prompt: agatha x rio x reader fight about something really petty and agatha and rio team up on the reader maybe? could be 6 and 15 :)
fundamentals
thank you for the req! i'm not taking requests based on that specific prompt list anymore for future reference but i did my best to reference the dialogue here, hope u like it!!
pairing: agatha x rio x reader (agatha all along)
wc: 2.7k
content & warnings: nsfw, tickle fic, ler!agatha, ler!rio, lee!reader, foot tickling, rib tickling, breast tickling, stomach tickling, pet names (mi amor, my love, sweetheart, little witch, sweet girl, darling), slight degradation
The fire crackled in the hearth, making shadows dance across the walls of the living room. The scent of old paper, dried herbs, and the faint, perpetual ozone of magic hung in the air. Sunken into the worn velvet of the couch, you and your witches were a single, breathing entity of relaxation and warmth. Far be it for either Agatha or Rio to allow the other any real peace for too long, though.
Agatha rested with back against the armrest, legs stretched out before her onto the ottoman. Her brow was furrowed in concentration, her fingers tracing the intricate, faded illustrations in the massive grimoire open on her lap. You were curled into her side, a contented sigh escaping you lips as you nuzzled against Agatha’s ribs, your own fingers idly playing with the hem of Agatha’s sweater. Your eyes, however, were fixed on Rio, who lay with her head in your lap, her dark hair splayed across your bare legs.
Rio’s gaze was sharp, critical, focused on the book in Agatha’s hands. "You know," she began, her voice a low, melodic rumble that vibrated through ticklishly across your thighs, "the foundational principles in that thing have been academically deconstructed for at least two centuries."
Agatha tensed, and you nearly swatted Rio upside the head for disturbing the peace.
"It's a thousand years old, Rio. I'd be more concerned if its theories hadn't been deconstructed by now. It's a historical document. The prose alone is worth the study." She turned a page with a soft, crinkling sound, the movement deliberate and calm.
Now, you wanted to swat Agatha upside the head. She was antagonizing Rio right back in return, and she knew it.
"But you're not just studying the prose, are you?" Rio pressed, shifting to prop herself up on an elbow. The movement made your breath hitch slightly, her hair dusting across your knees. "I saw you taking notes on the binding ritual in chapter seven."
"I'm considering the structure," Agatha countered, her voice still level, though a thread of steel had entered it. "The intent behind the old language. There's a raw power in that kind of certainty, a clarity that modern interpretations have muddied with… empathy." She said the last word as if it were a mildly distasteful spice.
"Empathy isn't mud," Rio shot back, sitting up fully now, forcing you to adjust your position with a sigh. "It's lubrication. It makes the whole process smoother, safer, and far more potent. You're trying to split a log with a rock when there's a perfectly good axe right there." She gestured vaguely toward a lower shelf where a book with a vibrant, green cover sat.
Agatha followed her gaze and laughed once, a sharp cruel sound.
"It's fluff. It's magic diluted for mass consumption, all touchy-feely nonsense that prioritizes the comfort of the caster over the efficacy of the craft," Agatha argued.
A giggle bubbled up in your throat, and you pressed your face into Agatha's sweater to stifle it, shoulders shaking silently. To anyone else, it would sound like an academic debate rapidly souring into a genuine argument. But you could see the subtle way Agatha's thumb was now pressing hard into the margin of the old book, a telltale sign of her rising irritation and excitement. The way Rio's chin was jutting out, a defiant gleam in her dark eyes that spoke less of anger and more of a challenge being issued.
"You're so obsessed with the 'raw power' of the old ways you forget they called it the 'Bloody Age' for a reason," Rio teased. "I should know."
Agatha closed the grimoire with a definitive thump that sent a little cloud of dust motes swirling in the firelight. "Some prefer to ask politely and hope the universe is in a generous mood. I prefer to command."
"Oh, you prefer to command, do you?" Rio was on her knees now on the couch, facing Agatha.
Agatha’s eyes narrowed. "I don't need to feel anything. I am stating a fact. Empathy-based mind-bending is inferior."
"Inferior?" Rio laughed, devoid of humor.
Agatha placed the heavy book on the floor beside the couch, the action slow and deliberate. "Your reliance on modern, sanitized magic has made you soft, Rio."
"Soft?" Rio echoed, her eyes flashing. She leaned in, bracing her hands on the couch on either side of your waist, invading your space but keeping her eyes on Agatha. The scent of her - sage, amber, and petrichor - washed over you. "You think I'm soft?"
You shivered, pressing yourself closer to Agatha's side, eyes darting between both of your wives' faces.
Agatha didn't retreat an inch. She met Rio's challenging stare with one of her own, a slow, predatory smile finally gracing her features. "I think you talk a very good game about synergy and cooperation. But when the moment comes, I've always found you respond best to a firm hand."
There was a 50-50 chance of this ending with a fight as opposed to a fuck; and while you knew both of your wives tended to view the former as as potent form of foreplay, you'd had enough complaints from the neighbors about the noise and property damage the two of them often caused.
Trying to gently ease the argument, you squirm to catch Agatha's eye.
"Your gentleness is it’s own kind of power, my love. A really, really potent one. I appreciate it. A lot.” You inject a little breathiness into your tone as you speak, wriggling a little closer to make your point, and try to draw her thoughts elsewhere.
“Oh, my sweet girl,” Agatha purred, her voice dropping to a velvet-wrapped murmur that seemed to vibrate directly in your brain. “You ‘appreciate it’? Is that what you call it?” She shifted, just slightly, turning her body more fully toward you, one arm draping over the back of the couch, effectively caging you in. “I remember something quite different. I remember how you beg when I’m gentle. How you squirm and plead and those pretty tears well up in your eyes. You find it absolutely torturous, don’t you, darling?”
You knew exactly what Agatha was referring to, and the mere mention of it sent a phantom sensation skittering across your skin, making you briefly wonder if you were imagining it or if she was hammering her point home with a little magic. You tried to shrink back, but were already sunk deep into the plush leather, Agatha on one side and the solid presence of Rio on the other.
Rio let out a low, throaty chuckle, the sound rich with amusement and understanding. “Ah,” she said, the earlier irritation gone, replaced by pure, undiluted glee. They were in on it together now. Your heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird. Flight was impossible. You were pinned, a butterfly under two very attentive, very dangerous collectors.
If you couldn't flee, you would fawn. You would offer a different kind of distraction, one you knew they could rarely resist.
“Is that what you want?” you murmured, voice dropping to a husky whisper. You let one hand drift from Agatha’s sweater, fingers trailing a feather-light path up her waist, rucking the soft fabric up higher. “To hear me beg?”
Your eyes flicked to Rio, including her in the invitation. “Both of you? Because I can think of other things I could be begging for.”
Rio’s chuckle deepened into a rich, knowing laugh. “Oh, look at this, mi amor. Our little witch is trying to seduce her way out of trouble.” Her dark eyes glittered with pure delight as she watched you.
A slow, wicked smile played on Agatha's lips. “I noticed,” she purred, her voice like dark honey. “It’s a lovely attempt. Truly. But it’s also terribly transparent.” She leaned in closer, her breath ghosting across your cheek. “You see, my love, I have a very distinct memory of the last time we had you properly at our mercy like this. You were giggling and begging us to stop, and then… you weren’t. So, you’ll have to forgive me if I don’t believe you’re entirely serious about wriggling out of this."
“She’s not serious at all,” Rio agreed, her tone conspiratorial as she addressed Agatha, though her eyes never left yours.
"Don't be mean!" You protested, squirming.
“Mean?” Agatha feigned thoughtfulness, tapping a finger against her chin. “We’re not mean, darling. We’re thorough. Now, where should we begin?"
Rio’s eyes lit up. “Oh, I have an idea. She loved it so much last time, remember?"
You immediately laugh out loud, a nervous sound startled out of you at the memory. In a single, fluid motion, Rio shifted down the couch, her strong hands closing around your ankles. With effortless strength, she drew your legs straight, pulling her into a semi-reclining position and settling your bare feet squarely in her lap. You let out a little squeak, her toes curling instinctively.
“Ah, ah, none of that,” Rio chided softly, her voice a low, intimate murmur. One hand held your ankle firmly, a gentle but unbreakable anchor, while the fingers of her other hand began a slow exploration. She teased your arch and circled your heel.
“Look at this,” Rio addressed Agatha, her tone clinical and teasing all at once. Her thumb pressed gently into the ball of your foot, and you jerked with a sharp, breathy gasp, toes splaying slightly involuntarily. she let her fingertips drift to the base of your pinky toe, barely making contact.
You bucked, a full-body shudder wracking your frame. A stream of helpless, airy giggles escaped you immediately.
“R-Rio, stop!”
“But I’ve barely started,” Rio cooed, her fingers dancing a feather-light pattern over the tops of your toes. Your feet twitched and flinched, trying to escape the maddening sensation. She focused at the tops of your toes, chuckling darkly when you shrieked, a sound of pure, unadulterated ticklish agony, back arching off the couch cushions.
“Ah! No! Not there! Please, not there!”
"[Y/N], be still," Agatha's voice cut through your breathless giggles, not loud, but layered with demanding energy, and it sent a fresh, involuntary shiver down your spine, momentarily overriding the ticklish sensations. Agatha watched the struggle on your face. "That's better," she purred. Then, her eyes flicked to Rio. "Don't forget the spot just under the ball of her foot."
Rio shifted her grip, holding your ankle more firmly, and used the thumb of her other hand to find the exact, specific patch of soft, sensitive skin just below the pads of your toes.
A strangled sound, half-gasp, half-moan, tore from your throat. The giggles died instantly, replaced by a sharp, panting breath. This wasn't just tickling. Your hips gave a tiny, involuntary jerk against the leather couch.
"R-Rio…" you whimpered, no longer a request for mercy, but a desperate, raw sound of want.
The feeling was unbearable, a torturous pleasure that coiled tight in your belly, making her clench and throb with emptiness. Your skin felt suddenly too hot, too tight over your bones. You were suddenly aware of how wet you were.
And then, Rio stopped.
The absence of the sensation was a shock, a physical pain. Your eyes flew open, wide and dazed. A pathetic, broken whine escaped your lips.
