#agathario fanfic

[cabinetofquriosities]

Starting on this IMMEDIATELY after finishing my Persephone fic.

Detective + Criminal AgathaRio AU has my heart 🔪🖤

[aperfectlylesbian]

Why it's always Agatha who's the painter in AU's or canon divergence fics? Couldn't Rio be too? Or would that be too out of her character?

[tragicallywicked]

new agathario fanfic

Because I could not stop for Death – She kindly stopped for me – The Carriage held but just Ourselves – And Immortality. OR The story of how Rio and Agatha met and became Nicholas' parents.

rating: M | words: 4,648 | chapters: 1/?

[d-z20]

The Ballad of Agatha Harkness Chapter 13

Summary: The time has come for Rio to face the music and tell Agatha who she really is.

Warnings: angst with a happy endning (they finally admit they love each other!!)

Words: 2.6k

A/N: This one is a little emotional but I promise there's a happy ending!!

AO3 link | Master List

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The Confession of Death

The air in the cottage hung heavy with stillness, the faint scent of smouldering wood lingering in the hearth. Moonlight filtered through the small window, casting silver streaks across Agatha’s face as she slept. Curled beneath the patchwork quilt, her chest rose and fell in an unhurried rhythm, her usually sharp features softened by the veil of sleep.

Rio stood by the doorway, leaning against the frame with an expression that no one—least of all herself—would have expected. Her usual sardonic grin was nowhere to be found. Instead, her dark eyes traced every line of Agatha’s face, their depths filled with something dangerously close to reverence. Her fingers tightened around the edge of her cloak, knuckles whitening. She had faced countless battles, countless endings, and yet none of them terrified her the way this moment did.

“I long to tell you,” she whispered into the darkness, her voice barely audible over the crackle of the dying fire. “But what if you don’t want me anymore?”

The words felt foreign, almost laughable on her tongue, but the fear was real—too real. For someone who had spent lifetimes indifferent to human connections, the weight of this singular bond was crushing. She pushed off the doorway, pacing soundlessly across the room, her thoughts tangling with every step.

Rio knew that this couldn’t go on, this precarious balance of secrets and stolen moments. Agatha deserved to know the truth about her. But what if that truth shattered everything? What if, after all this time, the woman who looked at her with such fierce intensity, who teased and challenged her at every turn, suddenly saw her as something monstrous?

—

As dawn crept into the sky, Rio slipped out of the cottage, needing space to think. The air was crisp, the faint tang of dew settling on her skin as she wandered down the familiar path. Behind her, the cottage stood silent, a haven that now felt like it was closing in on her. She couldn’t stay—not with the weight of her truth pressing so heavily on her chest.

The nearby village was quiet, the world still heavy with sleep. Rio walked without direction, her feet carrying her over cobblestone and grass, her thoughts replaying moments she both cherished and feared. Agatha’s laughter echoed in her mind, sharp and unrestrained as they’d argued over the merits of wine versus mead. It wasn’t the memory itself that haunted her, but the realisation that every laugh, every quirk of Agatha’s lips, could be snuffed out the moment Rio revealed who she truly was.

Her pace slowed as her eyes turned toward the riverbank, the same place where so many of their shared memories had taken root. The dark water shimmered faintly, catching the pale light of the rising sun. She stopped, staring into its ripples as if they might hold an answer she was too afraid to voice. She could still hear Agatha’s voice from that day—teasing, coaxing her to step into the cold water despite her grumbled protests.

“I’m not getting in there,” Rio had said, crossing her arms as she leaned against a tree.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Agatha had shot back, her tone carrying that infuriating mix of mockery and affection. She’d waded in with all the confidence in the world, water swishing around her calves. “Come on, Rio, what’s the worst that could happen? You melt?”

Rio had eventually relented, her reluctance fading in the face of Agatha’s relentless enthusiasm. That day had been easy. Simple. Agatha had splashed her, her wild curls dripping water as she laughed like she hadn’t a care in the world. That laugh—that genuine, unguarded joy—had lodged itself deep in Rio’s chest. Even now, the memory of it tightened something inside her, an ache that was both sweet and unbearable.

Rio sank onto a fallen log near the river’s edge, elbows resting on her knees as she raked her fingers through her hair. She couldn’t go back to what she’d been before Agatha—distant, untouchable, a mere shadow of existence. For so long, she’d been nothing more than a name whispered in fear, a force that ended things but never began them. She’d always accepted it, even embraced it, because it was easier to be alone when no one wanted you anyway.

But Agatha wanted her.

It didn’t make sense—none of it did. Everyone else always hated her, reviled her, cursed her name as their final breaths left their bodies. But Agatha? No, she was different. When Rio walked into her life, her eyes didn’t fill with fear or anger. Instead, they lit up. Her smile widened, her voice softened, and her embrace felt like warmth Rio had long forgotten was possible.

And now, Rio had to destroy it.

Her hands clenched into fists, nails biting into her palms. She had always been the end of things—an inevitability no one could love. If she stayed, if she let herself believe in the fragile beauty of what they had, she would only taint it. And yet, the thought of leaving was unbearable, a hollowing out of something she didn’t know she had until Agatha had filled it.

Rio stared at the river, her reflection rippling across the surface, fragmented and distorted. Wasn’t that all she was? A distortion of life, a shadow in its wake? She had spent centuries perfecting the art of not caring. And now, in the face of Agatha’s laughter, her stubbornness, her maddeningly beautiful way of seeing the world... she cared too much.

The sun rose higher, its golden light casting long shadows over the still village. But Rio felt no warmth from it, only the cold certainty that she was on borrowed time.

She buried her face in her hands, the weight of her turmoil threatening to crush her. For the first time in lifetimes, she wanted to stay. But how could she, when staying would mean breaking the one thing that had ever truly made her feel alive?

—

By the time she returned to the cottage, dusk had fallen, painting the sky in shades of purple and gold. Agatha was waiting, her arms crossed as she leaned against the doorframe. Her eyes tracked Rio as she approached, sharp and knowing.

“You’ve been gone all day,” Agatha said evenly, though her tone hinted at the irritation she’d likely been nursing.

Rio offered a crooked grin, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Needed to stretch my legs. You know how restless I get.”

Agatha stepped aside to let her in, but her gaze lingered, studying Rio with a scrutiny that made her want to bolt. Instead, Rio busied herself with the hearth, stirring the fire back to life as though she could avoid the weight of Agatha’s attention.

“Rio,” Agatha said after a moment, her voice softer now, but no less direct. “What’s going on? Where do you disappear to??”

The question hung in the air, heavy and expectant. Rio laughed—too loud, too sharp—turning to face her. “What, can’t a girl have a brooding walk through the woods without being interrogated?”

Agatha’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t play coy with me. I’d prefer you just spit it out.”

Rio hesitated, the mask slipping for a brief moment. She opened her mouth, the confession bubbling at the back of her throat, but the words caught, stuck behind the lump of fear that threatened to choke her. “It’s nothing,” she said finally, her voice strained. “Just… things on my mind.”

—

Later that night, the fire burned low, and the shadows stretched long, flickering across the small cottage with a restless energy. Agatha was seated in her chair, a book balanced on her lap, though she hadn’t turned a page in several minutes. Her gaze shifted occasionally to Rio, who stood across the room, her back turned, seemingly lost in thought. The tension was palpable, the air thick with unspoken words.

Agatha finally broke the silence, her tone sharp but edged with concern. “Alright, enough of this. You’ve been acting strange all day, and frankly, I’m tired of the guessing games. If it has anything to do with where you disappear to so often, now’s the time to say it.”

Rio stiffened but didn’t turn around. Instead, she let out a short, humourless laugh, crossing her arms tightly across her chest. “What’s the point in asking questions you don’t want the answers to?” she replied, her voice low and guarded.

Agatha closed the book with a decisive snap, rising to her feet. “Stop deflecting, Rio,” she demanded, stepping closer. “Something’s eating at you. If you think I don’t notice, you’re more of a fool than I thought.”

Rio turned sharply, her eyes blazing. “You think you want to know, but you don’t, Agatha. Trust me.”

“Don’t tell me what I want,” Agatha shot back, her voice rising. “You’ve built walls so high you can barely see over them yourself! Why don’t you stop running and let me in for once?”

The argument escalated, both women’s voices ricocheting off the walls of the small room. Rio’s demeanour flipped between nonchalant, erratic, and painfully needy, her usual confidence unraveling.

“You think I’m just running?” Rio shouted, her voice cracking with the weight of her words. “Maybe I am! Maybe that’s all I’ve ever done because staying means watching everything you care about fall apart!” She spun away, her hands raking through her hair as if trying to ground herself.

Agatha’s gaze softened, but her determination remained firm. “You’re not running now, are you?” she said quietly. “So stop pretending like you don’t care. I see through it.”

Rio froze at that, her back still to Agatha. When she finally turned, her expression was a warzone—panic and defiance battling for dominance. Her lips quirked into a shaky smile, but her eyes betrayed her, shimmering with unshed tears.

“You wanted to know why I keep disappearing?” she said, her voice uneven, a thin layer of dark humour coating her words. “Well, darling, I’m out reaping souls. I’m not just a green witch, I’m the green witch. I’m Death, sweetheart. Surprised?”

Rio’s hands trembled, and she clasped them tightly behind her back, as if restraining herself from reaching out to Agatha. Her voice, usually dripping with sardonic humour, cracked at the edges. “I’ve seen it before, you know,” she added softly, her gaze dropping to the floor. “That moment when someone realises what I am. The way their face changes. Fear. Loathing. Sometimes they’re polite enough to pretend, but it’s always there, that flicker of revulsion. And I couldn’t bear to see it on your face. Not yours.” She blinked rapidly, swallowing hard.

The confession hung in the air like a storm cloud, the weight of it pressing down on the room. Rio’s eyes welled up, and her voice cracked as she continued. “And now you know. So go ahead, Agatha. Say it. Say you don’t want me here anymore.”

For a moment, Agatha didn’t speak. Her sharp features softened as she absorbed the words. Rio could almost see the thoughts racing behind her dark eyes, and it was torture—she’s going to send me away, she has to send me away.

Instead of horror, a slow smirk crept across Agatha’s lips, the edges of her mouth twitching as though she were holding back laughter. “You’re telling me I’m sleeping with Death?” she said finally, her tone wry. “Well, that explains why you’re so relentless.”

For a moment, Rio’s expression faltered, caught between disbelief and heartbreak. “You think this is funny?” she said, her voice rising in frustration. “This isn’t a joke, Agatha. I’m telling you to your face that I’m everything people fear—the shadow in the corner, the end they can’t escape. And you’re standing there smirking like it’s a fucking game!”

Rio turned away, gripping the edge of the mantle so tightly her knuckles turned white. “Remember the river? The way you laughed when I refused to step into the water, calling me a coward?” She huffed a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “I’m not afraid of water, Agatha. I was afraid of losing that moment, that laugh—of you seeing through me. For centuries, I’ve been everything people run from, and I didn’t want to ruin the one time I felt... alive.” Her voice cracked on the last word, and she tilted her head back, staring at the ceiling as if willing the tears to stay where they were. “I just wanted to stay in that moment with you.”

Agatha stepped closer, her voice losing its teasing lilt as she continued. “Do you really think I’d turn you away? I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I’m not paying attention. Like I’m something precious. How could I ever hate you for something you never chose? For something that makes you… you?” She reached out, brushing her fingers lightly against Rio’s hand, though Rio flinched at the touch. “You’ve never given me reason to fear you, Rio. Not once. If anything, I’m more terrified of the idea of losing you than I ever could be of who you are.”

“Stop it,” Rio said, her voice trembling. “Stop pretending. You’re just… you’re lying, or—” She faltered, her emotions spilling over. “Don’t mess with me, Agatha. I can’t cope with that.”

Agatha’s expression softened, though her voice remained steady. She reached out again, this time gripping Rio’s face firmly in her hands, forcing her to meet her gaze. “I want you, Rio,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. “I want you here. I want you to stay. I want you. All of you. Let me to see you as you have seen me: whole and unashamed.”

Rio’s shoulders sagged as if the weight of a thousand lifetimes had finally slipped free. She met Agatha’s gaze, searching for even a glimmer of doubt, but all she found was steadfast certainty. Her lips trembled as a tear escaped, tracing a path down her cheek. “I’ve spent so long convincing myself I didn’t need anyone,” she whispered. “But you... you make me wish I could stay. You make me want to be more than this.” She gestured at herself, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. “More than just an ending.”

Agatha reached up, cupping Rio’s face with both hands. “You’re not just an ending,” she said firmly. “You’re my beginning. My middle. And I’ll fight you on it if you say otherwise.”

The seriousness of her words broke something in Rio, and she could no longer hold back her tears. “But why?” she asked weakly, her voice raw with emotion. “Why do you want me?”

Agatha’s eyes shone with an intensity that made Rio’s knees nearly buckle. “Because I love you,” she said firmly, her voice carrying the weight of unshakable conviction. “I don’t care who you are. You are mine, and I love you,” she repeated, her voice breaking just slightly on the last word.

The intensity of the moment shattered the tension like glass. Rio surged forward, capturing Agatha’s lips in a kiss that was both a question and an answer. It was messy and desperate, their emotions spilling out in every movement. They clung to each other as if the world outside the walls of the cottage had ceased to exist.

When they finally broke apart, their foreheads resting together, Rio let out a shaky laugh. “You’re insane, you know that?”

Agatha smiled, her fingers brushing against Rio’s cheek. “And you love it.”

Rio laughed again, the sound lighter this time, filled with something that felt dangerously close to hope. She pulled back just enough to look into Agatha’s eyes, her voice soft but steady. “I love you, Agatha,” she said, the words carrying the weight of centuries’ worth of longing.

Agatha’s smile widened, her fingers lacing through Rio’s. “Good. Because you’re not getting rid of me now.”

Sub-Chapter (NSFW) >

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I told you there'd be a happy ending :)

[regardstosoulandromance]

not a sound on the city streets; just the beat of my heart

“I’m Agatha, by the way,” said the storybook lady with a smile that made Rio’s heart twist in a way not unpleasant, “This is my shop.”

Rio’s smile froze on her face, “Rio. Just call me Rio.” Of course the hot book store witch was the owner of Shop Around the Corner.

read chapter two of an agathario you’ve got mail au here on ao3

[cabinetofquriosities]

From Persephone, Part 1

Agatha x Rio || Warnings: Smut, abusive violence (parental abuse)

Leave a review on Ao3!

(Listen along while reading)

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—————————————————————

Agatha splashed water from a rinsing bowl into her face, washing the remnants of slumber from it. She jumped at the sound of her mother’s voice. Newly twenty and she was still completely under her thumb. She threw her dress on and ran downstairs.

The house was a cabin like the rest of Salem, but more opulent than the average one. Evanora’s coven had taken the village over after the villagers tried and failed to destroy them. The trials had just opened the door to a war the other colonizers lost.

She found her mother at the bottom, dressed in silken robes.

“I expect you to wake with the dawn,” her mother said with a look of exasperation.

“I tried, but we spent so long at the ritual in the woods last night…”

“I do not wish to hear your excuses, child. Your instructor has canceled for today, so I will have you practicing in the fields.”

“Mother-“

Evanora held up a finger, silencing her daughter.

“You shall practice until every flower in that field has bloomed,” she said, “You are the reason so many have wilted already. The selfishness of your very being knows no bounds. Even your magic takes for itself. It is time for you to learn how to fix your mistakes.”

Agatha willed away the unshed tears in her eyes. Her mother, for as long as she could remember, hated the way her magic worked. She called her a succubus, a leech on the world. As a young girl child, a witch tried to attack her mother in front of her. A seven year old Agatha leapt in front of her, trying to protect the only family she had. The blast of magic hit her, much to her mother’s horror.

However, instead of it killing her, Agatha’s body took hold of it. It gave her a feeling of euphoria, drawing a stream of power from the attacker. Her purple overtook the other woman’s teal, burning through the connection until it reached her. The woman shriveled and fell to the ground as a grey husk. Agatha smiled at the feeling before seeing what she had done. Her stomach dropped at the sight of the dead, shriveled witch. She turned to the mother she had just saved for comfort, but Evanora pushed her back, sending the small child falling to the dirt.

“Stay back, you monster,” she hissed.

Her mother had never looked at her the same way after that day. Evanora had deemed her as being inherently evil. Someone who needed to learn to repress her true nature for the sake of being acceptable.

Now, even as a grown woman, Evanora was forcing her to train with the express purpose of reversing the way her magic worked. Every time she tried to infuse life into anything, she ended up draining everything from it. She left dead flowers, plants, and animals in her wake.

She walked out into the fields of flowers her mother nourished with her magic. Her mother, while she couldn’t create life, was able to encourage it to health with her spells and enchantments. The village learned to go from fearing Evanora following the trials to loving her when she ensured the growth of abundant crops.

Her magic bridged the gap between magic and non magic, allowing both groups to coexist. People now respected and relied on healers, divination witches, and protection witches to survive in their colony. Evanora always made it clear to Agatha that her deadly magic could undo all of that good will.

Agatha desperately wanted to be good. She wanted to help the village rather than siphon it of all life. Everyone, even her fellow witches, were terrified of her. They respected her mother and coven, but always kept her at arm’s length. Some nights, she considered leaving altogether for the safety of everyone within. However, Evanora made it clear that it wasn’t an option. She needed the Harkness line to continue. Since she was never able to have another child, that only left Agatha.

Agatha knelt down, finding one of the dead flowers. She focused, a purple mist forming around it. She pictured it regaining color and life. The flower crumbled into dust while the healthy flowers around it wilted and died. She sighed and tried again. And again. and again. For hours, she felt her frustration building, her mother’s voice in her head.

