Thirteen Times The Charm

30. Disaster gay.

[end0r4]

PATTI LUPONE behind the scenes of Agatha All Along (2024)

[thirteentimes]

So… how long is too long for a one shot about Lilia x reader? You know… just asking for a friend.

[rippersz]

𝙏𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙚𝙨

☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

(Lilia Calderu x Fem!Reader) (NSFW; Thigh-riding; Titles) (~4.7k words)

☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

“I think this is my favouritest place in the entire universe,” you admitted softly, your words slurred and muffled against the sweet-smelling skin of your lover’s neck. 

“I thought your favourite place was your bed,” she huffed, lips twisted into a smirk. 

“It is. But this is my most favouritest.” You moved your head, pushed your nose further beneath the curve of her jaw, and nuzzled closer into the corner of her shoulder and neck with a dizzy blissful smile. 

The urge to sigh took over quickly and as you breathed deep, utterly content with your soft witchy pillow, the mixed smells of wildflowers, bourbon, jasmine, and gardenia filled your lungs. It was the most comforting combination, full of happy memories, a reminder of home, a staple of your Lilia, and when you breathed out, you caught the notes of the lemon shampoo clinging to her damp curls. Which, as beautiful as they were, were still incredibly unruly and slow to dry after a relaxing shower. They tickled your nose and chin, drawing damp streaks of water, and you reached up to tuck them away behind Lilia’s neck. 

“Quit it,” she nudged you gently, shifting you on her hip. 

“I’m not doing anything, your hair is getting in my way.” 

“Oh now she blames the hair,” your lover drawled, “What next? Is my lap not comfortable enough for you?” 

“It is. And it would be even more comfortable if you weren’t reading that stupid book.” 

She knew you weren’t being serious–you loved when Lilia got a moment to calm down and read peacefully–but she’d had her nose buried between the pages of the damn thing since the moment you settled. It was about flowers and sigils and ancient forms of casting and other things you didn’t care to remember because you were snuggled up on the right side of Lilia Calderu’s body and you would not move even if the Divine Mother herself had begged you to do so. She was simply too comfortable, simply too soft, simply too perfect. Braless, relaxed, matching your rare choice of pyjamas for the evening: Underwear and a T-shirt, the latter having been stolen from Lilia’s closet even though you had your own. It was flimsy, old, thin, and also the best thing you had ever worn as you’d straddled her thigh, wrapped your arms around her waist, and happily realised that you could still feel each warm part of her body through the two layers of cloth. 

That alone was a feat you had to accomplish together once upon a time—getting out of your comfort zones. It took a while before you were secure enough to open yourselves up intimately, to even think of getting undressed in the same room, to even kiss without skirting around each other first. You had your fair share of insecurities, but Lilia was a different story. She’d lived a life unlike any other, being a fugitive witch, skilled in divination, who travelled the waves of time as a skipping rock rather than a sailboat. Her upbringing wasn’t very liberal, much less accepting of homosexuals, and though she managed to get through life regardless, her preoccupied on-the-run mind steered her away from debauchery. All in all, that meant sex and intimacy simply was not as important to Ms. Lilia Calderu as it was to most of the population. She still felt the urge of course, she was a woman with such needs, but there was no time to desire a physical outlet - no time and no energy and no candidates. There was one girl in her youth, part of her original coven, and maybe a few flings in her mid-200’s, even something a little more long lasting toward the end of her 300’s, but the itch was never so persistent. It didn’t wait in the back of her head or lurk around right before going to bed, and it never came up in her thoughts when out in public. She was an adult woman with too many things to think about, focus on, and consider. She didn’t have time for desire. She didn’t have time to want.

And then you walked into her little shop on a rainy humid Wednesday afternoon, fuzzy-haired and wild-eyed, and the sight of you sent her careening into the future. She returned quickly, with an awed look, serious eyes, and the soft murmur of “The Wheel of Fortune”, and only after some time passed did you both realise that yes, change for the better was indeed in the cards. 

And Lilia found herself wanting that day. 

Then most of the days after it. 

For about three years, that was her normal. The sudden uproar of desire, not incredibly strong (for her subconscious would not let it get that far) but definitely noticeable. She found herself thinking about you often, about your skin, your hair, your hands, your fingertips, your legs, your smile. She found herself wanting to touch. To reach. To caress and to kiss and to bite. Once the two of you recognised your attraction, you quickly agreed that anything sexual or intimate would be postponed. It simply had to come at a time in which you were both ready, open, and uninhibited. And if it took a while, then it took a while.  