"No… please… don't stop…" you begged, voice ragged and thin.
It was in that moment of vulnerable, desperate need, all of your senses screaming and your body hyper-aware, that Agatha struck.
With the silent grace of a panther, Agatha moved. She didn't go for the feet. She leaned over you, her hands finding their way to familiar sensitive muscle, her fingers splaying across the soft flesh over your ribs.
You screamed.
It was a full-throated, helpless shriek of laughter, pure and unadulterated. The shift from intense, building arousal to sudden, shocking ticklish torment was too much for your overloaded system. You bucked and writhed, trying to escape, but Agatha's fingers were like ten tiny, wicked vipers, dancing and digging between your ticklish ribs.
"Ah! Ahaha! Agatha! No! Stohohop!" you howled, tears streaming down your face now, the earlier seductive ploy a distant, laughable memory. Agatha’s assault was ruthless, her fingers tracing the delicate undersides of your breasts, skimming the sides where the skin was impossibly sensitive, before spidering up to dance lightly around your nipples through the fabric of your dress.
Agatha watched your desperate, writhing form with a look of profound, wicked satisfaction. The tears of mirth staining your cheeks, your chest heaving with ragged, laughing breaths.
"Gods, you're pathetic," Agatha purred, the words a caress and an insult all at once. Her eyes tracked the frantic rise and fall of your stomach. "But we haven't even gotten to the main event yet, have we?"
Her fingers, which had been tormenting your ribs and breasts, began a slow, deliberate descent. They traced the delicate line of your sternum, down over the quivering plane of your abdomen.
Your breath hitched, the laughter dying in her throat, replaced by a new, sharper and more serious note of pure panic. "No… no, sweetheart, not there, please."
Both of your wives were well-aware that the mere suggestion of a touch there could send you into preemptive giggles. The reality was devastating.
Agatha's fingertips made contact, not digging, not scratching, but simply resting there, a hair's breadth from applying pressure.
It was enough.
You shrieked, a sound of pure, unadulterated sensory overload. It was a spasm of pure desperation, so powerful that it actually succeeded in dislodging you from the tangle of limbs and the sunken couch cushions.
You half-rolled, half-fell onto the floor with a soft thud, landing in a heap of trembling limbs and disheveled dress, gasping for air on the thick rug.
Silence descended, broken only by your panting breaths and the crackle of the fire. You lay there, dazed, the phantom sensations of their touches still dancing across her skin like static. Had they stopped? Was it over? A fragile, foolish hope bloomed in her chest.
You looked up, her vision blurry with unshed tears. Agatha and Rio were both looking down at her from the couch, their expressions utterly amused and endeared. There was no anger at your escape, only a calm, shared assessment.
Agatha turned her head slowly towards Rio, a thoughtful glint in her eye. "You know," she began, her voice conversational, as if they were picking up their debate about the grimoire, "this presents an interesting practical application for our earlier… disagreement."
Rio’s lips curved into a slow, understanding smile. "Oh?"
"The matter of bindings," Agatha continued, her gaze drifting back to your prone form. "The old way versus the new. You argued for synergy and cooperation. I argued for command and control." She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. "Our lovely, squirmy test subject has provided us with the perfect opportunity for a side-by-side comparison. We can each try our hand at our preferred method. See which one holds her more… effectively."
The fragile hope in your chest shattered, replaced by a fresh, thrilling wave of dread. It wasn't over. It was just moving to a new, more deliberate stage.
"Interesting proposal," Rio said, her voice warm with anticipation. She stood first, extending a hand down to you. It wasn't a threat, but an invitation, and that made it all the more terrifying.
Agatha rose with her, a pillar of calm authority. "Come along, darling. The laboratory awaits."
Trembling on legs feeling like water, you placed her hand in Rio's and allowed yourself to be pulled to your feet. You were flanked immediately, Agatha taking her other arm. There was no violence in their grip, only absolute certainty. They guided you out of the cozy, fire-lit living room and into the dimmer, cooler hallway that led to the bedroom.
Each step felt heavy. The plush carpet muffled your footsteps, amplifying the sound of your own frantic heartbeat in her ears. The threat was a palpable thing, hanging in the air between them, a promise of your ticklish doom that awaited. The idea was terrifying but much more pressingly, it was thrilling. You tightened your grip on both of your wives and sped up your steps, nearly pulling them along impatiently.
Thank you so much for this kind message! People probably aren’t sending in many things because of the fact that I just started this blog, or they just simply don’t know that my prompts are open lol. But THANK YOU! This prompt was amazing and I was honestly so excited to write for it. Thanks for your inspiration! I couldn't sleep and felt the need to post this at 3 am.
PLATONIC Avengers x Reader
Summary: You had a hard day at school, but when you get home, you see that the Avengers will always have a way to get you smiling again.
Word Count: 1,777
<3 Reblogs are greatly appreciated <3
~~*~~
It was a rather calm Thursday afternoon. You had just gotten out of school and were entering the Avengers compound. You were walking in all by yourself because you had declined Happy’s offer to drive you home. So he and Peter got home way before you did. You just needed time to yourself and you figured that walking home was the best way to do it.
Your day at school wasn’t the best. You couldn’t get any of your assignments correct, you kept messing up your locker combination, you dropped all of your belongings in the middle of the hallway, all of your mechanical pencils never had led in them, and you wet your sleeves when you were washing your hands. Your mind was just in a completely different place and everything just went wrong.
Soon enough, you reached the living room where everyone seemed to be hanging out. They all looked up from what they were doing to see you walk through the door. You’ve spent a lot of time with the Avengers, so they could tell just by the look on your face and your general posture that something was wrong.
“Hey hun.” Wanda greeted. “Everything alright?” You didn’t really want to tell the Avengers what was wrong. You felt like you were upset for a stupid reason, and you would just waste their time explaining.
“Yeah everything’s fine!” You said, trying to hurry to the stairs so you could get to your room as fast as possible. Tony then stood in front of you and placed his hands on your shoulders.
“You didn’t want to ride home with Happy and Peter.” He said. “Any particular reason why?”
You just looked down at your shoes. “Uhm no. I just wanted alone time. Y’know just me and my thoughts.”
Tony stared at you in disbelief. He wasn’t buying a single word that was slipping out of your mouth. “Alright fine. But before you head up to your room, do you think I could get a famous Y/N smile?” Damn. Tony was onto you.
You slowly picked your head up to look at him and slightly twitched the corner or your lip upwards.
“Ha! That was the worst smile I’ve ever seen! I knew something was wrong.” Tony exclaimed. “Spill it kid, what’s up with you?”
You sighed and looked anywhere, but at Tony. “It’s nothing important. You don’t need to worry about it.” You tried to walk over to the staircase again, but Tony scooped you up and tossed you on the couch in between Steve and Peter.
“I’m fine! Can I please go in my room?” You asked, trying to get up again.
Steve grabbed your shoulder and sat you back down. “I know this is going to sound really cliché, but you know you can tell us anything, right?” Steve stared into your eyes with nothing but love and kindness. “No matter how stupid you think the reason may be, we still care.”
“You’ve been acting differently all day, Y/N.” Peter said, trying to get you to look at him. “I wanna help you.”
“I say we just hang her upside down until she tells us what’s been bugging her.” Clinton joked. There were some collective giggling after Barton’s comment.
“I second Barton’s idea!” Bucky chimed. A joke like that usually would’ve made you laugh, but right now you couldn’t even work up a proper smile.
“Y/N doesn’t seem to be very pleased with your commentary right now, guys.” Natasha said with a smile, looking you dead in the eye.
“N-No it’s fine.” You spoke. “It’s funny.”
Peter blinked at you in confusion. “So then why aren’t you laughing?”
You simply shrugged. “I just don’t feel like it right now.”
“You don’t...feel like laughing?” Peter repeated.
You nodded. “Damn. That’s the saddest shit I’ve heard all day..” Barton was quickly silenced by a smack behind the head by Natasha.
“How about a nice smile?” Steve said, nudging your shoulder and giving you a smile of his own. You really tried, but you just ended up pressing your lips together. It looked nothing like a smile.
“I take back what I said before.” Tony said, taking a seat in front of you. “That was the worst smile I’ve ever seen.”
“Sorry. I just can’t...right now.” You sighed.
“Well that’s alright, hun. We’ll help you.” Natasha said, making her way over to you and taking a seat next to Tony. “Anyone got any jokes or something?”
“Yeah, I have one!” Peter chimed. You gave your attention to Peter and waited for his joke. “What do you call a pig that does karate?”
“What do you call it, Pete?” Tony sighed, knowing that this joke was going to be bad.
“A porkchop!”
Silence rang throughout the entire living room.
“Aha! I get it!” Steve laughed, “Why aren’t we laughing? It was funny!” He looked around, hoping for someone to agree with him. “What? Do you guys not get it or something? It’s because it’s a pig that-”
“No, Steve.” Natasha said, placing a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “We get it, it’s just that the joke was so horrible, no one found it funny.”
“Well how could you not find it funny? It was clearly-”
“Rogers. The joke was corny. End of conversation.” Tony stated.
“How was the joke corny? It got straight to the point, it made sense-”
“It was bad, Steve! It was a dad joke!”
You watched the two quarrel over something as silly as a joke Peter made. It was amusing to you. You didn’t even notice the smile that sprouted on your face.
“Hey, well you would look at that.” Peter smiled, looking at you. “Is that a smile I see, Y/N?” Tony and Steve stopped their bickering to look at your face.
“Huh, I think it is.” Tony said, adjusting his glasses and squinting his eyes. That only made you smile harder.
“Now can we get a laugh?” Steve asked, poking your side, causing you to jerk violently and bump into Peter’s shoulder. Everyone’s eyes widened in realization, and evil smirks soon took over their faces.
“I think I have an idea on how to get Y/N laughing.” Steve grinned. “Hey, Buck help me hold her down, would ya?” Bucky quickly got up from his chair and made his way over to you.
You felt your heart sink. They were going to tickle you to pieces. No doubt about it.
“No! Wait guys, dohohon’t!” You said, already giggling nervously.
