summary: you sleep with one witch without killing her and suddenly your girlfriend has the time to hunt you down. Go figure.
Or, Agatha wants Rio’s attention and now she has it. Quick and dirty style.
tags: top!Rio, brief power!bottom Agatha, they are switches after all, fingering (both receiving), knife play, no blood description, biting, thorny vine restraints, possessive Rio, little shit Agatha
Words: 1,576
masterlist | ao3
authors note: this is early-ish in their relationship. Before Nicky but when Agatha is already well into her serial killer phase.
“Oh, Agatha~” Rio sings.
Her voice comes from all directions. Running from the original green witch in a centuries old forest isn’t the best idea but Agatha is quite literally out of options.
A branch rustles but there’s a suspicious shadow in its opposite direction. Agatha aims slightly for the left of the branch and finds herself sliding into a ditch. Her muffling spell deadens the sound of snapping twigs and sliding leaves. She resists the urge to cast an illusion over her little dip in the ground. Not only would it not work on Death but it would be a dead give away to her. There’s leaves sticking to her face, roots poking her ribs and something sharp grazing her ankle but she doesn’t risk moving.
Leaves crunching in a steady pattern give away footsteps.
“Agatha~” Rio sings out again, a dark edge to her voice Agatha hasn’t heard in a long time. A warning that she’s toeing the line, and not one of the fun ones they like to draw for each other.
Two steps closer and Agatha can see the edge of Rio’s silhouette. Her hand twitches but she doesn’t take the bait. They’ve been playing this game long enough for her to know better.
Her restraint doesn’t matter. Rio already knows where she is. Shrubs grab at her and propel her into Death’s waiting arms.
“Got you,” Rio says with a cheeky grin before slamming her against a tree. Agatha tries to grapple with her but her breath has been forced out of her. Rio has her pinned within a second. “Someone’s been naughty,” she says.
“Can a girl not spend a night curing her loneliness?”
“You know the rules. That is not how you get my attention.” Rio’s pulls her knife out and pokes into the soft flesh under Agatha’s chin.
“You’re here now, aren’t you?” Agatha says.
“Don’t tell me you’re being the jealous one, Agatha. You can summon me whenever you like,” Rio says as she trails the knife down Agatha’s throat.
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but the area’s a little bare of witches at the moment.”
“And yet you still managed to find one to bed,” Rio’s smile edges more towards a snarl.
“A green one too,” Agatha smiles as Rio’s snarl stretches further. “I knew that would get under your skin.”
“Oh, Agatha,” Rio knife digs in, “We both know the only thing under my skin is you.”
“Prove it,” Agatha snarls back. She goes for the knife but Rio digs it in deeper.
“Careful, sweetheart, you know what happens when my claws come out,” she slides her knife lightly along Agatha’s neck. Just enough to make a thin, red cut.
“They’re not out already?” Agatha asks. “Was me fucking another woman not enough?”
Rio growls and throws Agatha to the ground face first. Agatha doesn’t get a chance to push herself back up. Rio jumps on top of her and she narrowly avoids slamming her chin into the ground. She expects at least a few more verbal jabs but Rio’s been pushed past her limit. She forces herself between Agatha’s legs, keeping her down with a hand pressing her head into the dirt, and tears off Agatha’s pants. Half a second later and she’s forcing three fingers into Agatha’s soaked cunt. They moan together.
It only takes three harsh thrusts for Agatha to stop being disappointed that the game is over so quickly. She pushes back onto Rio’s fingers and Rio’s grip tightens in her hair.
“If you’re so desperate then come,” she demands with a snarl.
They’ve only just started yet Rio curls her fingers and Agatha finds herself right on the edge. Rio leans down and sinks her sharp teeth into the vulnerable skin on her neck and Agatha comes with a muffled scream.
Rio removes her teeth and laughs against Agatha’s skin.
“She must’ve been bad if that’s all it took,” she says.
“Who?” Agatha murmurs through her post-orgasm haze. Rio laughs again. She ignores Agatha’s whine as she gently pulls out and turns her over. She settles on Agatha’s hips.
“Who owns you, Agatha?” she murmurs as she runs her wet fingers down Agatha’s throat, enjoying the way Agatha basks in the attention. One corner of Agatha’s mouth twitches up.
“That witch,” she says. Rio’s fingers close around her throat. She doesn’t break eye contact.
“You don’t even remember her name.”
“I never even knew it,” Agatha says with that same teasing smile.
What should cancel out her previous statement makes it burn hotter by the way she says it. Thorny vines shoot out to wrap around her wrists and ankles.
“I could just leave you here,” Rio threatens.
“You won’t,” Agatha says with such certainty it infuriates Rio.
Another vine caresses Agatha’s throat before wrapping around it. She’s right. Rio has gone too long without her to leave her so soon. That doesn’t mean she has to satisfy her.
Rio begins grinding down and Agatha watches her with that same lazy smirk.
“Don’t get too cocky, Agatha. I’m going use you to come and then leave you here wanting.”
“Just like that other green witch did?”
Rio gnashes her teeth together. She resists the urge to sink them into Agatha again. Her anger will create too much force and she’ll break something.
Instead, Rio leans down, never faltering in her rhythm, to breathe the same air as her love. She watches as Agatha drinks in every inch of her expression as she gets closer and closer. That cocky look turns into desire which then turns into pure want as Rio nears the edge. Rio’s eyes flutter close and she leans that little bit closer so her lips brush Agatha’s. Agatha tries to close the gap but the thorns cutting into her skin keep her still. Rio moans into her mouth.
A needy sound leaving her has Agatha squirming but it’s too late. Rio shudders on top of her and comes before Agatha gets a chance to fully enjoy it.
The desperate eyes that greet Rio are almost as sweet as her orgasm. She gently runs her fingers over Agatha’s cheek before gripping her face tightly.
“Don’t ever do that again,” she growls, her eyes creeping towards their other-worldly purple glow.
