Avxlyse

A/N chapter three PLEASE don’t comment about how quick i’m updating I am gay and unemployed.

Agatha’s eyes fluttered open to the same unsettling warmth from the night before. She was drifting again, suspended between sleep and wakefulness, but this time she knew what was coming. She could feel her body melting into the sheets, her muscles relaxed, her mind slipping into a haze. The softness around her beckoned her to stay, to linger in the comfort of the dream.

But this time, she recognized the presence. The heat wasn’t her own—it belonged to Rio.

The succubus appeared at the edge of her consciousness, moving through the dark like a flame against shadow. Agatha’s pulse quickened as Rio’s touch ghosted across her skin, the sensation of fingers tracing a path from her collarbone down to her wrist. Agatha clenched her hands into fists, trying to resist the pull, but the dream wouldn’t let her go.

"Fighting me again, darling?" Rio’s voice dripped with amusement, smooth as honey. She leaned over Agatha, her lips brushing close to Agatha’s ear. "You know you can’t win here."

Agatha struggled to speak, to force her mind to reject the overwhelming sensation of Rio’s presence, but the words tangled in her throat. Her body betrayed her—an electric pulse of desire shot through her limbs, making her back arch involuntarily.

"Shh," Rio whispered, sliding her hand down to Agatha’s hip. "Let go, Agatha. It’s easier that way."

For a fleeting moment, Agatha wanted to surrender. The temptation to give in, to feel that raw power coursing through her again, was overwhelming. It stirred a hunger she had long kept buried, a need that only Rio seemed to ignite. But then, through the fog of the dream, Agatha’s rational mind clawed its way back to the surface.

"No," she growled, finally finding her voice. With a force of will, she wrenched herself free from the haze, breaking the spell of the dream.

Agatha bolted upright in bed, gasping for air. The sheets clung to her sweat-dampened skin, and her heart pounded in her chest as though it was trying to escape. She cursed under her breath, her head spinning as the remnants of the dream clung to her consciousness like cobwebs.

She wasn’t going to let Rio win.

Shaking off the lingering sensation of Rio’s touch, Agatha dragged herself out of bed and into the cold, harsh light of the morning. She washed her face, ignoring her reflection in the mirror, and dressed with purposeful haste. She couldn’t afford to be distracted by Rio’s games. Not now.

Agatha spent the better part of the morning in her study, poring over ancient grimoires and scrolls, searching for a solution. The room smelled of old parchment and candles, the air thick with the energy of half-forgotten spells. She was looking for something—anything—that might help her reclaim the power that had been stripped away by Wanda. Every page she turned was a reminder of what she had lost.

But no matter how hard she tried to focus, Rio lingered at the edge of her thoughts. The succubus’s presence was like a shadow, always just out of reach, teasing her with memories of the dream and the heat that still clung to her skin.

Hours passed, and Agatha buried herself deeper into her research. She found a few promising leads—ancient rituals and spells that hinted at ways to restore lost magic—but nothing concrete. Nothing powerful enough to counter the succubus's influence, or to truly bring her back to her full strength.

As the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows across the room, Agatha sat back in her chair, rubbing her temples in frustration. She could feel the weight of the day pressing down on her, the fatigue settling into her bones. But at least Rio hadn’t shown herself again. Not in person, at least.

Maybe she’d managed to keep the succubus at bay.

Just as that thought crossed her mind, the air in the room shifted. The temperature rose, ever so slightly, and Agatha’s breath hitched in her throat.

"Miss me?" Rio’s voice was a velvet whisper, impossibly close.

Agatha’s head snapped up, eyes narrowing as the succubus materialized in the corner of the room, draped in that same loose silk robe, her dark hair falling in effortless waves over her shoulders. Her gaze was playful, mischievous, but there was something else there—a glint of intent that Agatha couldn’t quite place.

"I was wondering when you’d show up again," Agatha muttered, pushing herself up from her chair. She moved to the center of the room, keeping her distance from Rio, though she knew it wouldn’t matter. The succubus could close the gap in an instant if she wanted to.

"I was giving you some space," Rio said, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "Letting you think. You seemed… tense." At that, Rio placed her hands on Agatha's shoulders and began to knead her sore muscles. The warmth of her touch seemed to momentarily melt all of Agatha's tension away, and she sighed and closed her eyes as she leaned in to the touch.