“You don’t even know what we’re going to do yet.” Bucky smiled, lightly pushing you on your back and getting a hold on your right arm while Steve got a hold on your left one.
“NONONO! Let mehe goho! Plehease don’t tickle me!” You begged.
“Ah, so you do know what we’re going to do.” Tony grinned, cracking his knuckles and wiggling his fingers in front of you. “Pete, wanna get her armpits while I get her ribs?” A wide smile took over Peter’s face as he made his way over to your head and placed his hands right in front of your armpits, just to taunt you.
“Noho! Get away from me! Lehehet mehehe up!” You struggled, trying your best to get out of Steve and Bucky’s grip. Obviously, it didn’t work.
“Not until we see that smile.” Natasha said, hovering her hands over you thighs.
“Alright guys, tickle her in …3″
“NOHO!”
“2″
“STOHOP!”
“1.”
“TONY I SW - EHEHEHEHAHAHAHAH!”
You screamed at the top of your lungs. Peter had dug into your armpits, Tony started vibrating all ten of his finger son your ribs, and Natasha started squeezing the insides of your thighs. Hysterical laughter was instantly ripped out of your chest and you had the biggest goofy smile on your face.
“Awhh. There it is~” Peter cooed.
“That’s the smile we wanted! Keep it up, Y/N!” Steve teased.
“IHIHIHIHI DOHOHON’T HAHAHAVE A CHOHOHOICE!” You squealed.
“Well, at least you know.” Tony smirked.
You jerked left and right, desperately trying to get free. Since no one was holding down your feet, you tried kicking, but now matter what you did, Natasha’s hands were glued to the inside of you thighs.
“Wanna tell us why you were feeling down?” Bucky asked.
“NOHOHOHOHO! IHIHIHIHIT’S STUHUHUHUHUHUPID!”
“Wow you asked for this.” Tony said, blowing a long raspberry on your tummy.
You tossed your head back and screamed, giving Steve and Bucky a perfect view of your smile.
“PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE STOHOHOHOHOP!”
“Tell us what’s been bugging you and we may consider stopping.” Tony said.
“Alright well, there’s more where that came from.” Tony said, blowing another raspberry right above your belly button. You shrieked and threw your head back once again.
“We’ve already discussed that nothing you say will be stupid.” Steve reassured in a caring tone.
“OHOHOHOHOKAY! LEHEHEHET MEHEHEH GOHOHOHO AHAHAHAND IHIHIHI’LL TEHEHELL YOHOHOU!” You begged, not knowing how much more of this you could take.
“Absolutely not. We still want that smile.” Tony grinned.
“You can do whatever you set your mind to, Y/N!” Natasha teased.
“IHIHIHIHIH’M GOHOHOHNNA DIHIHIE!”
“Oh don’t be such a drama queen. We’d never kill you.” Tony said.
These guys really weren’t giving you any mercy. Tears started welling up in your eyes from laughing too hard and your chest started to burn. Your laughter went completely silent and everyone stilled their fingers. Bucky and Steve let you go, and watched you trying to catch up with your breath.
“Yohohou guhuhys are are mean.” You giggled, wiping the tears from your eyes.
Steve chuckled as he sat down next to you. “You ready to tell us now?”
“My mind was just in a different place today. I didn’t feel like myself. Everything I did just went wrong.” You sighed.
They all look at you with love and compassion. “It’s alright, kiddo. We all have those kinds of days.” Tony said, rubbing his thumb on your cheek.
“You guys wanna turn on a movie or something?” Bucky asked.
“Sure, Barnes.” Tony agreed.
“You down to watch a movie, Y/N/N?” Natasha asked.
“Mhm. I’m feeling a lot better.” You smiled. You got all snuggled up with the Avengers and this day really made you realize how grateful you were to have them.
You wake up before your alarm a bundle of anxious nerves. Exactly like Kathryn predicted, your mind starts to race, overthinking taking over and attacking you at all angles with insecurity until you're forced to physically curl up to stop the raw, itching feeling covering your skin.
At some point in the night, the two of you untangled. You reach out for the other woman in the dark of the room, sliding a hand down her back softly to find the hem of her shirt and then worming closer to push your hands up under it. She shifts in her sleep at the contact and then stirs awake, reaching back for you awkwardly before giving up and just laying there contently instead.
"You're up early," she mumbles, sleep softening her voice.
"I'm not going today," you tell her, so close now that to have no choice but to mumble it almost right into her shoulder.
"Yes you are," she says, and you hear her stifle a yawn. It's simple as that, her breathing goes even again and you're sure she's fallen back asleep.
"I don't think I am," you say after a beat. You pull your hands free from her shirt and roll over, facing away from her to focus on your anxiety alone.
You only have a moment to do so before she stirs again and then rolls over to you, her hands rubbing soft circles into your shoulders.
"You're going. It's too late to cancel, unless you're dying. Are you dying?"
One hand slides up like she's checking the lymph nodes in your neck and you whine, rolling a little further away. She closes the space and tickles at your sides; you startle and giggle, squirming ridiculously under the sheet and grabbing for her hands.
"Wait- while I have you, let me make sure I have this right," she insists. Her hands drop to your sides and she squeezes. Her fingers are dangerously close to your stomach and her thumbs pressing into the backs of your obliques are making you melt into laughter. She keeps her tone light and curious, but you can hear the amusement beneath it. "So this tickles, but this really tickles."
You jolt so hard you nearly leave her grip and the bed entirely when she slides her hands up and digs her fingers unrelentingly into your rib cage.
"Oh my gohohohod, stop!" You grab uselessly at her hands, succeeding in covering them but not stopping them. Her fingers crawl upward, unimpeded by your attempts, and massage into that spot you'd shown her the night before, the one you knew was going to get you into trouble. "N-HAHAHA-FUCK!"
She laughs with you for a second, and you have the hazy realization through your laughter that the restraints were given more credit than they were owed when you'd taught her this trick. The sensation itself makes you freeze up tensely, arms locked away from your body awkwardly like it's a secret factory reset button and you haven't rebooted how to defend yourself yet.
You nearly elbow her and it stops before you can injure one or both of you.
Exhaling shakily, you sink further into the bed for a moment as your heart pounds against the mattress.
"See? Now you're warmed up." The smirk in Kathryn's voice is evident and you don't need to face her to see it. She pats you encouragingly on the butt and then kicks the sheet down to climb out of bed.
You sit up with a pout to watch her, though it vanishes from your face when she tugs her shirt up over her head and reveals herself to you. She jerks her head in the direction of the bathroom with a raised eyebrow and you nearly fall out of the bed in your hurry to rush after her and join her in the shower.
-
"Danny wants me to tell him what we are."
You reach into the center console and take a sip from your smoothie, wincing at the bitterness of it. It tastes healthy, so you convince yourself you can feel it working.
Kathryn's eyes dart up to the rear view mirror before they slide over to you in curiosity.
"Danny wants me to tell him what we are, too," she informs you. You chuckle and swirl the cup in your hands a bit.
"What do I tell him?" You ask.
"Why is that my call?" She replies, catching you a little off-guard.
"That is... a good question," you admit. "Friends feels a bit impersonal. And I don't generally sleep with my friends."
"Maybe you need better friends," Kathryn suggests, but you can tell she's not serious; her attention is clearly focused on finding a solution to the conversation the same way yours is. "I don't exactly tie my friends up and make them beg me to tickle them."
Your cheeks burn. You take a long sip from your smoothie and set it back in the cup holder.
"Maybe you need better friends," you try to turn it back on her. "And I did not beg you."
You can't see her eyes under her sunglasses but you can tell they're sparkling mischievously. You cross your arms and roll your eyes.
"Am I embarrassing you?" she asks it teasingly but you catch her shooting a glance your way and you realize she really is checking in.
"No," you reply, chuckling at yourself before saying, "Actually... it makes me feel less weird about it. The..." You wiggle your fingers, "Flippancy."
"Good. Nothing to feel weird about, anyway."
Her fingers adjust on the steering wheel and you lick your lips as you watch them.
"And in the spirit of honesty, barring you like... telling other people what I'm into, I kind of like it when you embarrass me."
She makes a surprised 'ah' noise of understanding, glancing at you again and then chuckling.
"I've gotten more out of you in a couple of weeks than I have in years with some people," she tells you. "It's a nice change."
The praise makes you smile shyly, turning your attention back out the window again.
"Maybe we could just say 'dating'," Kathryn says a moment later, and you're reminded of your initial question. You turn to her as she pulls up to the curb and idles the car. "For our friends. As for anyone else, maybe more of a 'mind your business' sort of answer will work as a blanket thing."
You chuckle at that but understand the importance of that extra instruction.
"Will I see you again before you go?" She asks, taking one of your hands over the console.
You pout a tiny bit with a sigh.
"Probably not. Now don't you feel bad for kicking me out of bed this morning instead of staying in with me?"
"Aw," She lets go of your hand and strokes your cheek softly, then pats it - gently but still jarring. "No. Get out, you're going to be late."
You laugh and swat her hand away, leaning across the console further and kissing her. She leans back into you and then pulls away to look into your eyes before kissing you again. You're ready to get lost in it entirely when a horn honks on the road near you and you remember where you are - and remember that you just covered keeping your relationship to yourselves.
"I'll call you when I get home," you tell her, slipping out of the car before you can get carried away again.
She rolls down the window after you to call, "[Y/N]! You owe me a dinner date!"
You glance back and grin, waving a little sadly before making your way into the gym.
-
Danny drives you home after your class and you spend the better part of your afternoon packing. You didn't bring much, but you did have a bit of retail therapy - plus the weather beginning to change mid-trip means that most of what you did bring is becoming useless.
Jade brings you a storage tote from their unit and you make a small 'essentials' bag of what to bring back home with you while leaving the rest at Riley and Jade's place until you come back.
When your lease agreement comes in with a promise of keys-in-hand a few weeks later, you track down a suitable airbnb option and bite the bullet on the last-minute convenience pricing and its strain on your credit card to fill in the gap. The less time you need to stay back home, the better.
