I started this blog just the reblog stuff I liked, but now I took the courage to post what I write as well. English is not my first language, so sorry for typos. If anyone wanna beta for me, just let me know!
I write for:
Wanda Maximoff x Reader
Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff
Wandanat x Reader
Rio Vidal x Reader
Agatha Harkness x Reader
Alice Wu Gulliver x Reader
My works
new home | wanda x fem!reader
After destroying the Darkhold, Wanda used a teleportation spell to save herself from the ruins of the temple, but everything hapenned so fast she didn’t think of an especific place to go, only of surviving (no warnings for now)
Summary: You get caught in the pouring rain, soaked to the skin, when Rio Vidal comes to the rescue. In exchange for her help, she asks for a favour with a mischievous glint in her eyes
-OR-
Rio walks you home in the rain and later cashes in the favour to take you home and fuck you silly (Modern AU)
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, more smut, a little bit of fluff at the end, Top Rio, Dom Rio, bratty(ish) reader, even more smut, R receiving: fingering, strap, bondage, blindfolding, light choking
Words: 4.0k
A/N: I planned out the rest of my Agathario backstory and it’s broken my heart so I've countered it by writing this. It is a healthy way to cope and you cannot tell me otherwise.
AO3 link my loves <3 | Master List
It’s pouring rain by the time you leave work, the sky dark and brooding as you step outside. You don’t even make it half a block before the downpour hits, drenching you in seconds. You duck under the awning of a nearby café. Already soaked through, hair dripping, you curse yourself for not checking the weather before you left the office. The wide-legged jeans cling uncomfortable to your legs, heavy with water, and the cropped olive cardigan you thought would be perfect for the chill now feels like a poor choice, offering little protection against the rain. Your white tee, once neatly tucked, is now plastered to your skin and slightly see-through. Cursing the cheap fabric, you glance around at the empty street, your teeth starting to chatter as the cold settles in.
As you stand there shivering, you notice someone approaching through the sheets of rain—a figure in all black, moving with a confident stride. It’s only when she steps closer that you realise it’s Rio Vidal, her umbrella held high above her head. You’ve seen her at the gym more times than you can count, occasionally sharing a class. You’ve exchanged a few nods and maybe a smile or two, but that’s as far as it’s ever gone. You don’t expect her to stop now, not in this weather. But then she sees you, and for a moment, you think she’s just going to walk on by.
But she pauses when she spots you, her expression unreadable as her eyes flick over your drenched figure. You can tell she’s about to keep going—there’s a split second where she looks away, like she’s debating whether she cares enough to stop. Then she rolls her eyes, heaves a dramatic sigh, and steps under the awning with you.
“Really?” she drawls, tilting her head as she looks you up and down, eyes lingering at the sight of your bra showing through the now definitely see-through top. “No umbrella?”
You shrug, giving her a sheepish grin. “Sorry. Guess I didn’t realise I had to expect a monsoon today.”
Her lips twitch into a smirk, and she shakes her head. “Clearly.” Without another word, she shifts under her umbrella, angling it so it covers both of you. “Come on, I’ll walk you.”
You fall in step beside her, matching her pace as you make your way down the rain-soaked street. It was awkward at first, the two of you trying to find a rhythm without bumping into each other. You make a bit of small talk, mostly about the weather, but then Rio starts teasing you, throwing out little jabs at your lack of preparedness, and you find yourself laughing despite the rain soaking through your clothes.
“Do you always go out unarmed in a storm?” she asks, quirking an eyebrow.
"I like to live dangerously,” you grin.
“Oh, is that what this is?” she retorts dryly. “Because it looks like poor planning to me.”
You snort, bumping into her playfully. “Careful, you might actually sound concerned.”
Her smirk softens into something warmer, and for a moment, she just looks at you, as if she’s seeing you for the first time. It’s disarming, the way her eyes linger, and you suddenly realise how close you’re standing.
As you walk, the rain intensifies, pounding against the umbrella. Rio adjusts it, stepping even closer until her arm presses against yours. You glance at her. She had chosen to shelter you with the umbrella more even though it meant she was getting caught in the downpour; the scent of her perfume mixing with the rain is intoxicating, and you can’t help but shiver.
“You’re getting wet,” you murmur mostly to yourself, voice softer than you intended.
She looks down at you, her smile widening into something almost predatory. “You have no idea, darling,” she says, her voice dropping low. The look in her eyes is heated—a flicker of something you’ve never seen before—and it makes you shiver for a completely different reason.
You hold her gaze, the world fading away around you. The rain, the city noise—it all melts into the background, leaving just the two of you standing there, inches apart. It would be oh so easy to lean in, to close the gap between you. But then she clears her throat, stepping back just slightly, and the moment breaks.
“We should keep moving,” she says, almost too casually, like she’s trying to convince herself as much as you.
You nod, swallowing hard. “Right. Yeah.”
Soon enough, the conversation picks up again and you’re back to casual teasing.
“You know, they do sell these things called coats,” she says, glancing sideways at you with a teasing smile.
“Oh yeah?” You play along, nudging her lightly with your elbow. “I’ll have to look into that.”
She laughs—a low, husky sound that makes your pulse skip. “You probably should. You look like a drowned rat.”
“Rude,” you shot back, but you’re smiling, warmth spreading through your chest despite the cold rain.
By the time you reach your street, the rain has slowed to a drizzle. She stops, tilting the umbrella back as she looks up at the sky. You quickly steal a glance at her neck, imagining what it would be like to trail kisses down her throat, to nip at the soft skin just under her collarbone, to take her ni-
“Looks like you’re safe now,” she says, a small, teasing smile playing at her lips.
The words snapped you out of your daydream.
Shit. She had caught you staring. And oh fuck, your mouth had dropped open slightly as you fantasised about her. Your clothes weren’t the only thing that was wet now. “Uh, um, yep. Thanks for the rescue,” you reply, scratching the back of your neck, trying to play it cool. “I owe you one.” You offer her a weak smile.
