. A woman’s voice called out, asking you to enter. With a deep breath you pushed the door open, stepping over the threshold into the warm office, and froze.

Seated behind the desk, looking up expectantly at you, was the woman from your dreams. Your breath caught. Even if she wasn’t your future, you’d want her to be. Such beauty had no business existing in the world. Your heart was already yearning for her.

“Welcome, “she said standing from the desk. You could have collapsed there.

You walked over as if in a daze. She held her hand out to you and you took it, the first brush of skin sending an electric current through you. You knew that touch, knew what those fingers would be capable of. You were ready to drop to your knees in front of her.

She said your name, the sound of it enough to steal your breath. You’d heard that voice say it, moan it, scream it as you brought her pleasure. You’d heard her whisper it into your skin, heard her caress it with untamed love, heard her say it with a laugh. You wanted her to keep saying it until you came undone in front of her.

“I’ve heard you have premonitions of the future,” she said, retaking her seat, gesturing for you to take one of the chairs in front of the desk. You lowered yourself on wobbly knees, doing your best not to show how much you were trembling.

“Yes, dreams mostly, although I’ve had success with tarot and crystal balls,” you replied.

“I suppose you saw yourself teaching here,” she said with a smile.

“Only metaphorically,” you said, “no premonitions, just a wish.”

“Indeed?” Her brow raised.

“I haven’t met others like me before,” you said, “or at least not that I know of.”

“Yes, some abilities are not as obvious as others,” she said, “I’m glad to have you on our staff.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ve been informed you’ve already been shown to your quarters,” she said, “I must apologise. I usually try to do the introduction. However, a student left a rather unfortunate surprise in the kitchen we were unaware of until now.”

“Kids will be kids,” you said with a shrug. The thought of her showing you the room you’d be sleeping in was too much. Her and a bed being the same room would lead your mind down a dangerous path of memories.

“Yes, quite,” she said, “well, if you have any issues, please do not hesitate to call on me. I look forward to seeing your work.”

She stood, offering her hand again. You took it, hoping the shiver could be played off as nerves. Her eyes swept over you and you wondered what she saw.

You scurried out before she could look deeper, not wanting her to see what your dreams had shown you. You hadn’t been expecting that when you’d sought out Nevermore. You hadn’t known to prepare for it.

If you’d hoped for a reprieve from your dreams now you’d met the woman, you were sorely mistaken. Every kiss, every touch was burned into your brain, still following you in your waking hours. You could barely look at her without heat filling your cheeks and wetness collecting between your thighs.

On the last night before the students were scheduled to arrive you found yourself watching the sunset out over the water, legs swinging from the dock. Your head was tilted back as you let the cool breeze wash over your skin. A particularly wonderful dream was replaying in your head, one that didn’t leave a throbbing need between your thighs for once.

“You look rather peaceful.”

You jumped, having not heard anyone approach, so caught up in your thoughts. You blinked, turning to look up at the familiar towering figure. You hadn’t been avoiding her, per se. You were just never sure what to say around her.

“I didn’t expect it to be so beautiful here,” you replied, turning back to the sunset.

“You truly didn’t see Nevermore in a premonition?” You could feel her approaching you.

“No I…” She was making it hard to think, “I found the website online. It felt right, me being here.”

“I hope you continue to feel that way.”

You weren’t expecting her to drop down beside you, legs dangling off the pier, arm brushing against yours. It was the closest she’d gotten to you since your arrival, her floral perfume wrapping around you in a way that was familiar, and yet so much better than your dreams. You held yourself still, worried you’d lean into her if you didn’t.

“I’ve been hearing reports from other staff members that you’re settling in well,” she said, “that you’re a kind and conscientious team member. You appear to be fitting in well.”

“I’m trying.” You weren’t sure what else to say.

“It makes me wonder if I’ve done something wrong.”

You turned to look at her. Her blue eyes had lost their sparkle, and her lips were turned down. You hadn’t seen that look before, not in all your months of dreaming about her.

“How would you have done something wrong?” you asked.

“I don’t know. That’s why I thought I’d ask,” she replied.

“Of course you haven’t.” You shook your head, turning your gaze down to your fingers twisting together in your lap. You were already messing up your future.

“You treat me differently from the rest of the staff. You’re more distant with me.”

You didn’t bother disagreeing with her.

