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bernardsbendystraws · 8 months ago

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Fresh Air

Matt Sturniolo x Reader

Check out my pinned post for more of my writing.

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Summary: One night at a party seems to change everything. A strange man with a friendly smile and a sleeve of patchwork tattoos seems to make you feel at home for a change. You're finally happy to have made a good friend to lean on - especially when it comes to your not-so-great relationship with your boyfriend. But what happens if you lean too much...what happens if you fall?

Warnings: 18+. This series contains mature themes, read at your own risk. (SMUT, angst, parental troubles, financial hardships, and more. Don't like, don't read.) This warning is made for all parts.

A/N: To be added to the taglist, send a request in my inbox or comment on the pinned post. I'm far more likely to see requests sent to my inbox.

With love and big tits, Rose.

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01: open up the door

The hot flashes of light didn’t take away from his eyes burning into my skin. Every pose, I’d catch a quick glance of him in the corner of my eyes, but he just wouldn’t look away. Matt simply sighed, wandering around the set.

“Relax your face a bit and…perfect,” the director guides. My lips fall into a subtle smile. I can feel Manon, the other model, leaning against me, moving with ease and grace as I struggle to keep up.

They weren’t critiquing her—only me. She was perfect. Years of modeling experience, a face that could fit with any vibe and aesthetic…she didn’t have anything to worry about. I did. The problem was me. Any issue they found, it was my fault.

At first, it was my hands. I kept fidgeting, not realizing the awkward position of my fingers would stand out that much. They did. And they made sure to tell me just how much.

“Okay, and….there!”

Danny, my manager, calls me up as the camera stops flashing. My skin feels heavy—almost as if it’s wet. It wasn’t the physical labor that drained me, it was the emotional exhaustion. The constant directions, the aggressive tones…it all hurt a bit too much.

Walking back to my makeup chair, I stare into the reflection. I don’t look like me, I don’t even feel like me. A hand lands on my shoulder. I don’t have to look up to know who it is, it’s him.

“You good?” Matt asks.

Nodding silently in response to him, he sighs. The light pressure of his hand massages onto my shoulder. I feel my muscles relax under his grasp, but the sound of steps makes my back jolt up straight.

“Hey, babe?”

Babe. I hated that name.

A huff pushes through my lips as I force myself to look over at him—Hayden. Matt’s hand drops from my shoulder. I frown, missing the warmth.

“You’re late.”

Matt’s bitter statement makes Hayden shrug, rolling his eyes.

“I got caught up in some things. Relax, man,” he says, walking over closer. I shy back into the chair as Hayden walks over to my side. “How was it, babe?”

Babe. I bite my tongue as I shove miscellaneous items of mine back into my purse from the makeup vanity top. “It was okay, I just…why are you so late?” I ask.

Looking at him through the mirror, I see him staring at his phone. Of course.

“Are you—”

Hearing Matt’s spitting tone, I look over my shoulder to give him a pointed glare. Don’t. The silent warning is enough. Matt shakes his head, walking away with heavy shoulders.

I hear Hayden laugh. Turning to look at him, I’m met with the sight of him leaning forward. Before I can even process anything, his arms tightly wrap around me. My body tenses as I lightly pat his back.

“Thanks,” I mumble.

“Mhm. I have a date planned for us tonight.” My eyes widen at his statement. Tonight? “It’s that event you really wanted to go to. That bonfire night with all your friends and shit.”

Oh. The bonfire. I had asked him about it nearly a week ago, saying I wanted to go with friends. Although, the ‘friends’ implied Matt and his brothers. And a couple other people, but Hayden didn’t let me even get to their names before shutting the idea down completely.

Apparently, I only ever hung around them anymore. But I knew ‘them’ wasn’t the problem. It was Matt—and Chris, but mostly Matt. After Hayden learned Nick was gay, he didn’t care very much if I hung out with him or not. He didn’t openly say it, but I saw the hints of insecurity in the ways he gritted his teeth when spitting out Matt’s name.

Not only did it piss me off, but it was tiring. I wanted him to just say it. He had no reason to doubt me and I knew he was projecting. I was hoping it was just his own insecurities, but sometimes the way he smiled typing on his phone made me doubt how loyal he was.

“Babe?”

Babe. My teeth clenching into the side of my cheek pull me back to reality. I nod over at him, slinging my bag over my shoulder and standing by his side as we walk out.

“Yeah, that sounds good. Thanks for, um…” thanks for taking me to an event I wanted to go to without you? “---let’s just go to your place and eat real quick. I’m starving,” I say, opting out of much conversation as we walk to his car.

My hand attempts to pull open the passenger door, failing as the car remains locked. I look through the car windows, seeing him smiling down at his phone.

“Hayden?” I call out.

His head whips up, the look of realization plastering onto his face as he quickly unlocks the car and climbs in. I follow his actions and climb inside the vehicle, shrinking into the chair with paranoia.

Is he doing it right in front of me? Is he texting some other girl?

“Okay, yeah,” he states, shutting off his phone and throwing it into the cupholder. I look over at him, watching as he starts to drive down the road. “---Noah is just gonna meet us there with his girl.”

Squinting my eyes shut, I swallow a thick lump. He was texting Noah. Why would he take me on a date tonight if he was cheating on me? Why did I have to assume the worst?

Why was I projecting?

“Let’s get ready real quick. I might need you to make us dinner while I shower. We’re short on time and I can’t go like this,” he grabs his shirt, gesturing to the random stains covering his clothes.

Reaching over, I try to rub out the stain. My eyebrows furrow at the color, a neon green painted stain in the pale orange graphic T-shirt. “What even is this?” I question.

“Uhhh….” he scratches his head as he turns down the street. “---I think it’s some sort of goop? I don’t know, we did a Halloween theme for the video today, you know, pre-filming.”

The weight of my body relaxes back into the passenger seat as I hum in acknowledgment. Hayden made a podcast, one with all his ‘boys.’ I wasn’t the biggest fan. Sometimes, they said things that just didn’t sit right with me. But, it wasn’t my place to talk. It was his career and he had reminded me that I didn’t have to watch it.

I didn’t anymore. Not because of his comment, but because everytime I tried to watch it, I could hear my judgmental thoughts pushing forward. And it wasn’t my place to judge. It reminded me that I was the problem, that I was self sabotaging my life in any way possible.

“You okay, babe?”

Cringing, I nod curtly. “Yeah, just tired.”

My statement is quickly brushed off as he moves forward, turning up the volume to the music. The loud blasting makes my ears rush with a buzz. Why? I just said that I was tired.

“Are you serious?” I spit, the words falling out of my mouth before I can stop them.

Hayden pauses, turning down the music before shrinking back into his seat. “---’m sorry. I…I just got excited.”

Regret makes my heart feel heavy as we sit in an uncomfortable silence. Pursing my lips together, I reach out for his hand. The limb lays unmoving. “I’m sorry, I just…I—”

Slowly sliding his hand back into his lap, my body runs stiff. “You were just tired. I know. I…I can never do anything right. It just…I’m taking you somewhere you wanted to go after I worked all day. You…you never act like this with your friends. Why do you always—-you know what, forget it. We’re gonna have a good night. It’s…it’s whatever.”

His words make my skin crawl with an itch of disappointment. He tries. I sabotage. The opportunity of love I had always wanted was right in front of me, but my doubts and anger manifested constantly. I couldn’t imagine how he felt. How disappointed would he be if he knew the thoughts that ran through my head?

The car pulls into the driveway of his apartment. We walk into the minimalistic building silently, the elevator ride feeling like eternity.

“Just…I’ll go shower.”

He walks off down the hallway. My feet carry me to the kitchen while I start to rummage through the pantry and fridge. There’s plenty of options. Pasta, frozen meals, salads, and even pre-done things. I don’t know what he wants though.

Taking slow steps towards his bathroom, I knock on the door. “Ha—”

My lips slam shut as I hear an undeniable sound of moaning. Teary-eyed, I press my ear to the door, listening to the running water and lewd noises.

“Oh! Yes!”

The moans and slapping noises are fake, an obnoxious porn video looping on repeat while I stay frozen in place. He’s not cheating. He just doesn’t want me.

Who would want someone that makes them feel so less-than?