She failed again and rage bubbled up. A plume of purple smoke bloomed and took all life within its radius. For twenty feet in each direction, there were the ashes of beauty that Agatha ruined. She fell to her knees, planting her hands on the lifeless dust and began sobbing. Her mother was right. All she was good for was destruction.

Behind her, she could hear one of the lifeless stems crack, snapping her out of her misery. She readied a ball of energy in case the sound was a threat. Rather than some belligerent man or wild animal, it was a woman. She wore a long, tight black dress. Her dark hair fell to her waist and her eyes were painted with wings that looked like the glittering, starry night.

“Hello,” the woman said, snapping her fingers.

The orb of magic in Agatha’s palm was extinguished. Agatha looked panicked, unsure of what to do in the presence of someone who didn’t fear her.

“Who are you?” Agatha asked, looking up at her, her knees still in the dirt.

“That was quite the display of power,” she said with a smile.

“You… are not afraid?” Agatha asked with a shaky voice.

“Why would I be afraid?” She asked.

“You must not be from here. I am-“

“Agatha Harkness. Daughter of Evanora Harkness, the leader of Salem’s coven. Your mother is known as the ‘life of Salem’ while you,” she reached down and cupped her chin, guiding her to stand, “Are known as ‘the Death of Salem’.”

Agatha’s face heated as it was touched by this stranger. She felt hypnotized, gazing into her eyes and put under her thrall.

“How did you know-“

“I like to know the most powerful witches wherever I go. It makes my job easier when one of them begins to interfere in my work,” she said, her annoyance showing in a snarl.

“Is my mother…?”

“In a way, yes. She is depriving the universe of one of its greatest witches. Of one who can maintain the balance of life and death,” she said, playing absentmindedly with Agatha’s hair, twirling a lock around her fingers.

“Who?” she asked, not able to believe the obvious answer.

“You, Agatha. Your power is being smothered when it should be allowed to grow.”

“My… What? No…” Agatha stepped back, looking confused and suspicious, “My power is not one that is useful or desirable.”

“Oh, I beg to differ,” the other woman said, “You gifts are enviable.”

“Look around you,” Agatha said, sweeping her hand to motion to the dead flowers surrounding them, “I kill everything I touch! My power is a burden. Not a gift.”

“It is simply misunderstood,” the woman said, reaching out and taking her hand in hers.

Agatha felt things that she was told never to feel for a woman. For anyone, really. Witches in her mother’s coven never married. They would deprive themselves to focus on the craft. Baby girls would be conjured through magic in their wombs, leading to men being irrelevant to the survival of their society.

Along with that was discouragement of relations with women as well, the act being seen as sullying the bonds of sisterhood. Whether it be Puritanical values or the coven’s strict beliefs, Agatha’s desire was something to be ashamed of. A blush rose in her cheeks as she looked down, trying to gather her senses.

“Scarlet suits you,” the woman said, cupping her burning cheek and rubbing her thumb over it.

“I-I am not… uh… Who are you?” Agatha sputtered out.

“Rio,” she said, her gaze traveling over every detail of her face, “The green witch.”

“W-What do you want from me, Rio?” she asked, finding herself leaning into her touch.

“Your power. Your presence,” Rio said, leaning in close enough for her breath to brush over Agatha’s lips, “Your companionship.”

Agatha’s heart was at a sprint within her chest. She was frozen where she stood, unsure of what to say. No one had ever wanted her.

“I… do not even know you. My coven… I cannot become anyone’s companion. Much less a woman’s,” Agatha said, trying to look away.

“Forget everyone else. What do you want?”

“What I want is irrelevant,” she said.

“Who told you that?”

“My mother,” she said without thinking, “Forgive me, I should not speak ill of her.”

“Why not?” Rio asked, “She does not seem like a pleasant woman.”

“She helps others…”

“She does not help you.”

“She tries to.”

“By berating you? By making you deny your purpose?”

“You do not know anything about our lives,” Agatha countered defensively.

“I know more than you think,” Rio said.

“Who do you think you are?!”

“Lady Death.”

Agatha’s blood ran cold. Her mouth gaped open as she realized that Rio was not just a green witch. She was THE green witch. The witch only spoken of in children’s bedrooms as part of cautionary tales told at bedtime. The keeper of the underworld and all of the souls within. The witch who existed long before humans came into being and would still exist long after they went extinct.

She lost all color in her face as she fell to her knees again. To speak out of turn to a higher witch was a huge transgression. To speak that way to a celestial being was unthinkable.

“Forgive me,” she said, hoping it would be enough to spare her, “I did not know.”

Rio reached down, taking her hand.

“Stand,” she ordered.

Agatha did as she was told, shaking in fear of what was about to happen. She was certain that whatever Lady Death had in store for her would make her mother’s punishments look like paradise.

“I understand. I insulted your mother and you defended her. However, loyalty is admirable, but misplaced. Someone who rejects you at every turn does not deserve your devotion.”

Agatha opened her mouth to argue, but found nothing to say in her mother’s defense. Perhaps Rio had a point.

“I will be back to visit you later. I am not giving up on you. I want to see you flourish,” Rio said, “In a way that fits who you are.”

Rio’s magic circled them. New plants and buds grew from beneath the ashes of the flowers. Verdant leaves and technicolor petals bloomed around them.

“Without letting the past plants die out, the new ones cannot grow. Your magic is a gift, Agatha. It allows nature to take its course.”

A purple flower grew from Rio’s palm. She held it out to Agatha, curtsying to her. Agatha smiled shyly as she took it from her.

“Until we meet again.”

Agatha found herself feeling lighter than she ever had. She playfully spun the flower between her fingers by the stem. She smelled it, the aroma matching Rio’s. She took care to tuck it away in her satchel before making her way into her house.

Once she was in her room, she took the flower back out, taking in its scent again. She thought back to the way Rio’s hand felt on her cheek. The way she looked at her was unlike anyone else. It was unbelievable to Agatha that Lady Death would endure her presence, much less curtsy to her.

For the next few weeks, Agatha would meet Rio at the edge of the fields. The fields went for miles and the other witch would appear at random places along the perimeter. Agatha would always feel a strange pull towards wherever Rio would be.

The two witches spent their time training. Rio would answer Agatha’s questions about spells and incantations while Agatha would answer questions about her day to day life. While Agatha was focused on knowledge and skill, Rio seemed more interested in getting to know Agatha as a person. At the end of each lesson, Agatha would leave with a flower that never wilted. A flower that smelt of Rio.

Agatha began learning how to control her siphoning abilities. She was able to drain half a tree before stopping herself. Even though it was not comparable to doing that with an attacking witch, it was a start. Agatha squealed and jumped up and down, never having taken pride in her own magic. Rio smiled more freely than Agatha had seen while watching the newer witch’s reaction. She handed her another flower bloomed from her hand.

“Good girl,” Rio said, the words making Agatha breathless for some reason.

“Thank you. For teaching me,” she said.

“It is my pleasure,” Rio said with a nod.

“I am not complaining, but why do you waste time every day on me?”

Rio cocked her head, looking completely stunned.

“I am not wasting anything. Agatha, I want to spend this time with you.”

Agatha took a shaky breath, her mind reeling as she found any excuse as to why Rio would want that.

“For my powers?” she asked.

“No,” Rio said with an air of offense, “Your powers are formidable, but I come here every day to be with you. Your distinct and wonderful spirit. In fact, your power is just a sign of something bigger.”

“What?” Agatha asked.

“This… it will sound mad, but I need for you to listen all of the way through,” Rio said, “I have walked this planet for eons with the knowledge that there was another half of me out there. It slipped from person to person, the power always the same. This same soul would never rest on the other side. It would be reborn with every death of its host. Just as I would catch up, it would escape me. The other hosts were either too afraid of the situation or would allow their own earthly personalities to hold them back. You, though. You are the home of this soul now. The soul of my other half. You are favorite form by far. You are intelligent, compassionate, strong, and devoted to those around you.”

“I-I am at a loss for words… Thank you. I am very fond of you as well. All of this seems so strange. What is my purpose in it?”

Rio took her hands in hers, holding them firmly.

“Every form of you had a chance to cross over, but it must be your choice.”

“Wait… do you mean… die?”

“No, no,” Rio said, “The opposite, actually. You have already died a million deaths throughout all of time. What you have the chance to do is to cross into the underworld as a ruler who keeps the balance, holding dominion over the dead. You will be reborn as an eternal being. I want you to be my queen.”

Agatha’s lips parted and her eyes were wide in shock. She could hardly process the fact that she was inextricably connected to Rio throughout time. She couldn’t even begin to broach the subject of marriage or queendom.

“I… do not know. Forgive me,” she said, shaking like a leaf.

Rio felt as if she had revealed too much too soon. She remembered getting so close with Agatha’s past selves only to have them panic and turn their backs on her. They had been the same soul, but molded by their environment and the experiences of their particular life. Celestial beings needed to work for their soulmates when those mates were trapped in the world of humans.

Rio’s sisters and brothers were engaged in the same struggle concerning their own fated loves. Adonis, the leader of human vanity and bodily health, had just lost the current version of his soulmate to a marriage to a man. He would need to wait until this vessel passed on and the soul migrated to another. Etheria, the essence of creativity and ruler of imagination, had lost her soulmate before she could even speak to her. The woman’s current life was ended when she was killed by a fever. Etheria now needed to find the new person the soul had reincarnated in and wait patiently.

Even if they found them, their soulmate would need to make the conscious choice to cross over to their kingdoms, often on another plane of existence where they would have an entirely new connection with humanity. They, in turn, would need to give up their humanity in order to become transcendent. That was a terrifying choice to make. It was so incomprehensible to mortal beings that it chased so many of them away.

Her siblings who had finally found and successfully wooed their partners had a wholeness and peace that Rio could only dream of. Each one had a soulmate whose power was the inverse of their own. Their magic complemented their partner’s in a way that struck a balance in their corner of the universe. The amount of time, effort, and pure chance it took each of them to find their loves felt cruel.

“Not to worry,” Rio said, “We have all the time in the world. Please do not worry.”

-Please don’t leave me. Not again- Rio thought.

She grew an orange and red flower in her hand and tucked it behind Agatha’s ear. Agatha was disoriented by the situation, but felt something undeniable when she looked into those dark eyes.

“I will see you again tomorrow,” Agatha promised.

She could see the visible relief in Rio’s form. As unbelievable as it all sounded, she knew what she was saying was the truth. A being this powerful would not show so much anxiety over the attention of a lowly human witch unless there was a reason like the one Rio had given.

Agatha also felt the unrelenting pull towards Rio. She had dreamt of those eyes since she was a girl. She had also dreamt of different lives. One as an artisan in Egypt. Another as a warrior in Greece. One in a nondescript savannah, living in a cave with some animal that had long since become extinct. She remembered resting beneath a leafless tree, her head resting on the belly of that animal, the two breathing in tandem before a shadow of a woman fell over her.

The woman appeared in each dream, but Agatha never remembered any distinguishing features apart from her eyes. As she woke each morning, the dream would sink into the back of her mind, fleeting as most dreams were.

Everything made more sense now that she connected the woman in front of her to the dreams that plagued her throughout her life. Regardless, it was not a clear choice for her. Even with her cruel mother and terrible reputation, giving away her place in this world was giving up everything she knew.

She squeezed Rio’s hand.

“Tomorrow when the first rays of daylight emerge. I will come and see you,” Agatha said.

Agatha leaned in, touching Rio’s face. It felt odd to be acting so familiar with her. She pressed her lips to her cheek, hoping it wasn’t too forward. Then again, the woman had more or less just proposed to her. Rio felt something come alive within her at the simple display of affection. She was more aware of her need for Agatha more than ever before.

Agatha took her time walking through the fields. She took in the smell of the flower, of Rio, as grass folded underfoot. She looked up at the sunset, wondering if she would ever have a better chance at happiness than this. In the distance, she noticed one of the younger girls from the coven sprinting through the fields toward her house. Her brow knit as she followed after, walking as the girl sped ahead.

Once Agatha made her way back, she saw the young girl standing next to her mother, looking pale and terrified. Agatha was used to the look of fear on the faces of others when she was near, but this was a different atmosphere altogether. The girl sprinted past her, running outside to return home.

Agatha looked up at her mother, unable to open her mouth to speak before a hand came down and slapped her hard enough to send her to the floor.

“How DARE you!” Evanora bellowed.

Her mother always had an edge to her appearance. Nothing about her looked welcoming or kind, but her anger transformed her into something absolutely terrifying. Her long grey hair was as wild as her eyes. Her fists were clenched by her sides, orbs of blue magic threatening to escape them.

“Mother, what did I do?!” Agatha whimpered.

“Oh, Agatha. You are many things, but you are not stupid. So, do not claim ignorance.”

“Of what? I do not understand!”

Evanora grabbed the flower from Agatha’s hand. She had forgotten to hide it away.

“All of those afternoons ‘training’ in the fields, you were just with some whore,” Evanora spat out.

Agatha’s heart stopped for a moment. How did she know? That little brat had seen them and told her.

“She was teaching me! I have been kept away from anyone who could help me learn how to use my power. Please, Mother! I speak the truth!” Agatha begged.

“USE YOUR POWER? You should be training to keep that power at bay! All it does is destroy. All YOU do is bring pain and suffering. I should have killed you the moment you left my body,” Evanora stated with a look of pure loathing.

Agatha’s eyes showed every emotion flooding through her. She was terrified and shattered all at once. However, she looked frozen to anyone who could see her, her face painting a portrait of pure devastation.

“Please Mother… I love you,” she managed to whisper out.

Evanora laughed bitterly before saying, “Evil like you could never know love.”

Agatha broke down crying, her face looking like that of her as a little girl. It was yet another instance of the familiar experience of being rejected by the one person who brought her into this world. However, this time was more brutal than those in the past.

“And the fact that you are out there gallivanting with some woman out there, perverting what is supposed to be sisterhood among our gender is laughable. You really think that anyone would love you once they see you for what you truly are?”

“I… I…”

“At a loss for words? Is your lying tongue now tied?”

Evanora took her by the hair and yanked her to her feet. Agatha screamed as she was roughly pulled up the stairs to her room. Her mother flung her down, raining more blows, even contributing a kick to Agatha as she was groaning in pain on the floor.

“You will never see that bitch again. Do you understand me, girl?”

Agatha wheezed for air, her entire body in pain.

“Yes, Mother,” she said, resigned.

“Good. You will stay in this room until I say you can leave.”

“N-no, please,” she whimpered, remembering times where she had been confined for months at a time, being intermittently starved and driven mad by the isolation.

“You should feel lucky that I cannot use my magic directly on you. You would not be breathing if I could. Here is your parting gift from your poor example of a lover,” she said.

Evanora crushed Rio’s flower and threw it on the floor. The destroyed bloom landed beside Agatha’s face, deformed but still alive. As the door closed, Agatha desperately tried to crawl towards it. She lost all hope as it locked and the enchantment surrounded the room. Anyone else could come and go as they pleased, but Agatha was trapped within its confines.

For several days, Agatha wasted away in her room. She was unable to leave for any reason. Her mother sent servants to bathe her once for “the wretched smell of my loathsome child”. She woke up to fewer and fewer books in her room, which were the only things keeping her sane. Her journals had not been found, but Agatha was too afraid of prying eyes to use them. She sat by the window, breathing in the scent of the undying flowers looking desperately for Rio. The aroma of those hidden gifts were her only comfort. As long as she stayed living, Rio had a chance of finding her. However, her hope waned as the days passed by.

Rio had been showing up at the edges of the fields for nearly three weeks. That first morning, she feared that Agatha had fled from her. She blamed herself for revealing too much too quickly. She found herself thinking of nothing but her as she spent her nights reaping souls.

Often, she would send fragments of herself to do the actual work of escorting souls to the underworld. One physical form could not be in so many places at once. She used magic and fractured herself into functional copies, all of them projections of the original. Regardless of this, she relieved some of them by personally attending to the dead to distract herself from the hole left in her life by Agatha.

As Death, Rio was accustomed to the rejection and hatred of others. No one enjoyed her presence. No one truly understood the need for an ending. Instead of seeing it as the culmination of the raw beauty and terror of life, the transformation into something pure, they saw it as annihilation. The hope that Agatha would see her differently slipped from her mind, leaving her numb.

After a long day of Evanora forcing Agatha to kneel on rice while reading from the coven’s writings, her mother instructed her to stand. Agatha cringed as she shakily rose to her feet, the dry rice embedded in her knees falling from small reddened indents. She was fed one meal that day which had been more than she had for the past six as well as being given a bath before her mother entered the room.

“Hand it back,” Evanora ordered, taking the books from her daughter.

She walked slowly around the perimeter of Agatha’s room as if searching for a weapon or a hidden familiar. Suddenly, she stopped short. Her eyes fell upon something red peeking out from beneath Agatha’s pillow.

Agatha’s heart dropped as she realized what she had found. Evanora ripped the pillow off to reveal a small pile of flowers. The same ones Agatha would hold to her chest and smell when she missed the outside world. The ones that held the scent of Lady Death.

Evanora scoffed, saying, “Are these enchanted? I know you could not have picked them since I have eyes on you every moment of every day. I assume SHE enchanted them since they are alive and not drained to dust.”

“Please…” Agatha practically squeaked out, her sorrow overwhelming her, “They are all I have…”

“All you have? You ungrateful brat. You have the Harkness title, but you continue to shame it with your malevolence and your foolish whims. You do not deserve sunlight. You do not deserve the spring breeze. You certainly do not deserve flowers.”

With that, flames sparked from Evanora’s palms. Fire engulfed the flowers, destroying them entirely. The ashes fell to the floor. Agatha ran her hand through them, mourning the final scrap of happiness she had.

Evanora then expanded her destruction in an explosion of magic with her as its epicenter. Though she fancied herself as not being emotion-driven, anger often took control. A tidal wave of magic swept across every field apart from her own, destroying the crops in their wake. Along with Agatha, the rest of Salem was now being starved.

