#comfort/hurt/comfort
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Only Pretending #6
Word count: 3.5k Author's note: sooo, I've decided that until I'm shadowbanned, I'll be posting this series here! I'll still reblog the chapters so it is on my primary blog. I won't be able to reply to comments still (as this is a secondary blog), but know that I sincerely appreciate every single note you people leave, so thank you so much in advance, you are so beautiful!
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If pressed, you wouldn’t be able to tell how long you spent kissing that night. Wouldn’t be able to remember when you straddled her lap, holding on for however long you could.
Larissa’s hands were the gentlest torturers you’d ever known, softly but surely going from caressing your face to gripping your neck and ending up on your hips, pressing you closer with a desperate feel to it.
You could not remember the last time you were so thoroughly studied. Maybe never. There was no part of you her hands did not travel through and for the first time, you cursed your fuzzy pyjamas. What wouldn’t you have given to feel her fingers grip your thighs without any barrier between you? It was a curse but also a blessing. If you had felt cold fingers on your heated skin, you might not have had the strength to stop it.
Larissa was following a clear path. She had a goal, and it was undeniably thrilling to know she wanted you, but you were both intoxicated by more than one another. This was not a pure desire-driven endeavour; you were drunk and while your feelings and want were very clear to you, you could not know of Larissa’s. Hell, only yesterday she had asked you to be her friend. You could very well be the available option.
When you felt her hand skirting dangerously up your thigh, you mentally kicked yourself and put your hand over hers.
You separated for just a fraction, looking her in the eyes. They were heavy-lidded and you could see more than just a simple adjustment to lighting on her wide pupils. It killed you to know what your next words were when she looked so incredible, still towering over you even when you were on her lap.
“Larissa…” you whispered, and she chased your lips, stealing a brief kiss before you had the strength to part again, “I know this is frustrating, and you might hate me or thank me tomorrow, but I’d prefer having the knowledge that you were completely clear minded before choosing to go down this route with me.”
“Why are you so concerned about me all the time, it should be me who’s saying this,” she sounded defeated, dumping her head on your shoulder for the second time that evening.
You brought your hands to her nape and started to gently scratch her scalp.
“You’re concerned with everyone around you all the time.” You smiled. “Only fair that someone does the same to you.”
Her arms circled your waist, and she buried her nose in your neck. You kissed the tip of her ear and nudged her up to face you again. You felt a satisfying surge of pride seeing her small affectionate smile, and had to kiss it one more time, just as affectionately.
Getting up and turning to lie on the bed, you pulled her with you so she would be the one on top. You went down kissing, smiling, and chuckling once when she pressed her thigh between your legs a little too much and made you groan.
“Tomorrow, we discuss it, ok?” you breathed in the now darkened room and felt Larissa nod against your chest.
“Good night, y/n,” she whispered.
“Good night, Larissa.”
You woke up alone the next morning. Sunlight was coming through the half-opened deep-red curtains, warming a line up your jaw and burning your ear. Larissa must have woken with it in her eyes.
You got up and dragged yourself to the bathroom. Larissa was probably downstairs, which shouldn’t bother you, but you thought you would talk first thing in the morning and the fact that she preferred being in Morticia’s company instead of waking you to accompany her was nauseating. Maybe she was sparing you the bother of putting up with the woman and you were just worrying unnecessarily.
Taking your time to get ready and dress, you left the bedroom almost forty minutes later.
Upon stepping into the main hall, you were surprised by the large front doors opening abruptly. Through them, a squealing Enid ran inside, dropping two travel bags by the stairs and returning just as quickly to hug an unimpressed Wednesday, walking calmly inside (though the slight quiver on the side of her mouth hinted at her true feelings).
“I can’t believe I’m finally here! Stop with the pout, Addams! Your brooding days are over, time to enjoy the holiday!”
Wednesday rolled her eyes in your direction, still in Enid’s arms, as if she could convince you she wasn’t happy her girlfriend had arrived. As if it wasn’t all she talked about at dinner last night on the rare occasions she bothered to make a comment.
“Professor!” you were next in the queue of hugs, and Enid’s joyful skips towards you managed to soothe the minor discomfort that Larissa’s absence had caused. “I’m so happy that you’re here,” she whispered timidly and quite adorably, “I didn’t talk with my parents yet. I’ll do it in person, but I wanted to thank you again for our talk.”