My feet patter lightly on the clean floors. I pull out a frozen pizza, putting it in the oven before laying on the couch. Swadling myself in a couple of blankets, I let out a shaky breath. I feel my phone vibrate, looking down at the screen to see a text from him—Matt.

| From Matt: I heard you’re coming to the bonfire tonight with him. |

Swallowing a thick lump, I feel a tightness gather in my chest.

| To Matt: Yeah. I didn’t know until now. Apparently I’m going with him and Noah and Paige |

The dots appearing on my screen are hypnotizing as I wait for him to send a message back. It doesn’t distract from the muffled noises coming from the bathroom, the fake moans meshed with familiar groans makes my stomach start to feel uneasy. Swarms of anxiety and loathing combine into a brutal mess.

| From Matt: Are we gonna be allowed to hang out? Or is he gonna be manhandling you all night again? |

Letting my phone drop on the couch, I heave in a shaky breath. He wasn’t wrong. It still didn’t feel nice to hear though. The last time we had all hung out at a party was a nightmare. Hayden’s arm around my shoulders was practically sewn into my skin. He dragged me to every corner, talking to all of his friends. Then he got mad at me when he saw me texting Matt.

To say the least, the night didn’t end well. But, it wasn’t just his fault. He wanted to spend time with me, introduce me to his friends. I was the one who was staring at my phone all night, texting Matt from across the room because I couldn’t stand listening to him and his friends trash talk things I loved.

I should’ve just sucked it up. Maybe the night wouldn’t have ended so terribly if I had just been a good girlfriend and actually tried to relate to his friends. It was my fault. I grew silent instead of redirecting the conversation. The effort was non-existent on my end.

Getting so caught up in my own thoughts, I barely register Hayden’s figure walking into the living room while tugging a muted red T-shirt over his head. His slick hair is dripping onto the fabric, his gaze shifting around the room until his eyes land on me.

“Did you set a timer?” he asks, nodding his head over in the direction of the oven.

Fuck.

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Cracks of firewood and cedar blister through the air. The spit from the fire lands on my hand, a slight sting making me clap onto my own arm.

“Did it spit at you? Are you good?” Matt asks from beside me.

Opening my mouth to respond, I’m cut off by Hayden tugging his arm tighter around my shoulders, repositioning me to turn and face Noah and Niki. Their conversation is blurred by my instincts. I whip my head around, giving Matt a quick sympathetic frown. He sighs, looking down before walking away.

“---tell them how you got a new gig today, babe.” Hayden looks down at me with wide eyes, urging me to speak. My mouth gapes as I stare at the three pairs of eyes.

“It’s…uh, it’s for Space Camp. Nick’s new brand.” I answer. The looks on their faces tell me more than their words. Smiles of acknowledgment fade into an aura of judgment. He’s my friend, it’s not a job—it’s a favor.

Their conversation is blurred by my overbearing thoughts. Crashing waves and the ringing in my ears make my body jitter with anxiety. Minutes feel like hours as the weight of Hayden’s arm around my shoulders starts to feel heavier and heavier.

“Hey, um,” I whisper upward, tugging on his shirt as he stares down at me with predicting eyes. “---I’m gonna—”

“Whatever, just go,” he spits. My hand falls by my side. The curl in my stomach grows with nausea as I remove myself from under his arm. Anticipation of feeling lighter is gone. It all feels so heavy—his words lingering in my mind, filling me with regret as I try to take a deep breath.

“---he finally let you go, hm?”

Looking up, I’m met with his eyes. Matt’s lips relax as he analyzes my appearance. The furrowed creases in my face seem to alert him as he takes a couple steps towards me, lightly grabbing my arm and starting to guide me further away from the crowd.

“Hey,” he turns me to face him. The sunset glows onto his face, the saturation creating a hue of welcoming energy as I feel the exhaustion creep into every muscle in my body. “---are you—well…do you wanna talk about it?” he asks.

With a slow shake of my head, he huffs. “Let’s….let’s just sit down, alright? He’s being a real dick. I don’t know how you fuckin’ put up with this shit, I really don’t,” he mutters bitterly.

Matt starts to sit down, patting the sand next to him as he crosses his arms over his bent knees. Silently, I lower myself down next to him. My legs glide upward as I let my hands graze the surface of the sand.

“Are you…is this all he’s doing? I know it’s none of my business. I’m trying not to push—I really am, but…” Matt trails off, unsure of how to ask the burning question.

“He doesn’t hit me.”

“That’s…I don’t know, okay? Something isn’t right. I—I can tell something isn’t right. Just…talk to me, please. What’s wrong?” he breathes out, huffing the question in defeat while letting his eyes drift over to me. I suck my bottom lip in between my teeth.

My head whirls around to spot Hayden, seeing him talking to Noah still, but his body language tells me more than I want to know. He’s stiff. The way he’s standing shows me how tense he feels, how frustrated he is. And it’s my fault—it’s because of me.

“It’s my fault. I’m the one fucking things up. I….I keep being such a bitch and—I don’t even know why.” My teeth clench at the end of my statement, the pulse in my ears growing with a drum as I dig my fingers into the sand. The grits seep under my nail beds, a slight sting making me wince.

His warm hand shields mine from the gust of wind. I feel Matt gently grab my wrist, placing my limp hand back into my lap as he hesitantly looks over my shoulder. “Fuck,” he whispers under his breath.

“What?” I ask.

Shaking his head, Matt leans forward once more. “Nothing, it’s just, well—how do you think it’s your fault? Let’s start there. Because—truthfully, I don’t think you’re seeing the full picture.”

“It’s my relationship, Matt. You—” my face scrunches as I remember the events from earlier. The moaning. The dumb fucking groans coming from the other side of the bathroom door. “---you don’t see the stuff I see. I mean, the man is disgusted with me because I make him feel so shitty about himself. He…he doesn’t even want me, but—I don’t think I can really blame him anymore,” I sigh.

A silence follows my words. I look over, finding Matt’s face twisted with an unreadable expression. His lips part for a moment, pulling shut before he turns to look over at me.

Cocking an eyebrow at him, I wait patiently as his eyes glance over my shoulder. “I—-do you wanna get a milkshake?” he offers.

My mind buffers for a moment. Taking a quick look over my shoulder, I see Hayden staring directly at us, a bitter squint of his eyes apparent in the fading sunlight. Well.

“Yeah, I’ll just go tell him real quick. Hold on.”

I get up, hearing Matt slowly start to dust off his jeans while I take hesitant steps over to Hayden. My heartbeat seems to quicken as my boyfriend's jaw clicks and he swallows gruffly.

Tapping on his shoulder, I frown as he just shakes his head with a loud huff. “What?”

The overwhelming exhaustion settles in the pit of my gut as my hands clutch around my waist. “I…I was just gonna go—”

“Yeah. Go with Matt, because I’m driving the car back alone. Just…you really couldn’t even try for five minutes, could you?” he seethes.

My eyes water at his tone. With flushed cheeks growing in color, I shake my head. “I…I did try, I just—I already worked today, this is really over—-”

“It wasn’t overwhelming when you wanted to come alone though. Just go. Because—I worked too. I left earlier than you did. You…keep making excuses, keep running off with that guy. I…I’m so tired of you—you, fuck. Just leave. Leave before I say something I’ll regret.”

Teeth clank in my mouth as I clutch my jaw shut tightly, attempting to stop my quivering lip. My feet shift in the sand. Looking up, I see Matt’s eyes squinting at me and peeping behind my shoulder with concern and curiosity.

A slight shake of my head tells him enough. He opens up the passenger side door, closing it after I step in, walking around to the driver’s seat before starting the car. The familiar playlist starts to flow from the speakers at a peaceful level.

“Do you want to catch some of ‘em for me while I drive? I know you don’t wanna talk about it, but it will at least keep your mind distracted.” Matt’s offer is sweet. He shoves his phone into my hands, the familiar Pokemon animations making me sigh.

“Matt, I suck at—”

“Can you catch them for me? Please?” he asks.

Squinting my eyes at him, I look around the cupholders of the car. “Don’t you have that gadget? The one that catches them for you?” I question.

“Oh, look! Oh my god….so cute,” Matt coos, pointing at a dog as the car starts to drive forward. The light tone in his voice makes me smile, relaxing into the seat as I stare down at the screen.

“Do you need directions?” I ask.