Or what? Agatha wants to say but Rio’s grip is too tight. The challenge is still clear on her face and Rio’s nails lengthen to dig into her skin.
“You are mine, Agatha Harkness,” Rio hisses. “I can make you wish you were dead as much as I can make you feel alive.”
There’s a much darker note under Rio’s voice than Agatha is used to. Her challenging look turns wary. She doubts this game will ever stop being fun but that doesn’t mean nastier moments can’t sneak through. She doesn’t want Rio to doubt her devotion. That would be more dangerous than anything she’s attempted before.
“I claim you, Rio Vidal, Death, The First Green Witch,” Agatha declares. Rio’s eyes widen a fraction. “You are mine as I am yours, until the end of time.”
The words carry a hint of magic and Rio’s snarl slides off her face.
“I am yours as you are mine,” Rio breathes with the same amount of devotion. A hint of desperation hidden by Rio sealing the vow with a kiss. Soft at first but quickly devolving into their usual hunger.
Rio removes the vine keeping Agatha’s neck pinned, so she doesn’t have to break the kiss as she rises slightly on her knees and slips her fingers back inside of Agatha. Agatha moans into her mouth and Rio swallows it eagerly. She wants to devour her, merge their bodies and bind their souls as one. For now she settles for chasing Agatha across the continent and pulling every lick of pleasure she can from her.
Agatha’s magic snaps the rest of vines holding her down, thorns slicing her as she reaches for Rio. Her hands find the back of Rio’s neck and the bodice of her dress. Rio’s less punishing thrusts allow her room to guide the kiss. Her hand moves from Rio’s bodice to the skirts of her dress and tugs them up until she can get it under. She gives Rio the same treatment she’s receiving and slips three fingers into her heat, quickly matching her rhythm. Fingers curl, thumbs find clits, teeth scrape over skin and tongues dips into mouths. They become one moaning, writhing mess as they both reach their peaks before collapsing into each other.
Panting slightly, Agatha gently moves hair out of Rio’s face. She’s wearing that look that means she wants to consume Agatha but her eyes are flashing violet in the way that means too many bodies are calling. The strain of ignoring it is apparent on her face.
“Go do your job, Death,” Agatha releases her. “But don’t be so long this time, hmm?”
“You won’t leave the next one alive,” Rio says firmly.
“There are other ways to torture you, my love,” Agatha says softly, like it’s a sweet promise. Rio’s eyes flash a deeper purple, no death magic lightening them.
“I shall return soon,” she promises.
Soon to death can be very different to life but Agatha accepts the promise with a kiss.
“Te veo,” Rio whispers against her lips before getting up and fading back into the dark.
Agatha lies there for a along while, getting her breath back.
Agatha and Rio go to costume night at the bar Witches Road. They also have sex.
~~~
"Are you ready yet?" Agatha hangs on to the door frame, leaning as far into the bedroom she can get without actually stepping in. "We're going to be late."
"Be patient," Rio's voice echoes from its location in the bathroom. "And get out of my room. I told you to wait on the couch."
"I'm not in your room," she shouts back. "Christ, makes a whole big deal about how I gotta get here early and she's still getting dressed." She mumbles this part under her breath, because as annoyed as she is right now, she does not want to go through that lecture again.
She swings by the kitchen on the way to the couch and grabs a beer before sinking into the couch with a sigh.
The Witches Road was having their costume night and Rio insisted on Agatha coming over and getting ready at her place. It was a stupid idea, considering that Rio's place was further from the bar than Agatha's, but Rio insisted.
Agatha adjusts her costume, 'costume' being the plastic teeth that she had in her mouth. She was going as a vampire. Easiest costume ever. All she had to do was to put fangs in. Agatha smirks into her drink. She has the best ideas.
"Rio," Agatha calls. "Jen's texting asking where we are. What's taking so long?"
"Alright, alright. I'm ready." Rio steps out. "How do I look?"Agatha freezes, bottle half way through her mouth. How does she look?
Agatha's eyes rake over Rio's body. Her curled hair, her shadowed eyes, the black lipstick. The way the corset of her dress pushes her chest up and the way the red bleeds through the black lace. She looks as the dress hugs her tight in all the right places and flares out, loose and flowy, where it needs to.
"Sneakers?" She says, pretending like she didn't just get caught ogling with her mouth open.
Rio smirks, but mercifully does not comment on it. "Heels aren't good for dancing," she says.
Agatha hums. "What are you even supposed to be?"
Rio steps forward, and Agatha spreads her legs allowing the other woman to stand between them. "Well since you're a vampire," Rio leans in, giving Agatha an excellent view of her cleavage. "I figured I'd be the innocent maiden you try to turn."
Her hands bracket Agatha's head trapping her on the couch. Agatha tips her head back keeping eye contact. She definitely does not note that Rio isn't wearing a bra.
Agatha's tongue darts out to lick her lips. "Aren't vampires supposed to go after virgins?"
"Some do." Rio gets on the couch, her knee slotting perfectly in the space between Agatha's legs. Agatha's hands fly up to grab Rio's hips, a groan leaving her mouth. "But my blood is special. You wouldn't be able to resist it."
"Wouldn't I?" Her voice comes out as a rasp.
Rio shakes her head. "You'd do anything to get a taste." Her knee presses harder into Agatha's clit. "Big bad vampire on her knees for me."
"Fuck, Rio."
"Would you do anything for me?"
"Anything," Agatha breathes.
"Well then—." A phone buzzes and they freeze. "Uber's here," Rio chirps. She gets off the couch and grabs her bag, and Agatha can only stare slack jawed as she walks away, like they weren't just rutting like teenagers on the couch.
"Hurry up," Rio tosses a teasing smile. "Don't want to be late."
"Yeah, yeah," Agatha grumbles. She winces as she stands, finishing her drink and leaving the empty bottle on the table.
Her pants are sticky.
~~~
"Chicken tenders?" Agatha raises an eye at the large basket that sat in the middle of the table. "What are you five?"
Rio sticks out her tongue and grabs the drinks from Agatha's hands. "Sorry that not all of us can survive on alcohol and cigarettes."
