can you believe my wife draws like this and still asks me to post it with “do you think people will like it”
honey…. is the sky blue or???
Cosmic Funnies
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Love Begins
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@calexinred
can you believe my wife draws like this and still asks me to post it with “do you think people will like it”
honey…. is the sky blue or???
box o' bones rio reassembling herself but.....
She's so pretty 🥺 It makes me wanna cry 😭
Death lives a lonely life
Choked with one glance
Zabriskie Point. 6
Agatha x Rio x Reader (gender neutral) Part 6 l Happy Halloween, bitch Part 1 l Highway Honey Part 2 l Easy Rider Part 3 l Don't Fuck With Feds Part 4 l Crimson Daughters Part 5 l My Death Summary: AU. A road-movie & queer noir story inspired by Antonioni's “Zabriskie Point” and Lana Del Rey's “Ride” with a dash of Tarantino. You meet two hot bikers at a diner near the Grand Canyon, and they invite you to go on a road trip with them. Word count: 7K Warnings: NSFW 18+
Queer noir, smut. Agatha POV, Rio POV, lots of visuals, angst, hurt comfort. New characters (a lil nod to Grey's Anatomy and Killing Eve). Mommy x Daddy kinks, top!Rio, bottom!Agatha, power bottom!Agatha, power play, submission, dominance, pet names, dirty talk, banter, fingering, oral, breast play, aftercare.
tagging: @calexinred @warpdrive-witch
*** ‘Like it rough, huh?’ Says the flame-haired bitch when I lose it completely and press her against the wall. No wonder they say all cops are bastards, but it’s just…she fucking deserves it. No one messes with my women. And Agatha is mine.
‘Shut. The fuck. Up.’ I almost spit the words into her mouth.
‘What,’ she pants, ‘so scared she’ll come to her senses and run away from you, control freak?’
Wind down, Rio. She’s just drunk, jealous, she’s not worth it. But that green foundation smeared across her lips…which I applied on Agatha’s skin.
I’ll be damned.
Suddenly I hear a muffled sound in the distance and snap out of it, awaken from the spell—how ridiculous I must look right now. Crazy possessive girlfriend with attachment issues. I loosen my grip and turn to follow Agatha to the bar, or wherever she was heading to.
I walk around the corner and freeze.
No. That can’t be.
‘Agatha!!’ I rush to her body, lying on the doorstep of the bar.
I put my fingers to her neck—an old habit from the job—and fight the urge to scream. I roll her gently to the side and cradle her head in my arms: it’s heavy and green and everything feels surreal. I pull open her leather jacket and my hands come away slick with blood, lit by the dim, rattling lantern above us.
No. That can’t be.
‘Please wake up!’ I yell, pressing my scarf over the wounds to stem the blood. ‘Agatha! Please…’
Her pulse is weak. I need EMTs, a back up, the whole fucking team. But there’s just one person here and it’s that woman.
‘Damn, girl, what the fuck happened?’ Wanda’s voice cuts through from somewhere behind me.
‘Call 911!’
The look in my eyes must say it all because she doesn’t ask another question; just yanks the phone out of her pocket.
I’m such an idiot, really a freak. It’s all my fucking fault, but there’s no time for guilt tripping—all I need is to save her life.
‘Rio…’ I hear Agatha mumbling.
Thank god she’s awake.
‘I’m here. Please, stay with me.’
‘I think I…’
‘Shh, don’t talk. Save your strength.’
‘…peed myself.’
She smiles, and I see the blood seeping through the corner of her mouth.
‘It’s alright baby. Just stay with me. I need you to stay with me, okay?’
Then I look up and notice them—an army of biker girls in Halloween costumes, forming a ring around us, guarding the spot. The sirens are becoming louder, and I can feel a wave of tension and fear rippling through the air.
Wanda steps closer and kneels beside me.
‘My girls would never…’ she whispers.
‘I know,’ I nod with tears in my eyes.
‘THE POLICE! NOBODY MOVE!’
The paramedics rush in, lifting Agatha onto a stretcher. I follow her toward the ambulance vehicle, flashing my badge to one of them; she hesitates for only a second before waving me in and slamming the doors shut behind us.
Please, my love. Stay with me.
***
I spend the night at Northwestern Memorial Hospital, desperately hoping they’ll let me see her. But despite my arguments, the case, and my damn badge, the surgeons won’t budge. By the time Lilia arrives with the team, I’m pretty sure I’m high on my seventh coffee from the hospital vending machine.
‘Just say it. Shoot.’
Lilia says nothing, just stares at me with I told you so expression on her wrinkled face. But however unshakable she pretends to be, she’s always had a soft spot for my drama.
‘I know how it looks. I know it was my fault. You were right, and I was wrong all along.’
‘Figghia mia, sta' cu' testa,’ voice low and firm.
‘Still have no idea what that means.’
‘Don’t be so stubborn, Rio. I’m not here to give you a lecture…not yet,’ she says calmly, lowering herself into the chair beside me.
‘How’s she?’
‘Just after the surgery. Still unconscious. They won’t let me see her.’ I stare into the sterile-white void of the waiting room. ‘How’s it going?’
‘They’re questioning people. Nothing clear yet,’ she shrugs.