Agatha’s eyes snapped open as she pulled away and crossed her arms, her posture defensive. "You’re wasting your time. I’m not interested in your games."

Rio chuckled softly, the sound low and rich. "Oh, but you are, Agatha. You just don’t want to admit it." She took another step closer, her bare feet making no sound on the floor. "Tell me—did you enjoy your dream last night?"

Agatha’s jaw tightened. "Stay out of my head."

"I can’t help it," Rio said, her tone playful as she twirled a strand of her hair around one finger. "You’re practically inviting me in. All that frustration, all that desire… It's intoxicating."

Agatha glared at her, but Rio only smiled wider, knowing exactly how to push her buttons.

"I know what you want," Rio said, her voice softening, turning almost coaxing. She moved closer, her gaze locking with Agatha’s. "I can give it to you. All of it. Your power. Your strength. You want it back, don’t you?"

Agatha’s heart skipped a beat, but she kept her expression neutral. "What’s your angle, Vidal? You’ve been dangling this offer in front of me like a carrot. What do you really want?"

Rio’s eyes gleamed. "I want you to see reason. You can’t fight this alone. You need me."

"And what do you get out of it?" Agatha pressed, her suspicion growing.

"Let’s just say, we have a… mutually beneficial arrangement," Rio said, her lips curving into a knowing smile. "I help you regain what was stolen from you. And in return…" She trailed off, as though savoring the moment. "You let me stick around. Keep things interesting."

Agatha felt a chill run down her spine. There was something in Rio’s tone, something beneath the surface, that hinted at a deeper, more dangerous game.

"And if I refuse?"

Rio’s smile faded slightly, her eyes narrowing. "You won’t. Because you can feel it, can’t you? That hunger inside you. The need for control. Power. You can deny it all you want, but it’s there. And it’s growing."

Agatha’s heart was still racing as she stared at Rio, the temptation woven into every word the succubus had whispered.

But this time, Agatha didn’t let Rio close the gap between them. Her jaw clenched, her fingers twitching as if ready to cast a spell, despite knowing she didn’t have enough power to fully deal with the succubus. Her mind was clearer now than it had been during the dream. She wasn’t going to let Rio have the upper hand.

"I don’t need you," Agatha said sharply, her voice cracking through the stillness of the room. "Whatever you're selling, I’m not buying."

Rio raised an eyebrow, her smirk fading as her playful demeanor began to slip. There was an edge in her eyes now, a flash of irritation. "You’re lying to yourself," she said, her voice colder, sharper. "But it doesn’t matter. You’ll see soon enough."

Agatha opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, Rio’s figure began to shimmer, fading into the air. "This isn’t over, Agatha. You’re not as strong as you think."

In the blink of an eye, she was gone.

The room was silent again, but Agatha’s thoughts were anything but calm. Rio was pushing harder now, escalating her presence and influence. It wasn’t just a game of seduction anymore—there was an urgency beneath the surface that Agatha couldn’t ignore.

With a frustrated exhale, she turned back to her desk, her hands shaking slightly as she shoved aside the texts she had been reading. The truth was, Rio wasn’t wrong. The hunger for power was eating away at her. Every day without her full strength felt like a slow, inevitable unraveling. She needed to fix this, fast, before Rio found another way to worm her way in.

Agatha paced the room, her mind spinning. She needed more than just ancient spells—she needed a way to block Rio’s influence completely. But nothing she had tried so far had worked. The binding spell hadn’t held, and her defenses were weakening. She could feel Rio slipping into her thoughts, like a whisper she couldn’t ignore.

And Rio had hinted at something more—something she wasn’t saying. Agatha could feel it, like an itch beneath her skin. There was a bigger plan at play, and it wasn’t just about regaining power. The succubus had a goal, a deeper intention, but she was keeping it close to the chest.

Agatha leaned against the wall, her fingers drumming against her arms as she mulled over the possibilities. There had to be a way to trap Rio, to get her to reveal her true purpose. But how? How could she bait the succubus into showing her hand without letting her get too close?

Then it hit her.

Maybe the answer wasn’t in fighting Rio head-on. Maybe the way to beat her was to give her what she wanted—at least, for a moment. Agatha wasn’t powerless, not entirely. She still had her cunning, her centuries of experience. And she had something Rio craved: the promise of untapped, raw magic.

