#she looks at rio and then looks away so quickly because there was too much in that gaze

[ennn]

Hello :) I really enjoy reading your analysis on AAA!

What conversations do you think Agatha and Rio had between “because the truth is too awful “ and “what Billy wants is a violation”?

The shift between topics was so abrupt. What would they talk about to make Agatha want to make a deal to never see Rio again?

Hello Anon! Thank you for reading 💚 Okay so I think there's 2 parts to your question here, which is (a) why the change in topics between the conversation and (b) how it leads up to Agatha's deal.

Let's take a step back a bit. If we look at the first conversation, it already starts out about the Problem of Billy right?

And the whole Billy issue only exists in the context of what happened with Nicky. If Nicky had never been a thing, Agatha and Rio and their dynamic would be entirely different. Nicky was the breaking point of their relationship – a relationship with love and lust but also wrapped up in their opposing natures.

The conversation quickly escalates, shifting from Billy to their history and relationship. Rio, direct as ever, airs what must be a long-long-simmering grievance:

Rio: No one in history has had special treatment like you. Agatha: You call what you did "special treatment"? You gave me nothing. You took. Rio: And that's usually your move right.

Now the anger and frustration is starting to boil and Agatha tries to push past and get away from Rio – but Rio stops her and tries to deescalate this argument.

In other words – and to address your ask – the topic shifts because Rio is trying to have a conversation and not fight. Rio knows that Nicky is Agatha's deepest scar, and Agatha is a runner when she doesn't have control.

You can see Rio taking a second, watching Agatha, her tone softening as she asks the question:

Why do you let them believe those things about you, hm? About Nicky?

I think Rio tries to deescalate because she does need Agatha's help with the Billy situation: she can't kill him or reap his soul on her own. It's not a thing Rio is happy about or wants but she's got a job to do.

BUT in this show things are usually complicated: more than one thing can be true at the same time: I think Rio also cares about Agatha and wants to understand why.

After all it was Rio who told the group in episode 5 that Agatha killed her original coven because they tried killing her first. Agatha doesn't bother defending herself, if anything she plays up being this villain.

I mean, Rio loves this serial killer right. It's not the murder part of Agatha's reputation Rio cares about. Rio also has the unique insight of knowing exactly what happened to Nicky. This rumour that Agatha doesn't do anything to discourage seems to not only be an insult to Agatha but the memory of Nicky.

And then in a rare moment of vulnerability, Agatha decides to reveal her truth to Rio.

Because the truth is too awful

I read this moment as Rio trying to reach out and Agatha deciding to give an honest answer. Which again, is a precious rare thing coming from her.

I don’t think any transitional dialogue from this to the other conversation is really important, not as much as the emotional place this first conversation ends with, which allows for the second one about a potential collaboration to happen.

Also like, what do you say to something like that? Because wow there is a lot to unpack there.

Agatha’s implying that what Rio gave her and Nicky is worse than her sacrificing Nicky for power. That she isn’t trying to be cruel, she truly can’t see the gift of time Rio gave them. That she sees herself somehow responsible for what happened to Nicky. That she doesn’t just blame Rio, she blames herself.

If I had to plot out some kind of transition between these two conversations, I would do something like:

Let the silence after the admission drag on a bit. Rio looks concerned but doesn't say anything in the moment.

Agatha takes the opportunity to walk away. Rio doesn't stop her but follows. Agatha lets her.

After a moment of quiet walking, Agatha asks about when Rio knew about the Road hex and they compare notes for a bit (Rio probably throwing shade at the weird nature here). This time lets Agatha build up her walls again.

They sit down and talk about the point of the hex, which then nicely leads into their second conversation, starting with what Billy wants.

In their second conversation, what's interesting here how very reluctant Rio is about asking for Agatha's help. She knows Agatha and hates being in this position so much she doesn't even want to say it, letting Agatha piece together what she needs.

It must truly be a rare instance that Agatha has this kind of leverage over Rio, over Death.

Because Agatha reacts like a shark scenting blood in the water. She barely hides it.

This goes back to your question: Why does Agatha make such an deal that hurts Rio so badly?

My read is that Agatha basically reacts to this rush of power over Rio the same way she badly – almost instinctively – reacted to Alice presenting her with her magic:

She takes and takes and takes.

Because Rio's always been unstoppable but now Agatha can stop her. This is what's she's been hungering for.

That sense of helplessness she felt moments ago when she thought she had to let Billy go – like she let Nicky go – now turns to something with teeth.

You can see Agatha literally take a second to calculate the most cruel thing she can say to Rio to hurt her, to deny and reject her love.

Now that's the emotional side of things. On a more logical level, Agatha goes into scheming mode. This is like muscle memory for her at this point, she won't deny an opportunity to get ahead.

So she doesn't deny Rio's ask. She makes the price of her handing over Billy so awful to Rio it has maybe a chance of stopping her from her mission, or buying more time at least. For so much of her life Agatha has justified murder and lies and the worst behaviour with the need to survive and protect what's hers.

Once again: Calculated move, bad at math.

Because Rio accepts the deal. She's so wounded she doesn't even push back even a little. She reacts so badly to Agatha's rejection, to her taking advantage of this opportunity, that she gives into being the villain Agatha sees her as.

[ellastone-olsen]

SWEET FLOWER.

★Pairing: Rio Vidal x reader x Agatha Harkness

★Summary: porn without plot (I’m not sorry)

★Word count: 1.3k

★Warnings: NSFW 18+ dom/sub dynamics if you squint, petnames, orgasm control, some magic use, mommy kink, threesome, bites, aftercare

A/N: I haven't written anything for a VERY LONG time and after such a break this is all that came out. I love Agatha and Rio so much, my sweet buns, but sometimes my brain goes in the wrong direction.

DISCLAIMER: ENGLISH ISNT MY FIRST LANGUAGE

Sitting on Agatha's lap was probably the most pleasant pastime you could imagine. The scent of the older woman's heavy perfume filled everything around you and something inside you broke.

The little teasing had finally crossed the line, or at least her patience had run out. Either way, you didn't mind. Until you felt the green witch's arms around your waist and her nose buried in your hair, inhaling the scent of shampoo.

"Should we torture her?" a voice called from behind you. You were trapped between the bodies of two witches, Agatha's chuckle lost in the skin of your neck as she kissed and bit while Rio settled her hands on your hips. "I don't recall asking you to join," Agatha snapped. Their manner of communication had become so familiar that it was immediately clear that she was not serious.

Then Rio leaned down, forcing you to lie on top of the older woman so that she could reach her lips and unexpectedly pull Agatha into a kiss. As the women moved in tandem, ignoring you, your heart skipped a beat. You would be lying if you said it wasn't the most mesmerizing view of your life. Rio forced your aching center to press against Agatha's stomach and a sigh escaped your lips. The green witch chuckled through the kiss and took you in her arms, doing it again. Your head fell on Agatha's shoulder, and hands tightly gripped the back of the sofa, which you had been holding on to all this time.

“Oh god,” you whispered, which didn’t go unnoticed. Agatha broke the kiss, turning her head towards you and lifting your face up by the chin with two fingers. “What’s up pet? You want both of us? Is that driving you crazy?” Her taunt was driving you crazy, but she was right. You started to turn your head back to look at the green witch, but Agatha pulled you back, grabbing your face. “Answer me.” You tried to gather your thoughts, but instead a hiss came out as Rio’s teeth sank into your neck. “Fuck.” Your eyes closed and another throaty laugh reached your ears. “Such a greedy girl, you think you can take two at once?”

“I…I don’t.” Was all you could say before Rio’s hand found the area between your thighs, pressing through the fabric of your underwear to your entrance. “Sweet little thing, already soaking wet for us.” Another taunt. “Maybe if I do this she’ll talk faster?” That was definitely not the case, because the next thing Rio did was the one that completely destroyed your ability to think clearly. Her fingers pushed your underwear aside and ran through your wet folds, teasing your entrance again. You were clay in their hands, to be molded into anything they wanted.

Your hips moved and sought more contact, but Agatha lifted you higher, so that your breasts were level with her mouth. “Not so fast, baby.” Her lips wrapped around your nipple until her hand reached your swollen clit to rub small circles. “FUCK. Oh my god.” Rio’s lips were on your neck again,then on your shoulders, leaving love bites that were quickly turning red. “But it’s just us, sweetheart.” Another chuckle.

Their hands and lips seemed to be everywhere and your body was vibrating with need. Sobs left your mouth and beads of tears formed in the corners of your eyes from some of the particularly harsh bites both women were giving. “Oh look Agatha, we have too sensitive flower in our hands.” You finally turned your head and met Rio’s brown eyes. Out of nowhere, the flower she always carried appeared in her hand and she placed it behind your ear. Her thumb wiped away your tears and she leaned down to pull you into a slow, gentle kiss that was such a contrast to the bites she had just received. The woman didn’t let go even when your lungs ran out of air, it felt like she had been starving for centuries before connecting your lips.

Agatha's fingers pressed against your sensitive bud again at this time and you moaned into the green witch's mouth. "You never knew how to share." You understood what she was talking about when Agatha's hand turned your head again so that this time another witch could give you a hungry kiss. Hands grabbed and crumpled her jacket. Rio's fingers stroked your stomach, chest, hips, wherever she could reach, she laid her head on your shoulder and, collected your arousal between the folds and pushed two fingers inside, making you see stars. "Such a tight little pussy, huh?" You screamed and threw your head back on Rio's shoulder, Agatha was clearly not happy with the loss of contact and painfully bite your nipple, making you hiss again. "Such impudence will take a long time to work off, pet."

Rio's fingers moved in perfect rhythm, pressing into the soft spot inside each time, while Agatha played with your swollen clit. Your hips moved to their pace, wet sounds of arousal filling the room. "Oh fuck, yes yes please..." The witches looked at each other in silent dialogue, the green witch's other hand buried itself in your hair and pulled, forcing you to arch, and Agatha's mouth found your breast again. "What are you asking for, baby girl? Maybe if you say it right, we'll give it." Rio whispered in your ear, and then licked.

Your breath caught in your throat, panting from the fast pace and the good feeling. You wanted, no, you craved them to take you to the edge and it didn't matter how much you had to beg. These two were worth everything. Rio adjusted the flower that was threatening to fall out from behind your ear.

“We are waiting, pet." Agatha's hoarse voice interrupted your thoughts. Without hesitation, you asked. "Please." A painful bite remained on your collarbone. "Not right, try again." Their movements did’t stop, and you knew that you could not hold out for long. "Please, Agatha? Please, let me." You repeated the word like a broken record. Sharp nails dug into your thigh, lowering you onto the Rio’s fingers. "Wrong, sweet girl. Come on, say it. We know what you have in mind."

A thread of green magic enveloped your head, catching the necessary thought from your consciousness. Your eyes widened. Your misty gaze studied Agatha's face, her lips stretched into a smile and her teeth bit her lower lip. "Come on, pet. Don't upset us." Again a hoarse whisper in your ear. The knot in your stomach tightened with each movement of the women's hands. "Please.. mommy?" You shook your head looking at the women in turn. "Mommy please." You addressed them both. Then Rio made a rougher push. "That's it, darling." Her hand lay on your cheek and turned your head so that you looked only at Agatha. Gray eyes burned with mockery, and the woman said "Let it go" with her lips.

Your thighs tensed and shook, the orgasm covered you in a giant wave, your walls squeezed around Rio's fingers, and Agatha continued to draw circles on your swollen clit, prolonging the pleasure. Pornographic screams came out of your mouth, and you were not ashamed.

When you calmed down, Rio pulled out and brought her hand to your face. Your arousal flowed down her palm. "Mmm, our flower did so well, look, sweetheart." Agatha ran her fingers through your disheveled hair and stroked the top of your head. "Absolutely." There was no trace left of the previous cruelty and both women left small kisses on your body, apologizing for the previous bites. You relaxed and lay completely on Agatha, burying your nose in fluffy hair. "Thank you," Rio plucked the flower from your hair and tucked it behind Agatha's ear. "Honey, don't you think this is the end?”

[heartzfromel]

Rio x fem!reader (fluff and/or hurt comfort plz)

not good enough || rio vidal x fem!reader

summary; you meet your love again after one hundred years

warnings; agatha all along ep 7 spoilers, canon character death, reader has a small injury, kissing, pining, reader and rio are both kinda idiots, rio and reader are both touchy w each other, main story set after first witches road trial, rio and agatha are not romantically involved

rio vidal had been the only constant friend you’d had in your whole life, but your situation was quite complicated. you were a centuries old witch and, whist technically she was too, she was also death personified, meaning she had a lot of work to do. your friend wasn’t around much, leaving you alone a lot. sometimes you wouldn’t see her for sixty or seventy years at a time. this time, it had been a lot longer than that. that fact tended to leave a pit in your stomach, especially considering your last interaction.

1924

you were sitting in your cabin, your best friend lying next to you, the pair of you giggling into the night, until you were both facing each other. it was very clear that the energy had shifted from lighthearted fun, to something else entirely. in all honesty, it sort of made you feel uneasy, but then again everything rio ever did brought up that feeling. it made most people withdraw from her company, but it only intrigued you more.

currently, her eyes were fixed on yours. you held her gaze. it was clear she was fighting with herself internally to keep her eyes off of your lips, but after a few moments of tension-filled silence, she gave in, her eyes darting to your cherry red lips for only a split second, before you licked them and her eyes darted back up to meet yours once again. it was now that you had realised the position that you had been laying in, your hand lazily on her waist whilst hers rested on top wearily. you moved your hand up, with an uncertain energy, as if one wrong move would ruin what was happening. you moved your hand up to her neck, rubbing it gently, and then up to her face as you caressed it gently. her hand has moved more confidently on to your waist, as she squeezed it lightly. you had hoped she hadn’t caught your breath hitch, but the ghost of a smirk on her face told you that she absolutely had. you could feel her breath, hot and shaky on your face. your hand moved to play with her hair, and with a final burst of confidence, you leaned in to kiss her. just as your lips met hers, you were apart again. she moved her hands from you quickly and jolted to sit up in bed. you looked at her again, but the expression on her face was not one you were familiar with.

“rio, i’m sorry-“ you began. what had you just done?

“i have to go.” she whispered, and just like that it was almost as if she were never there.

2026

it was today that your lovely acquaintance, agatha harkness, had decided to make herself your problem as she practically forced you down the witches road. you didn’t really know why you’d shown up, considering the last time you walked the road together she almost you you slashed into a million pieces, but you went along anyway. when you arrived at her extremely un-agatha like house, you were met with a ragtag group of witches and one random lady that you were sure that the rest of the coven had also noticed. unfortunately the woman had passed away during your first trial, and you were left angrier at agatha than you were before, because she could’ve got you all killed by not drinking that wine. you were ready to force it down her throat at one point.

one of the witches, a tall woman dressed head to toe in pink, had suggested summoning a green witch to the road, since they didn’t actually have one. none of you seemed against the idea, and so that’s exactly what you did. had you known what was going to happen mere moments later, you’d have an entirely different opinion.

agatha’s coven all stood still anticipating the arrival of the new green witch, you were a bit less interested, just wanting to leave, and so were not fully paying attention until a single hand shot up from under the ground. a hand that, embarrassingly, you still recognised. the pit that formed in your stomach was one you’d never felt, and it got so much worse when her full figure came into view. she hadn’t aged a day, well she had, she’s aged over a hundred years, but she still looked exactly the same as she did that night in the cabin. as she introduced herself, you hid yourself from view behind the lady dressed in pink, jen, who you’d decided was the only tolerable one here, but it was no use. she had seen you.

“y/n…” she smirked. this earned looks from the whole coven, considering her dramatic entrance.

“i have to go.”

you felt ill as you turned your heel and walked swiftly in the other direction. “maybe this is my trial?” you thought hopefully, praying that you’d turn around and the coven would all be dressed in hideous outfits that the road had picked out for them, but no, when you turned around, you were met by the hypnotic gaze of rio.

“y/n…” she began, “been a while.”

“don’t.” you snapped, “don’t even try.”

“what’s the problem?” she asked, feigning innocence.

“what’s the problem? rio its been over a hundred years.” you spat, malice dripping from your tone. she seemed to enjoy it.