“Of course, dear,” you tightened your arms around her, “And I’ll be here no matter their reaction if you want to talk again, ok? We can go to the Weathervane or the park, whatever you’d like.”
You separated and she smiled sweetly at you. You knew it was young love, but you wished they’d work out because looking at them, you could think of no one else who would protect Enid as fiercely as Wednesday and not a single soul that would keep Wednesday in check as Enid did. They were such an adorable pair you almost felt jealous.
“Rissa?” Morticia’s voice sounded again, a bit louder, snapping Larissa out of her reverie.
“Yes?”
“If you’ve finished eating, I’ll summon Lurch to clear the table for you.” She gestured while seating in one of the garden chairs around said table.
“No, I’ll wait for y/n, thank you. I think she’d like to have breakfast in the garden,” she smiled, remembering your idea of what your first date would have been like. She didn’t know much about you from these last few days, but she was certain you’d appreciate the fresh air and Morticia’s deadly plants.
“You know, I don’t understand what you think you’re doing,” the woman replied, rushing through the words in an uncommon manner.
“Whatever do you mean, Morticia?”
“Oh, don’t roll your eyes at me! I can see clearly what’s happening here!” she sounded impatient, which wasn’t unheard of, but she rarely showed it to anyone; that’s how Larissa knew they were alone, she got used to that secret side of the woman twenty years ago.
Masking her discomfort with a long-since practised smile, Larissa tidied the spread while choosing her words.
“And what do you think that would be?”
Larissa heard a snort, “You’re being used! You always had a soft spot for the unremarkable and that is a very generous quality of yours. I admire it, truly, but it’s the third time around, amore, and this will end up badly.”
“What?! Careful with your lies, Morticia, they’re getting bigger and bigger, and someday they’ll lodge in your throat,” Larissa was shocked by her own reaction. She thought she’d mastered how to maintain the higher ground around Morticia, but clearly, she was mistaken; at least when it was about you, apparently. “Be honest, you can’t care less about how this will end. You didn’t care the first time, why would you now?”
At that, her old roommate stilled.
“I didn’t know about her, and you know it very well,” her tone was dangerously controlled, she was looking ahead with her jaw set and from time to time her eye twitched, “When I heard the news, Gomez didn’t even have to finish sparring, I just ran to the car.” With a deep breath, Morticia turned to face Larissa, eyes sparkling and nose flaring. “You are an intelligent woman, Larissa; we both know that. So, you must have noticed the recurrent theme of charming young ladies trying to use you for their own purposes.”
“Don’t forget to include yourself on the list,” Larissa’s tone was colder than she’d expected, but Morticia’s uncharacteristic avoidance of her gaze was an exquisite treat.
Without another word, the woman stood up and walked back through the path from where she came.
The previous night, you attributed the mansion’s imposing aura to the melting of its high towery roof against the darkening of the skies that created a strange sense of elongated walls. However, through the morning sunlit corridors, the high ceilings and medieval-like decorations didn’t alleviate you of the notion in any way. You could swear one of the rooms you passed through had an actual medieval torture device.
When you started walking down the rock path, Morticia appeared from around tall white oleander bushes, looking sour, and even though her sweet smiles had been mostly false until that moment, you preferred them. Whatever happened to her, you prayed you didn’t have to know.
Upon seeing, though, her face morphed back into “alluring menace mode”.
“Good morning, my dear. Did you sleep well?” she said in a slightly hoarser version of her baritone, coming right up to you and standing close.
“Yeah, you have very good beds,” you smirked, “they barely make a sound.”
The twitch of annoyance in the corner of her lip gave away her feelings, and her expression changed again in a matter of seconds, brows knitting together and downward lips.
“Oh, did something happen in the morning then?”
“What do you mean?” what was she talking about?
“I’ve just spoken with Rissa, and she seemed very pissy about something, could barely talk to her for a minute…” you knew you shouldn’t trust her concerned tone, the glint in her eye had amusement written all over it.
So, Larissa wasn’t in bed because she was angry? Or she regretted your actions last night and seeing the person whom she started this all for irritated her? If she hadn’t wanted to prove Morticia wrong, nothing would have happened. No cuddling on the sofa, no trips and highroad hugs, and definitely no kissing like mad until you fell asleep.