Miles away, Rio felt a burning sensation rolling through her body. Something she had given life had just been destroyed. While this occasionally happened with vegetation she grew, this was something she had poured her heart into.

Agatha.

She needed to return to her. A plume of Green and black smoke surrounded her. She was transported to the doors of the Harkness estate. She could feel strong spells protecting it, but they balked under the power of Rio. She flicked her hand, causing the doors to splinter and explode. She was unsure if Agatha had destroyed the flowers herself or if someone else had. Her confusion was cleared up the moment she heart Evanora screaming at a sobbing Agatha who was begging her to just let her go. She had just assumed that Agatha had rejected her, not once considering she was being punished or even held against her will.

Rio saw red.

Evanora froze at the sound downstairs. She was about to open the door when she felt heat emanating from it. The door was set ablaze, falling away as a silhouette formed within the fire. A woman who was untouched by the inferno.

Agatha was standing again, backing up against the wall. She was terrified of dying before she could return to Rio, of being reborn in some unknown place where she couldn’t find her. Where Agatha wouldn’t remember her.

Then, she saw her. Rio was standing in the doorway wearing black silk that wrapped tightly around her body, starting in a hood over her head and ending just above the middle of her thighs. Her eyes were determined and deadly. Agatha had never been so happy to see someone so murderous.

“I missed you,” Rio said with a little wave of her fingers.

Agatha looked at her in awe, unable to respond in the middle of so much chaos. Evanora, on the other hand, had plenty to say. She whispered an incantation that extinguished the flames, the destruction left behind on the charred walls.

“GET OUT OF THIS HOUSE, YOU HEATHEN!” she bellowed.

Rio simply smirked, calmly saying, “Make. Me.”

Evanora let out a roar as she shot every bit of magic she had at the woman. Rio stumbled back a bit, but easily deflected it.

“My turn,” she said, blowing Evanora into the ceiling with a sweep of her hand, keeping her pinned.

“You will NOT TAKE HER!” Evanora yelled.

“Oh, hush,” Rio said, turning to Agatha.

She is walked over to her, taking Agatha’s hands in her own. She saw the bruises, the black eye, the signs of malnourishment. She kissed her knuckles before letting Evanora go, dropping her like a ragdoll on the floor.

“Temptress,” Evanora said, blood dripping from her lips as she sat herself up, “Harlot…”

“Do you,” Rio began, turning to face Evanora, “Have any clue who I am?”

“You are the scarlet woman who is foolish enough to scrape the bottom of the barrel with Agatha,” she spat.

Rio’s eyes flashed with fury.

“Agatha is more consequential than you will ever be, you peon,” Rio said slowly and calmly.

“You really are quite stupid,” she said with a laugh as she stood on shaky legs.

“Look at me, Evanora. Look closer and tell me who I am…” Rio said, stepping toward her.

Evanora rolled her eyes with a sardonic smile. That is, until the moonlight that filtered through the window hit the other woman’s face. The light revealed the face of death, a skull in place of skin. A grotesque, bony smile. She fell back against the wall, her eyes full of more fear than Agatha had ever seen her show.

“Lady Death…” she whispered, “Just take her. Agatha has not deserved to live since the day she was born. Take her to the underworld, to whatever hell awaits her. I shall not interfere.”

Rio knew that once this bitch died, she would ensure that her afterlife would be worse than whatever humans believed hell to be.

“So quick to relinquish your only child to such a horrible fate. You truly are a waste of breath. To have a child like her and treat her like a demon.”

She stepped closer to the cowering woman.

“Oh, nothing to say? No more cruel words to throw my way? Let me explain just how much you have erred in your ways. Agatha is the fated leader of the underworld, along with me. She is the keeper of the soul that is connected to mine.”

“What?” Evanora managed to say.

“Let me restate it in more direct terms. You, Evanora Harkness, have hurt, starved, and tortured my queen. For that, you will not pay with your life, but with your afterlife.”

“No… I did not know!” Evanora yelled, “You must be mistaken. Agatha is not a blessing, she is a deadly curse!”

“AND I AM DEATH. So, I would say that we are very well matched,” Rio said, her unhinged side coming out.

“You do not know her as I do,” Evanora said.

“I know her better than she knows herself. One thing you certainly do not know is your place.”

Knowing she was already doomed to eternal torment, Evanora allowed a bout of madness to take over.

“If you want her so badly, let me help shepherd her to the other side,” she hissed, firing her magic at a support beam. The beam fell directly onto Agatha, pinning her beneath. Rio lifted it off of her, her face the vision of panic and concern as Agatha screamed in pain. She rested a hand on her torso, feeling the cracked ribs and sensing the internal bleeding. She would not lose her. Not again.

Rio leaned down and opened the front of Agatha’s nightgown, tearing it down to her waist. Without regard for modesty, she pressed her lips to the bruising skin. She lightly kissed along the exposed flesh, healing everything she touched. Agatha’s ribs shifted back into place, the bleeding within her body stopped. Her eyes opened, taking in the sight of Rio kissing along her bare front. She went from being broken and dying to the surreal experience of being healed by the intimate affection of the woman who had filled every one of her thoughts.

Rio stood, offering her hand to Agatha. Agatha took it and was pulled up to stand. She looked from Rio to her mother. She no longer showed any love for the woman who had just tried to kill her. Agatha’s glare was as full of hate as Evanora’s.

Agatha wrapped purple chords of magic around her wrists, flinging her into the wall. Evanora threw every heavy object she could get a hold of, using her magic for send an armoire, a chair, a bed at her daughter. Agatha managed to break or magically deflect each one.

When Evanora was about to use her magic once again to take down another beam, Agatha made a fateful decision. She rapidly moved into the path of the cerulean beam of her mother’s magic. Evanora’s spiteful determination morphed into horror as violet stretched over it. Her energy, her life force was painfully pulled from every cell of her body.

Rio watched Agatha, thinking to herself that she could never look more beautiful than she did right now wrapped in a purple glow, consuming the life of someone else. Agatha’s fingers swirled, extracting more power with their movement. Tears streamed down her face as she released all of the pain her mother caused her throughout her life.

Unable and unwilling to stop, Agatha drained every drop. Evanora was left frozen, her mouth stretched open in a silent scream. Her grey form was so dry and lifeless that it fell in pieces to the floor. Agatha watched both in horror and satisfaction.

Rio could see the gears beginning to turn in Agatha’s mind and refused to allow her to blame herself. She took her face in her hands, wiping salty streaks of emotion from Agatha’s skin.

“This was not your fault,” she said firmly, “This was survival. She wanted you dead. She nearly succeeded. You did what you needed to do.”

Agatha looked at the beautiful woman before her and then back down at what remained of her mother. She broke away, kneeling down to the pile of bone and dust. Reaching in, she took her mother’s locket, wiping every bit of her off of it. She put it on, wearing the heirloom in opposition to her mother’s wishes.

She turned and, in the dark, saw Rio’s true face illuminated partially by the light from the moon. She jumped a bit, signaling to Rio that she had forgotten to mask it. Before having a chance to, Agatha approached her, taking her hand in hers, cupping her cheekbone. Lady Death leaned into her touch. She felt more accepted by Agatha than she had by anyone else. She managed to see the beauty of the necessary stage of life in its barest form.

Rio transported them to the fields where they met, standing beneath the stars. Agatha felt an overwhelming barrage of emotions. The grief of being orphaned, rage at her mother’s actions causing her own, and excitement at the newfound freedom. In the center of her warring sentiments was one that held firm.

“I want to cross over with you,” Agatha said.

Rio was stunned. She had been so concerned with Agatha’s safety that she had forgotten what she herself desired. She wanted nothing more than to seize the opportunity to finally claim her love, but she needed to be sure that this was fully accepted by her for what it was.

“You do know what that will mean for you.”

“I do.”

“You will give up your human mortality, any reincarnations, and stay with me for eternity. You will be bound to the realm of the dead and rule at my side for the rest of existence. Are you prepared to make such a commitment?” Rio asked.

“I have never been more certain of anything in my life,” Agatha said.

Rio’s eyes welled with tears, a rare show of vulnerability from the embodiment of death. Her face had shifted back to the one Agatha knew. She cradled her face in her hands, marveling at how beautiful her new bride was.

Agatha memorized every detail of the face she would gaze upon for eons to come. She surged up, capturing Rio’s lips in her own first kiss. The other woman wrapped her arms around her, holding her tightly. Rio feverishly kissed down her neck, ravenous for the witch. She pulled her dirtied nightgown from Agatha, leaving her naked in the soft light of the night sky. She removed her own dress, the fabric unwinding and falling from her form. Agatha held her breath at the vision standing before her. Rio did the same, her eyes devouring her. She pulled her back into a passionate embrace.

Agatha let out a whimper with Rio’s forceful kiss. She reveled in her own shamelessness of being disrobed out in nature while being defiled for the first time. She led them to lay in the grass and flowers, pulling Rio atop her. Her face was surrounded by tendrils of hair.

Rio’s face lit up, looking down at Agatha. She took a moment to pause and take her in. She was already consumed with so much love after such a long pursuit and the few months of getting to know her. Agatha had not seen the usually stoic figure smile very often. Now, it was as if she couldn’t help herself.

Rio kissed down her body, stopping to lavish attention on each breast, sucking and biting at the tender skin. Agatha gasped sharply, tangling her fingers in Rio’s hair. Rio moved lower, leaving marks along her abdomen. She moved her hands down to her thighs, looping her arms around them. She pulled her close, pressing her lips to her core.

Agatha moaned as she felt the overwhelming sensation of a woman’s tongue working its way into her. She rolled her hips and tugged her hair. Whimpers and moans tore from her throat as her pleasure built. Rio slid two fingers within her and explored every sensitive spot she could find. Once she found the one that made Agatha’s toes curl, she made sure to grind her fingertips over it with every thrust.

“Look at my queen… you truly are a vision,” she breathed before wrapping her lips around the bundle of nerves above her sex.

“Rio!” Agatha sobbed out as she pulled her in by her dark tresses, rutting against her mouth until pleasure overwhelmed her.

As her body went taut, the flowers crumbled around her glowing violet form. Rio slid her fingers from her, licking her clean through her aftershocks. She crawled up her form and had a look of adoration adorning her face. She swept down and kissed Agatha, letting her have a taste of herself. Agatha hummed into the kiss, shivering from the pleasure still thrumming in her body.

“I want to please you too,” Agatha whispered with a dark blush on her cheeks.

Rio smiled and tucked a curl behind Agatha’s ear.

“That is not necessary. Your pleasure is my pleasure.”

“I want to,” she said, looking desperately into Rio’s eyes.

“Okay,” Rio said, her mouth going dry from Agatha’s need to have her, “Lie back.”

Agatha did as she was told. Rio moved up to her shoulders and straddled Agatha’s face.

“Just listen to the sounds that I make and you will know what to do. Oh, and the bump above the… opening… is important. Trust me on that. Just remember to let me know if you would like to stop. I will not be ups-Aaah!”

Rio broke off as Agatha interrupted her in the best way possible. She gripped Rio’s hips and leaned up, diving into her. She ran her tongue along her slit messily, searching for the spot she described. Once she swiped over one that caused Rio to gasp, she sucked and teased it with the tip of her tongue.

Rio, for her part, tried and failed to keep her composure. Her panting sighs became loud moans in minutes. Agatha was clearly a quick study.

“Ah! Yes… Good girl…” Rio moaned as her hips stuttered, her cunt pulsing with her climax.

The praise lit a flame in Agatha’s chest. Rather than stopping after one, Agatha latched onto her. She was still in shock over the younger witch giving her so much pleasure during Agatha’s first time.

The ministrations on her sensitive clit made her double over, catching herself on her hands. She was bent over, grinding against Agatha’s face. She could feel Agatha’s hands move to clutch her ass. She trembled again with an unexpectedly fast climax. However, it seemed like Agatha wanted to go back for thirds.

“I-Inside me,” she panted, nearly unable to speak.

Rio rode her tongue, at the point where she was not so much talking than incoherently babbling and whining. No one in history had ever seen her this weak or out of control, even her other sexual partners never gave her this much pleasure.

As her hips sped, magic flowed from her hands into the dirt below them. Over the ground that Agatha had cleared of all flowers bloomed new ones. Life washed over the fields of Salem, bringing back to life the crops Evanora had destroyed. Flowers opened up around them, the petals tickling Agatha’s face. She cried out and nearly fainted. She fell to her side, hugging her knees and shivering at the feeling of overstimulation.

“Are you alright? Did I do alright?” Agatha asked with doe eyes.

“I am. And of course you did. You damn near killed death,” she said with a shit-eating grin on her face.

Agatha laughed and tucked her face into the crook of Rio’s neck.

“Are you ready to see your kingdom?” she asked.

Agatha sat up as she was offered a scarlet pomegranate.

[4alarmfirecracker]

Thank you @lucyllawless for the comment about the first chapter 🥰

Already told you but wanted to put the information here too, I had thought at first to link Rio's name to the River Styx but came back on that decision when I thought about the flowers Rio kept giving Agatha. So it was a given.

Calling her Death for the entirety of this 1st chapter was HARD. But consistancy is needed !

Also I cannot wait to get to the cottage part (wink wink) and Rio & Nicky's interactions and the painnnn 😇

PS: I have reopened yesterday all my fics to guests too and not only registered users.

PS2: Came back and forth on the summary being a typical blurb type or a small excerpt of the story so I hope it was the right choice because I wanted to explain more than just a peak at the story.

Death never expected to be captivated by a witch, let alone one who leaves a trail of bodies in her wake. Agatha Harkness is a force of nature, powerful and unpredictable. Death, eternal and unaccustomed to feelings, has spent millennia untouched by the desires and fears of mortals—until Agatha changes everything.

Can love exist in a world where time is fleeting and life is fragile? Together, they create something neither thought possible: a son. But when tragedy strikes, and the natural order of things is disrupted, they must confront their deepest fears and the truth about love, loss, and the burden of being Death.

Can their bond withstand the weight of their grief, or will they be forever haunted by the love they couldn’t protect?

OR

The one where I decided to write around the canon of the show, starting from when they met to how Nicky was conceived, the aftermath of everything before episode one of the show, and a happy ending following the last episode because we all need it.

[florencebirdsong]

Trick or Treat

Agatha Harkness x Rio Vidal x Reader

summary: with Agatha away planning a trick, Rio decides to have a little treat

tags: mentions of slapping, marking, biting, possible dub-con at the start regarding Rio as she uses magic, fingering (r & Rio receiving), praise kink, cunnilingus (Agatha receiving), bondage, bunny pet name 

authors note: when you’re only intending to write a quick one shot but the lesbians won’t stop playing tug-a-war 

masterlist | ao3

You hum quietly along to the old radio as you continue stitching. Agatha has yet to explain her need for a blanket covered in such a wide variety of runes but as her familiar you are happy to help anyway. 

You’re currently in a slump hobbies-wise and needed something to distract you while your mistress is away.

It’s Halloween Eve, which means she’s currently tormenting her victims into a corner so she can begin her real trick at the witching hour.

A fond smile graces your lips as you move onto the next rune. Agatha may complain about what the modern world has done to Samhain but that doesn’t stop her from enjoying herself immensely. You can already feel her anticipation through the bond and can’t wait to bask in her wicked glee when she watches her prey realise the trap they’ve fallen for.

Being able to fully bathe in the feeling is one of the reasons you don’t join her. The other is how long she likes to celebrate her victory when she comes home to a ready and wet pet.

The back door slams shut and you jump, needle piercing your finger. Blood oozes from the wound and you frown as the rune it’s resting against greedily drinks it up.

You pull your finger away with a quiet tut and poke the unrepentant rune with the sharp point of your needle. Instead of releasing the blood, it sucks up the drop still clinging to the metal. 

You sigh. That’s going to make the empowering stage much more annoying. Balancing is already hard enough when every rune starts at the same level. 

Another door slams, this one closer, and you frown. The back door could have just been the wind but you can’t even tell which door that last one was. The cabin isn’t exactly big. 

You pierce the current rune you’re working on so it doesn’t get any ideas and slowly lower the blanket. You can still clearly feel Agatha through the bond. She isn’t hiding from you and is still a fair distance away which means this isn’t her playing a game.

Rapid footsteps have you shooting to your feet with your hands raised. You may not have the powers of a full-fledged witch but you are the familiar of the most powerful witch alive and this is your home.

The footsteps stop at the door to the living room and then start to go around. Through the wall. They continue to circle the room as you try to think. Some sort of ghost, probably, but you can’t feel anything. Your mistress is a spirit witch, you have more of an affinity with it than most. You cast your magic and when that doesn’t show anything you begin muttering spells under your breath. Also nothing. Does that mean it isn’t a spirit? The footsteps reach the front porch and you decide it doesn’t matter. You bolt for the back door, where the sounds had originally started. You make it through one room before she appears in front of you. Dark hair, purple eyes, green jacket.

You freeze. Your Mistress’ magic sings at the sight of her but the animal part of your brain screams run. You don’t get the chance to take a single step. She has you trapped between her a second after you see her.

You’ve been Agatha’s familiar for long enough to know Lady Death. But only ever in spirit. A vague awareness that she’s there. Agatha is the one she talks to. For her to not only show herself but be in her physical form? For her to touch you? Your heart is going to beat out of your chest.

“Bunny, it’s so good to see you again!” she says with a big smile. “Is your mistress not home?”

You rapidly shake your head. Your panicked breaths reinforcing how tightly she’s pressed against you.

“Aw, what a shame,” she says, looking delighted. “I really was hoping to see her.” 

Her hands climbs up your sides and you desperately try to wriggle free. You can barely move at all. 

“Feeling shy?” she asks innocently. 