She cocks her head, considering you for a moment. “Yeah, you do.” There’s a flash of something playful in her eyes.
You raise an eyebrow, surprised by her easy agreement. “Oh? Planning to cash it in?”
Her smirk widens. “Maybe,” she says, voice low. “But I like to keep people guessing.”
Before you can respond to invite her in for a drink, she steps back, giving you a small, almost imperceptible wink before turning on her heal and walking away, leaving you standing there, wetter than you had been when she first found you but not from the rain.
-
You’re still thinking about your little encounter with Rio the next day at the gym. You’re in the locker room, towelling off after a particularly gruelling class, when you hear the familiar sound of a certain teasing voice. You glance up and see Rio leaning against the row of lockers, arms crossed over her chest, watching you with that same smirk from the day before. It was only then you noticed just how attractive you found her hands as they gripped her bicep.
“Fancy seeing you here,” she drawls, arching an eyebrow.
You chuckle, tossing your towel into your bag. “It’s almost like I come here at the same time every day or something.”
She doesn’t reply straight away; instead, she pushes her tongue into the cheek of her mouth, shaking her head at your retort. She pushes off the locker and steps closer. “Almost,” her gaze flicks over you, lingering just a moment too long. “You remember that favour you owe me?”
Your stomach flips, heat pooling low in your belly at the way she’s looking at you—dark eyes glinting with mischief, like she’s got a secret she’s about to share.
You swallow hard, trying to play it cool. “Yeah, I remember. You planning to cash it in?”
“Oh, definitely.” She takes another step, close enough now that you can feel the heat radiating off her skin. Your body seemed to be absorbing all of her heat and sending it straight between your legs. She reaches up, brushing a stray lock of hair away from your face, and her fingers linger against your cheek, a teasing caress that makes you ache with need.
“What did you have in mind?” you ask, your voice coming out breathier than you intended.
Her smirk widens, and she leans in, her lips brushing yours as she whispers, “You’ll find out soon enough, sweetheart.”
You shiver, your breath catching in your throat as she pulls back, giving you one last lingering look before she turns on her heel and saunters out of the locker room. Your heart is racing, anticipation thrumming through your veins. For a split second, you stand there frozen, unsure if you imagined the intensity in her gaze.
But then, just as you start to gather your things, you hear her voice call back from the doorway, rich and teasing.
“Well, are you coming? And remember to pick your jaw up off the floor on the way out.”
Your pulse spikes at the challenge in her tone, the words hanging in the air, heavy with desire. You don’t think. You don’t hesitate. You grab your bag, rushing to follow her out of the locker room, silently cursing yourself for being caught gaping at her once again
She’s already halfway down the corridor, glancing over her shoulder with a grin that sends a thrill through you. “Hurry up,” she calls, her voice low, almost like a command.
You catch up to her as she pushes through the gym’s exit, the cool night air hitting your skin. Without missing a beat, she heads straight for the parking lot, her steps purposeful. You fall in line beside her, curiosity and desire mixing in equal measure.
Her car is parked near the back, and before you can say anything, she’s unlocking the door and sliding into the driver’s seat with an easy, confident motion. She looks over at you as you approach, her eyes dark and inviting.
“Get in,” she says, low and charged.
You don’t need to be told twice. You slide into the passenger seat, and before you know it, the engine roars to life, the sound of tyres crunching on the gravel as she drives with purpose. The ride is quiet but thick with anticipation, the only sounds coming from the hum of the car and the occasional shift of your bodies as you both settle into the journey.
When she pulls into the driveway of her place, you can’t help but feel the electric charge in the air—there’s no mistaking the unspoken agreement between you. She parks and turns off the engine, unbuckling her seatbelt, leaving the silence to stretch between you, thick and expectant.
You wait for her to make the first move, and she doesn’t disappoint. Without a word, she reaches across the console, her fingers brushing yours as she unbuckles your seatbelt. “You’re going to see just how much I care,” she whispers in your ear, remembering your teasing comment from yesterday.
You just look at her, mouth going dry, searching for any hint of hesitation, but there’s none. Just an almost predatory stillness to her gaze. She leans down, her lips brushing the side of your neck, setting every nerve in your body alight.
“You wanted to know what I had in mind,” she murmurs against your skin, her breath warm, sending goosebumps over your arms. “I think it’s time you found out.”
She pulls back just enough to look you in the eyes, and before you can even respond, she’s kissing you—hard and hungry, her hand tangling in your hair, pulling you close. It’s urgent, like you’ve both been waiting for this moment, the tension from yesterday finally snapping.
Her lips move against yours with a feverish intensity, her hands already tugging at your clothes, exploring the heat between you. There’s no more teasing, no more games. Just the heat of the moment, the rush of desire, and the feeling of her body pressing against yours, claiming you as much as you’re claiming her.
She pulls back for a moment, breathless, her eyes scanning your face with a satisfied smirk. “You wanted to know,” she whispers again, her voice thick with desire, “now you’re going to learn exactly what it means to owe me.”
Before you can respond, she’s already round by your door, pulling you out of the car, her grip firm and unrelenting as she leads you towards her front door. The way she moves is confident, like she’s done this a thousand times, and it sends a thrill of excitement straight to your core. You stumble slightly, half from the urgency, half from the anticipation buzzing through your veins, but she doesn’t give you a chance to catch your breath.
Rio unlocks the door with swift precision, shoving it open and tugging you inside. The moment you cross the threshold, she’s on you again, pinning you against the closed door with her body, one hand braced beside your head and the other gripping your hip.
“Do you need me to do everything for you?” she murmurs, her voice full of mockery as she tilts your chin up with a single finger. There’s a taunting gleam in her eyes, like she knows exactly what she’s doing to you, and it’s infuriatingly effective.
