Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

‘She is my scar.’ Rio said softly, turning to trace her eyes over Agatha’s still form next to her on the log. Agatha held her features stony and cold, betraying no emotion despite the tumult of feeling racing through her.

The other witches cast a questioning gaze in her direction, and that was enough for the old fear to set in. They had just been laughing together, the coven finally growing closer, in a way that made Agatha anxious. She had spent thousands of years building up walls that were being torn down gradually ever since the sudden arrival of Teen in her life a few short days ago (could it really only be days?).

They somehow didn’t seem to automatically understand what Rio and Agatha were to each other, despite the tension rolling off them in waves. From the moment Rio had been spawned from the muck at the side of the Road, Agatha had been in panic mode. She was hardly subtle, marching straight up to Agatha, offering her a flower and calling her ‘My lady’. Agatha has been fighting the pull towards her ever since.

Jen’s wish for a pleasant looking witch had certainly been granted. Rio somehow still looked extremely good with her hair all mussed, grime and twigs on her face and clothing. Alice and Jen’s clear attraction to the green witch and Rio’s playful responses to them should have clued them in on her preferences, but they were all dense as hell according to Agatha. Yeah, she would be lying if she said their flirting hadn’t fucking pissed her off too. As if Rio would stoop so low. But maybe she would? Who knows, it had been years since their paths had crossed. Years since Nicky.

Thinking back on it, Rio had been so useless at the second trial. It’s like she didn’t care about anything but getting under Agatha’s skin, riling her up, trying to get her to snap. It didn’t help she practically had her perfect tits out in Agatha’s face. At least she wasn’t the only one. She hadn’t missed Rio’s eyes running all over her body in the mirror, goosebumps popping up in their wake.

Rio had leaned in close behind her.

‘Boo,’ she had said, attention-seeking and annoying, trying to draw Agatha into her games. Agatha had whipped around and given her her best ‘behave yourself’ glare that she used to use on Rio all the time.

‘No.’ She had stopped Rio there, silently warning her it was the wrong place, wrong time, secretly getting off on the subtle hurt and immediate submission in Rio’s eyes.

Agatha had played her own game in the recording booth, pretending to flirt with the green witch to trick her into revealing her intentions to the coven. It had worked, but the line of fire on her upper thigh from Rio’s gentle trace was no pretence.

‘Old times,’ said suggestively as she did it conjured up a flurry of images Agatha had done her best to forget. Somehow Rio had won that one and Agatha had stormed out of there before she could lose herself in their old ways, trial be damned.

Agatha had fucked up. She had run to Teen as soon as the curse threw him back against the glass, but held herself back from racing to his side at just the last second. A glance to Rio confirmed she hadn’t seen the mistake, but she wasn’t so lucky the second time. Teen was motionless and cool to the touch, blood blooming on his abdomen. For one awful moment Agatha had seen his teenager’s body grow small and present itself to her as her baby Nicky, dead on the floor. Blinking hot tears away destroyed that image, and Agatha was unable to pretend she wasn’t desperate for Teen to survive. Image be damned, she cared for the boy.

‘Don’t!’ she had cried out to Rio, struck by a paralysing fear that she would simply stoop down and sweep Teen’s soul away right then and there.

She’d picked Nicky’s up so gently.

This time, Agatha didn’t miss Rio’s curious eyes as she shook her head slightly, dispelling Agatha’s distress and confirming it wasn’t yet Teen’s time.

Hours later, she hadn’t left Teen’s side. She would be damned if he died on her watch, not another of her boys. A stirring from the young familiar pulled her out of her reverie, walls slamming up, expression of indifference plastered on. Agatha had a feeling he’d seen through it, sensed her worry for him through her fake smile. No, she hadn’t put the sigil on him. His name didn’t matter, and she told him so, allowing him this one comfort and nicety after his close call. Then he had to spoil it by bringing up Nicky. Yeah, fuck that.

She had headed back to the coven, picking her way over rocks and dirt to the log where Rio was sitting. Conveniently, there was a large spot left for her on Rio’s right. The flower she’d conjured for her was resting there, as if she’d saved Agatha a seat. She probably had. Agatha was careful to pick it up, to hold it gently between her fingers and keep the petals intact as she showed her scar to the others.