Quick to shake his head, he pops out the brisk statement. “Nope.”

My fingers dart on the screen, helplessly trying to play the game while cliffsides pass by in my peripheral vision. His hums wash over me, giving me a sense of relief. The sensations of warmth radiating below me make me look to the seat warmer button, seeing the red glow signifying he turned it on for me. My bottom lip pouts down from the kind gesture.

“You turned my seat heater on?” I point out.

Matt’s eyes quickly gleam over at me. He hums in response. “Mhm, just—relax for a couple minutes, okay? You…you don’t have to worry about anything right now. Not when you’re with me.”

My bones seem to melt in my body, complying with his words as I feel the light buzz of the engine practically rocking me to sleep. The dimming sky seems to leave my eyes falling, my hands curling around his phone.

__________

“---yeah, and that’ll be all.”

Matt’s voice makes my mind stir awake. The soft material of his sweatshirt rubs against my cheek. His arm is resting on the center console, my head resting on his shoulder as I slowly start to sit up.

“Get a good nap?” he jokes. I hazily nod, smiling as his light chuckle gets louder. He slowly pulls through the drive-thru window, milkshakes set in each of the cupholders and a brown paper bag set in between them. It smells so good.

Parking, Matt hands me one of the cups, sticking the straw in it before crumpling the paper in his hand and tossing it into the front compartment. My eyes follow his actions, pausing as I notice the red and white circle—the fucking Pokemon gadget.

“Liar.”

Matt’s eyes shift to mine with confusion. I raise my eyebrows, my eyes flickering between him and the circular object. He follows my gesture, a sheepish smile covering his features as he shrugs. “Whoops. Forgot, I guess.”

I roll my eyes at his statement, taking a sip of the sweet drink as he pulls out a box of fries from the bag, placing it on my lap. “You got me fries? I thought we were just getting milkshakes?”

A quick shrug from his end brushes off the gesture as if it was nothing, but I can’t help the grin that slowly pulls tighter on my lips. Leaning over the console, I press a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you,” I mumble, shoving a fry in my mouth as his skin begins to flush with a pink saturation.

“I, uh—yeah,” he rushes, grabbing another box of fries from the bag and starting to munch on them.

The silence is soothing. My mind seems to wander around my subconscious as if I’m still asleep. I notice the air whistling and creeping in from a small crack in the tops of the windows. Fresh air leaks in, a cool breeze making me feel lighter.

“Ya know,” Matt looks over to me with raised eyebrows. “---we could watch some halloween movies back at mine. Sleepover? I bet Nick and Chris will love—-”

“I’d love to.” The short answer makes us mirror a smile at each other. I feel something pulling me in the back of my mind, a vibration in my lap making me feel more aware. Looking down at my phone, the screen lights up with a text.

| From Hayden: We need to talk. |

I feel my face fall with realization and regret. Why? Why do I have to make him feel so unimportant to me? Why is it so hard for me to please him?

“Hey,” Matt pets over my hand with his own fingers. I watch the screen fade into black before letting myself look up into his eyes. “---whatever is going on, just forget about it tonight. Nick and Chris…they miss you—I miss you.”

My head falls pathetically against the headrest behind me as I squint my eyes shut in frustration. “Matt, I can’t–”

“Hey, you….text him. Tell him you just need a minute to yourself for a clear mind. He’s gotta understand that. I…I know I don’t know everything, but…I know you. It’s—it’s killing me watching you be so paranoid all the time. I’m your friend, let me be there for you, okay? I just…you need to take care of yourself for a minute.”

He’s right. I know he’s right. Nodding, I take a gulp as I type a quick message.

| To Hayden: I’m just gonna spend the night with Nick, Matt, and Chris. I just need to take care of myself for a minute and clear my head. I can come over tomorrow and we can talk? |

Hitting send, I stare at the screen as I watch the typing bubbles appear and disappear. The screen begins to dim. I tap on it, sighing loudly as I watch for a response—one that I know deep down just isn’t coming. I feel Matt’s fingers curl around my hand tighter.

“Just…don’t worry about him right now. Worry about you. He should understand that you need to be alone or with other people. Here,” Matt grabs my phone from my lap, holding down the power button and sliding the device to power off completely.

Taking in a deep breath, I feel my lungs fully inflate with the cool air from outside. “I…thank you. You’re a good friend, I—I really appreciate you,” I say softly.

My eyes drift back to his, finding intent in the way he gleams back at me. It’s like layers of plastic are being peeled away from my skin, leaving me bare and boneless under his gaze.

“I…I really like being there for you,” he whispers back.

Alarm bells ring off in my head as the peace becomes too much. I shouldn’t feel like this—I shouldn’t want to lean in closer. Leaning my back completely against the seat, I watch as he stares down at the center console with a light breath falling from his parted lips.

Silence consumes us as he stares down at our hands. He swivels his thumb against the back of my palm, clearing his throat as he looks back up at me with a soft smile. “So…” he trails off, his soft fingers tracing lightly over my own. “Hocus Pocus or The Haunted Mansion?”

“Will Chris and Nick even wanna watch a Halloween movie? It’s barely September,” I point out.

Matt gives me a light shrug, “Well, I just wanna do what I know makes you happy. Fuck them. It can just be us. So, which one? You know I love doing anything that involves fall.”

“I don’t wanna decide. I hate deciding!” I exclaim. Laughing at me, Matt shakes his head while staring down in his lap. “Ugh. They’re both good. You pick? Please?” I smile.

Matt looks up at me, nodding as he turns the car on. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t worry, I’ll choose, I’ll choose. Just…can we wear our matching PJs? The Halloween ones?” he asks.

I nod firmly. “Well, duh. Nick and Chris better put their on too—even if they don’t wanna watch the movie with us.”

“We could make cookies and bribe them,” Matt taunts. Looking over at him with a smirk, I whip my head as soon as he looks over at me with daring eyes.

“I like the way you think,” I say, watching out the passenger window as familiar buildings pass by.

“Awww, thanks.” I snort out a laugh at his sarcastic tone. “I’ll even feed you the raw cookie dough, but you can’t eat too much. I don’t wanna accidentally kill you,” he reasons, huffing with a dry laugh.

The gentle care in his soft voice is enough to make my face feel hot from emotion. It just feels so relieving—but that relief came with a hint of looming guilt swaying on my shoulders.

I’m not cheating. I would never cheat. Our lips never touched, but our eyes seemed to linger a bit too long at times. Why did I feel like this with him? Why did I feel like he had touched every part of my soul when he hadn’t even seen me naked?

Why couldn’t I have met him a little sooner? Why did it have to be the day before Hayden asked me to officially be his girlfriend.

“You won’t kill me,” I lean onto his shoulder, smiling as I feel him lay his own head on top of mine for a quick second. “You care too much. You just…you’re too sweet, Matt. It’s almost annoying,” I joke.

Matt huffs his hand squeezing mine as he turns down a familiar street. “You love it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I say, swallowing a thick lump of guilt. “I guess I do.”

A little too much.

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Thank you for reading. Any interaction is appreciated!!! Comment if you would like to be added to the taglist. Let me know your thoughts !!!

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prettiestpear · 6 months ago

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I made some color palettes inspired by my work and I'm kind of obsessed.

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bodybaggage · 11 months ago

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Shadows in Gotham

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Gotham’s twilight sky was a patchwork of purples and reds, a fading canvas that gave way to the inky blackness of night. The city was alive with the usual sounds of distant sirens, honking horns, and the underlying hum of danger that never quite left its streets. For Danny Fenton, now in his early twenties, Gotham was supposed to be a fresh start—a place to lay low and raise his unconventional family.

His daughter, Danielle, Ellie, as she preferred—skipped ahead on the cracked sidewalk, her energy boundless despite the long day. She looked about ten years old, though she was technically more of a clone than a traditional daughter. She had Danny’s black hair but with an unruly curl to it, and her bright blue eyes sparkled with a mischievous light. Beside Danny, holding his hand, was a boy who looked no older than eight. His hair was tousled, and his expression was a strange mix of innocence and the haunting wisdom of someone far older. This was Dan, Danny’s de-aged evil future self, a living, breathing reminder of what could go wrong if they weren’t careful.