You try to muster a cocky retort, smirking up at her. “Maybe I just like making you work for it.”
Her laugh is low and dark, vibrating against your skin. “Oh, you think you’re in control here?” She presses her knee between your legs, pinning you firmly in place. The pressure is just enough to make you gasp, your bravado faltering for a split second. “That’s cute,” she purrs, leaning in until her lips are brushing against your lips. “But we both know who’s really calling the shots tonight.”
Before you can react, she captures your mouth in a bruising kiss, her hand threading into your hair, tugging just hard enough to make your scalp tingle. It’s a claiming kiss, like she’s determined to make sure you remember this moment, to imprint herself on your body.
You try to push back to regain some semblance of control, but she’s not having it. She breaks the kiss with a sharp tug of your hair, pulling your head back to expose your throat. “I don’t think you understand,” she says, her voice a husky whisper as she drags her lips down the column of your neck, nipping at your skin. “You owe me. And I’m going to take exactly what I’m owed.”
You shiver, a whimper slipping past your lips before you can stop it. You hate how easily she turns you on and how she seems to know every spot that makes you melt. “What if I don’t want to pay up?” you manage to taunt, your voice breathy.
Rio’s smile is slow, scheming. “Oh, you will,” she says simply, stepping back and yanking you by the hand, dragging you down the hallway to her bedroom. You barely have time to register the surroundings before she’s pushing you onto the bed, her body hovering over yours, caging you in.
She pauses, looking down at you with a smirk, her eyes dark and half-lidded with desire. “Do you need me to do everything for you?” She repeats, and this time there’s a distinct edge of command in her voice.
You raise an eyebrow, refusing to look away. “Maybe I do.”
She chuckles, the sound low and almost dangerous. “Fine,” she breathes, leaning down to kiss you again, softer this time but no less intense. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Her hands are everywhere, tugging at your clothes, stripping you bare with a skill and efficiency that leaves you breathless. Every touch feels like it’s setting you on fire, the anticipation building to a fever as she takes her time, teasing, testing your limits. When you try to touch her, she grabs your wrists, pinning them above your head with a single hand.
“Ah, ah,” she chimes, her grin sharp. “You said you needed me to do everything for you. So keep your hands to yourself, and let me take care of you.”
You want to argue, to push back, but the look in her eyes makes you hesitate. There’s a thrill in giving in, in letting her take control, and you realise with a pulse of excitement that you want this—want to see what she’ll do when she’s given free rein.
Rio doesn’t waste any time. Her mouth is on your skin, lips and teeth and tongue, exploring every inch of you. She’s relentless, drawing out sounds from you that you didn’t even know you could make. When her hand slips between your thighs, you arch into her touch, a moan slipping out before you can stop it.
“Already?” she teases, her fingers teasing along your inner thigh, deliberately avoiding where you want her most. “You talk a big game, but look at you now. So eager, so needy.”
You glare up at her, trying to muster a retort, but it comes out as a whine instead when she finally touches you where you need it most, her fingers sliding against your slick heat. She smirks down at you, clearly enjoying the way you react, your back arching off the bed, your hips bucking into her hand.
“That’s what I thought,” she says, her voice soft but edged with dominance. “You’re going to be good for me, aren’t you? You’re going to give me everything I want.”
You bite your lip, trying to hold back a moan. “Maybe,” you say, aiming for defiance but sounding breathless instead.
Her smirk widens. “Maybe?” she repeats, leaning down until her mouth is at your ear, her breath hot against your skin. “That’s not good enough.”
With a sudden, purposeful movement, she shifts, sliding two fingers inside you, her thumb pressing against your most sensitive spot. You cry out, your hands instinctively trying to reach for her, but she tightens her grip on your wrists, keeping you pinned down.
“Say it,” she commands, her voice low and insistent. “Say you’ll be good for me.”
You struggle for a moment, clinging to the last shred of your pride, but when she curls her fingers just right, the pleasure shoots through you like a lightning bolt, and you break.
“I’ll be good,” you gasp, your voice almost a sob. “I’ll be good for you, Rio.”
She hums in satisfaction, pressing a kiss to your mouth. “Good,” she murmurs, her lips curling into a smile against your skin. “Now let me show you what it means to really owe me.”
Once again, you are gaping at the woman before you, and she takes the opportunity to slip her tongue into your mouth. Your moans are gradually growing louder and more unhinged with each stroke of Rio’s fingers, and you’re about to cum when she pulls away completely.
You whine at the loss of touch, but this only spurs Rio on more. “You didn’t think it would be that easy, did you?” she asks, now running her hands up and down your sides. “I’m going to undress for you now, and you need to look at me the whole time, okay?”
You’re not sure if you should answer. Not sure if you can answer. The questions seem rhetorical, but you’re so eager to get her touch back that you nod enthusiastically, hoping it’s the right thing to do.
Rio chuckles softly at your desperation and starts to strip. It’s slow and deliberate. She starts by shimmying her shorts down, kicking them into the corner with a flick of her foot. Next she peels off her top, crossing her arms at the hem and pulling it over her head slowly. Very slowly. The action pushes Rio’s tits together, drawing your eyes to her cleavage. It’s all too much, and you bring your hand down and start to touch yourself, your eyes fluttering shut. Feeling your wetness on your fingers for the first time, you let out a soft pathetic whimper.
Big mistake. Rio is on you in an instant, tugging your hand away and securing your wrists to the bed frame with ropes you had failed to notice until now.
“If you can’t behave, I will make you behave.” Rio snapped, her voice wasn’t malicious, no, instead, it almost came out as a moan and you realised just how turned on she was.
Disappearing into her closet briefly, she quickly returns, holding something behind her back and an innocent smile plastered across her face, but her eyes hid something more dangerous. “Shut your eyes,” she demanded. “Now.”