Your flight is painfully early the following morning and Jade has agreed to drive you before work so you make up for it by cooking them dinner and ordering in dessert for an early night in. You're just in the process of finishing the seasoning mix for the steaks when Riley arrives home from work.
"Honey, I'm home!" She announces, making her way into the kitchen and kissing your cheek obnoxiously loudly before getting herself a bottle of water. "Nice to see you here, finally peeled yourself off of the movie star long enough to remember us little people?"
You laugh outright at that and she snorts at her own joke as well.
"Yes, unfortunately for you, I am alllll yours tonight," You reply. "Though, if last night was any indicator, this is necessary for my health."
Riley doubles back and twitches her eyebrows at you.
"Oh yeah? Well don't spare the details, you're giving me blue balls."
You snicker at that and turn away to pick up one of the steaks, pressing some of the spice rub into it. You don't mind sharing - you and Riley specifically have a bit of a no-boundaries relationship with the exception of a few of your personal interests - but you wonder if that's hypocritical. You did sort of ask Kathryn not to tell anyone about that kink of yours which covered a lot of the ground of your activities.
"The sex is just... really good," you say honestly.
"That's all I get?" Riley whines. She reaches around you and swipes up a piece of cauliflower from your bowl and crunches down on it before speaking around it, "I get nothing? Come on. Did you guys click right away? Did you see her room? Is she into anything weird?"
She waggles her eyebrows and you sigh, throwing her a bone.
"She did tie me up, but that was my idea. Or I guess it was both of ours. I did tell her I was into it, though."
"Not the craziest thing I've heard from you, but I'll take it. Especially since it was right out the gate."
"It was only the second time," you agree, realizing now just how quickly you've knocked that barrier out of the way.
"Wait, what? You said you weren't going to the other n-" Riley stares at you before realization dawns on her face and she smacks you in the arm so hard you fully drop the next steak you've picked up back onto the cutting board. "You dirty fuck! At the cabin! Oh my god, me and Jade didn't even fuck that night."
You rub your arm with the back of your hand.
"First of all, ow. Secondly, that is not my fault - I even left you guys alone in the room."
"It was a little bit your fault. Between the Xanax and the thunder and being in room directly below Aubrey Plaza, it's sort of a miracle I made it to work at all the day after."
You finally look up at her guiltily.
"I am sorry about that, by the way," you say. "I didn't mean to... throw you to the wolves. Either of you. On the upside, I think it was a test and we passed, so... yay."
Riley waves a hand dismissively. "That wasn't your fault. Besides, between all of us we've been around enough... influencers and models and whatever that I should have been more chill about it."
"But it was Aubrey Plaza," you add understandingly, a grin tugging at your lips.
"But it was Aubrey. Plazaaaa." Riley groans dramatically and grips the counter, shaking obnoxiously like she's exorcising some kind of demon of horniness. "Dude, that was insane. Jade tried to warn me too, I thought she was pranking me."
You snort out a laugh and finish seasoning the third steak, then set them aside to get started on oiling a pan.
"Well I have no intention of letting Kathryn out of my
sight anytime soon so enjoy your newfound friend-of-a-friendship."
"No, for real," Riley agrees, "Jade has a crush on her now - but the way straight men have crushes on each other. It's kind of cute. They were talking about old movies after you left and I literally passed out from listening to it."
You giggle at the image and look up as the door opens again, hearing Jade hang her keys and bag.
"Babe?"
"Kitchen!" Riley calls, turning her attention to you again as you turn on the heat, ready to start searing now that everyone was home. "So what, you guys are like... going steady?"
"Close enough," you reply. "'Dating' is what we've settled on."
"Publicly?" Riley presses.
You shake your head, and suck some oil from your finger before taking a carrot from the bowl to crunch on.
"No. It's only been like two weeks, anyway," you remind her - it's a reminder to yourself as well, one you keep repeating whenever you let your thoughts wander too far.
"This is so wild," Riley sighs, smiling as Jade makes her way in and slipping an arm around her as she hands over her water bottle. "You haven't dated a normal person since... what, high school?"
You snort - but it's true.
"Keeps me humble, y'know? Very... grounded with my lack of Instagram activity."
It had only given you extra attention once or twice, the occasional influencer-snark corner of the internet realizing they'd seen you more than once but often being bored enough by your lack of newsworthy behavior to care enough to bother you. It's one of the many reasons you didn't want any sort of public apology from Alycia; a clean break will let you fade into the background without her fans noticing you're even gone.
"You making steaks?"
You turn your attention to Jade and beam proudly.
"Yes," You glance at the now-sizzling pan and pick up the tongs, snapping them playfully at the other women. "Get out, go relax."
As they leave, you hear them quietly negotiate a shower together without the intent for you to hear so you pretend not to and begin to sear the steaks. Jokes about the cabin aside, you know your presence actually has had a damper on their usually-thriving sex life even if they're too nice to say it; you'll be out of their hair soon enough.
-
Alycia texts you while you wait by your gate at LAX and clutch your overpriced coffee between both hands tiredly. You never slept well before a flight, even when you were looking forward to the destination, so this just felt a thousand times worse.
'What time do you land?'
You check your ticket and then squint up at the screen by the gate to make sure nothing has changed before responding.
'9.'
'I'll be at the shoot by then.'
You shrug at your phone and make an annoyed face as if she can even see you. Ok? Who asked?
'Alright'
You don't want to see her first thing, anyway. You just want to get in, take a shower, email your advisor back about your approval on your extensions, and then start packing as soon as possible.
Exiting the text, you pull up Instagram instead. You'd been avoiding it since that one incident of stalking Alycia after her drunk texts, not that you were usually particularly active, but you did recently post a few photos in a carousel from the trip. It was, despite everything, worth remembering for a number of reasons.
A candid photo of Jade and Riley looking sweet that you'd taken from the back seat, the southern California sunset and palm trees visible behind them in turn through the windshield. A photo of the chicken bones from sixty wings that the three of you obliterated the night that you had decided to move. A photo of the bonfire at the cabin, with only some shoes visible to indicate any other human life in the shot.
You scroll through the notifications disinterestedly and freeze at the new follower request.
Aubrey.
You stare at it for a long moment and then click through to her page, sure it must be a fake or a mistake. Her obnoxiously large following - which you're included in - stares up at you and you shake your head, exiting the app entirely. You need to finish your coffee before dealing with that.
You look over at the sound of a few men laughing to each other with laptops open, in full suits at the nearby bar, and feel tempted to go get a drink yourself. It's only 7 but you're awash in the timeless zone of chaos that is an airport terminal, so it's not like anyone could judge.
Shaking off the temptation, you down the rest of your coffee instead and open Instagram again, confidently tapping 'accept' and pursing your lips as you refresh.
'Aubrey Plaza is now following you'
That's enough social media for one day.
You don't even bother going through the stories or your feed, closing the app once more and swiping decisively out of it from your idle tabs. You want to call Kathryn, but she's either asleep or awake - and if it's the latter it's because she has something more important to be doing than tending to your boredom.
You flick airplane mode on and tuck your phone away, settling in to the uncomfortable gate seat and trying to give your mind the space to relax.
-
A mutual friend of you and Alycia's picks you up from the airport and takes you back to your apartment. True to her word, she isn't home, and now that you've had a chance to get in a power nap on the plane, you feel a renewed energy to get started on the packing right away.
You find that Alycia has taken it upon herself to move your clothes out of the closet, already in four overstuffed garment bags on the end of the bed, but she's left the rest up to you.
The bathroom is a tricky task and you regret starting there when you're about halfway through the drawers and drawers of makeup and skincare. Most of it is Alycia's but in that most is everything you use that she doesn't. You've been siphoning her endless supply of expensive PR packages for months and she's never minded before but the last thing you need is her putting you on blast for robbing her of half of her product closet. Even if she was going to let it expire.
You box up what you have open and everything that directly matches it as backup, bringing it with you to the bedroom to stack next to your garment bags. You're glad you brought at least some of your new clothing back from LA with you because the idea of unpacking what Alycia's already packed makes you feel dizzy.
You take your hunt to the living room and eye the shelves of movies and books, starting with the books you bought for school and then moving through you and Alycia's shared film collection. It's pretty humble; a few blockbusters and scattered pieces you picked up over the years.
You start pulling a few titles off the shelf with Kathryn's name and then realize how awkward it'll be for her to come to your new apartment and see your movie collection is exclusively her work. You put back 'Bad Moms'. Alycia likes that one. You put away a few candles you picked out that haven't yet been burned, a trinket or two from shelf that you brought into the space when you first moved in, and then you settle on the couch to take a break. You notice that you've worked through lunch but the fridge is too far away and you don't want to spend any extra money before the move.
Loneliness starts sinking in on all sides of you in the quiet, so you get up again, and put on 'Bad Moms'. Realizing you've been in the quiet because your phone is still off makes you feel a little stupid as you retrieve it from
your purse and turn it back on while you grab a bag of some kind of idiotic overpriced vegan chocolate that must have come in a PR box out of the fridge and a can of hard seltzer; not exactly a nutritious meal but it's comforting nonetheless.
Your notifications come through in a whirlwind - you hadn't told anyone you were back in town and even then, you only really spent time with a select few friends outside of events. Confused, you almost miss the couch from
staring at your phone, blindly hitting 'play' on the movie.
A lot of texts from numbers you haven't saved, some with name suggestions that you know and others without fill the top section of your notifications. Mostly just 'hey' and requests to catch up and apologies for being absent. One from Riley sticks out, you expand it to realize it's actually multiple.
'Hey! Did you get in alright?'
'Dude.'
You swipe out of it to reply to later, and scroll to the dozens of follow-requests on your rarely-used Twitter account. Ignoring those as well, you see that the brunt of the attention is coming directly from Instagram.
You're not exactly hurting for a ton of attention on the site but it's not that common for all 500-something of your followers to like a single post of yours. Especially not when it's a non-event photo, since that is your connection to a lot of the people you've let have access.
'OMG, is this at Black Bear? You should come to ours sometime, if you like it up there!'
'Living your best life! Love to see it.'
'Miss you and Leesh, call me back!'
'Looking gorgeous as always'
You open the photo - it's the carousel that you posted the evening before. Scrolling through the confusingly complimentary comments, you find the source of your newfound popularity and your heart thuds in your chest.