You’re too panicked to respond. You can feel Agatha worriedly looking down the bond but you don’t know how to respond. The clear intention behind Rio’s touch is breaking some very big rules, but that’s what a large part of her and Agatha’s relationship seems to be about. You manage to send a jumbled weird-fine-what do? down the bond which doesn’t do anything to ease Agatha.

“No need to call her,” she says and nudges your chin up. “I can take care of you.”

Her nose runs down your neck. You tense as you feel her get close to the familiar mark. Agatha’s mark. Anyone other than her touching or interfering with it results in quite a lot of pain for both parties. She pauses just above it and her hot breath has you squirming again. Something warm and wet touches just below it and you freeze.

Rio’s gives your familiar mark a long, slow lick. What should burn sends waves of pleasure through you instead. Your eyes roll back as you moan and buck into her.

Only Agatha should be able to get such a response from your mark. The fact that Rio can means-means something that’s too hard to work out with her sharp teeth scraping over it.

You whimper and instinctively bare your neck further. Her laugh is low and her breath hot against your skin.

The bond flares as Agatha’s presence fills your mind. No doubt looking through your eyes for who dared touch her pet. You force them open and on to Rio, who is still sporting the same grin. The teasing look in her eyes isn’t for you. They never leave yours as she gently brushes her lips against yours. Agatha, consciously or not, urges you forward and you lean into it willingly.

Rio pulls back with a victorious smile. You have to shut your eyes. Agatha isn’t pleased at being so easily played and between that, her own lust and yours it’s too much. 

Agatha breaks the connection to your sight with a snap. She’s still close but her emotions aren’t being directly shoved on top of your own anymore.

Rio nudges your head back up to bare your neck. You can feel her anticipation rolling off of her in waves. She practically vibrates with it. You whimper when you realise she’s going right back to your mark. She teases around it, working you up until she finally laves that last bit of attention on it and you’re limp and pliant in her arms. She eagerly begins sinking her teeth into the skin around Agatha’s mark. You don’t know enough about Rio and Agatha’s relationship to know which end it will send Agatha over, pure possessive rage or insatiable lust, but you can already feel the explosion growing with every step closer she gets.

Rio’s nails trail up the delicate skin of your inner thigh and you try to close your legs with a whine. You can’t with her pressed against you. 

One more swipe over your familiar mark has your legs opening for her. All thought of resistance gone as the ancient magic lulls you into an obedient, pleasure-filled haze. Rio slips her hand under the waistband of your pants.

“I can see why Agatha likes this so much,” Rio murmurs as her fingers delicately circle over the wet spot forming on your panties. 

You can feel Agatha getting closer and closer. Her emotions invade the bond more and more. Indignation, anticipation, pure lust. It has your hips rolling against the light pressure Rio is giving you.

Rio’s fingers move to your clit and she has you mewling for her by the time Agatha slams open the door. You can feel the way her magic pulses, inside you and against your skin, and it has you moaning.

Agatha tears Rio away from you. You whine at the loss, something that would have earned you a slap if Agatha’s hands weren’t full.

Agatha slams Rio against the apposing wall.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she growls. Her emotions are still wild and the fight between possessiveness and hunger has your knees weak.

“Enjoying Halloween,” Rio says innocently. “I thought I deserved a little treat and that you,” she leans her face closer to Agatha’s, “Would enjoy a little trick.”

“She’s mine. Find your treat somewhere else.”

“Like under your skirt?” Rio smirks. You can feel the anger and desire grow within Agatha. “She responded so well to me, didn’t you bunny?” 

She peeks over Agatha’s shoulder and you nod without thinking. It’s not entirely your fault. Touching the familiar mark in such a way is designed to flood you with the desire to please.

Agatha reaches through the bond and tugs you to your knees.

“Behave,” she snaps. The new position means you can squeeze your thighs together without falling. The tiny bit of pressure squeezing your sensitive clit has you grinding. “That is not behaving.”

You can’t stop yourself. Agatha enters your mind to find the source of your disobedience. All she finds is a lust-filled haze.

“Aw, did Rio touch my mark? Is that what turned you into such a mindless bunny?“ she says with mock sympathy as she advances on you.

You whimper up at her with pleading eyes. It’s a mistake. Moving your head clearly shows your mark, and the way it’s covered in Rio’s own.

Anger flashing down the bond has you barring your neck to her and the dark desire that hides beneath it makes your mouth water.

“That’s quite a sight, pet,” she says with a smile that stretches too wide. “It’s a miracle you aren’t dead on the ground.”

Unable to think enough to respond you continue to stare up while panting. Not wanting a dumb doll just yet, Agatha eases some of the fog from your mind.

Thoughts are still form slow and it takes you a few moments to realise she wants a response.

“It felt good,” you whimper like she doesn’t already know. 

“Oh?” she reaches down and grips your chin. “Are your loyalties so easily swayed?”

Anger claws at you. Your devotion to Agatha is complete. The familiar bond only cemented it.

“You know that’s not how it works,” you snap. Agatha looks at you with mock shock at your outburst.

“Then how does another bring you such pleasure, bunny?” she asks. You swallow. Such a dangerous question when it comes in regard to Rio. But not answering will be much worse than telling the truth.

“My feelings mirror my mistresses’ own,” you force out quietly. There’s more nuance than that to the bond, you don’t become a copy of her, but it’s true enough for what happened.

Her eyes flash just like you knew they would.

“I think that’s enough talking,” she moves her hand from your chin to your mark and presses down. Bliss bursts from the contact. It travels to your brain and down to your soaked cunt. Your eyes roll back. Your hips continuously move as you seek just a hint of pressure. Agatha kicks your thighs further apart to prevent you from getting any. “Naughty pet, telling secrets. Your mistress will have to teach you a lesson, won’t she?”

You whine, wanting to beg for mercy, but there’s barely her name in your head let alone a full thought. Before Agatha can continue, Rio breaks free from Agatha’s hold. She swings Agatha against the opposite wall with her magic. Agatha collides with a dull thud that has you trying to get up automatically. Your limbs are still weak and your brain fuzzy. It’s easy for Rio to push you back down.

“I sought out your pet for a bit of fun, Agatha. Not to be put in a corner,” she kneels in front of you and gently cups your face. Her thumbs smooth gentle circles over your cheek. You melt into it. “Your mistress is so mean, you poor thing. Trying to punish you for something that’s her fault.” One hand slides to the back of your neck and into your hair, gently scratching. You make an agreeing noise to get her to continue. 

Agatha’s indignation is clear through the bond but it feels so far away. So much attention on your mark has you floating and Rio’s soft touch isn’t bringing you down.

“Why don’t you let me help, bunny?” she says as she gently guides you to lay down. 

You make a noise of confusion. This feels like your mistress but not, and only your mistress can have you in such a way. You try and move her hands away but she shushes you. You try to close your legs but teasing fingers running up your inner thighs has them opening again. 

It shouldn’t feel so nice when your mistress’s presence is further away. You follow the bond and turn your head. Agatha’s pupils are blown and her breaths heavy. Her magic makes no appearance and she isn’t using the bond to force some clarity into your mind to stop Rio. 

“I promise to be nice,” Rio whispers as she slowly raises your shirt. Her cool touch feels so good on your overheated skin that you can’t stop her. “Let’s continue where we left off.”

Her hand slips back into your pants to your wet panties and she begins circling your clit again. You mewl quietly, eyes finding your mistress again. She’s leaning forward in her restrains and her tongue darts out to wet her lips.

You whine when Rio’s fingers disappear. Your panties disappear along with them and the chill air makes you shiver. Her fingers find your clit again and your legs spread wider.

“There’s a good bunny,” Rio says and the praise has you arching. “Such a good familiar.” Your body shudders. The bond has only increased your reaction to praise, especially when related to your behaviour as a familiar. “I wonder,” Rio says curiously. Her spare hand finds your mark and she presses down hard enough to have you going limp. Her other hand doesn’t stop. “You’re such a good girl,” she says. The heat curling around your core immediately snaps and you cry out as it flashes through you. You twitch and press into her hands. Rio laughs. “It really does make you so sensitive, huh Bunny?” her fingers circle your mark and you whimper pathetically.

“That’s enough,” Agatha says, finally using her magic to break Rio’s own.

“Is it? I haven’t finished enjoying my treat yet.”

“You know better than to break my things.”

“I guess I’ll have to do my trick then,” Rio disappears but you can feel her as clearly as you do Agatha. It’s strange to be connected to another in a way. You aren’t sure how much you like it. She isn’t your mistress. Still, a tug from Rio has you trying to stumble to your feet and a tingling sensation has her distinctiveness fading. 

“What are you doing?” Agatha asks as she steadies you. She’s right next to you. You frown and look towards the other presence. Why was she calling you from over there? You can’t make your lips work. Agatha uses the bond to brush against your mind. “Interesting trick, dear. But it won’t change who she belongs to.”

Oh, Rio was the other presence? But it doesn’t feel like Rio. It feels like your mistress. If it was her, wouldn’t Agatha be more angry? It doesn’t make sense. You just want her fingers inside of you.

Rio cackles and you’re pulled out of Agatha’s arms. The walls pass in a blur but you’re caught in a warm embrace before you begin to panic. Arms wrap around your waist and her chin rests on your shoulder. You eagerly lean back into the feeling of your mistress. She’s cooler than she usually is but you don’t mind with her skin against yours.

Frustration and delight flow through the bond and you nuzzle her neck to try and help soothe her. Since her head is on your shoulder you end up nuzzling her cheek instead. She purrs. It relaxes you further. Your eyes flutter shut.

“Rio,” mistress says warningly from far away.

“It looks like she wants to come with me, isn’t that right bunny?” she asks from right next to you.

Yes, you send clearly through the bond. Of course you want to go your mistress. Fingers find your chin and nod for you anyway.

Agatha growls and you feel magic wrapping around you again. It only pulls you for a second before it stops, her arms tightening around you. You don’t know why she’d send you away but you don’t question it with her so close. 

She summons you through the bond and you try to press even more tightly against her. A frustrated growl. Hands creep under your shirt again and you shiver. Nails lightly scraping along your ribs before fingers find your nipples. They squeeze and pinch and pull. A hot mouth finds your neck and begins sucking, thankfully giving your oversensitive familiar mark a break. You moan and arch into the touch, desire licking through the bond.

Fingers slip into your soaked core and you desperately grab her wrist. Just for something to hold on to. You’re too fuzzy to do much more than take it. 

You end up on your toes, back arched and mouth open with needy gasps. The building pleasure is much calmer with no touch to your mark. Mistress’ fingers pump into you lazily, her fingers curling as you get closer to the edge. 

“Be a good bunny,” she murmurs against your skin. “Come for your mistress.”

The warmth crests and pleasure runs through you. Desperate, needy sounds escape you as you grip her wrist tightly and grind down. Mistress doesn’t seem to mind, her other hand still groping your breast. 

You slump against her. She gently pulls out and holds her hand up, slowly opening her fingers so your cum stretches between them. You turn to try and hide your face in her neck.

“So messy,” she says. Her desire burns bright in your mind.

“You’ve had your treat, Rio,” your mistress says with a gravely voice. “And now you’ve played your trick. Time to give her back.”

“Why don’t you come and take her?”

The disorientating feeling of teleporting envelops you. Arms wrap back around your waist to steady you. 

You’re in the kitchen, facing the door. Which mistress slams through. Your bond bends and the presence of your second mistress disappears. You turn your head to find Rio. Mistress summons you and you try to squirm out of Rio’s hold. It’s as successful as the last time. Arms that were safe turn cage. You push at them but they don’t budge. 

Rio teleports you again and you stop pushing her arms to cling to them. The door handle turns and Rio does it again. She lets go this time and you wobble for a moment before falling forward. Your bed is there to catch you. The comforter is soft against your hot skin and the mattress cradles your sore muscles. You feel your mistress appear in the room but neither of them reach for you so you don’t bother to turn.

A body slams into wood and Rio moans loudly. Agatha is growling too lowly for you to understand but Rio’s teasing response ends in a gasp. You want to see but your body is so heavy, the haze making you sink down now that everything has stopped.

Wet sounds fill the room and Rio’s moans indicate that your mistress has won. You force your eyes to stay open, wanting to see what Agatha dominating looks like from the outside. Pushing yourself up onto shaky arms you manage to turn over. You can only see part of Agatha’s face and the movement of her hand but Rio is in full view. There’s still a teasing smile on her face but it’s slowly morphing into one of pleasure.

Rio’s mouth falls open as Agatha does something with her fingers and her smug look disappears as her eyes drop to Agatha’s mouth. The want in them has heat licking through your pussy again. One leg moves to wind around Agatha’s waist and her hands grips her shoulders. Agatha says something you can’t make out and Rio’s head falls back against the wall. Two thrusts later and she’s moaning, holding tight to Agatha as she comes. You watch in awe as Death unravels at the hand of your mistress. 

Death is still panting when Agatha pulls out, her eyes hooded.

Agatha raises her soaked fingers to Rio’s mouth. You’re surprised at how willingly she takes them. Rio’s dark gaze never leaves your mistress’ and you watch in fascination as her throat moves. Rio sucks as Agatha pulls her fingers out and you swallow at the noise. 

“No kiss?” Rio asks as she licks her lips.

“After stealing my familiar? No.”

“Pretty please?” Rio gives an exaggerated pout and bats her eyes.

“You’ll have to make it up to me first,” Agatha winds her hand in Rio’s hair and slowly pushes her to the floor. Rio never breaks her gaze as she gets on her knees.

She reaches up and undoes the button on Agatha’s pants before slowly pulling down the zipper. Mistress’ face is indifferent but you can feel her need flickering down the bond. It grows with every inch of skin Rio reveals.

Rio slowly pulls Agatha’s pants down before kissing Agatha over her panties.

“Teasing isn’t going to get you what you want,” Agatha warns. Rio gives a long, slow lick over the panties in response but doesn’t push it any further. She magics Agatha bare and immediately dives in.

Agatha moans and holds a hand out against the wall to steady herself. Rio isn’t easing into it. You can feel the corresponding waves of pleasure from every lick, swipe and press of her tongue. She sucks and Agatha’s other hand shoots out, head bowed. A finger teases her entrance but a flash of purple has Rio’s hands back in her lap. She huffs but doesn’t attempt again, moving to hold onto Agatha’s thighs instead. When Agatha said Rio has to earn it she meant it and you watch as Rio does. Her head constantly bobbing, lips making messy sucking sounds, the feeling of her running over Mistress again and again.

You want to touch but don’t dare risk Agatha’s ire with Rio turning onto you.

You can feel her orgasm building through the bond although she doesn’t allow it to show. Rio still hasn’t looked away from her face. 

Rio scrapes her teeth against Agatha’s clit and the feeling of Agatha’s orgasm floods you. Agatha grinds down on Rio’s face as she prolongs her high. You watch as Rio digs her fingers into Agatha’s thighs and give as good as she gets.

Agatha slows to stop as her high ebbs and jealousy runs through you as you watch Rio lap up the mess dripping down your mistress’ thighs. You haven’t gotten to taste either of them.

Agatha leans heavily against the wall as her legs continue to shake, she doesn’t take her eyes off Rio. A deep satisfaction fills her.  

Rio rockets to her feet, head popping up between Agatha’s arms and kisses her. Instead of gripping Rio’s hair like you expect Agatha cups her face and melts into her. It works to Rio’s advantage. 

She uses Agatha’s moment of weakness to force her to the floor. You watch with wide eyes as she climbs on top of her and pins her down. You push yourself up onto your arms so you can see them. You’ve been on top of Agatha before but never like this. Not with the control Rio has. 

Rio makes Agatha kiss her. Her hand moves to Agatha’s neck and squeezes. The way your mistress gasps has you squeezing your thighs together. 

Your desire is too loud and your mistress notices you. Her magic fills your mind. You beg to keep watching but her magic flows through the bond, encouraging you towards sleep. You try not to pout at not getting to see Agatha in your usual role but your eyes slip shut anyway. Pretending to sleep won’t work with you so connected and her magic coaxes you that last little bit towards unconsciousness. You slip into it just as Agatha breathes her first moan

[phantomspiderr]

roleplay w/ ghostface!rio vidal x reader x agatha harkness

kinktober '24 ~ no 5

a/n: little bit of warning, it's rio so there's knife play involved. I would also mark this as dubcon/noncon so if that's not for you please don't read. I wrote this with the thought of this being a prior conversation and rules and safe words being in place etc in mind

You jump out of your skin as your phone rings out loudly in the kitchen, your heart thumps in your chest and your body tingles all over. It rings once, then twice before you pick it up to answer. “Hello?” You receive no response but there’s a quiet electric hum coming through the speaker so you repeat yourself. Just as you consider hanging up a voice sounds, a hello followed by your name. The voice is unrecognisable, it’s croaky and robotic and it only adds to the drumming in your chest. “Um, hello. Who is this?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” You roll your eyes, sitting yourself in one of the dining chairs.

“Well, you know my name so I think it’s only fair I know yours.” You counter, tilting your head to the side as if the mystery caller could see you.

“What’s not fair is a pretty girl like you being home all alone.” Your heart drops at those words, eyes instantly darting around to the back door to your yard and then to the kitchen window above the sink. A maniacal chuckle comes through the speaker and you can feel your body tremble. “Did you think I would just knock?” You don’t even get a chance to respond because suddenly, there’s a blaring sound coming from the living room. You drop the phone on the table, hands coming up to cover your ears and you run toward the deafening noise. The tv plays some old news clip about a group of teenagers who were mysteriously found murdered. You fumble around throwing pillows and blankets off of the couch until you find the remote, shutting off the television immediately. You let out a deep breath, feeling disoriented by the loud noise and fast-moving.

“Very funny Rio. The plan wasn’t to burst my eardrums.” You call out into the room then you hear your phone ring loudly again and your whole body jumps and the remote goes clattering to the floor. With quick steps you move back to the kitchen, grab the device and answer.