The trio moved through the narrow streets, Danny’s senses on high alert as they made their way back to the modest apartment they now called home. He had retired from the life of a ghostly vigilante, focusing instead on keeping his small family safe and hidden from the relentless pursuit of the Guys in White (GIW). To the world, they were just another struggling family in Gotham. But beneath the surface, their existence was anything but ordinary.

“Can we get pizza tonight?” Ellie asked, her voice full of hope as she glanced back at Danny.

“Pizza sounds good,” Danny replied with a smile. “But it’s Gotham, so let’s hope the delivery guy makes it to our place in one piece.”

Ellie giggled, and even Dan let out a rare smile, though it was fleeting. The moment of normalcy was interrupted by the sound of a scuffle up ahead. Danny’s instincts kicked in as he pulled his kids closer, eyes narrowing at the scene unfolding just around the corner.

A man, clearly desperate, was trying to rob a woman at gunpoint. The woman’s purse dangled from his shaky hand, and fear was etched across her face. Danny knew he should keep moving, that getting involved could blow their cover, but he couldn’t just walk away.

“Stay here,” Danny whispered to Ellie and Dan, his voice firm.

Before he could intervene, a shadowy figure dropped from the rooftops, landing silently behind the mugger. The man didn’t stand a chance as a blur of red and black moved with lethal precision. Within seconds, the mugger was disarmed and unconscious on the pavement.

Red Hood stood over the man, his stance relaxed but ready, as if this was just another routine night in Gotham. He turned to the woman, who quickly grabbed her purse and bolted, muttering her thanks. It was only then that Red Hood noticed Danny and the kids standing just a few feet away, watching the scene unfold.

Danny tensed as the vigilante’s eyes—hidden behind that crimson helmet—seemed to study them. He instinctively placed a hand on each of his kids’ shoulders, ready to flee if things went south.

“You alright?” Red Hood asked, his voice rough but not unkind. He seemed to soften at the sight of the kids, his posture relaxing ever so slightly.

“Yeah, we’re fine,” Danny replied, his tone cautious. “Just heading home.”

Red Hood’s gaze flicked between Danny and the children, and Danny could almost feel the wheels turning behind that mask. This was Gotham, after all, a city full of dark secrets. A young man, barely an adult, with two small kids in tow—it wasn’t hard to jump to conclusions.

“You live around here?” Red Hood pressed, the curiosity in his voice making Danny’s stomach tighten.

“Not far,” Danny answered, hoping to end the conversation quickly. “Just trying to keep my family safe.”

Red Hood nodded slowly, as if weighing his next words. “Gotham’s not exactly the best place to raise kids, especially if you’re... alone.”

Danny’s jaw clenched, recognizing the underlying question. “We manage.”

Before Red Hood could probe further, Ellie stepped forward, her usual boldness taking over. “He’s the best dad ever! And we don’t need any help, mister.”

Red Hood chuckled softly, the sound almost disarming. “I’m sure he is, kid. But just in case, you should know there are people around here who can help... if you ever need it.”

Danny forced a tight smile, grateful for Ellie’s fierce loyalty but wary of the attention they’d attracted. “Thanks, but we’re good.”

Red Hood seemed to accept this, though the suspicion in his stance didn’t entirely fade. “Take care of yourself,” he said finally, before turning and vanishing into the shadows as quickly as he’d appeared.

Danny let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. The encounter had been brief, but he knew it wouldn’t be the last. The Bat Family had eyes everywhere, and their curiosity was piqued.

“Let’s get home,” Danny murmured, guiding Ellie and Dan down the street with renewed urgency.

They reached their apartment without further incident, the familiar creak of the stairs a welcome sound. Once inside, Danny locked the door and sagged against it, the weight of their precarious situation pressing down on him.

Ellie flopped onto the worn couch, her earlier bravado replaced with concern. “Are we in trouble, Dad?”

Danny ruffled her hair affectionately. “No, Ellie. We’re just... being careful. That’s all.”

Dan sat quietly at the kitchen table, his eyes distant as he processed the night’s events. “He was one of the Bats, wasn’t he?”

Danny nodded, joining Dan at the table. “Yeah, Red Hood. He’s... complicated. But we should be alright if we keep a low profile.”

The night passed uneventfully, but the encounter with Red Hood lingered in Danny’s mind. He knew that living in Gotham meant constant vigilance, but the thought of the Bat Family watching them added a new layer of stress.

---

Meanwhile, across town, the Bat Family gathered in the Batcave, the massive space filled with the glow of computer screens and the quiet hum of machinery.

“Interesting case tonight,” Red Hood—Jason Todd—began as he removed his helmet, revealing the slightly tousled dark hair underneath. “Ran into a guy with two kids. They seemed... out of place.”

“Out of place in Gotham?” Dick Grayson, quipped from where he was perched on the edge of the Batcomputer’s console. “That’s pretty much everyone.”

Jason shot him a look. “Not like that. The guy was young, barely in his twenties. The kids were ten and eight, maybe. And something about them just... felt off.”

Bruce Wayne, Batman, looked up from the screen, his expression unreadable. “Off how?”

Jason hesitated, searching for the right words. “I don’t know. There’s something he’s not saying. And those kids—they’re attached to him, but it’s like they’re all trying to stay under the radar.”

Damian Wayne, the current Robin, scoffed. “Plenty of people try to stay out of sight in this city. It’s not our problem unless they break the law.”

“Yeah, but...” Jason trailed off, running a hand through his hair. “There’s a chance that guy’s a victim. The way the girl talked about him, it was like she was protecting him.”

Bruce’s eyes narrowed. “Do you think the children are in danger?”

Jason frowned, shaking his head. “Not from him. I think they’re all running from something.”

Silence settled over the Batcave as they considered the implications. Bruce stood, his presence commanding as ever. “Keep an eye on them. Gotham has a way of uncovering secrets, and we can’t afford to overlook anything.”

---

Back at the apartment, Danny lay awake, staring at the ceiling. The shadows played tricks in the dim light, reminding him of the life he left behind. He had taken on more than just the role of a father—he had become a protector, a shield against the darkness that sought to consume them.

But Gotham was relentless, and he knew their time in the shadows was running out.

---

🧌

#dp x dc crossover #dc x dp #dp x dc #danny phantom #de-aged dan #de-aged danielle

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accidentcache · 3 months ago

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Touya being forced to interact with his ex because they still work in the same place and can't afford to find somewhere else

stared at this prompt and then fob came on. so surprise surprise. no quirk au!

touya's arms were crossed tightly over his chest, his back ached from slouching in the hard plastic chair positioned just outside his boss' office. his foot tapped against the linoleum-- probably the only sign of anxious behavior that he's choosing to show.

he's been waiting for how long? ten minutes so far? on his boss to finish whatever conversation, meeting-- whatever-- so he could talk to him about getting more hours or switching areas.

it's been months and every shift with you is torture. he would've thought you found another job by now after the two of you split. it would be just like you to be stubborn about staying-- but either you're trying to make the pain harder or in the same situation he's in-- stuck and struggling to get out.

touya jumped ever so slightly when the door swings open, but the scowl deepens when he sees you make your way out. there's a weird heavy bitterness that forms in his chest whenever he sees you now. he wasn't one to smile before, but even more so now does the curl of his lip turn downwards.

he doesn't miss the way you jump slightly when you notice him off to the side. how your eyes scan him for the briefest of moments-- he tries to ignore it. but upon seeing him, you step back into the boss' office; mumble something that he doesn't catch before you're stepping back out.

"he'll be with you in a moment," you mumble, just loud enough for him to hear. there's a wave of peony that wafts by that follows your form and touya feels his stomach curl.

the last time you wore that perfume was weeks ago. he remembers because that was a shift where it was shockingly cordial between the both of you. and he remembered just how sweet you smelled when you walked by ever so often to grab your orders.

he forgot you had that perfume, honestly. was it one that he had gifted you? or was it one that you bought yourself? he couldn't remember.

"hope it's nothing important," you add, there's a strange tension in your tone. you stop just short of the water fountain just a couple steps away from the office. "i don't think he's in a good mood today."

touya feels his skin itch. if he could just get you to spare more than just a glance at him, to really look at him-- he could show you that he misses you. that he's sorry. just look deeper than the patchwork of skin that litters his body and see him; like you used to.