It took only two years, after which you finally gave yourself to Lilia and she gave herself to you. It was all very romantic; a dark evening, slow and desperate, wet and hot, quiet and needy. Completely unforgettable. It opened a gateway of sorts, a chance for you both to expand and explore, and after a lifetime of not being able to embrace sexual liberation, Lilia was finally given the opportunity. You encouraged her as best you could without overstepping boundaries, always willing to try what she wanted to try (even though she often found herself on the receiving end of your innovative thoughts instead of the other way around but nevertheless), always eager to do the necessary research if that’s what your time together required, never a complaint on your tongue whenever she admitted she wasn’t in the mood. No corners were ever cut when it came to the desire you had for your lover. 

Except when it came to book corners. Those were cut instantly. 

“What would you rather have me do, hm? Movie marathon? Bake a cake? Swim my way to Egypt? This is how I relax, now deal with it or get off,” Lilia snarked, moving her hand from the cover of her book down to your thigh to give you a small pinch. She was too quick for you to jump away. 

“Owch! Mean!” You flinched from the sting, dislodging yourself from your comfy drape over her shoulder to fix her with a playful glare. 

Lilia didn’t hesitate to meet you head on, taking her eyes away from her book to look up at you through dark lashes, right over the rims of her glasses. Glasses that she only wore when alone, when with you, with a little chain that held them in the place, with a shape that complimented her face so perfectly. They made her seem so… sophisticated. So… strict. A red candy-apple coloured body, slight cat eye details around the rims, and curved well enough to always be perched at a very specific angle on her nose at all times. You hated them. You really hated them. You wanted them gone. You wanted them away. You wanted them to stop being so tempting. She was already attractive enough - she didn’t need the fucking things setting your pants on fire every two seconds. And whether she knew about their effect or not, you weren’t sure, but it didn’t matter either way - her attention was excruciating, and to it you would never be immune. 

“Get rid of this book right now,” you started strong, straightening up in her lap with a haughty cross of your arms. 

“I’m busy with it,” she tightened her hold on her prized possession as if you were about to lunge forward and take it from her. 

“Yeah? Well I’m busy with you, so lose the book Calderu.” 

Her perfect lips pursed, displaying playful disdain, and you couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow - just to be bratty. You watched as she considered her options, as she glanced down at her book, then back at you, then back at her book. And when she looked up for the last time, you changed your tactics and shuffled closer, moving up from her thighs to the curve of her torso - right by her lower belly. You pressed yourself there, dropped your eyebrow, and gave her the sweetest eyes you could conjure. 

“I just want to cuddle, Lili. Is that too much to ask for?” You sighed, moved your hands, and placed them on top of the book. 

Without fail, as you’d hoped, Lilia conceded. She almost always did whenever you addressed her like that, being so unaccustomed to pet names and terms of endearment as she was. To hear it from your lips was a tantalising thing, a sign of worthiness and ongoing love, and you saved it for your more intimate moments - just to coax her into doing something you knew she wanted to do but was simply too stubborn to go through with. Like putting her book down and giving you all of her attention. 

“I guess not,” she grumbled a few seconds later, melting into your efforts, and you grinned as she moved to set her book down on the bedside table. 

“See?” You hummed as you reached forward to gently pull the glasses from her face, being careful to first slide the chain from around her neck. “I knew you’d come around.” They were placed next to the book a moment later and you didn’t even wait a passing second before you were pouncing into Lilia’s arms. 

Like an overexcited puppy, your body went squirming and pushing into your lover’s, wiggling playfully as you worked your arms around her waist. She accepted you happily, letting out a sigh and a big eye roll before you tucked your face into her shoulder again and finally let the stress of the day properly wash off of your body. As Lilia’s muscles relaxed, allowing herself to give into the comforting weight of your clinging, she placed her lips to your shoulder and gave it a small kiss. 

“You’re going soft on me,” you murmured into her ear, delighting in the low hum that rumbled from her chest. 

“That’s the point,” she whispered, lighthearted and gentle.