“Do you like scary movies?”

“No. Now, who is this?” You continue to play along with Rio’s little game. A silly idea she’d proposed to you after a spooky movie night. A night that you spent curled into her side jumping at every little scare.

“Oh, why not? Are you scared?”

“No.”

A door slams and a short scream escapes you. It’s just the wind you tell yourself as your heart continues to race. The voice on the phone laughs again and you think for a second that you hear the laugh coming from upstairs.

“I thought you weren’t scared.”

“Why are you doing this?” You’re met with silence and then the line goes dead. You look at your phone confirming that the call is no more and then there it is, the sound of slow deliberate footsteps coming from directly above you. Everything in you tells you to run but your feet seem to have a mind of their own as your body moves toward the stairs. You stand at the bottom peering up into the darkness and that’s when you hear a slow call of your name but you can’t tell where it’s coming from. It seems to bounce around the house, not revealing the place of origin. A sound almost like nails on a chalkboard pierces your ears sending ripples down your spine. Then suddenly, there’s a pounding coming from your front door and a muffled raised voice slips through the cracks. Perplexed, you rush to the door and swing it open to reveal your neighbour, Agatha. Her face splattered with what looked like blood and a tinge of fear washes over you. She shoves you aside and slams the door shut, bolting it and leaning her head against the wood while she huffs and pants.

“Agatha?! What happened to you? Is that blood? Are you okay?” Your chest feels like it’s going to explode from the thumping of your heart.

“She’s gone crazy. She tried to kill me so I had to…” Agatha turns to you, a crazed look in her eyes, “You’ve got to believe me. It was self-defence!”

“A-Agatha, what happened?” Agatha’s movements are frantic, her hands smearing blood across her face. Fear washes over you and before Agatha can utter another word you both hear a door creak, it’s the familiar creak of your back door and your head immediately snaps around to the source of the sound. But you can’t see the door and suddenly there's a hand over your mouth, muffling a surprised yelp.

“Uh oh, looks like I didn’t finish the job.” Agatha whispers in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine, “Better run and hide bunny.” Her hand drops from your mouth and slowly you turn to face her, a sinister smile etched on her face. You’re moving before you can even register, had Rio brought Agatha in on her little game to really sell it? Haphazardly you climb the stairs, tripping on a couple of steps in the process. You can’t hear any movement behind you but you don’t stop moving. Your mind races trying to think of a good hiding place but your feet carry you to the one place you feel the safest, your bedroom. Your eyes search for a place to hide and you pick the only reasonable option even if it is the obvious one. You rip open the closet doors and practically throw yourself into the corner, you’re hugging your knees and trying your best to calm your racing heart and mind. There’s a tiny crack where the doors meet and you can just make out the bedroom door. The only sound you can hear is the blood pumping in your ears, no footsteps or doors opening. The wait is agonizing, it feels like you’ve been there too long for nothing to have happened by now so you pluck up the courage to get up. Maybe Rio wanted more of a chase? You try to be quiet, opening the closet just slightly and peeking into the bedroom. Nothing, it’s empty. So, you emerge from the closet and slowly you take steps toward the bedroom door. Your hand just rests on the doorknob but you’re jolted away from it when two hands are suddenly grabbing you. You scream as you're dragged backwards before a hand is slapped over your mouth to muffle the noise. The unknown strength uncaringly throws you onto the bed like a rag doll and your eyes go wide when you see the dark cloaked figure with that ghost white mask. Then they’re on you before you can get away but you struggle against their iron grip, wriggling as the masked figure pins your hands above your head. You cry out, not stopping until you feel cold metal press against your neck and you finally stare into the black eyes of the mask. Their head tilts as if they’re scanning your face, watching your expression as the knife presses harder and causes a searing hot pain to develop on your skin. Your eyes shut tightly and sting with tears, and then the blade is suddenly gone and your eyes shoot open to see the knife raised in the air and without warning it begins coming toward you. There’s a genuine fear coursing through your veins as you expect a sharp pain but instead, the knife is buried in the pillow right by your head. You flinch, your head turning to see a familiar green dimpled handle.

“That wasn’t funny Rio.” Your eyes are watery and you move your body in an effort to push her off but she doesn’t budge. “How did you get in here without me seeing you?” Your head tilts a fraction but still you get no audible reply. “Did you cheat? We said no magic.” Your chest still rises and falls quickly and the lack of response is startling you. The black voids of the mask stare back at you, your eyes move to watch as their free hand reveals a small bundle of rope. You don’t resist it when the cloaked figure loops the rope around your wrists, pulling tightly on purpose to ensure there will be marks tomorrow. You wince as they pull and tug at your limbs until they’re wound together and secured to the headboard.

“Oh no, please don’t kill me.” You whine, hoping that playing along with Rio’s fantasy will elicit a response. It’s not the response you hoped for but you watch as she wraps her gloved fingers around the blade once again. Your eyes flutter closed when she places the tip on your cheek and you feel it graze down your skin, nipping at the collar of your shirt and trailing down further. Once it reaches your waist she pauses and your eyes open to see why. In an instant, the knife expertly slips under your pants and you take in a sharp breath as the blade slices through the material like butter. Your eyes flicker between the cut in the fabric and the mask. It’s almost like you can feel the grin that burns through the mask. The knife is suddenly thrust back into the pillow by your head and you flinch again, letting out a shaky breath. Her hands are back on you; first starting by cupping your face, their head tilting to study you. Then her hands move down, trailing along your neck and slowing to brush over your breasts which you instinctively push up into. She momentarily halts her movements when you do that, then her hands press harder making sure her fingers fan across your covered nipples. Your mouth falls open with a sharp inhale and your hips buck upward. Her hands fall away from your breasts and move down your stomach, this time her fingers dig into your flesh until she reaches the tear in your pants. She makes sure to ghost a finger down the newly exposed skin where the fabric falls away. Then she’s tearing at the material, wanting to expose more of you. It doesn’t take long for there to be nothing but tatters left on your legs. Your skin is left red and sore from the yanking and rubbing of the fabric. You squirm as you try to reposition yourself into a more comfortable position and use it as a way to hide your now bare pussy but it’s impossible as your cloaked figure kneels between your legs forcing them open. You keep pushing against their grip but when one of their hands disappears under their cloak you grow curious. She pulls her cloak up to expose a thick purple strap secured tightly around her waist and you swear you begin to drool at the sight. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea if it meant Rio bought you such a nice new toy to play with. You seem to back down and become relaxed as her grip on your thigh grows, her nails digging in to add a sharp sting. Your breathing picks up when slowly she towers over you again, your eyes locking back onto the mask. She hovers above you, one hand now at the side of your head to hold her up and the other moves the tip of her strap through your folds. Your body shudders at the touch and you fight to keep your eyes open. Then with no further warning, she pushes into you and a scream escapes you as the stretch stings and your hands tug against your confides repeatedly. Your eyes prickle with tears but it only seems to spur her on. She straightens up so she can thrust rapidly until your screams turn into gasps and moans that seem to build more when her covered thumb presses down on your clit. The jilting of your bodies causes enough friction that she doesn’t even need to move the digit. Your eyes seem to roll back as she continues on her rough pursuit, her palm pushing down on the bulge she creates while driving her cock into your abused hole over and over until you're on the edge of cumming. 

“Well one of us is going to have to change.” Your eyes shoot open at the sound of your girlfriend's voice, it sounds further away than you think it should be and you’re confused by the sentence. But the pounding continues and you’re still panting when you see Rio standing by the bedroom door dressed in a black cloak and holding an identical white ghost mask. You’re completely disoriented at this point, if Rio is standing there then who is towering above you still thrusting their cock into you as your girlfriend watches.

“You couldn’t have let the sweet girl cum before you interrupted?” A muffled voice grunts from under the mask, then their hand raises to pull off the mask. “Hi sugar,” that sweet neighbourly voice rings in your ears as she grins down at you.

“A-Agatha?” Your question draws out as a string of moans tumbles out of your mouth. Your eyes flutter shut again as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you. Both of Agatha’s hands had shifted to your hips, aggressively tugging them to meet her thrusts as she watched your orgasm overtake your body. Your back is arched and your toes curled as she forced her strap into you again and again until you were over-sensitive and crying out. Her thrusts eventually come to a stop, her cock still buried deep inside you as you clench and squirm. You flinch when a gentle hand touches your face, your eyes open to see Rio standing by the bed now. She smiles down at you, a hint of pride in her expression.

“Angel,” the sweet pet name rolls off her tongue like honey but then she’s squeezing your face between her fingers and a dark look washes over her face, “you can’t be making all that noise.” You blink up at her, still keenly aware of Agatha’s presence between your thighs. “What if the neighbours complain?” A wicked grin breaks out on Rio’s face as she looks up at Agatha who mirrors her expression. “We’ll just have to find a way to keep you quiet huh?”

“I can think of one.” Agatha remarks quickly and Rio’s fingers release their grip on your face. Rio hums as if in thought, trying to play off like they haven’t already orchestrated this whole thing to go a certain way.

“I like your thinking, Aggie. Why don’t I sit on that pretty little face while you have your way with her again and again until she just can’t take it.” You seem at a loss for words as you just watch your beautiful girlfriend climb onto the bed. She kneels beside you for a moment to share in an exchange with Agatha, the pair holding one another’s face for just a brief moment before Rio moves again. She straddles your chest and you wriggle slightly, momentarily forgetting that Agatha’s strap is still stretching your sensitive hole. A whine falls from your lips and Rio tuts. “You’re such a pretty girl, it’s a shame you just can’t keep quiet.” Her condescending tone floats through the air as she hikes up the black fabric that drapes her body to reveal her bare pussy just inches from your face. She slips a hand into your hair as she pulls herself forward. She tugs your head up and sinks her wet folds down onto your face, your mouth instinctively opens and your tongue gathers her familiar taste. Immediately she begins rocking her hips back and forth and your eyes fall closed as she uses you for her own pleasure. A sharp moan vibrates against her core as Agatha begins to move inside of you again and Rio’s grip on your hair tightens. “Do that again.” You’re not sure if she’s growling at you or Agatha at that point but you both seem to respond as Agatha fluidly starts thrusting into you again and a flurry of moans vibrates against Rio’s clit. “Fuck!” She cries out, now arguably she is becoming louder than you were but no one is sitting on her face. Your tongue continues to lick and prod at her, trying your hardest to make her cum. Your eyes open to see her head thrown back as her hips move in time with Agatha’s and you’re not sure whether it’s the lack of oxygen or the second orgasm washing over you that prickles your vision. You look up at Rio’s blissed-out face, seeing black spots as your hips thrash around while Agatha relentlessly continues to hammer into you. Wave after wave of pleasure hits you again and again until your mind is completely gone.

“Oh now you’ve gone and killed the poor sweet thing.” Agatha’s echoey voice whirls around your head.

“Don’t worry, she’ll come around.” You can feel a soft hand holding your face and an arm secured around your shoulders. “Look there she is,” Rio’s voice seems to pull you back as your eyes slowly blink open, “hi sweetheart.” A weak smile stretches out on your face as you curl your tired body inward, snuggling closer into Rio’s arms.

Your hands had somehow been freed and now you were curled up in the bed with Rio next to you and another presence close by.

“What-what happened?” Your weak, croaky voice comes out and your throat feels dry.

“Don’t worry angel. Why don’t we just get you cleaned up and in bed huh?” Your mind is fuzzy and your entire body aches but you feel a buzz running through your veins.

“Did I do a good job?” Your question comes out small and you hear a duet of giggles before Agatha closes in to press a kiss to your temple and she softly speaks.

“A good job? Baby, you’re gonna be in the sequel.”

[yoursicklilbaby]

Just Like Honey

I cannot believe that I did it, but I did it, and the second part is yet to come.

Pairing: Agatha x Non-binary Reader x Rio

Summary: AU. You were invited to a fancy art-exhibition opening where you saw the Green Lady performance; the rest is history.

Word count: 4.5k

Warnings: NSFW 18+

this was supposed to be a smut with some plot, but I’m a slowburner. Mommy, daddy kinks, a bit of smoking, tantra, submission, dominance, petnames, orgasm control.

Butt stuff awaits in the next chapter, sorry guys xx

***

You were heading towards the exit of the building to take a break from the cramped halls of the museum and have a cigarette. Not that you were an avid smoker, but a friend of yours left her pack at your place the other day, and you felt like a mischievous teen sneaking out—it tickled your fancy, even though you were now almost 30 years old, getting your Ph.D. in psychology, but still not quite believing that you’d made it this far. A grown-ass therapist, helping people with their stuff, yet still having your gay panicky moments when surrounded by gorgeous women at events like this.

It was an opening of an art-exhibition to which you had been invited by your friend who worked there as a curator but she was now busy with her colleagues in the venue’s private lounges, so you were all by yourself. You were enjoying the buzz of the exquisite gathering, but were a little stunned after the performance you had just seen.

A beautiful dark-haired woman in a green sparkling ballet leotard—her arms and legs beautifully adorned with black mesh fabric, ropes and flowers—danced alone in the center of a darkly lit room to the soundtrack of Thom Yorke's Suspiria.

You loved the movie and remembered how it turned you on, particularly the unspoken interaction between Tilda Swinton and Dakota Johnson’s characters. This performer was nothing alike—there was definitely something witchy about her, but in a different way. She was not subtle at all—like a storm of green fire, she radiated power, so free and uninhibited; her movements and leaps resembled a dance of tribal origins, with dust swirling up as she touched the ground. Heavy breathing stirred all your senses, she smelled of some herbal fragrance, with a dash of amber-musk earthy touch. You stayed close and felt it, causing your cheeks redden, and you instinctively clenched your thighs, as a wave of thrill surged within you. The intense sexual energy in the thick air was overwhelming, and you felt the urge to calm down.

Standing at the museum’s main entrance, you lit the cigarette, took a few puffs and looked around. It was nice outside, with all those glowing neon lights and fog. You took out your phone to snap selfies with your cigarette to tease your social media followers later.

‘These are gonna kill you one day, rock’n’rolla,’ said the raspy voice not far from you.

You were about to respond to such a cliché with a grumpy face, but looked up and saw her.

The woman in her 50s in a fancy dark purple suit was devouring you with her piercing blue eyes. Her purposely disheveled hair with a long, wavy bangs emphasized her mysterious and even fierce gaze. God, she was sexy, exactly your type. You stood there in silence with your burning cigarette, while she grinned.

‘Lovely opening, isn’t it?’ she said, inviting you to a small talk.

‘Yeah, indeed,’ you said with a little tremor in your voice. ‘You know, I don’t actually smoke, it’s just…’ Surprisingly for yourself, you started making excuses like a schoolboy.

‘I was kidding, hon.’ She laughed and came closer. ‘May I?’

‘Sure.’ Ignoring the nickname, that made you feel disoriented, you gently reached toward her side, expecting her to grab the cigarette with her hand. Instead, she inhaled it with her mouth, her lips brushing softly against your fingertips. You were in so much trouble.

‘Agatha Harkness,’ she introduced herself.

‘Y/N, they/them,’ you said, preventing any potential subsequent misunderstandings.

‘I’ll remember that,’ she winked at you and looked you over from head to toe, making you blush.‘Love the shoes!’

‘Thanks…Agatha.’ You smiled and gazed at your worn but timeless Docs. They were a win-win choice to accompany your laidback look with black jacket and jeans with a chain dangling from them. She came closer and playfully touched the chain.

‘You’re a classy, rock’n’rolla, aren’t you? You must be an artist?’

‘No, no, I’m just…a tourist. My friend is working there, she invited me.’

‘I see,’ Agatha was inspecting you with her languid eyes.

You were trying to do your best and continue the small talk. God, you were so bad at this, but this time your gut was telling you to buckle up, treat the woman with respect, and make words into sentences. She was so magnetic, you were willing to do anything not to bore or spook her away. You were ready to do anything overall and to follow her anywhere.

‘What about you? Are you here by yourself?’ you asked.

‘My wife is performing tonight, and I have a penchant for contemporary art. A philanthropist, so to speak. What’s your thing?’

Something dropped inside you, as you heard about the wife. But Agatha looked so alluring, still staring at you: she approached your hand with a cigarette once again and ghosted your fingers with her lips, giving you shivers.

‘I’m a therapist actually. I fancy different forms of arts, but this time it was the performance that hit right in the heart. Have you seen it? The one with the dancing green lady?’

‘I have. Many times.’

‘Many times? I thought it was a special thing for the opening…’

‘Rio, the green lady, she’s my wife,’ Agatha smirked.

Fucking hell, no way. You couldn’t hide the redness in your cheeks any more and you bet she noticed.

‘Wow, I mean…she’s really good.’

‘She is. I’m glad that you loved it,’ she smiled suspiciously.

‘So, Y/N, do you wanna get back or take a stroll with me?’

‘I…what about Rio?’

‘Ah, Rio is having an after-party with a group of artists later tonight.’

‘Won’t you join her?’

‘I’m too old for such things—

‘You’re not old,’ you interrupt her. ‘You are—

‘I am what?’

‘You’re…a vision.’

‘That’s cute, thank you,’ she bit her lip, pleased with your compliment. ‘So are you coming with me or not?’

You vigorously nodded. She flipped her lush hair back over her shoulder, adjusted her jacket and said teasingly:

‘Come, pet!’

It was impertinent, to say the least. You were taken aback with this new nickname, but followed her anyway. Agatha seemed to be full of secrets that were eager to be revealed.

***

You were walking down the alley together, talking about art and her business. You were so curious, you wanted to know everything about the woman. It turned out that she was in charge of many of the upscale contemporary art exhibitions around the world, and she enjoyed having authority while guiding her teams. Needless to say, she was rich, maybe even get-away-with-murder rich, but when discussing her work, she expressed herself with a great deal of passion–it wasn't merely about money, but rather about the beauty she wanted to share globally. That was incredibly powerful.