'Wow, no tag?'
Aubrey. Her comment seems brighter than the others, just a hint of her leg visible in the bonfire photo in the above slide you've swiped to.
The comment feels like a challenge, but you're not sure if you should take it or not. It's not like the photos will appear on her page anyway, your account is set to private, but it would be for you. Your friends, your audience.
You set your phone down and pull another chocolate out of the bag. It would be weird not to tag anyone else from
that particular photo, you decide. You look at her comment again and hit 'like' beside it, then swipe out of the app altogether. Check.
Alycia's home within the hour. The sound of her get in the lock makes you rocket up off of the couch like you're going to get in trouble for slacking on the job.
The pair of you stared at each other from across the apartment for a moment, and then Alycia spoke first.
"I need a favor," she told you, dropping her keys beside the door and pulling her purse off of her arm.
"Mm." You nod once. Kathryn says something on the screen behind you and you steel your gaze on your ex, posture tightening.
"The Paris Hilton party is tomorrow," she reminds you. "I still need you to go with me."
"Ohhh, definitely not," you shake your head.
"[Y/N], seriously," she cuts you off, "I need the PR or you can't take like... any of the kitchen stuff, or the appliances. And everyone is going to notice if you're not there."
You gnaw on your lip and place your hands on your hips, glancing at the kitchen. A free, fully-stocked kitchen would take a massive dent out of your moving expenses. That, and...
"And everyone knows you just got back from LA. It's going to look bad."
"For you?" You reply, annoyed. "Because that's not a massive priority for me right now. Keeping you looking good."
Alycia rubs her temples and despite your annoyance, your hand twitches in reflex to want to reach out and stop her like you used to.
"I just want this to blow over as painlessly as possible."
So do you, but you're allowed to want that. You ball your hands into fists to avoid saying anything too mean.
"I'll go but I'm not pretending to be your girlfriend." She opens her mouth to speak and you raise a hand to stop her, continuing, "I won't tell anyone we're over, I won't make a big deal out of it, but we are not putting on a show. Am I clear?"
She looks a little relieved.
"Crystal."
You turn on your heel.
"I'm going to keep packing, the truck is coming Wednesday afternoon." You make your way to the second-bedroom-turned-office to give Alycia room to go about her decompressing routine; it won't help either of you if you interrupt it.
"Dress code tomorrow is pink!" She calls after you.
Of course it is.
-
The event is more vapid than you'd been anticipating, and as the thought enters your mind you wonder when you got so negative. As a thought exercise you picture Kathryn and feel immediately better. Okay, maybe you're not a pessimist after all - maybe this lifestyle has just lost all of its charm for you overnight.
You check your phone again as subtly as possible but there's still no text from the actress.
You'd sent her a mirror selfie earlier after getting ready - the photo looked hot, you looked hot, but you didn't want anything from this night or event on your page so you sent it to her instead to not let it go to waste. You knew based on the time she was probably still busy; if her house was in chaos from her entourage she still had another twenty minutes left before she could properly kick them out.
So she hadn't texted. Your instagram was still blowing up obnoxiously, though. You considered paring down your followers list a little more.
"Hey," Olivia - your friend who had picked you up yesterday - approached, smiling brightly at you both despite possibly being one of the only other people in the room who knew at least part of what was going on between you. You're relieved to see a friendly face.
"Hey yourself," you hug her quickly, ignoring the flash from
the event photographer's camera. "Feels like I just saw you."
"Hi, honey," she greets Alycia with sympathy dripping from
her voice and you resist the urge to roll your eyes. "Let's all get a drink," she insists, taking one of each of your hands to drag you off to the bar.
You stick to water, the last thing you need is to lose your head in a place like this, but no one bats an eye.
You mingle for a few minutes with the other people, some who approach to talk to Alycia, some you know yourself. It's hard to keep track of everyone truthfully, but you keep your cool even when Alycia slings an arm around you for a photo and squishes you in next to a few other women she's been referring to as her 'best friends' for the last several minutes.
"Wait, so how did you guys end up camping with Aubrey Plaza?" The woman to Olivia's left asks the question and it makes you choke on your water.
"We didn't," Alycia replies for you, gesturing between the two of you. "That's all her."
You have to hand it to her, she is (ironically) honest when it comes to talking about her networking. It was one thing you always admired, even from a marketing standpoint, about her. The slight boost one would get from a name drop would be so easily undone by a fact-check from someone with just the right connections at the right time, and the optics of being out of the loop were much less harsh than the optics of being caught lying about being in it in the first place.
You realize the conversation has turned back to you and you shrug.
"It wasn't really like... camping. Just a... friend of a friend of a friend thing. I was visiting some friends in the city and it just kind of fell into place."
That wasn't quite a lie - those were all facts but the order of them had been rather jumbled up. Alycia watches you with an unreadable expression.
"That's it?" The other woman asks. You've already forgotten her name which is embarrassing as you've clearly already met once or twice before if she's following your Instagram.
"I don't know what else you want me to tell you," you breathe with a small laugh, glancing over at the bar. "Looks like they're re-upping on those glittery shots. I'll get us a round before they run out again."
You slip away from the table but don't miss the way Alycia goes to grab your hand, possibly intending to follow you. You don't look back until you reach the other end of the bar and realize she must have changed her mind.
As you wait for the shots, you check your phone again and light up excitedly at Kathryn's name on the screen, almost dropping it in your haste to respond.
'Pretty'
'What's the occasion?'
You chew your lip before deciding to bite the bullet.
'One last shitty event before I'm free from my unofficial quasi-influencer contract.'
'Full disclosure I'm here with my ex and our friends.'
Friends is a bit of a stretch but you don't feel it's too dishonest. You try to smooth it over with a dreaded triple-text.
'Would much rather be here with you but I don't think pink bakeware is really important enough for your time'
You wait a few agonizing beats and grin giddily when she responds, seemingly unconcerned by the news of Alycia's presence.
'I could be convinced to care. What else are you wearing?'
You've just started typing back a teasing response when your shots are ready, and you tuck your phone away to bring them back to the table.
Olivia cheers and grabs one, tossing it back without even looking.
"Wait, picture," Alycia insists.
"You can have mine," you tell Olivia, sliding her your own shot for the photo. Alycia shoots you a glance at your lack of participation but smartly doesn't call attention, giving you a moment to your phone.
'Not much'
You fire your response off and grin at the screen, wondering how likely you'll be to get away with possibly having phone sex while sleeping on the air mattress in the office with Alycia in the next room.
You feel your phone buzz and then again but ignore it as you tuck it away, pursing your lips through your smile and avoiding Alycia's eye when you can feel her stare burning into you. You catch sight of the time on another woman's phone on the table and give Alycia a small nudge.
"We should be getting out of here soon, you have 'rem beauty' in the morning." It's true, but she also promised you a two hour maximum, so she doesn't have much of a choice.
"Right," she sighs, turning to you fully and then taking your hand in hers. You resist the urge to pull away. "I'll see you guys soon, we should do a dinner, or something."
She leaves to a chorus of goodbyes, pulling you with her to the elevator. You shake your hand free from hers as the doors close.
"That wasn't so bad," you tell her, throwing her a bone even though you're not sure why you bother. Maybe to keep things smooth for your last couple of days to avoid the exhaustion of fighting.
Alycia makes a noncommittal sound and then clicks her tongue.
"Who's the girl?"
You turn to look at her, one eyebrow raising in disbelief.
"The girl? Your girlfriend?"
"I don't have a girlfriend, Alycia," you remind her as the elevator opens on the lobby and the pair of you step out. "I had a girlfriend, but you know how that went."
"Oh, please," she scoffs, continuing for the door. "Whatever you want to call it, then. Who is it? Anyone I know?"
"No," you reply shortly, following her out onto the street.
She considers this as she taps away on her phone and then amends her question.
"Anyone I know of?"
"I don't know, Alycia," you lie. You can see her racking her brain and part of you wants to tell her just to see the look of confusion on her face. She's undoubtedly thinking of influencers from LA that you might get along with. Maybe even athletes that Jade might know. "There's no... I don't have a girlfriend. If I did, by the way, it would be none of your business."
"Well are you dating?" She presses, nodding to the car that pulls up in front of you. You reflexively open the door for her without thinking and slide in behind her.
"Yes," you reply sharply.
She looks surprised, then shrugs as she drops your gaze.
"Just seems kind of quick," she corrects herself before you can, which surprises you, "I mean quick for you. Not like you."
"I'm trying to remember what having fun is like," you reply, a little meanly but not letting yourself soften it. You turn your gaze out the window and watch the views of downtown pass you.
Alycia doesn't speak for the rest of the car ride and when you get home to return to your new bedroom - next to the desktop computer and boxes of PR and treadmill, you feel drained.
Laying on the air mattress still in your cocktail dress, you tug your phone out and laugh to yourself at the missed texts.
'That all I get?'
'[Y/N]!!'
You hear the sound of the shower turning on in the bathroom connected to the bedroom and grin, hitting 'call' and pulling your phone down to your ear.
Kathryn picks up on the second ring, with a rasp in her voice that you weren't expecting, and you immediately sit up to undo your dress lest you ruin it.
"Hello?"
"What're you doing?" You ask immediately, unable to keep the grin out of your voice.
"Nothing, I was just-" She sounds nervous, and you feel an unfamiliar surge of excitement.
"Kathryn," your tone is half-scolding, half-theatrics.
She half-laughs and half-whines. You can hear her embarrassment and you're surprised with how much it turns you on. You're usually the one on the receiving end - and enjoying it - but her flusteredness is making you feel unexpectedly naughty.
"You must've thought I was watching you on hidden camera with my timing," you muse. It draws an involuntary laugh out of her and you close your eyes to picture you're actually there teasing her in person.
"Cut it out," she huffs. You can picture the specific way her jaw would be clenching to try to keep the smile at bay, the way she'd immediately be bringing her hands to her face and dropping your gaze.
"Oh, I'm sorry. Should I leave you to it?"
The whining laugh she lets out is delicious, you wish you could listen to it on loop. It's some kind of insanity how one woman can bring you to crazed arousal and cuteness aggression at the same time with so little effort.