“i’ve been… busy.” she replied playfully.

you didn’t respond.

carefully, she waded over to you, placing a hand on your lower back and using the other to grab your face to look at her.

not breaking eye contact, she brought her hand down to your collarbone, dragging her fingertips along a gash that you’d received from broken glass in the trial. you shuddered at the coldness of her touch. it brought you back to that night, because the only time you’d ever felt her heat up, was when your hand was on her face in the cabin.

her eyes met yours once again and she smiled gently, the same smile she’d smiled all those years ago, before leaning into you.

“rio.” you mumbled, stopping her. you looked up at her with conflicted eyes.

“come on,” she whispered, “look me in the eyes and tell me you feel nothing for me.”

“well clearly that’s not the case, rio, is it?” you spat, fighting the tears that were threatening to spill.

“so what’s the problem?” she asked, both hands now on your face.

“you shut me down the last time, remember?” you spoke, trying your best to drill into her head what she had done to you. “and then you think if you show up here a hundred years later and give me a kiss it’s all gonna be okay?”

“do you know why i left that night?” she whispered, dragging a cold hand into your hair, your eyes threatening to close at her action.

“oh, please, lady death, enlighten me! why did you leave me for a hundred years?” you asked, sarcasm lacing your tone. you caught her slight demeanor change at the use of her title, but it faded quickly.

“i was scared.”

and you couldn’t help but let yourself laugh humourlessly in her face.

“of what, rio, tell me what you were so scared of.”

“that i was’t good enough for you.” she replied, talking to the floor.

“don’t, you’ll set me off again.” wiping tears of laughter from your flushed cheeks.

she didn’t say anything.

“oh.” was all you could muster, “you’re serious?”

she could only nod.

subconsciously your hands wrapped around her waist, before they traveled up to her face.

“well you’re wrong.” you whispered, as she leaned into your touch.

“am i?” she asked, being more serious than you’d ever saw her.

“please, trust me, you’re the only one good enough for me, rio.” you replied, eyes never leaving hers.

“is that right?” she smirked, her confident demeanour reappearing.

“would i have said it if it wasn’t?” you smiled.

“so are you gonna let me kiss you now, or…” rio smirked, one hand grabbing at your waist, the other fidgeting with a strand of your hair.

“come here, you idiot.” you giggled, as you pulled her closer to you, and she grabbed your face to close the gap between you. kissing rio was a difficult feeling to describe, the best way you could would be to say that it’d be the same feeling you’d experience if you set foot in antarctica with no jacket, but it didn’t bother you, as long as you could do this again.

[covenofagatha]

Birthday Girl

On your 21st birthday, your friends drag you to a bar to get wasted when you decide it's a good idea to drunk-call Professor Agatha Harkness.

Word count: 3400+

Warnings: smut, fingering, oral, intoxication, mentions of underage drinking, teacher x student (legal)

“One, two, three!” Wanda chants and you and your friends tap your shot glasses on the bar counter and quickly down them. 

You gasp at the burn and they laugh at you. It’s your 21st birthday and your best friends Wanda, Rio, and Natasha had dragged you out to the closest bar to get you wasted. They had all already turned 21 the year before; you were the baby in the group. 

“Fuck, that’s disgusting,” you groan. 

“Another round, please!” Rio motions to the bartender. He sets down four more tequila shots and one is shoved into your hand. 

“Think you can get to 21?” Wanda jokes and the thought of 20 more shots makes you want to gag. 

“I might puke after this one,” you say and your friends laugh. You were never a partier in high school or college, always preferring to curl up on the couch and watch a movie. You’d only had some sips of alcohol a few times, but you had never been drunk. 

“You deserve this!” Nat shouts in your ear. “Harkness has been working you to the bone!” 

You shrug and wave your hand dismissively, suddenly uncomfortable. Agatha Harkness is your History of Witchcraft professor at Westview University. She’s known around campus for being cold to everyone and rarely giving out A’s. She expected nothing short of excellence and would not put up with excuses. Everyone was terrified of her. 

Everyone except for you. 

Something about the older woman captivated you. You were obsessed with meeting her standards, dreaming of the day she would look at you with pride. You poured over your books for her class, rereading every sentence you wrote thrice, just to try to impress her. It had taken your friends days of begging to convince you to come celebrate your birthday with them because you had a paper for Agatha’s class due in a week and you were already worried about it. 

“I don’t know how you’re surviving,” Wanda says. “I had her last semester and got a C in the class. Third highest grade. She’s the worst.” 

“She’s not that bad,” you defend, not quite sure why. Something about Agatha getting so much hate for pushing her students rubs you the wrong way. 

“Yeah she is,” Rio joins in. “I heard that she’s a real witch.”

You roll your eyes. “Can we please stop talking about her? I thought you guys brought me here to get away from school.” You take the shot that’s still in your hand and it goes down smoother this time. 

“Yes, there we go!” Rio whoops. 

Two more shots later and your head has gone completely fuzzy. You feel as if you are floating on air and everything around you is happening in slow motion. You get off your stool and immediately stumble, Wanda catching you with her arms. 

“I think I’m a little drunk,” you tell her. She laughs like it’s the funniest thing you’ve ever heard. 

“No shit, y/n, you don’t have to yell!” 

You didn’t even realize you had. “We should probably go back to the dorms!” You look around to see Nat chatting with some girl and Rio throwing darts at the board in the corner. 

“Not yet,” Wanda says, picking up her rum and coke. You’re not sure how she’s still drinking after she also did four tequila shots. “I’ll get you some water.” She signals to the bartender and you squeeze your eyes shut, willing your vision to go back to normal. 

When you open them, you see dark hair in the corner. Is that–? You shift so you can get a better look and feel sorely disappointed when you realize the person is not Agatha. Why are you disappointed? The thought echoes in your head for a second, and then is replaced by a sudden urge to see your professor. 

“Drink this,” Wanda orders, pressing a glass of ice water into your hand, but you’re too busy scrolling through your phone. You know she put her number on the syllabus somewhere and you are too far gone to think that this might be a bad idea. 

You feel a thrill run through you when you find it. You read the number over and over, like you’re afraid it’s going to change somehow. 

“I’ll be back,” you slur to Wanda and then step out the side door into the alley. You type the number into your phone and your finger hesitates over the call button. You know you shouldn’t. But fuck it. You press the button and lift the phone to your ear. 

It rings. And then rings again. You’re about to hang up to spare yourself the rejection when the call connects. 

“Hello?” It’s actually her. 

Your breath catches in your throat and you stand up straighter. “Professor Harkness?” 

“Y/n? Is that you?” 

“Yeah.” Shit, this was a bad idea. Even with your head still swimming, you know that. You can’t just hang up though. 

“Why are you calling me at 10:30 on a Saturday night?” 

“Um,” you say, trying to think of something. You’re definitely going to have to drop her class after this. You’ll never be able to face her ever again. “It’s my birthday?” You offer lamely. 

Agatha scoffs. “Happy birthday. Can I help you with something?”

“Oh, no, Professor, I just wanted – we’re at a bar – I thought you were – and just wanted to say hi,” you ramble, knowing you’re not making any sense, and you can almost hear her smirk through the phone. 

“Y/n, are you drunk right now?” Her voice perks up and it sounds like she’s finally interested. 

“No!” you protest. “Well, maybe a little. But I’m 21 now!” 

“What bar are you at?” 

“Jimmy’s.” It’s a local dive bar that is a popular place for Westview students to hang out at. 

“I’ll be there in ten. Wait out front.” There’s a click and then she’s gone. You stare at your phone, dumbfounded. Is Agatha coming to pick you up? Why?

You walk back into the bar and order a Dirty Shirley. The call had sobered you up a bit and if you had already drunk-called your professor, why not get even more hammered. Wanda comes back over to you and giggles when she sees the new drink in your hand. 

“Alright, time to party!” she exclaims. You pick up on the fact that she’s a little drunk as well. You stand up, vision blurring for a second. 

“I actually called an uber,” you lie, even through your hazy mind knowing that your professor coming to pick you up might sound strange to them.

Wanda pouts and then throws her arms around you. “Happy birthday,” she says into your ear and your arms tighten around her. 

“Thank you,” you breathe back. You’re close with Rio and Nat as well, but they don’t have the same bond you and Wanda do. You pull back and then go say goodbye to your other friends. 

The wind outside does very little to sober you up and you shiver from the coldness. You’re wearing a purple crop-top and a black mini-skirt, something Nat had found buried deep in your closet. You watch the time on your phone, heartbeat picking up as it gets closer to ten minutes since Agatha had hung up on you. 

And then right on the dot, a slick black Range Rover pulls into the parking lot, and you immediately know it’s her. The car stops right in front of you, the passenger window rolling down, and your breath catches. 

It’s Professor Harkness, clad in a maroon suit, wavy hair falling over her shoulders. 

“Do you need me to open the door for you, too, princess?” Agatha says, sarcasm dripping over the words, when you haven’t moved. You shake your head, partly to answer and partly to clear the fog. You settle into the seat, not missing the way Agatha’s eyes rake over your skimpily clothed body.

“You didn’t have to come get me,” you mutter, putting real effort into not slurring your words. 

She glances at you and sees you struggling with your seatbelt. She reaches over and you freeze at her close proximity. Her breath is hot against your cheek and her fingers brush your stomach as she takes the seat belt from your hand and buckles it for you. “Thought I would spare the other people you drunk-called,” she says. 

Embarrassment runs through you. “You were the only one,” you say meekly, picking at a scab on your hand. You dare to peek at her, only to find her smirking, one eyebrow quirked. 

“Oh?”

“I shouldn’t have called.” This time, it’s harder to keep your words from running together. “We were talking about you and then I thought I saw you and I just wanted to see you.” You need to stop talking, now. 

Agatha hums. “Did you, now?” She tucks a piece of hair behind her ears as she shifts the car into drive and you watch her fingers. 

“You’re really hot,” you blurt out and then clamp a hand over your mouth. Fuck. 

Instead of pulling over and making you get out, like you thought she would, Agatha simply reaches over and pats your leg. “And you’re really drunk, sweetheart.” 

The pet name makes you swoon inwardly. “Not that drunk,” you say unconvincingly. “I only had one…two…” You trail off, attempting to count the number of drinks on your fingers. Agatha stifles a chuckle. 

“Is this your first time drinking?” She asks, amused. 

“No, but it is my first time drinking this much,” you admit. “My friends dragged me out since it’s my birthday. I was going to work on the essay for your class.” 

“You were going to spend your 21st birthday doing school work?” 

“Your essay’s due in a week. I wanted to make sure I-it was good enough for you.” 

She notices your slip of tongue and her smirk sends heat down low in your stomach. “You’re always good for me. Your essays are some of the best I’ve ever read.” 

Your heart skips a beat and your face flushes. “I have a B in your class.” 

“You have an 88 in my class. That’s the highest I’ve had in years. Can’t make it too easy,” she says with a wink. 

“You could make it just a little easier,” you grumble, the alcohol clearly getting rid of any inhibitions. 

“You keep doing what you’re doing, sweetheart, and it’ll go up, I promise. I’m very impressed with the work you’ve been turning in.”

A hot flash runs through you. “Just wanna be your good girl.” And if it wasn’t clear how you feel about her now, it sure is. But she doesn’t look disgusted or creeped out, only intrigued. 

She finally stops the car and you peer out the window, expecting to see your dorm. You haven’t been paying attention to where she’s been driving at all, and you’re quite surprised to see you’ve arrived at a two-story house in a cute, suburban neighborhood. 

“This isn’t where I live,” you say dumbly. 

“No, it’s not,” she agrees, getting out of the car and walking over to help you. You stumble up the steps to the front door, Agatha’s tight grip on your shoulder keeping you upright. You can feel her fingers playing with the ends of your hair. 

She unlocks the front door just as a wave of nausea hits you. “Oh, god,” you say weakly, holding a hand in front of your mouth. Agatha doesn’t even seem phased; she leads you to a bathroom in the hall and leaves, only to re-enter with a glass of water moments later. You gulp it down and feel better. 

“You okay?” she asks softly, stroking your cheek, eyes tracing up and down your face. You’ve never seen this side of her and you really like it. 

“I think so. Thank you again,” you murmur and you realize that you’ve been staring at her mouth. 

“Anything for my favorite student.” 

And then, because you’re apparently determined to fuck everything up even more, you lean in and press your lips to hers. Agatha stands still for a second before you pull back, horrified with yourself. 

“Professor, I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to–” 

She draws you back in for a longer kiss this time, tongue licking into your mouth. You let out a long moan and she breaks away. 

“You’re drunk,” she tells you again.

You clasp the lapels of her blazer. “I know. But I want you.” 

She softly pries your fingers off her suit and smiles. “You need to sleep. And then we can talk about this in the morning.” 

You pout and she runs her thumb over your bottom lip, slightly pulling it down. You suck her finger into your mouth, delighting in the way her eyes darken. She steps back.

“Let’s go. You can sleep in the guest room. I’ll find you some pajamas and toiletries.” Her hand on the small of your back guides you up the stairs and to the room on the right. The guest room is simple but cozy and you immediately go to the bed and flop onto it. “Don’t fall asleep yet,” Agatha warns and then leaves the room. 

She comes back in a few minutes, an old shirt and sweatpants in one hand and a toothbrush and toothpaste in the other. She pats your legs in an effort to get you up but you can barely move, suddenly weighed down by all the drinks. 

“Come on, hon,” Agatha says and helps you stand up. You don’t move as she works to take your shirt and skirt off, your cheeks and upper chest flushing red. You try to cover yourself and she smirks. 

“M’sorry,” you mumble. 

“Don’t be. I’m enjoying the view.” You stare at her longingly, silently begging her to fuck you right there and then, but she helps you step into the sweatpants and pull the shirt over your head. She watches you brush your teeth and moves the covers so you can get into bed. “Do you need anything else?” 

Your hand grabs hers. “Just you,” you try again hopefully, but she chuckles and wrenches free of your grip. 

“Good night, birthday girl,” she whispers and leans down to press a kiss to your forehead. And then she turns off the lights and leaves the room.

You fall asleep immediately. 

***

Sunlight streams through the blinds, waking you up. It takes you a minute to get your bearings and then the events of last night come back to you. 

The bar. Four shots of tequila and half a Dirty Shirley. Calling Agatha and her coming to pick you up and taking you to her house. Kissing her in the downstairs bathroom. Shit. 

You groan, head pounding. You see a container of Advil and a glass of water on the nightstand beside you. You take two Advil and drain the glass, heart warming at the thought of Agatha taking such good care of you. 

And then you remember that your relationship with her will forever be complicated by your actions. 

You solemnly brush your teeth and pull back on the clothes you wore to the bar last night, neatly folding Agatha’s pajamas and placing them on the bed. You hope she hasn’t woken up yet so you can sneak out without her having to tell you how inappropriate you behaved last night. 

No such luck. The second you get downstairs, Agatha perks up from where she’s typing on her laptop on the couch.

“Good morning, darling,” she purrs, shutting her computer. You gulp, taking her outfit in. She’s wearing a robe that ends mid-thigh and the neckline drops low. 

“Hey,” you say casually, trying to hide how much you’re internally freaking out. 

“Do you want something for breakfast? I can cook you something.” She stands up and walks to the kitchen and you follow like a lost puppy. You involuntarily lick your lips at the way her hips are swaying. 

“What are my options?” Your voice is raspy, still feeling hungover. She glances back at you and her eyes dart up and down your body. 

“I can make eggs. Bacon. I think I have pancake mix in the pantry. What would you like?” 

You’re a little confused that she hasn’t scolded you yet. And then you remember something else. She kissed you. 

You swallow hard. Whatever else you may have done last night that you can’t remember, she doesn’t hate you for it. She might even want you back. 

“Are you on the menu?” It comes out before you can even realize what you’re saying. 

Agatha freezes and turns around. You shift your weight nervously, but then you see her pupils blown out. Her eyes are so dark you can barely see any blue. “What?” She asks carefully.

“You kissed me last night,” you say, a little breathless. You have absolutely no idea where this confidence is coming from. “You wouldn’t do anything else cause I was drunk. But I’m not drunk now.” 

She steps toward you and roughly grasps your hair. She tilts your head back, exposing your neck just a tad. “No, you’re not.” She regards you for a second. “You know you’re not going to get extra credit for trying to sleep with your professor.” 