She placed her hand on your shoulder and murmured, “I’d say to approach carefully, you never know when she has a temper.” before parting with her usual saunter.
So much for hope, in the end. You could only be grateful for the chance at knowing what it could be like to be… you didn’t want to finish the thought, even that felt tainted by Larissa’s repentance.
Turning where Morticia came from, you saw a few meters ahead a beautiful black iron garden table with matching chairs. Larissa’s shoulders hung softly. She didn’t look tense from her back, more contemplating with her fingers absentmindedly tracing the rim of a teacup.
You approached slowly, and when you were in front of her, she didn’t look near throwing you the cup. Unsurprisingly, Morticia was fond of hyperboles.
“Before you say anything, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry. It was a mistake, it’s ok…” you felt your throat tight and breathed slowly in to control your emotions before continuing, “We were both drunk, and I’m happy we stopped because if not this conversation would have been a lot more awful than it already is to have. I won’t say a thing to anyone, and I won’t ask anything of you, as well, don’t worry. We can just pretend it never happened.”
Larissa’s confused expression didn’t last long. You could point out the moment she stopped being Larissa and became principal Weems in front of you. Her unguarded posture swiftly shifted to the picture of a professional stance, her face was neutral and her voice calculatedly suave.
“Of course. I’m glad that we cleared it out, I’d hate for it to be a source of miscomprehension between us,” she smiled, “Good thing that we both feel the same and can act as adults about it.”
You only nodded, too stunned to muster a response.
“Well,” she got up and gestured to the overstocked table between you, “I thought you’d enjoy breakfast in the garden. You did seem rather fond of picnics if I recall,” she ended with a breath. If you knew any better, you’d say she sounded wounded before she circled you walked away.
As soon as her towering figure was out of sight, which you knew because you watched her go without so much as blinking, you let all the air you’d been holding out, finishing with the mixture of a broken whimper and a sob. Now you knew, undeniably, that your feelings weren’t reciprocated. You felt so drained you couldn’t even cry; you simply fell into the closest chair and ignored the food by your side until someone came to get it.
When Morticia saw Larissa’s face coming from the garden, she concluded her little deception had worked.
More guests arrived in the afternoon. A lot of them very eccentric and intriguing. There was one particular guest you found very charming. Wednesday introduced him to you as Cousin Itt; apparently, he also attended Nevermore years back and was a consistent winner in debates.
“I and Pugsley facilitated his marriage years ago,” Wednesday said curiously by your side, a sinister smile indicating her rare amusement, “It was good fun to dispose of Cousin Margaret’s late husband.”
“Whatever do you mean by that?!”
She only smiled a bit more and stalked away to join Enid at the garden.
Larissa was missing for the greater part of the day. After lunch, which was stilted and awkward, only balanced by Enid and Gomez lively debating Wednesday’s adventures in the previous year, she left for who knows where and only appeared in your bedroom closely before the party was scheduled to start.
You knew you still were trying to deceive Morticia, and by her comment that morning she did seem to believe you were together, but now you didn’t know if Larissa wanted to continue with the plan; she looked so tired.
“Do you think we should talk about it?” you asked when she left the bathroom in one of the fluffy robes.
“Talk about what?” her tone was clipped.
You really wanted to maintain the illusion of being an adult, but it was so difficult with her displeased principal face. You felt like a child politely scolded for your bad behaviour. Your shoulders hurt and your chest ached; spending one afternoon away from her, not knowing what was going through her head was torture. You wondered how you’d survive the rest of the year now, if it would all fade away or if the dull aching would be a consistent reminder of all you wanted and could not have every time you walked by her or were called to her office.
It was Larissa who talked fist, prompting you out of your misery with an exasperated voice.
“Fine!” she snapped, “You want to talk about it? Let’s do that. Where do you want to start from? The part where I-“ she cut herself, looking at you with ill-concealed rage and… betrayal? What? “You know what? You start… this was your idea, to begin with,” she ended in a much quieter tone, rummaging through her belongings and producing a wine bottle before dropping into one of the armchairs by the unlit fireplace.
“You brought wine?!”
She was silent for a few moments before speaking, “I thought we could share it the first night, but you were already drunk and I was tired so I didn’t even remember it,” she sounded defeated, and the emotional rollercoaster of feelings this trip was putting you through was starting to exhaust you. You wanted just that. Simple things. Sharing wine and giggling about fooling her old roommate, being friends and not worrying about screwing everything up all the time.