"C'mon," you coax. "Tell me what you were thinking about."
Finally free from the dress you roll over, nude, and rest on your stomach. A quick glance at the door tells you it's locked, just in case you become too distracted to hear the shower stop, so you reach into your essentials bag from
the LA trip and pull your vibrator free.
She sighs on the other end of the line and then responds, "That first night."
You shuffle beneath your sheet and get comfortable.
"At the cabin?"
"Yeah," she exhales like she's melting, and you feel your mouth go dry at the image it conjures up. "You were so... determined. When you first came knocking I was going to send you back to bed but it was like..." She trails off and her breath hitches.
"Like I was starving," you finish for her. She makes some sound of agreement that's not quite a 'yes'. "And I was."
You click your vibrator on and the buzzing is louder than you anticipated.
Kathryn's breath stutters into a laugh.
"Are you touching yourself?" Her tone is teasing, turning that 'caught' feeling back onto you and forcing you to close your eyes and bite your lip.
"Yes," you admit, lowering the vibrator to yourself and rocking it softly back and forth against your entrance. "Is that not what we're doing?"
"Oh, no, I'm watching the news," Kathryn replies, lying with a laugh. You mirror it and then groan at the feeling of your stomach tightening pleasantly.
"Hm, don't make me laugh," you complain.
"There's a request I never thought I'd hear from you."
Your cheeks heat up pleasantly and you feel a single drop of sweat roll down the back of your bent leg.
"Shut up. Keep talking about the cabin."
She tsks softly, but continues.
"I was just thinking about what would've happened if you had let me return the favor. Though, knowing what I know now that might've been a nail in the coffin for getting caught. You are a vocal little thing, aren't you?"
You moan softly, proving her point.
"Says you," you breathe. "'M still thinking about how you taste. Addictive."
She stops talking for a beat and you exhale sharply into the receiver.
"You close, baby?"
She almost cuts you off with her high-pitched moan. Your jaw drops and you scramble to shut off the vibrator at the sound of the shower squeaking off as well, and clutch the phone to your ear to listen to the other woman bringing herself to orgasm.
You savor it, closing your eyes and willing the distractions away as she comes down, and then chuckles into your ear.
"I didn't realize how much I needed that," she tells you.
"Well," you breathe, voice cracking a little. "I'm living vicariously through you - sounded like a good one."
She laughs again at your blunt wording and you hear her shifting around before she speaks again.
"When are you back? I'm more than happy to share the wealth, you know."
At this rate, you're going to fall in love before the end of your first month together.
"Truck comes Wednesday, I'm hoping to leave in the afternoon so I can get in before bed."
"You want to come to a party on Friday? If you're all... sponsored-events-'d out, I get it."
You sit up. "Really?"
"Yeah. You can come over, I'll feed you, glam team will take care of you and we'll go."
"As your..." You trail off and you hear the other woman fidgeting.
"I know we're not exactly... I just... it could still be fun."
"Hey," you interject calmly, "Seriously, my feelings aren't hurt about the private life thing." You hear Alycia pass in the hall and pause her steps so you lower your voice. "I get it, you don't have to dance around it, just keep me in the loop."
Kathryn exhales.
"Alright," then more seriously: "Thank you."
You smile and lay back again, staring up at the ceiling.
-
You make it through most of Wednesday unscathed. Alycia picks a fight about the coffee table, you fold and let her keep it. You and Riley can hit up an estate sale once you're more settled in: the important things are your desk for studying and the couch as a catch-all for napping, eating, and relaxing.
Alycia makes you promise to text her when you get to the airbnb so she doesn't have to look you up in the obituaries and after an awkward, stilted goodbye, you're on the road.
It's a later start than you wanted and by the time you're finished helping the movers at your new storage unit, it's past the window to check in for the night.
'??? Alive?'
Alycia's text comes in just as you're pulling out your phone to make a decision on where to stay.
'Missed check in,' you reply. 'Staying with friends tonight.'
You pull up your conversation from that day with Riley and then pause, closing it and opening the thread with Kathryn instead.
'Can't wait to have you back' stares up at you on the screen from your last conversation and you grin, shaking it off to type out:
'Could I ask you a favor?'
She replies as you're locking up the unit and climbing back into your car, with just the gate code to her house and an eye-rolling emoji.
You feel like you find her place by muscle memory; in your defense you only get turned around once or twice and since it's later in the evening you manage to find parking without much issue. Hauling your overnight bag out of the trunk, you head up to the gate just as you get another text.
'I have an early morning but I'll make it up to you.'
As wonderful as a passionate, heated fuckfest of a reunion would be, you find that the idea of going straight to bed in Kathryn's arms to be equally as appealing of an idea.
Not bothering to answer the text you let yourself in and toe your worn out shoes off at the door. You're also not at what you'd consider your sexiest - bruised and scraped, worn and comfy clothes for the physical labor and the drive.
Your bag digs into your tired shoulders and you drop it roughly to the floor at your feet.
"He-" You don't get to finish your greeting before Kathryn's head pokes over the railing at the top of the stairs, and then she quickly begins making her way down.
"Ugh, I missed you," she says heavily, pulling you close and wrapping her arms around you. You melt into her immediately, then tuck your face into her neck. You can feel yourself tearing up, the emotional release of finally being here and having made your clean break hitting you all at once. You choke back the desire to cry and nuzzle into her a little more. She pulls back enough to kiss your cheek, clutching your face and then kissing your forehead, then your lips, then your other cheek. You scrunch your nose and laugh, wriggling away from her a little but it only makes her double down, arms shooting down to wrap around your body again. "No."
You slump defeatedly into her again and then slide your hands up the back of her sleep-shirt, desperate to just be a little closer still.
"I am so happy to do this all night, but could we do it horizontally? Preferably in bed. I feel like one giant knot."
"Right," she pulls away with a little laugh but still just stares at you for a moment before shaking her head with a smile and turning to the stairs. With an arm still around you, she asks, "Did you eat? Do you want something to help you sleep?"
You shake your head, tucked into her side happily. "I'm fine."
She doubles back to get your bag for you and then sits on her bed while you undress and tiredly tell her about the day. You leave out the argument with Alycia even though you can tell she's dying to ask about her. You're too tired to entertain that line of questioning for the night so you let her stew in her curiosity and climb up to straddle her lap.
"I missed you so much," you say. You can hear the heaviness of your own words but you can't dial back the intensity. It's reflected in how she's looking at you, so much understanding it makes you want to cry again.
"Now you don't have to," she tells you instead. Her hands glide over your waist to your hips as she takes you in and then frowns in concern. "Where did you get all of these bruises? You join a fight club?"
You laugh in surprise when she grips your hips and flops you over onto the bed, hovering over you beside you.
"I don't know when the last time you moved was, but it's basically a contact sport out there, now," you reply, carding a hand into her hair as she rolls up your shirt carefully and worriedly touches the red welt across your lower belly from where you tried to wedge yourself out the door with a large box pressed to you.
You're vaguely aware of the sting but she's trying so hard to be careful that it's horseshoed into torture.
"Hehehey-" You grab her hand and wriggle backward from her in the same moment, alerting her to the misstep. She chuckles apologetically and pulls her hand back to explore some more of your new injuries in potentially less-ticklish places.
"Guess a short dress might be out of the question for Friday," she says, nodding to your legs.
You prop yourself up on your elbows in time to see her dust her fingers over your knee and you shake like she just performed a reflex test. Her eyes flick up to yours in worry that she's hurt you but when she sees your grin her expression softens to endearment.
"God, you're weird."
You laugh and whine all at once.
"Back when I used to think I could actually put all the spots in list order, I always used to think my knees were the worst," you tell her. "It's like... a top 5 spot for most people I think."
"For weird people," she corrects. You squirm closer and squeeze her knee; she lets out a sound halfway between a yelp and a squawk, writhing back in shock. Not wanting to miss your chance, you squeeze a second time, this time earning a harmless kick in the leg as she lets out a couple of short giggles.
"See?" You laugh as she grabs and tosses your hands aside, descending on your ribs with terrifyingly devastating accuracy. "Ow, wait-"
She stops immediately, hands freezing and the concerned look returning to her face. Her hands slip into the hem of your shirt to push it the rest of the way up but you can't keep it together, giggling at the knowledge that she's not going to find any more injuries.
"You faker!" She pokes at you a couple of times, drawing more nervous laughter out of you as she gathers your hands up in hers.
"It's psychosomatic!" You lie dramatically.
"Oh, please." She lowers her head to your torso as she pins your hands on either side of you and nips at your ribs. You shriek, but her upperbody holds you fairly still in combination with your wrists under her hands. She pauses and even her breath on your skin tickles when she chuckles at your reaction before continuing to harmlessly scrape her teeth along and nibble at your ribs.
You're reduced to cackling when she switches sides after a beat, unable to form a coherent protest outside of 'no', and 'please', though even those simple single-syllable words are turning into a challenge.
You're already breathless when she drops her lips between your ribs, a couple of inches above your navel, but the panic revitalizes your ability to speak.
"Nooooo, nononono, I'm sorry," you promise. You can't get the grin off of your face but the whine in your voice is genuine. "Kathryn. Wait."
She does, lifting her head to you and loosening her grip on your hands.
"That's..." you chuckle at your own reaction. "Too much."
She sits up slightly so she's hovering over you, pulling your shirt back into place gently.
"That's where you draw the line?" She asks. Her tone is playful but you can tell she's taking you seriously.
"I don't know what it is about my stomach but it's like..." You lay back on the pillows to get comfy, feeling her slide up closer to you. "Panic? I don't know. Maybe some kind of past life trauma. I don't feel like unpacking it."
"I'll steer clear," she tells you, waiting until you face her to smile and kiss you. You grin into it and immediately wrap your arms around her neck to pull her down onto you.
It's not the ever-surface, clothes-tearing reunion that one might have expected but it feels just as intense. You know you're both going to have to just roll over and go to bed but you can't help but moan softly into her mouth, kissing her again and again each time she pulls away for air until she speaks again.
"I wasn't kidding about the early morning."