Agatha flashes her fangs. "Tonight I'm surviving off of the alcoholic blood of virgins tonight."
A chorus of jeers and a french fry are thrown her way. "Oh my god that's disgusting." "You suck." "I can't believe you're such a fucking loser."
"You didn't even dress up," Jen says. She takes a sip of her drink, some fruity cocktail that Agatha knows from experience contains more alcohol than juice, and waves a hand at Agatha's costume. "You're wearing your normal clothes."
"And my normal clothes make me an incredibly hot vampire," Agatha brags. "You're just jealous because you're stuck going home with miss terminator over here." She jerks her thumb over at Alice who grins and pulls Jen onto her lap. "And why am I getting singled out for not trying. She's literally wearing her police uniform."
"Hey first of all, I'm T-1000. And second, don't discount my bullet holes. I worked hard on those." Alice fingers the crumpled foil she pinned to the front of her uniform. "And please. We all know you're going to go home with Rio anyways."
"You two should just grow up and start dating each other."It's the same conversation, same song and dance that always comes up when their schedules manage to align. Agatha knows what to say, what she should say, but for some reason her brain short circuits. "I– I don't.. We're not–," she stutters.
"We're just friends." Rio cuts her off.
She looks over at Rio. There's a slight frown on her face as she picks at her food dipping fries halfheartedly in mustard. Agatha opens her mouth to say something, anything, but the moment passes and the conversation moves on.
~~~
Agatha doesn't quite recall how she got onto the dance floor. Hours had passed. The bar had turned into a club and the party was in full swing. Lights pulsed, sweaty bodies pressed in around her, and the bass from the music reverberated through her bones.
The songs playing were older. She remembered them from her time she'd spent at clubs when she was younger. Recession pop they call it now. She's got a drink in her hand, Jen's probably, on the account of it tasting like straight vodka.
She's got a girl in front of her. She's pretty, from what she can tell. The girl has short brown hair and is wearing an even shorter mini skirt. Agatha holds on to her hip as they dance. She thinks that if she plays her cards right she could probably go home with this girl. She presses up against the other woman, formulating a plan. She's got a couple of foolproof pickup lines in her repertoire.
She leans forward to say something when the collar of her shirt grows tight. An embarrassingly high squeak comes from her mouth before her back collides with a body and an arm wraps around her chest.
The girl she was dancing with turns around, anger sparking in her eyes. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" she shouts. Her eyes are focused above Agatha's head.
"I could ask you the same thing."
Agatha looks up and has to suppress a smile. Rio is not happy. Her brow is pinched and her lips are pursed and she stares the woman down. Agatha sinks into Rio's hold.
"Find your own girl to dance with." She reaches out and her fingers brush Agatha's sleeve, but Rio steps back.
She tightens her hold. "You should leave."
The woman falters before shifting to address Agatha. "Are you really going to let her do this?"
Agatha shrugs, a guilty look on her face. She would.
"What a bitch," Rio mutters when she walks away.
"Ya know," Agatha says, maneuvering them so that she's the one behind Rio. "You could've just asked."
"I know."
~~~
Agatha holds Rio close. It's taking all of her effort not to as the other grinds against her. Instead she sways to the beat letting the music do what her buzzed mind can't.
Sweat is glistening on both their bodies, and Agatha rests her chin on Rio's shoulder. "Would you let me?" she whispers. "If I were actually a vampire."
Rio leans back. "Let you do what?"
"Bite you." Agatha grazes Rio's neck with her teeth, tasting the salt on her skin. A quiet whimper falls from Rio's mouth. Her hand snakes around Rio's waist and she pulls her close. "I bet you'd taste really good."
Agatha thrusts her hips into Rio to make a point, and she wishes, not for the first time, that she had worn her packer tonight. She rolls her palm into Rio, pressing the fabric of her dress in between her legs. Rio would feel it, she's sure, if she positioned it right. And she'd feel it too. Feel how it would rub against her clit when Rio grinds back on it.
Rio grabs her arm, nails digging into the skin. "Stop."
Agatha freezes. A rush of heat floods through her body and she realizes she was practically dry humping Rio in the middle of the dance floor. Not practically. She was.
"Fuck. Rio I'm sorry. I–." She stumbles as Rio pulls her away.
"Let's go."
~~~
They bypass their original booth and end up in a corner at the back of the bar. The lights are broken, some flickering, others off entirely. It's the publicly known, but also publicly ignored section of the bar.
Rio slides in a miraculously empty booth. Agatha makes to go in after but is stopped by Rio's hand pressing into her chest. She raises an eyebrow questioningly.
Rio points at the floor. "Down."
Agatha glances around. It doesn't look like anyone is paying attention to them, but still. She's no stranger to kinky stuff, and her and Rio have had their fair share of risky trysts over the years, but this wasn't a bathroom stall or river by the woods. This was public.
Rio steps up and pulls her into a kiss, and Agatha melts into it. It's sloppy. It's their first kiss all night. They're both drunk, and horny and Agatha had never been the neatest kisser to begin with. Rio breaks their kiss, and Agatha chases, nipping at her skin, trying to get more.
She feels Rio's hands thread through her hair, holding her back. Rio stares at her, and Agatha knows that her want and desperation is probably written all over her face. But Rio's isn't unaffected either. Rio's face is flushed, lips plump, and her eyes are full of desire as she looks down at her. "You'll be under the table. No one will see." Rio whispers against her mouth. "You wanted to taste me right?"
Agatha nods numbly.
"Then be a good girl and go down."
Rio reaches out and places her hand on Agatha's shoulder, and she sinks to her knees. The floor isn't clean. Dirt, crumbs, and spilled alcohol litter the ground, but she ignores it, eyes focused only on Rio. She crawls forward, as Rio backs into the booth, and she keeps crawling until she's fully under the table.