Then Rio had spoken up. ‘I have a scar.’

‘No, you don’t,’ Agatha had scoffed, too quickly to process the implications the statement would have, her mind racing through her catalogue of Rio’s naked body. She flushed privately, turning her head to the floor to hide her pink cheeks. Again, the coven seemed oblivious.

So yeah, ‘She’s my scar,’ fucking hurt. The worst part was, Agatha knew Rio well enough to know she wasn’t lying. Her eyes found Rio’s next to her, and that was too much, too soon after what she’d just heard.

Stomach churning, she stumbled up. ‘I’m going to stretch my legs.’

Agatha found a quiet spot, facing the rocks and the mist beyond the patch of the Road where they planned to spend the night. Her hands were shaking and her heart was fucking pounding. She didn’t turn at the snapping of twigs behind her, knowing instinctually it was Rio. She didn’t think she could hold onto her self-control much longer.

She was so tightly coiled, her back so tense, that at Rio’s gentle fingers caressing the hair at the back of her head, Agatha moaned. She actually let out a fucking moan. She wasn’t even embarrassed. Rio knew her better than anyone, and she had to be aware of how much Agatha wanted her, how much she craved her touch.

The last scraps of her sanity slipped away as she turned to face the green witch, her eyeshadow shimmering softly in the moonlight. Agatha didn’t waste a second before burying her eager hands into Rio’s soft hair in turn, gripping her by the base of her skull. Rio fell into her embrace without hesitation, Agatha’s hand a calming weight on her head.

The two witches swayed softly together, both exhaling gently as they allowed themselves to melt into each other. This was their first hug in years, together and alone. Agatha’s hand slipped further up Rio’s head to cradle her crown, pulling her in more frantically, as her other hand pressed into her back. Rio’s eyes were shut tight, holding back tears as she let herself be held, her own hand tracing soft circles into Agatha’s back.

‘My baby,’ Agatha whispered into her hair, choking on her emotion. ‘Sweet girl,’

Rio shuddered against her, pulling away reluctantly. She couldn’t wait another moment to say what she needed to say. The thought of Agatha holding her, touching her like this as just some kind of twisted thank you for bringing back their son, gutted her. It had to be real. Real or nothing.

Agatha’s gentle fingers came up to hold Rio’s face, tilting her jaw up as her dark eyes flitted to Rio’s lips. Oh fuck, she was really going to kiss her.

Agatha was shaking all over, relief and arousal and love, terrible, unwanted love rushing through her body. She just held her baby close for the first time in centuries. She had heard Rio’s little whimpers as she allowed the older witch to comfort her. She so missed when Rio was like this, all soft and pliant and wanting to be fussed over.

Agatha leaned in to connect their lips, her breath fanning over Rio’s mouth.

‘Agatha.’ Rio spoke carefully.

Agatha paused, taking in the subtle change in Rio’s face, black eyes clearing with the need to say something. She never called her Agatha unless it was something serious.

‘Hmm?’ she murmured, distracted eyes falling again to Rio’s lips.

‘That,’ Rio whispered, barely audible.

Agatha swayed forward, drawn like a magnet to her mouth.

‘That boy isn’t yours.’ Rio said firmly, softening the blow with a gentle raise of her eyebrows. Her hand stroked up and down Agatha’s arm where she was gripping her wrists to comfort her. Agatha drew back hesitantly, eyes betraying her sadness. The sadness she covered all day long.

‘Rio,’ she breathed, then cleared her throat to speak with more conviction.

‘I know Teen’s not mine. He’s not our son. He’s not Nicky.’ Agatha stated the same painful words three ways to drive it home for both herself and Rio. ‘I know that,’ she whispered softly, recognising Rio’s statement as some kind of warped consent check, making sure they both had all the facts.

Rio’s face broke into a smile of relief. Agatha wasn’t trying to thank her, she just wanted her, plain and simple.

She didn’t waste a second before stepping back into Agatha’s space, eyes dropping to the older witch’s lips. Agatha smirked, sadness forgotten. Her strong hands cupped Rio’s jaw again, tugging her forward in a show of height and dominance.