Lilia couldn’t see the smile that spread across your face, but it was most certainly all soppy, soft, and loving. Utterly gormless, completely bewitched. She had you wrapped around every one of her fingers, oh her delightfully nimble fingers, and you never wanted to be unravelled. Not when paradise existed in her arms, flashing itself behind your closed eyes as Lilia began rubbing your back and tracing mindless shapes through the fabric of your shirt. Circles, squares, stars, triangles, trapezoids, words and phrases, squiggles and lines, suns and moons. Eventually, her pattern changed and she began following the same familiar loops and curves you’d seen her do a million times. 

From the top of your left shoulder blade diagonally to the plush fold of your right hip. 

L

I

L

I

A

A pause.

From the top of your right shoulder blade diagonally to the curve of your left hip.

C

A

L

D

E

R

U

Jesus fucking Christ. 

Lilia retraced her writing with the lightest press of her fingernails, going back over the loops of her ‘L’, the hills and dips of each letter, until she reached the tail of her ‘u’ and lingered there. One second. Two seconds. Until your skin began to tingle, and then she started to draw little circles, going from small to big in a slow spiral, and your skin began to buzz. Her caresses made it sensitive, bringing it to life, forcing the expectant attentiveness only an eager body could have as you sat in her lap and started to squirm. The circles quickly faded into nothing before the pattern reset. Back up to your shoulder blade, again across her name. 

“L-Lilia,” you breathed, feeling your body grow hot beneath her attention. 

“What?” Came her whispered response, soft like satin against your ear as she closed her eyes and placed her chin on your shoulder. 

She didn’t seem to realise what she was doing. All the warmth that she spread through you, continuously, while her traces turned to touches and she started pressing her palms to your back. She felt so good and gentle, so caring and calm, and when you took a deep stuttering breath to try and grasp your bearings, to delay the inevitable downfall of desire, you were once again overcome by her scent. It blanketed your lungs, purred within your soul, and the wildflowers, bourbon, jasmine, gardenia, lemon, love… the smell of love… made you whine. It was just so Lilia. So nostalgic, gentle, light and intoxicating. 

She sparked a warmth—a stringy, viscous, thick warmth that settled in you. Like a pool in your abdomen, it burned and lapped. It called to her from the inside, reaching for the sweet kiss of her mouth, the gentle curl of her fingers, the way her tongue felt when it dragged along the inside of your thigh. You’d felt it before, yearned for it before, gone hours with and without the careful delicate heat Lilia always managed to coax from you. And it didn’t take much. It never did. All you needed was a thigh between your legs. Pressed up against a thin piece of cloth, the only thing separating your cunt from her skin. Hands on your back. Warm and grounding, the only thing keeping you from losing your mind. A mouth by your neck. Soft breaths fanning onto your shoulder, the only thing that broke your flimsy resolve.

“You’re making me horny.” It was blunt, soft, and said with such  tightness, you knew that it was obvious you were embarrassed.

You clenched your eyes shut. 

How pathetic was it, after all, to be incapable of lasting a few minutes on your lover’s lap, receiving all of her attention, without succumbing to an eager lust? How pathetic was it to be unable to focus when she felt so good beneath you? Was that how your mind worked? So one-tracked? Was that how your body worked? So easy and loose for Lilia Calderu? Like a slut?

Yes. Yes, exactly. 

You would do anything she asked of you. You’d be anything she wanted you to be. If Lilia woke up one morning and boldly decided that she always wanted you on top, that she wanted to stay in her pillow princess luxury and succumb to your tongue and hands until she couldn’t take it anymore, you’d do it. If Lilia decided that she never wanted you to touch her ever again, in history, and that she was the only one to harness any control in the bedroom, then you’d relinquish your own. If Lilia wanted you on a leash, if Lilia wanted you chained to a bed, if Lilia wanted you in a crate, on the floor, against a wall, against a table, against a ceiling, wearing nothing, wearing everything, wearing too much or too little, you wouldn’t stop her. You wouldn’t refute. Not because you couldn’t, but because you didn’t want to. She was a witch, a powerful witch, and a woman, a powerful woman, and the very second you looked into those neverending puppy dog eyes and saw the sadness and the strength, you were whipped. You were totally, absolutely hers. Lilia’s slut. No — Lilia’s girl. 

But even Lilia’s girl made mistakes sometimes. Even Lilia’s girl was, in certain moments, too greedy. And the moment the words were out of your mouth, your depraved confession, her touch stopped. 