Agatha crawls until she's right in front of Rio, and then she sits, resting her head on the other woman's thigh. She'd be fired, or at least written up, if anyone caught her like this, and that thought alone is enough to make her realize the risk of the situation, but before she can do anything a hand shoots out and grabs her hair.
Rio spreads her legs, hiking her dress up. She tugs on Agatha's hair, and Agatha moans, eyes fluttering as Rio guides her head up and closer to her goal. Rio is turned on. She can already tell. The musky scent of Rio's arousal invades her senses and Agatha surges forward nuzzling at the thin barrier of fabric that separates her from Rio.
Agatha mouths at Rio's cunt drawing a moan from the other woman. She can taste the salt and sweat from Rio's skin mixed in with the slight tang of Rio's slick. She presses in further, nose rubbing against Rio's clit.
Rio moans. It's loud, louder than the music playing in the club and Agatha's cunt clenches at the sound. It's not enough. She wants… no she needs more. She reaches up, nails scratching against Rio's thighs but Rio slaps them away. "No hands."
Agatha places her hands on either side of Rio and grabs the edge of Rio's underwear with her teeth. They're soaked, a lot from Rio's arousal, but Agatha knows that most is from her own spit.
Rio lifts her hips. "Take them off."
Agatha pulls. She drags them over Rio's thighs and down her legs until they drop and pool at her ankles. She licks a line up Rio's leg, chasing the taste of her juices until she arrives at the source.
Her mouth waters. Normally she'd wait, take her time to fully admire and appreciate the body before her, but she's impatient. She dives back in tongue immediately sinking into Rio's pussy. She laps like a dog starved, gathering up all Rio's accumulated arousal on her tongue.
"How do I taste baby?" Rio pants. Agatha moans and digs in with more fervor.
She tastes like heaven.
Agatha continues to lick, dipping her tongue into the other woman. Rio's moans are soft, barely audible over the music, but her hips buck and with each pass of her tongue more wetness spills out.
Agatha can feel herself getting wet, and she resists the urge to reach down and touch herself. Instead she focuses her attention upward. She takes Rio's clit in her mouth and sucks.
Rio's nails scratch her scalp, and Agatha knows that Rio's close. She redoubles her efforts alternating between sucking her clit and tonguing her cunt until finally Rio comes with a shout. Agatha tries to push away, because there is no way nobody heard that but Rio holds her close. She grinds her hips into Agatha's face, slick gushing out with each hump as she rides out her orgasm. "You're mine," she grunts. "You understand?"
Agatha nods as much as she's able to.
She's hers.
~~~
"Oh there you are."
Agatha stiffens. Alice. She tries to get up but a hand on her head shoves her back down.
"Where's Agatha?"
She never did actually move after getting Rio off, even though she was desperately horny herself. She stayed on the floor, face sticky with Rio's juices, leaning against her leg. Rio herself had been content to sit there, hand absentmindedly stroking her hair.
"Don't know," Rio says. The grip on her hair tightens. A warning. "Think she went out back for a smoke."
"Oh." She moves closer, and Agatha can see her boots come into view.
"You want to sit down?" Rio asks. Agatha eyes the area warily. The booth isn't large, and while it may fit Alice if she decides to sit down, there isn't enough space under the table if Jen decides to join.
She tries to move, push herself close to the wall, but Rio holds on tight. Agatha grabs onto her arm and works at prying her fingers off, cuz fuck her if she gets caught like this.
"I'm pretty sure our other table has already been claimed." She shifts and Agatha freezes. Rio's foot presses into her cunt, and she moves it slowly.
"Nah Jen and I were gonna head out. Figured I let you know."
"Where is Jen?" Rio asks. Her foot moves in the same circular motion, providing steady pressure. Agatha bites her lip, trying to suppress the whine coming out of her throat.
"Bathroom," Alice leans against the table. "Or the bar. She said two drinks ago she was done for the night."
Agatha drops her head down and clutches Rio's leg. Her hips are moving now, pressing her core on the top of Rio's foot. She wants to stop, she should stop, but she can't. The conversation continues on above her, Rio and Alice talking about something. She doesn't care.
A tendril of guilt curls in her chest with each rush of slick that spills into her underwear. She's on the floor of a seedy bar rutting like a dog onto her friend's shoe after eating her out. It's fucking embarrassing, demeaning, and yet…
It comes as a surprise. Her hips stutter, and she bites, her fake canines pinching into Rio's leg. The pain in her head is sharp as Rio yanks her up by her hair.
A face comes into view. "Did you just fucking come?"
Agatha flushes and pushes away, falling back when Rio lets go of her hair. "Fuck off." It sounds much less dignified when her hips are still rocking, riding out the rest of her orgasm.
Rio laughs. "I barely even touched you."
"I said shut up," she growls. She crawls out from under the table. She pulls at her crotch, wincing at the feeling of the wet fabric. She jumps and swats at Rio's hand as the other reaches out to feel.
"Holy shit you're soaked." Rio says, then with a grin. "Did that turn you on that much?"
"No." Yes. She's not going to think about it.
"Which part?" Rio hums. "Was it rutting against my foot like a puppy in heat or the fact Alice was right there and could find you anytime."
Agatha clenches the hem of her shirt. "None of it."
Rio stands and stretches looking way more put together for someone who had just been eaten out. "If you say so." She pulls Agatha in for a kiss before pushing her away. "Te veo."
What do you mean it's not AAA Week? @agathaallalongweek
Posting this little draft of the Day 5 prompts in hopes that it gets me off my ass to finish it, as well as give me some inspo in how to finish it lol.
The prompt is "Rio gets Injured", and this is more the aftermath of her mysterious workplace caused injury. Agatha is pretty broken up about what happened, while Rio is pretty chill cuz "it's all in a days work."
Without further ado
~~~
They've been in this position for what feels like hours. Rio, stretched out on the couch. Agatha, kneeling before her like a sinner before the altar.
Her knees hurt. The floor is hard and unforgiving, and Agatha wants to shift, to move, but she doesn't. She keeps her head bowed, hands clasped in front of her, grasping Rio's shirt, face pressed into Rio's side.