Rio whimpered, turning her face up to Agatha’s desperately.

Agatha didn’t delay any further, crashing her lips onto Rio’s, tongue immediately delving into her soft, warm mouth. Rio moaned into her, sucking gently on the tip of Agatha’s tongue. Agatha pulled away, chest heaving and lips buzzing with heat. Rio whined pitifully at the loss, before realising what Agatha was doing. She was looking around and behind them for somewhere to lie down. That simple realisation made Rio’s belly flood with heat, and her gaze found a mossy bank just to their right.

With wordless communication, they stumbled towards it, bodies still pressed together, Agatha’s hand round Rio’s neck, reluctant to break away for even a second.

‘Lie down, sweetheart.’ Agatha’s voice was calm and collected to the untrained ear, but Rio could hear the underlying tremor in her words.

Rio flung herself to the floor with embarrassing speed, shimmying on her back underneath Agatha until she was lying against the moss, head propped up on a rock.

Jesus, Agatha was looking at her like she wanted to eat her. She might just.

Rio shook silently, momentarily overwhelmed by their closeness, by Agatha’s softness.

‘Agatha,’ she whispered, reaching for the older witch.

Agatha dropped to her knees, gazing at Rio with an expression akin to worship. Her fingers were making quick work of her own blouse, pulling at the last few buttons to reveal bare skin. When her shirt was up and off her shoulders, she leant down over Rio, hands roaming all over her body.

‘Love this,’ Agatha muttered into Rio’s ear, palming at her through her black bodysuit. The rough cadence of her voice went straight to Rio’s groin. ‘Everyone wanted you today. Except maybe the kid.’

‘Yours,’ Rio breathed, incapable of a full sentence.

Agatha loved her like this.

Agatha tilted Rio’s jaw upwards, kissing her again softly before her hand slipped down to cover Rio’s throat, a reminder of their fight. It made Rio moan, one long wanton noise which got louder as Agatha’s lips slipped across her face, nosing at her neck and mouthing across her collarbone. She was so wet.

Suddenly, it was unbearable, and Rio grabbed her wrist, slipping Agatha’s hand under her clothing until her fingers made contact with the wet heat between her legs.

‘Fuck,’ Agatha breathed, unable to resist swirling her fingers through the slick mess, jerking a thumb upwards to roll against Rio’s clit. Rio stopped trying to form any words, just lay there moaning and rocking her hips against Agatha’s body. Her arms were bound to her sides, muscle memory forbidding her from moving them.

‘Patience, darling.’ Agatha teased, withdrawing her hand from where Rio needed it most. She shifted until her breasts were pressing against Rio’s, the friction from their nipples brushing together making Agatha moan. She slipped a knee in between Rio’s legs and felt around behind her for her knife. Rio didn’t even flinch as she raised it, betraying her unfailing trust. Agatha used it to tear a hole in Rio’s suit, at her crotch.

‘Agatha!’ Rio admonished, red faced and panting. ‘I don’t have any other clothes.’

‘You’re a witch, aren’t you?’ Agatha deadpanned, pressing her knee upwards until it rested against the junction of Rio’s thighs. ‘Magic some up.’

Rio immediately ground down against the older witch’s leg, crying out at the friction on her clit. Agatha was barely pushing back, just sitting up and watching Rio’s face contort in pleasure as she rutted against her. Tears sprang to her eyes at Rio’s sweetness, and she quickly buried her face back down between her breasts, kissing at her sternum and pinching her nipples through the fabric.

‘Missed you,’ Agatha whispered, trying and failing to keep her voice from cracking. Rio paused her efforts to bring their mouths together, conveying all her emotion into the kiss. She could taste Agatha’s salty tears.

‘Mmmm,’ Rio whined, getting closer to her peak. ‘L-love you,’ she stuttered out, shaking beneath Agatha.

Agatha’s heart thundered dangerously in her breast at that, and she stopped her ministrations on Rio’s chest to palm a hand over Rio’s mouth, slipping a finger inside to probe at her cheeks. Rio sucked on it greedily, and Agatha’s other hand joined her thigh in bringing Rio to her orgasm, two expert fingers rubbing against her clit, hard and fast the way she liked it.