The faint glow of the lanterns barely lit up the fallen autumn leaves beneath your feet; with the air being crisp and chilly, you raised the collar of your jacket and hugged yourself tightly. It didn’t go unnoticed by Agatha, so she put her hand on your back, caressing you warmly. Unintentionally, you curved your back a bit, enjoying her gentle touch.

‘Look at you, poor thing, you’re shivering! Let’s get you home, I need you alive.’

You blushed again but didn’t hesitate. To be frank, you loved being taken care of, especially by older women.

You followed her to her car and dropped your jaw—an exquisite purple Mercedes with a slick, shiny hood and graceful outline was waiting for you; the muffled sound of a running engine and the headlights flashing enticingly. A slender girl in a leather jacket and a chauffeur's hat emerged from the driver’s seat and opened the rear doors for you both.

‘This is Lee, my bodyguard. Lee, this is Y/N, let’s take them wherever they tell you to go and then we’ll head home. Mommy needs her sleep.’ Agatha sighed looking at you to ensure you heard her one-liner.

You got turned on in a second and felt already wet; your cunt was aching, being aroused just by the word alone. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

‘Yes, ma’am,’ shortly answered Lee, and glanced at you from the rear-view mirror with a cold demeanour.

You muttered the address to the car dynamic and looked sideways.

‘Don’t worry, hon, Lee is my person of trust. She’s very protective and just does her job well, making sure my family is safe as kittens, that’s right, Lee?’

Lady in black nodded and fixed her eyes on a road, a faint smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

‘At what time should I pick up Rio, ma’am?’

‘I bet she’s partying all night, so just park somewhere in the area on your ride back; she will call you.’ Agatha said a little worriedly, biting her lip.

‘Roger that.’

They both seemed suspicious but you thought that it would be inappropriate to ask Agatha about her partner right now. You didn’t want to interfere with their relationship, despite Agatha assuring you that it was fine for the two of you to hang out.

‘Rio is a little out of control sometimes, you know,’ Agatha said as if she could read you mind. ‘Once they went into the woods and had a bonfire with fireworks, Rio’s idea. It was a restricted area, so I had to clean up the mess and deal with the police. When she parties nonstop, I lose control and worry. And I hate being worried.’

‘It’s okay to worry when you love someone, don’t be too hard on yourself,’ you said.

‘Thank you, doc,’ she smirked and stroked your thigh.

‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to shrink you,’ you said, melting by her touch.

‘It’s fine, I just wanted to call you ‘doc’, it turns me on.’

You giggled nervously, trying to gather a response, but couldn’t think of anything and turned your face away from her in embarrassment.

Suddenly Agatha moved closer to you and tucked your short hair behind your ear; she stopped her fingers on your earlobe, rubbing it gently. You closed your eyes and moaned faintly. She enjoyed watching how easily you trembled under her touch. The car was slowing down and you saw the features of your house through the window.

‘Turn around, pet. I want your beautiful eyes to look at me now,’ the woman commanded. You couldn’t resist her low strict voice. You wanted to obey her.

‘That’s a good pet, look at me, talk to me. Is it okay when I call you so?’ Agatha was holding your chin, her gaze was serious.

‘Yes,’ you mumbled.

‘Not quite the answer. Say it again.’

‘Yes, Agatha.’

‘Nah-ah. Try harder. You know the answer.’

‘Yes…Mommy.’

‘Well done, pet,’ she bestowed you with a warm smile and pecked your cheek. ‘Now give me your phone number, I’ll text you soon.’

***

And just like that, it took up almost all of your brain cells for the weekend—a VIP purple lounge embellished with poison ivy exuding an amber-sandalwood scent. You googled Agatha, but it was pointless—people like her tended to stay in the shadows savouring their power in other ways.

Rio Vidal, on the other hand, was easy to find. She was a prodigy dancer and had hundreds of instagram followers. God, how sublime she was, looking from photos straight into the camera with her brown eyes giving the evil witchy gaze, the same you saw at her performance. She was insanely hot and intimidating at the same time. You were scrolling her page carefully, trying not to accidentally like any photo—you were still uncertain about what kind of relationship they had and you definitely didn’t want someone like Rio to turn into your enemy.

Your phone didn’t make a sound during the whole weekend, and you were about to admit that all of this was just a delusional dream, that probably Rio came back home the other day, they had a conversation, and Agatha deleted your number for good, giving preference to her family. That made sense, albeit frustrating, as your imagination had already conjured vivid images of Agatha touching you, controlling you, calling you nicknames and teasing you until you beg for her mercy.

comepetlookatmepetgoodpetmommyneedshersleeppetpetpetpetpetpetpetpetpetpetpetpet

Jeez, just a brief thought of it made your stomach churn in seconds. And truthfully, as much as you hated to say it, Rio crossed your mind as well. In fact, you were craving both of them to make your wildest dreams come true, and you were ready to go to great lengths to get the unachievable; you were dying of hunger and lust. But you couldn’t do a thing about it. It was burning you inside out.

On Monday, you worked with your clients in a cabinet, doing your best not to let your mind interfere with your therapy process. You were doing this for a long time, so normally your personal life stayed aside, and you would easily go into meta-position, all senses on a client and their session. But today was challenging as hell, and you were waiting for your supervision to let it all out from your chest and move on for good.

During a break, you went outside for a smoke—it evoked recent memories and made you feel things. You closed your eyes and pictured Agatha’s lips on your fingertips. Was it even real? Or was it a spell casted by the green witch dancing to Volk in the dusty room? Fuck, it ached so much, and also turned you on, just thinking of that Friday evening. Suddenly, your phone buzzed in your pocket. Your heart raced, and you felt fever all over your body.

Hey bro, sorry for leaving you alone! Did you have fun?

Such a bummer. Finally, your friend remembered your existence, but right now you didn’t give a flying fuck.

That was a blast, thanks again for the invite!

You were ready to throw your useless phone somewhere out of sight and forget about it until the end of the working day. You were furious, to say the least.

***

In the evening, when you came back home, you couldn’t help but open Rio’s instagram page again. As if something there would give you a clue why the fuck Agatha was torturing you. Yes, you knew you had no right to judge; being a homewrecker never was in your plans, but still—she gave you a promise, and you believed her. At least one text…You couldn’t accept that you were played like a teen, and you hated it so much, being trapped by her looks, teasing nicknames, and touches. God, you’d give up everything to feel her touch on your skin again.

Mommy please…

All of a sudden you lost your patience and felt brave enough to open Rio’s stories. It’s not stalking if a person is a celebrity, is it? After all, she had numerous followers, so it was unlikely she recognized you among the crowd based on your avatar.

There were some reposts about yoga or tantric classes, nothing that would give you any information…well, it was worth a try. You closed the page, sighed with a bittersweet relief and laughed at yourself. What am I doing? Just put yourself together, delulu.

Just then, your phone vibrated, and you noticed a new number in the preview. You quickly sprang out of bed as if it were on fire.

You didn’t forget about Mommy, did you?

OH MY GOD. You smiled to yourself like an idiot and screamed in high-pitched voice, covering your mouth with a palm of your hand. Fuck. What should I say. Sweet suffering Jesus. You couldn’t believe that it was happening, but somehow you put your shit together and came up with a suitable response.

I don’t remember anything else.

Good pet. What do you think about coming over on Friday evening to our place?

It would be a pleasure!

I’ll send Lee to pick you up at 8PM, be ready.

Yes!

Wrong answer.

Yes, Mommy

;)

You laughed at the old-fashioned smile she sent, but thought that it was cute. You counted days until Friday, so desperate to see her again. There was just one tiny mystery regarding ‘our place’ in her message.

Does it mean that Rio would be there too? Or does it refer to ‘our house’ meaning the place where they live? Will Rio be out? Does she know?

Thoughts were racing in your head, but you were too anxious to ask in advance. And, frankly speaking, you always loved surprises.

***

On Friday evening at exactly 8PM, the same purple car pulled up to your house, and Lee briefly waved to you with her hand, the same pokerface though.

You sat beside her, deciding that it would be more comfortable to avoid eye contact. She still seemed to be somewhat scary. It was an awkward silence for a while.

‘It's a 30-minute ride, so feel free to play some music if you like.’

You gladly accepted, and she handed you the chord. You picked something neutral, and ‘Shadow’ by Chromatics began to play from the Mercedes' speakers.

‘You have a good taste, Y/N.’

‘Thanks, Lee,’ you answered a bit surprised that she remembered your name.

***

They lived out of town; the car parked in front of a big house, which resembled one of those from thrillers featuring families living in chic houses with expansive floor-to-ceiling windows, observed by serial killers. Elegant minimalism with a lovely garden.

As you walked through the gates, your heart raced with excitement. She was standing there, arms crossed and head tilted. Those stunning hair, with a flawless dark-brown balayage. She gave you a wink and your cunt instantly reacted and flowed.

‘Nice to see you again, rock’n’rolla,’ Agatha smiled.

‘Thanks for having me. Your house is amazing!’

‘You haven’t even seen what’s inside. Come, pet, Rio can’t wait to meet you.’

Your eyes widened in shock as you gasped in confusion—Agatha placed her hand on your back to reassure you.

‘Hi, I’m Rio!’

A striking woman in total black appeared in the grand hallway, seemingly appearing from thin air. You began to wonder if she might actually be a witch.

‘Pleasure to meet you, I’m Y/N,’ you replied nervously, extending your hand for a shake unable to come up with anything better.

‘I heard! Agatha told me that you watched me dancing and you loved it, didn’t you?’ Rio approached closely, giving you the wildest seductive smile, then grasped your hand tightly and led you into the living room. You smelled the familiar earthy scent she’d worn before. Oh god.

You and Agatha were sitting on a blue velvet couch around a coffee table filled with snacks, soft drinks, and fruit of all kinds. Rio was gracefully laying on the fluffy carpet before you, leisurely putting a cherry into her mouth, and you couldn't take your eyes off this little spectacle. It looked like she was intentionally teasing you, leaving you unsure if you needed Agatha's consent to gaze at her wife that way.

‘Do you know anything about tantra, Y/N?’ she asked you, looking at Agatha sideways, as if they’d be having a silent conversation the whole time.

‘I…well, not much, to be honest,’ you muttered.

‘I bet you’ll love it! You know, it’s my new thing apart from dancing. We planned something special for today, and it’s absolutely magical,’ she playfully raised her eyebrows and smirked.

I see, everything about you two is magical.

Agatha observed you the entire time, and you were sitting there red-faced, drenched in desire, unsure how to act. You didn't dare look at Agatha at that moment, felt guilty about being so attracted to Rio, yet it was beyond your control.

‘You’re blushing, sweetheart, is everything alright?’ Agatha traced her fingers down your thigh, sending shivers down your spine.

‘Yeah…I’m good,’ you answered looking down, studying the carpet patterns.

‘Look me in the eye, when I’m talking to you, pet,’ she said harshly.

You were startled, but you obeyed. A smile appeared on her strict face as she stroked your cheekbone. She narrowed her eyes and clicked her tongue.

‘They are so beautiful, aren’t they, Rio?’ Agatha said moving her face closer to yours.

‘You have impeccable taste, my love,’ said Rio, sucking on a berry.

You could hear the sound of her tongue slurping, but now you were sure you would need Agatha’s permission to gaze at Rio. Anyway, now you were staring at Agatha’s face in admiration—her stern eyebrows, her pale skin, lovely crinkles around her eyes when she was smiling, prominent jawline and those delicious kissable red lips. How badly you wanted to kiss them. She smelled of wood and bergamot; it was a heavy perfume that made you feel a bit dizzy, but you wanted to drown in her deep waters with dangerous waves. You longed to be swallowed whole by her.

‘Lee told me you're a melomaniac, do you have any suggestions for our playlist? By the way, you can look at Rio now, if you want to, hon,’ Agatha caressed your cheek once more, giving you her approval.

You couldn't tell if the whole situation was scaring you or turning you on, but something was pushing you to take action. Use it or lose it.

You took out your phone and linked it to the speaker.

Madi Sipes ‘Somebody’s daughter’ started playing in the background:

Somebody’s daughter’s calling me daddy, so I get on my knees, I’ll do everything for you…

‘Ooh who’s your daddy, little one?’ Rio laughed, looking at you with her brown cherry eyes.

‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to…I just love this songwriter, they have a deep voice and dreamy melodies,’ you said nervously and started flushing again.

‘She’s fucking with you, rock’n’rolla,’ said Agatha and gently ghosted her fingers down the back of your neck. You closed your eyes in pleasure and took a deep breath.

‘Not yet, darling,’ Rio replied and giggled loudly. ‘By the way, shouldn’t we prepare to tantra, don’t you think, babe?’ She said looking at her wife.

‘Okay, I’ll let you borrow Y/N to prepare cocoa and I’ll be waiting for you both in the parlor,’ Agatha commanded, looking at Rio, ‘and no funny business.’

***

You went to the kitchen and Rio explained that cocoa thing to you.

‘They usually drink it before tantric sessions, you know, to stimulate creative energy, to let it all go…that sort of thing,’ she said cryptically.

‘And what exactly are we going to do?’ You wondered.

‘We’ll see! You never can say for sure how a session will go, but from my experience, it’s all about pleasure, which is why I love tantra. Simply switch off that clever mind of yours and rely on your gut feelings,’ she said, filling the cups with hot cocoa.

Oh, that’s risky. You approached the kitchen island to take the tray.

‘Just so you know,’ she whispered in your ear and licked it slowly, ‘I’m the daddy in this house.’

You were so doomed, but there was no turning back. The game was on, full force.

You carried the cocoa cups while Rio guided you to the parlor, which in fact was a dim red room with soft carpet, candles, a gong and a faint scent of Palo Santo. Soft meditative music gently filled the space.

‘This is my territory, so I’m in charge here, and you should listen and follow my instructions,’ Rio declared.

Agatha frowned slightly and grinned at her while Rio awkwardly chuckled.

‘Don’t be so tense, baby, I know you’ll love it.’

The dynamics of their relationship were still a mystery for you, but it was tantalizing and you were ready for anything at this point.

‘With the powers of darkness, whore-ness and slut-ness, let the ceremony begin!’ Rio said grotesquely. You struggled not to burst into laughter, marvelling at how hilarious and confident she was being.

You were drinking cocoa, seated comfortably on the floor in a small circle and closing your eyes. Rio said something about a request that each of you should formulate in your head without sharing it. Tonight you dreamed of only one thing. One that would involve the three of you and hopefully last for a long time.

Than the music became louder, you stood up and began swaying with your eyes shut, slow-dancing, stretching your bodies. Rio was leading you throughout.

‘Let’s choose the person who will be in the center,’ she said. ‘So we work with their request.’

Agatha pointed at you and the choice was made.

You stood in between them, still trying to understand where this was going.

‘Calm your body, shut your eyes, don’t say a word and focus on your desire. Let us know if anything bothers you, but show it with your body language, and we'll halt.’

You quietly nodded, taking a deep breath.

‘Actually, you know what, let’s take a little precaution,’ said Rio, blindfolding you with a silky tissue.

It was somewhat like an enchanting journey, and you still struggled to believe it was real. A soft but steady hand was brushing your hair, caressing your head slowly, sending delightful shivers down your spine. The other woman's hands moved over your body from your shoulders to your hips, ankles, and feet with intense pleasure. The sensation was so thrilling that you pleaded for her not to stop, not ever.

They were moving circles around you, uttering incomprehensible words; it felt like meditation taken to a different dimension infused with incantations and a flow of sexual energy coursing through your body, making your skin tingle.

Unexpectedly, the meditation playlist shifted its mood, and you could hear ‘Just Like Honey’ filled the air with the speakers. It all felt like honey indeed, and you found yourself shamelessly immersed in it.

They drew nearer, their bodies were touching yours, growing warmer and more intimate with each movement. The women started slow-dancing around you, wrapping your body with theirs, you could feel Agatha’s hands on your hips, her hair touching your face, Rio’s nails inspecting your back and her intense breath on your neck—you were over the moon, ready to die of a great deal of pleasure, you wanted more of it and moaned very loud, not realising it. Usually, you were a slow burner, but everything you had experienced before couldn’t hold a candle to this magical ritual and you felt like you were about to cum from just their subtle touches. Now you were truly convinced to be conjured by the witches; ready to serve them and be their whore for life.

They pressed they hips against yours, swaying to the beat of the music. They were so close to you, but not close enough, they were torturing you: Agatha ghosted the tip of her nose over yours, while Rio was running her tongue along the inside of your palm. You groaned with painful desire.

‘Shhh, not yet, be a good pet for Mommy,’ you heard Agatha’s husky voice in extreme proximity to your ear, and felt your pussy clenching and dripping again.

‘Mommy please…’ you moaned against her lips. ‘I want you so bad, I want both of you so bad, I’m gonna die…’

‘Patience, sweetheart,’ Rio whispered as she nibbled at your earlobe. ‘We’re not done with our spell yet.’

They were ghosting your whole body with their hands, giving you soft kisses from head to toes, whispering:

Look at you, our pet

In our hands, melting like a candle

Forget everything you knew before

Give yourself to us

Surrender to us completely

Mommy and daddy will take care of you

Mommy and daddy will fuck you all night

Mommy and daddy will fill all your holes

You will cum for mommy and daddy

Only when they let you

Agatha removed the smooth scarf from your head, gazing into your eyes with a seductive smile as her hand gently rested on your chin. Rio approached her gracefully, nuzzling against you like a sleek black cat, her hand securely placed on your waist. She kissed Agatha harshly, driven by desire and fervor, their lips and tongues intertwining in rhythm, while their arms embraced you from either side as if you were their property. You were hypnotized watching them kiss right in front of you; their beckoning velvet skin bathed in the warm red glow of the magical parlor room.