Rio's hand is on her head. Her fingers brush through her hair, nails scratching lightly at her scalp. It's a soothing repetitive motion. The TV is on in the background. The sounds of David, Attenborough or Tennant, she does not know, narrating the movements of migratory birds wash over her. She ignores it, instead focusing on Rio.
She focuses on the way her shirt feels in her hands, rough and worn with love and care. The way her skin smells, earthy with the hint of hospital antiseptic. The way her breath sounds, soft and slightly labored.
She presses her face closer, because she needs to be closer, and Rio's breath hitches and her hand tightens, pulling sharply at her hair.
"The chief called." Rio's voice is low and gravelly. It breaks through the silence of the room like a gunshot. "Said you were causing trouble. Punched a suspect."
Agatha doesn't move, doesn't look up, doesn't face Rio. She gives a half shrug and lets out a grunt of acknowledgment. Acknowledgement of what? She does not know.
Rio sighs. "You can't be goin' around doing that. You're lucky he just sent you home." She resumes stroking her hair, fingers carefully navigating tangles. Too soft. Too kind.
"You almost died," Agatha mumbles. She rocks, head pushing into Rio's hand. "You almost died."
"I didn't though," Rio says. "I didn't die. I didn't even come close.""But I didn't know that," Agatha says, begs, trying to get her to understand. "I didn't know that, and I should've known and I should've been there and you shouldn't have had to make that choice and—," her voice cracks.
Rio takes risks. Rio always takes risks. She knows this. And sure, it's like the pot calling the kettle black 'cause she also takes risks—sometimes even dumber ones than Rio—but it's different because it's Rio and— and—.
And there's a pain at the base of her skull.
"Look at me." Rio is pulling at her hair, fingers entangled in her strands, and Agatha tilts her head back, a whine escaping her throat. "This is not your fault."
"But—," and Rio's other hand comes forward, grasping her chin, cutting her off.
"This is not your fault," she says. Her thumb comes and presses lightly against Agatha's lips, and Agatha opens her mouth accepting them inside. "There's nothing you could have done."
So I just found out that AAA winterfest was a thing, so in typical winterfest fashion I had to bang out a prompt after work.
Playing real fast and loose with prompt fulfillment, but this takes place in the detective au fic and it is "techincially" Agatha's and Rio's first christmas together. Be warned of smut
AO3 LINK Collection link
Day 1
Just Friends Winterfest 1
Summary: It's Agatha and Rios first christmas together.... kind of
Or
Rio fucks Agatha in the back of the precinct
~~~
Agatha leans back in her chair with a groan. The desks around her empty, everyone else having had the good sense to go home Christmas Eve. Not her. She was stuck at her desk reviewing, she squints at the paper in front of her, garden gnome theft? She tosses the paper back on her desk.
A waste of time is what it is. She considers, briefly, heading over to the break room, where she knows the other unlucky night shifters, rookies and people who pissed off their supervisor, would be. Someone brought in cookies earlier today and Johnson brought his "non alcoholic" eggnog. Convinced the chief it was fine 'cause it was a Martha Stewart recipe.
Sneaking a mug of that eggnog sounds appealing, but that would also mean talking to other people, and then answering the inevitable question, "Why are you here?" Because now that she's a detective she doesn't need to pull these weird hours, unless she's on a case. And she's not on a case.There really isn't any reason for her to be here.
But here is not home, and there's nothing waiting for her at home.
She pulls the garden gnome file back towards her.
Holidays were stupid anyways.
~~~
She's dosing when she feels a tingle at the back of her neck. A sense of unease washes over her and she cracks her eye open to survey the bullpen. There's a figure walking towards her, weaving through the desks with ease. Agatha scowls and closes her eyes.
The person sits on the edge of her desk, heedless of the papers scattered across it. Agatha keeps her eyes closed. Maybe they'll take a hint.
"What are you still doing here?"
Maybe they won't.
Agatha sighs and opens her eyes. Special Agent Rio Vidal sits before her, half smile on her face. She's not in her work clothes, not in the clean pressed suit and slick neat bun. Instead her hair is down, and she's in jeans and a soft cable knit sweater. Agatha resists the urge to straighten her own clothes. No amount of fixing would make her worn out jeans and wrinkled flannel reach the effortless put-togetherness that Rio exudes.
"Shouldn't you be on a train?" Agatha ignores the other woman's question. "Our case is over with."
"It got cancelled," she says with a shrug. "Too much snow on the tracks."
Agatha watches as Rio's eyes track the different papers and folders on her desk. There's a furrow between her brows. It's hardly noticeable, but it's always there when she's putting together pieces of a puzzle. Agatha fidgets, knee bouncing. She wonder's what Rio sees.
"These aren't active cases." She picks up one of the papers. "They aren't even assigned to you."
"Just felt like helping out is all," Agatha mumbles. She snatches the paper away from Rio, but she can tell the other woman is not satisfied. She can feel her gaze piercing into her soul while she tries to read over the case.
"You're all alone this Christmas aren't you." Rio says it in a sing songy voice, but it does nothing to dull the ache she feels inside. "No friends?" Agatha tenses. "No family?"
"Shut up." It comes out as a whisper.
"All alone in that big old house."
"Stop."
Rio hums, ignoring her. "What about your mother? Those church types sure do love Christmas Eve. I bet she would love to see her only daughter visit. You know, if her daughter wasn't a—."
"Fucking drop it," Agatha shouts. A head pops up from across the room and Agatha quickly lowers her voice. The damage was already done though. There is a self satisfied smirk on Rio's face as she looks down at her, and Agatha curses herself for falling for the bait.
Thought it isn't really her fault. Rio knows. And Rio knows better too. Agatha growls and stands up, chair rolling back to hit the desk behind her. She brushes past Rio roughly. "I'm going for a smoke."
"You're forgetting your coat," Rio calls out.
Agatha flips her middle finger not bothering to look back. She doesn't need a fucking coat.