‘Checked the CCTV?’
‘You sure you want to talk case right now?’
‘So it’s connected to the gang.’
That’s what I thought. That’s what I was scared of.
‘We can’t say for sure.’ Lilia’s being vague. So out of her character.
‘I gotta get down there. Search every nook and cranny. There has to be something.’
‘You go nowhere, testa dura. Otherwise I’ll pull you off this case myself.’
‘¿Qué carajo?’
‘No idea what that means,’ she mocks.
‘Fuck.’ I hiss, doing my best not to blow up a scandal and hammer the last nail into my own coffin.
‘Don’t test me, Rio. Besides, if she doesn’t—’
‘She does!’
‘We should be prepared to any scenario. But I hope she’ll make it. She’s tough.’
‘You’re only saying that because she’s the first witness.’
Lilia takes a deep breath, eyes locking on mine. There’s no right or wrong here, and we both know it. If I’m lucky, they’ll let me touch this case again after…Agatha’s recovery.
‘You know I care about you, figghia mia. Don’t you?’
Everything I know about being a Special Agent is because of Lilia. I trust her with my life, and she’s always had my back, even in fucked-up ops like this one. But we’ve never said it out loud, and now…she caught me off guard. And I don’t know what to say.
‘SSA Calderu?’ Billy materializes out of nowhere, as usual.
Lilia stands, stepping toward him in the hallway, but throws me one last knowing glance.
‘Billy will stay with you. And there’s security near the ICU, of course,’ she says. ‘Keep her safe, Rio.’
I nod, silent. And she walks away.
‘Want some coffee, Agent Vidal?’ Billy asks, awkward, as if testing the waters.
‘If I have another, I’ll start throwing things at people,’ I mutter. ‘Started with you.’
***
It’s been hours since they took her away from me—hours that felt like ages. I’m sitting outside the Intensive Care Unit, waiting for the surgeon to let me in. They’re doing their job, but I’m relentless. I have no intention of leaving Agatha here alone. Security or no security, army of soldiers or furious lesbians—I trust no bitch. And no, this isn’t about guilt. I’m connected to her on some deeper level I can’t explain, it’s something that keeps me from being selfish.
‘Rio Vidal?’
At last.
‘Can I see her?’
‘Yes, but only for thirty minutes. She’s still weak and needs to sleep for at least twelve hours,’ says an Asian woman in a deep, low voice. Must be chief surgeon.
‘I understand.’
‘You can come back this evening. And if I may,’ she glances at me, ‘you need some rest, too.’
She hands me a sterile disposable gown and opens the door.
I walk in, my legs wobbling like I’m stepping on cotton wool. So many monitors, tubes, Agatha looks so…fragile. I barely dare to breathe.
‘You can talk to her, but be gentle. Speak softly. Your wife lost a lot of blood.’
‘My—’ I almost correct her, but I just stand there, staring at Agatha with bated breath.
‘Thank you,’ I whisper, and the doctor walks away.
The nurse is tucked away in a shadowed corner; I barely notice them. It feels like we’re alone.
‘I’m sorry, Aggie.’
Beep. Beep.
‘You saved my life, and I failed you.’
Beep. Beep. Beep.
‘Please, come back to me. I’ll keep you safe, I’ll catch those bastards, every last one of them. We’ll go to San Diego, and you’ll show me your cabin, the one you’ve been bragging so much about.’
Beep.
‘Sorry for being so jealous. If not for that, you wouldn’t be there. But I’m sure you’re gonna pull through this. You’re tough. You survived some big-deal Tarantino stunts.’
Beep.
‘I love you.’
I think I’m saying it out loud for the first time. So stupid. In moments like you realize how pointless it is to hold it for so song, deep inside, instead of saying it to your person every day. And she’s my person—I always felt it in my bones.
Beep. Wait. Was that…Did she just squeeze my hand?
‘Agatha?’
She moans softly, barely audible. But it’s something. There’s hope, and I’m gonna hold on to it.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
*** When I step out of the hospital, the sun is just dragging itself over the horizon, a harbinger of another rough, disappointing day. I’m not a morning person—never have been—but years on the job taught me how to make mornings bearable: a run in Millennium Park and a cup of black V60 from Intelligentsia. Not today. Today I’ll skip all of it, shut the blinds, and do what the doctor ordered. Otherwise, I’ll lose my mind.
Where the hell is Daddy Five-O…? I push the button on the car keys frantically, as I have a nervous tic. And then it hits me. Of course, I left my car by the Furies bar. Idiot.
Whatever. Half an hour on foot will do no harm.
‘Sorry, I can’t leave you alone. Lilia will kill me,’ Billy calls, his skinny little body jogging toward me from the hospital doors.
‘That’s true. And mutilate you, and get away with it.’ I say, entirely serious. ‘I’m heading home anyway. If you have to chaperone me, let’s walk and grab something that is not coffee.’
‘Maybe… ice-cream?’ Billy offers.
‘Actually, not a bad idea.’
‘Mom always said, an ice-cream a day keeps bad luck away.’ He chuckles with that childish blush creeping over his face.
‘Weird. I like it.’
If only this really was bad luck and not a chain of unfortunate events that were entirely under my responsibility.