You obliged and then felt as the mattress dipped with her weight. You could feel her straddling your waist, gently lifting your head to put something over your eyes.
“Since you clearly didn’t want to watch,” she clarified, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.
You strain your ears trying to get some sort of idea of what was going on but you cannot make out any distinct noise. That’s when you feel her start to caress your legs again, trailing light, teasing kisses right up to your core.
She was kneeling between your thighs when you felt the tip of something cold and hard push in to your entrance.
“Fffuuuuccckkkk,” you moan, drawing out the word as Rio’s strap fills you completely.
Her movements are slow at first, easing you in to it. “You’re being so good for me, darling,” she coos. “Taking me so well.” Then her pace starts picking up, thrusting in to you harder each time.
It’s a relentless pleasure, and you can feel yourself barrelling towards an orgasm. Rio must sense it too as she grasps her hand around your throat, giving it a light squeeze. “Ask for it.”
“Pl-please. Please Rio. I need to cum,” you try your hardest to get your words out between moans, unsure if you could actually stop yourself from climaxing if she denies your pleas.
Luckily for you, you don’t have to find out as Rio hums her agreement, tilting your hips to reach another angle. “Good girl. Cum for me, I want to watch your beautiful face as you cum,” you hear her gasp out, clearly working herself up as well.
You climax with a flurry of moans and gasps, arching further into Rio. The woman fucking you shows no sign of stopping, drawing out the pleasure. You feel her leaning over to her nightstand, picking something up with a grunt, when the stap rubs just right against her clit. Just as you start to wonder what an earth she had picked up, you hear a faint click, and suddenly the strap starts vibrating inside you.
This time it’s both of you moaning and gasping with each thrust as Rio guides you through another orgasm.
“Fuck, fuck,” Rio is panting. “Fuck, baby, I’m cumming.” Rio collapses into you, breathing hard. She stays there for a while before slowly pulling out and removing the blindfold, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.
She ducks into her bathroom, grabbing a cloth to clean you up. Her touches are gentle and soothing. “You did so good, sweetheart.” Rio’s voice is soft as she lies down next to you, scooping you into her arms.
You look up at her, blinking slowly, the adrenaline draining out of you. “That was not what I had in mind when I said I owe you one,” you sigh, coming to rest your head on her chest.
“Oh yeah?” One of Rio’s hands comes up to play with your hair, the other stroking up and down your arm. “And what were you thinking of, hmm?” She whispers softly. “Because your staring was definitely not subtle.”
All you can do is huff out a small laugh, her hands coaxing you into an easy sleep. With another kiss to the top of your head, Rio wishes you a good night and holds you as you drift off peacefully.
Summary: You come home from college for the weekend but your parents forgot and you are locked out of the house. Luckily your neighbour finds you and they let you stay at theirs
-OR-
You think the neighbours are MILFs and the evening is filled with flirting and then you get to be fucked by each of them and then by both of them.
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, top Agatha, top Rio, small mention of Mommy kink, strap-on use, oral, there might be more idk it's very horny
Words: 4.6k of pure horniness
A/N: I think I blacked out while writing this, its so horny. It's inspired by this request and hasn't even been proofread yet so enjoy the horny mess of it
Tagging @aceday because I said I would
AO3 | Part 2 | Master List
The rain falls in relentless sheets, soaking through your jacket, and the rest of your clothes, for that matter. Each step squelches as you trudge the familiar path from the train station to your parents’ house. By the time you reach the front door, your teeth are chattering, and your clothes cling damply to your skin. A sigh escapes your lips as you grasp the handle and pull—only to find it locked. Your heart sinks.
The memory hits you like a slap: the locks were changed after they had a break-in a few months ago. Of course, you’ve forgotten to get a new key. Fumbling through your bag, you pray for some miracle, some overlooked backdoor key, but your search turns up nothing except your phone. A quick glance at the screen confirms no messages from your parents and no backup plan. Frustration mingles with despair as you stand shivering, wondering what to do next.
Footsteps break through the downpour, and you turn to see Agatha, your parents’ neighbour, crossing her lawn towards you. You’ve exchanged pleasantries with her and her wife, Rio, a few times during your trips home from college. They’re always friendly, but you’ve never spoken beyond casual greetings. That hasn’t stopped you from admiring them, though—two stunning women, each with their own magnetic charm. And yes, you’ve labelled them MILFs in your mind more than once. Their son, Nicholas, is long gone from the nest, leaving the two women to embody a kind of confident, enviable domesticity.
Agatha snaps you out of your spiralling thoughts with a two short words. “Locked out?” Her voice is smooth, with a hint of amusement as she tilts her head and surveys you.
You open your mouth to respond, but your gaze catches on her appearance. She’s wearing tight black leggings that cling to her toned legs and a cropped gym shirt that reveals her navel, where a bead of rainwater trails tantalisingly down her skin. Her wavy brown hair is piled into a loose bun, though a few strands cling to her flushed neck. A sheen of sweat glistens on her skin—evidence of a workout she must have just finished. Your thoughts betray you as your eyes linger on the curve of her waist, imagining what it might feel like to touch her. A sudden heat rising to your cheeks.
Her blue eyes lock onto yours, a curious smile curving her lips. “Hey, you alright?” she asks, a teasing lilt in her tone.
You stammer an explanation about the locked door, your forgotten key, and your parents’ apparent absence. Agatha’s expression softens, and she motions towards her house with a nod. “Come on, you’re soaked to the bone. You’ll catch your death standing out here.”
For a moment, you hesitate. Accepting her offer feels… intimate somehow. But the alternative is staying in the cold rain, and the way her gaze lingers on you makes warmth crawl up your spine. You nod and follow her.
