I’m probably gonna post here more cause I used to have a TikTok acc but TikTok been acting weird lately and I don’t trust the app since it’s been bought.
Didn’t draw all day before this but I was feeling anxious and just felt like drawing. It honestly kinda made me feel better + listening to some of my fav music :D
Agathario AU | Agatha just needed a baseball coach for her kid. She didn’t plan on catching feelings.
Agatha studied the young woman who strolled onto her manicured lawn, looking more rebel than structured coach. Her hair was tied back in a no-nonsense ponytail and she exuded an easy confidence that clashed with Agatha’s buttoned-up demeanor.
“Coach Vidal?” Agatha asked, crossing her arms.
“That’s me,” Rio replied, shifting a duffel bag on her shoulder. “You must be Nicky’s mom.”
“Agatha,” she corrected, extending a handshake.
Nicky poked his head out from behind Agatha’s legs. “Are you really a pro ballplayer?”
Rio’s grin softened, and she switched briefly to Spanish. “Claro, pequeñín. Ready to become una estrella?”
Nicky’s eyes lit up. “You speak Spanish?”
“Grew up with it,” Rio said proudly, then winked at Agatha. “We can do lessons in both languages if you want.”
Agatha felt a tug in her chest at the easy way Rio included her son. Maybe hiring this woman had been the right call after all.
The first few weeks followed a steady pattern. Rio arrived twice a week to teach Nicky batting, pitching, and fielding. She teased him gently, guided him with a firm but patient hand, and didn’t seem to mind if he talked non-stop about cartoon superheroes in between drills.
Agatha hovered at a polite distance, watching. There was a careful neutrality to their exchanges; after all, she had hired Rio for a service, nothing more. Still, she couldn’t help warming to the girl’s enthusiasm and the way Nicky’s eyes danced whenever Rio praised him.
One evening, after Nicky sprawled out on the couch, exhausted from practice, Rio lingered to chat with Agatha in the kitchen. Soft conversation about baseball turned into more personal confessions like how Rio’s childhood had been turbulent, how she moved around too much to keep friends, or how Agatha had been a single mom since Nicky was a toddler.
A small hush settled as they each realized: They were sharing more than just small talk. And neither seemed ready to stop.
Agatha prided herself on being composed, but she found her thoughts drifting to Rio’s half-smile or her easy laugh at odd moments—during work meetings or while sorting laundry. Sometimes she’d recall the way Rio guided Nicky’s hands on the bat, so patient and earnest.
For Rio, the feeling was mutual. She’d arrive at the Harkness home and feel inexplicable relief like walking into a place she was actually wanted. She found herself joking in Spanish with Nicky, then translating for Agatha, who watched it all with a soft, guarded smile.
Over dinner one night—Agatha had insisted Rio stay, “since you’re already here”—Rio set down her fork and looked up. “I’m not… good at being part of people’s lives. I usually move on quick.”
Agatha poured more water for both of them. “I understand. I’m not great at letting people in, either.”
A flicker of vulnerability passed between them. Rio forced a grin, diffusing the heaviness. “We’re quite a pair, huh?”
Agatha merely smiled in that quiet, knowing way. “Maybe we are.”
A few weeks later, after a particularly great practice session, Rio turned to Agatha with a spark in her eye. “Let me take you somewhere fun tonight. A date, if you’re up for it.”
Agatha arched an eyebrow, intrigued. She’d half-expected a swanky bar or a chic restaurant. Instead, when they pulled up to an old-school batting cage on the edge of town, she let out a surprised laugh. “Seriously? This is your idea of a first date?”
Rio shrugged, pulling out two bats from her trunk. “Hey, I promised it’d be fun.”
Agatha rolled her eyes, but a hint of a smile tugged at her lips. “Alright. Impress me.”
Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, illuminating the row of cages. The muffled clang of metal on baseball echoed around them. Rio slid a token into the machine, stepped up to the plate, and cracked a ball dead center on her first swing. She launched several more in quick succession, her body relaxed and confident.
Watching from behind the chain-link, Agatha tried not to stare too blatantly at Rio’s toned arms, the flash of delicate skin as her shirt lifted with each swing. Still, a flutter in her stomach reminded her she wasn’t immune to the quiet lure of this woman.
When it was Agatha’s turn, Rio insisted on helping her form. “Loosen your grip,” Rio murmured, stepping behind her. Her hands slid over Agatha’s, guiding the bat. Their bodies almost touched, heat radiating between them.
Agatha swallowed hard, inhaling the faint scent of Rio’s shampoo. “You’re making this… distracting,” she teased breathlessly.