You laugh. “That’s not why I’m doing this.” 

She smirks. “Good.” And then she licks a hot stripe up your neck and bites down, sucking a mark on your skin. You gasp loudly and tangle your hands into her hair. 

“Professor,” you moan and you drag her into a filthy kiss. She backs you up until your thighs hit the table so she lifts you up onto it. Your legs wrap around her to pull her closer. Agatha pushes up your crop-top and kneads your breast, thumb stroking your nipple, never once breaking your kiss.

Her hand creeps under your skirt and cups your mound over your underwear. Your hips jump on their own at the stimulation. 

“Please,” you beg. Her lips curl into a smile. 

“What do you want?” Her fingers have pushed your underwear to the side and have started lazily stroking through your folds, spreading your wetness. 

“You,” is all you can say before she sinks a finger into your hole. 

“Like this?” She asks innocently, thrusting hard. 

“Yes,” you pant, quickly untying her robe so you can touch her. She’s completely naked underneath and you lean down so you can take a nipple into your mouth. 

“That’s perfect, baby,” she sighs, setting a relentless pace with her fingers after she slips another one in you. “Is this what you hoped would happen when you called me last night?”

“I’ve been hoping for this since the first day of the semester,” you answer, and she falters for a second, thrown off by your honesty. 

She pulls out of you and panic runs through you, terrified that you said the wrong thing. But she just pushes you down so your back is resting on the table and she pulls out one of the chairs from the table. 

“What are you–” Before you can finish your sentence, she leans forward and sucks your clit into her mouth. Your back arches off the table, hands rushing down to hold her in place. “Fuck, Professor!” 

She devours your pussy like she’s a starving woman, pulling all sorts of loud noises from you. 

“Oh my god, I’m gonna cum,” you chant, hips grinding on her face, trying to get the last bit of stimulation you need to send you over the edge. She knows what you need and presses her fingers inside you, curling them just right and gives your clit a hard last lick. You cum harder than you ever have before, her name on your lips like a prayer. She helps you ride through the aftershocks and then trails kisses up your body until she can kiss your mouth. 

“How was that?” she asks after you pull away to catch your breath. 

“That was probably the best birthday present I’ve ever gotten,” you say, which cracks both of you up. “But I’m not finished.” 

Her eyebrow quirks up and she smirks. “Oh?” You stand up, putting your hands on her hips and flipping her around so she’s leaning against the table. 

You sink to your knees in front of you, not even bothering with a chair. You slowly push her robe up so it bunches at her waist. “Can I return the favor?” 

A glint appears in her eye and she fists one of her hands in your hair preemptively. “I’d like nothing more.” 

[natsarrownecklacx]

Down The Witches Road

Agatha Harkness x Reader Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word Count: 1,898

Summary: After the death of your wife you decide the best way to get her back is by travelling the witches road. Not everything goes according to plan.

Warnings: Talks of death, scary Agatha, mean coven behaviour, betrayal, lil sad moments, in general just be warned this is not a fluff fic. Based on this thought I had.

ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ

This, every single thing about this, is difficult. There is no other way to put it. The witches road is set to test its travelers, those who are mad enough, desperate enough to brave it. You’d known this before you’d ever even approached Agatha with your plan to travel its tricky path, but you had not expected it to be so cruel.

Ms Heart- Sharon, she was a kind woman. There was not a single bad bone in her frail body, no trace of malice or ill intention to be found in her.

Her death was too sudden. Everything happened so fast. One moment she was there, beside you, the pair of you sharing a quiet, personal moment of shared experience and grief over a glass of wine. The next thing you knew, the very next moment of stillness you got, she was gone. Dead. Her body laid out limp and haunting beside you as you landed in the dirt.

You could do nothing more than shed a tear for the woman, for the love she lost, for the life she lived. For the fear she must have felt in her final moments, all alone. Forgotten until the very last moment. A moment too late.

You shared a sense of comradery with the woman, her loss something you knew all too well. It was your idea to bury her, your plea that swayed Agatha to stay as you and the others layed Sharon to rest.

You’d not expected to grow as fond of Agatha as you had, or at all really. When you’d approached her, it was merely because you knew she could be convinced, that her hunt for power would ultimately lead her down the road along side you, much like it did the first time she dared to face it.

Over the days you’d traveled together, Agatha seemed to take a liking to you, her behavior towards you strangely protective but surprisingly comforting. At first you’d been skeptical, but as trials were complete and challenges beat, you took to her much the same way.

The bond between you, although unexpected, became one you valued. She was your friend. Someone you would protect. Someone you would do anything for. Someone, you feared, you would miss if anything were to happen to her.

You saw the way she looked at Rio, just as you saw the way the green witch looked at her. With so much love in their eyes, so much loss. They longed for each other. You could see, everyone could, but no one said anything. No one needed to.

When Agatha's trial rolled around, her contorted body running at you in the darkness of that room, you’d cried. You’d yelled out for her to stop, told her she was scaring you.

The witches body froze in front of your own, her mind clearing through the fog long enough to catch sight of you tear filled eyes through the cracks in your fingers, hiding your face from her.

Everything froze, the witch fighting with everything inside her to pull away from you. She managed one step back before the lights came on, her mind going black before she woke, an apparition of her mother hovering over you and the rest of the coven.

“You!” Her mothers ghost spat, lunging toward you. Your eyes widened, as did everyone else’s, no one expecting the witch to acknowledge you at all.

Agatha, acting on pure instinct and adrenaline, called out to her mother, running towards her and drawing everyone's attention toward her, away from you.

Evanora stopped, hearing her daughter's voice, turning to her. Agatha’s arms were spread wide in front of her, prepared to defend herself from the ghostly woman, her eyes darting between you and her mother, quickly checking you over for any injuries.

“Agatha.” Evanora sighed, almost as though she was relieved. Agatha's face scrunched in confusion.

“You have to stop her.” Evanora said, an edge to her voice that spilled out into the room, drawing everyone's full attention. “You all have to stop her. She wants to bring her back. She will destroy everything.”

Agatha stands in shock and confusion, her mind racing a mile a minute as she tries to make sense of it all. It wasn't her Evanoa was trying to hurt by taking possession of her body, it was you. “Mother what-”

“SHE!” Evanora said furiously, turning an accusing finger toward you. “Has been marked by the scarlet witch. She intends to use the road's power to bring her back to life.”

A gasp sounds through the room, the others, who were all crowded protectively around you, take a step away, as though being near you might cause them harm. Agatha turns to you, hurt and disbelief evident in her eyes, her hands faltering in front of her.

You open your mouth to explain yourself only to snap it shut a second later, what was there to say, Evanora was right.

Agatha's eyes harden, seeing the truth in your own. “Agatha I-” You feel a tap to your forehead, Rio barley entering your vision before the world fades away around you, the green witch catching you and helping your limp body to the floor gently.

When you wake, you're no longer in that house. It's cold, the feeling of mud beneath you making you cringe as you lift yourself from the floor. Agatha is sitting on a log beside you, the rest of the coven a few feet away, sitting around a fire.

Her head snaps in your direction when she senses you’ve woken up. She stands, moving toward you without even thinking, wanting, needing to make sure you're okay.

She’s been crying, you can see it on her face, the evidence of it tracking down her cheeks. Her arms wrap around you, her voice a flurry of emotion as she asks if you're okay, how you're feeling.

You assure her that you're fine, that everything feels normal and the next second her arms are gone, her body completely taken from you as she steps back, staring you down with a storm in her eyes.

“She took everything from me.” The raven haired witch says, a hint of something you can't place in her voice, making your chest feel tight.

You sigh, taking a step toward the woman you now called your friend, the uncomfortable feeling in your chest growing when she takes a step back.

“I love her, Agatha.” You say, your eyes starting to well, you can feel the desperation to have your wife back creeping back in again. The suffocating feeling of missing such an intricate part of you. “I- I need her. You don’t understand, when you met her, the pain she was in, that wasn’t really her. She’s different. She’s filled with so much kindness and love, god Agatha she is the most kind and caring person I have ever met-”

“You need to keep better company then.” The older witch snaps, regret filling her when you shrink back slightly.

You sniffle, defeat filling you as you bring your hand up to pull on your shirt, revealing the mark, the symbol Wanda had left on you before her death.

Agatha gasps, she’d never seen a symbol like that in real life before, only ever heard of it, read of it in the darkhold. The symbol bonds its wearer with the person who drew it. It ties their souls together. They can sense each other, feel each other's emotions, their love and their pain which means…

“I felt it when she died.” You whisper, your voice shaky as you relive that awful moment all over again. “I could feel it everywhere. Not physically, she protected me from the physical pain somehow but… It was like she was there and I could feel her, I could feel her heart beating in time with mine, I could feel her warmth all around me and then it was just gone.”

Your voice breaks, tears threatening to spill from your eyes as you will yourself to keep them at bay. “I was just overcome with this hollow, cold feeling and I knew she was gone.”

You try to step toward her again and this time she allows it. “Agatha.” You say softly, your voice a plea, the desperation you feel shown clearly on your face now. “I can still feel it. Everyday it gets stronger. I’m scared that soon it’s all I’ll be able to feel.”

There's a reason that spell resided in the book of the damed, if not cared for properly, it could have catastrophic consequences for the wearer.

“I need her.” You cry, your hands reaching for hers, pulling her closer to you. “Please, I need her. Help me.”

Agatha’s heart breaks for you. She hates to see you suffering like this, too see you in so much emotional pain it almost consumes you. She can feel it radiating off of you in waves.

She wants to help you, she will. But this, bringing Wanda back, she can’t do that, she won’t. Not after all the pain she caused in Westview and certainly not after the massacre in Kamar Taj.

“Y/n…”

“Please, Agatha. Wouldn’t you have done what she did if it meant you could see your son again.”

Agatha’s gaze turns cold, the concern in her eyes overshadowed by something akin to betrayal. Her lips curl into a sinister smile, a cruel laugh leaving her lips.

“You’ll never get her back.” She whispers. “You will never see her again.”

“Don’t say that.” You snap, the possibility of her words becoming a reality making you feel nauseous.

“You know, there is a way for me to remove the symbol, to take away all that pain you're carrying around.”

You know what she means, had been presented with the same option by others before in the past. The symbol can be lifted, its effects dissipating with a simple spell, freeing you from its cruelty. But there was a catch, the wearer would have to forget the person who drew it in the first place.

Any and all traces of Wanda would be gone from you forever. You can’t bare the thought of not knowing her, not even having the memories you shared, knowing she loved you. No. You wouldn’t ever let anyone take her from you.

“No.” You say, anger in your voice at her implication. “You can’t do that. You can’t take what’s left of her from me.”

“I can’t let you bring her back y/n. I’m sorry.” As she says this Agatha wraps her arms around you, keeping you still as you try to worm your way out of her grasp. “Do it.” She says, her voice cracking as she does.

You can hear the coven as the surround you, their words blurring together into one big chant as you kick and scream and beg them not to do this to you.

Agatha cries the entire time, silent tears falling down her face as she tries to keep you from hurting yourself, from getting away.

When it’s done, your body limp in her arms, she looks down to your peaceful face through watery eyes.

You’d never forgive her for this.

Luckily you won’t even remember why you hate her so much and after time, she tries to convince herself, maybe you’ll forget you hate her too.

ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ <3 ᗢ

A/n- I wrote this so fast in fear that id lose motivation n it would never be written but I hope ye like it anyways :)

[k9effect]

I thought about Mav passed out at his work desk with headphones on and it spiralled into this whole thing

Mav always felt a little lonely.

Even when he had people around him who loved him, he always ended up on his own one way or another and felt that loneliness seeping in. Goose was the first to notice. Before Goose's trips back to Tennessee to see Carole included Mav, he would come back to base to hear about how his pilot had lost a bit of his shine while he was away.

That's when Goose started making the recordings.

It was a small gift, but it meant the world to Mav. A brand new walkman, headphones and all, and a single cassette tape. This tape didn't have music on it, no, it contained a three hour recording of Goose reading though the F-14 Tomcat Flight Manual and adding in his own comedic commentary.

He wasn't sure what Mav would think of it, but when he returned home from another trip and found his pilot curled up asleep on the lounge, headphones on, walkman clutched in his hands, the tape run through, he realised he had made the right decision. Once Mav stirred, realising Goose had returned, he pulled the RIO onto the couch and thanked him for how thoughtful and considerate of a gift it was. That it made him feel less alone.

Goose continued the recordings. They were simple things he could make while completing other work. An hour recording here of Goose rambling while he completed chores, half an hour recording there of Goose muttering while he completes some paperwork. Even after Mav started joining him on his trips to Carole and they inevitably became attached at the hip, Goose continued making recordings. They grew more sincere over time, telling Mav that he was loved and he was strong and could get through anything.

Maverick was very glad he continued making them. It was a piece of Goose he could always carry with him.

Because one day, Goose wasn't there anymore.

Ice was never quite certain why his wingman was always listening to music on a busted walkman, but he never questioned it.

That was until he was packing Mav an overnight bag after an accident and Mav had specifically requested the walkman. Ice had taken a closer look at it and seen the writing on the cassette.

‘GOOSE - 12’

Curiosity got the better of him and he pulled on the headphones and pressed play.

“Y'know, Mav-” It was Goose's voice, Ice realised with a pang deep in his chest, “- I'm pretty sure, by like, most, if not all, the laws of aviation, you should have broken our Tomcat's airframe several times over. I honestly don't know how she's still together-” There was the clinking of dishes and sloshing of water along with the distinct sound of a bristly, sudsy brush scrubbing metal. “- What sort of demon did you make a deal with to manage this? I'm not arguing, I'd rather not face a board of inquiry again, but I'm curious.”

Ice paused it.

He realised very quickly what the cassette was and that, judging on the number, there were more of these.

Mav was always listening to Goose talk.

He packed the walkman into the overnight bag with much more care than he offered possibly anything.

Mav stared.

He blinked once, then twice. But it changed nothing.

There was a cassette sitting on his bed. On it, was scribbled a name and a number.

‘ICE - 1’

Beneath it was a small, simple note.

‘Listen to me.’

Mav pushed the cassette into his walkman and, sitting down, let it play.

“Hey, Mav. Sorry if this is weird for you, it sure feels weird for me. I- uh- I realised what the walkman is for. I'm sorry I teased you for it, it's not dumb and old. I know Slider thought you were pretty cool for having one. He's got one too. But anyways, I found a recording of Goose and I realised why you have this so I thought, y'know, maybe I could make you some new ones? To make up for the teasing at least. I mightn't be as good as Goose but I'll give it my best shot. I've got a book here, I'm just gonna read it out loud for a while, okay? Okay. Here we go…”

Mav listened to the whole thing in one sitting. It was long and sweet and Mav felt something aching inside him, something that hadn't ached in a long time.

Every week or so, Mav would find another cassette in his room with an increased number on it. It was just Ice for a while, but then he found one labelled ‘SLIDER - 1’. Then another a few months later labelled ‘HOLLYWOOD - 1’, then ‘WOLFMAN - 1’. His collection grew as more people helped continue Goose's legacy.

The day he found ‘VIPER - 1’ he felt like he was five again. Viper's recording was two hours worth of him recounting childhood stories of Mav, stories of him with his parents, of just his parents, and deployment tales of his dad.

Once Mav buys his first proper home, an old hangar out in the Mojave Desert, he builds a small shelf to hold all of his cassettes instead of keeping them in a bag or a box. It's then, when they're all neatly organised together, that he realises just how many he has.

The original thirty-one from Goose.

Three from Carole.

One short one from Bradley.

Seventeen from Iceman.

Ten from Slider.

Seven each from Hollywood and Wolfman.

Four from Chipper.

Three from Sunny.

And, so far, Two from Viper.

He doesn't feel so lonely anymore. Everyone he loves has put time and effort into making sure he doesn't feel alone. That instead, he feel loved.

And he sure does.

Even now, years down the track, Ice will stumble upon Maverick passed out at his work desk late at night ontop of a half finished project, with his old walkman next to him, headphones on, listening to Goose laugh his way through the Tomcat manual.