Agatha’s house is welcoming, with a faint scent of flowers mingling with something earthy and grounding. She grabs a towel from a nearby linen closet and tosses it to you with a playful grin. “Guest bathroom’s down here,” she says. “You’ve got two options: strip down and warm up, or stay wet and risk getting sick.”
Your eyes widen, startled by her bluntness. Agatha leans casually against the doorframe, smirking at your reaction. “Relax,” she teases. “I’ll get you something dry to wear.” And with that, she saunters away, not bothering to close the door fully behind her. Her confidence leaves you both flustered and intrigued.
Inside the bathroom, you peel off your soaked clothes, debating how much to remove. In the end, you leave your underwear on, wrapping yourself tightly in the towel. When Agatha returns, she hands you a pair of shorts and a blue plaid shirt. Her sharp eyes sweep over you, noting your wet underclothes with a tut. “All of it,” she says pointedly. “You’re dripping everywhere.” Before you can respond, she adds, “I’m off to shower. Rio should be back soon.” She turns and leaves, her movements fluid and deliberate, leaving the door ajar once more.
Feeling the weight of her words and gaze, you strip completely, your damp underwear joining the rest of your clothes in a soggy pile. You’re still mulling over what to do with them when the door opens suddenly. Rio steps in, her dark eyes widening as they land on you.
“Oh—sorry,” she says, though her gaze lingers a beat too long before she averts her eyes. “Didn’t know we had company. Agatha didn’t mention it.” Her tone is low and smooth, carrying a quiet amusement that makes your skin prickle.
You stammer an apology, clutching the towel back around you. Rio’s lips quirk upward in a faint smirk as she backs out of the bathroom, but not before you catch the way her gaze sweeps over you. Your heart pounds in your chest long after the door closes.
You quickly shower to warm up, but there’s no cleaning the thoughts inside your head. Memories of Rio’s lingering gaze replay in your mind, but they’re quickly overtaken by images of Agatha. You can’t help imagining what she looks like under the water, her skin glistening with steam, her hair sticking to her neck. The thought is startling, and you shake your head, trying to rid yourself of the fantasy.
After calming your racing mind, you dress in the clothes Agatha left and leave the guest bathroom to find the two women.
You find them both in the kitchen; the warmth a welcome contrast to the chill that had soaked through your bones earlier. Agatha moves fluidly between the stove and counter, stirring something fragrant in a pot that smells like tomatoes, garlic, and fresh herbs. Rio, meanwhile, arranges a bouquet of vibrant flowers in a vase with meticulous care, her strong hands working delicately to adjust the stems.
It’s domestic, serene even, but there’s an undeniable electricity in the air—one you can’t ignore under the weight of their lingering glances.
Agatha’s grin spreads when she notices you lingering awkwardly near the door. “Looking good,” she says, her eyes flickering over the borrowed clothes. The oversized plaid shirt hangs slightly off your shoulder, and her gaze lingers on the exposed line of your clavicle.
You fidget, tugging the fabric up, but Agatha only smirks, stirring the pot with a deliberate slowness.
Rio rolls her eyes, though there’s a faint curve to her lips. “Ignore her,” she says, her voice laced with playful exasperation. “She loves making people squirm.”
You manage a sheepish laugh, but it does little to quell the heat climbing up your neck. Agatha recounts your lockout predicament to Rio with the same teasing edge, her tone carrying just enough detail to make your situation sound both pitiful and amusing.
Rio hums in understanding, sliding the last flower into place and stepping back to admire her work. “Stay for dinner,” she offers, her dark eyes soft with genuine warmth. “It’s the least we can do.”
Agatha winks at you over her shoulder. “Yeah, we can’t have you heading back out into the rain getting all wet again—the downpour outside hasn’t let up.”
You nod, accepting their offer, though the way they exchange glances—subtle but charged—makes your stomach twist with something you can’t quite name.
As you sit at the dining table, Rio who is opposite you, starts pouring red wine into three glasses; her movements fluid and confident. Agatha joins you a moment later, setting down plates of steaming pasta and sitting next to her wife. “Hope you like red,” she says, her teasing smile returning.
The conversation flows easily over dinner; their attention split between each other and you. They ask about college life, your plans for the future, and your family; their questions laced with genuine interest and just enough flirtation to keep you on edge
When you have all finished, Rio stands to clear the plates, leaning close as she reaches for yours. The proximity is dizzying, her chest brushing your shoulder, and you catch a faint, earthy scent clinging to her skin.
Agatha doesn’t miss a beat, her eyes flickering between you and Rio, her expression smouldering. She doesn’t say a word, but the intensity in her gaze speaks volumes.
When you offer to help with the dishes, they wave you off with a chorus of “nonsense.” Agatha’s smile turns wicked. “Besides, we were supposed to have a movie date night tonight. You should join us—it’d be a shame to let all this wine go to waste.”
The phrasing makes you pause, but before you can think too much about it, Agatha ushers you into the living room.
The room is cozy, bathed in the soft glow of lamps. Rio claims the armchair with an almost feline grace, crossing her legs and leaning back with a glass of wine in hand. Agatha sprawls on the couch, her posture open and inviting. She pats the seat beside her with an easy smile.
You hesitate for half a second before sitting on the far end of the couch, hyper-aware of the space—or lack thereof—between you.
The movie starts, but it’s impossible to focus. Agatha stretches her arm along the back of the couch, her fingers brushing your shoulder lightly. The touch is casual, almost innocent, but it sends your pulse racing.
She leans over at one point to refill your glass, her chest grazing your arm. The heat of her proximity is overwhelming, and you’re sure Rio notices the way you stiffen. There’s a flicker of amusement in her dark eyes as she takes a sip from her own glass, her lips quirking into a faint smirk.
As the movie progresses, the conversation becomes more pointed. They ask if you’re seeing anyone, and when you choke on your wine at the question, Agatha laughs—a low, throaty sound that makes your stomach flutter.