A plan began to form in Agatha’s mind, one that would require careful execution. If Rio thought Agatha was finally ready to surrender, ready to seek her help, she might drop her guard. And in that moment, Agatha could strike.

It was a dangerous game, but Agatha had played dangerous games before.

She pulled a nearby grimoire from the desk, flipping through the pages quickly until she found what she was looking for. A summoning spell—not to call on Rio, but to invoke a barrier between them. It wasn’t strong enough to sever the connection completely, but it might give her the upper hand in the short term, enough to protect her mind while she set the trap.

She spent the next hour preparing the ritual, her hands moving with purpose as she gathered ingredients and whispered incantations. The candles burned brighter than before, casting the room in an intense, golden glow. The air around her felt thick with magic, charged and volatile, as she worked through the final steps of the spell.

When the ritual was complete, Agatha felt the barrier settle into place—a thin, fragile layer of protection between her and Rio’s influence. It wasn’t perfect, but it would have to do.

She stood in the center of the room, her chest rising and falling with steady breaths as she contemplated her next move. If this was going to work, she’d have to make Rio believe she was giving in, that she was desperate enough to accept the succubus’s offer. And then, when the time was right, she’d find out exactly what Rio wanted—and take control of the situation.

There was one problem. Agatha knew that if she played this game, if she let Rio in just enough to get what she needed, there was a very real chance that she wouldn’t be able to shut her out again. The line between control and surrender was razor-thin, and once Rio had a foothold in her life, it would be nearly impossible to uproot her completely.

Still, it was a risk she had to take. She couldn’t afford to keep losing ground—not to Rio, and not to her own growing need for power.

"Fine," Agatha muttered to herself, her resolve hardening. "Let’s see how she handles this."

The next night, Agatha sat in the same room, the candles burning low as she waited for Rio to make her move. The ritual had left her drained, and she could feel the pull of sleep tugging at her eyelids. But she knew better than to let her guard down.

And right on cue, the air in the room shifted again.

Rio appeared, materializing like smoke in the shadows, her form languid and predatory. Her eyes gleamed as she stepped forward, a slow smile spreading across her lips.

"You’ve been thinking about my offer," she said softly, her voice curling through the air like silk.

Agatha straightened, meeting Rio’s gaze with a cool, calculated expression. "Maybe I have."

Rio’s smile widened, but there was a flicker of suspicion in her eyes. "And what have you decided, darling?"

Agatha took a slow breath, letting her voice drop to a low murmur. "I’ll accept your help. But on my terms."

Rio’s eyes flashed with interest. "Go on."

Agatha didn’t flinch. "You want to help me reclaim my power? Fine. But I want to know the real cost. No games. No tricks. You tell me everything."

The succubus’s smile faltered for just a second, but she recovered quickly, her eyes narrowing with amusement. "You’re smarter than most, I’ll give you that. But I’m not the one playing games, Agatha."

Agatha crossed her arms, her gaze sharp. "Then prove it. Tell me what you’re really after."

Rio’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes as she took a step closer. "All in good time, darling. But first… you’ll need to trust me."

Agatha didn’t blink. "Trust is earned, not given."

A/N HIII I wrote chapter 2 bcs I was bored and bcs I can!! Hope you enjoy :) lmk your thoughts!! I'm still getting everything together for this fic so i'm sry if any if this is incoherent, i'm just writing it for shiggles.

Chapter 2

The morning sun crept through the heavy curtains of Agatha’s room, casting the space in a dull amber light. She lay still in her bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling, as the events of the previous night replayed in her mind. She could still feel the phantom touch of Rio’s hand on her skin, the mocking smile that refused to leave her thoughts. Despite herself, Agatha shuddered. It wasn’t just the heat of the encounter that unnerved her—it was how real it had felt.

Agatha Harknesshad lived for centuries, and with that the list of things that could catch her off guard slowly dwindled. But this? This was unlike anything she had ever summoned, or encountered. Succubi were dangerous enough in theory. In practice, they were disastrous.

She threw the covers off with a frustrated grunt and sat up, rubbing her temples. The dull ache in her thigh reminded her of the claw marks still etched into her skin, vivid proof that she wasn’t dreaming. With a quick glance, she confirmed they hadn’t healed. They were still as fresh as the moment Rio had raked her nails down Agatha’s leg.