‘You’re too good, Rio,’ Agatha spoke low in her ear, lips brushing her lobe.

Rio came against her, scream muffled by her hand, obedient arms breaking away and pulling Agatha in, as if she was trying to absorb the other witch into her body.

Even when she had come down from her peak and Agatha’s hands came gently to rest in her hair again, she didn’t let go, her own tears threatening to spill into the darkness.

Agatha lay down next to her, pulling her onto her side. Rio instinctually snuggled closer into her embrace, still shaking from the force of coming so hard. ‘MMmfuck,’ she managed, and Agatha laughed.

‘Still got it?’ she asked teasingly. Rio’s eyes flitted up to rest on Agatha’s face, noting the sudden shade of uncertainty there.

‘Hey,’ she murmured soothingly, threading her fingers through Agatha’s hair.

‘I’m not as young as I once was,’ Agatha whispered. ‘Not as young as you’ve stayed.’

Rio silenced her with a kiss, desire reawakening between her legs.

‘Agatha,’ she breathed. ‘You’re so beautiful.’

Rio trailed a hand down to stroke Agatha’s stomach, thumb brushing the ridge of the scar running across her middle.

‘Let me make you feel good,’ Rio said, a hint of a question in her voice.

Agatha clasped her neck from the back again and nodded.

‘Please, Ri.’

Rio didn’t move, part awed at hearing that nickname again, part waiting for Agatha to get impatient. She didn’t have to wait long.

Agatha let out a breathy sigh and tightened her grip on Rio’s neck, pulling at her hair sharply. Her eyes dilated even further in the darkness, and she used her hold on Rio’s hair to drag her forcefully down towards the crux between her legs, where she was wet against her trousers, dark patch matching the one Rio had left on her thigh.

Rio went down with a smirk, relishing the tickle of pain from the pull of the hair at the base of her neck.

Agatha whimpered beneath her, shifting her hips in impatience.

‘Agatha?’ a voice called out, too close for comfort. ‘Uh- Rio?’

Agatha yanked Rio back up to face level, terror flooding her features.

‘Fuck – it’s Teen.’

Rio hissed. ‘Who gives a fuck?’

‘No, Rio. I- I have to make sure he’s ok.’ Agatha pleaded, forsaking her own pleasure for the boy.

Rio whined in complaint but made to get up. Didn’t want to traumatise the poor kid.

Beneath her, Agatha was buttoning her blouse with quick precision, fingers still shimmering with Rio’s slick.

She couldn’t resist a sadistic giggle. Agatha’s back was covered in grass stains, little bits of moss on her trousers and shirt. The embarrassingly large wet patch on her thigh was glistening.

Agatha failed to hide her own smile, making a show of sternness. She raised a sharp eyebrow, glaring at where Rio’s suit was ripped at the crotch. Rio waited until Teen was just about to come into view before waving a hand to cast a quick spell to remake their outfits, pressing one last longing kiss to Agatha’s swollen lips.

‘I’m gonna get you back,’ she promised in Agatha’s ear.

‘I’ll be counting on it.’

Chapter Text

Agatha stumbled down the steps, eyes wet and reeling from the trial they had just completed. Jen’s screams for Lilia echoed in her ears, making her heart pound with dread.

Another coven member dead.

That meant-

The snap of a twig announced her, Lady Death. Agatha hadn’t seen her since leaving her own trial, one charged look between them conveying everything they couldn’t say out loud.

Rio had defended her like her life depended on it, had waited years to take her prolific anger out on Evanora. Agatha was ashamed what seeing it had done to her.

Gone was the 80s inspired two piece, Rio was in her ‘Road’ outfit again, a little green crown the only addition. It drew Agatha’s desperate attention to her gorgeous hair.

God, she loved that hair.

She looked tired, Agatha realised. Dark undereyes, or it could just be mud from the Road. Even just the pure earthiness of her.

She spoke then, voice layered with sarcastic wit.

‘The bodies are really piling up, just like you promised.’

Agatha stared, a stab in the chest at the sudden reminder of their deal. Some extra time with Nicky, and she’d bring Rio as many bodies as she could. Fat lot of good it had done her in the end.