[iheartsteve0704]

Agathario | Parent & Teacher AU

Agatha is a single mom and this weekend Nicky is with his dad (who Agatha HATES considering he cheated on her and threw away 9 years of marriage but atleast Agatha finally got out of that terrible relationship and realized she was a raging lesbian)

Agatha was planning on spending her Saturday alone sipping on wine and watching terrible hallmark movies until she realized that day would’ve marked their 10th anniversary and all of sudden she didn’t want to pathetically rot alone in her big house that was way too lonely without her sunshine of a son so she slips on her sluttiest dress and ends up some packed bar

Most of the crowd was in their 20-30s but for some reason she didn’t feel old. Okay she did but it didn’t bother her so much because she knew she looked hot and she overhead at least 7 different people call her a milf so Agatha felt pretty good about herself

Agatha was sitting at the bar, on her second drink, when someone slid up on to the stool next to her. Agatha looked over, it was a woman probably in her 30s with short dark raven hair and big brown eyes that looked innocent at first glance but it was clear by the woman’s smirk and the tongue that pressed up against the inside of the woman’s mouth as she looked Agatha up and down that she was anything but innocent

Agatha learns that her name is Rio and Rio was wearing the most delicious slack and crisp white shirt with a couple buttons open exposing a hint of cleavage that made the older woman’s mouth go dry

She also learns that Rio is a sweet talker and there’s something that Agatha just can’t resist so that’s how they end up making out in the bathroom and then in the passenger seat of Agatha’s car where Agatha finally understands the logics of Chappell Roan’s song Casual

The sex is so good, it makes her head spin, and it’s on her drive home alone that she realizes she doesn’t even get the woman’s number or last name. Agatha knows this is going to haunt her.

With the weekend coming to a close, Nicky is dropped off back home Sunday night where they eat his favorite dinner and get his backpack ready for his first day of 2nd grade tomorrow. Agatha lets Nicky pick out a new SpiderMan shirt to wear, even though she wanted to dress him in a stylish Zara kids fit, but she realizes that kids are only kids once and relents

The next morning, the school blacktop is bustling with kids and their parents. Some kids are crying and some parents are too. Agatha was more composed than she thought she’d be, wearing her work clothes to head to the office right after this and her hair swept up into a claw clip.

One cue, Agatha’s ex husband shows up and she had to plaster on a fake smile when her son runs up to him and gives him a hug. Together the three of them walk over to Nicky’s classroom and line up with the other families waiting to situate their kids and meet the teacher

“Woah buddy! Awesome Spidey shirt! I’m Miss. Vidal but call me Miss. V!” Agatha hears the teacher say and it itches something in her brain. She was busy fixing Nicky’s hair so she wasn’t looking at the teacher but once she did, her jaw fell slack. Both of theirs did. Rio.

Rio dressed very different from the bar. She had a sundress on and a soft cardigan on top. She looked like real life miss honey and since that was Agatha’s first girl crush growing up, it was really doing something for the older woman.

Rio, amidst her shock, is able to reel it in and introduce herself. She shakes the hand of Agatha’s ex and tries (and fails) to mask her reaction when he introduces himself as “Nicky’s Dad”. Agatha quickly remedies it though and clarifies they are not together anymore. Agatha even lets out that she is now a lesbian. Very loudly.

They drop Nicky off, who is clearly already in love with Rio, and Agatha takes one more glance back and is met with Rio staring back at her

Because agatha is so busy at work and Nicky’s dad sometimes picks and drops their kid off to school, Agatha doesn’t see Rio again a few weeks later when Agatha gets a call from the school that that Nicky had gotten in trouble and she needed to come in asap

When she gets to the school office, Nicky is sitting there with the principal and Rio. Apparently Nicky pushed down a boy who said something homophobic about Agatha and at the moment and in the office she reprimanded him but once outside she told him good job.

Rio sends Nicky back to gym class and that leaves her alone with Agatha. With the kids in a different class, Rio invites Agatha to see some of Nicky’s work and they go. Theres a lot of tension and they almost kiss again when Rio is perched up on her desk and Agatha feels a pull towards the younger woman but the school bell rings. Rio tells her she wants to see her again and Agatha can’t agree fast enough and they exchange numbers.

They start hanging out and by that I mean having sex, when Nicky is away with his dad, and Rio can’t deny she’s falling in love with this woman but Agatha is afraid because she’s been wrong about love before but also because this was Nicky’s teacher

And because that, Agatha proposes they stop whatever they are doing and Rio is crushed beyond words

One day, Nicky gets in the car and goes on and on about his day at school and he casually mentions that Miss Vidal asked about her and Agatha doesn’t know if she’s enraged or horny or both so after dropping Nicky off at basketball she is angrily banging on Rio’s door with an argument on the tip of her tongue until the door opens and Rio is wearing one of her crips shirts again but this time with a pair of glasses slipping down the bridge of her nose and Agatha can’t help but throw her arms around her and kiss her hard

They start sleeping with each other again after that but the unspoken rules that they don’t talk about their feelings or label whatever it is they are doing

One time, they spend the night at Agatha’s house and Rio slips out of bed in the morning to get a glass of water when she’s met with Nicky in the kitchen eating cereal and reading a book. Before she could slip away or out the door, Nicky greets her with confusion but excitement.

When he asks what she is doing there in her mom’s pajamas, Rio quickly tells him some innocent lie that the boy eats up. Knowing she can’t just leave him there, she suggests pancakes and they stand over the stove together and make them.

When Agatha wakes up she smiles when she smells food downstairs and keeps it on her face until she sees what is going on. She flips out on Rio and asks her to leave.

Agatha tries to talk to her son but he isn’t bothered by it or confused like she thought he’d be. He even says “is Miss Vidal going to be my new dad? Or my momma? I’d like that. She’s so nice and funny.”

Agatha thought she was protecting her son but maybe she was trying to protect herself and in the process hurt someone who really loves her, loves her son.

Agatha gives Rio time and vice versa and they don’t talk again until parent teacher conferences a few weeks later

Agatha’s ex doesn’t show up so when it’s her turn she walks into the classroom herself and sits in one of the desks across from Rio, who didn’t notice which parent had come in until she looked up from her notes

It’s awkward and Rio is masking her pain and feelings, being professional and talking about Nicky’s progress and Agatha listens but can tell behind those big brown eyes that she’s hurting.

When it comes time to leave, they both stand and Rio offers her hand to shake. Agatha takes it and they look at each other as they shake. Then Agatha is brushing her thumb against the top of Rio’s hand and the younger woman bites her bottom lip. Then they gravitate towards each other and end up in a hug where they both let out a sigh of relief.

“You feel so good” Agatha says

“You smell so good” Rio replies, burying her head in her tousled brown hair

After a moment of just embracing each other Agatha says “I’m sorry. I miss you.” She pulls back to look into her eyes so Rio knows she means it. “I love you. I’m in love with you.”

[helpbutton95]

The Trial of Agatha Harkness

There's a buzzing in her ears, absorbing her mind. Distracting, consuming her senses. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut to focus where she was. What was she doing? Why was she here? She did recognise this place. No. Wait. She did. She knew this place. She blinked away the shrill buzz that filled her mind. Wooden cabinets. Her rundown oven. She was in her kitchen.

Westview. 

She was back in Westview. How? Why?

"Babe? You in here?" Babe? Her brow drew tight. She had never been called Babe in her life. "Have you seen my keys?"

Keys?

"Babe?" There was that stupid, disgusting pet name again. Familiar concerned brown eyes came into view. Scratch that. Rio hadn't been concerned for her in over 500 years. "Ags, you ok?"

No, she was concerned. Oh no. What was happening? Agatha frowned down at herself, a familiar robe covering her body, the same one as before.

"Agatha?" Her own grey eyes snapped up to Rio's. Rio, who had her disgustingly well fitted white shirt rolled to her elbows, black fitted pants that Agatha knew would show the curve of her ass all too well.

"I'm fine," she lied a little too smoothly. Rio's brow was still drawn tight. Agatha held a breath. What the hell was happening? "The keys are in the bowl, in the porch."

Rio nodded, moving closer and Agatha held a breath. "Thanks, I'll see you tonight."

Agatha smiled to add to the charade and Rio matched it, quickly swooping in for the briefest and chaste kiss that she had ever shared with the other woman.

As soon as Rio turned Agatha released a breath. She could do this, whatever this charade was, while she worked out how to get the hell out of here. She pulled the robe tighter. Was she in another Hex? Was Wanda back?

"Billy's going to want to go to the Mall, I've already told him no, he's still grounded after that hospital incident last week and Nicky's been changed!" Rio's call from the front door snapped Agatha from whatever thoughts she'd had. Who the hell was Billy? Nicky?

A baby's gurgle snapped her attention to the living room. Another coo and her heart flew to her throat. No. It wasn't possible. Her hand drew to her locket as she took a tentative step forward. She didn't hear the closing of the front door. Dark lockets of hair framed the baby's head as they sat with a wooden horse in his hand.

No. It couldn't be. He was gone. Her heart thundered in her ears. Stepping closer, he turned to her. His dimpled grin flashed up at her.

"Momum," he gurgled. It was a trick. An awful one. Her deepest fear. But she he looked exactly the same. Temptation rose as her body took her closer. He looked exactly the same. The same dark chestnut locks on his head, the same grey eyes that matched her own. The same button nose.

"Hi," Agatha breathed. She could linger a moment. Settling in front of him, she froze as he crawled to her. Her body reacted on instinct. Lifting him under his arms, and into her lap. Hesitantly, she cradled him as she had when he was a newborn, placed in her arms. He reached up the same way he did and she stared down as he played with her loose hair. Her heart was swelling as he did. The grey eyes were transfixed on her.

She wanted it. She wanted him. She wanted every part of him. A familiar movement overcame her as she reached to sooth his frown. Running her thumb off his small brow.

Grey eyes drooped closed just as they had then. A thunder of footfall had her looking up, instinctively protecting her baby from them.

"I'm going out!" She recognised that voice. Something overcame her then.

"No, you're not."

"What?" Dark hair and drawn brows with far too much eyeliner under his eyes came into view as he rounded the bottom of the stairs.

"I said no."

"I'm fine!"

"I don't care," Agatha huffed. Right, it was coming back to her now. He had fallen running from the cops after being caught with the boyfriend. Impaled himself on some glass. "You are staying here, not only because you are still recovering but because you're so grounded."

"Ugh, you used to be the cool one!"

"Sorry to disappoint," Agatha snapped as he spun on his heel in the most dramatic teenly fashion she hadn't seen in a long time. She watched him stalk back up the stairs as she looked back down at her youngest son with a smile and rocked him gently back and forth in time to a familiar clock. His dimpled cheeks smiling back up at her. He was such a good baby.

She could remember the discussions now, as the memories became clearer. Sitting with her wife as they discussed expanding their family. She was a doctor after all, she knew more about these processes than Agatha. She often described the line she walked between life and death. The way she could give or take if she truly wanted too. She had wanted to give life. Agatha had been feeling empty ever since Billy had turned sixteen. They had worked tirelessly until Agatha fell pregnant and Nicholas was born nine months later. All screams and flailing limbs. But they had survived it all. Happy and content. That was what she had wanted for them.

She felt her heart swell as she looked down at the baby in her arms. Now fast asleep. His little face is peaceful in his sleep. Standing with him cradled in her arms, she moved to the plush chair in the corner and settled.

A familiar hum falling from her lips.

Down, down, down the road,

Down the witches' road

Down, down, down the road

Down the witches' road

Down, down, down the road

Down the witches' road.

Agatha paid no mind to the ticking clock in the corner of the room. This was the life she had always wanted and there was nothing else she could imagine.

Chapter 1, 2...

[brights-place]

Hi, I was thinking about what Miles (1610) would be like as an older brother, with a 13-year-old younger sister?😘🥺

Miles Morales & Lil Sister! Reader

Pairings: Miles & Lil Sister! Reader

Warnings: Fluff

A/N: As a person with siblings I FUCKING HATE IT! but I love them... sometimes! anyways Miles with a younger sister is so cute! I can just imagine him being annoyed but care for you so much! 1610! Miles & Lil sis! (your here!), 42! miles & lil sis

- You and Miles as siblings sounds... Chaotic like REALLY! fucking chaotic I mean one moment you two would be loving siblings next when mama rio turns her back your brawling with your brother who is 3 ye ars older then you - You surprisingly won and you would cheer but Miles would let you because you were his younger sister - your the one who is fluent in spanish while Miles who is older and SHOULD KNOW! doesn't so he asks you to translate - Miles would chuck you around the house as you shout - You and Miles do rock paper scissors to see who does chores - Miles is a Mama's boy and your a Papa's Girl cause - When you were learning still and didn't know much he would whisper to you "you know what she sayin?" "No I don't hoe what do i look like a google translator!" "you said you were learning" "and your the one who's SUPPOSE to know" - He stares you down when he see's you steal his clothes because you claim you wear it better then him -"Hey big bro can I borrow this?" "No" "WHY!" "BECAUSE YOU AWLAYS WEAR AND STEAL MY SHIT!" "NUH UH!" "YUH HUH! YOU SEE ME WEARING YOUR CLOTHES!" "NUH UH CAUSE YOU CAN'T WEAR GOOD SHIT!" - Mama rio came by with her sandal and chucked it at you too shouting "¡TRANQUILIZARSE! ¡Estoy intentando chismorrear con la tía!" (CALM DOWN! I'm trying to gossip with Auntie!) - You both break into eachothers rooms - When he is drawing or playing video games you enter his room eating something or sipping a drink as he pauses what he's doing staring at you as he turned to look at his screen and back to you once more to see you slowly closing the door before swinging it open quickly and running away as miles shouted you to close it properly - He can hear that gremlin cackle that he finds so annoying - You want to be an amazing artist like him cause you find him amazing but you never say it to him

- When you heard him moving out of NYC to this school to study physics he stared at your sad face "Whatever I don't care I get to have your room and make it like a hangout room!" Miles would snicker at this - At the party you were speaking spanish to your other family friends and were beside your Mama and Papa aka Jeff and Rio as you noticed miles not there as your parents gave a speech as you frowned 'He promised to be here' - When he came back home he brought two cakes and you were frowning at your brother the entire time but soon forgave him because he brought sweets! - When he got grounded you muttered a little 'Ohhhhh snapppp!' as you ate some cake - WHEN HE CAME BACK WITH A GIRL YOU WERE CHOKING your older brother having a GF?! IMPOSSIBLE! - You respect him and want to be like him an amazing artist and get to a amazing school just like him! He pretends he doesn't see you trying your hardest - When he got into Brooklyn Visions Academy when he was 13 you were 10 and were pouting shouting at Miles asking why he was leaving to go to the 'fancy school' and promised you he would hangout at the weekends as you whine - When he became spiderman he tried to hide it from everyone especially you! - When he saw you staring at the TV screen shouting at how cool 'Spiderman' is when he recently came back after fighting a villain and came to visit he would raise a brow and smirk asking how you would feel about the spiderman as you ramble about how cool spiderman is! - he wants to keep his family safe as his younger sister he protects you and as spiderman he makes sure you dont ever get hurt!

reblogs + comments are appreciated ⸜(��˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

©brights-place 2023 — do not repost on another platform, copy, translate or edit my works! if you fit my DNI list please don't interact

[i-believe-in-melinda-may]

So, this is just a really rough draft of the first chapter, but i wanted to share to see what people think so far

May 31st 2018

When you’ve existed for eternity, there aren’t a lot of experiences that are new, but what Rio Vidal, also known as Lady Death, feels when A Mad Titan snaps his fingers, harnessing the power of all six infinity at once, is definitely a new experience.

As the universe unsurprisingly falls into chaos Rio realises feels something else that she has never felt before that the wall vale between life and death is thinner than it has ever been. Not caring about the consequences, not knowing if what she wants to do is even possible but knowing that she has to try Rio puts all her focus, all her power, into one goal; getting to her son who died one hundred and fifty five years ago.

After spending eternity delivering people to where they need to go after they died Rio has visited the vale many times, what she hasn’t done is cross over it herself. Punching threw the thinning vale Rio just focuses on her son, wiling to be with him, and as she travels through the realms, she’s spent eons delivery people to but never visiting herself, Rio feels her strength slipping away from her, like she has the weight of everything pushing against her, trying to pull her to back to where she came from, but she doesn’t care, all she cares about is getting to her son, her Nicky.