“Have you seen something that’s going to happen involving me?” she asked instead.

You felt your cheeks burn and your eyes darted up to her. She tilted her head at your reaction, leaning closer as her gaze swept over you.

“You have.” She didn’t need you to confirm it.

“It’s nothing bad,” you said, “or, at least, I hope you don’t think it’s bad. Come to think of it, it might not be welcome news. This is why I don’t often tell people what I see. They react badly, usually. But it’s not bad. I haven’t seen anything bad about you.”

“When did you have this dream about me?” She looked at you intently.

“Does it matter?” At least she thought it was only one dream.

“I’d like to know,” she said.

“Seven months ago,” you said.

“You told me you’d never had a premonition about Nevermore,” she said.

“I didn’t know you were Nevermore.”

You chanced a glance over at her. She was watching you and you could almost see the gears turning in her head. Your eyes flicked down to her lips, then away again, cheeks heating. You wondered if you’d ever be able to look at her without the flutter of your heart. Your dreams were saying no.

“What happened in this dream?”

You shook your head.

“I don’t think I should say,” you replied, “not everyone appreciates knowing what’s to come.”

“I’m asking.”

You took a deep breath in, turning to look at her properly. The words were ready on your tongue, ready to spill out. She was watching you with a soft look on her face, expectant and open. You could have melted right there.

“Please?”

You surged forward, grasping her face between both hands. You kissed her hard. She froze and you drew back. Your heart thudded in your throat and your eyes widened. Terror flooded your veins.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

You got to your feet, spinning around, and doing your best to flee. A strong hand grasped your wrist, tugging you back. You tried to pull free but she only held on tighter.

“I’m so sorry,” you said again.

“I’m rather flattered,” she said and you braced yourself for a reprimand, “but I’m afraid that didn’t answer my question.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, still facing away from her. You couldn’t bare to look at her as you told her, spilling your secrets at her feet, hoping for mercy.

“I have been dreaming about you every night for seven months. Every. Single. Night. And we are clearly more than friends in them. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kissed you but every time I look at you I, the afterimages of those dreams are there. It makes it so difficult to keep my train of thought around you. And there’s no way it would be this difficult if you weren’t to fucking beautiful. It’s driving me crazy.”

The silence in the wake of your confession was deafening. You tried to pull out of her hand again but she was still holding on.

“Look at me.” She sounded breathless, “please.”

You slowly turned, scared to see what she’d do. Slowly dragging your eyes up to her face, you couldn’t help the way your heart skipped a beat. Her face was so soft, so full of wonder, cracked open to show the light inside her. There was a small smile curling the corner of her lips and her eyes were sparkling.

“I’m not expecting anything from you,” you said, “the future isn’t written in stone. It doesn’t have to go like that.”

“Darling.” Oh, that pet name would get you into trouble, “how about you kiss me again and we see what happens?”

You gaped at her. You had no idea how to respond. All you wanted to do was kiss her again.

“Darling?” She raised an eyebrow at you.

You reached up, hand cupping the back of her neck, pulling her down. The first brush of lips was questioning, needing to know this is what she wanted. Her hands grasped your hips, pulling you towards her.

She deepened the kiss, her tongue sweeping into your mouth. You moaned at her taste, knees turning to jelly. You should have known that she would be phenomenal at this, all your dreams pointing towards it. Her teeth sunk into your bottom lip. You gasped into her mouth, holding her tighter, wanting to thread your fingers through her hair but scared of ruining how perfectly she’d styled it.

You were gasping for breath when she drew away. Her perfect lipstick was smeared and her eyes were smouldering. Your fingers gently touched her kiss swollen lips, ghosting over them. You’d never seen something so beautiful.

“Perhaps you’d like to have dinner with me tonight,” she suggested, drawing back until you were no longer sharing the same air.

“Yeah.” You nodded, “yeah I’d like that.”

She began to walk towards the school, giving you a wonderful view. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from her swaying hips.

“Oh, and darling.” She turned back to look at you over her shoulder, “I hope you know I’m planning on having you for dessert.”

Your mouth fell open before you chased after her back to the school.

joyce byers loves jim hoppers so much, listen- she didnt even know if he was really alive but she didnt hesitate even for a second, she left her job and her kids, ended up in fucking russia and entered the most dangerous prison in the country risking her own life- all to save that man. thats love baby

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