She decided to play along with Rio’s cold, unaffected demeanour.

‘Did you doubt me?’

‘I did,’ Rio replied, and her voice sounded small.

Agatha wasn’t sure they were talking about the bodies anymore. She tried a different tactic.

‘You’re a big girl,’ she teased, carefully targeting her weak spot. Rio didn’t like to be a big girl at all. Not with Agatha.

‘I knew you’d figure it out eventually.’ A hint of praise, Rio’s eyes sparking a little.

‘He is an abomination,’ Rio spat. ‘He is disrupting the sacred balance.’ She waved her hands about, eyebrows raising as if to acknowledge how ridiculous she sounded.

Then her tone changed.

‘And I know how you feel about him.’

Agatha’s throat tightened, still-wet eyes clouding in pain. Deflection time.

‘Oh please, I’ve known that kid two minutes-’ she began.

‘I watch you Agatha,’ Rio said gently. ‘Just as closely as you watch everyone else.’

Agatha’s mouth snapped shut. That sounded dangerously like another love confession. And she knew it was true. ‘Te veo’, Rio was fond of saying. I see you.

And the worst thing, the very worst thing, was that she did. She was the only one who did. The only one still alive anyway.

Rio continued, voice sharpening with what sounded suspiciously like jealousy.

‘This walk with another woman’s son on a road that doesn’t-’

‘Stop.’ Agatha commanded, using her special no-nonsense voice. It usually shut Rio up immediately, but this time she pressed on.

‘No-one in history has had special treatment like you,’ she confessed.

Her eyes were so dark and they pleaded with Agatha’s own. Begging her to see her back, to notice the lengths Rio had gone to just for her. Just for love of her.

If only everybody knew the truth, that Death herself was made up of so much love.

‘I know,’ Agatha whispered, voice cracking. ‘I know you gave me six years, but you still took him.’

Rio had no response to that.

‘Why do you let them believe those things about you? About Nicky?’ Rio asked.

Agatha’s heart twisted upon hearing her use their son’s name.

‘Because, the truth is too awful.’

The truth was, she had wasted those six precious years with him. She had trained him to steal, to lie, perform and kill.

Never mind that she’d taught him to sing too.

Agatha turned then, exhaustion hitting her in the knees. She took a seat on a fallen trunk, Rio doing the same opposite her.

God, she was tired.

Rio only continued, and all the fight ran out of her.

‘The son of the Scarlet Witch stole a second life, I can’t let him do the same for his twin,’ Rio pressed on. ‘I have to take him.’

Those five words stirred something nasty within Agatha, the memory of them tugging at her brain. She’d heard them from Rio before.

‘Then take him,’ she replied wearily.

Rio got up and started walking towards her.

‘In exchange for?’

Agatha was up too, guarded walls still high and tight around her. She wouldn’t let Rio approach her with the upper hand like that.

‘If I deliver Billy,’ she reasoned, ‘You bring me to Nicky.’

Rio’s whole face softened, eyes shimmering with her own unshed tears.

‘You will eventually die, Agatha.’

‘But will I see him when I do? I don’t know that I will. I know you said there’s…different places. I need you to make sure of it.’

Rio was silent, pain visible in her features.

‘When I die,’ Agatha continued. ‘A long, long, long time from now, I want to see his face.’

‘Okay.’ Rio said softly, walking away.

There was too much, and yet nothing at all, to say.

Agatha stared at the dandelion seed sprouting up through the soil. She had actually done it, made it all on her own to the end of the Road, the end of Billy’s extensive delusion.

She looked around her, soil falling from the ceiling and getting caught in her hair.

Where was the fucking door?

Rubble narrowly missed her as the Road crumbled in on itself. She burst through in the final moments, throwing open the double doors and crawling out.

She was in her garden in Westview, but something was very wrong.

Wind howled around her, and the sky was almost black.

Rio’s stupid, over-dramatic cackle rang through the air and reached her ears.

Disoriented, Agatha stumbled forward. Her lover was perched on the roof of the house where she’d spent three gruelling, wasted years.