Having no idea how much time has passed Rio finally hears a laugh she has never forgotten;

“Nicky! Nicky, can you hear me!” Rio exclaims, doing her best to look around, but it’s almost like her eyes don’t work, a sensation she has never experience before.

“Mommy?” Nicky’s voice asks, and Rio sees what she thinks he is, looking just the same as when he died at seven, except not sick, and without a doubt Rio knows that is really him, she can feel that his soul feels the same, it feels like the incredible mix of her and Agatha that he is and because of that she knows, without a doubt, that he is her Nicky.

“Yeah Nicky! It’s me, I need you to come to me, Mi Conejito, follow my voice, can you do that?” Rio asks as and what feels like a couple of seconds later Rio sees him come closer to her.  

“MOMMY!” Nicky yells excited, and even though neither of them have physical forms at the moment the only way Rio can describe what she feels next is the feeling of hugging her son once more.

“Oh, I’ve missed you, so much,” Rio says to her son.

“I’ve missed you too, and Mama,” Nicky says.

“Do you want to be with us again, Nicky?” Rio asks, speaking quickly as she doesn’t know how long she has until she is forced out of this realm. “Would you like to come with me?” Rio asks.

“I do! I want to be with you and Mama,” Nicky confirms.

“Then I need you to hold onto me, okay, really tight,” Rio says, having no idea if this is going to work but needing to try. “No matter what, don’t let go, okay, don’t let go,” Rio says to her son. “Can you do that?” Rio asks.

“I can Mommy,” Nicky says as he ‘jumps’ into her arms, and as he ‘wraps’ his legs around Rio’s waist Rio holds onto him tighter than she has ever held onto anything and stops fighting the sensation trying to force her to go back. The second Rio stops fighting she can feel herself being flung backwards, and all she focuses on is holding Nicky, holding him tight, and not letting him go.

(line berak)

After being flung back the next sensation Rio feels is pain, something she hasn’t felt a whole lot of, but as she opens her eyes and looks around Rio realise two things. The first is that she is lying on her back in a field, the second is that she isn’t alone.

“Nicky! Nicky!” Rio yells as she moves, with some difficulty, to where her son, who once again looks exactly the same as before he got sick but is actually wearing the pyjamas he was wearing when he died. Getting to Nicky’s side Rio doesn’t hesitate for a second before she reaches out to him to her absolute relief, he is solid, he is real. “Nicky?” Rio asks, her voice breaking. “Nicky, can you open your eyes?” Rio asks and for the first time in over a hundred and fifty years Rio sees her son open his eyes and look at her.

“Hi Mommy,” Nicky says.

“Hi Mi Conejito,” Rio says, tears of joy coming to her eyes as she never thought this was possible, and she quickly pulls Nicky into her arms.

“Mommy, am I alive?” Nicky asks as he hugs his mother, not even complaining that his mother is hugging him so tightly that it almost hurts.

“Yeah, Nicky, yeah you are,” Rio says as she continues to hug her son, feeling, below the current chaos of the universe, that not only is her son alive, but he is perfectly healthy too.

“Good,” Nicky says, as he very much wants to be alive. “Mommy? Where’s Mama?” Nicky asks, looking around and not seeing his other mother, who he also deeply missed.

“I don’t know,” Rio admits, as she forces herself to let go of her son so she can look at him, as seven years after Nicky died her love, her wife, Nicky’s other mother, Agatha Harkness, obtained the Darkhold and used it to hide from her; that damn book being the only thing powerful enough to hide a person from Death. “But Nicky, I promise, we’re going to find her,” Rio says, knowing that no matter what it takes she will find Agatha, she will reunite her with their son.

“Pinkie promise?” Nicky asks, looking up at his mother.

“Pinky promise,” Rio says and the two of them do just that.

“Good, I miss Mama too,” Nicky admits.

“Me too,” Rio says, and once she does she has to close her eyes for a second as her vision has gone blurry.

“Mommy, are you okay?” Nicky asks concerned, as he can tell that something doesn’t seem right, his mother doesn’t ‘feel’ as ‘strong’ as she always used to feel.

“Yeah, I think I’m just a little tired,” Rio tells him, but she has a nagging feeling that crossing through the vale like she just did used more of her strength than she realised. “So how about we find somewhere to stay tonight,” Rio says, being sure that with the chaos of everything that has just happened she is going to be able to find them a place.

“Okay Mommy,” Nicky says, and with some difficulty Rio manages to get to her feet.

Once Rio is on her feet, she takes off the thin jacket she is wearing and puts it around Nicky who has also gotten to his feet, as while it isn’t much it will give him some warmth.

“Do you think you can walk?” Rio asks Nicky.

“I think so,” Nicky responds.

“Okay, let me know the second you need me to carry you,” Rio tells her son.

“I will,” Nicky promises as he reaches out and takes his mother’s hand.

As she once again feels her sons’ hand in hers, something she even let herself believe she would feel again, Rio starts to walk, each step feeling like it is taking everything in her, but knowing she can’t stop until she gets Nicky to a safe place.

(LIne break)

For almost an hour Rio and Nicky walk together, Rio not letting go of her sons hand for even a split second as she realises that there is definitely something wrong with her, until they finally they get to a little village. Considering what she knows Thanos has just done Rio isn’t surprised to find that this little village on the Isel of Man is pretty empty.

Using that for her advantage Rio first takes Nicky to market where she collects enough food for a few days as while she doesn’t need food, though she does enjoy it especially when cooked by Agatha, Nicky does, and she knows, without a doubt, that she is always going to make sure her son has everything he needs.

Once food is taken care of Rio leads Nicky over to the inn, where she breaks into a room for them, being pretty sure that no one is going to care about a little breaking and entering with everything else going on. As she wanted to make sure they would be safe Rio broke into the room in a way where she would still be able to lock the door, which is exactly what she does as Nicky walks over to the bed.

“Mommy? What’s wrong?” Nicky asks worried as he sits on the bed, and Rio, with some difficulty, puts the food down on the table, and squats down in front of him.

“Mommy’s a little tired, Mi Conejito. So, I’m going to make sure we’re safe, and then I’m going to sleep for a little while,” Rio says, knowing that when he died Nicky was too young to understand that his mommy doesn’t sleep. “While I’m asleep you can’t leave this room, okay? The bathroom is through there,” Rio says, pointing to it, feeling herself become weaker with every word “So use it when you need, and we have plenty of food, but you cannot leave this these rooms, and you can’t let anyone in,” Rio explains.

“What if it’s Mama?” Nicky asks, having so much faith in his Mama that they will be able to find them, no matter what.

“If it’s Mama let her in,” Rio says, though she very much doubts Agatha will suddenly appear, in fact, she doesn’t even know if Agatha survived Thanos’s extermination, something she is doing her best not to think about, as while she always believed, no matter what Agatha did, that she would able to feel it if Agatha as actually died, with the chaos that the universe is currently in that’s not even something she be certain off. “But no one else,” Rio explains, reaching out and pushing Nicky’s dark hair out of his face. “I need you to be brave, Sweetheart, can you do that?” Rio asks.

“I can do that, Mommy,” Nicky promises.

“Good Boy, I’m so proud of you, I love you so much,” Rio says, needing her son to know that.

“Love you too,” Nicky responds, and once he does Rio stands up, stumbling a little as she does.

Once she is standing up Rio uses the last bit of strength, she has to put up runes to keep Nicky safe, knowing that whatever is happening to her is worth it because she knows Nicky is okay, before collapsing on the bed just as the last rune is in place.

Tag: @valeery , @oceanxwaves

[cassiebones]

We need to talk about Agatha and Wanda

I don't ship them, just to make that clear right off the bat. I think that Agatha finds her hot and stuff, but more than anything she just wants her power. Agatha's heart fully belongs to Rio, no matter how angry she is or how she tries to deny it. She belongs to Rio and Rio belongs to her.

That being said, it's clear that Agatha is super envious of Wanda.

But it's more than just "ooh she is so powerful the Darkhold has a chapter dedicated just to her". Or "I had to spend the last three hundred years studying and she can do shit just because she misses her boyfriend? The fuck?!?"

It's more than that.

Because Wanda can have the person she loved back. Not Pietro, but Vision. Even if it's in a limited space, she gets to spend time with the person she loved most in the world, after her own brother. She gets to build this life that she had only dreamt about as a child living in a war-torn Soviet country, poor and hungry.

She had parents that loved her. She created children whom she loves and got to watch grow up, however quickly.

And Agatha didn't get that.

Her mother actively planned her execution.

Her son died and she couldn't bring him back.

The love of her life is the one who ferried his soul, making it impossible to bring him back, even if she knew how to do it.

She lost so much that it made her hard. It made it hard for her to trust or love anybody ever again. She was so alone in WandaVIsion. The only thing she admitted to wanting then was power, but there were moments throughout the show that give us a clue as to who she really was.

After Sparky dies, the boys say, out loud, that Wanda can bring him back to life, and Agnes disappears for a second when Agatha asks, "You can do that?" It sounds like a super genuine question. You can kind of see her own confusion and desperation for a second (I'm not sure if that was the intent, but if it is, I need both the writer behind it and Kathryn Hahn to receive their flowers, because that was just incredible. Love them for that.)

Then, when they're going through Wanda's memories, Agatha seems genuinely empathetic. It's played off as an act and she deflects a lot with humor, but I am so certain that a lot of it is genuine.

I'm also sure she took some pleasure when it's all taken away from Wanda, too, but I know there must be some empathy there, too. Because she knows what it feels like to lose everybody she loved, even those that didn't love her back (such as her mother). Especially empathy for the ones that did love her back and she knew it (like Nicholas and Rio).

There's no way that Agatha, who we know now has so many layers to her and who is a master at hiding and deflecting her own feelings, felt absolutely nothing.

I mean, after Vision says that one line - "what is grief if not love, perservering?" - Agatha flicks a tear away a minute later, when the scene ends.

Again, it could be played off as an act, but I know Agatha felt that just as we all had. I feel it every time I watch this scene, when I think of my own loved ones who've passed. Why wouldn't Agatha, who has hid from Rio out of anger just for doing her job and ferrying his soul, feel it too?

Hell, immediately after, she blinks and watches quietly as Wanda steps further into the room from her memory, just contemplative as Wanda re-experiences her grief. The look on her face isn't cruel or manipulative at all.

Again, hats off to Kathryn Hahn for her acting and portraying this character so damn well. Hats off to the writers if this was part of the long game in Empathy for Agatha Harkness. It's so great.

And then, when Wanda traps her with the runes and takes her power, I know Agatha had to be absolutely seething.

Not just because Wanda made her powerless. But because Wanda made her powerless without killing her. Something that Agatha probably didn't even know was possible to do. And then, Wanda treated her with empathy and soft words, placating her. Yeah, she left her in a spell, but she didn't say any harsh words against Agatha, didn't taunt her or call her evil. She was nicer than any of Agatha's adversaries had ever been.

Which, again, probably infuriated Agatha. But then she became Agnes, so...

I just think there are so many layers to these two characters, to Agatha in general. She has lived a long-ass life full of pain. She spent three centuries learning and gathering power, killing other witches because she thought she had no other option (you know she was planning on killing Wanda when she took her power), and losing everyone she loved in her quest for it, and this 20-something "I'm-not-a-witch" witch just swoops in and does everything Agatha can't do.

I really love the writing of these characters, you guys. It's beautiful.

[marleyybluu]

Would you be okay writing some bestfriends brother!rio smut? :)

Don Julio

Best friends brother!Rio x f!black!OC (Honey)

Word count: 1.1k

Content warning: literally nothing, just swearing and hangovers lol, Honey is 21 and Rio is 26 (just testing a little age gap😗)

A/N: I just want to apologize to you anon because this request has been sitting in my inbox, collecting dust because I had no idea how to even come up with anything but here we are bitch.

decided to do OC because... I'm loving the OC streak that I'm on right now.

also, OC is written as a black woman in mind, I don't describe her in detail just yet.

There will be a part 2 yall don't worry

(Not my gif)

And that damn Don Julio made me a fool for you…

•• ••

Sunday mornings were for soaking in the regrets of Saturday night events, they were for dealing with pounding hangovers and lounging on the couch to recover. At least that's how most of her Sundays went and this one was no different. Light snores left her lips while the heat of the morning sun beamed on her bare back warming up her skin. She groaned as the heat became too much, suddenly she wished she hadn't been so drunk last night, she would've been able to close the curtains. She pulled the covers over her body and smiled, that felt better. She readjusted herself, getting in a more comfortable position, she sighed her eyes opening just for a millisecond but, in that quick time, she noticed something off.

Her room was blue... well no it wasn't, her room was actually Sage green. There were posters on her wall of old movies and her favourite artists, this wall didn't have any. Her eyes blew wide open when she realized the lack of softness in her pillow, well it wasn't a pillow at all it was someone's chest—slowlyrisingand falling with sleep. She sighed, of course, she had to start her Sunday in a stranger's bed. Honey sat up slowly, sleep very apparent in her bones as she stretched and her joints cracked, her head felt heavy and her eyes narrowed as she squinted away the bright light of the sun's beams. She groaned tossing the covers off of her legs, her lower half scantily clad, she laughed to herself and shook her head.

Her feet met the cold floor, she grabbed a shirt, she could only assume it was his, oh well-- he wouldn't mind would he?

Honey stumbled through the halls looking for a bathroom, her bladder full of last night's drinks and after pushing every door open she was finally successful in finding a bathroom. She closed the door for privacy while she handled her business as if this man hadn't seen every inch of her business the night before. Once she was done she wiped and flushed, washed her hands and splashed a bit of cold water on her face waking herself up and hoping to stay awake long enough to get home safely. She opened the door and flicked off the light making her way back to the room.

As she walked down the hall she noticed a wall of photos in her peripheral, she was curious and decided to take a quick look at the photos. She smiled at a family picture, two adults and two young children-- a boy with a bowl cut and a little girl with pigtails. Her head tilted. "Kinda looks like Cherry when she was a kid." Honey quietly said to herself. Her eyes scanned the wall, another picture of the children catching her attention, the boy doing bunny ears behind his sister while she cried. It looked... familiar. As if she'd seen it before. And, again, the little girl looked like Cherry. Cherry was Honey's best friend since kindergarten, you couldn't see one without the other, they were attached at the hip. Cherry did have an older brother, Christopher but everyone called him Rio, and if Honey remembered correctly... he did have a... bowl cut when they were younger.

Her heart dropped at the realization, she gasped softly. "No... no, no, no."

She quickly walked back to the room, she stood behind the wall taking in a deep breath before she leered past it to poke her head into the door frame. The not-so-mysterious man was now lying on his side, facing her, eyes still closed. Honey covered her mouth in utter shock, there was no way this was happening. Her eyes fell to the floor, their clothes mixed and scattered all over the boards along with an empty bottle of Don Julio 1942. She had to get the fuck out before he woke up, she quietly thanked God that Cherry was always at her man's house otherwise this would've been a very awkward morning. She tiptoed back inside the room, bending down to scoop up her pants, her top, her bra and her panties... sigh... where were her panties?

Honey shuffled around looking on top of his dresser, inside the drawers and under the bed. She couldn't find them, she'd have to leave them. She pulled on her pants and swapped his shirt for her own, she was putting her faux locs in a quick bun when suddenly her phone rang at a violently loud volume, it even vibrated against the wood of his nightstand.

"Shit! Shut up!" She whined through gritted teeth, in an attempt to quickly grab the phone she tripped over the empty bottle of tequila, just her luck. The loud thud caused a stirring in the bed, Rio groaned and yawned carefully sitting up. He shielded his eyes from the sunlight and shook his head, he had a pounding headache. "What the fuuuck." He grunted at the phone. Eventually, it stopped, and he blindly picked it up to see who it was. A missed call from his little sister, Cherry, but the longer he stared at the screen he noticed a picture of her and her best friend. His eyes popped, his lips parted slightly.

"Honey..." He called out unsurely and with the slight hope that she wasn't in the house.

"...Yeah?" She answered from the floor. "Oh... shit."

"Yup."

Honey got off the floor, stood on her feet and smiled sheepishly. "Hi..."

