Larissa Weems X Reader One Shots. <3

Gift Giving. SFW

"Don't worry, Marilyn," Larissa, kind as ever, gently interrupted as she rested a soft hand on the red-heads shoulder. "I'm sure Enid just forgot to bring your gift to class. You'll have a mug by tomorrow afternoon, I'm sure."

And it seems Larissa was right.

The next time you stepped into the teachers lounge, Marilyn was sipping chamomile tea out of her 'No.1 Teacher' mug (a new one, at that). You didn't mean to be a show-off, but pulling out three cards, two boxes of chocolates and a pair of 'Coolest Teacher' slippers felt really, really good (though seeing the shock on Marilyn's face felt even better).

Once again, the two of you bickered endlessly as Marilyn fought to get the names of the students who had 'betrayed' her from your lips. This swiftly became routine — you would burst into the teachers lounge at lunch daily and compare the gifts you'd received that day with Marilyn. Eventually a few other teachers joined in too. All the while Larissa would remain mute, focusing on her lunch with no gifts to show.

When Friday came along, you once again found yourself rushing to find Marilyn, four gift bags swinging beside you as you gripped them proudly. This time, when you entered the familiar room, something was off. You had your usual spat with Marilyn — this one being more intense than the ones before. And as you left the room with a roll to your eyes, you wondered whether the 'off' feeling was because she happened to have six whole gifts to her name, or whether it was the fact that Larissa hadn't been there to interrupt your argument. You wandered to the Principals office full of curiosity and slight frustration, yet when you found Larissa simply eating her lunch at her desk as she scrolled on her computer, you brushed your curiosity away, reckoning that the blonde probably had plenty of work to do, hence why she decided to refrain from going to the teachers lounge for lunch.

"I cant believe it!" You forcefully huffed, strolling towards Larissa's desk. "She beat me today — two extra gifts. Can you believe it? When I find the little culprits, it's over for them."

With a sigh, you rested against Larissa's comfy seat across from the blonde. Though her fireplace was warm and comforting, there seemed to be a cloud of tension in the air. You gazed at Larissa who seemed to be just staring off at the pixels on her computer screen. Only then did you notice the thread that had her eyebrows knit together in annoyance and you immediately sat upright.

"What's wrong, 'Rissa?" You flew out of your seat and behind her, resting both of your hands on her strong shoulders before gently beginning to massage the muscles. "Is it work? Is there anything i can help with? I can finish up with emails while you lay—"

"Why don't I get gifts? I run the school! No one likes the Principal..." Larissa suddenly sulked, shoving her fork into her lunch container and pushing it away before crossing her arms at once.

It's not to say that the blonde was jealous (no, of course not, why would she be?), it's just that Larissa wanted to feel appreciated too. Seeing you receive all these gifts and cards and chocolates was heartwarming and more than Larissa could ever wish for, but she felt left out. Everything suddenly clicked into place for you as you were hit with realisation of how inconsiderate you had been of her feelings, just because you wanted to prove you were more beloved in the school than Marilyn. How silly your problems seemed now.

You carefully spun Larissa around in her office chair so that she was facing you before crouching down, taking her soft hands into yours.

"'Rissa, I'm so, so sorry. I've been so... selfish and thoughtless—"

"No, darling. I'm sorry," the red-lipped woman cut you off, tightening her hold on your hands, "I didn't mean to make you feel bad about this at all. You're allowed to show-off and have fun. I'm— I've just been overthinking, that's all."

You felt genuine pity for Larissa in that moment. She, of all people, worked hardest to keep Nevermore Academy in place, therefore she deserved to be celebrated the most.

As soon as lunchtime ended, you were once again teaching Literature to your students, this time multitasking as you wrapped up a box of chocolates in spare Christmas wrapping paper (it wasn't ideal, but it was all you had and it worked).

You were explaining the clever use of onomatopoeia in the novel you were currently studying with the class, when Enid's hand shot up.

"Yes, Enid?"

"What does the box of chocolates have to do with the book, Ms [y/n]?"

"Nothing at all," you smiled, picking up a pen before scribbling 'Principal Weems' between the scatter of silver stars on the gift wrap. "You see, you've all been so kind in giving the teachers cards and gifts — I thought it was only fair that the Principal gets a show of appreciation too."

The class remained silent after that and you simply continued on with the lesson, forgetting all about Enid's question and the box of chocolates you'd packaged up.

The weekend flew by, and as Monday came along, you were mentally prepared for the last week of school. Though the school day seemed to be going smoothly, you were surprised to have only received a single gift, yet you reminded yourself to remain humble and not take Marilyn's comments to heart today. After all, you had a much more important task ahead — sneaking Larissa her gift and hoping she doesn't assume that it was from you but rather a student.

You took a deep breath as you gripped the door handle, shoving the wood away from the door frame. When Larissa came into view, you were taken aback by the sight of gift bags littered around the room, completely surrounding the blonde. On the table in front of her, there were multiple mugs containing a variation of 'Best Principal Ever' slogans. Marilyn stood over her with wide eyes while the two held a hushed conversation between them. As the shock wore off, your heart began to feel whole and you slowly entered the room, guiding Larissa's attention onto you.

"[y/n], I know I seemed upset yesterday but- but this? This is a little much, darling."

"What are you talking about?" You asked, eyebrows furrowed as you placed your items down on an empty chair.

"I mean, you didn't have to do all of this," Larissa almost laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation, taking in the gift-ridden room.

It was then that everything clicked for you — Larissa assumed that you had faked all of the gifts in order to make her feel better.

"I-I didn't do this, I swear," you promised, blank faced. You thought for a moment before an idea popped into your head and you plunged a hand into your handbag before resurfacing with the gift-wrapped box of chocolates. "I was going to give this to you and- and pretend it was from a student, which I know isn't right but you were so— I promise I didn't do all of this. I told—" you paused, realising. "...Enid."

"What?"

"Enid asked about the chocolates in front of the class," you rounded the table, kneeling down to look at the gift tags, reading all of the different names — all of them being students in your literature class. "They heard me say I was wrapping a gift for you, but that's all I said. They must've planned this on their own." A fond smile bloomed on your face. You were incredibly proud of your students in that moment for being so observant, so generous and compassionate and kind.

You looked up at Larissa from your spot on the floor and her expression reflected yours. There was an air of relief that left her lungs and a warm well of tears that built up in the pockets of her eyes.

"They really think... that I'm a good Principal," the blonde softly spoke, running her finger over the mug in her hands.

"Not just a good Principal," you picked up the teddy bear that sat on the table; flipping it over so Larissa could see the writing, "the BEST Principal."

You both broke out into soft laughter, Marilyn beginning to complain that Larissa had received more gifts in one afternoon than you both had combined over the week, yet you didn't pay mind, rushing into the blondes open arms as she held back tears.