~~~
She should've brought a fucking coat. It's snowing. Fat flakes fall from the sky covering the ground. She's huddled up by the door, the small alcove doing nothing to protect her from the cold. Technically speaking, she's not supposed to be smoking right next to the door, but technically speaking whoever made that law can go fuck themselves.
Her hands are shoved in her pockets while the cigarette dangles from her lips. The wind blows and cuts right through all of her one layer of clothing. Her thoughts drift, as it often seemed to do, towards Rio. It's reasonable this time, because she's the entire fucking reason she's out here. A dozen different responses of what she could've said to Rio but didn't flit through her head as she thinks over their conversation.
"What a fucking asshole," she grumbles, and then watches as the cigarette falls out of her mouth and into the snow below. "FUCK!"
~~~
Agatha takes her time walking back to her desk. The snow that had accumulated on her in her brief foray outside has melted and now instead of just cold, she's also wet. She thinks she might have a spear shirt in her desk, and would love to change into it, but she's also hesitant about seeing Rio again. Instead she loiters in the break room.
The cookies are gone, multicolored sprinkles on the countertop the only evidence that they were ever there. The eggnog is still there. It's in a crockpot, and Agatha eyes it warily. There's a weird skin on the top, and a mug lying sideways in it. It's red and green and Agatha carefully picks it up bringing with it a half of cup of the creamy liquid.
She pours it in to another cup, because she has standards, takes a sip, and gags. It's fucking disgusting. But it's got enough alcohol to quiet her thoughts, and it warms her up in more ways than one so she keeps drinking. She takes the cup and sinks down on the couch that sits at the back of the room.
~~~
She's got a pleasant buzz going. The mug is held loosely in her hands and her eyes are closed and she just breathes. She had already made one trip back to the eggnog, ignoring the slimy bits, because Johnson was focused more on the ABV instead of actually creating a palatable drink. The chief would probably be mad that she's drinking on the job, but the chief also never comes on Christmas Day so she thinks she clear.
Footsteps enter the room.
Agatha sighs. "Rio I swear to god—,"
"Oh there you are?"
Agatha cracks an eye open. Not Rio stands before her.
The cops some mousy Asian girl that just transferred over looks at her with a board expression on her face. Her hands are tucked into her vest and she raises an eyebrow at Agatha's mostly empty mug. "You're wanted in conference room Z," she says.
Agatha frowns. Conference room Z isn't really a conference room. It's just a glorified storage closet they found that someone put a card table in and someone else taped a printed sign to.
"What?"
"Dunno?" The cop shrugs and starts walking away. "Was just told to tell you that you were supposed to go to conference room Z."
Agatha has an inkling of who would be waiting for her there. If she was smart, she'd ignore the request and go back to her desk, or better yet go home. But unfortunately she has had just enough to drink to start the trek down the halls to the allusive conference room Z.
She opens the door harder than necessary, leaning against the door to see Rio sitting at the table, legs kicked up to rest on top of it. Rio's looks her up her down before pushing back from the table, planting her feet on the ground.
"Come here," she beckons, and Agatha does.
Agatha walks until she's standing between Rio's spread legs. Rio's hands come up to grasp her hips, and she looks up at her.
"Hi," Rio says, tongue poking out her mouth.
"Hi," Agatha says back, because know that she's standing there, she can't help but notice how brown Rio's eyes are. Has it always been that brown? Has she always looked that good?
Rio's hand sneaks up the front of her shirt and fists her collar pulling her down for a kiss. Agatha sinks into it, eyes fluttering closed as she leans into Rio. A whimper leaves her throat when Rio pulls back.
"You've been drinking?" Rio asks.
"Just a little." Agatha tries to push forward for another kiss but Rio holds her back.
"And on the job? Santa's not going to like that."
Agatha sits down on the other woman straddling her legs. "Santa Claus can go fuck himself." She grabs Rio's face with both hands and presses forward to try and steal another kiss. This time Rio lets her.
It feels like forever and also no time at all when Rio stands. Agatha squeaks, legs instinctively wrapping around the other woman. The room spins and she squeezes her eyes shut. "Rio, what the fuck?" she slurs.
She is just as quickly deposited on the small card table, and she's pushed down to lie on her back. Agatha stares at the ceiling trying to regain her bearings.
"You know how long I've been waiting for you?" Rio asks.
Her voice is low and her fingers are deftly undoing the buttons of Agatha's shirt. Agatha lays their motionless as Rio's hand ghosts across the bare skin of her stomach before pushing under the fabric of her sports bra. She bites her lips and stifles a moan as she grabs a handful of her flesh.
"Answer me." Rio pinches a nipple, and Agatha's back arches, a whine coming from her throat.
Agatha tries to focus but all she can feel is Rio's hands. They alternate between groping and kneading her breasts, and pinching and rolling her nipples. "Dunno," she manages to squeeze out.
Agatha's usually not this sensitive, and while alcohol does make her more horny than it usually does it doesn't usually have this effect. She feels like very sense has been dialed up to ten. Every breath, every touch, sends signals directly to her cunt. She can feel herself getting wet, slick dripping out of her.
You don't know?" Rio's voice is mocking, and she leans over licking a stripe up Agatha's stomach before latching on to her breast.
"Oh Fuck," Agatha shouts. Her hips try to buck, but Rio's on top of her holding her down. Her hands fly down to grab at Rio's head, but Rio quickly redirects them.
She pulls off of Agatha's chest, and the cold air surrounds her nipple. "Think I've got better use for that." She manipulates Agatha's hand, curling the fingers until there is two poking out. "Open your mouth baby," Rio says, and Agatha does, sucking in her own fingers.
"Good girl," Rio coos. "Don't want you getting too loud. Wouldn't want your coworkers finding you here. Moaning like a bitch in heat."
Agatha bites down on her fingers, the pain bringing the slightest bit of awareness to her situation. She's at work, technically on duty, and that door definitely does not lock. She tries to push herself up into a sitting position but Rio holds her down.