‘Congratulations, my love,’ she called, trying and failing for a detached tone. Agatha still heard the genuine emotion beneath the words.

‘I want my prize.’ Agatha shouted up at her, straining her voice against the howling wind.

‘So do I,’ Rio rocketed back, ever the petulant child.

Agatha growled. ‘I got you the kid out, as agreed.’

Without waiting on a response, she started creating a protection circle, muttering under her breath in Latin. She wasn’t really trying anything more than to buy some time to think; she knew her magic wasn’t back. She could feel the emptiness it left within her.

‘hoc malum?,’ Rio called, undisguised hurt in her voice. ‘You’re calling me evil?’

She floated down from the roof then, and close up her beauty in this form almost stung.

‘I am the natural order of all things, baby,’ she defended herself in a way that made Agatha proud.

The pet name made her weak.

‘And you love me,’ Rio said, not a statement or a question, just a little utterance that threatened the all of Agatha’s being.

She could neither confirm nor deny.

‘Why don’t you want me?’ Rio whined, and oh it was all coming out now.

Agatha had no chance to respond before she was slammed to the floor, arms bound tight behind her back against a post.

She raised one eyebrow in jest.

‘Kinky. Usually you’re the one who likes being tied up.’

Rio’s pallid cheeks actually fucking pinked at that.

Agatha’s answering smirk of delight was wiped from her face when Rio was flung backwards, a ball of blue magic lighting up the dark yard. She stared after her in slight concern before turning to Billy.

This kid really was Wanda’s, complete with dramatic (and sort of corny) costume and all.

‘Don’t take it all.’ Billy begged, before raising his hands and blasting her.

All that blue power, burning through her body, binding with her red blood to make purple.

Agatha’s body flooded with it.

When he was done giving, he stopped the flow. Impressive.

‘One of you stays with me, the other walks free.’ Rio demanded, recovered and back in front of them now. Ever the dramatic. She loved a good poem or riddle.

And really, it was stupid. Because Agatha knew she could never walk free, just as Rio did. No matter where or when she was, she was Rio’s, and Rio was hers.

Staying with her sounded nice. Agatha was tired of this pointless charade of indifference.

Rio was looking at her in a very specific way.

‘Power looks good on you,’ she complimented, eyes glued to her bodice.

Agatha smiled a slow smirk.

‘Honey,’ (and Rio’s little answering smile at that name made everything worth it) ‘Everything looks good on me.’

Rio looked inclined to agree.

Agatha turned to Billy then, confusion painted across his face at the softening tension between them.

This was Wanda’s kid, of course he would try and sacrifice himself. Agatha stopped him with a comforting hand on his arm before he could even suggest it.

‘It should be me,’ she whispered, glancing nervously at Rio. ‘It should be me.’

She sounded a bit surer the second time.

Rio’s smile split into a grin, a flash of her true form spilling out. Still so beautiful.

Wordlessly, she reached out a hand to Agatha.

With one last glance at Billy, Agatha went willingly.

She practically ran to Rio, hands coming up to clasp her face in a desperate, molten kiss.

Rio moaned instantly into it, gripping Agatha’s wrists in an imitation of their kiss on the Road.

Agatha’s tongue swiped into Rio’s wanting mouth, claiming her just as Death claimed her now.

She felt her mortal body weakening, limbs going numb as she rose into the air.

The last thing she saw was Rio above her, the way she’d always known it would be. She wasn’t special. All roads lead to Rio.

She’s just the only one who thinks that’s a good thing.

When she next opened her eyes, Agatha was lying alone, naked but for her locket nestled against her collarbones.

Blinking rapidly to adjust to the light, Agatha glanced around her. No sign of Rio, but this could only be her bedroom, or whatever passed for one for Lady Death.

Agatha was lying in bed, sheets twisted around her legs like she’d thrashed in her sleep. Had she slept?

There was a wooden bedside table, pink flowers painted on the side of it. Little artifacts that Agatha recognised from over the centuries decorated the top. She reached slowly for the miniature pine box that stood front and centre.

Somehow, she’d already known what was inside, but actually flipping the lid and seeing Nicky’s hair made her gasp. Rio kept some too.