"i just," touya clears his throat, the rough and scratchy tone still remains however. too many cigarettes and screaming in his one bedroom studio apartment have ruined his vocal chords. "i just wanted to talk to him about my hours."

"oh," your lips purse. he doesn't know whether to take it as surprise or emptiness like he's to from you lately. "more or less?"

"more," touya huffs out with he tries to frame as a laugh. "tryna get out of that fuckass apartment."

the corner of your mouth twitches. you knew all to well just how much of a shithole his apartment was. more often than not, touya was staying over at your place the entirety of your relationship. he knows the layout of your apartment better than he knew the way home to his.

you finish filling your waterbottle at the fountain and keep your breaths even, measured. your chest feels tight, restricted under your uniform shirt. you look back, forcing a polite smile on your lips that you know he can see past.

"good luck," you find yourself saying. "you'll need it."

touya only nods in response, watching as you make yourself further down the hall.

oh, the torture of small talk with someone you used to love.

#response cache #anon #cache money!#bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha x reader #bnha x reader #touya todoroki #touya todoroki x reader #dabi mha #dabi bnha #dabi x reader #touya x reader

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wyrmscraft · 2 years ago

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More quilted purses! All of these are the same pattern, different fabrics. I was surprised the red and white and plaid deer sold as quick as it did, though I probably shouldn’t have been.

I do try to keep the interior light with the focus fabric on the pockets because I’ve found it’s easier to see inside your purse if it’s not dark.

But.

You know.

Sometimes I can’t help but line it in a dark fabric because it’s aesthetically pleasing.

#gay crafting #quilting #patchwork #quilted purse #purse #plaid #steampunk #buffalo plaid #metal gears #horses #fruit #flowers

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pattisdollie · 27 days ago

Text

🕯️An Odd Day🪬

Lilia Calderu x Fem!Reader

Tags: cunn!l!ngus, thigh riding, praise k!nk, smut, n!pple play, p!rn with some plot, nicknames,

Summary: After passing by her shop, day after day, you had finally decided to give in and give it a try. You had no idea what plans she had with you. But, god, it was the most best thing to have ever happened to you.

Wc: ~ 6k

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

It was an odd day.

The sun beamed brighter than usual, bathing Westview in a warm, honeyed light. The town, normally buzzing with distant lawnmowers, barking dogs, and idle gossip, had fallen quiet. The silence wasn’t eerie—it was peaceful. Calming, even. A strange kind of perfect.

You stretched in bed, blinking slowly against the sunlight bleeding through your curtains. Something about the stillness in the air made your skin prickle with anticipation. Like the day was meant for something out of the ordinary. You couldn’t place the feeling exactly, but it settled deep in your chest, urging you into motion.

That’s when you remembered the sign at the end of Main Street.

Madame Calderu’s Psychic Readings.

You’d passed it dozens of times but never bothered to go in. It always looked like the sort of place that belonged more in a fairytale than a suburban town. Mismatched trinkets in the window. Candles always burning even in the daylight. Velvet curtains hiding whatever lay beyond the glass. Today, though, it called to you.

A reading. Tarot, maybe. Or palm. Just for fun.

You practically rolled out of bed and headed for your closet, still groggy but moving with a strange sense of purpose. You pulled on a patchwork-print skirt that brushed your ankles, a striped brown top with a soft hemline, and a loose shawl that hung off your shoulders like autumn fog. Black boots completed the look. Earthy, soft—something that felt just right for the strange little shop.

Keys. Purse. And then you were out the door.

The breeze kissed your skin, threading its fingers through your hair. It wasn’t cold, not exactly—but it was cool enough to send shivers chasing down your spine. The streets of Westview passed you by slowly, sunlit and quiet, until finally, you stood in front of the shop.

The neon sign in the window glowed faintly, even in daylight. It flickered every few seconds, just enough to feel a little off. The window offered a glimpse into the dim interior: a round table draped in deep violet cloth, flickering candles, shelves lined with jars and books. And at the center of it all, a massive crystal ball sat like a silent sentinel, waiting.

You pushed the door open.

A bell chimed softly above you, its delicate sound breaking the stillness. The scent of sandalwood and something deeper—maybe incense—wrapped around you instantly. The air inside was thick, almost heavy. Not unpleasant, but ancient. Like the place had soaked up years of whispers and secrets.

Your eyes wandered, taking in the little space. Shelves filled with aged books, dried herbs hanging upside down, small charms and crystals laid out like offerings. Candles burned low in their holders, casting soft, dancing shadows across the walls. That same round table sat in the center, its purple cloth embroidered with gold thread. And the crystal ball—it pulsed faintly, as if breathing.

“This is… interesting,” you murmured to yourself, your voice barely louder than a whisper. The stillness of the room made you feel like speaking too loudly might shatter something delicate.

But your thoughts were interrupted by the soft, smoky voice of a woman.

“Welcome to the curious.”

You startled and turned your head sharply toward the sound.

She stood in the doorway behind a curtain you hadn’t noticed before. At first glance, she looked older—late fifties, maybe early sixties—with curls of silver and black pulled into a loose, elegant bun. A few strands framed her sharp cheekbones and the mischievous glint in her eyes. Her lips curled in a slow, knowing smile as she stepped forward, the hem of her long skirt whispering over the floor.

There was something magnetic about her. A quiet confidence that wrapped around you like velvet. Her presence filled the room with ease.

“I’m Madame Calderu,” she said, tilting her head as she studied you. “But you can call me Lilia, if it makes you more comfortable.”

You nodded, unable to speak for a moment. There was something about the way she said your comfort mattered—like she already knew you were a bit nervous, a bit unsure. She gestured toward the round table with a slow wave of her hand.

“Come,” she said softly. “Let’s take a look at that future of yours.”

You moved without thinking, like her voice alone had tugged at a string inside your chest. As you sat down across from her, the candlelight caught in her eyes, and for a moment, it looked like they shimmered red.

You blinked. Gone.

Lilia’s fingers brushed over the deck of tarot cards as she settled across from you, her movements slow and graceful. Every flick of her wrist, every glance, seemed rehearsed yet effortless. Like a dance.

“You’re sensitive,” she said suddenly, her tone gentle. “Open. Curious. But you hold back.”

You stared, unsure how she could already know that. She smiled again, this time with the faintest hint of amusement.

“Don’t worry. I’m very good with people like you.”

Her hands moved again, shuffling the cards with a practiced ease that was almost hypnotic.

“And you’re in luck,” she added, leaning in just slightly. “Today’s the perfect day to be led somewhere new.”

Her words echoed in your head longer than they should have. And you weren’t sure if she meant led by fate, or by her.

You weren’t sure which one you wanted more.

Absolutely—here comes the continuation, deepening the atmosphere and introducing that teasing, dominant energy you’re after.

Lilia’s fingers glided over the cards, her rings catching the candlelight with little flickers of gold. You sat across from her, trying not to fidget, but her eyes were heavy on you—watching, studying.

She drew three cards and laid them in a row, her touch careful, almost reverent. You leaned in a little, curious, but hesitant to speak.

She chuckled under her breath, low and smooth.

“You’re shy,” she said, not as a question but as a statement. “You don’t like when people watch you too closely. You prefer to disappear into the background.”

You didn’t answer right away. Her words weren’t wrong. She didn’t need confirmation. She could already see it—probably in the nervous way your fingers hovered near your lap, in how you avoided her gaze when her voice dipped low.

“But you came here,” Lilia went on, flipping over the first card. “Which means part of you wants to be seen.”

The card showed a figure standing at the edge of a cliff, looking out into a bright horizon.

“The Fool,” she said. “New beginnings. Blind faith. Trusting the path without knowing where it leads.”

Her eyes flicked up to yours. “You trust very easily.”

You shifted in your seat, the shawl slipping slightly off one shoulder. Her gaze dipped—just for a second—before she returned to the next card.

“The Moon.” Her tone darkened, just slightly. “Secrets. Intuition. Desire hidden beneath the surface.”

She leaned forward then, resting her elbows on the table. Her sleeves slid back just enough to reveal delicate bracelets that clinked softly against her skin. Her voice dropped lower, almost a whisper.

“You have a longing you don’t talk about,” she murmured. “Something deep. Something tender.”

Your breath caught.

She was too good at this.

The final card turned.

“The Lovers.”