"Hi..." He returned. Rio scanned the room, his eyes widening at the empty bottle of Tequila, his hands covering his eyes. But even though this was not an ideal situation, his seeming frustration or maybe regret made her feel a way.

She'd always had a crush on Rio, but being her best friend's older brother, it was an unspoken rule that he was off limits. So, Honey just admired him from afar. God, he was... something. He was handsome. So fine. And the older he got, the better. He'd gotten taller, facial hair had grown in but those pretty brown eyes remained the same along with that charming smirk he always had. Then came the haircut and the tattoos and... oof! It levelled him up.

Rio cleared his throat, Honey blinked a few times realizing she'd been caught in her trance. "Sorry... I- sorry." Though she didn't know what she was apologizing for. She grabbed her phone and the rest of her stuff and dashed downstairs. Rio shook his head, "Wait." He mumbled still dazed with sleep and a wicked hangover.

"Honey-"

The front door slammed. Honey fumbled with her car keys, and as bad as driving intoxicated is— she quietly hoped she didn't drive here completely sober. Intentionally pulling up to fuck Cherry's brother? She would never let herself live it down. Fuck.

Her car started, the heavy engine rumbling and vibrating the walls of the Martínez house. Her tires screeched getting herself the fuck out of there.

Once she got home she slumped onto the couch, she checked her phone. Seven missed calls from Cherry, and a slew of text messages asking if she was okay, if she needed someone to talk to. Honey squinted trying to remember what happened, what would have her friend in a panic state. What did she do?

A hesitant finger hovered over her name in the call log, Honey tapped it and the phone rang only once before Cherry picked up. "Honey!? Bitch! Where were you? Are you okay?"

"I'm- Cher, I'm fine. I'm sorry if I scared you. But what... did I say?"

Cherry said, "You called me, you were crying about Julien," Her ex. "And then you left me a voice note like an hour later slurring your words, and then you were talking to someone else but— were you with him last night?"

She threw her head back on the cushion of the couch. "No, I wasn't with him I was with... someone else. Fuck. Look, I need some coffee in my system, my head is killing me. I'll call you tonight, and again I'm sorry for scaring you."

Also sorry for sleeping with your brother.

"It's fine, I'm just glad you're safe and... home?"

"Yes, home, I am home." She said nervously. "Okay, well, I'll talk to you later then. Love you."

"Love you too... bye."

The call ended, she tossed her phone on the couch. She had to at least try and remember what happened last night.

If you liked this fic free to like this fic, likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated.

peace and love, see you in the next one 🤙🏾

🏷: @darqchilddaydreamz @rio-reid-whoreee @skyesthebomb @bigenergy777 @realhotgurlshit @lovedlover

[topknot32]

Girl Dad (2/2)

Rio/OFC

summary- Rio sees his pregnant ex-girlfriend out one night not long after their breakup. He seizes the opportunity, and tries to persuade her to let him be in his kid's life, and hers, too.

warnings- 18+. Smut below the cut

word count- 3.4K

CAMILA

The smell of cigarette smoke had always been a turn off for Camila, always. Until she met Rio. Now, the smell of menthol and cedar wood cologne were comforts. The combination was entirely Christopher, and she breathed it in as he held her in the middle of the restaurant without a care who saw them.

She could blame it on hormones all she wanted, but in truth, she missed him. The few weeks they spent being consumed by one another were some of the best she ever had. There were several moments in their affair when she believed it could be something real, that he might not be the stereotype she'd originally labeled him as.

But every time she opened her mouth to tell her friends and family, something held her back. It was the lifestyle. The unpredictable and dangerous way he lived his life when they weren't together. Christopher had never involved her in his business, but she wasn't stupid or naive.

Camila understood the money he earned to buy luxury vehicles and expensive jewelry wasn't brought in by honest means. That part didn't bother her, no. The part that did was the danger it posed to him. He'd been shot, he told her so, and she'd seen the scars. She was a nurse, she knew what the three healed wounds on his chest were before he even said the words. Getting attached to someone who could end up getting themselves killed was terrifying no matter how much she enjoyed his company and getting pregnant by him was equally so.

When she looked up as he held her, she forgot all of that. He stared down at her with the kind of intensity that made butterflies take flight in her stomach, and she chanced a glance down at his lips. When Christopher put all his attention on her, no one else existed.

"Sorry for the waterworks. I always thought pregnancy hormones were an over dramatization, but nope. They are, in fact, very real."

"You good?" he asked after brushing away the remaining tears from her cheeks. She nodded just as the waitress came over with her salad.

Camila straightened up, and Chris released her, but he didn't retreat. He stayed on her side of the booth while she ate, an arm thrown up behind her on the back of the seat.

The winds seemed to have shifted between them since his apology. She didn't feel as angry, and he didn't seem as arrogant or confrontational. It didn't feel awkward between the two, and a comfortable kind of silence settled over them.

When Camila was finished, Chris brushed a few fallen strands of hair behind her ear. "Come home with me," he said softly, sending a chill down her spine.

She avoided looking at him because the second she did, she'd cave. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not?"

He looks irresistible, she thought. "It's just not."

"Please."

The way that one word left his lips pulled her gaze. She could get lost in his brown eyes, and she nearly did. He gave her one of those up and down glances that made her breathe quicken, the kind he snuck so quickly she wasn't even sure if she really saw it.

"I don't—"

"Don't fight me. We don't have to do anything. That's not what this is." He motioned between them with a silver ringed hand. "Let me take care of you. It's the least I can do."

"I have to work early," she tried, but he brushed that off before she'd barely gotten the words out.

"I'll have you tucked in before midnight. Come on."

Chris pulled out his wallet and threw down a few bills, then pulled out his beanie and slid it on. He was always a good tipper, having sympathy for people in the service industry. She admired him for it. Wealth hadn't made him selfish, at least not in that aspect.

He helped her out of the booth, holding her hand like a gentleman. His black SUV was parked on the street just a block away, and once they were inside, he turned up the heat for her sake, knowing how much she hated to be cold. It was a warm cocoon that smelled like him, enveloping her in a sense of calm and safety she hadn't felt since she ended their relationship.

Rap music played quietly, not too loud to interrupt a conversation if she wanted to start one, and it seemed like he was waiting for just that. His fingers tapped a soft beat on the steering wheel as he drove, and he glanced her way every so often.

"I don't want you to pay for things," she said after a while. Chris looked over, a frown forming. "You said you wanted to help, to pay for stuff for the baby."

“And that’s a problem?”

Camila took in a deep, shaky breath. "I don't want to be a single mom, to do all of this alone." She shifted a little in her seat to see him better. She could tell by the tension in his jawline he didn't like the words coming out of her mouth. "Did you mean what you said, about Beth?"

He laughed, a sarcastic kind of laugh. She hated it. "I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it. I figured you knew that by now."

"If she's nothing to you, then do this with me. I don't want your money, I can do that myself. I want you in it, too. All the way. Like, up all night, no sleep, covered in puke all the way."

The sarcastic humor vanished as he processed. He looked over at her, then back at the road. "You're serious?"

"I'm not saying I want to get back together, but I need you, Christopher."

"You have me," he said softly, reaching over to take her hand. "I promise."

Inside his apartment, Christopher pulled his jacket off, heading for the bedroom. Camila always loved his place. The open concept, the warm touches of wood and leather, the photographs.

"Strip," he said, dragging his sweatshirt off next. With his back to her, she admired the newly exposed tan skin, the muscles rippling as he moved. She loved the way his jeans hung on his hips.

She had to drag her eyes away from the lines of his hip bones. "I'm not sleeping with you."

He looked back over his shoulder, hands reaching for his belt buckle. "I'm a grown man, Camila. I can see you naked and not have to fuck. Do what I said."

He disappeared around the corner into the bathroom where she heard the sound of the shower turning on. Her stomach did a nervous flip, but she was happy to be here. She kicked off her shoes and pulled her own sweatshirt off, leaving her in jeans and a lace bralette in her favorite shade of lavender.

He was already in the shower by the time she came in. It was a massive glass box of smooth, black tile with two shower heads, one on each side. His back was to her as she unfastened her jeans and pushed them down along with her panties, then stripped off the bralette, leaving her naked. Next, Camila pulled the hair tie from her hair and let it fall. The steamy air in the bathroom felt like heaven on her skin, the tense muscles in her neck and shoulders already loosening.

When she stepped into the shower, Christopher glanced at her with heavy eyes, drinking her in slowly, like it was the first time, but he kept his distance. She liked the way he looked at her, like she was something rare and special to behold. He turned so he could see her better, but they stayed beneath their separate sprays.

While Camila washed her hair, she snuck a few glances at his perfectly tan, tattooed body. If he saw, he didn't make it known, or at least he didn't chastise her for it. She could admire him for hours and not get tired of the view. With an internal scolding, she turned so he was out of her line of sight.

She found her thoughts drifting to a very similar scene, but a different time. A series of many different times in this very room when there was no space between them, just skin on skin, his long fingers tangled in her hair, lips exploring every single inch of her body. When desire was the ruler of her emotions.

Fingertips brushing the wet hair off the back of her neck and over her shoulder yanked Camila back to now, and her heart nearly stopped. Christopher was standing beneath the spray just behind her. She'd been so wrapped up in her thoughts she hadn't even noticed him come over.

"Where you at?" he hummed, pressing his lips to the spot where her neck and shoulder connected.

Camila shivered, hyper aware of how close he was behind her, the heat of his body giving her goosebumps. His fingers ran down her arm where he laced them through hers, pulling her hand up to press a kiss to the center of her palm. The other hand slid around her waist, resting right over her abdomen.

"I was just thinking," she said softly, eyes fluttering closed.

"About what?"

The sound of his voice was enough to make her melt into him, and she found all rational thought disappearing.

"Us."

She felt him chuckle—a slow, sleepy sound as he kissed his way across her shoulder blade. "Quit makin' me ask and say what's on your mind."

Camila turned her head to see him better, and he looked down with half lidded eyes. He was irresistible, water dripping down his face, his focus entirely on her. Surprising even herself, she leaned up and connected their lips, answering his question without words.

Christopher didn't deny her. He kissed her back, deep and slow, eliciting feelings only he knew how to. It was a sensation she'd desperately missed. She tried to turn in his arms, but he held firm, keeping her right where she was. Keeping her under his control. When he pulled back, he released her hand and cupped her cheek.

"Stop it," he whispered, and she blushed, but kept eye contact.

It was a battle of wills. She waited to see if he would kiss her again, and he waited to see what she wanted, what she was thinking. She could feel his cock hardening, pressing into the small of her back, but he made no move to push her further.

"Tell me what you want, Camila," he said, ghosting his lips across hers, but pulling back when she tried to kiss him.

"Christopher—"

"No."

She bit her bottom lip, drawing his eyes down to the movement. Wanting him and asking for it were two different things. In her mind, she wanted him to let go of his restraints, for him to devour her like only he could, but she didn't know how to say that out loud.

Christopher waited patiently, holding her body tight to him, but there was that look in his eye that told her he wanted an answer.

"I want you," she finally whispered, feeling the heat of embarrassment spreading up from her chest.

He grinned. "You have me. All wrapped around your pretty finger."

“You know what I mean."

"You should be really clear because what I think you might mean, you told me wasn't gonna happen."

The hand on her abdomen slipped lower, and her heart jumped into her throat. His fingertips drew shapes just above where she wanted them. She shifted back, connecting their lower bodies firmly, making a sharp breath leave his chest. He was hard as a rock now. Heat pooled in her lower body that had nothing to do with the temperature of the shower.

"Please fuck me," she managed to get out, leaning up to kiss him again, the words vibrating against his mouth. He let her have it this time, slipping his tongue between her lips to tangle with her own.

He nudged her forward toward the shower wall just out of the spray. She nearly cried with relief. Christopher took her hand again, raising it to rest against the tile, his covering hers as his other finally dipped between her legs, brushing over her clit, making her shudder.

She pulled away from his lips, dropping her forehead and resting it against the tile. His fingers worked over her dripping pussy, mouth dropping to her shoulder, teeth grazing the skin there. It was everything she'd been daydreaming about, but everything she said she wouldn't do if she came here. And yet she needed it, needed him.

He moved his hand lower, slipping a finger inside her, and the groan that came from his lips could've made her come right on the spot. He added a second finger and pumped them slow and torturous. It felt like heaven, but it wasn't enough.

"Please," she begged, resting her other hand on the tile, lips parting when his fingers curled in a way that made her cry out.

"Fuck, Camila." He removed his fingers and used his knee to knock her thighs wider apart. The thought that he was as eager as she was made her body flush even more. He used his free hand to guide his cock to her entrance, and pushed inside.

She tried to pull her hand under his free from the wall, but he held her there, forcing the other one up, caging her in, sinking himself deeper inside her. He stayed like that for what felt like forever, letting her body adjust to him by just barely pulsing in and out of her as he kissed every inch of skin he could reach. After tormenting her for several agonizing moments, his hips moved quicker, body pressing flat against hers.

"Your pussy feels so goddamn good, baby," he whispered in her ear, making her legs turn to jelly as he fucked her. "I missed this, I missed you."

He finally let her hands go, running one up her body to squeeze one of her breasts, brushing over her nipple with his thumb. It sent shocks of electricity straight between her legs, and she gasped, chin dropping to her chest.

Christopher leaned forward and kissed her jaw, teeth nipping at the skin. "Did you miss me, too?"

"Yes." She could barely form words. His cock stroked magic along her walls, his thrusts forceful and fast enough to make her lose her breath.

His hand moved back down between her legs, circling her clit with expert precision. "Tell me."

"Yes, I missed you," she gasped, latching onto his forearm and digging her nails in hard enough to leave indents. A ball of pleasure had begun to form in her lower body.

"I want you to come for me, baby,"

She moaned his name, unable to hold it in at his encouragement, the sound of his hips snapping against hers making her tremble. He took her chin in his other hand and forced her to look up at him, to meet his gaze. She could feel herself falling apart, and by the way he stared down at her, he liked the mess he'd made. Her eyes fluttered closed as she reached the precipice, so close to tipping over the edge into sheer bliss.

"Look at me," he whispered, his own pleasure thick in his voice. She opened her eyes, her lips parting as the hunger in his voice made the ball of pleasure explode.

The orgasm took her breath away, snatching it right from her chest, but Christopher held her tight and fucked her through it, not giving her an inch of space to pull back. It went on for what felt like forever, sapping every ounce of energy from her, and she was grateful for his grip or she would've dropped like a stone.

Just as hers was dissipating, his hit him full force, and she gazed up at him with heavy, satiated eyes. She loved the way his own eyes closed, his mouth dropping open, breath hitching in his chest. When Christopher opened his eyes again, he stole a kiss, his cock softening inside her. He pulled out and rested his forehead against her shoulder to catch his breath.

The water was still running hot, and Camila had to thank whoever installed the water heater in his building. When her legs felt steady enough, she pulled out of his hold and moved back under the spray, washing away the sweat and come from her skin. Christopher watched her with a half smirk, looking satisfied.

He joined her under the spray, pressing a hand to the tiny bump of her abdomen, the other running up from her ass to the cradle back of her neck. "Boy or girl," he asked.

It was a question she'd pondered for hours and hours over the last few weeks. Who would this little life be?

"Girl," she finally said, leaning up to kiss him. "You've got 'girl dad' in your DNA."

Christopher laughed, the smile covering his entire face, and Camila couldn't help but be smitten. "Why would you wish that on me? A lifetime of ass beatings and threats."

"Come on, I'm getting wrinkly."

Camila stepped out of the shower on shaky legs, Christopher right behind. She slipped into a robe on the hook on the wall and brushed her fingers through her hair, looking herself over in the mirror. He came to stand behind her, a towel tied around his waist.

He watched her as she pulled bottles from the cabinets—facial serum and moisturizers she'd stocked here when they were together. It warmed her heart to find them right where she left them, completely untouched like he knew she would be back.

"So, a girl, huh?" he asked, and she met his gaze in the mirror.

"I hope so."

He smiled, but shook his head. "I guess I should start prayin' now. I got a lot of bad karma just waitin' to rain down on my head."

"Hey, it's going to be okay either way."

He took a step forward and hugged her from behind, squeezing her tight and pressing a kiss to her temple. "Yeah, we will."