‘Wanna join, rock’n’rolla?’ They parted in a kiss for a fleeting moment before looking at you with desire, drawing your face towards theirs and inviting you to kiss them together, all at once.

You felt their tongues playing with yours, and the three of you moved in perfect harmony, as if you’d been doing it for eternity. A wave of anticipation surged within you, making your cunt squeeze over and over, but you knew it was just the warm-up.

***

[gaypalz]

Chapter 2 and 3 are now up!

And hopefully I'll have chapter 4 done by tomorrow :)

Agatha x Rio Fake dating Christmas AU with a sprinkle of miscommunication, angst, and pinning

Summary:

When Agatha’s mother needles her once again about her lack of love life, she snaps, telling her that in fact, she is bringing her fiancée. … except she’s completely single. Rio volunteers to be her girlfriend (suspiciously eager) and Agatha can’t decline her roommate's proposition (it’s not like Agatha’s about to tell Rio that she’s been in love with her for years) and shenanigans ensue.

Basically Happiest Season meets But I'm a cheerleader meets the fake dating trope ig lol

[aperfectlylesbian]

No one — I said, no one — will be able to convince me that Isabela Merced isn't perfect to be an agathario's daughter, and I'm claiming that for my story.

Like, LOOK AT THIS:

I'm not crazy, this makes perfect sense! THOSE BIG BROWN EYES, DOE EYES!! She's very good for this role! I'm happy to have finally found an actress for my fancast.

"Ah, but Isabela Merced is already part of the MCU, she played Anya in Madame Web"

I DON'T WANNA KNOW, I DON'T CARE, I DON'T GIVE A SHIT! I'M GOING TO USE THIS FANCAST BECAUSE IN MY HEAD IT MAKES A LOT OF SENSE!

By the way, what's the fancast of your agathario OC's people? I feel like we're outnumbered because I at least don't see many people creating agathario oc's, but it would be interesting to talk about it.

-

Bonus: She looks a lot with April, I remembered that because I read a fanfic (WHICH I LOVED, BY THE WAY) of April Ludgate x Jennifer Barkley. So, author, whoever you are, this is for you <3

Updates: I FOUND THE FANFIC! It's called "checkmate!" By fqrcefields (sqyyadina)! Ugh, I loved this fanfic with all my might! If anyone knows the author's @ here on tumblr, please tag here!!

[natashasvixen]

Bunny love

Summary: As much as she may try to hide it from her Rio knows that Agatha gets lonely when she has to “work” and while away she finds what she hopes may be the perfect companion for her wife.

Tags: Pure fluff, married Agathario, soft Rio, soft Agatha, baby Señor Scratchy, pet names (mi amor, angel) , pre Agatha all along?

💢Spoilers if you don’t know Rio’s identity yet💢

Author’s note: Hi hello, I genuinely don’t remember the last time I wrote anything but I couldn’t get this idea out of my head and I just love them so much, we aren’t going to talk about how much research I did into rabbit breeds being introduced to which countries and in which years, it’s embarrassing…. Enjoy!

Scotland 1953

It was late into the night, maybe even early morning judging by the pitch blackness outside the windows as Agatha sat next to the fireplace she’d been tending with a blanket thrown over her lap and one of her many spell books balanced neatly on the arm of the couch. The Scottish winters were harsh but the little cottage nestled away in the highlands that her and Rio shared fared well and it was more than worth it for the beauty of the landscape that surrounded their home. Here she and her wife almost felt closer to their witch roots than even that of being back in Salem and Agatha certainly didn’t miss the reminders of her Mother and Coven everywhere she looked, here in the forest surrounded by only nature she knew they were safe to live their life together, not having to hide their magic or their love for one another.

With a slight sigh Agatha pulled herself out of her little daydream and focused her eyes back on the pages of the book in front of her, her head was starting to hurt from the jumble of Latin and other languages, Agatha reached forward for the piece of paper she was jotting down notes on, grabbed her pen and wrote down a few more things that could be of help for the spell she was trying to create, Rio said she was mad trying to make a child of magic that would be both of theirs equally but Agatha would go to the ends of the earth to make it true, she wanted nothing more than a family with the love of her life and deep down she knew Rio wanted it too, she didn’t care if it was against the laws of magic to do so and for hours upon end every day she would read every spell book and grimoire cover to cover trying to find all the answers and incantations she may need to finally make her and Rio’s dream a reality.

The Netherlands (somewhere)

To be perfectly honest Rio wasn’t sure where she was, the Netherlands that’s for sure but she’s not sure which city she is on the outskirts of, you’d think after hundreds of years of transporting souls of the dead to their final resting place all over the world she would be better at her geographical knowledge but it wasn’t really important when you always had the same destination to reach in the end. It had been a tiring trip, yes she was death personified but that didn’t mean what she had to do got any easier over the years, this time it had been a young family and while at least they could stay together it still drained her to think of the life they could have had. Gently she lowered herself to sit on a frosted log and took a moment to collect herself before heading home to her beloved. As Rio rested her head in her hands she heard a faint rustling in front of her, she narrowed her eyes and looked forward, faintly bringing her green magic to the surface, even now the memories of the witch trials hung over her head and she was always ready to protect herself if need be.

Much to Rio’s amusement a small rabbit emerged from the undergrowth, “wow lady death being spooked by a bunny rabbit that’s a new low” she mused to herself as she watched the rabbit tentatively move closer to her. “Well you certainly aren’t meant to be out here, you’re definitely not a wild rabbit” Rio spoke to the small creature slowly lowering her hand out for the bunny to sniff, the little thing was as far from a wild rabbit as you could get, bright white with speckles of light orange and black spots and the floppiest ears you’ve ever seen also far too tiny to be out wandering alone.

Being a green witch and yet also lady death was a confusing combination for nature to comprehend sometimes, Rio was drawn to nature and it often returned the same feeling towards her, that included the living beings that inhabited its world and this baby rabbit seemed no different, hopping over after a quick sniff of her hand and settling down under Rio’s cloak to shield itself from the cold breeze that washed over the countryside, she chuckled at its actions and flicked her wrist, her green magic making some dandelions sprout from the icy ground which the rabbit happily munched on.

As the witch watched the small rabbit eat she pondered to herself, “can’t exactly leave you out here can I? And Agatha has been going on about getting a familiar” the tiny ball of fluff stood up on its back legs resting its front feet on the side of Rio’s leg barely reaching above her boot and looking at her intently. Rio smiled to herself and scooped the rabbit into her arms who settled down instantly into the warmth, “she’s going to say I’ve gone soft” she scoffed to herself as she prepared to transport herself and her new little companion home.

Agatha’s research for the night was becoming increasingly exhausting and she knew she should have been in bed hours ago, this was made abundantly clear when she felt the familiar pull of her wife’s magic that was so intertwined with her own she knew when she was close, meaning she was in fact home from helping another soul pass on through the veil.

Rio always transported herself home outside of their cottage when she was late not wanting to wake her wife from her slumber however as soon as she found herself on the snow dusted doorstep of their home she could feel Agatha’s magic humming with life and clearly not sleeping, gently tucking the little bundle of fluff she was carrying further into her cloak both to keep him warm and hidden so she could surprise her lover she gently eased the wooden door open and slipped inside quickly to not let the heat of the fire out.

Slipping off her boots and easing down the hood of her green cloak she moved her way into the living area where she saw her wife smiling tiredly at her from her comfy position on the couch, “mi amor what are you still doing awake” Rio asked quietly as she raised an eyebrow questioningly. “Just doing some more research” Agatha sighed, motioning to the still open spell book, “I didn’t realise the time, how was your trip angel?” She questioned softly. Rio scoffed as she always did at the pet name Agatha had bestowed upon her all those years ago when they met for the first time, quite fitting being called an angel when she was literally death itself. “Tiring” she mumbled leaning down to press a kiss to the top of her wife’s head, as she did Agatha noticed movement beneath Rio’s cloak and a quick hiss came from her wife’s mouth, Agatha noted that she still had one arm tucked away behind the fabric. She tilted her head quizzically at the green witch, “what are you hiding from me?” She questioned reaching to grab at her cloak, “ah ah ah” Rio tutted, pulling away, “it’s a surprise” she said, holding up her other hand to wave a finger at her wife mockingly.

“Oh come on Ri you know I hate surprises” Agatha said getting up on her knees to try get a better look over the back of the couch at what her wife was concealing underneath her cloak. Rio rounded the couch and Agatha turned to follow her movements now sitting crossed legged as Rio stood in front of her with both her arms now tucked back inside her cloak, “you’re going to make fun of me” the green witch said as she became uncharacteristically shy and turned her body slightly away.

“Well that depends what it is but I promise I’ll try not to tease” Agatha said with a smirk reaching her hand out to beckon Rio closer to her.

Now Rio stood right in front of Agatha and the purple witch gently took hold of the arm that her wife had been hiding and noticed that there were scratch marks, “you think I’m going to make fun of you for getting scratched?” Agatha questioned looking confused “why haven’t you healed it these are hardly anything” right as she finished her sentence from Rio’s other arm and behind the fabric of her cloak hopped the tiny bunny landing straight in Agatha’s lap. “Well now you’ve ruined the surprise” Rio glared at the bunny making Agatha burst out laughing.

Rio pouted and crossed her arms over her chest “told you you’d make fun of me” she whined. Agatha’s laughter died down wiping a tear from her eye as she looked up at her wife who looked like an annoyed child, “I’m not making fun of you love he just took me by surprise” she giggled as she pulled her wife to sit next to her and started to pet the bunny who sat happily in her lap like nothing had happened, “and what pray tell made you take me home a sweet baby bunny?” She asked leaning over to press a kiss to Rio’s cheek.

Rio sighed leaning into her wife’s side, “well you haven’t let up about wanting a familiar recently and besides he found me not the other way around” she smiled reaching over to boop the bunny’s nose.

Agatha looked down lovingly at the bunny as she continued to pet him, “I was thinking more black cat or raven you know but hmmm I think I can train him up to be a scary bunny” Agatha cooed as she snuggled the bunny under her chin, not long after he kicked off his back feet jumping onto Agatha’s lap before further hopping down to the floor and flopping himself in front of the fireplace leaving Agatha with matching scratches on her arms, “te veo señor” Rio laughed and her and Agatha fell into each other giggling at the rabbits antics, “scratchy little thing” Agatha said examining her and her wife’s arms before looking back at the rabbit clearly making himself at home, “that’s what I’ll call you” she said placing a kiss to that back of Rio’s hand, “Señor Scratchy” she said looking into her wife’s eyes “thank you my angel” she said softly before leaning in and connecting their lips in a soft kiss, when they parted Rio started placing kisses on Agatha’s arm, “now let me fix the little devil’s marks” she smirked at her wife before starting to gently lick at the superficial wounds, “I missed you amor” she sighed against her skin, “I missed you too angel” Agatha said gently kissing her wife’s head.

Their perfect little family was almost complete.

[d-z20]

The Ballad of Agatha Harkness Chapter 13.5 (18+, NSFW)

Summary: Death comes for everyone. Except this time, Agatha cums for Death

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, knife play

Words: 1.8k

A/N: As always, this chapter doesn't develop the plot and can be skipped if you don't want to read smut. I Was supposed to post this last night oops, but soft Agathario incoming next chapter it's what they deserve

AO3 link | Master List

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She Who Comes For Death

The firelight danced across the room, its warm glow flickering over Rio and Agatha as the air between them crackled with unspoken promises. Neither moved at first, caught in the gravity of their shared confession. Then, as if pulled by an invisible force, Agatha tugged Rio closer, her hands slipping from Rio’s face to thread through her hair. Their lips collided again, but this time, the kiss wasn’t messy or desperate. It was charged—an eruption of every emotion they’d been too afraid to voice.

Rio’s cloak slipped from her shoulders, forgotten as Agatha pressed her back against the edge of the table. They moved with an urgency that made the world beyond the walls of the cottage blur into nothingness. Hands roamed freely, grasping, pulling, exploring with a renewed intensity. Agatha’s fingers curled into Rio’s shirt, pulling her closer as their bodies pressed together, heat radiating between them.

"You are not about towalk away after confessing something like that?" Agatha murmured against Rio’s lips, her tone low and teasing, though her voice trembled slightly. She nipped at Rio’s bottom lip, her smirk a challenge.

Rio’s dark eyes gleamed, the firelight reflecting in them like twin embers. “Who said I was walking away?” she countered, her voice rough and breathless. “You think you can handle me now that you know the truth?”

Agatha’s response was to push Rio back, reclaiming control as her hands found purchase at the edges of her tunic, tugging it upward. Rio caught her wrists mid-motion, spinning them around so that Agatha’s back hit the wall instead. Her lips trailed down Agatha’s neck, peppering kisses along her pulse point with a deliberate slowness that made Agatha shiver despite herself.

“You’re infuriating,” Agatha gasped, even as her fingers tangled in Rio’s hair to pull her closer. “Always have to be in charge, don’t you?”

Rio’s lips curved into a wicked grin against her skin. “If you want to be in control… you can be,” she murmured, her voice a challenge, before biting down gently on the curve of her collarbone.

The tug-of-war between them escalated. Agatha wasn’t one to back down, her nails raking across Rio’s shoulders as she found her footing and pushed forward, reversing their positions once again. The table creaked beneath their weight as they leaned into each other, laughter bubbling up between stolen kisses, the sound raw and intoxicating. They moved as though testing the boundaries of who would yield first, each one refusing to give the other the satisfaction of surrender.

The room was filled with the sound of gasps and whispered names, their movements synchronizing as the frantic energy shifted into something deeper, more profound. There was a reverence to the way they touched now, each caress deliberate, each kiss carrying the weight of all the things they had been too afraid to say. Rio’s hands roamed down Agatha’s back, finding the sensitive spots that made her gasp and arch against her, while Agatha’s lips claimed a path across Rio’s jawline, her teeth scraping lightly against the shell of her ear.

“Tell me you’re mine,” Agatha demanded, her voice rough with need, as her hands gripped Rio’s hips.

Rio let out a shaky laugh, her breath catching as Agatha’s nails dragged lightly across her skin. “I’m yours, my love. I’ve been yours,” she admitted, her voice cracking with raw honesty. “Longer than you’ll ever know.”

The tension broke like a dam, and they melted into each other, their playful battle for dominance giving way to something more tender and vulnerable. They moved as though the world outside didn’t exist, as though this moment was all that mattered. The firelight danced over their entwined bodies, highlighting the curve of Rio’s shoulder, their shadows merging into one on the walls.

Rio’s breath was heavy as she pulled back slightly, her dark eyes meeting Agatha’s with a predatory glint. Before Agatha could react, Rio’s hands gripped her thighs firmly, lifting her with an effortless strength that sent a thrill racing through her. Agatha found herself laid back on the sturdy wooden table, the cool surface a sharp contrast to the warmth between them. Her legs instinctively wrapped around Rio’s hips, pulling her closer, but Rio held her ground, teasingly staying just out of reach.

A wicked smile curved Rio’s lips as she reached to her belt and withdrew her knife, its polished edge gleaming in the firelight. Agatha’s breath hitched as Rio ran the flat of the blade along the seam of her clothes, her touch both dangerous and exhilarating. “Don’t flinch now,” Rio murmured, her tone low and teasing, the blade pausing just above Agatha’s heaving chest. “I’d hate to ruin something so precious.”

Agatha arched an eyebrow, her voice steady despite the racing of her heart. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Rio chuckled darkly, her confidence unshaken. “Wouldn’t I?” she taunted, the tip of the blade tracing a careful line down the fabric, parting it with practiced ease. With a quick flick of her wrist, the cloth fell away, baring Agatha’s skin to the cool air and the intense scrutiny of Rio’s gaze.

Agatha shivered, but not from the chill. Her body burned under Rio’s eyes, and when Rio leaned down, her lips brushed against the newly exposed skin, a tantalizing mix of soft kisses and sharp bites that made Agatha gasp and writhe beneath her. Rio worked her way down slowly, savoring every inch of skin, her hands roaming over Agatha’s body with equal parts reverence and possession.

Rio’s lips curled into a devilish grin as Agatha squirmed beneath her, her breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps. The firelight gleamed off the blade in Rio’s hand as she dragged its flat edge down Agatha’s torso, the cool metal drawing a sharp gasp from her.

“Sensitive, are we?” Rio teased, her voice dripping with amusement as the blade skimmed over the curve of Agatha’s hip. She paused, letting the tip linger just above Agatha’s waistband, her other hand splayed possessively on Agatha’s thigh.

“Keep playing with fire, Rio,” Agatha shot back, her tone steady but her body betraying her, arching into the tantalizing sensation. “You’re going to get burned.”

Rio chuckled low, a sound that was as dangerous as it was seductive. “Oh, darling,” she murmured, leaning down to press her lips against the hollow of Agatha’s throat, her teeth grazing the tender skin. “I think we both know I’m the one holding the blade.”

Agatha’s retort caught in her throat as Rio’s lips and teeth worked their way down her neck, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. Her free hand roamed upward, rough fingers brushing against the barest edge of her ribs, teasing but never quite giving her what she wanted. The blade traced a slow, deliberate path along her side, its coolness a stark contrast to the fire igniting wherever Rio touched.

“Do you trust me?” Rio whispered against her skin, her voice soft but carrying the weight of the question.

Agatha’s eyes met hers, challenging yet filled with something deeper. “You’re insufferable,” she quipped, though her voice wavered slightly. “But yes.”

That was all Rio needed. Her grin widened, and she let the knife slide just under the waistband of what little fabric remained. With a practiced flick, the blade did its work, leaving Agatha exposed and utterly at Rio’s mercy. The firelight caught on the edge of the blade as Rio held it up, tilting it so Agatha could see her own reflection in its polished surface.

“Beautiful,” Rio said softly, though whether she meant the blade or the woman beneath her was anyone’s guess.