Your cheeks flushed instantly. You couldn’t help it. Lilia’s lips twitched as if she found your reaction adorable.

“Well now,” she said, tapping the card gently. “Isn’t that interesting?”

You could hardly meet her eyes. Something about the way she spoke made your chest tighten and your stomach flutter. It wasn’t just the words. It was her tone—confident, slow, like she already knew how the story would go and was only playing it out for your benefit.

“You want to be chosen,” she said, her voice soft, coaxing. “Guided. You’re the kind of person who craves a gentle hand to show you where to go. You don’t want to take the lead.”

Your lips parted like you were about to object, but… nothing came out.

Because she was right.

You didn’t want to lead. You wanted someone like her—someone who looked at you like she already knew all the answers—to take you somewhere unfamiliar, to teach you something you didn’t even know how to ask for.

Lilia sat back in her chair, her fingers still resting on the Lovers card.

“You’re easy to read,” she said, smiling, “but I wonder how deep it goes.”

Your heart thudded.

“I think,” she added, “you’d let someone like me take you apart, wouldn’t you?”

It was a simple question, but it sent a thrill straight through your spine.

Her smile widened when you didn’t answer.

“It’s alright,” she said, standing slowly. Her long skirt flowed around her legs like mist. “You don’t need to say anything yet.”

You watched as she moved around the table, slow steps in soft boots, until she was behind you. Her fingers brushed your shoulders, featherlight. She adjusted your shawl without asking, letting it fall gently down your arms.

“I like you like this,” she whispered, just behind your ear. “Quiet. Obedient. Curious.”

Your breath hitched.

She leaned down, her curls brushing your cheek. You could feel her body just behind yours—close enough to be warm, not quite touching.

“If I told you to stay still,” she whispered, “you would, wouldn’t you?”

You nodded before you could stop yourself.

A soft hum of approval escaped her.

“Good girl.”

Those two words set your nerves on fire.

You felt dizzy with want, with the heat in her voice and the closeness of her body. She was barely touching you, but it was enough to make you squirm.

She straightened, letting her fingers slide slowly away from your skin.

“Come,” she said again, that same soft command. “I’ll make us tea.”

You stood, your legs a little shaky, and followed her past the curtain into the back room. The air was warmer here, filled with the scent of honey and herbs. A small kitchen, cozy and dark, waited. Copper pots hung from hooks, and bundles of dried lavender were tied with twine along the shelves. It felt like stepping into another world.

Lilia moved with grace, pouring water into a kettle and lighting the stove with a flick of her fingers. You swore the flame appeared before she even touched the match.

You stayed still, like she’d asked. Watching.

Waiting.

“You’re doing well,” she said, back still turned. “Most people like you squirm.”

“I… I want to be good,” you whispered.

She turned then, slowly, and walked back over to you. Her fingers reached up to your cheek, brushing a hair behind your ear.

“I know,” she said, voice barely audible now. “And I’ll make sure you are.”

The kitchen was dim and warm, the kind of cozy that settled into your bones. The soft flicker of candlelight cast long shadows on the stone counters and wood-paneled walls. Everything about the space felt like it belonged in a place untouched by time—like magic had soaked into the very grain of the floorboards.

You stood just inside the doorway, unsure if you should move or speak, your fingers nervously toying with the hem of your skirt. Lilia’s back was to you, the kettle now heating on the small stove. Her movements were quiet, measured. Everything she did had purpose, and somehow even pouring water felt sensual under her touch.

You swallowed, voice timid. “Your reading… it was really spot on.”

Lilia didn’t turn, but you could see her smile in the curve of her shoulder.

“Of course it was,” she said simply, as if your awe amused her. “You’re not as hard to read as you think you are.”

You shifted your weight. “I didn’t mean I’m trying to be hard to read. I just…”

She turned then.

Just that—her turning to face you—was enough to make your breath hitch.

Her eyes met yours and held them there, still glowing softly in the candlelight. “You just don’t know what to do with someone like me.”

Your lips parted. “I…”

“I see the way you watch me,” she said, taking a slow step forward. “You pretend not to. You try to be subtle. But you’re curious. And you want to please me.”

Your cheeks burned. You hadn’t said it, not out loud, but every word she spoke was true.

“I didn’t think… I didn’t expect you to notice,” you murmured.

Lilia let out a low laugh—smooth, smoky.

“I notice everything, anima mia.”

The pet name sent a small flutter through your chest, soft and warm and dangerous. She was standing in front of you now, close enough to reach out, and your heart beat faster under her gaze.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you admitted, eyes dropping to the space between you. “I’ve never… I’ve never done anything like this. With anyone.”

Her hand lifted gently to your chin, tilting your head back up.

“I know,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “That’s why I like you.”

You let out a shaky breath, eyes wide. “You do?”

Her thumb grazed your bottom lip.

“Of course I do,” she purred. “You’re untouched. Open. Easy to mold.”

You swallowed hard. “And… you want to mold me?”

Her eyes darkened, and for the first time, she looked hungry.

“Oh, very much so.”

The kettle behind her began to whistle, the sound sharp and sudden in the quiet room. But Lilia didn’t flinch. She held your gaze a few seconds longer before turning, slowly, to remove it from the heat.

She moved gracefully, pouring the tea into two mismatched cups—one a delicate white porcelain, the other a deep wine red. She placed the red one in front of you.

You stared at it for a second before looking up. “What’s in it?”

She smiled, lifting her own cup to her lips. “Just a little something to help you relax.”

You raised your brows, caught between nervous and intrigued. “That sounds… suspicious.”

She tilted her head, her smile lazy. “Do you trust me?”

You paused.

Everything in you wanted to say yes, even if your mind was unsure. There was something in the way she spoke to you—like she already had her hands on the strings pulling you toward her.

“…I think I do,” you finally said.

She stepped closer again, her hand brushing along your forearm. “Then drink.”

You lifted the cup, your hands slightly trembling. The tea was fragrant—something floral, maybe chamomile, with a hint of spice. Warmth bloomed in your chest with the first sip, and you exhaled slowly, some of the tension in your shoulders fading.

“Good girl,” she murmured, fingers gently stroking your wrist.

You looked up at her, wide-eyed again. The words clung to your skin.

“I—no one’s ever called me that before,” you confessed.

She leaned in close, her lips nearly brushing your ear. “You like it, don’t you?”

You bit your lip. “I think so.”

She hummed in approval, her fingers trailing up your arm now, slow and light, sending goosebumps in their wake. “You don’t have to think. You just have to listen.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “Lilia…”

“Yes, tesoro?”

“What do you… want from me?”

She pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, her hand moving up to gently cradle your face.

“I want all the parts of you you’ve never given anyone else,” she said softly. “The parts you keep hidden. I want to show you how good it feels to let go. To be held. To be told what to do.”

You blinked slowly. “And you’ll take care of me?”

Her thumb brushed your cheek again. “Like you’re mine.”

Silence fell between you for a moment, thick and charged. You felt your heart pounding in your chest, but instead of fear, it was excitement. It was surrender.

“…Okay,” you whispered.

Her smile was slow and wicked. “That’s what I like to hear.”

She leaned down again, lips brushing the corner of your mouth—almost a kiss, but not quite.

“Finish your tea,” she said. “And then I’ll teach you something new.”

You held the teacup a little tighter in your hands, your lips tingling from where hers had almost—almost—touched. The taste of the tea lingered on your tongue, sweet and herbal, with something deeper beneath it, something earthy. You couldn’t name it, but it made your body feel warmer, heavier, like it was melting in slow motion.

You took another sip. Lilia watched.

She stood across from you, one hip against the counter, arms crossed under her chest. The candlelight behind her made her hair glow like a halo—soft curls escaping the bun at her neck, casting shadows on the sides of her face.

“I can already see it,” she said, eyes half-lidded. “You’re starting to relax.”

You nodded slowly, your voice softer than you expected. “It’s… warm.”

“Mhm.” She pushed off from the counter and walked back toward you, slow steps echoing faintly on the wood floor. “That warmth is my doing.”

You gave a breathy laugh, dizzy and a little shy. “I figured.”

She stopped in front of you, one hand slipping around the back of your waist. “Is it too much?”

You shook your head immediately. “No. It feels nice.”

Lilia’s lips curved again, her voice lowering. “You’re very obedient, anima mia. I like that.”