Rio’s lips curved near Agatha’s ear. “Maybe that’s on purpose.”
Agatha half-laughed, half-sighed. “You’re a lot of talk, you know that?”
Rio chuckled. “You can handle it.”
Agatha swung the bat… and missed by a mile. Both dissolved into laughter. But as the humor subsided, an underlying tension remained, heavier and more significant than simple flirtation.
After a few awkward misses, Rio hit pause on the machine. Agatha lowered the bat, feeling her heart pound. The realization struck her: She wanted this closeness with Rio. And not just tonight, but something real. Something a single mother like her had to be cautious about.
Rio noticed her pensive expression. “You okay, sweetheart?”
Agatha set the bat aside. “If we keep going,” she began softly, “it can’t just be a fling. I can’t do casual, Rio. I have a son to think about.”
Rio’s eyes flickered with understanding. “You think I’d do all this just to walk away?”
Agatha shrugged, vulnerability creeping into her posture. “I’m not sure...”
Rio nodded, stepping closer, voice steady but gentle. “I’m not walking away from this.”
Relief flooded Agatha’s features. She inhaled slowly, processing the weight of it. And then, they shared a look—both terrified and thrilled—before Rio tugged her in for a slow, tender kiss, their first real acknowledgment that this went beyond attraction.
When they finally pulled apart, Agatha rested her forehead against Rio’s shoulder. “A batting cage,” she murmured, a hint of humor in her tone. “You took me to a batting cage.”
Rio laughed softly, arms circling Agatha’s waist. “Next time let’s bring Nicky.”
In the following weeks, the lines between friend, coach, and potential partner blurred in a warmer, more open way. Nicky didn’t know the full extent of their new relationship, but he picked up on the extra smiles, the gentle touches when Rio and Agatha thought he wasn’t looking.
They continued their usual practices where Nicky’s batting form improved and Rio’s Spanish lessons made him giggle. Afterward, though, the three of them had dinner together, or occasionally went out for ice cream. On quieter nights, Agatha and Rio curled up on the sofa with a glass of wine, talking until midnight and a half.
Still, doubts crept in. Agatha worried about letting Rio into Nicky’s life too deeply, in case it all fell apart. Rio wrestled with her own history of drifting away whenever things got intense. Yet each time doubt rose, they found reasons to stay.
When Nicky asked Rio for help on a school project, it felt natural for Rio to spend a Saturday afternoon scattered with glue sticks and cardboard cutouts. Agatha watched from the kitchen doorway, heart swelling at the sight of her son beaming whenever Rio gave praise.
Agatha set down the dish she was washing and joined them at the table, silently thinking: Is this it? Is this how family forms—not in one grand moment, but in a series of small ones?
Rio caught her eye, smiling softly. Agatha felt a rush of gratitude for this messy, wonderful reality. That night, as they lay side by side on Agatha’s couch, exhaustion weighing on both, Rio confessed in a murmur, “I want this. You. Him. Even if it means settling down more than I ever have before.”
Agatha’s response was a gentle kiss and the whispered promise, “I’m scared, too. But I’m in.”
Eventually, Rio moved into the spare room “temporarily,” but no one bought that label for long. Nicky clung to her at bedtime, asking for Spanish lullabies or quick pep talks before important Little League games. She fit into their routine so seamlessly, it felt like she’d always been there.
One Sunday morning, Nicky bounded into the kitchen, hair disheveled, wearing his tiny baseball pajama set. Rio was frying eggs while Agatha skimmed the newspaper. She was old-fashioned that way. Without pausing, Nicky tugged on Rio’s shirt, blurting out, “Mami, can I have mine scrambled?”
Rio’s hand froze on the spatula. Agatha’s eyes shot up, breath caught in her throat. For a moment, Nicky didn’t realize the significance and he just thought he’d asked a question. But when Rio turned, her expression conflicted and tender all at once, he flushed.
“I—I mean, Rio,” he stammered, as if afraid he’d done something wrong.
Rio breathed out, heart hammering. “No, it’s okay.” She crouched down, meeting Nicky’s gaze. “If that’s what you want to call me… I’d be honored.”
Nicky’s shoulders eased, a shy smile tugging at his lips. “Okay, Mami.”
Agatha stood by, tears pricking her eyes. She reached over, resting a hand on Rio’s back, silently conveying that she was on board. This wasn’t a trivial word; it was a quiet vow that their family bond had become something real, something they all wanted to keep.
2087
germansingergirl
jbbartram-illu
titsay
janainaart