*** Sweet Suffering Jesus.
If you’ve even been railed by a cargo train or stepped on by an elephant, you’d get what I feel right now. Not being literal, but living my dear life…Man, I’ve got quite a good imagination and some damn ugly experience. I can hardly move, let alone think or figure out where the fuck am I.
When I open my eyes and my sight adjusts to the bright artificial light, I recognize the vibe. A ring of doctors hovering like they’re in some Masonic cult, and I’m their virgin sacrifice.
‘What…no,’ I croak, not awkward at all.
‘Agatha? Can you hear me? You can just nod.’
I blink a few times to clear my eyes and spot the doctor, the one who’s talkin’. Cute. I nod with a weak smirk on my face.
‘You are in the ICU room. I’m Dr. Yang. The surgery went well, but you need to rest. If your vitals are stable, in a few hours you’ll be transferred to the regular room.’
‘Thanks, doc,’ I grin. What can I say? Can’t help picturing her stitchin’ me up all night. Is it even night? Hell if I know. Where’s Rio?
‘One more thing,’ she clears her throat. ‘You wife spent the night here and visited you while you were unconscious.’
What was supposed to be a laugh comes out like choking, but I can’t help it. The other doctors, probably interns, rush toward me like they’ve been burnt, checking me over.
‘Check systolic blood pressure,’ Dr. Yang snaps.
‘I’m alright folks. Just happy to see you.’
I smile like a dumb idiot. My wife, huh.
Well… she’d better be back soon. ***
The regular room feels almost too damn quiet after the ICU: no constant alarms, no parade of nurses, just the air conditioner humming and questionable hospital food resting beside my bed.
Then the door opens and I see a dark silhouette in the hall.
‘Rio?’ My voice is hoarse.
‘It’s Lilia.’
Oh. Great.
‘How are you feeling?’
‘Like shit. But the room service is nice.’
‘This is a good hospital,’ she grins, taking pride in her whatever it is.
‘Bet that means a fat check,’ I chuckle.
‘The Bureau will take care of that.’
‘I’ll have extra cheese on my pizza then.’
‘Agatha,’ she continues, her voice steady and calm. Professional.
‘I need to ask you about the other night.’
‘Be my guest.’
‘Do you remember anything about the person who stabbed you?’
‘Not sure. Memory’s fuzzy.’
‘Complexion, clothes, smell…anything will help. Try again?’
‘Okay, for the sake of the Bureau.’ I close my eyes and rewind myself into the void.
‘I think it was…a man? Dark figure, black hood…’
She raises her eyebrows. ‘Black hood?’
‘Yeah, I guess. Ain’t it Halloween?’ I cough—loud enough for the nurse to appear in seconds.
‘I’ll see myself out,’ Lilia says. ‘Thanks for your cooperation.’
‘Hey, how’s Rio?’ I rasp, but she’s already gone.
Damn, Rio. Still high on sedatives, but I’d kill to see that face again. That beautiful face of hers.
*** ‘Just letting you know your girlfriend is safe and sound,’ Lilia hums into my phone, waking me up. Thank god.
‘I’ll swing by the crime scene and then head back to the hospital.’
‘We’ve discussed this, Rio. You need to lay low for a while.’
‘I need to pick up my car anyway. It won’t take long, and I’ll be invisible, I swear.’
Jesus, I sound like a whining teenager.
‘The heads have been asking ugly questions, but I covered for you. Don’t make me regret it, Rio.’
‘Thanks, Lilia. I owe you a lap dance.’
‘Pardon?’
‘Kidding.’ I hung up, suddenly feeling invigorated and hopeful.
***
I get off the taxi in front of the Furies garage and bump into Wanda. These seventeen hours have been so rough I don’t even feel resentful anymore, like someone sucked the poisonous jealousy right out of my system.
Maybe just a little grudge left though.
‘Hey, how’s Agatha? We’ve been worried, but didn’t know who to call.’ She steps up in that red leather jacket that catches the eye.
‘She’s better now, finally conscious. I’ll go back to her as soon as I find my car.’
‘That black gangster toy? Fits you.’ She chuckles, pointing to the other side of the road.
‘You’re lucky they haven’t towed it—streets have been blocked since Halloween night.’
‘I see.’
From the first glance Daddy looks good, unbreakable and nonchalant, unlike me, unhinged and hopelessly imbalanced.
‘I can look at your tires if you want,’ she follows me leisurely. ‘Might also wanna change your locks, since you left it here overnight.’
I shoot her a wary look.
‘Why bother so much?’
‘I think I owe you for that kiss,’ she smirks, crouching to give Daddy a closer look.
‘I bet you do,’ I snap, my nerves a little on edge. She’s the one who’s pushing it too far, not me.
Wanda circles the car analysing every inch; she clearly prides herself on being the expert.
‘I guess this is for you,’ she bends toward the windshield and hands me a small piece of paper.
My heart races a mile a second before I even unfold it.
“Happy Halloween, bitch. xoxo”
Whoever you are, you’re a dead man. I’ll drag you out of whatever hole you’re hiding in and bury you alive. Every damn one of you.
‘You alright?’ Wanda’s voice snaps me out from the nightmare.
‘Yeah…just some stupid Halloween card.’