You pout as she crawls back to the side table and turns out the light, though it vanishes when she pulls you back into her and kisses you again, softer this time. It turns so lazy and gentle that you legitimately fall asleep face to face, wrapped loosely around her on top of the sheets.
because i do not have the mental energy to write a fic
agatha has ticklish legs. the only reason she was able to barely keep it together in ep 4 was bc rio was intentionally avoiding the good spots just to remind her she knows where they are :)
some of her scars are from wounds in spots that are usually unforgivably ticklish and letting rio heal them was a massive pain in the ass. rio still points out the century-old on scars her ribs and reminds her of the time she had to pin her down through borderline-hysterical giggling to lick them better. agatha maintains she remembers that story differently.
she usually laughs at irony or other people; it's a deeper, richer sound. when she's being tickled it gets very undignified and very giggly, very quickly.
she once took out a village while tied up and with them all dead she just had to lay around and wait for rio - who took advantage by tickling her into admitting it was a gift.
as for rio she's basically a walking ticklish spot. being such an integral part of nature she feels and senses everything deeply. and she wasn't kidding about pain tickling.
agatha absolutely has brought her to tears of laughter by dragging a blade over her stomach or ribs or neck
her soles and palms are deathly ticklish when tickled with intention. they're how she connects to the earth tacitly and she's in a constant state of elemental regeneration.
she kind of loves it. apart from it being physically overstimulating to be tickled relentlessly, she doesn't have the same hang-ups about composure and physical flaws and dignity that most mortals do; it sets off the same pleasure receptors for her that pain and affectionate touch do
rio is literally the only person on earth that knows agatha is ticklish at all. it's a title she wears with pride.
hi lovee, hope ur having a good day/night depending where u are!! if ur filling prompts could i possibly have 44 (or 82!), maybe based on the part of your hc list about agatha taking out a village for rio? maybe sfw in their salem era? 💖🌸 i love ur writing so even if this prompt isn't picked i'm excited to see what does get written!!
first of all you are SO sweet. also, this came out a little extra-soft because i just love how soft rio is when it comes to agatha and i am so obsessed with salem!agathario.
"You wouldn’t take advantage of that knowledge when I’m stuck like this, right?"
pairing: agathario (agatha all along)
wc: 2.2k
content & warnings: sfw, tickle fic, foot tickling, just fluff and VERY soft rio, lee!agatha
Rio felt the rain before the sky darkened. The air hadn't even cooled yet but the petrichor invaded her sinuses and made her feel whole, and clear. That wholeness in her body was dampened only by the ache of responsibility as she headed past the empty barn and farmhouse toward the pen of horses beside the thin, dirt road. Mud turned to sand beneath her dirty feet as she approached the fence and surveyed the scene before her. Horses, half a dozen of them, laid down in their field as if dead. She whistled, smiling when the one nearest her perked up his head to her and then slowly, agonizingly got to his feet. He approached her like he knew her, head hanging low as he came to a stop at the fence and let her brush his snout.
"Not yet, you dumb beast," she cooed at him softly, affectionate in tone despite being insulting in word. She glanced over at the smoke in the distance and then back at the length of road between herself and it. "I just need a ride, this time."
-
She let the creature go before she reached the edge of the forest that separated the farm from the town and wiped the dry mud from her feet and legs before heading off on her own. It still hadn't started to rain but the storm was brewing much more clearly now, the sky darker in warning.
"Took you long enough."
Rio heard the complaint from several yards away, laughing out loud as the ground turned from dirt to cobblestone beneath her feet, then back again. She wandered in no hurry to the massive statue that stood in the center of what she assumed had to have been the town square, and slowed to a stop in front of Agatha Harkness, bound at the base of it. Her arms were outstretched to either side of her, with a length of rope tied to each wrist and joining in the back of the statue out of Rio's view. Her posture was stuck in an L shape, legs stretched out before her on the ground where she sat, though slightly slumped in defeat and likely boredom from waiting around with no one left alive to free her.
"Had to make a few stops along the way. I can't drop everything every time you need some attention. There's an order to these things. What... are you wearing?"
She cocked her head to the side as she finally looked at the other woman properly — her dress was torn slightly, her hair down and wild the way Rio liked it, though definitely not the way she usually kept it while out in public. Despite that bit of indignity, she still wore gloves, her shoes sticking out from beneath the hem of her dress.
"I was... ambushed," The witch admitted.
Only then did Rio notice her appearance even more fully. Her cheeks were tear-stained, her eyes red and lips swollen. She'd been crying, before Rio had arrived. Guilt swirled in the air between them and Rio felt an angry stab in her chest. This hadn't been entirely on purpose.
"Well..." Rio began, coming closer still and then crouching down in front of the other woman. "They certainly picked the wrong fight. This is all very romantic. The gifts, setting the mood." She gestured around and grinned when the witch before her snorted and dropped her gaze.
She reached out and lifted her chin softly to look at her seriously. The sadness was still there, the confusion and the hurt in the aftermath of what she'd done, but it was already being packed away, Rio could see that. She could also see that little spark, the thrill that they were together and that made it very worth it.
Wordlessly, she reached out to one of Agatha's hands and she sat up a little in anticipation of her hand being untied. Instead, Rio removed her glove and kissed the fingers that had just caused so much loss. She smiled against her skin when Agatha's hand twitched beneath her lips, unable to hurt her even if she wanted to. She moved around to the other hand and repeated the gesture, then sat back and hummed.
"Now you almost look like a witch again," she observed. Leaning in, she kissed her once, softly, and then leaned back and shook her head. "No, not quite."
She dropped her gaze down her legs and then moved to sit at them, pulling the other woman's shins across her lap as she settled in contently in the dirt.
Agatha made a small noise of protest but she was used to the other woman's games well enough to know that letting her continue whatever odd little ritual she had started would be the path of least resistance.
"Stupid things," Rio muttered, tugging her shoes off gently and tossing them aside in annoyance. She dipped her head and softly kissed the tops of each of her feet in turn and looked up in time to see her smile, a gesture that caused her own to bloom across her lips.
"Better?" Agatha questioned, one eyebrow raising. "More... witchy?"
"Much," Rio said decisively. "Which really only leaves the issue of you feeling like one."
She reached up and brushed a little piece of Agatha's hair from her face and then ran her fingers down her cheek and jaw, brushing her thumb over the dried tears there. The other woman was as still as death as she stared back at her, so intense that it made her own breath catch.
"I do," she replied, and Rio could hear her pained honesty.
"Then feeling like the witch you are, I'll amend," Rio said decisively.
"You could start with untying me."
Her tone was sarcastic, not truly irritated despite her terrible attempt at conveying so. Rio gave her a grin and shook her head.
"Nel," Rio turning her attention back to her feet dangling from her lap. "Not until I can cheer you up, amante. Are you still very ticklish? Hasn't been stifled by years of being oppressed into something as pedestrian as shoes, I hope."
She barely touched the sole of her foot when she yanked both of her feet out of the green witch's lap with a gasp, slamming them to the ground between them.
Rio gave her a surprised, amused look and effortlessly picked up her ankles once more, pulling them across her lap and then deciding to scissor her legs around her calves to hold them more still when she started to fight back.
"So that is a 'yes', on still very ticklish," she confirmed, dusting the bottoms of her feet softly with her palm to remove the fresh dirt and drawing nervous, anticipatory squirms out of her.
"You wouldn’t take advantage of that knowledge when I’m stuck like this, right?" Agatha's tone had lost all of its haughtiness; Rio watched as she nervously wet her lips and then tried as subtly as possible to test her bonds again. She tsked softly.
"Mi amor, I would never take advantage of you. Unless it was for your own good." That was all the warning she gave Agatha before tickling her in earnest, and laughing out loud with her when she was forced to tighten her legs to keep her still.
She considered stopping at the sight of Agatha writhing against the base of the statue, worried she might hit her head or that her back might be sore from however long she had been waiting there but the genuine smile on her face was enough to keep her going. She tickled lightly enough that her laughter stayed light to match it, even with her squirming for her life and tugging helplessly at her feet it was one of the prettiest sounds Rio had heard in ages.
A far cry from the usual crying from bystanders and victims of loss that she was used to in her day to day tasks, the sight of her lover squealing and giggling her name, disingenuously cursing her and threatening her for daring to scratch and tease her way up and down the arches of her feet made Rio feel drunk with love.
Giving her just a tiny moment of reprieve she stopped her tickling and then readjusted her grip, pressing her thumb to the ball of one foot and steadying it against her lap, letting her heel press into her leg as she adjusted her position.
As she caught her breath, Agatha whined and gave another futile tug at her ankle. She nearly freed the foot that Rio wasn't focused on but they both knew it wouldn't matter in a moment.
"Please," she panted. "Mercy."
It was a playful request; Agatha Harkness did not seriously beg for anyone, anymore, and while the playful torture was overwhelming, it was certainly not where she would draw the line in the sand.
Her dramatics made Rio chuckle to herself. She loved to play with her, but more than anything she loved the way that Agatha loved it - and she knew more than anyone how much she needed it.
"I haven't even gotten to the best part," Rio reminded her, smirking before focusing all of her attention on her toes. The other woman writhed and wriggled so much that she was practically doing the work herself - Rio was pretty sure if she held her fingers still Agatha would just tickle herself on them in all of her struggling.
She came unglued in her laughter, borderline cackling as she slumped in the ropes and lost all ability to swear and threaten.
This was the witch killer that everyone feared - this beautiful woman, crying from guilt at what she'd done that came happily undone at the hands of her lover playing with her like a child, with only the intention to hear her laugh again. The idea burned angrily in the back of Rio's mind but she squashed it down, focusing instead as best she could on the woman before her. They only had so much time, anyway.
"That's not fair, it's not fair!" Agatha's voice was closer to a sob than a scream but Rio could feel her heart; she could feel the way it swelled in happiness and much more importantly, relief.
"You're right, I think the other one is jealous," Rio agreed, soothingly rubbing the sole of her foot as she left her toes alone and then setting it down in her lap as she reached for the other one.
"No," Agatha moaned, already giggling and turning to hide her face in her bound arm.