Rio's hand snakes down between their bodies teasing at the waist of her pants. "How wet do you think you'll." She cranes her head up to mouth at Agatha's neck. "I think you'll be soaked." Her hand slips into Agatha's jeans cupping lightly over her underwear. Agatha whines around her fingers, drool pooling in her mouth.
"You were always so desperate."
Rio doesn't move her hand. It rests there, gently cupping Agatha's mound and it is driving her insane. Agatha squirms underneath Rio, tries anything to get some friction where she needs it most. She's basically rutting into Rio's hand, but it does nothing.
"Rio," she gasps.
"Beg."
"Please, please, please." The shame has left her and the pleas leave her lips. Her hand has left her mouth and instead her spit covered digits hold on to her shirt. She's lying half naked on a shitty table in a glorified supply closet at her work. She's committed, at this point, to debasing herself. "Rio please touch me."
"Well since you asked so nicely." Her fingers move out of her pants and Agatha almost cries before they, along with her underwear are being pushed down to her knees. The plastic is cold beneath her butt, but Agatha can't find it in herself to care. Rio's fingers come up, tracing a path along her thigh, before finally coming to where she needs it most.
Yes, Agatha chants in her head, and also, apparently, out loud. Rio sinks in three fingers at once. There's no preparation, but there is no need because Agatha's soaked. She can feel it, and she can hear it. The squelch of Rio's fingers as they move inside her.
"Did you see how easily you took me." There's a hint of awe in Rio's voice. She twists her wrist drawing out a moan from Agatha. "You're such a fucking slut aren't you?"
"Yes," Agatha whines.
"You're my fucking slut."
"Yes. Yes. I'm yours." If she were sober would be embarrassed at the words falling out of her mouth. As it was, all she could think about was the cliff she was hurtling towards. If she were sober she'd also be embarrassed about that as well.
"Rio," she pants. Her breasts are bouncing and the table rocks from the force of Rio's thrusts. "I'm gonna come."
"No," Rio says sharply. "You can't." She speeds up the motion of her hand, and the other one comes down to rub at her clit.
Agatha feels like she's on fire. "I can't," she whimpers. She's tensing, trying to hold back. "Rio please. Please let me come."
"You want to be a good girl right?" Rio asks.
"Uh huh," she nods.
"Then you can hold out a little longer."
Agatha shakes her head. She can't. It's like her senses are in overdrive and suddenly everything is just too much. Her hand reaches blindly to grasp at the other woman. "Rio, I need… I need…" She doesn't know what she needs.
"Oh baby don't cry." Rio reaches up to touch her face, one hand cupping her cheek. Her hand is wet and sticky and Agatha clenches around nothing and she realizes that Rio stopped fucking her.
She feels devastated. "Rio please," she wails.
Rio adjusts herself so that her thigh is slotted between her legs. She presses up and Agatha bucks, groaning as her core rubs against denim. "Come on. Take what you need," she says, and Agatha does.
Her hips move on her own accord, rutting against Rio's leg in no discernible rhythm. Rio's speaking, random words of praise and degradation that go in one ear and out the other as she mindlessly seeks her pleasure.
"Come Agatha," Rio says.
And she does.
~~~
A bone seated weariness settles over her. She knows she must look a mess. She can feel the sweat dripping down her body, and her hair sticking to her face. Her legs dangle uselessly of the edge of the table, and she turns her head to look at Rio.
Rio's leaning against the door, legs crossed, looking not at all like she just fucked someone within an inch of the life. One hand rests on the doorknob, the other in her back pocket. She smiles, tongue poking out between her teeth.
I live in an alternate reality where AAA Week is still going on. This is the full story other Day 5 snippet I had posted earlier.
Fully reposted because apparently some tags just make your post disappear entirely
@agathaallalongweek
AO3 LINK
Day 1 Day 2 Day 3 Day 4 Day 5
This story contains no smut, but it does have some non sexual submission(i suspect this tag and kneeling got the og post done in). I apologize in advance for this fic being more Agatha focused lol
JUST FRIENDS 5
Summary:
Rio gets hurt, Agatha feels guilty, they work some things out.
~~~
They've been in this position for what feels like hours. Rio, stretched out on the couch. Agatha, kneeling before her like a sinner at the altar.
Her knees hurt. The floor is hard and unforgiving, and Agatha wants to shift, to move, but she doesn't. She keeps her head bowed, hands clasped in front of her, grasping Rio's shirt, face pressed into Rio's side.
Rio's hand is on her head. Her fingers brush through her hair, nails scratching lightly at her scalp. It's a soothing repetitive motion. The TV is on in the background. The sounds of David, Attenborough or Tennant, she does not know, narrating the movements of migratory birds wash over her. She ignores it, instead focusing on Rio.
She focuses on the way her shirt feels in her hands, rough and worn with love and care. The way her skin smells, earthy with the hint of hospital antiseptic. The way her breath sounds, soft and slightly labored.
She presses her face closer, because she needs to be closer, and Rio's breath hitches and her hand tightens, pulling sharply at her hair.
"The chief called." Rio's voice is low and gravelly. It breaks through the silence of the room like a gunshot. "Said you were causing trouble. Punched a suspect."
Agatha doesn't move, doesn't look up, doesn't face Rio. She gives a half shrug and lets out a grunt of acknowledgment. Acknowledgement of what? She does not know.
Rio sighs. "You can't be goin' around doing that. You're lucky he just sent you home." She resumes stroking her hair, fingers carefully navigating tangles. Too soft. Too kind.
"You almost died," Agatha mumbles. She rocks, head pushing into Rio's hand. "You almost died."
"I didn't though," Rio says. "I didn't die. I didn't even come close."
"But I didn't know that," Agatha says, begs, trying to get her to understand. "I didn't know that, and I should've known and I should've been there and you shouldn't have had to make that choice and—," her voice cracks.
Rio takes risks. Rio always takes risks. She knows this. And sure, it's like the pot calling the kettle black 'cause she also takes risks—sometimes even dumber ones than Rio—but it's different because it's Rio and— and—.