‘I see.’ She studies me from head to toe, saying nothing, but I can feel her measuring me.
I glance at my phone and realize I have no idea when visiting hours end. I’d better hurry.
‘I gotta get going.’
‘Say hello to Aggs for me,’ she says with a nasty smirk. That nickname rolls off her tongue as if it belongs to her. But I don’t have time for this shit.
I slide into the car and fire up the engine, pretending I don’t give a flying fuck.
‘Okay.’
‘And drop by anytime if you need your locks changed,’ she adds, casual on the surface. But there’s tension in the air—we both feel it.
‘Wanda.’ I turn my head toward her.
‘Mm?’
‘Don’t you dare think I forgot about the other night.’
*** On my way to the hospital, I try to piece the puzzle together. Was I followed on Halloween night? How did I make it so easy for a killer to get close? Am I dealing with a smart one this time? How many of them are working together?
It’s personal now, and I can’t risk Agatha’s life more than I already have.
If I keep working on this case, she needs to go to San Diego—no questions asked.
*** ‘You can see her now, she’s stable,’ I hear the nurse murmur to someone behind the door.
And there she is. ‘Long time no see, hermosa,’ I give her the best smile I can manage.
‘Aggie…’
Her face so pale and her eyes look heavy like ripe cherries distressed. Poor baby.
‘Come over here, I’ve missed you a great deal.’
‘Be a doll and give us a moment, huh?’ I wink at the nurse before he finally gets lost.
‘I’m so sorry, baby,’ Rio whispers, holdin’ my hand, then kissin’ the inside of my palm.
‘Don’t be so dramatic, I’ve been through worse,’ I lie. Truth is, just looking at her works miracles—makes me heal faster than those meds ever could.
‘So will you just stare or give me a proper kiss now…wifey?’ I tease, just to see that blush on her lovely face.
‘I didn’t say a word, they just…assumed.’
‘But you didn’t set them straight, did you?’ I push, just a little.
‘No.’
She looks at me, bewildered and blushing all at once. And to be frank, I have no idea where this conversation is heading to. I’d keep a poker face, but the damn monitors give me away—beeping faster, tattling that I’m nervous as hell.
Agatha Harkness, mother of two. Jen’s voice echoing in my head, over and over. Don’t be stupid and say it. Or don’t be stupid and wait for a “proper” moment? What’s the proper moment, anyway?
Thinking about our crazy jobs, this stabbing situation…Besides, a couple months together is basically a couple of lesbian years. And a decade in biker time. Jeez, Agatha, just fuckin’ say it—
‘Wanna make it official, Detective?’
She freezes, staring at me with wide eyes, squeezing my hand so tight I can feel the sweat pooling in her palm.
‘What are you saying?’
‘Don’t keep Mommy waitin’. Will you marry me, Agent-Sweaty-Hands-Vidal?’
‘You’re crazy,’ she grins, bending down, shaking her head.
‘Gimme words, hon.’
‘Of course I will,’ she purrs, right before my lips—and then finally gives me a kiss. So tender I feel like I’m in some Disney fairytale, lying on my deathbed waiting for a sexy Puerto Rican knightess to wake me up.
I kiss her back harder, even though it costs me a poignant pain in my back. Don’t matter. It’s all swallowed up by her tongue sliding against mine, playing with it, and her scent that stirs my soul, wrapping around me and making me moan. I never wanted anyone more than Rio.
‘I love you so much,’ she pants, stroking my cheek.
‘I love you too, silly. Ain’t it obvi?’
‘You sound like a teen.’
‘Look at yourself, babe.’
‘How do I look?’ She turns, placing a hand on her hip.
‘Like shit, to be honest. But love those click-clackin’ heels and that pretty ass in that skirt. Delicious. You wearin’ anythin’ under?’
‘Being stabbed and still horny, aren’t you?’
‘That’s not an answer.’
‘Don’t mean to disappoint you, but you won’t be pleased anytime soon. Doctor’s orders.’
‘Oh, that doctor?’ I mock, stealing her filthy little habit, tongue-in-cheek.
‘You’re unsalvageable.’
‘Honey, I can make you wet with my arms restin’ under this blanket, just talkin’ to you, peach. Bet you’re already drippin’ like a slut.’
And I know she is. That sexy flush on her face, her chest rising fast, those darkened devilish eyes, piercing me through. She looks nothing like shit, she looks hot as hell—I just love teasing her.
In that instant, she spins around, bends over the chair and lifts her ass, stretching like a horny cat. That infinite slit in her skirt makes me wet in a second, and my pulse damn near rips through the IV.
I can’t help myself—I give her a light slap on the butt, then slide my hand under the slit, into her tights, caressing her leg as I move higher, until I grasp what I know’s already soaked; the thin silk of her lingerie clinging to her.
‘Good girl,’ I growl, giving her pussy one little squeeze.
The door creaks. Dr. Yang enters. Rio’s reflexes are lightning: she drops into the chair, crosses her legs, puts on her deadpan FBI face. But she won’t meet my eye and that blush on her cheeks betrays her. Same as mine.
‘We need to check up on your wife, Mrs. Vidal. Do you mind?’
‘I was already leaving. Treat her well, Dr. Yang.’