Finally, while she was putting lotion on her legs, he walked out of the bathroom, leaving her to finish getting ready for bed in a peaceful silence. By the time she was finished, Christopher had changed into sweats and pulled down the covers on the bed. He was putting on deodorant when she came back in.

"Get in bed, mama," he said, turning out the lights, leaving them in near darkness except for the city lights shining in through the enormous windows.

Camila thought the way he demanded nearly everything in life would get under her skin and drive them apart, but after the last few weeks of work without him around, she relished the way she could turn her mind off. It made her feel cozy and warm inside.

She slid between the sheets on her side of the bed, and he followed after adjusting the thermostat and closing the door. They laid beside each other for a while without speaking until he broke the silence.

"See, tucked in before midnight," he said, and she could hear the smirk without even seeing his face.

"I do believe I said coming home with you was a bad idea, though, and I was right."

He laughed. "My intentions were pure, I promise. You were the poor influence."

She reached out and swatted at his chest. Christopher snatched her up by the wrist and dragged her into his chest. She wound her arms around his waist and pressed a kiss to one of the scars on his chest—the bullet wound that'd pierced through to his lung. The one that nearly killed him.

"I want you to fire her," Camila said softly.

"What?"

She sat up a little so she could see his face. "Beth. She almost killed you once. She should never get the chance to try again."

The wheels turned inside his head, she could see it as he held her gaze. "You gonna stick around this time?"

"I'm here aren't I?"

"You gonna keep me a secret?" One of his eyebrows cocked curiously. "I give a little, you give a little, sweetheart." He brushed a finger over her bottom lip.

"No, you won't be a secret."

Christopher kissed her softly. "Good."

[ghostflowerhotpotch]

You considered what happened at the tower as her shutting him down? Even with all that, Miles isn't phased and that reassurance from Miles brings a smile to her face and she affectionately leans on him

Honestly? That's a good point, because there is merit to this part of the conversation as well.

As always, I think we need to examine the context from the bit that happened before, because the set up really speaks a lot of about the rest of the experience.

So let's start with this interaction of Miles and Gwen, because the first time I saw it hit me hard.

This situation hit me because by knowing Gwen's background, you can understand exactly where is coming, and it makes it hurt even more.

Miles is conflicted about his secret identity, specially with his parents, who are understandably pissed off (I may do an analysis on that, is not ghostflower, but I think there is some stuff worth pointing out.) And let me be clear here, I do think Rio and Jeff should know, I think while they could freak out, it can work out.

But honestly Gwen's reaction is so natural having her said anything else would be weird.

We don't know how long has been since she saw her dad, but considering she confirmed months, and how her hair as grew since the beginning scene to this moment, it has indeed been awhile. And I don't fault for refusing to come back even after all this time.

Her dad tried to point a gun at her, even after she took her mask away; after everything she has been through, after begging him to listen, there is no words to describe how much that must had hurt. How this society, with all the spiders they have, with Jessica Drew, Hobie and Miguel, still cannot fix that.

So is natural that she quickly tells no to Miles, she doesn't want to him to live that, and she may not know them, but she never thought her dad would truly be afraid of her and look at what happened. I can't blame her for it.

What caught my attention, however, was what she did next.

She decides to sit upside down.

Now, you probably had hear before that a lot of things there is a second meaning behind certain shots in movies. In animation that goes even harder considering how you need to work things from scratch, and as wonderful as it is the shot of Gwen going upside down, I think they were going for something more than beauty.

By Gwen doing something like this, is going to somewhere a regular person could never go, what a regular person couldn't attempt to do without risking their life.

I think this choice is very deliberately because at this point, being spiderwoman is all she has.

She needed to leave the life of Gwen Stacy when she left that night, her school life, her old band mates (who in the comics are her friends and we can see saying hello in the flash back of the dance), her dad, is all gone.

Yes she is learning so much, she is happy to have Jessica as her mentor, she really things she is doing something good here. But I also thing she is clinging to this all the harder because she doesn't have much else in her life.

Yes she is happy with Hobie as her friend and plays in his dimension, but you can see that isn't enough. We can see proof of this later.

This also means getting away from Miles' sight, almost like hiding, and yet not far enough he cannot come to get her.

Maybe I am getting a bit too sentimental here, but this is a good example of the rest of the scene, push and pull, she thinking they can't, but wanting so much to do so.

I am not sure how much Miles meant that, since I think he still looks conflicted earlier. Regardless, something that I like about this, is that he listens to her.

He knows Gwen is in a very painful position, and while he has good reasons to believe his parents are different, he doesn't try to fight it. And more than that, I think he actually takes into consideration her words and tries to see it in a different light. A softer one.

I had seen some people say Miles is the sunshine of the relationship while Gwen is gloom and doom, and while I still think that is oversimplifying their situation too much, this moment shows a bit of that, and also, another reason why Gwen likes talking to him.

I really like this detail, I think Miles being able to make a situation less grim is something that I think Gwen feels is like Miles place in her life, to make things that used to hurt her (being spiderwoman, since she liked it but it has made such damage to her life,) actually made her happy again.

Also, look at the space between them; I think this shows even more than Miles is conscious of the type of pain Gwen was when she decided to climb here, and he gets back to her, but gives her space just in case.

Of course Miles cannot help but boost himself, though you can see that he is trying to make it sound almost like a joke. I wonder if his uncle would be proud at his attempts of being smooth, because while not perfect hey, they are working for Gwen.

Because regardless if she thinks is a good joke or not, she did laugh.

And I think after Gwen having her cool for most of the time, seeing Miles get a bit more confident is sweet, and also some progress showing that he has indeed feeling surer of himself.

I think Gwen knows she is kind of encouraging him to continue.

I like to point out that Gwen looks back him while saying this, almost like indicating that hey, we are still talking dummy, you don't need to stay back.

Back again, Gwen wants her distance, wants to use the mantle spiderwoman and the powers that come with them to not face the rest of the world; but she also makes sure that Miles can get to her still.

Miles obviously, doesn't know Gwen's feelings, and I don't think he realized how much her time with him has meant for her; and in this scene shows.

Including how he asks again, if she really means it.

And decides to get closer to her when she repeats it.

Once more, maybe is me looking for things where there aren't any, but I think is a nice touch that Miles gives Gwen his space, and she still reminds her she is here for him, and is all he needs to close some of the distance between each other.

It's funny, at first I thought I didn't have anything to say about this particular exchange, except that now that I see it in slow-motion and after analyzing the other scenes, it does feel that it carries more meaning.

Because in this scene, Gwen attributes that part of the reason she likes to talk to him, is because there isn't a lot of people they can talk about being super heroes, and Miles agrees.

Which if you think about it, it has a point, the reason why they met, and also got along so well, was for being spiders. We can see it in the bus, of how Gwen is having fun talking with Miles and actually wanting to preserve that moment with him.

Yet, that isn't the entire story, now is isn't?

Man I wish I could get the entire clip, there is so many little things. The looks Miles gives to Gwen, how Gwen tries to not look at her but she continues smiling and briefly looking at his direction.

But it does bring an important point, that is not the entire reason they get along so well.

Gwen had the opportunity to met other spider people, including teens. Peni is in the society, Pavitr, Margo, Hobie, a lot of Peters- unlike Miles, who has been on his own for this year and few months, Gwen had the chance to met other spider people, to get other friendships with people who understood.

And yet she is still here, having this conversation, claiming how is different with him.

Even after having so many possibilities to met other people, to have other people to talk about this, she still wanted Miles.

Just like us, he caught onto that; and we know why he is asking, he knows why he is asking, and Gwen probably too.

The conversation is still pretty light in tone, Miles is throwing away a piece of debris that he picked from his suit (huh wonder if he was just taking dirt out because he nervously was picking his suit,) Gwen is still smiling. We all knows what they are truly hinting here, but no one is saying it.

Sure hun.

But seriously, I do wonder if Gwen is also thinking about that. Like I doubt she isn't aware of her feelings for Miles, she certainly is aware of his, and the way they interact is layered by their crush in every interaction.

What I am curious of, if she wonders why is Miles the person she is still thinking about, how not a band was enough, how the spider society isn't enough, that she is still here having this conversation even when knowing she should be doing a mission.

This last panel certainly makes me think in that direction, that she is still wondering, what Miles has that she can't get out of her mind.

Gwen is still thinking, trying to get the words, but Miles seems pretty sure of his choice.

And I think she likes her explanation too.

Miles says that they are the same in the important ways, and what Gwen says next almost seems to make it believe she agrees.

Because her next words are a confession, or as close as we get in this conversation full of metaphors and second meanings.

Sorry, I try to not go crazy with so many images, but I think every frame is important here.

First the subtle happiness of Miles hearing that, of knowing what it must mean if Gwen is telling this to him, here and now.

How she looks back at her, almost like he needs to confirm what he heard, and when he realizes she is still looking at the horizon, he looks down at their hands.

And he tries to get closer.

Once again, slowly, letting the chance to go away; as always, Miles tries to respect Gwen's space and let her dictate the tone.

And she doesn't miss in what he is trying to do.

AAAAAND I realized I got to the maximun number of images on a post (oops.)

Sorry anon for basically not answering your question, but I got too deep into this ramble for me to delete some of it now.

PART 2

[fhatbhabiee]

Peligro

Javier Gutiérrez x Reader

inspired by the song Peligro by Aventura

word count: 712

warnings: toxic!reader, money mooching!reader, toxic relationship, reader is referred to as the devil, angst, spanish dialect w english translations (no need for the SAP button), told from Javi's POV, divorce

note: i'm fully aware this is something 100% different from all the other stuff on here and i too know it won't be everyone's cup of tea. as i've said before- if you don't like it don't bite it. if you have a problem with this guess what i put as much as i could in the warnings so don't get mad at me bc you refuse to read them. but for those who do read it- i hope you enjoy 🤍

“Javier no se como me siento de tu esposa.” (Javier I don't know how I feel about your wife)

“Mama por favor…” (Mom please…)

“No puedes ver como te trata?” (Can you see how she treats you?)

I leaned back in my chair and let my mind wander. My mother had a point- you weren't the best girl I had been with but you were my wife. I love you.

— • —

I walked into the house, tossing my keys in the small bowl we kept by the door. You must've heard me because you came stomping into the entryway of the house.

“Where have you been?” you called out.

“My mom's house.”

“What about me Javi? What about your wife?”

I let out a small sigh and walked over to you, wrapping my arms around your waist.

“I'm sorry amor. She just wanted to catch up is all.”

“It's not like you don't see her almost every day.” you pulled away from me. “You're such a mama's boy.” you grabbed your purse and the keys to my car before walking out of the front door.

“Where are you going?” I called out as I chased after you. “Amor, wait. How about I take you shopping? To say I'm sorry for being gone all day.”

You stopped and looked over at me. “Really?” you said, eyes literally forming into dollar signs like they did in the cartoons.

“Yes amor. C'mon I'll drive, just tell me where to go.”

We spent hours in the stores, coming out with bags and bags of all the best things you wanted. Anything for my wife. But they were right- the devil does wear Prada. I know because she used my credit card.

That night we laid in bed together. You were asleep as I stayed awake, staring up at the ceiling. My mothers words rang through my ears along with everyone else's. You were dangerous- toxic, manipulative, and a cheater. After thinking about everything you've done to me for almost 3 years, I think love stopped being a reason to still be married to you.

— • —

The next morning I woke up, alone in bed. I got up and saw no sign of you anywhere. I opened your closet and saw that all your clothes and shoes were gone. I quickly ran downstairs and noticed my car keys were not in the bowl.

What else did you take?

I walked into my office and logged into my online bank account. It took a solid minute to log in but that's when I realized all my accounts were drained to zero. I walked back to my bedroom in search of my wallet but it was nowhere to be found. You had taken everything. Taken 3 years of my life, all my money and financial assets, my car-If you could you probably would have taken the house too.

I walked back downstairs, racking my mind with ideas on what the fuck to do, when I saw a stack of papers sitting on the kitchen island. Divorce papers with your wedding rings sitting on top of them. The bright yellow sticky note caught my attention more than anything though.

Me and my boyfriend will be out of the country. If you have any questions, call my attorney.

The word boyfriend hurt more than the divorce papers. I always suspected you of cheating but I thought it was just my imagination. Guess I was wrong.

— • —

“Is there anything else anyone would like to say before we finish here?” my lawyer asked.

“Can I say something?” I asked as I looked over at my now ex wife.

“Go ahead.” you said, leaning back in your seat.

“Que Diosito te mande castigo, que te hagan lo mismo y me pidas perdón. Así yo me rio en tu cara y celebro tu pena por esa traición.” (May God punish you, have him do the same you did to me and you ask me for forgiveness. That way I can laugh in your face and celebrate your embarrassment for that betrayal.)

You chuckled and sat up, leaning against the table. “Que lo sueñas Javier.” (Dream about it Javier.)

“Oh I will.” I got up and walked out of the room, never looking back again.

beta'd: @nerdieforpedro & @ilovepedro thank you ilysm 💕

divider: @saradika-graphics

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[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

A Clean Slate

Chapter Twelve of Sweet Home Alabama

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x OC (Linley Mitchell/Floyd), Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x OC (Linley Mitchell/Floyd)

Description: After Bradley leaves you at the field, you feel adrift. Everything hurts, and in more ways than you'd ever thought possible. It seems like your life encounters disaster after disaster the more time you spend in Pigeon Creek. Is it any wonder that you jump for the chance at recovering the life you've got when Bradley shows up at your house again?

Themes: love, attraction, angst, sex, cheating, lying

Warnings: Carole being, Carole. She's a warning in and of herself!

Word Count: 4028

A/N: Here we see the aftermath of Bradley's time in Pigeon Creek. Linley's really not feeling great about Bradley anymore. This chapter is where we start to see it. I'm sorry this chapter is late!

AO3: Cross-posted here!

Wattpad: Cross-posted here!

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Your heart feels like it’s shattered into a billion pieces as you find your dad and let him take you home. There’s no way you’re going back to New York today. You feel like you should stay away from the city and lick your wounds in peace a while longer. Carole will be all up in your face, and so will the press, you’re sure, the moment you set foot in your apartment. There’s so much you’ll have to do now. Apologize to Bradley and Carole, return the ring to him, and possibly draft a statement for the press. It makes your stomach roil and your head ache thinking about it.

“Hey, kiddo, I’m making a batch of that plum jam you love so much. Do you want a jar to take back home with you?” 

You don’t respond. You’re draped over the sofa with a wet rag over your face. A part of you is hoping it will fix all of your problems like it’s fixing your migraine. But they don’t go away. Right now, you have two problems you need to solve. The problem between your dad and Bradley, and the problems between you and Bradley.

“Yeah, I’ll take a jar.” You sit upright with a sigh, letting the rag fall into your arms. 

“Dad?”

“Hmm?”

“What happened between you and the Bradshaws?” You start pacing back and forth in your living room, one, two, three, four steps, about turn, repeat.

“It’s not an easy story to hear. It’s not an easy story to tell. Before I say a word, I need you to know. I wanted to protect you from the man I was when I was in the Navy. I regret so many of my actions during that time. The only thing I don’t is having you.” He sounds exhausted, but you have to know.

You sob a little. “Please, daddy. I have to know. I love Bradley. I’m marrying him. I want him to be my family. I want him to be your family, too.”

For several moments, it is quiet between the two of you, only the sharp snick of your dad’s knife cutting through ripe plums punctuating the silence.

“This all happened in 1986, only a few months before I met your mom. Goose was my best friend in the whole world. I met him on my first rotation aboard ship when I joined the Navy. I’ve told you about my dad, right, kiddo? About how he was considered MIA in Vietnam?” You nod, because you are more than aware. “They used to haze me, beat me up, blame me for every problem. I learned pretty quickly after joining the Navy to never trust another soul. There’d be nobody who could look out for me like I could look out f0r myself. I went through RIO after RIO. Nobody wanted to work with a traitor’s kid. Until I met Goose. Goose protected me from those in my squadron who considered Duke Mitchell’s kid to be as traitorous as his father.”

Your dad sniffles and it’s all you can do to keep from sobbing in concert.

