Pspsps
What if 39 & 45 of this one list👀
Pretty please?
Tip Jar 💰
39. “you can barely speak, so cute”
45. “what if i just leave you here, wet and needy?”
something something the horrors we cannot escape nor the power we may have wished we owned at a younger time in our lives when maybe that power, would have set us free something something
tw for internalized homophobia and of course the lingering ghost of evanora because hey I mean...will our girl ever get over that? nope
Images infiltrated Agnes' minds eye as she stared Vidal down as her shape lingered in the door frame. She looked a little different; younger and innocent. Her hair was pulled back but not in her usual messy bun with a clip to hold it up. Her clothes were a little different; maybe a little dated and not entirely appropriate for her age now. Agnes bit her lip as she shifted a little higher onto the bed, felt the wetness between her legs as it clung to her skin and made her underwear do the same. They were white with a little pink bow sewed right in the middle of the hemline. Another image that was wasn't right for her now but once was.
This idea had crossed her mind and then came back looping around. She thought she needed to go talk to someone, a professional. Truly, this meant there was something deeply wrong with her and her sanity. She questioned herself for weeks until she snuck off during lunch one day at work and went to a store just on the outskirts of Westview to buy what she needed to fulfill out her fantasy.
Vidal had no idea until they got home that evening from work and Agnes tossed the shopping bag onto the bed and left it there for Vidal to go through as she left to shower. Vidal did go through the bag and found clothes that suited neither of them; outfits that weren't their way of dressing. A white cotton underwear set that was juvenile in a way and was Agnes' size. Vidal had an inkling of an idea but wasn't exactly sure; a nagging, gnawing thought blooming in her head as she stared at the clothes laid out on the bed and waited for Agnes to get out of the shower.
And Agnes did come back into their bedroom with her hair down which was also something she never, if ever, did. She stared Vidal the entire time as she scooped up the underwear off of the bed and put it on. Vidal could only stand and stare in silence as she knew, whatever this was, was Agnes' way of seeking catharsis.
The detective climbed onto their bed and laid herself down in a way that mimicked how Vidal would lay onto the bed. On her right side facing the door, one arm propping herself up and the other down in front of her chest. Her right leg on the bed while her left was crossed over on top. Seductive, provocative. She was displaying herself for Vidal in a way that was without a doubt the mere image of a feminine exhibition. Vidal thought she was going to swallow her own tongue.
But, the agent played along and got dressed with the other clothes that were left on the bed. They were in her size and were eerily close to something she would have worn in her late teens to early adulthood. She realized as she slipped on these vaguely familiar clothes that what Agnes had on, must have been vaguely familiar to her too.
Vidal stood there until Agnes asked her to go stand in the doorway and wait. Vidal grabbed the bag off of the bed, tossing it onto the floor before she took her order and did what Agnes asked of her to do. She stood there, one hand holding the door post as she peered into the room and let her eyes trace over the startling white fabric that covered her partner. It made Vidal's skin crawl.
"We should hurry...my Mom will be home soon..."
Vidal's eyes closed as if they were made of lead. She felt her heart hammer and sink in her chest as she gripped the door frame a little tighter at the sound of Agnes' words. She understood now. This was Agnes opening herself up in a way she could never with just words and a bottle of wine between them.
"...How much time do you think we have?"
Vidal merely whispered as her hand slid down the frame until she let go and took a step towards the bed. Agnes didn't move from her spot; laid there in wait for Vidal to come over her. Vidal could see that plea behind those intelligent blue eyes even in the dimness of their room.
"Not long...the store isn't that far away and she said she was only getting a few things..."
Another sinking of Vidal's heart as she closed the gap between herself and the bed. She pressed her palms down to throw her leg over and then brought her other up to join. She crawled across the bed until she was kneeling right beside Agnes. There was someone else laying there looking up at her; someone she hadn't had the chance to meet. Someone younger, more afraid. Someone who was innocent and gullible and someone who, was deathly afraid.
Vidal sucked in a breath as her hand came out to run her fingers up Agnes' leg. The agent could feel the detective's skin prickle under her touch and the muscles underneath tensing and then relaxing. It was like she had never been touched before; her reaction was something that elicited a newness to such a sensation. Vidal swore her heart was going to break.
"You can barely speak, so cute..."
Vidal whispered under her breath as her fingers moved up even further; daring to slip underneath the hemline of Agnes' underwear. She felt Agnes tense again as if she new this was a bad idea; as if she had been told countless times over and over again to never let anyone touch you this way and especially, not another woman. Vidal had to pull from herself within, somewhere deep and somewhere strong to allow herself to continue with this fantasy? Method of healing? A bigger fuck you towards Evanora in the comfort of their bedroom? Vidal let her fingers slip under and rake through the slightly course pubic hair she would have usually enjoyed if the circumstances were different.
Agnes' eyes widened before she used her forearm that was propping herself up to push away from the bed and fall over onto her back. She was allowing this all to unfold; allowing Vidal to take over as she surrendered herself without another word. Agnes was too chaste, too pure, too desperate in her need for love and affection to ever dream of pushing Vidal away even if her fingers moved in closer to a place she knew would bring her nothing but sin and the feeling of disgrace. Maybe she wanted it; to feel like she was worthless in some way. That would get someones' attention; especially from her mother.
"What if I just leave you here, wet and needy so when your...your mother gets home...she'll find you up here in your bed...just...soiled, ruined..."
Vidal did not expect to hear Agnes moan the way she did but that sound fell from her mouth as she slammed her eyes shut and bucked her hips upwards towards Vidal's fingers and silently begged for more.
Who was Vidal to deny any of this? There was something breaking open; right down the rotten seam and Vidal could only sit there now and pry it with her own fingers.
The juice inside was not rotten but sweet; warm and wet and welcoming as Vidal let her fingers slip easily into Agnes.
"What happens when your mother finds out your not good? What happens when she finds out...you brought me up here to sneak around with you while she's out? What would she say? What...what would she do...Agatha?"
Vidal had known; had always known.
She had known before she even started working at the Westview police station.
She had known when she got the news she was transferring and did her own homework about the people she would be working with.
She had found something that had been omitted a long time ago; something that had definitely been tossed aside a very, very long time ago that she concluded after she had found out more and more, that Alice probably hadn't ever even known.
But she did.
She saw Agnes.
Every inch of her.
Even the name that was given to her and the name she had taken instead.
Vidal saw it all even if Agnes kept it all locked away and closed off and kept her mouth and emotions and memories at bay.
Vidal couldn't stop herself, didn't dare as she continued to move her fingers inside of Agnes and hoped whatever she was doing was right.
"What would your mother say, Agatha...if she knew you had a girl in your bed with her fingers inside of you? What would she do?"
All in a hushed whisper as Vidal shifted closer; just enough that her face was hovering above Agnes'. It was up to her if she wanted to make the next move, the next step. Would she allow herself to fall deeper? Would she allow herself to sink to a level she was scared of? Could she? Was she allowed to fall so far from grace?
Of course she was. What was there to stop her as she clenched her muscles around Vidal's fingers and brought her hands up now to hold the sides of Vidal's face so she could lower it to her own and press her trembling lips to Vidal's?
There was nothing left to say that Vidal's fingers and Agnes' tongue couldn't spell out just on their own. Desperation and acceptance; the countless times that Vidal's fingers curled upwards as if they were saying sorry. The way Agnes sucked on Vidal's tongue as if to say thank you. The harrowing realization that once Vidal's fingers would slip away; coated and sticky with Agnes' orgasm and the string of saliva strung as their lips departed, they would never speak of this ever again.

