I give Rio a wink, tasting her on my middle finger. ‘See you soon, wifey.’
‘See you soon, fiancée,’ she shoots back.
Yeah. That sounds just right. *** Driving home feels like a dream, my head full of Agatha.
She’s insane. And fuck me—she just proposed. And I said yes. What the hell does that even mean? Are we talking a proper wedding or just eloping? How do normal people do this? We’re anything but normal.
“Ain’t normal,” she’d say.
I can’t tell if I’m excited or terrified. It feels different now—heavier. I’ve been protecting us all this time, but calling it out loud makes it real. Serious. Vulnerable. Complicated. How do I tell her she needs to leave? I don’t want to send her away, I hate it. But I’d rather do long distance than put her back in the killer’s sights. And I know exactly how heroic she can be.
I park Daddy Five-O in the garage and head toward the elevator, when I hear a rustle behind me. I briefly drag Beretta from my jacket and hide behind the column. Soft steps scatter in the distance.
My pulse pounds, but it’s not fear. It’s pure anger that I feel.
‘Whoever you are, come out and show your face,’ I command, glancing at the reflection in a rear window of the car beside me.
Silence. Then another shuffle.
I point a gun in front of me and crawl forward, hiding behind the cars. Dim garage lightning, shadows ripple across the concrete. Both of us hold still until the lights flicker out. Fucker.
Breathe in Rio, breathe out. I can do it even with my eyes closed. Muscle memory.
Crouching low, I sprint to the next column. Footsteps retreat deeper into the garage.
If they knew I was FBI, they wouldn’t come empty-handed. So what the hell are they waiting for? The generator hums, lights buzz back on—and that’s when I spot a hooded silhouette slipping toward the exit.
‘Don’t move! FBI! Stay where you are!’
The figure bolts. Skinny, light-footed. Not built for running. Looks like a teen.
‘I warned you,’ I shout, chasing hard. ‘You’re resisting a federal agent!’
A few nifty moves, and I’m on them, pointing Beretta between their shoulder blades and push them against concrete.
I yank off the hood and realize it’s actually a teen—and I know him.
‘Billy? Christ sake! What the hell are you doing here?’
‘S-sorry, Agent Vidal! It wasn’t my idea!’ He tries to explain himself sheepishly. Dear god.
‘Keep talking,’ I growl in my don’t-fuck-with-me voice that always works on him.
‘I was supposed to watch you. Lilia’s orders. And, uh…check your car, in terms of—’
‘In terms of what, Billy?’
‘She was a little on edge after you drove to the crime scene,’ he stammers. ‘Wanted me to make sure nothing…leaked. I didn’t mean to go behind your back, I just—’
‘Okay, with Calderu you had no choice, but this?’ My jaw clenches. ‘GRHHH.’ I let out a loud growl. ‘She won’t leave me alone, will she?’
‘I think she just worries,’ he mutters. ‘So…you didn’t take anything? By any chance?’ He shrugs inside his hoodie, as if trying to dissolve into it.
‘No, I did not,’ I lie. ‘But now I do need to talk to Lilia.’
And the sooner the better. Otherwise she’ll think I’m withholding the damn evidence.
Sorry, Daddy Five-O. We have another ride tonight.
*** ‘So, I was right. You did take something from the crime scene after all,’ Lilia smirks.
‘What does that even mean? The note was literally in my car!’ Steam blows out of me.
‘It’s good you came anyway,’ she says smoothly. ‘Since you insist on staying on this case, you’ll need some help. From an old friend.’
Suspicion sharpens my gaze. Then the door opens behind me.
‘Konstantin! Perfect timing.’ Lilia smiles and leans back in her ridiculous leather chair.
‘Agent Vidal,’ he booms with his signature hearty laughter and shakes my hand. ‘You haven’t changed a bit.’
‘Can’t say the same about you,’ I mock. But deep inside, I feel a little relief—could’ve been worse.
Back in the days, when I was a Junior Agent, we used to work on the field together. He had always been like a father to me. Only less annoying and more reliable. Like my Daddy Five-O. Plus, he gets my jokes, which is rare and melts my black heart.
I squint my eyes at Lilia. ‘Let me guess. This senior citizen is my new partner in crime?’
‘Correct,’ she nods. ‘And now, a quick re-briefing.’
‘What about the note?’ I cut in.
‘We’re working on that.’
‘You said that before. I need info. CCTV? Anything on Agatha’s attacker?’
‘She recalls a man in a black hood. Nothing solid. If there was something significant, you’d know.’
‘And the cameras?’
She takes a pause to clear her throat.
‘There wasn’t any footage on CCTV.’
‘WHAT?’
‘Exactly what I thought. And with the second note…’
‘An inside man,’ Konstantin and Lilia say at the same time.
‘Fuck!’ I growl.
It all makes perfect sense now. I’ve been tailed since we hit Chicago. I knew something was off, but I’ve been too distracted to string it together.
‘Konstantin will cover you if needed,’ Lilia says. ‘You act normal and don’t get suspicious.’
‘How do I know he’s not the inside man?’ I point at Konstantin, who immediately bursts into laughter.
Lilia frowns, then presses on.
‘Konstantin, you’ll check local bars, gang spots, question people,’ she continues. ‘Rio—’
‘I need to talk to him,’ I interrupt.