"Of course," Agatha muttered under her breath. Her healing abilities had been significantly diminished since Wanda stripped her of most of her power, and it seemed the succubus had no intention of letting her forget it.

She stood, shrugging off her robe, and headed toward the small mirror by her dresser. Her reflection stared back at her, disheveled and haunted by sleeplessness. She could see it in her eyes—the nagging feeling that this was just the beginning of a far bigger mess than she had anticipated. She cursed under her breath and began gathering the tools she’d need to attempt a binding spell.

Rio Vidal wasn’t going to simply walk away. Agatha knew that much. Succubi weren’t known for their patience, and once summoned, they had a tendency to dig their claws in—literally and figuratively. But there were ways to contain them, to limit their influence. Agatha had just enough magic left to do that. At least, she hoped.

She lit a few candles on her desk and arranged a circle of protection, drawing sigils on the floor with white chalk. The room filled with the scent of sage and rosemary as she muttered ancient incantations, the words flowing from her lips like second nature. The ritual was complex, designed to keep Rio at a distance, to ensure she couldn’t invade Agatha’s dreams—or her waking life—without permission.

As she completed the final verse, the room grew still, the air thick with magic. Agatha exhaled, a satisfied smile tugging at her lips. The binding was set.

“Not bad for a witch running on fumes,” she muttered, straightening up.

Before she could revel in her small victory, the candles flickered. Agatha froze. The room temperature rose  suddenly, and a voice—velvety, mocking—drifted from the shadows.

"Are you really trying to lock me out, darling?"

Agatha spun on her heel, eyes narrowing as Rio materialized from the dim light, her form graceful and unhurried, as though she had always been there, waiting. Her long, dark hair shimmered like molten ink, framing a face that radiated mischief. She wore a loose-fitting silk robe that clung to her curves in all the right places, exuding an effortless seduction that made Agatha’s pulse quicken against her will.

"I’m impressed," Rio continued, stepping closer, her fingers trailing along the edge of Agatha’s desk. "Even with your powers diminished, you’ve still got some fight left in you." She flashed a wicked grin. "But we both know this won’t hold me for long."

Agatha clenched her jaw, ignoring the wave of heat that stirred in her belly at Rio’s proximity. "You have no idea who you’re dealing with."

Rio raised an eyebrow, amused. "Oh? And what exactly are you going to do?" Her voice dripped with amusement as she leaned in close, her breath hot against Agatha’s ear. "You can’t resist me. You’ve already tasted what I can offer, haven’t you?"

Agatha shoved away, trying to put as much distance between the two them as possible. She hated how Rio’s presence seemed to unravel her control, inch by inch, with every teasing word. Her magic flared, a pulse of anger that briefly lit the room in a soft glow. But Rio only smiled wider, as if she was enjoying the show.

"Your little spell might keep me at bay for now," Rio purred, stepping back and surveying the chalk markings on the floor. "But you and I both know I’ll find a way around it. I always do."

Agatha’s fingers twitched, the urge to lash out with magic rising within her. But she knew better. She had to keep her composure. Succubi thrived on chaos, on raw emotion. If she let Rio feed on her frustration, her lust, her need for control—it would only strengthen her.

Instead, Agatha forced herself to breathe, to center herself. She folded her arms, narrowing her gaze at Rio.

"What do you want, Vidal?" she asked, voice low and dangerous. "You’ve had your fun. You’ve toyed with me. Now state your terms, or get the hell out."

Rio’s smile didn’t falter. In fact, it seemed to grow even more playful, as if she was pleased with Agatha’s directness.

"You summoned me, darling," she said, casually running her fingers through her hair as she paced about the room. "You called to me with that little ritual of yours, and now, I’m here. To serve you, to fulfill your deepest desires."

Agatha snorted, her eyes rolling. "I didn’t summon you to be my lapdog."

"Oh, I know," Rio said with a wink. "But that doesn’t change the fact that you need me."

Agatha took a step forward, her patience wearing thin. "I don’t need you. I can fix this on my own."

Rio tilted her head, a small laugh escaping her lips. "Oh, sweet Agatha. You’re powerful, yes, but even you can’t reclaim your magic alone. Not without help."

Agatha paused, her gaze flickering with doubt for just a moment. Rio saw it—sensed it—and moved in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper.

"I can make you strong again," Rio murmured. "Stronger than before. With me, you could take back everything Wanda took from you. And more."