"Now, you'll have to remind me which foot was more ticklish," Rio said conversationally, fluttering her fingers up the sole of it as she changed her grip once more to match the previous position.
Agatha choked on a hard laugh and pulled hard, though it didn't free her. Rio gasped dramatically.
"Oh, don't tell me it's this one. This might be really awful."
She grinned at the defeated groan of protest the other woman let out, then dug her fingers in beneath her toes once more.
Agatha's already wild hair had covered her face again despite Rio's earlier efforts to tame it. She laughed until her voice was hoarse, she squirmed until she couldn't anymore, and only when fresh tears replaced the dried ones from earlier did Rio finally have the previously begged for mercy - even if the request had initially been a joke.
She grinned at the exhausted woman, setting her feet down softly and then tickling the arches of them once more, just briefly like she was checking if she was faking her defeat. When the other woman could only muster a tired laugh and barely even twitch away she stopped, soothing the phantom tingling by firmly rubbing both soles with the palms of her hands. She leaned over and kissed her knees each and then slid even closer still to untie her, and press soft kisses to the redness on her wrists.
"Luckily for you," she told the witch, "I do have a job to do, so you're free to go for now."
Agatha immediately leaned into her, burying her face into her neck and wrapping her arms tightly around her. Rio's own arms slipped around her waist and pulled her closer still, not minding the discomfort of the intensity of the embrace. She only pulled away when she felt Agatha's grip loosening in her own tiredness, standing up and bringing the other woman with her.
"Come on, we'll start in the town and see if we can find a quicker way back to the farms." She took her hand in hers, leading her around the statue and toward the first building with its door ajar still from the earlier chaos.
Agatha tugged at the ripped material on the skirt of her dress with her free hand, letting a large chunk of it fall to the ground next to her gloves where she'd been bound. She turned back to Rio, then tightened her grip on their linked hands, so the pair of them could walk away together, expensive material, gloves, and shoes unneeded.
I loved your Agathario fics, could you do a sfw story with prompt 99? Nsfw is fine also!
thank you for the request!
"Don't make me get your (worst spot)"
pairing: agathario (agatha all along)
wc: 1.2k
content & warnings: sfw, tickle fic, 'pain tickles' but as a literal trope because it's so fun, lee!rio
"Be still," Agatha huffed in irritation, pressing the heel of her hand to Rio's shoulder and holding her gently in place against the worn wooden floor of the living room.
The other woman shifted again, though this time to settle into her spot more comfortably. Her eyes closed and she took a deep breath, then finally stopped fidgeting.
"Thank you," Agatha sighed, not a hint of real gratitude in her voice. She returned to her earlier position and raised her hands, a thread of light dripping down from one of them like honey; it oozed across Rio's shoulder and rolled toward the crevice of her underarm where her arm was tucked firmly to her side, and she jerked under the sensation. The thread vanished and both women groaned simultaneously.
"Can you focus?" Agatha pleaded.
"Aim it somewhere less ticklish," Rio snapped back, rolling her eyes. "It itches. It's a reflex."
"We're going about this the wrong way, roll over."
Grumbling to herself, Rio swiped a throw cushion from the couch above them and did as she was asked, turning over onto her stomach and turning to watch Agatha as she repositioned herself.
"Don't look at me, it's distracting," she muttered. Rio stifled a snort and turned her head the other way, tense in anticipation.
She felt it a brief moment later, the same tingling sensation, starting in the center of her back and then trickling down, liquid-like, to pool in her lower back as it followed the arch of her spine. She didn't dare speak, not until she was sure enough of it had latched onto her, lest Agatha lose her hold on it again.
The longer it stayed pooled there, and the more of it she could feel joining, the more clear the ache became through the cold tingling sensation. A low-grade pain spell, something simple to conjure and difficult to maintain through distraction. It was light work for Agatha but she'd been practicing how to manipulate its intensity once the thread was broken - something Rio was the perfect test dummy for, when she wasn't squirming so much that it couldn't latch on.
The ache spread outward to her hips and Rio let out a soft moan of approval at the sensation. It felt like having undissolvable knots in her muscles, a pain that felt exquisite.
"How's that?" Agatha asked softly.
"It's working."
The sensation spread but weakened, Rio could feel the magic clinging to her now and ignoring the physics. Slowly she sat up, movements deliberate and careful, and watched as the light travelled around her torso, shivering as it danced up her neck and scraped at her scalp. And it grew, covering more and more of her until she was squirming restlessly.
It itched at the spot under her shoulders she couldn't reach herself, comforted like a hug in her back and perhaps the hardest to ignore of all: tickled its way up her ribs to her underarms with consistent, fluttering strokes.
She giggled, head tilting back, helpless against the sensation; even with her arms tight to her sides it made no difference - she knew that, too, but each time she tried to move her arms to steady herself against the floor she reflexively drew them back in to try to still the feathers that weren't there.
Agatha continued to keep her focus, determined. As twisted as it was that Rio was enjoying herself so much, it was also sweet and distracting, and any lapse in her concentration would only mean they needed to start over. With the other woman's torso surrounded by swirling light, she let the thread break and watched as the spell continued even in the absence of her direct manipulation.
She willed it lower, watching it pool around the other woman's stomach and chuckled despite herself when what would have had anyone else doubled over in pain made Rio double over in giggles, falling helplessly back to the floor and uselessly wrap her arms around herself.
The glow burned brighter and her laughter turned into squeals - Agatha took pity for a brief moment as she noted how hoarse her voice was already becoming. The glow brightened and then faded nearly to nothing, still there but more aura-like than any notable presence.
Rio groaned as she flopped onto her back, rolling her shoulders uncomfortably.
"This is the torture," She complained. "The itch."
"I'll have to keep that in mind for you for the future," Agatha mused, an empty threat meant to tease more than instill any real sense of danger.
"Assuming you can get through casting it without me being dead silent, still, and not making eye contact," Rio replied tauntingly, pushing herself to sit up and writhing in her spot at the constant itching. Her arms and legs twitched involuntarily, her jaw setting tensely like she were trying to will herself not to feel it.
"Don't make me get your feet, I'm still curious about the spread on this," Agatha threatened, genuine that time.
Rio laughed, amused at getting under her skin. With a roll of her eyes, she gestured down her legs in invitation. The glow brightened at once and she fell back against the cushion, laughing the entire way in its travel down from her ribs to her thighs and knees to settle in around her ankles and feet.
She pulled them back behind her, though there was no where to hide.
"That's awful," she managed between giggles. She heaved herself forward enough to cling to Agatha's lap for some relief, burying her face in her knee to muffle herself as she tried to give herself over to the sensations.
Warmth covered the soles of her feet and she could tell it was meant to burn. Curious, tapping touches covered the tops of her feet and made her kick out against nothing at how wildly ticklish it was, that should have pierced the thin, sensitive skin there but it was lost on her. She recognized the deep, scrubbing sensation covering her heels and arches — she'd walked across broken glass only a few days prior when she hadn't noticed a broken wine glass in the kitchen: same sensation. Even then, it had nearly made her knees buckle, giggling hysterically even when Agatha came rushing to try to remove the pieces for her.
She curled her toes tightly to the to block out the sensation of the stems of them being teased with attentive caresses. To feel like breaking them, if she had to take an educated guess. It was hard to focus on much memory or logic — there was no physical force there to harm her, or in this case tickle her. Just the magic going its job of convincing her brain of what was happening. It was torture. It was delicious.
Agatha only stopped when she felt the wetness on her leg of tears, the glow vanishing almost immediately in her distraction and leaving Rio a sweating, panting mess.
She brushed a thumb over the other woman's cheek when she lifted her head to grin dizzily at her, wiping away a rogue tear.
"You're getting good," she said honestly.
"Thank you," Agatha replied, sarcasm gone and replaced with rare, tender appreciation.
"D'you think a tickling spell would hurt? Or maybe I wouldn't feel it at all."
"One way to find out," she replied, sitting up straighter and nodding to the abandoned pillow on the floor and lifting her hands. "Lay back down."
I don't know if you're taking requests but I would like to know if you could make tickle headcanons for America Chavez from the MCU? Or Marvel universe.
I’ve had miscellaneous headcanon thoughts about America in different posts over the past 2 years, but haven’t properly compiled them. So, not doing a lot of requests right now, but sure! Most of the work is already done.
America Chavez
Ticklishness Rating: 8/10
Most Ticklish Spots: Armpits, Tummy, Heels
A total switch. The most switchiest. If you look up “switch” in the dictionary etc. etc. etc.
She’s tickled (or tried to tickle) every single superhero she’s met at least once.
Gets super giggly and flustered when she’s on the receiving end of Yelena’s infamous tickle attacks, but she likes them. In fact, she actively tries to tempt the new Black Widow with preemptive strikes and raised arms.
Very squirmy. Laughs loud & never holds it in.
Discovered the existence of the online “t-word community” shortly after arrival on Earth-616, and it made her absolutely giddy. (She thinks her Young-Avengers besties know nothing Jon Snow about her secret t-word blog but yes they do.)
She’s been trying to subtly introduce Kamala to tickle fanfics. America hasn’t written any herself but she’s read plenty.
Final results are in, and Peni Parker was the “winner” of the elimination round…sorry, gal pal. Ms. Joke is the one I expected to drop out; she’s totally gonna cheat with that quirk of hers.
Here’s your official roster for the Superhero Girls Tickle Tournament!
These are going to be a series of brief one-one-one drabbles, where warriors can use any tool or power at their disposal to see which of them will get the last laugh.
The only suggestion for potential matchups that I’ve gotten so far is Gwen vs. Ladybug and Black Widow vs. Ms. Joke - and I’m totally on board for that if you all are. 😆
So, any more ideas? Who do you think would be a fun pairing for a tickle fight, and who do you think would win? What would you like me to write?
Just for the sake of clarity, I’m not picturing a Roger Rabbit-type scenario where real life humans are interacting with cartoon characters or something like that. 😆 Some superheroes have wildly-different variations, and these ones are sort of how I want the reader to interpret these characters in my story, if that makes sense? Their backstories, abilities, personalities, skill levels, voices, etc. These are the baseline in my imagination.