‘Not yet—’
‘He’ll want to know if I got the message,’ I insist.
‘They’re just notes—’
‘Agatha.’ My voice drops. ‘This was my message. She was their target because of me.
Silence. Lilia hesitates, rolling her Parker pen between her fingers, heavy and metallic like a bullet.
‘You’ve got a point,’ she finally shoots. ‘You can have him.’
***
The interrogation room feels cold, like a dungeon, the buzzing, flickering lamp on the ceiling just enough for torture. Sometimes I think we haven’t gone that far from medieval times—just traded chains for badges and cute uniforms.
‘Are you nervous?’ Konstantin drags his chair next to mine with a loud scrape. ‘It’s okay if you are.’
‘I’m fine.’ I roll my eyes.
‘So it is serious,’ he murmurs near my ear. ‘You and…Agatha, right?’
The door slams open before I can answer. A towering, muscled guard escorts Easy Rider in, chains him to the table.
‘Good to see you, Agent Vidal.’ His grimace twists into a crooked smirk. ‘You’re a sight for sore eyes.’
‘We’re not here to chit-hat.’
‘Of course.’
There’s something in his face that makes my skin crawl—disgust and fear tangled together. That’s rare, almost never happened to me in all my years with the Bureau. Maybe it’s the background, the context. The hate-crime freaks, the homophobic, racist trash—I’ve seen them all. That inexplicable hatred, pure evil, it’s always out there. I used to think it came from childhood, something that broke them. But sometimes it’s just who they are. Most are broken boys who grew into bitter men, lashing out at everything they can’t understand. But this type? They relish it. They pride themselves on preying on the ones who can’t fight back. The real creeps. Like Easy Rider.
‘Who assaulted Agatha? Give me names.’
‘Hah. Just like that?’ His eyebrow arches.
‘You’re not gonna see the world outside a cell again. So you’d better cooperate.’
‘You’re not making sense, princess.’
‘Shut. The fuck. Up.’ I’m on my feet, fiercely spitting in his face.
‘Rio!’ Konstantin tries to reel me in.
‘I’ll tell you what makes sense.’ My voice cuts sharp. ‘Either you talk, or I’ll bury you in SHU so deep you’ll forget what daylight looks like.’
‘You’re not that cruel. Agent. Vidal.’ He enunciates each word with the same smirk on his face.
‘What do you want?’ Konstantin jumps in before I snap. Maybe in time—one more word and I’d be out the door, losing the fucking job.
‘Hm. The Bible would be nice.’ He hums, his eyes never leaving mine.
‘Now you’re not making sense,’ I retort.
‘The Bible. I want you to read it. Romans 1:18–32. For me.’
Blood rushes hot in my ears, as I know exactly what he’s getting at.
‘Fuck you.’ I grunt. ‘Deal. Now names. All of them.’
*** The next few days are absolutely hectic. We’ve got the names—I didn’t sell my soul for nothing. While Konstantin is off visiting bars undercover, I’m at the hospital visiting Agatha. And thank god (or whoever I’m supposed to thank these days), she’s getting better. Which means she’s gonna be home soon; so weird to say that, knowing my home is officially her home-to-be. Which means we’re gonna have a “San Diego talk.” The talk. And she’s gonna be mad at me, probably reconsider everything, and—
‘Hey, you with us?’ Konstantin waves a hand in front of my face while I’m staring into nothing.
‘Yeah, just lost in though. You startled me.’
‘You used to be more fun, Rio,’ he chuckles.
‘You used to have more hair on your head,’ I shoot back.
‘Why is it the second someone gets a couple grey hairs, people start cracking age jokes? That’s cringe,’ he mutters.
‘No,’ I say flatly, ‘cringe, it’s the way you say it.’
He cracks up into laughter. He always does it, even if I’m not trying and being a mess.
‘So, you gonna tell me about your fiancée or not?’ He arches one of his puffy eyebrows at me.
‘It’s a long story,’ I say, a cigarette hanging from my lips as I pat down my jacket for the lighter.
‘Here,’ he flicks his Zippo and lights it. ‘We’ve got all the time in the world on this stakeout.’
‘We met in Toledo, back in August. I was undercover, hunting for bait, but found her instead. Then one thing led to another—she figured I was an agent, and…I tried to keep her at bay for her own good, but then I chased Easy Rider and,’ I pause to drag on the cigarette.
‘She was there. Saved my life. If she hadn’t shown up with her biker girls that night, I wouldn’t be sitting here chatting with you.’
‘Not such a long story after all,’ he smirks. ‘You hiding something?’
‘Fuck you,’ I tease, exhaling smoke. ‘I’ve just…never felt anything like this before. You know me, I’m a lone wolf when it comes to feelings.’
‘Not my business, but isn’t it a little…early to tie the knot?’ He asks softly.
‘I know, right? Scares the shit out of me.’ One more puff, I'm trying to exhale out of the car window.
‘But you still said yes?’
‘I did.’
‘Like you said, I know you. And this is…’ he points at me with a mock-serious finger. ‘Not you at all, Rio.’
‘Ever met someone you truly connected with? Like on some deep level you understand each other. Without words.’ I say, looking at him seriously.