You felt her fingers brush your side, trailing upward just beneath your shawl, ghosting along your ribs.

“I—I don’t usually let people touch me this fast,” you whispered.

“I know.” Her palm pressed gently to your back, pulling you closer. “But I’m not people. I’m me. And you came here for a reason. Your body knew it before your mind did.”

You felt your breath catch again. “I didn’t know I’d be doing… this.”

She leaned down, lips grazing your ear.

“You didn’t know you’d crave someone telling you what to do?”

Her hand slid up your spine, not rough—just firm enough to make your knees buckle a little.

You exhaled slowly, trembling slightly. “Maybe I… maybe I needed it.”

She pulled back enough to see your face, her dark eyes scanning you, drinking in every detail.

“You did need it,” she whispered. “And you’re going to thank yourself for listening.”

Before you could respond, her fingers came up to unclip your shawl. It slipped from your shoulders with ease, pooling at your elbows. You didn’t stop her. You didn’t want to.

Your eyes met hers, searching, waiting.

“I want to kiss you,” you said, voice quiet but full of want. “Can I?”

Lilia’s expression softened, but her control didn’t slip for a second.

“You may,” she said simply. “But let me show you how to do it properly.”

She cupped your face in both hands, tilting your head just the way she wanted it. Her thumbs brushed your cheeks, her lips close enough to make your heart hammer against your ribs.

“You’re going to let me lead,” she murmured. “You just follow. Understand?”

You nodded.

“Say it.”

“I understand,” you whispered. “Please… show me.”

Lilia’s lips met yours, slow and sure, and it was everything you’d hoped for—warm, soft, but with that hint of dominance behind it, like she was claiming the kiss, claiming you. Her hands didn’t shake. She kissed you like she already knew every sound you’d make, every shiver she’d draw out of your skin.

You whimpered into her mouth, your fingers curling into the fabric of her blouse. She didn’t pull back—she deepened it, her tongue teasing the seam of your lips, coaxing you open.

You let her in.

You let her have you.

When she finally pulled back, your lips were swollen, your breath coming quick.

“Such a good girl,” she whispered against your mouth. “So eager to please.”

You blushed hard, biting your lip, but your eyes stayed locked on hers. “I want to keep being good for you.”

Her hand trailed down your arm, fingers slipping between yours.

“You will,” she said. “But slowly. I want to take my time.”

You shivered again, a little moan escaping your throat.

She smiled. “Take off your shawl for me.”

You obeyed without question, sliding it down your arms and folding it neatly on the counter behind you. When you turned back, her eyes flicked to your collarbone, then lower, lingering on your chest with quiet appreciation.

“Now come here,” she said, sitting down on the edge of a velvet bench near the kitchen wall, patting her lap.

You hesitated, heartbeat loud in your ears.

“…On your lap?”

She nodded once. “I want to hold you. Come now, don’t make me ask again.”

You stepped forward and carefully climbed onto her lap, straddling her thighs. Her hands came up instantly, one resting on your waist, the other on the small of your back.

“You’re trembling,” she whispered, pressing a soft kiss beneath your jaw.

“I’m nervous,” you admitted, your fingers gently gripping her shoulders. “But not scared. Just… full.”

“Full of what, tesoro mio?”

You took a moment before answering. “Want.”

She chuckled against your throat. “Good. Let it build.”

Her lips trailed lower, kisses moving along the curve of your neck, slow and warm, like she wanted to savor the taste of your skin. You whimpered again, hips shifting slightly against her lap.

Her grip tightened just a little.

“Ah ah,” she murmured. “You don’t move unless I tell you to.”

You stilled immediately. “Sorry.”

She smiled against your skin. “Don’t apologize for needing me. That’s the sweetest part of you.”

You rested your forehead against hers, eyes fluttering shut. “I want to be yours.”

“You are mine,” she whispered, one hand sliding up to the buttons of your blouse. “But I’ll take my time proving it.”

Her fingers danced along the buttons of your blouse, slow and patient, like she was unwrapping a gift she already owned. Each button undone was followed by a pause, a brush of her fingertips, the warm press of her lips somewhere along your collarbone. You could feel the heat in your cheeks, the way your body trembled under every touch—even the air between you felt like it was humming.

“You’re soft everywhere,” she murmured, lips brushing just above your heart. “You were meant to be handled gently.”

Your breath hitched as she slid the blouse from your shoulders, her palms dragging along your arms with reverence. You felt exposed—not just physically, but emotionally. Like she could see through you.

“I…” you began, but the words caught in your throat. “I’ve never felt like this before.”

Lilia’s eyes lifted, meeting yours, warm and unshakable. “I know, tesoro. You’ve never had someone take their time with you. You’ve always rushed to please or been too afraid to ask for what you want.”

You nodded, your chest tightening. “It’s like you’re in my head.”

“I’m in your heart,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to the center of your chest. “And your body is just learning how to listen.”

You let out a soft whimper, your arms tightening around her neck, needing to hold on to something solid. She was grounding you, yet unraveling you at the same time.

“I feel like I’m going to fall apart,” you breathed.

She chuckled low, her hands now skimming your sides, thumbs brushing beneath the hem of your top. “Then fall. I’ll catch every piece.”

With a slow, smooth motion, she lifted your top over your head. Your skin prickled at the sudden exposure, and your breath came faster. You’d never let anyone see you like this—not this vulnerable, this bare, this desperate to be wanted.

But Lilia didn’t stare like others might. She didn’t gawk or grope or lose herself. She devoured you with her eyes. Like you were sacred. Like her hands were the only ones meant to touch you.

“You’re beautiful,” she said, voice a velvet purr.

Your lips trembled. “You make me feel like I am.”

Her hands reached behind your back, unhooking your bra with expert ease. You gasped at the sudden freedom, and her touch softened immediately.

“Shh,” she cooed. “We go slow, remember?”

You nodded, heart racing.

“Say it,” she whispered, pressing a kiss between your breasts. “Say you’ll be slow for me.”

“I’ll be slow,” you breathed. “For you. Only for you.”

She rewarded you with a soft, sucking kiss on your left breast, her lips closing around the sensitive skin, her tongue brushing your nipple.

You cried out—soft, overwhelmed. You weren’t used to being touched like this, worshiped like this.

Her mouth moved gently, tongue flicking, lips pressing open kisses that made your hips shift without permission.

You couldn’t stop the sound that came next—a whimper, almost a sob. Your hands gripped her shoulders like you’d float away otherwise.

“You’re so sensitive,” she whispered, trailing kisses to your other breast. “That’s good. I want your body to wake up for me.”

“It’s already… awake,” you managed to say between gasps.

“Mmm.” Her mouth wrapped around your other nipple, and you nearly cried from the heat of it. “You’ve barely started.”

She teased and toyed with you until you were a writhing mess in her lap, your breath coming out in soft, choked sounds, your thighs beginning to tremble from how still you were forcing yourself to be.

“I want to move,” you gasped. “Please…”

She looked up at you from your chest, eyes glowing with that same dark affection.

“Then ask.”

You whimpered, your voice barely a whisper. “Lilia… please let me move.”

“Where, tesoro?” she teased, her hands drifting down to your hips. “Tell me exactly what you want.”

You blushed hard, eyes fluttering. “I want to… grind on you. Please. I need to feel something. I need to feel you.”

Lilia smiled, pleased beyond words. “You’re learning.”

She shifted her legs beneath you, settling you more firmly in her lap, her hands gripping your hips now with firmer pressure.

“Go on,” she said. “Show me how needy you are.”

You moved slowly at first, unsure—rubbing against the firmness of her thigh, your clothed core dragging over the seam of your panties. The friction made you whine, head tipping back.

“That’s it,” Lilia purred. “Just like that. Let me see how good I make you feel.”

You moved again, this time a little faster, unable to stop the way your breath stuttered, your body shaking. It was too much and not enough, and you needed more. You needed her.

Her hands slid down, gripping your thighs, guiding your rhythm, making sure you didn’t go too fast, didn’t rush your pleasure.

“You’re soaking through these,” she murmured, dragging her fingers along the inside of your skirt. “All for me.”

“Only for you,” you whimpered, tears pricking the corners of your eyes.

She pulled your skirt up then, her fingers brushing against your panties, and you gasped at the contact.