“He was my best friend, my family. We spent every leave together, took liberty together, caused mischief together. When he met Carole, I thought everything would change. But I hadn’t lost my brother. I’d gained a sister instead. I was the best man at their wedding. I wanted to scream from the rooftops when they told me they were expecting. I would have done anything for Goose and Carole. When they put Bradley in my arms at the hospital and told me I was his godfather, I would have done anything for him too.”

“When Bradley was two years old, Goose and I were called to Top Gun.” He hums gently, pulling another plum from the colossal stack and cutting into it. He doesn’t waste a single drop of the sweet juice.

“We were cocky. We thought we were the best of the best. But so did everyone else there. It was hard. We fought for our place in the rankings every day. Family day came and went, bringing Carole and Bradley to North Island.” He has a sad smile on his face as he methodically cuts up plum after plum. “Goose was so happy to see them. We took them out on the town, showed them around North Island. We did everything to make their visit the happiest. Then Hop 31 happened. I flew through your Uncle Ice’s jetwash, we went into a flat spin, and the engines failed. We had to eject. The canopy didn’t eject fully and since Goose pulled his ejector first, he hit the canopy. It severely compacted his spine.”

“The Navy had to discharge him honorably on medical grounds. There was an investigation afterward, one in which I was cleared. But after nearly losing Goose, I never wanted to fly again. So I left the Navy. I went to New York a few times after the accident to see Goose and Carole and Bradley. But it wasn’t the same. Goose and I were the same, but Carole? Carole looked at me with hatred in her eyes. By hurting Goose, I destroyed all of the hopes she had in expanding her family. She always wanted to give Bradley little brothers and sisters. My third or fourth time in New York, she told me never to come back again. She said it was hurting Goose too much to see me walking around when he’d never be able to again. So I never went back to New York. I never saw my brother again.”

You wrap your arms around your dad, relishing in the scent of his cologne, motor oil and fragrant plum juice.

“Thank you for telling me, Dad.” He grins, a crooked upturning of his lips.

That answers the question of the problems between your Dad and Bradley. You believe your dad. You also believe Bradley. His leaving New York and never coming back hurt them both - it probably hurt Goose too. You’re sure you can get the men to talk to each other in the coming months and years. But you know your romantic problems are not so easy to resolve. You did lie to your fiancé for months, hiding the most integral parts of yourself from him. Now he’s angry, and honestly, so are you. If only you hadn’t come back to Pigeon Creek. You could have told Bradley the truth in New York and taken his help to get Jake to sign the papers after all. Visions of Sheriff Garcia and officers from the Greeneville Police Department forcing Jake to sign the papers float through your imagination. But you didn’t tell Bradley earlier. Now you have to fix this problem and shove whatever it is you feel for Jake into the box where it’s been languishing for the past seven years.

“I know you’re thinkin’ that I spoiled things good this time, Dad.” Your voice is subdued, mind turning in circles at the thought of every relationship you’ve destroyed in your life - Jake, your dad, Penny, Amelia, and now Bradley.

“Oh, hon, don’t go accusin’ me of thinkin’.” His laugh rings out through the small kitchen. “I ain’t done anything of the sort.”

“Anyways, kiddo, spoiled’s in the eye of the beholder…” You stand at the counter so you can see the peace on his face as he carefully breaks down the plum in his hand. “Like these plums here. Some people might call them spoiled, but I think that these almost-ruined ones make the sweetest jam.”

It’s true. This jam is your favorite thing to have on toast, pancakes, or stirred into oatmeal. Hell, you’ve even made tea with a spoonful of the flavorful preserves and hot water.

“Do you need any help?” The grin that transforms your father’s face is enough to chase some of your thoughts away.

The quiet, methodical work settles something in your soul. You’ve always enjoyed working with your hands, and making jam seems to settle the frantic rush in your soul just as much as sewing does. You’re just bottling the jam up when there’s a knock on the door.

“I’ll go see who it is, kiddo. You keep bottling the jam.” You’re not expecting the silence when the door opens, though. Nor are you expecting the continuing silence as your unexpected visitor walks through the door.

“Hi.” Your shock must show on your face because Bradley’s quick to take your hands in his. You’re wearing an apron, and there’s a streak of sticky-sweet jam on your cheek, but he’s looking at you like he’s still in love with you. Should you be feeling hopeful now? Maybe not, but you are hopeful despite all indicators to the contrary.

“Hi. I thought you’d be halfway to New York by now.”

“So did I.”

“So why are you here, Bradley?” You need to know why he’s here. As much as you may hope that he’s here to reconcile, to tell you he forgives you, a part of you isn’t sure you can believe it until you hear it.

“I wanted to know if I’m still your fiancé, Lin, well… that is … if you’ll still have me. I really don’t care what happened down here.” He’s so clearly not looking at your dad as he says the words.

“So... you have a past. I mean, who doesn't? What I need to know is if there is a place for me in your future.” You’re frozen. There’s a part of you that isn’t sure if he’s genuine or not, but when he opens his arms to you, you melt into his embrace anyway. 

“Honey, you’ve got jam on your cheek!” His smile is sweet as he brushes it away with the pad of his thumb and licks it off. “It’s as sweet as you are.”

“So, we’re heading up to New York City, huh?” Your dad’s careful question pops the bubble you’re in, the one fueled by mad hope and love.

“Well, Mav, my mom’s the mayor, and she has her heart set on a New York wedding.” At least his tone is outwardly polite.

“I guess I can take off work for your wedding, kiddo.” You smile at your dad, grinning at him. But something about the big New York wedding Bradley had mentioned doesn’t feel right to you anymore.

“Bradley?” At his hum, you continue. “ I, um... actually, I was thinking, maybe we could have the wedding here?”

“Here?”

“In my hometown.”

“Look, Lin, if it’s the cost you’re worrying about, don’t.” It’s a little weird that money is what he’s worrying about. You may live a bit more frugally than Bradley does, but you have money. If you have to pay for a part of a New York wedding, you’re sure you can swing it.

“It’s not the money, Bradley. It’s never about the money down here.” It’s really not. There are bonds amongst the people - the community - in Pigeon Creek that you’ve never felt in New York. You have people you love in New York, sure. But you have so many people you love in Pigeon Creek, too. It doesn’t feel right celebrating without Dorothy, Mickey, Penny, Amelia, and all your old friends anymore.

There’s a smirk on his face as he grins down at you. “You know,” His town is secretive, brimming with barely concealed joy. “A lot of people are expecting us to get married in the city. But, I think a nice, quiet country wedding is just the ticket.”

“Mav, if  you could cover the rehearsal dinner, I’d really like to take care of the rest?” Your heart soars at hearing the obvious olive branch Bradley’s giving your dad.

“I think I can cover that. After all, how many times does your only daughter get married?” Your fledgling smile falls at those words from your dad’s mouth. “Other than before, kiddo.” 

New York City - Mayor’s Office

“What do you mean she’s Mav’s daughter, Bradley?” Of all of the information Bradley’s given his mother since he landed back in New York with Linley an hour ago, that’s the piece of information that she’s fixating on. He’s trailing behind her as she marches through her office like she’s on a warpath. “And then there’s the fact that she has a history with the police in Pigeon Creek?”

“She was never convicted, Mom.”

“Oh-ho! I don’t know which is worse: that she’s a child cat killer, that her dad’s a part of the sons of the Confederacy or that her dad is Maverick Fucking Mitchell.”

Bradley can’t tell which is worse either. As of now the fact that she's a Mitchell is trumping everything else. “What would you suggest I do, Mom? Dump her for being poor? Or hell, because her dad is who he is? Didn’t somebody say something about the sins of the father not applying to their children?”

Bradley walks towards the small lounge area where his mom likes to take interviews from her office. She always maintains that this particular location showcases all of her best sides. “You’re supposed to be a Democrat, remember?” He sits down on the sofa as he asks her that question.

“There is nothing wrong with being poor.” His mom’s eyes flash as she stares him down. “I get elected by poor people. And I’m a big enough person to commend her for making something of herself.”

She sits down next to him, and it’s been so long since Bradley’s seen her as a mother that he forgot how comforting her perfume smells. “What upsets me is that she lied to you.”

To her credit, the great Carole Bradshaw does indeed look like she’s worried. Worried about Bradley, for Bradley. Though Bradley would bet that her true worry is over the nosedive her polling numbers are going to take once they find out that Bradley’s marrying a nobody turned semi-successful fashion designer instead of a Southern heiress turned semi-successful fashion designer. 

His tone is deliberately nonchalant as he looks at his mom. “So what? She was ashamed of her background. Who hasn’t been embarrassed by their parents at one point?”

Bradley’s poking the bear. He has been embarrassed by both of his parents. When he was younger his embarrassment was in how they were always all over each other. Their love was disgusting in that wholly teenage way. Now, Bradley’s constantly embarrassed by the fact that his mom is so controlling over his life; because she insists that she knows best even though he’s thirty years old.

“I’m going to assume that was a rhetorical question.” Bradley’s quite content to let her think so.

“Assume away.” The fact that she’s still glaring as she walks away means that he’s hit a sensitive spot. But it has him rising as well, because he’s not going to let her intimidate him into doing something he doesn’t want to.

“No one is going to change my mind about this.” Bradley’s sure she’s going to try to dissuade him, again. “Not you, not the media, not anyone.”

“Fine, Brad. But admit it, I was right.” There’s victory in her gaze as she walks up to face him down.

“Yes, you were right. But she came clean. Now can we move on?” Please, can Carole Bradshaw’s one track mind be de-railed already?

“There is a wedding in your future, after all, whether you like it or not.” As if Bradley could forget - he’s just mentioning the wedding to get his mom off of the Linley and lying topic. It’s a decision he’s still not sure of. In truth he’d headed back to the Mitchell house in Pigeon Creek because he’d taken a look at his own polling numbers. People loved the fact that he was engaged. Then there’s Linley’s own chosen profession. It would be easy enough for her to stop fashion designing if his career demanded it. He could use a lovely leading lady on his arm after all for the endless rounds of fundraising galas and for swearing-in ceremonies.

“And how, exactly, does Little Miss Alabama plan to accommodate 500 people? I suppose she has connections at the jail?” 

Hah! Bradley would pay to see Mayor Carole Bradshaw living out of a jail cell for the wedding. “Well, there are several excellent choices.” There's definitely a grin on his face as he lists out the options, if only because his mom seems angrier the more low-brow they get. “There's also a Travelodge, a Days Inn, a Motel 6 …  oh, and the Golden Cherry Motel, where we will be.”

It’s obvious she’s less than amused. “Laugh now, but if this gets out, Bradley…”

“It won’t.” Bradley’s going to ensure it. As far as the press is concerned, Bradley Bradshaw is still marrying Linley Floyd of the Greeneville Floyds. It’s going to be a closed wedding, no press. The Bradshaws will be controlling the narrative every step of the way. “Anyways, mom, the press is expecting the Plaza in June. They’re not going to find out.”

New York City - Linley’s Apartment

It feels weird being back in New York City again. You’re the same person who left New York less than a week ago, but now you can feel it, how little you fit in. You’re lying on your bed flipping idly through one of the most recommended wedding magazines of the year. But it’s not keeping your attention - nothing about place settings or napkins or flower arrangements is. If you could kick your brain, you would. All you’re thinking about is Jake. Jake, Jake, Jake. The day you fell in love. The day your life changed. The day you left. But more than those days in the past, you’re eagerly thinking about the days you’ve experienced more recently with Jake - or well maybe you should say that you’re thinking about the one night you’ve spent with Jake recently. 

It’s surreal how one night with your ex, a man you haven’t seen in nearly a decade, was more of everything you've been yearning for than the past eight months with your fiancé. Now the wedding plans are underway. It doesn’t feel right, what Bradley and his mom are planning. They’re bringing the media into town, cherry-picking journalists and photographers to spin this wedding the way they want it to be spun. Isn’t this wedding supposed to be about you and Bradley? Apparently not. Instead you feel like this is all about Bradley and his polling numbers.

The worst part is how there isn’t a person you can talk to. If you talk to Nat, all she mentions is her excitement for the wedding and how lucky you are to have Bradley in your life. But the more you think about it, the more you’re sure you only want to talk to one person. You’ve been holding yourself back from calling him for seven years now. You definitely can’t call him now. But you feel like you know exactly what he’s doing.

It’s a Sunday night, so Jake’s probably home with his mom and Amelia watching the football game. You can picture the languid sprawl his limbs are arranged in on Penny’s worn plush sofa. He’s probably wearing a football jersey and worn jeans, feet bare with Bryant curled up against his hip. His green eyes are probably narrowed at the screen, every inch of his body tense as he tracks the oblong football across the screen. Everything else will have faded away for him. The only important thing in his sights is probably the football game. There had been a time where you’d been able to pull his attention away. When you were younger, he used to pull you into his arms as he lay there on the sofa, turning you until you were comfortably ensconced in his embrace as his hands traced absent minded patterns against your stomach. That had been how he’d felt the baby kick, in those weeks before happily ever after crashed down around your ears. But now, you’re simply alone, lying on your bed and flipping through magazines with words that barely make sense, in a city which never sleeps and where you feel like you have no friends.

Or well, maybe you have one? It’s Tash on the phone, “Hey Linley! I feel like I haven’t seen you at all since you got back from Alabama!”

“Hey Tash.” Your voice is subdued as you roll across your bed, mussing the pristine sheets and knocking your pillows out of place. “I’ve missed you, too. But since I got back, I’ve just been planning the wedding.”

“Now why does it sound like you said The Wedding in all-caps?” Her gasp is over dramatic and you can practically see the way her almond shaped eyes narrow as her brain goes into overdrive. People always forget that models have brains. Nat never wanted to be a model full time. She was originally studying Business Management, wanting to start her own fashion house. But starting fashion houses needs money and influence in addition to a good head for business. “Fuck, Lin. Is Carole Bradshaw being an absolute bitch about this wedding?” 

“She’s been more than a little annoying, yeah, Tash.” It makes your skin crawl just thinking about the meeting you’d had with Carole in her sprawling penthouse apartment the day after you came back to New York. You can still remember the hopelessness you’d felt at the sight of the fabric samples, cutlery, flower arrangements, invitations and more laid across the formal dining table. Carole had disregarded every decision you’d made and by the end of the neverending decisions about the wedding, your head was splitting. That was when she’d started talking about the venue. 

“This place is gorgeous and we can control the security.” You’re not sure when she had the time to do this because she had picture after picture of the Floyd Plantation house.

“The Floyd Plantation?” It rankled a little as Carole patted your hand condescendingly.

“It did inspire your identity, didn’t it?” Oh, if only she knew. You’d picked the name of your other best friend for a reason. You’d picked Floyd as more than a wish for affluence. You’d picked Floyd as a wish for success, for happiness. It hadn’t helped that you’d seen Beau Simpson’s fakely polite smile the entire time you were at the manor either. In fact, you’re pretty sure the pictures Carole has of Floyd Plantation are from his foray into Floyd Plantation without permission.

You’re still reeling as you recount the whirlwind that Carole Bradshaw had become when you were talking about the arrangements.

“God, Lin! Did the old witch let you make any choices on your own?” You have to laugh at that. It’s obvious the Tash is calling you in between photo shoots because you can hear so much noise in the background.

“It doesn’t feel like she’s letting me pick out much, Tash. But she is letting me pick my dress, of course.” Tash’s laughter makes you laugh just a little too, your existential dread lifting just a little at the sound. “Do you want to come with me?”

“You’re serious?!” She sounds like she’s jumping up and down in her makeup chair.

“You’re one of my best friends, Tash! Of course I want you there!”

The next four weeks are filled with conversations like that one - light and easy but not emotionally fulfilling. You’re surrounded by more people than you ever have been in New York but you feel lonelier than ever. The night after your first wedding dress fitting, you give in to the urge and dial the number you’ve had in your thoughts ever since you left Pigeon Creek. Each ring makes the nerves and sorrow rise in your chest as you struggle to find the joy in planning this wedding. The days turn to weeks as you call and call and call. But when the busy tone turns into the announcement that the number you’re trying to reach has been disconnected, you know it’s time. You’ve made your bed, it’s time to lie in it.

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN HERE, ON WATTPAD, OR ON AO3 BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN HERE, ON WATTPAD, OR AO3, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

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