It was excruciating. 

Your chest hit hers with every deep inhale you drew, growing deeper the longer you sat there, and it began to shudder as your heart crawled into your ears. She was so still, so rigid, that your mind descended into worry. Did you ruin it? Did you say the wrong thing? Should you have left it? Ignored it? Maybe she just wanted to cuddle. Maybe you should’ve kept it to yourself, tried controlling it better, and returned to it in the bathroom after she fell asleep. Maybe you screwed up the evening because you couldn’t cuddle with Lilia for one second without wanting to fuck her brains out. Maybe..

“Do you want me to stop?” 

You blinked. You didn’t really have a response. Of course the answer was God, no, but if Lilia wanted to stop, then you wouldn’t push her. You didn’t want her to feel obligated. 

Lilia breathed slowly through her nose, off put by your silence, and pressed her still hands harder into your back. 

“I- if-... if you want to,” you whispered quickly, terribly unsure with your wavering confidence but so desperate for her touch that you felt your mind grow hazy. Goodness, she was so close and she felt so warm. Your heart returned to your chest, eager to beat in sync with your lover’s as you felt her body slowly relax underneath you. 

She let out a steady breath, so quiet you could barely hear, and then shattered the peace a second later.

One of the lingering palms on your back shot up to your hair, wrapped a thick handful of it into the curl of a fist, and wrenched your head back. You squealed, eyes tearing up with the sudden sharp pain in your scalp, and your body went falling into Lilia’s other hand. She held you up with only a flex and kept you there, suspended, unable to move.

“Be assertive,” Lilia commanded, not even giving you a moment to recover. “Do you want me to stop?” Her whisper was gone, replaced with a quiet serious depth, and you shivered as you looked into her eyes. 

They were dark. Hypnotising. Swirling with chocolate desire, with the honour of love, and at the sight of her focus, her undivided attention, the knowledge that she knew — she knew you were dying for her – the flame in you soared into a blaze. It was a wicked sludgy sort of thing, intense and impulsive, and its hunger, its ache made you throb. Lilia’s hand twitched in your hair, feeling so much better the longer the sting settled, and the words were tumbling off of your tongue before you could catch them. 

“No, no please. Please don’t stop Lili…,” your chest heaved with breath, affected by the feverish way she handled you, and you could feel the sickening helplessness of your expression. Brows furrowed, eyes wide and glossy, lips licked and cheeks dark. Pure want for your lover. Pure desperation. 

“Please.” 

Lilia considered you, running her deep gaze over your face. She took in the look of you, the need, and you watched her perfect lips purse, her beautiful eyes narrow, her dark brows furrow - before she hummed, relaxed the hand holding your hair hostage, and went to cradle the back of your head. You let her do it all without worry, knowing she wouldn’t hurt you, and sighed with bliss as she put pressure behind her fingers and brought you forward. Your eyes closed as your body was returned to its previous position, propped up against her, forehead pressed to the curve of her shoulder. Your legs clenched at her gentleness, at the contrast of her touch, and you shuddered as you felt her thigh, thick and soft and heavenly, stop you from getting any friction. 

“Lilia-” you didn’t even know what you were going to say, if you were going to beg or if you were going to question or what you were going to do - but it didn’t matter. 

She cut you off like a knife through flesh as her hands moved to trail down your sides, from the swell of your breasts to the soft plush of your waist to the dip and bend of your hips. Her touch was sure, strong, certain, and your hands flailed to grip at the back of her shirt when she suddenly settled her fingers into the hinge of your thighs and slowly, slowly, pushed you back. Slightly, a few inches, enough to have your legs falling open, leaving you there for a quarter of a second……. and then forward, slowly, to erase the space she made, to close the distance, to drag your core along her thigh. Once. Twice. Until you got the memo and started moving with her, whimpering as the ache in your abdomen started to ebb and flow. 

Your forehead pressed further into her shoulder, lightly muffling the whimpers that dripped from your lips, and you moaned when she shifted herself forward to move her mouth up to your ear. It was velvet against your heated skin, teasing and sensitive, and Lilia took a soft breath in before she kissed the shell and whispered, quietly, like there were others in the room and she didn’t want any other soul on Earth to hear… 

“You look like a whore.”