“You’re going to come like this,” she whispered. “Just from grinding on me. Just from being seen.”

Your eyes fluttered. “Lilia—please—”

“Let go, my good girl. Come for me.”

And you did.

Right there in her lap, clothed but undone, body trembling as the heat inside you snapped. You cried out her name, clinging to her as waves of pleasure rolled through you—soft, aching, perfect.

She held you through it, lips brushing your temple, fingers stroking your back.

“You did so well,” she whispered. “So good for me.”

You collapsed against her, still shaking, your heart pounding.

“I want more,” you said softly. “Please. I don’t want to stop.”

Lilia smiled against your skin. “Then we won’t.”

She stood, lifting you easily in her arms.

“You’ll spend the night here, tesoro,” she murmured, carrying you out of the kitchen and down the hallway, the candlelight guiding your way. “And I’ll make sure you don’t wake up innocent ever again.”

The air was thick with the heat between you, your body still flushed from your release, skin tingling from the aftershocks. Lilia had carried you from the kitchen with her arms wrapped snug around you, as if you weighed nothing at all. Her strength only added to the ache pulsing through your core—the way she moved with such ease, like she was built to handle you. And the way she looked at you…

God.

You were in only your underwear now. Your bra lay somewhere by the table—discarded, forgotten. Your shirt and skirt had been cast aside in the heat of her touch. She hadn’t even taken off her jewelry yet, which was somehow worse. Every time her hands brushed against you, her rings scraped your skin, cool and solid—a contrast to the way she made your whole body burn.

She placed you down on a soft chaise in the back room, the lighting dim, the candles flickering on old wooden shelves around you. The air smelled like lavender and something deeper—like smoke and honey.

Lilia stood in front of you, finally removing her rings one by one, placing each carefully in a small velvet dish. Her fingers, though bare now, moved with intention, as if she was still planning something. You sat on the edge of the seat, arms crossed tightly over your chest, trying not to look too shaken.

But you were trembling. Embarrassed. Excited. Entirely at her mercy.

Then, from the pile of your clothes… a shrill ringtone broke the quiet.

You jumped.

Lilia didn’t flinch. She turned slightly, her head tilting as if amused by the sudden noise. “Someone’s calling you.”

You blinked, scrambling toward your purse. Your fingers fumbled with the zipper before you pulled the phone free, the screen lighting up with a name that made your stomach twist.

Rio.

Your best friend.

Oh, God.

Lilia chuckled softly behind you. “Answer it,” she said, voice like silk and smoke. “It could be important.”

“I—I can’t—” You turned slightly to look at her, clutching the phone in one hand, the other still covering your chest. “I’m literally in my underwear right now.”

Lilia smirked, stepping closer. “You think I haven’t noticed?”

She moved behind you, her hands resting on your bare shoulders. “Answer it, tesoro. Be good.”

Your thumb hesitated. Then, with a shaky breath, you pressed the green button and brought the phone to your ear.

“H-Hey Rio.”

“Hey, sweetheart.” Rio’s voice was soft, and totally unaware of the state you were in. “I was just calling to check in. You disappeared on me this morning. Everything okay?”

You swallowed hard. “Yeah, yeah I’m… I’m fine. Just, uh, doing something different today.”

Lilia’s fingers drifted down your arms, slowly dragging goosebumps in their wake. You squirmed where you sat, trying not to make a sound. She leaned forward, her lips brushing your ear.

“Such a good girl,” she whispered. “Answering your friend while I have you like this.”

You turned your face away, heat rising into your ears.

Rio kept talking, totally oblivious. “Did you end up going to that weird psychic shop? I passed it on my way to the café. The sign was glowing like crazy.”

You cleared your throat. “Y-Yeah. That’s where I am right now.”

Lilia grinned against your neck and began trailing kisses down your spine, her hands sliding to your waist. You tightened your grip on the phone, desperate to stay focused.

“Ooh, brave,” Rio laughed. “You always said you were curious but too scared to go in. Is it cool inside?”

Lilia’s fingers dipped below the waistband of your underwear, just enough to make your hips twitch.

“U-Uh huh,” you squeaked. “Very cool. Definitely… a unique vibe.”

Rio chuckled. “Is that code for spooky as hell?”

You swallowed hard again. “N-No, just… kind of intense.”

Lilia bit your shoulder gently—just enough to make you gasp.

Rio paused. “You okay?”

You were sure your heart had stopped. “Y-Yeah! I’m fine. Just a… bug. On me. Sorry.”

Lilia’s hands were now kneading your thighs, spreading them slowly as she knelt between your legs. She looked up at you with dark, hungry eyes, licking her lips as if to say keep going. Her hands never left your skin.

Rio kept chatting, oblivious. “So hey, I was wondering if you wanted to hang out later? Maybe grab coffee?”

Lilia’s fingers brushed against your clothed core, and you had to physically bite your lip to stop the moan crawling up your throat.

“I—I don’t know,” you managed. “I might be… tied up today.”

Lilia let out a soft, wicked laugh against your stomach. You smacked her lightly on the shoulder with your free hand, but she only grinned wider.

“Oh, tied up?” Rio teased. “Sounds mysterious. Who is she?”

Your mouth fell open, stunned into silence.

“What?!” you squeaked.

“I’m kidding!” Rio laughed. “But now I am curious.”

Lilia’s mouth pressed softly against your lower belly, just above the waistband of your underwear, her fingers teasing the edge again.

You were dying.

“Y-You’re ridiculous,” you said into the phone, your voice breathless.

“You’re being weird,” Rio replied. “You sound like you’re out of breath.”

“I’m just… walking,” you lied.

“In a psychic shop?”

You paused. “It’s a very interactive… experience.”

Lilia slid your panties down slowly, her hands careful, eyes never leaving yours. You covered your mouth with one hand, the phone still pressed to your ear, trying to hold in the desperate noise threatening to escape your lips.

She leaned in, and before you could process what was happening, her mouth was on you.

You nearly dropped the phone.

Your legs tensed, your toes curled, and your breath hitched hard.

“You okay over there?” Rio asked, voice distant through the ringing in your ears.

“Mhm,” you squeaked. “Just… processing everything.”

Lilia’s tongue was soft at first, teasing, tasting. You couldn’t stop the way your hips jerked slightly, your free hand clenching into the cushion beneath you.

“She’s going to ruin you,” you thought.

She was already doing it.

Rio droned on, completely unaware of the absolute chaos happening on your end. “Well, if you’re free later, let me know. I’ll be around ‘til like six. After that, I’ve got a date.”

“A d-date?” you stuttered, your voice cracking as Lilia pressed her tongue harder, her hands pinning your thighs open.

“Yup. Cute bookstore girl. Wish me luck.”

“Good luck,” you gasped, breath shaking. “Hope you… find what you’re looking for.”

“Oh, I think I will. Anyway, text me later?”

“I will,” you croaked. “Bye, Rio.”

“Bye!”

You ended the call and immediately dropped the phone beside you.

“Lilia,” you moaned, both hands flying to her hair now, tangling in her curls. “What—You’re evil.”

She hummed against you, the vibration sending another wave of heat through your core. She didn’t stop. If anything, your helplessness just made her hungrier.

“You answered her,” she said softly. “You were such a good girl.”

Your hips rolled instinctively, grinding into her mouth, unable to stop yourself now. The room spun with how fast your heart was beating.

She was relentless.

Slow, then fast. Gentle, then firm. Her fingers spread you open as her tongue circled your most sensitive spot, never losing rhythm. Your body burned, your thighs shaking uncontrollably.

“Lilia, I—Oh my god—”

She looked up, lips slick, and smirked. “Yes, baby?”

“I’m gonna—Lilia, I—please—”

“Let go.”

You fell apart in her hands, body arching off the seat, her name torn from your lips like a prayer. You saw stars behind your eyes, the world blanking out for a few blissful moments.

When you finally came down, your limbs were jelly. Your body slumped into the cushions, chest heaving.

Lilia rose, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, her expression far too smug.

“You’re so easy to tease,” she said sweetly, leaning down to kiss your lips.

You tasted yourself on her tongue.

“Don’t worry,” she whispered. “I’m not nearly done with you yet.”

And something told you she meant it.

#patti lupone #lilia calderu #smut #lesbian #fanfic #lilia calderu x reader

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