‘Funny you should ask,’ he smiles wistfully. ‘I did.’
‘And?’
‘I’m an old fool. I let them go.’
‘Told you, you’re getting old!’
‘It’s not the same when I’m the one saying that!’
We both laugh for a while. That’s when I realize how much I’ve missed it. Apart from Agatha, Konstantin’s the one who gets me. The rare kind who wouldn’t judge.
I just hope Agatha won’t either.
***
‘It’s good to be home,’ I sigh with relief, limping on one leg as I step into Rio’s apartment. It sucks, being this limited in movement—not how I ever pictured my life. Doing my best not to think about Highway Honey…damn, I miss her warm saddle so fucking much.
‘Be careful, baby. The wounds are still fresh,’ she says, guiding me straight to the bedroom. I sit down, looking around. Yeah, it’s good to be here, with Rio. She is my home.
‘You look hot down there,’ I tease while she’s helping me with the shoes.
‘For heaven’s sake, Aggie.’ God, I fall in love with that blush on her face, every time I see it.
She looks so desperate, almost nervous, fussing with pillows around me like she’s building a little cloud castle. Normally I’d bite someone’s head off for babying me, but with Rio it feels different. She’s protective, caring. It’s like she loves me, but just the right amount—the amount I can digest.
‘Fuck,’ I hiss, shifting up on the bed.
‘Hurts?’ Her voices trembles.
‘A bit, but I’ll live,’ I give her reassuring wink, even though it burns like hell. ‘Fetch me some painkillers, honey.’
‘Fetch?’ She arches a brow, smirking. ‘Of course, m’lady.’ She mocks, serving them with a glass of water.
‘Lifesaver.’ I down them like a shot.
‘You said the same to Dr. Yang?’
‘You’re not being serious, my love?’
I know that little ‘L’ word rattles her. She’s still careful with it.
‘Just kidding,’ she giggles, a little bit jumpy. ‘Do you want anything? Just name it, and I’ll make it happen.’
‘There’s actually somethin’…’ I pause, letting the smirk curl slow across my lips. She already knows—I don’t have to spell it out. That’s the thing about us: one look and I’m wide open for her. Laura Palmer’s fuckin’ diary.
‘Baby, you know you can’t. Your pelvic muscles—’
‘Now you sound like Dr. Yang.’
Her eyes flash, and here goes the devil. ‘You asked her to touch you, slut?’
I grin. Still love it when she bites back. My vigorous girl.
‘Oh yeah,’ I say, getting into the groove. ‘I said, ‘Doc, you’ve already seen me naked, stitchin’ me up. Be a good girl and get down on me.’’
‘And she?’ Rio slides onto the other side of the bed, slowly unbuttoning her shirt, unfolding herself beneath me.
‘She came close…slid her hand under my blanket…’
‘Keep talking.’
‘She was gonna touch me, but asked, ‘What about your beautiful wife?’’
‘And what about her?’ Rio’s bra drops to the floor.
‘I said, ‘She’s my fiancée, and we won’t tell her.’’
‘Tell me every filthy detail.’ Her eyes are heavy, Rio knows how to wear this predatory look, the one that works me up so damn fast. Especially when she pairs it with those black lace panties.
‘Then she’s finger-fuckin’ me, deep inside…her hands so skillful. She’s so good at it.’
‘Go on.’
‘I begged, ‘Please, doc, make me cum,’ and I’m cumin’…loud. The whole hospital hears me.’
‘You’ve been a very bad girl,’ she speaks in a deep dangerous voice. ‘A very-very, bad-bad girl, Agatha.’
She peels her panties off and throws them in my face.
‘Fuck, I missed the smell of your cunt,’ I moan, nibbling at the lace.
She’s absolutely naked now, lying there, teasing me, punishing me for my imaginary whoring.
‘You won’t be having this for a while,’ she says, biting her lip, groping her tits. Heat burns between my thighs, but I’m half-helpless here. One sharp move, and I’ll be squirming, and not in a good way.
‘I wanna watch you, baby,’ I gasp, filthy, starving.
‘You greedy little shit,’ she teases, stroking her skin.
‘C’mon, beauty, spread your legs, Show me your pussy. I wanna see it throbbin’ for me. Just like that, yeah.’
Rio moans, squeezing her breasts and gazes at me like a maniac.
‘And who’s the slut now?’ I sneer.
She crawls on all fours, stares at me, and slowly, gracefully leans down to kiss me. She does it so gingerly, I feel no pain—only lust and longing, poisoning my cursed, wounded body. I close my eyes and melt into that kiss.
‘You know, the most painful thing? Not the wounds. It’s that you’re right here, and I can’t fuck you.’
‘No, you can’t. But you can watch. Tell me what to do,’ she whispers, stroking my hair back.
She licks my hand like a devoted dog, curls her lips around my fingers, and sucks them.
‘Tell me what to do, Agatha,’ she purrs between sucking.
That twist makes me wild.
I can't help but dip my fingers into her mouth until she starts gagging. But I pay for that with a sharp sting in my back and gasp, pulling out.
‘Easy, tiger,’ she murmurs, kissing my palm.
But I ignore the pain and trace her face with my fingertips, eating her alive just with my languid eyes.