Then she sped up the pace, grasping your hips with more strength, nearing the point of bruising, and began pushing and pulling with smooth, quick tugs. You couldn’t do anything but hold on and move with her, shifting your hips back and forth on her thigh, and shiver every time your clit caught the fabric of your underwear. Your body had no trouble reacting; throbbing for her, dripping for her, ruining your panties while you clutched at her back and eventually abandoned her shirt to run your hands up over her bare skin. She was smooth, perfect, she felt like a woman beneath your touch, a lover, and you squished your cheek into her shoulder as you moaned. Loud, desperate, and unashamed. 

“Lilia… oh god.” And she let out little pants for her efforts, lips parted and eyes hooded while she watched the way your hips moved for her, gliding with grace, slow like a dance, and the breaths quickly tumbled into soft groans as you shuffled closer and pressed your right knee up against her core. 

“You feel so good,” you turned your head to whisper hurriedly, raggedly, into her ear. “S-so good…” And Lilia shuddered, biting her lip to hold back a moan as you began lifting your hips every time you were dragged forward. 

Your sounds mixed so well, soft and loud and husky and whiny, twirling together in a lustful little symphony as your movements got faster and sloppier. And when your eyes fluttered closed and open in lazy blinks, you saw the tantalising skin of Lilia’s neck, shifting as she breathed, and you couldn’t resist. A strangled moan rumbled up from her throat at the feel of your tongue, wet and hot while you leaned in, closer, more, until your nose was also pressed to her neck and you could breathe her in. She tasted, smelled, felt like Lilia. Your Lilia. Sweet Lilia. Her head dipped as she pressed her nose to your neck, making you pant with desire at the closeness of her lips. You just needed them on you, painting you, opening up so she could be free to sink her teeth in and drink your life from your body if that’s what she wanted. 

“I love you,” she husked, her breath making her deep voice shaky, and you responded with a harder thrust of your hips against her thigh and an open-mouthed kiss against her throat. 

You were too far gone for words at that point, with her practically wrapped around you. Your mouth was open, your tongue was licking lazily, lolling like a dog’s, and your mind was fuzzy, dripping toward your cunt, only working to move you back and forth on your lover’s leg like a depraved little animal. A sickened beast. You couldn’t help it. Her thigh was the perfect surface, strong when she flexed, soft when she relaxed, thick and delicious, and shivers wracked your body as you followed the gestures of her hands. Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. A heavenly friction against your clit, leaving the desperate weep of your hole to ache. It felt neglected, throbbing for Lilia’s fingers, but riding her thigh felt so good and you didn’t want to get up, you didn’t want to stop, even when your panties began sticking to your skin. You didn’t want to stop, even when your head got so fuzzy, your belly got so warm, your body got so hot that your grinding started to slow. It was hard to keep the pace as you felt your muscles burn, but Lilia wasn’t having it. 

“A little longer,” she huffed, finally kissing your skin, melting you from the inside out with her soft lips. “Just a little.” 

You nodded, choking on a whine as you started up again and forced all your strength into your grinding. 

“Good girl,” Lilia hummed, pushing the hem of your shirt away from your neck with her chin so she could have more room to kiss. “Good girl…” 

“L- Lili-a- I’m… hngg… I wanna- mmmnnn….” Cum. You wanted to cum. You wanted to cum on Lilia’s thigh, you wanted her to help, to encourage, and you nearly fell apart instantly when her teeth started pressing lightly, gently, into your shoulder and her tongue began to swirl around your skin.

“Come on,” she moved her mouth to your ear. “Come on, baby,” her tone was soft, coaxing, and you could sense the tease in her words. 

But it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough. You were left on the burning edge, singing your fingers, whining to near tears in Lilia’s arms as you heaved, shuddered, whispered pleads and begs beneath your breath. The pool of desire only grew, glistening below you as you hung above, so close to falling, dangling by a thread, rutting your hips over and over like it would help. The friction was barely enough, pressing so deliciously against your swollen clit, but you were so wet that only the smallest thrusts, the littlest shifts, were all you could handle before the sensation slipped away. It was so frustrating, pulling a groan then a distressed whimper from your lips as your legs began to shake and your hands scratched at Lilia’s back. Not too hard, you didn’t want to hurt her, but the little red lines and the sting were enough to signal that you were having trouble. 

“Relax,” Lilia whispered, making you choke on a breathy whine. “Relax for me.” She spoke slowly, softly, and you breathed in deeply through your nose to calm your pounding heart. “Listen.”