“No,” you mumble, setting your glass down a little too quickly.
“Well, that’s a shame,” she says, her hand brushing your knee lightly. The weight of her touch lingers, even as she pulls away. “I was sure a pretty little thing like you would get snapped up in a heartbeat.”
Rio arches a brow at her wife. “Don’t scare them off, Aggie.”
“What? I’m just being friendly,” Agatha replies, her tone innocent but her smirk anything but.
The conversation continues, peppered with light touches and teasing remarks that leave your heart racing.
By the time the credits roll, the tension in the room is palpable. Rio sets her glass down and stretches, her movements deliberate as she rises from the chair. “What do you think of married life, Aggie?” she asks, her voice light but carrying an edge. “Think we make a good team?”
Agatha’s gaze flicks to you, her lips curving into a smirk. “The best. But sometimes, it’s nice to mix things up.”
The comment hangs in the air, heavy with implication. Your heart pounds as you glance between them, unsure if you’re imagining the tension or if they’re deliberately baiting you—and each other.
You nervously check your phone, hoping for a message from your parents saying they’re home and wondering where you are. Instead, you find a single text: “Out of town for the weekend, hope you’re doing okay!”
You stare at the screen in disbelief, your stomach sinking.
“Everything alright?” Rio asks, noticing your expression.
"They… forgot I was coming,” you admit, feeling foolish. “They’re away for the weekend.”
Agatha clicks her tongue, feigning shock. “Terrible parenting, really. Lucky for you, we’re not going anywhere.”
Rio nods, her tone reassuring. “You can stay here. We’ll take good care of you.”
There’s something about the way she says it—gentle but with a sharp edge—that makes your breath hitch. You thank them profusely, trying to ignore the heat rising in your cheeks as they show you to the guest room.
They leave you alone for a bit, both going to change. You sit on the bed, your thoughts racing. Their lingering glances replay in your mind, stirring something restless and uncertain. Without thinking, you pick up your phone and start searching their names on social media. Your heart beats faster as you hope for a bikini picture or something—anything—that might help you satisfy the growing ache of desire.
A knock at the door startles you, and you quickly set the phone aside. Rio steps in, holding a phone charger. “Thought you might need this,” she says, her voice soft and her gaze steady.
“Thanks,” you manage, taking it from her. Her fingers brush yours for a fleeting moment, and she lingers by the door before slipping away.
Did she know what you were about to do?
A short while later, there’s another knock. This time, it’s Agatha, holding a glass of water. “Thought you might be thirsty,” she says, her tone lighter, almost teasing.
Surely she hears how that sounds, right?
Her fingers graze yours as she hands it to you, and the warmth of her touch lingers long after she leaves. You sit on the edge of the bed, clutching the glass, your mind spinning with questions you can’t answer.
"Okay, it’s totally normal to be offered a glass of water before bed, and it does not mean they can read your mind,” you whisper to yourself, trying to curb your horniness.
—
Later that night, as you lie in bed, unable to sleep, the events of the evening are still playing over in your mind, especially the lingering touches and smirks. Suddenly, you remember the spare key your parents used to keep hidden under the plant pot by the front door. Without even thinking about how weird it was to up and leave in the middle of the night, you hop out of bed and tiptoe down the hallway, careful not to make a sound. But just as you reach the stairs, a voice stops you cold.
“Exactly where do you think you’re sneaking off to?”
Turning slowly, you see Agatha leaning against a doorway, her silhouette illuminated by the faint light from her bedroom. She is wearing a floral robe, and her hair is slightly mussed; her expression is both amused and predatory.
“I—I wasn’t sneaking,” you stammer, holding up your hands defensively. “I just remembered my parents used to keep a spare key under the plant pot. I thought I’d grab it and let myself in—”
“Without saying goodbye?” she interrupts, stepping closer. Her tone is teasing, but there’s a sharpness to her gaze that makes your pulse quicken.
Before you can respond, another figure appears behind her. It’s Rio, wearing nothing but her underwear and a top that reads: BOHNER FAMILY REUNION. PITCH A TENT. Her dark hair is messy, and you notice a small, mouth-shaped bruise blooming on her neck that definitely wasn’t there earlier.
“You were being so good for us before now,” Rio says softly, her voice carrying an edge that makes your knees weak. “We said we’d take care of you, didn’t we?”
The heat in your cheeks is unbearable now, and there is a familiar wetness pooling between your thighs. You stammer out an apology, but their combined presence is overwhelming.
“Relax,” Agatha purrs, her fingers grazing your arm. “We’re not upset, just disappointed you wouldn’t come see us before saying goodbye.”
Before you can process her words, Rio steps forward, her hand gently tilting your chin up to meet her gaze. “Where were you going to sleep after grabbing that key, hmm? Your parents’ dark, empty house? Sounds pretty lonely to me,” she murmurs, her lips curving into a faint smirk as Agatha’s hands slide around your waist.
Rio’s touch is featherlight yet commanding, her fingers tilting your chin just enough to keep your wide-eyed gaze locked with hers. Her dark eyes glimmer with something unreadable—intensity, curiosity, desire, maybe all three.
You’re painfully aware of Agatha’s hands on your waist, her touch firm but teasing, fingers curling just slightly as if testing your reaction. “And what would you do when you found out that they no longer keep one there? They stopped doing it since the break-in, don’t you know? Would you come back over here and beg for us to take you back in and keep you warm?” Agatha says softly, her breath brushing against the back of your neck.
You try to answer, but your words stick in your throat as Rio steps closer, her thumb brushing along your jawline.
“She’s right,” Rio adds softly, her voice low and velvety. “Why sneak off when you’re already here?”
Your heart is racing, your pulse pounding in your ears as you look between them. You want to say something—anything—but the weight of their combined attention renders you speechless.