A throat cleared behind her, and Agatha spun around, pulling the cream bedsheet up and over her naked body.

Rio was fucking resplendent down here.

Agatha only realised in that moment what realm crossing must do to her, because gone were the eyebags and pale white skin. Rio’s cheeks were flushed and warm, brown eyes light with joy. Her hair was shining and neat against her neck, and she even had tiny laugh lines by her eyes. No costume, but a shirt and trousers. Bare feet.

She looked so happy.

‘Rio,’ Agatha breathed. She couldn’t wait any longer to ask.

‘Is- is he here?’

She held her breath, throat constricting in fear.

Rio only smiled, clasping Agatha’s hand to her chest.

‘He is.’

Tears ran from Agatha’s eyes immediately as the weight of the simple statement tore through her. Nicky was here, and Rio had been taking care of him.

‘Please, take me to him,’ Agatha begged, reaching for Rio with frantic hands.

‘Of course,’ Rio acquiesced. ‘Let me just-’

With a flick of her hand she summoned a robe suspiciously similar to the one Agnes had had in Westview.

Agatha raised an eyebrow and she flushed.

‘It was a nice robe, okay?’

Rio’s gentle fingers curled into Agatha’s as she tugged her out of the little room and into a dim corridor.

‘He’s sleeping,’ Rio whispered, putting a finger to her lips.

She pushed open a non-descript door in the side of the wall, and Agatha’s whole world started spinning again.

Nicholas was tucked up in bed, soft bear in his arms. His hair was longer, and covering his face a bit, but it was unmistakeably him. Her baby boy.

She choked down a sob, unwilling to wake him, mother’s instinct prevailing despite it all. He looked so peaceful.

She stared for several minutes before backing up and closing the door with a soft click.

‘Rio,’ she growled under her breath, taking firm hold of the green witch’s arm.

Rio could only exhale as Agatha tore back into the bedroom she’d woken up in not fifteen minutes ago.

‘You’ve had him, all this time?’ she marvelled, fingers caressing through Rio’s hair, all that gorgeous hair.

‘Of course, never would have let him go anywhere else.’ Rio replied, stumbling over her words in her childish excitement.

Agatha’s arms wrapped tight around her little witch, pure love lighting up her once dead heart.

‘Oh, baby,’ she whispered, and Rio whined into the soft skin of her chest, rubbing her lips against her like a cat.

After a moment of tight hugging, Rio’s hands slipped round from Agatha’s lower back to her waist, then inside the robe.

Agatha’s stomach muscles tensed up at the intrusion, then relaxed against her.

She was so soft.

‘Rio,’ Agatha warned lowly, and Rio pulled back to bat her eyelashes at her.

‘I promised you a turn,’ she whined.

Agatha’s hand fisted into Rio’s hair, tugging gently.

‘And I’ll get it,’ Agatha said sweetly, faux saccharine as she dragged Rio to the bed and threw her onto it.

Rio looked up at her like she’d already come.

Agatha slid the robe off her shoulders and let it pool onto the floor below. She lifted one knee onto the mattress, baring herself to Rio in a way that made her writhe and pant beneath her.

‘Any reason I woke up here naked?’ she teased, reaching down to play with Rio’s nipples through her shirt.

‘W-want you,’ Rio mumbled, mouth hanging open with desire.

‘Jesus darling, you’re practically incoherent and I haven’t even touched you. I thought this was meant to be about me?’

Rio whined again, widening her eyes in that pleasefuckme look she knows works.

‘Fine,’ Agatha whispered. ‘Since you asked so nicely.’

Rio was stupidly wet underneath the slacks she had on. No underwear, so she must have been thinking about this when she dressed herself.

Agatha’s hand stilled.

‘Why weren’t you here when I woke up?’ she asked, curious all of a sudden.

Rio made a visible effort to talk.

‘Ungh-,’ she sat up.

‘I was dealing with-’, she cut herself off. Tears sprang to her eyes.

Oh. Agatha’s body.

‘I grew you flowers,’ she whispered. ‘Those mushrooms you and Nicky used to like too. The ones we made soup from? And-’

Agatha cut her off with a gentle kiss.