You nodded and nuzzled into her shoulder, slowing the pace of your hips but pressing harder into her leg. It felt so good, so good, but not enough- not enough.

“You’re beautiful,” Lilia panted, making your thighs twitch, “My beautiful girl.” 

“Hmmpngg- Lilia- Lilia-,” you whimpered, letting out a little moan each time you moved. 

“I know. I know you need it,” she nodded, then pressed another kiss to your neck. “Can you let go for me?” Her voice was like warm honey drizzled over your bones and your skin. “Can you let go for Momma?” 

A thick, blinding bolt of heat flashed through your body, making you sweat and shiver against Lilia’s body. No no no- Momma’s body. You felt the desire bubbling, brimming, so close to falling into bliss that you could only close your eyes and go quiet.

“I know you can do it,” she spoke slowly, taking the reins back and using more force to speed up your thrusts. “Let go for me, sweetheart.” Her lips brushed your ear. “Be good and give in.” 

“M- Mo-” you were red-faced, vision blurred with tears, your lower lip quivering, and Lilia came to your rescue.

“Momma gives you permission.”

And just like that, saved by the same woman that tortured you, the thread was cut, the ledge crumbled, and you fell.

☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

BOO. - Rip x

☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

[confusedspaceotter]

Me in hell trying to make the best out of my situation :

[gilliandersons]

AGATHA ALL ALONG 1.04 "If I Can't Reach You / Let My Song Teach You"

[goldenautomaton]

one of the girlies in the agatha server said "do it for lilia" and i was possessed.

[yourbasicqueerie]

the way things I want her to do to me would actively have me burned at the stake back in her time

[dontsh0vethesun]

girl kisser aura is off the charts

[stevenrogered]

AGATHA ALL ALONG | 1x07, "Death's Hand in Mine"

[gilliandersons]

You think I'm batty, is that it? You look at me and you see some doddering old broad.

[hyperfixationsposting]

“enjoy the now, baby.”

“relax, baby,”

lilia calderu stop calling people baby im on my knees for you

[thestarlightforge]

If Lilia was so powerful in the 2 mins her powers were fully restored, she could manipulate gravity on the Witches’ Road just by flipping and correctly interpreting a Tarot. Can y’all imagine who she might’ve been.

[soniamultimess]

Things are pretty chaotic even when they're just playing cards 😂

[warningsine]

After meeting on the set of "Agatha All Along" we lived together while you prepped for your off-Broadway debut. What was my most annoying habit as your roommate? You didn't have any annoying habits. I didn't think so.

[end0r4]

« Your task is not to control, but to see. »

PATTI LUPONE as Lilia Calderu in Agatha All Along: Death's Hand in Mine (2024)

[milfandh0ney]

can I request a fic where you write the reader being in a relationship for years, waiting on her partner to live up to promises that never come and 😩 it be nice if her and Chessy were like friends with chemistry but ignored it, and maybe it gets to the point Chessy can't take watching the reader keep giving her all when she's been in love with her? (Happy ending please? Maybe loving smut if you feel like it?)

Unfinished

Pairing: Chessy x reader

Summary: you and Chessy always had the understanding that when it was the right time, you’d be together. When your long term partner gets a job across the country it changes everything

Warnings: maybe kinda sorta cheating

Notes: @staff please let me type in white again, I think my followers would appreciate me being able to edit my fics (not an excuse)(real)

The sharp smell of acetone wafts from the en-suite bathroom to your spot on Chessy’s bed. The 99¢ Teen People magazine you bought at the gas station checkout sits on your bent legs as you let your hair dangle off the long edge of the bed. Your eyes scan the pages of the Jesse McCartney interview and your eighth foot taps not to the sound of Chessy’s stereo but to some unknown anxious rhythm only your appendages can hear.

It’s extra difficult to swallow with your head upside down but you try anyway. “Chess,” you call over the music and the rush of blood to your head, “what color are you painting your nails? I’ll tell you what it says about you.”

Chessy looks up from her seat on the toilet lid, pausing coloring her toenails to give you her attention. “Mm,” she laughs. “What does,” she pauses to check the name at the bottom of the bottle, “‘Ripple Reflect’ blue say about me?”