Agatha chuckles, the sound rich and almost predatory. “Cat got your tongue, sweetheart?” She presses closer, her front brushing against your back now, her lips grazing the shell of your ear.
Before you fully realise what’s happening, Agatha and Rio are guiding you away from the stairs. You’re caught between them, their touches subtle yet deliberate. They lead you down the hall, past the guest room, and into the master bedroom.
The room is large but intimate, the air carrying the faint scent of cedarwood. A soft glow from a bedside lamp casts warm shadows across the space. Agatha releases your waist to close the door behind you; the click of the lock is startlingly loud in the quiet.
Rio takes the lead now, her hands resting lightly on your arms as she guides you towards the bed. Her touch is warm and grounding, yet there’s a deliberate slowness to her movements, like she’s savouring the moment.
“You’ve had a long day,” she says, her voice soothing but laced with something deeper. “Let us take care of you.”
Agatha steps into view, her smirk as confident as ever. “Or, we can stop. If that’s what you want?” She asks, tilting her head as she studies you.
Your heart pounds as you shake your head, unable to trust your voice.
Agatha’s smile widens, satisfaction gleaming in her bright blue eyes. “Be good and use your words for us, hun.”
“Please don’t stop,” you whimper.
At that, Agatha moves swiftly to your other side, her presence as bold as ever. Her fingers brush against your jaw, turning your head slightly so you’re looking directly at her. “You’re so tense,” she murmurs, her thumb grazing your cheek in a gesture that feels both comforting and intimate. “We’ll fix that.”
You barely have time to process her words before Rio steps closer, her body heat radiating against yours. Her hand trails down your arm, her touch featherlight but deliberate, as if she’s memorising every inch of you.
The room seems to shrink as the weight of their attention consumes you.
Agatha’s thumb brushes against your bottom lip, and you feel a thrill shoot through you as her lips quirk into that teasing, predatory smile.
“See something you like?” she murmurs, her voice a low purr. “You weren’t careful enough not to like some of our pictures online, darling.”
Shit. So their coming into your room was not a coincidence.
Before you can stammer out an excuse, her lips capture yours—soft but demanding, her confidence evident in the way she takes control. Her hands slide up to cradle your face, her touch firm yet tender, while the kiss is a paradox of teasing and intensity.
Rio’s hands suddenly slide to your hips, pulling your attention. Agatha leans back just slightly, her breath fanning your face as her lips curve into a smirk.
“Your turn, my love,” she says, glancing at Rio with a playful challenge in her eyes.
Rio doesn’t hesitate. Her movements are firm as she tilts your chin towards her, her lips finding yours in a kiss that’s slower, softer, but no less consuming. Where Agatha is fire and fervour, Rio is water, her touch calm yet undeniably intoxicating. Her hand presses gently against the small of your back, holding you steady as she deepens the kiss.
When she finally pulls away, her lips linger close to yours, her breath mingling with yours in the quiet of the room. “You taste as good as I thought you would,” she murmurs, her voice low and laced with something that makes your knees weak.
Agatha laughs softly, stepping even closer so that you’re cocooned between them. Her fingers trail down your arm, igniting sparks along your skin. “I think they’re enjoying this, don’t you darling?” she teases, her gaze flicking between you and Rio.
Rio smirks, her eyes glinting in the dim light. “I’d say so.”
They exchange a knowing glance before Agatha’s hands firmly grip your shoulders, and with a playful yet commanding push, they guide you onto the bed, the softness of the sheets contrasting with the harsh intensity of their movements.
Agatha walks into what you presume is her closet, but you don’t think on it for long as Rio is straddling you in a matter of moments. She is kissing you with a deep need; meanwhile, her hand makes its way under the waistband of your shorts; she swipes two of her fingers through your folds, gathering your wetness, letting out a groan of pleasure at the feel of it and brings her fingers to your lips.
Just as you’re about to take her digits in your mouth, you hear Agatha’s voice full of desire call, "Off."
But Rio doesn’t move; instead, she pushes her fingers into your mouth, groaning at the feeling.
Agatha grabs the woman by the scruff of the neck and yanks her off of you.
“But Aggie, they’re so wet already,” Rio whines.
If your lips weren’t already parted from having sucked on Rio’s fingers, your mouth would have dropped open at the sight of Agatha; she had removed her robe, revealing the purple lace lingerie underneath.
She places something you can’t see at the foot of the bed and comes to stand next to you. “It seems like everything you wear ends up soaked,” she says, mock concern coating every word.
Rio looks longingly at Agatha, a silent request on her face. With a single nod from Agatha, Rio starts undressing you hungrily. And as soon as you're bare, her mouth is on you again, exploring every inch of newly exposed skin.
“You know,” Agatha drawls, “Before your little stunt back there, my wife and I were finishing off our date with a wonderful night in bed.” She continued. “Both of us talked—or rather tried to talk between our moans—about how we’d get you to join us.” You feel Rio smirk against your skin at this last sentence.
You shudder under Rio’s relentless kisses and Agatha’s firm gaze. Your legs are forced apart with strong hands, and you feel the cool air hit your heat.
“You’re dripping everywhere,” Agatha states for the second time that evening. “Now let us take care of you.” Her voice is sure, leaving no room for arguments.
Rio’s makes her way down your body, nipping and sucking at your skin. When she reaches your thighs, her touch becomes lighter, stopping short of where you want her mouth most.
“Please.” You beg, back arching up into her.
The feeling of her lips on your clit is pure ecstasy. Your eyes flutter shut at the sensation of Rio starting to suck lightly. Moaning, you grab a fistful of her hair and grind up into her face, seeking more.
She hums in satisfaction, happy to fulfil your request. She nips gently and begins to tease your entrance with her tongue, dipping it in ever so slightly. It doesn’t take long before you’re cumming all over her face, her name falling repeatedly from your lips. It’s only when you start to come back down that you remember Agatha is still in the room. She is looking at you with sheer lust, clearly struggling to keep herself from interrupting Rio’s fun.