‘Turn around, I wanna see that perfect ass,’ I command.
She does what I say, arches her back, and shakes her buttocks, wriggling for me.
‘Your pussy belongs to me. Say it.’
‘It…belongs to you…’ she whimpers.
‘Touch your clit.’
And she obeys.
‘Good girl, Rio. Now face me.’
‘What do you want me to do, Mommy?’
‘Mmm…Fuck, Rio. Fuck yourself for me.’
She licks her fingers and plunges them inside her folds, deep into her pink, wet pussy. I give her a satisfied smirk as a reward.
‘Don’t stop.’
She gives herself a few thrusts and I hear the slick, obscene popping of her cunt—filthy music to my ears.
‘Stroke your pussy. Don’t cum ’til I say.’
‘Yes, Mommy.’
She whines and pleases me with the nickname, my sweet baby girl.
‘Who’s my jealous little bitch?’
‘Me,’ she moans, pounding herself.
‘Slap your pussy. Harder. That’s what you deserve.’
She slaps, mixing it with rubbing her clit.
‘Fuck—I’m close…’
‘Too fuckin’ soon. I’m not done with you yet.’
She arches back, fingers working herself open, groaning in exhaustion. Her face twists in defiance—there’s my brat, still fighting me, taking what she wants.
‘Shit. That’s mine. All of that. Now hands off. Don’t move. Don’t you fucking move, I said.’
*** ‘Don’t you dare finish without letting me see your face,’ she growls, tormenting me with her burning, topaz eyes.
Even now: lying on this bed, wrapped in bandages, barely able to move—she kills me. And unlike before, I’m willing to serve myself up to her on a silver tray, even if it leaves me overly exposed and a little bit shy.
I lean back on my elbows, instinctively trying to press my knees together, but she won’t allow that, I already know.
‘Spare me the pretty act and spread your legs for me. Wider. I wanna see your cunt drippin’.’
I turn on brat mode. ‘Must be so annoying you can’t eat me out, huh?’
‘You think I don’t remember how you taste?’ She grunts. Must be pissed. Good.
‘Let’s see,’ I drag my fingers across my pussy, then crawl closer, smearing my wetness onto her lips. She closes her eyes and moans—not just sucking, but devouring me with her plush lips and that prominent jaw.
But I interrupt her. She looks so beautiful, damn. Admiring the view, I move closer, stroke her cheeks and kiss every inch of her face. The face that I love.
‘Look at you, my dirty little brat,’ she husks, brushing her nose against mine, so tenderly that my heart aches. ‘I love you, Aggie. So fucking much.’
‘I know, honey. I love you, too.’ She looks at me with those charming wrinkles around her eyes. I’d die to kiss them forever.
‘Will you clean me up, love? I’ve got a whole pool down there.’ She giggles, wicked-soft. ‘But no funny business—you know, one orgasm could kill me.’
I know, that’s risky, but damn, she stirred me up so much, and my mouth waters just looking at her.
‘Don’t worry, Aggie. I’ll be gentle.’
I bury myself between her thighs, kissing them lightly. Cautiously, I slide closer and lick her broad and slow, tasting her honey on my tongue.
‘Baby,’ she smiles, holding her breath. ‘What are you doing…’
‘Healing you,’ I murmur, giving her pussy a soft palpable brush. So fucking delicious.
‘You warned me yourself, why the change of heart?’
I say nothing, gently eating her out with the slowest pace in the world, making sure I’m not hurting her.
‘You’re gonna kill me if you kiss it like that…’ she moans. Every time her hips twitch, I pin them gently with my palms, coaxing her back down.
‘I won’t. Let me worship you, baby.’ I breathe against her, voice breaking with how much I want her. I do the final stroke with all my face, smearing her wetness all over my skin.
Then I sink down-down, kissing her inner thighs, brushing her calves and ankles. When I take her foot in my hands, she lets out a tiny gasp.
‘Can I touch you there?’
She nods, biting her little finger. Even from down there, I see that smirk on her face dissolve into a blush. She’s just…adorable. It’s not about winning anymore. It’s about giving.
I press my thumb into the middle of her foot and slowly massage her toes, without pushing her over.
‘How does it feel?’ I wonder.
‘Feels good. You’re so…good for me, Rio.’
I kiss each finger and slightly bite the big toe, sucking on it just a tiny bit.
‘Close your eyes, Aggie.’ I whisper, massaging her foot. 'You get some sleep, and I’ll take care of you.
***
YOOOOOOOOOOOO i have DIED AND RESURRECTED. MULTIPLE TIMES.
cr: @kathrynhahnonline
This is pure smut guys 🥵
You’re gonna kill me if you kiss it like that
No I don’t mind a little disrespect
Talking is boring, lemme pull your hair back
God, c’mon and kiss it kiss it
(c)
Commission on twitter
kathryn hahn/agatha harkness headers
WHAT A BEAUTIFUL SURPRISE 😭😭😭 I LOVE HER SO MUCH, MY GOD!!
she wants to fuck her real bad
My brain read this in Jennifer Coolidge’s voice 😂
I cannot stop laughing at this. GENIUS.
Just posted a parks&rec X agathario fic :'))) it's cute! I promise.