She looks at you with such warmth your chest feels cold and tight. Blinking, you move your focus back to the magazine. “Blue means you seek inner peace and truth. You always think of others and what they need,” you read. “My very own Saint Chessy,” you tease.

Chessy finishes painting her last toe and with the basket of polishes under her arm, she joins you on her bed, flopping down on her stomach and dangling her feet off the other side. “What color do you want for yours?” The glass bottles clink together as she searches for your favorites. “What would ‘In Plane View’ say about you?”

You hum, turning to place your feet in your friend’s lap as she shakes the polish. “Green says I’m loyal and honest, always seeking acceptance because my reputation is important to me.” Bile rises in the back of your throat and you try not to think about why.

You flip the page before you can ruin your own night. “Ooh, fun questions to ask at a slumber party,” you wiggle your eyebrows at your best friend. “If you were floating on a rock in outer space, who would you want there with you?”

Chessy raises her head, “Well? Who would you pick?” She switches to your second foot, carefully painting your big toe.

“You, duh,” you roll your eyes affectionately. “Who else?”

Chessy snorts, not looking up. “Yeah? Not what’s-their-name? You finally break up?”

Your jaw clenches and your stomach twists uncomfortably. Maybe you shouldn’t have eaten that third Ring Pop. “We’ve been together ten years, I know you know their name, Chessy.” It’s not the first time you’ve had to scold her for refusing to say their name. The worst part, though, is that you didn’t even think about them before you answered.

“Actually,” you start hesitantly, “there’s something I need to talk to you about.” Chessy stops in the middle of painting your middle toe, twisting the brush back into the bottle. She waits patiently as you fiddle with a hangnail you found. “Riley got a job in Chicago.”

You hold your breath, hoping Chessy infers what she needs to so you don’t have to say it out loud. “That’s great news, hon!” She squeezes your knee. “You’re finally rid of that douchebag? How should we celebrate?”

Your eyes snap closed and your eyebrows knit together. “No, Chess. I’m going too.”

She snorts. “Yeah right. How many times have you two talked about moving out east and it doesn’t happen?” Chessy raises an eyebrow and crosses her arms. “When is this ‘move’ supposed to take place?”

Tears cloud your sight but you’re thankful you won’t have to see Chessy’s face when you tell her. “I gotta head to the airport in an hour,” you choke out. Your head drops back down and you stare up at the ceiling to blink away the moisture in your eyes.

“Tell me you’re joking,” she demands. When you don’t answer for a few seconds, Chessy laughs shakily in disbelief. “And you’re just telling me this now? You can’t do that.”

“I knew you’d try to talk me out of it.” Desperately you want to clutch Chessy’s hand and hear her tell you it’s all gonna be okay but you settle for grasping the sheets with white knuckles.

“Hell yeah I would—I am. You can’t move across the country with someone that treats you like a doormat. Not when we always said ‘someday’,” she pleads.

“Chessy,” your voice breaks. “Don’t make this any harder than it already is.”

Green eyes become cloudy and her cheeks get wet. “What if you didn’t go?” She wipes the wetness from her face and takes a shaky breath. “What if you stayed here with me and tomorrow I take you to the beach and—and I’ll make that cake you like and neither of us will have to be without the other?” Tears fill her eyes again and her words sound suspiciously close to begging you to stay, exactly what you were afraid of.

Behind your eyelids you can see all of it. Holding hands with Chessy along the shoreline while the wind whips your hair around wildly and she offers you her jacket so you don’t get cold. Her singing you happy birthday the day of, her voice as sweet as honey and as deep as molasses. You shake your head. “You know I can’t do that. I’m with Riley.” You aren’t sure who you’re trying to remind, you or her.

“What if you weren't?” Chessy’s hands slide up to your thighs as you sit up. “What if you were with me instead?”

The worm dangles on the hook in front of you but you know you’d never get to it before the line is reeled in. “I’ve been with him since I was fifteen, Chess,” you feel anger rise in your chest. “What do you want me to do here? Leave someone that’s been with me for a decade, someone that knows me in and out and hasn’t left?” You pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration and stand from the bed. “Chessy, I love you, and in another lifetime I’d want to peel your clementines for you and wash your hair, but I—I just can’t.”

You turn and scurry from her bedroom, your bare feet thumping softly on the wooden stairs. The tears fall freely from your eyes now and you wipe at them angrily with the bottom of your sleeve.