Agatha shivered under Rio’s intense gaze, but she wasn’t about to let her captor win so easily. “Are you going to keep staring, or do you plan to actually do something?”

“Oh, I plan to do plenty,” Rio replied, her tone a mix of promise and mischief. She dragged the blade over the woman beneath her, digging the tip in just enough to draw a drop of blood. Her lips followed, healing the wounds, leaving no inch of skin neglected. She kissed and bit her way down, savoring the way Agatha’s body writhed and arched beneath her, each gasp and moan a victory.

Rio looked up through hooded eyes to gaze at Agatha, whose body trembled with arousal, rressing a soft kiss to the brunette’s pelvis. The sudden change caused a moan to sound from the back of Agatha’s throat who threw her head back as she tangled her hands in Rio’s hair. “You better start doing it then, darling.”

With a low chuckle, Rio brought her lips to Agatha’s heat quickly swiping her tongue through the slick folds. It was Rio’s turn to moan now. She started with soft licks, teasing Agatha more and more until she was dripping on the table, but soon enough Rio lost her composure and pushed her face further into Agatha. 

Just as Rio started to focus on her clit, Agtha felt the cold blade of the knife against her neck. 

“My love, you need to look at me while I fuck you,” Rio growled, her face pulled back ever so slightly.

Agatha obliged and held her gaze. She was rewarded when Rio suddenly thrusted three fingers inside of her and she moaned as the pain mixed with pleasure, but still she held her gaze.

Rio was relentless with her ministrations; pumping her fingers in and out, curling them into Agatha’s walls, her mouth never leaving Agatha’s pussy. Rio didn’t notice herself pressing the knife harder into Agatha’s throat as she lost herself in the heta of the moment.

When Agatha finally broke, her back arching off the table, her hands clutching at Rio’s shoulders, the sound she made was raw and unrestrained. Rio held her through it, her lips and hands coaxing every last ounce of pleasure from her until Agatha lay trembling, her body spent but her spirit still sparking with defiance.

Panting, Agatha managed to smirk up at her. “You think you’ve won, don’t you?”

Rio grinned, her own breath coming in shallow bursts. She reached for the knife again, letting it rest lightly against Agatha’s collarbone, a silent reminder of her control. “Won?” she echoed, leaning down to press her forehead against Agatha’s. “Darling, this isn’t a battle—it’s a conquest.”

Agatha chuckled, her laughter breathless and tinged with exhaustion. “You’re insufferable.”

“And you love it,” Rio countered, pressing a kiss to the corner of her lips before letting the knife clatter to the side. She pulled Agatha off the table and onto the floor, the firelight flickering softly around them.

For a moment, neither spoke. They simply lay there, their breathing slowly evening out, their hearts still pounding in sync. Finally, Rio broke the silence, her voice softer now, almost tender. “You make surrender feel like victory.”

Agatha smiled, her fingers tracing six letters along Rio’s back. “And you make domination feel like trust.”

M-Y-L-O-V-E

They stayed like that, entwined in each other’s arms, the fire casting long shadows on the walls as the night stretched on, leaving the world outside to wait.

Next Chapter >

[cabinetofquriosities]

Omg someone make this and tag me

"The Proposal" AU fic where Agatha is Margaret and Rio is Andrew with appearances from the rest of the Coven of Chaos? 🥴

[grilledcheeseandguavajelly]

Mine Nightmare | Part One: Birth - Agatha Harkness x Rio Vidal

Summary: Moments, between everything else. Agatha, between everything else. And now, maybe, three of them. Together. Family. 

Word Count: ~2,800

Contains: canon divergence, angst, pregnancy, sad fluff (if that's a thing??), and a lot of soft feelings about Rio

A/N: I sat down to attempt to process episode nine, and this came out instead. Enjoy xx

Read on Ao3

Rio carded careful fingers through Agatha’s hair, brushing stray pieces from her forehead when they fell. 

She was laying with her head in Rio’s lap, curled on her side on the mossy forest floor. Fingers twined together. Safe. 

Rio had been careful to lay the moss down for her. Any bit of padding to make it easier at this stage. 

A soft gasp, and then Agatha was shifting, guiding Rio’s hand over her stomach and pressing her palm flat into skin. A tiny foot pressed against her, no bigger than the heel of her hand, and she pulled her fingers away reflexively. But Agatha was right there, chuckling softly as she smoothed Rio’s hand back down, held her steady against the tiny bumping thing. 

“You can’t hurt him,” she murmured, fingers drifting softly over the back of Rio’s hand. Back and forth, back and forth. 

Rio let her eyes flutter shut, leaning forward and burying her nose in Agatha’s hair. Just for a second. Just for this one moment. 

It was safe, of course. Agatha was the barrier between her and all things. And Agatha was protecting her unborn child from Rio even now, her skin a shield against Death’s touch. Rio didn’t know why she could touch Agatha without any repercussions. She only remembered that first time— Agatha grabbing desperately for her hand through the mess of tears, barely a woman, splitting open at the seams as she sobbed because she hadn’t meant to. She hadn’t meant any of it. Again. Rio had ripped her hand away lightning fast, watching Agatha’s face in horror and waiting for the skin to pale and crack and dissolve away. But it hadn’t. Her cheeks were flushed red, tears streaking and marring the perfect blue of her eyes. Her lips had been swollen, sticky with tears, chin wobbling. And then, she had reached for Rio again. 

Rio could still smell the fern and wet dirt, the stench of death that hung in the air. She could still hear the tiniest hitch of breath as Agatha left her hand there, shaking, suspended. The way she stiffened as Rio stepped towards her, like she wanted to run but wouldn’t. And the feel of her— so warm. So, so soft. 

Fingers had skated hesitantly along skin, and Rio hadn’t been able to tell if it was Agatha that was trembling or if it was her. But she watched ice blue eyes as she touched, waiting, waiting, waiting. When nothing happened, she let herself look down. Agatha’s fingers were twitching under her touch, and Rio reached up with her other hand to steady her. Held her still in her grip as her thumbs traced the lines of her palm. She took a shaking breath, shifting them up to the vulnerable skin on the inside of her wrist. Agatha had let out the most delicious sound, tipping her head back, and Rio glanced up at her for the briefest moment — just to make sure — before pressing her thumb against her pulse point. Thrumming, into her skin. Vibrating into her very soul. Life, in her hands. Beating on. 

“You’re a miracle,” Rio had breathed, almost without thinking. Except she meant it. When Agatha pulled away and muttered something about her mother, Rio had grabbed her by the shoulders and pressed their foreheads together, instantly and dangerously comfortable touching her. She had slid her hands up Agatha’s neck slowly, cupping her face and forcing her eyes up. “You are a miracle, Agatha.” 

And now, here she was. Proving Rio right again. 

Another small kick, and Agatha winced against a chuckle, shifting slightly. “I think he likes you.” 

She turned her head to look up at Rio, and the smile tugging at the corner of her lips was the only thing that stopped the words from tumbling from Rio’s mouth on instinct. 

He shouldn’t. 

Instead, she managed her own smile, borderline a smirk, and pushed a curl from Agatha’s face. “How do you know it’s a boy, hm? There’s every chance there’s a little girl in there, just as powerful as you.” 

“She wishes,” Agatha scoffed, rolling her eyes playfully. But then she was wincing again, and Rio helped the best she could as she rolled fully onto her back. Hands over her stomach, grown infinitely larger than when Rio had seen her last, tugging at Rio’s fingers and playing with them mindlessly. 

These moments — so, so rare — were what Rio lived for. Or rather, what made her life worth living. She hadn’t thought much about her actual life aside from her work and responsibilities. Not until she had met Agatha. Because she hadn’t known much about life until she had met Agatha. Until she had heard Agatha’s laugh for the first time. Until Agatha had cooked her a meal. Until Agatha had dragged her through a small little village, cackling and dodging people and practically skipping as they headed for the field just over the hill. 

Moments, between everything else. Agatha, between everything else. And now, maybe, three of them. Together. 

Family. 

“I’m just…” Agatha murmured, eyes staring past Rio and up into the canopy of trees. Her fingers twitched over Rio’s palm. 

“Just what, my love?” 

A long, steadying breath. “I’m terrified. Of having to do all of it alone.” 

But of course, all good things had to come to an end. 

Rio swallowed hard, rejection burning up her throat. It was a relatively new sensation, carefully crafted by Agatha’s existence. “And what if you didn’t have to do it alone...?” 

Agatha visibly startled beneath her, shifting her gaze back to Rio’s face. Realization seemed to strike in the same moment. “No, no— not— I only meant…” She huffed out a breath. After all of these years, Rio still found it too endearing that she was seemingly the only person who could fluster her. “I meant the hard part.” 

The hard part. Creation. Birth. Rio could do it with the snap of her fingers. 

“It won’t be as difficult as you think,” Rio said softly. As if to prove her point, she grabbed Agatha’s hand, conjuring a carnation between her fingers and placing it in Agatha’s palm. 

The smile she got in reward was beaming. 

“Now, you tell him to come out that easily.” 

“Her,” Rio corrected, pulling the flower from Agatha’s hand and balancing it atop her stomach. “And she knows not to give you any trouble, else I’m coming for her.” 

Her wide smirk and raised brow made Agatha toss her head back in a full laugh, and then, before Rio knew what was happening, a warm kiss was pressed to her cheek. She flushed, despite herself. 

They sat in silence for a long moment, Agatha’s fingers tracing the petals of the flower and Rio’s hand smoothing over stretch marks just blossoming. Back and forth, back and forth. 

“You know,” Rio said softly, loathe to break the silence, “you’ll only have to do the first bit alone.” 

Agatha nodded, shifting closer. “I know. I just wish you could be there. He’s yours, too.” 

“I’ll be there for the rest of it,” Rio murmured, pressing a kiss to Agatha’s forehead. “And she will be loved more than any child could dream. And safe. I promise.” 

—————— ⋆˖⁺‧ ☾ ‧⁺˖⋆ ——————

Rio skimmed her hand over the old woman’s cheek, ice and stone beneath her touch. And then, she woke. 

“Come,” Rio said gently, reaching for her hand. “It’s time to go.” 

The woman’s brow furrowed, then immediately rose. “No. No— My grandchildren, my daughter… I need more time.” 

“You’ve had plenty,” Rio said, reaching further. “Come.” 

The woman walked slowly, and Rio walked with her. Through the trees, through the woods. Through the memories that flowed like a gentle breeze around them. She had lived a full life. Rio smiled. 

And then, a tug. 

Rio ignored it. She wasn’t finished with this one yet. But before she had taken two more steps, it tugged again, harder this time. Rio stuttered, and the old woman stopped beside her. 

“No,” Rio said softly, shaking her head. “You go ahead. Keep walking. I have something to attend to.” 

She seemed to understand, wise and worldly after all of those years. Most of the older women were. There was something about aging that seemed to breed thoughts of death. Rio had never understood it— the balance was even. She walked just as many children across as she did adults. 

Rio pulled out her knife, digging hard into the folds of spacetime and dragging down. She held the edge of the curtain open for the woman, prompting her through. “Keep walking. Your mother is waiting for you at the end.” 

Once the woman had disappeared, she stitched the seam shut again. 

The tug was burning now, and she walked quickly as she followed it. A few miles down the path, she heard it. 

A woman’s cries. 

They grew louder as she drew nearer, more and more frequent and rising in pitch. She was closing in through the thick of trees when the woman gasped. 

Rio stopped. 

A groan, a huffed breath. An anguished cry. 

There was the proof that Rio had a heart— the way it seized in her chest, ice splintering through her veins and feet rooted to the ground. A hot tear dropped onto her cheek, and Rio startled, swiping it away. She stared down at her fingers, glistening in the sunlight streaming through the trees. 

Moments, between the living. Moments, between the dead. Moments with Agatha, safe. Moments with— 

Another cry, this one more visceral than the last. It came through gritted teeth. Rio didn’t even need to see her to know. She had sounded the exact same so many years ago, when a witch hunter had managed to strike her in the side, just under her ribs. Rio had methodically stitched her up then, careful not to touch the wound, just in case. Agatha had laughed, straightening and rolling her neck out as Rio hauled the soul up by his collar and shoved him through the door. Agatha had walked no more than twenty feet before she started panting, and Rio had picked her up easily and carried her back to their camp. Agatha kept their fingers twined together the entire night. 

“Please,” Agatha ground out, voice drifting through the still woods. “You’re okay, just— please.” 

Rio closed her eyes, licking her lips slowly as she listened to Agatha panting, all that way away. She reached for the tug, for the invisible string pulling her to someone else’s fate. As long as it wasn’t Agatha. As long as it wasn’t Agatha. 

The child’s cries were distorted, muffled and swimming, just as everyone’s last words were. They urged her forward, and she found herself swaying up on her toes before she could stop it. She snapped her eyes open, forcing her heels back down into dirt. 

No. 

No. 

It was the one thing she couldn’t do. Because it wasn’t Agatha, not really. Except he was. In every way that mattered, he was. 

He.  

She could feel it now, the life waning inside of Agatha. The stretch and pull as it tried to fight the string winding tighter between them. He was definitely male. Agatha had been right. 

The child’s cries grew louder, searing in Rio’s mind. Rattling in her teeth, making acid pool in her mouth. She dug her heels harder into the soil beneath her, and the earth tilted on its axis. The trees swayed sideways, creaking against the force of gravity. The force of her. The balance of life was fighting against her. 

No. 

She was fighting against it. 

A ringing started in her ears, morphing the child’s cries to shrieks of agony, demonic screeching as she felt reality start to shake around her. 

She had to do it. If she kept fighting… it felt as if the world was coming apart at the seams. Natural order had to be maintained. 

There was a certain curiosity that bloomed, under all of the pain and gripping into the present, because she had never actually done this before. It was the reason for her creation, it was the reason for her existence. She had never actually taken the time to question what would happen if she refused. 

People had begged her. Of course they had. But she had never once hesitated. 

Limbs snapped off of a tree, hitting the ground and shaking it with the force of the gods that came before her. A flock of birds, scattered. Agatha’s cries blending with the shrieking of the crows. 

Rio set her jaw and forced herself to step closer. One foot, another. With each step, the world righted and reality settled. So she kept stepping, again and again, until she reached the small clearing at the edge of a lake. She could see Agatha now, sweaty and matted, hair sticking to her face. She was cradling her stomach, cradling the baby, legs spread wide as she crouched against a tree. 

“Please,” she panted, sniffing against sobs. “Please…” 

One last breath. For Rio. For him. She would gift him one more. A split second decision, and she formed an orchid in her hand. Something for Agatha. A life for a life. 

She rounded the tree with her heart pounding somewhere in her throat, legs trembling as she forced herself forward. Agatha sensed her before she came into view, head whipping up and eyes wide. She looked around frantically, and Rio took the final step out into the clearing. Eyes met. The earth tilted again. 

It was the first time that Agatha had ever looked at her in fear. 

“No,” she choked out, hands gripped protectively across her stomach. She licked her lips, shaking her head. “No.“ 

“Agatha,” Rio said softly, taking another step closer. Fidgeting with the flower. 

“I said no!” Agatha shouted, and Rio actually faltered. 

“It has to be done,” she tried, bracing herself against the yanking deep in her stomach. He was waiting for her. He was ready. 

Agatha shook her head again, more violently. “It doesn’t. Don’t do this. Please.” 

“I have to—“ 

“Please! Let him live. My love—“ Her voice broke on the last word, sobs wracking through her. “Don’t do this. Please… I need him. I need…” 

Rio’s fingers twitched around the orchid, cold petals a weak replacement for skin. The last time Agatha had cried like this, Rio had felt a heartbeat for the first time. The last time Agatha had cried like this… she had given Rio everything. 

She felt the fabric of fate shifting around her before she even knew what she was doing. The flower fell from her fingers. Agatha gasped, clutching at her stomach. 

“I can give you time,” Rio said, as gently as she could. Unwinding that thread. Unwinding. “Time, Agatha. But eventually… I will have to come back for him.” 

Agatha’s eyes snapped up to hers, the word hanging between them. Him. Something like hope flickered over her features, and Rio couldn’t bear to watch it shatter. So she turned away. 

“How much time?” 

The question was desperate— a plea from a mother for her unborn child. When Rio turned back, Agatha had her eyes squeezed shut. 

She couldn’t answer it. She didn’t even fully know. He would tell her when he was ready. Until then… maybe she could grant Agatha a fraction of what she had gifted her. 

When Agatha opened her eyes again, Rio was lost in the thick of the woods, watching carefully between the leaves as Agatha created life right before her eyes. Her miracle, creating another miracle. 

“…no spell or incantation. You… you were made from scratch.” 

Rio smiled, despite everything, another hot tear falling. She didn’t catch it that time. She simply watched— watched Agatha cradle her child in her arms. Watched her lean down and press their foreheads together. Watched the way his little feet kicked against her palm. 

She felt the ghost of reverberations in her own palm. A happy memory. 

Maybe, if she was lucky, she would get to know him one day. Maybe, she would get to experience moments of his life firsthand, instead of through the sea of memories as she walked him safely to the other side. Maybe, in some way, they could actually be a fraction of a family. 

The tug, again. String pulled taut. Rio grasped at it, yanking it free from herself with a shocked cry. She had been expecting pain, tearing at fate like that. But there was only relief. A stay of execution, filling her lungs like the first breath after drowning. 

She watched the baby, curled together with his mother in the peaceful quiet of the woods, winding his life force between careful fingers. Brushing her thumb against that string in time with the rise and fall of his chest. Back and forth, back and forth. Holding him, the only way she would ever be able to. 

Maybe, one day, Agatha would forgive her. 

“My perfect boy,” Agatha murmured, voice shaking with tears. “What shall we call you, hm?” 

The baby cooed. Agatha smiled. 

The string slipped through Rio’s fingers. 

“I’ll be there for the rest of it, and he will be loved more than any child could dream. And safe. I promise.”