As if they could read each other’s minds, Rio withdraws from between your legs and comes to sit behind you, pulling you up so your back is against her chest. She pinches one of your nipples, causing your head to drop back on to her shoulder. A firm hand grips your chin, forcing it back up, and you open your eyes to see Agatha kneeling between your legs, her hands rubbing up and down your thighs.
“You need to look at Mommy when she fucks you,” Rio whispers in your ear before playfully nibbling your earlobe.
Agatha’s arms snake under your legs, pulling your hips up and into her. It’s then that you feel something hard poke you, making your eyes go wide. At some point when Rio was fucking you, Agatha had slipped into a harness, a purple dildo secured firmly in the centre.
“Are you sure you want this?” She asks, bringing the tip to your entrance. “I’ll only continue with your enthusiastic consent.”
The fact that she cares enough to make sure you were definitely okay with this, only turns you on more. “Yes. Please, Agatha—" Rio's grip on your jaw tightens. “Mommy,” you correct yourself. “Please fuck me, Mommy.”
And with that, she slides into you, facing very little resistance with how wet you are. As she bottoms out, her hips pressing into yours, you can’t help the whimper that escapes your lips.
“Kiss me,” you demand.
You hear Agatha chuckle when she leans into you, capturing your lips in a searing kiss while still continuing her thrusts.
The sex is messy and loud, and you cum at least two more times before the couple shows any kind of stopping. You are left gasping, your body shaking; Rio’s firm hold on you is the only thing keeping you upright.
“Think you can go for one more round, sweetheart?” Agatha teases as Rio climbs out from behind you.
With the strap still inside you, Agatha rolls you over so she is lying on the bed and you are straddling her hips. The other woman settles her thighs on either side of Agatha’s head, facing you.
“Honey, you really have enjoyed having our guest round, haven’t you?”
Rio doesn’t reply, only winking at you before lowering herself onto Agatha’s face.
You start to grind your hips at the sight, the strap hitting the perfect spot inside you, Agatha begins to flick her tongue over Rio’s clit, and Rio pulls your face in to start making out with you. This change in position has the harness rubbing against Agatha’s clit, pulling the most gorgeous moans from her. All of you are lost in waves of pleasure; the sounds of grunting, moaning, and whining filling the room.
You all cum at different times, but it doesn’t matter because nobody stops until the last of you is coaxed through the final aftershocks of your orgasms.
Untangling yourself from one another, you and Rio flop down beside Agatha, dumb smiles plastered across all of your faces. It’s a few minutes before they get up, but Agatha takes off the harness, giving it to her wife before coming back and drawing you into her arms. Rio wanders off to their bathroom to clean it off and returns with a wet cloth to clean you up as well.
She rejoins you after she's done and presses a soft kiss to your head, coming to lay down behind you, draping her arm across your body. With the three of you like that, it is not long before you fall into a deep sleep, a small smile still visible on your lips.
You were going to ache in the morning, but right this second you couldn’t find a single fuck to give.
——
Please like&reblog if you enjoyed, I thrive off external validation and it motivates me to write more stuff like this 👀
jac scaeffer apologizing for how agatahrio was handled???? this quickly after the show ended??? NO MCU CREATIVE HAS EVER WE FORGIVE YOU GIRL NOW GET BACK IN THAT WRITING ROOM AND GET STARTED ON AGATHARIO THE SERIES LUV U
when lilia realized she was the traveler and starting dealing the cards to herself and we saw how each card represented a character, thats when i knew.
this is hands down the best marvel show yet. argue with the wall.
i’m sorry this just pissed me OFF like wdym you had this all planned out and you scrapped it for more of billy’s arc bc their story was “informed” ????? NO GIRL we wanted/needed to see the story fleshed out for the fight at the end and agatha’s monologue to fully make sense
What do you mean you had an original scene where Agatha asked Rio to retire her current form, only for Rio to remind Agatha that this was who she fell in love with and decided to instead go with "I don't want to see your face"?
The former is literally SO much better and so much more in line with the characterization that we saw throughout the show, of Agatha being unable to help herself from loving Rio, but also being reminded of Nicholas every time she sees her. It would make SO much sense for her to ask Rio to retire her current form, to present as something different to make it easier for them to potentially move forward.
And for Rio to actually acknowledge the fact that Agatha fell in love with this Rio, to acknowledge that deep history instead of just screaming manically at her from a rooftop "why don't you love me"?
100x better.
I really want to know the thought process behind the switch, because something so small could have completely changed the entire tone of the finale
I will never forgive them for cutting out the "Retire that form" and Rio responding "This is the me you fell in love with." WHY WOULD THEY CHANGE IT LAST MINUTE TO AGATHA SAYING SHE NEVER WANTS TO SEE HER AGAIN?? IM SICK.
Unless AAA is getting a second season that's going to be Agatha's backstory, I don't understand why Jac would say this. It should have been done this season during the salem flashback.
One scene of them before Nicky was born could have made such a difference. We only got to see Agatha and Rio being toxic with eachother. Does Jac not see how fucked up that is? What was even the point of all the yearning and stolen glances through-out the show if you were going to cut everything out, villainize Rio and make Agatha hate her again? She gave us no context whatsoever. Wtf we shouldn't have to put the story together ourselves.
agatha getting her own show to serve as a plot device for billy… only for it to end with her dying and existing only to be a sidekick for billy is just so sick and twisted to me. and our first explicit sapphic romance in the mcu was described canonically as toxic and had little to no development even w almost a full episode devoted to flashbacks….
So they created a coven of strong female characters, all to sacrifice them one by one for the single male character, who is arguably the least interesting? You have to be shitting me.
Stay tuned for my rewrite of these two episodes because TRUST fanfiction will be fixing this.