And there's a pain at the base of her skull.
"Look at me." Rio is pulling at her hair, fingers entangled in her strands, and Agatha tilts her head back, a whine escaping her throat. "This is not your fault."
"But—," and Rio's other hand comes forward, grasping her chin, cutting her off.
"This is not your fault," she says. Her thumb comes and presses lightly against Agatha's lips, and Agatha opens her mouth accepting it inside. "There's nothing you could have done."
And deep down Agatha knows that Rio is right. That it isn't her fault. That there was nothing she could do. That sometimes shit happens. That—.
"Get up."
Agatha startles, pulled out of her spiraling thoughts by the command. Rio is staring at her, a small frown on her face.
"I'm not going to ask again." Rio's thumb is still in her mouth, and she presses upwards, forcing Agatha to rise until her thumb slides out with a wet pop.
Agatha rocks. Her hands clench the hem of her shirt and she looks down at Rio on the couch. It's worse, standing, than it is kneeling. She can't avoid it, can't close her eyes and pretend nothing happened. She has to see. See the bruises on her face, the bandages on her arms, the boot on her foot.
Rio looks small.
Fragile.
Broken.
Snap.
Agatha blinks. Rio's hand is in front of her face. Her mouth is moving.
"—me the bag of rice."
Agatha tilts her head. Rio is staring at her expectantly and she knows she has to do something, she just doesn't know what.
Rio reaches up and Agatha leans forward. Rio grabs a lock of Agatha's hair and tugs sharply. "Stay focused." She lets go. "Go to the kitchen and bring me the bag of rice."
Agatha hesitates, because now she knows exactly what Rio wants to do.
Rio points towards the kitchen. "Get the rice or you can get out."
And that gets Agatha going, feet moving before she can think of any argument to delay the inevitable.
It's only when she makes it to the kitchen that Agatha slows down.
She can hear Rio moving around in the other room. The clack of her crutch, the scrape of the table.
Agatha desperately wants to turn around, to go back and help Rio with whatever she was trying to do, but she can't.
The bag of rice feels like a lead weight in her arms.
They never really talked about it, the thing that they sometimes do. She's sure there's a name for it. There's a name for everything.
Maybe it means her mom was right. There is something wrong with her. Normal people don't act that way, don't want the things she wants. But Rio doesn't seem to care.
She doesn't know what that means.
"Agatha come."
She steps across the threshold. The coffee table has been moved forward, the rug pushed out the way. Rio is standing, leaning heavily on her crutch. Agatha's fingers twitch. She wants to help her, tell her to sit down, assure her that she doesn't have to do anything.
Rio holds out her hand and Agatha places the bag of rice on it obediently. Rio is silent as she opens the bag and pours the rice on the ground.
It's an old school punishment. One her own mother favored when she was too lazy to choose a more traditional form of punishment.
Rio doesn't like it. Doesn't like the fact that Agatha defaults to a punishment that her mother used. But she does it anyway.
There's a notebook on the table. And a pen. And Rio's neat and blocky script at the top of the page.
That's also an old school punishment.
Rio doesn't like that either. Doesn't like the fact that Agatha will always use her right hand when copying lines. Because using your left hand is a sin. She has the scars to prove it.
Agatha takes off her pants, standing only in her boxers. Rio doesn't ask her to do it, but she knows the routine. She knows how it works. She folds them neatly and places them on the arm of the couch.
Rio sits, one leg stretched out in front of her, the other holding her crutch. "Those are the lines you're going to write," she says pointing at the notebook on the table. "You will kneel and you will write and you will not stop until I say you are done."
Agatha goes to the ground slowly. She kneels, the rice pressing into her knees. Her left hand goes behind her back, her right picks up the pen. She doesn't rest her butt on her heels, doesn't redistribute her weight. She has to hunch awkwardly to reach the table.
The rice digs into her skin. All her weight is on her knees, the pain magnified each time she moves. There is no way to get in a comfortable position, to relieve the pressure. She knows that by the end of this her knees will be raw and bruised. That is her penance.
Agatha brings the notebook closer to her. To write is to correct her wrongs.
I did nothing wrong. There was nothing I could do. It is not my fault.
Agatha looks back at Rio. This isn't right. She opens her mouth but Rio cuts her off.
"I choose what you write," Rio says sharply and Agatha flinches at the intensity of her words. She uses her crutch to tap the notebook on the table. "You're writing this."
Agatha turns back to the paper
I did nothing wrong. There was nothing I could do. It is not my fault.
She begins to write. The first sentence is torturous. This is not how it works. You aren't supposed to lie.
*I did nothing wrong. There was nothing I could do. It is not my fault. *
She focuses on her letters, making them as neat as possible. She writes in script. It's harder than print, she can't remember all the right shapes the letters make, but if Rio won't do things properly…
I did nothing wrong. There was nothing I could do. It is not my fault.
Her hand cramps, but she doesn't stop. She presses her knees further into the ground. The pain grounds her.
I did nothing wrong. There was noth—
Agatha stops mid sentence, pen awkwardly held in her hand. Her eyes trace the words on the page, and then she flips it to the previous one, and then the one before that. The sentences repeat themselves, over and over again all in the messy scrawl that comes from trying to write with her right hand.
There's a sharp pain at the back of her head, and Agatha lets herself be pulled backwards by her hair until she's sitting on the ground between Rio's legs. Rice sticks to her knees, some falling off, but she doesn't brush them away, not yet.
Rio is looking down at her. "You with me?"
Agatha doesn't respond, but Rio gives a tentative half smile, and her body relaxes, so she must have given something away. Rio repositions herself, pulling her leg up to lay back down on the couch. She drops a pillow down, and Agatha takes it, sitting cross legged on top of it.
"You done overthinking?" Rio says. One hand is behind her head, the other hangs off the couch lazily running through Agatha's hair.
"Shut up," Agatha grumbles, but a smile creeps on her face anyways.
She can't help but wonder, what did she do to get a friend like her?