“Can I have some?” you approached and seated in the chair in front of her.
“We don’t have glasses.”
“Do you really mind sharing a bottle? I mean, we did worse than that already…” you winced at the comment, but when she huffed and smiled you felt almost overwhelmed with relief and fondness.
She unscrewed the bottle and took a swing before passing it over. It occurred to you it wasn’t even the first time you drank from the same place. Last night you shared your last glass you whisky without even thinking about it.
You gulped down a healthy amount and were surprised by the sweet smoothness of it. It was the same you shared the first time you went to her office. She smiled again when your eyebrows shot up and you took another sip, savouring it this time and not just swallowing for the sake of liquid courage. You didn’t know quite what to say at the sweet gesture.
“How about we start with the reason you disappeared on me the entire day,” you prompted, gently, passing her the bottle.
She huffed a laugh again, but it was bitterer this time around. “I think you know why that was.”
“I really don’t,” you were speaking quietly, as if it was any louder something would shatter, “I can guess, but I’d prefer knowing. Not knowing things have already caused enough commotion between us, don’t you think?”
“Ha, I wonder how we’ll ever work together again after this,” she didn’t take the time to appreciate the drink, downing an amount that had her throat moving slowly to manage it.
“I think you should stop with that for now…” you took the bottle and set it on the floor. She did have a different system than you, but it was starting to feel like too much too soon.
“I don’t usually… I have been drinking much more than normal the last few days,” she confessed, her eyebrows kitting softly.
“It’s ok, I just think we’re always out of sorts before having honest conversations. The time in the car was the healthiest discussion we ever had, and it took us very high amounts of stress to even start talking.”
“You are correct, once again.”
“Again?”
“You said before that it was a mistake,” her voice was just above a whisper.
“And you agreed… with me.”
“Do you really believe that?” she huffed again, “You must know by now how I feel, you’re just too kind to tell me it is one-sided. Stop trying to protect my feelings, I’m more than a decade older than you.”
You were a bit oblivious sometimes, but you couldn’t misinterpret what she was saying, however, you could not believe it either.
“What do you mean, Larissa? Please don’t say things you don’t mean thinking it will make me feel better.”
She hid her face in her hands with a deep breath. Her hair was wet from the shower and even looking cosy and casual in her robe, all you could see in Larissa was tense exasperation.
“Who stopped us yesterday?” she murmured, dropping her hands, eyes almost boring holes in yours with her piercing determination, “Who came to me this morning offering me an out, implying we both made a mistake and not only me?”
“I thought you were…” you started saying, but she cut in.
“You thought I was what? Not interested after kissing myself molten in your arms? That I regretted while waiting for us to eat together in the garden? What did you think, y/n? Enlighten me because it really is a mystery to me what passes through your head.”
You were stunned into silence by her small outburst. She really was incomparable when her eyes lit up like that when the persona of masterly disguised feelings was put aside, and the real Larissa appeared.
“M-Morticia told me you were mad… in the garden before I met you,” you breathed, “I thought you snapped at her because she was the reason we’re doing this in the first place.”
At that, Larissa got up, you were still dazed to accompany her movements, but you felt her hands on your shoulders and suddenly she was kneeling in front of you.
“This is just a guess, but don’t you think Morticia would love nothing more than to ruin whatever it is we have since it’s exactly what she’s been trying to do since we got here?” you could very well drown on those resplendent blue eyes, clear as the Weddell Sea with emotion, “It would be laughable if we were actually together, let’s be honest, her methods are ‘petty teenager’ level, but I think we are so deep into our heads we’re falling for them just like a pair of teenaged fools.” Her hand came to caress your cheek, and you weren’t sure you were being played or if this was really happening, but you couldn’t think of any words, even less muster a sentence to agree with her, so you just had to pathetically wait for Larissa to fix everything by herself. She didn’t seem to mind so much, with a small smile and drawn eyebrows.
“Did you really regret it?” she whispered, looking almost vulnerable if it weren’t for her resolve to soothe your insecurities, “Or would you say something different if Morticia hadn’t found you before me?”
“You were all I could think about…” you covered her hand on your cheek, “I just wanted to be sure your feelings wouldn’t change…”
“They didn’t,” she said simply and leaned in to kiss you.