‘Sweet girl,’ she cooed. ‘Too good to me.’

Rio went back under, eyes practically black with want.

‘Please,’ she whispered.

Agatha resumed her ministrations, curling her fingers through wet heat. She didn’t think Rio had been this ready, ever.

‘What is it?’ she whispered against her lover’s neck.

‘What’s got you so-’ A particularly loud moan from Rio.

‘Is it me being here? In your room?’

Rio nodded frantically, eyes flashing open to meet Agatha’s.

‘You’ve thought about me here?’ Agatha questioned, loving the effect her words had on the younger witch. It felt like having her purple again.

‘You can’t-’ Rio began, then broke off. Agatha was fucking her in earnest now, giving her three fingers, no problem.

‘No, go on sweetheart,’ Agatha purred. ‘Try to talk through it.’

‘Can’t- oh, can’t leave me now.’ Rio stuttered out, hips grinding down against Agatha’s knuckles.

‘Won’t,’ Agatha whispered back, touched by Rio’s sweet sincerity.

A firm thumb on her clit pushed Rio over the edge, spilling into Agatha’s palm.

Before her orgasm was even over she pounced on Agatha.

‘Wanna do you now,’ she panted, tearing her shirt over her head to bare her breasts to Agatha.

‘Do you?’ Agatha goaded.

Rio slipped a hand between them to rub at Agatha beneath her.

Agatha stopped her with a firm hand on her wrist.

‘No, I want your mouth,’ she ordered, threading her fingers through Rio’s hair again to drag her downwards. Rio went gladly.

She made a show of bumping her nose against Agatha’s clit before swiping her hot tongue through the wetness between her legs.

Agatha choked down a moan, unwilling to show her how much she was feeling in this moment.

She had a feeling Rio knew anyway.

Rio ate her out like a fucking crazy person, all lips, tongue, teeth in equal measure. Agatha loved it.

Her tongue worked tirelessly, lapping up every bit of slick Agatha had before dipping inside to her core.

Now, Agatha was moaning.

Rio’s tongue was so deep she had to be using some kind of magick, and the very thought made Agatha throb harder. She wasn’t licking anymore, just sort of thrusting madly inside her, enchanted tongue setting fire to her insides. The tip was somehow bumping the rough spot inside her, whilst the flat of it laved at her clit.

She was going to come really fucking fast.

‘Oh fuck, baby,’ Agatha groaned, hips chasing the feeling and forcing Rio in further.

The green witch mewled against her, and suddenly Agatha’s whole lower belly was seizing with an odd sensation.

‘Rio, Rio, I-’ she called out in warning, but Rio only doubled her efforts.

A violent wave crashed through Agatha as she hit her peak, all the tension, fear, anger and sadness expelling from her body in a violent gush of hot, clear liquid that landed all over Rio’s face and chin.

Rio shouted into her, in surprise or shock she didn’t know, and the force of the noise set her off again.

When she came to a bit, Rio had pulled away. Her face was wet with tears and come, and she was genuinely red with exertion.

That gorgeous mouth was actually swollen. 

‘Agatha, I can’t believe you just-’ she began, but snapped her mouth shut at Agatha’s warning glare.

‘Thank you. That was –’ passable her rational brain told her to say, to keep the wall up, but Rio looked so hopeful and soft. ‘Fucking amazing,’ she finished.

‘Come here,’ she whispered, reaching out for Rio.

Rio crawled upwards to lay in her arms, black heart beating out of her chest with terrifying, consuming joy. She’d dreamed of this.

Agatha was falling asleep, eyes heavy with exhaustion, but still canting fingers through Rio’s hair, over her body, across her face. Just checking she’s real.

‘Agatha?’ Rio said in a tiny voice, eyes peering up at the older witch.

Agatha craned her neck down to meet them.

‘Do you really think I’m evil?’ Rio asked, not daring to raise her voice above a whisper.

‘No,’ Agatha began in reply. ‘You may not be an angel… but you are my girl. And you’re a good mother and wife. And-’

She broke off, struggling with the muscle memory of hiding emotion.

‘And you were right. I do love you.’

Rio’s smile was worth every second of the last four centuries.