Chessy runs after you, finally catching you by the waist in the kitchen. She smooths your hair behind your ear and crouches slightly to be eye-level with you. “I know, I know, in another lifetime, but why can’t we make it this one, huh?” She gives you a watery smile. “They don’t deserve you and you know it. Why don’t you leave them for a chance to be happy?”

She makes it sound so easy when it isn’t. You deliberated over your choices for weeks, not able to fall asleep or think about anything else. “You only think you want me. If I stayed, you’d realize in a month you don’t want me and that I don’t deserve you.” You’d dreamt of it every night and you see it whenever your eyes close.

You move towards the door but Chessy steps in front of you to stop you. “What about me then?” She searches your eyes. “Do I deserve to be happy? All I want is you—,”

“Chessy—,”

She takes a step forward, her body flush against yours. “It’s supposed to be us in the end. I’m not letting you go without a fight.” Her hands cup your cheeks and she tilts your head slowly until your lips are touching and you don’t do anything to stop her, but you don’t kiss back.

Chessy moves to pull away but you hold onto the shirttails of her flannel and bring her back in. You’ve wanted this for too long to miss out on it, especially for what will be your last chance. She takes a step forward, pressing you into the kitchen island. You’re vaguely aware that your face is wet but you don’t know which of you is crying. You focus on the softness of her lips, the caress of her tongue, trying to imprint every last detail into your memory so it won’t fade.

She moans into your mouth and it hits you what you’re doing. Your hands gently slide up her torso and push on her chest. She clutches your hand to her skin as she stumbles backwards. “I can’t. I can’t. I have to go. I have to—,” you turn to grab your keys from the counter and slip on your sandals, not caring that your nail polish is not smudged. You walk out of the door as Chessy watches, stressfully threading her fingers in her hair.

-

The drive to the airport is silent besides the hum of the air conditioning. Absently you run your fingers over your bottom lip, remembering the pair that you can still feel there.

If only you had met Chessy before Riley, maybe everything would be different. If you had only met at the right time, she would be in the seat next to you and you’d be singing along to The Chicks without a care in the world. It’s purely hypothetical and it never happened, so how do you miss it?

The views of the trees and cars that pass by the windows whip by without you comprehending any of it. You try to tell yourself it’s for the best that you’re leaving. It’ll allow you to focus on your relationship without constantly asking yourself ‘what if’. You’ll love our east and Chessy will live way out west and maybe it’ll be out of sight, out of mind.

Light patters of rain fall onto the windshield but you barely notice. God, you wish you could launch yourself into space and take Chessy with you, floating on a rock together for the rest of time. You slam on the brakes and pull over because isn’t that what life is? Floating on a rock in space with the people you love?

All your memories of Chessy stitch themselves together in your mind to create a masterpiece but it’s incomplete.

-

Chessy slouches on the couch, sipping a beer and staring blankly at the black television screen. There was still daylight when she sat down and now the room is dark with the storm clouds shrouding the sun but she couldn’t care less.

A loud, thunderous noise floats through the empty halls of her home but she doesn’t pay it any attention. The pounding gets louder and more insistent until Chessy realizes it’s the front door. She gets up from the couch, tossing the empty glass bottle into the trash before flinging the door open.

You fling yourself into her arms like a leap of faith. You’ve always been afraid of change but you trust Chessy to catch you over everyone else. And she does. She grips you tightly to her chest, not caring that your wet hair drips onto her clothes and her floor.

“I thought you were going to Chicago,” she breathes into the crown of your head, not loosening her hold on you at all.

“I decided I’m going to California instead,” you lift your head to meet her eyes. “Someone told me there’s a girl out there with love in her eyes and flour in her hair.” You laugh under your breath as you wipe the powder from her head.

“I baked some cookies for when you came back home.” She holds your hand and leads you into the kitchen, not letting go until the next morning.

-

It’s a Sunday when you wake up, sun shining through the blinds coating the room in a golden glow. Lazily you work through your morning routine, brushing your teeth and moisturizing your face. There’s no rush because it’s spring and you hear her humming along to some records her father left her. When you make your way down the stairs, Chessy leans over the island and a peeled clementine waits for you beside her. Love is real and you haven’t thought about what’s-their-name in years.

x

[carnivorousflowers]

GWENDOLINE CHRISTIE as LARISSA WEEMS in WEDNESDAY (2022-)