Tag list: @anti-bright-places, @the-bagel24, @regalbootie, @tundra1029, @thoroughly-confused, @lilsmeaux, @poorwritingandstalecoffee, @alder-saan, @jelly-frogss, @enchantressb, @imean-its-just-me, @lvinhs, @iloveyall-18, @kimiinou, @jeweleegrey (why won't your names tag? What am I doing wrong?)
Chapter Seven
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futuristic-koala · 1 month ago
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aphel1on · 2 months ago
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nothinggg better than torturing an emotionally repressed character until every single trauma they've ever refused to process starts spilling uncontrollably out of the cracks. like a matryoshka doll situation of repressed trauma and baby you better believe i'm going in there with a hammer
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stayuntilthefoglifts · 2 months ago
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I will remove anyone from my life to protect the peace that I've worked so hard for. Nobody took me out of the dark. I did it on my own.
Unknown
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greykolla-art · 9 months ago
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My blog has become infested with angst goblins, and they must be fed with some hypothetical scenarios!🙏💚
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candaru · 1 year ago
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no no. you don't get it. the reason I injure my blorbos until they can't walk is because that's the only way they'll ever let someone else carry them. the reason I curse them to be sick and feverish is so that they'll finally open up about their emotions while delirious. the reason I force them to overexert themselves to the point of exhaustion is so that when they pass out they can finally rest.
I'm doing this for their own good.
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chappellrroan · 4 months ago
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which ao3 tag are you?
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filmythingss · 8 months ago
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"you cant heal if you pretend you're not hurt"
-filmythings
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cronchy-baguette · 9 months ago
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When all this is over, will you stay with me? For good?
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portalmonsterrr · 8 months ago
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Memento Vivere
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kyri45 · 7 months ago
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2danesand1cat · 13 days ago
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Bruce Wayne calling any of his children sweetheart.
Especially if they are hurt or crying or otherwise distraught.
That’s it. That’s the post.
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mistbix · 7 months ago
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kataang hurt/comfort fluff head pats running hand over buzzcut cafuné naps tired fic ao3 search
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maccreadysbaby · 1 year ago
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Some of my favorite words and phrases to describe a character in pain
coiling (up in a ball, in on themselves, against something, etc)
panting (there’s a slew of adjectives you can put after this, my favorites are shakily, weakly, etc)
keeling over (synonyms are words like collapsing, which is equally as good but overused in media)
trembling/shivering (additional adjectives could be violently, uncontrollably, etc)
sobbing (weeping is a synonym but i’ve never liked that word. also love using sob by itself, as a noun, like “he let out a quiet sob”)
whimpering (love hitting the wips with this word when a character is weak, especially when the pain is subsiding. also love using it for nightmares/attacks and things like that)
clinging (to someone or something, maybe even to themselves or their own clothes)
writhing/thrashing (maybe someone’s holding them down, or maybe they’re in bed alone)
crying (not actual tears. cry as in a shrill, sudden shout)
dazed (usually after the pain has subsided, or when adrenaline is still flowing)
wincing (probably overused but i love this word. synonym could be grimacing)
doubling-over (kinda close to keeling over but they don’t actually hit the ground, just kinda fold in on themselves)
heaving (i like to use it for describing the way someone’s breathing, ex. “heaving breaths” but can also be used for the nasty stuff like dry heaving or vomiting)
gasping/sucking/drawing in a breath (or any other words and phrases that mean a sharp intake of breath, that shite is gold)
murmuring/muttering/whispering (or other quiet forms of speaking after enduring intense pain)
hiccuping/spluttering/sniffling (words that generally imply crying without saying crying. the word crying is used so much it kinda loses its appeal, that’s why i like to mix other words like these in)
stuttering (or other general terms that show an impaired ability to speak — when someone’s in intense pain, it gets hard to talk)
staggering/stumbling (there is a difference between pain that makes you not want to stand, and pain that makes it impossible to stand. explore that!)
recoiling/shrinking away (from either the threat or someone trying to help)
pleading/begging (again, to the threat, someone trying to help, or just begging the pain to stop)
Feel free to add your favorites or most used in the comments/reblogs!
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stayuntilthefoglifts · 2 months ago
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People who wound us get no say in how we clean up the blood.
Harriet Selina
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