Agatha’s breath caught in her throat, her heart pounding against her chest. It was a tempting offer, no doubt. To have her power back—all of it. To feel the weight of the magic coursing through her veins again, to command the world with a flick of her wrist. To never feel weak again.

But there was a cost. There always was.

"You think I don’t know your game?" Agatha’s voice was sharp, cutting through the haze of desire. "You’re a parasite. You feed on power, on control. You want me desperate, dependent. And I won’t give you that satisfaction."

Rio’s expression shifted, her playful demeanor slipping just slightly. "I don’t need you desperate," she said, her voice softening, almost sincere. "I just need you to want it."

Agatha’s eyes hardened, the moment of temptation passing. She shook her head, stepping back and glaring at the succubus.

"Leave," she commanded, her voice cold. "I’ll deal with you on my own terms. Not yours."

Rio studied her for a moment, her gaze lingering on Agatha’s face, searching for something. Finally, she sighed, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips.

"As you wish, darling," she said, turning away with a graceful flick of her hair. "But you know where to find me when you change your mind."

And with that, Rio vanished, leaving the room colder and quieter than before.

Agatha stood in the silence, her mind racing. She had won this round—but she knew it wouldn’t be the last. The succubus was patient, and Agatha could feel the weight of her own desire gnawing at the edges of her control.

She would have to be careful, this was only the beginning.

Agatha stood still, the echo of Rio's final words lingering in the air like the scent of smoldering incense. Her room felt unnervingly empty now, and yet, the weight of the succubus's presence remained, pressing against her like a too-heavy cloak. She exhaled sharply, her pulse still racing. Rio’s offer hung in her mind, teasing, prodding at her insecurities, whispering promises of power she desperately craved.

She clenched her fists, the dull pain from the claw marks still burning on her thigh. Agatha Harkness, for centuries in control of herself and her power, felt more vulnerable now than she had in decades.

How had it come to this?

The words of Rio Vidal, smooth and seductive, replayed in her mind. "With me, you could take back everything Wanda took from you. And more."

The offer was clear: strength, magic—everything she had lost. Everything Wanda had stripped from her when she’d been left a hollowed-out version of herself. She had tried to suppress that yearning, that desperate need for power, but it was there. It had always been there, gnawing at her since the moment Westview had crumbled and she was left powerless, stranded in a reality where her once-great magic was little more than a flicker.

And now, Rio knew. The succubus could sense it as easily as a predator sniffing out blood. Agatha hated that, hated being read so easily. She felt exposed to the demon in every sense of the word. But she hated something else even more: the truth behind Rio’s words. Without Wanda’s interference, Agatha would never have been in this position. She had been on the verge of something great before it had all come crashing down.

The bitterness welled up inside her, pushing the ache in her thigh further from her mind. She didn’t need Rio. Not like this.

But she couldn't deny that the temptation lingered.

Shaking her head, Agatha paced the room, trying to clear the fog the succubus had left in her wake. Every step sent a reminder of the throbbing wounds still etched into her skin. That succubus had marked her—claimed her, almost. And Agatha wasn’t sure if it was out of possessiveness, amusement, or something deeper. Perhaps Rio saw something vulnerable in Agatha that she had buried even from herself.

Her vision blurred slightly as her focus drifted, thoughts swirling in her mind like a storm. She had survived too much, endured too many battles, to let a creature like Rio Vidal pull her down into a pit she couldn’t crawl out of. The succubus’s words were enticing, yes, but she knew the truth behind those seductive promises: it was a trap. Power always came at a cost, and Agatha had spent centuries paying that price.

She turned from the mirror, her steps resolute as she crossed back toward the circle of protection she had crafted on the floor. The sigils still glowed faintly, a reminder that her magic, while diminished, wasn’t entirely gone. She wasn’t powerless. Not yet.

With a deep breath, Agatha knelt and began to reinforce the spell, tracing over the chalk marks with careful precision. Her mind wandered as she worked, thinking back to Rio’s smile, the way the demon had so easily taunted her, pushed her to the brink of wanting. She would need to be stronger if she was going to resist Rio’s influence. Stronger and smarter. 

Finishing the last mark on the floor, Agatha stood and surveyed her work. The protection spell would hold—at least for now. But deep down, she knew it wouldn’t be enough to keep Rio at bay forever. Succubi had a way of finding cracks in the strongest defenses, slipping through the smallest weaknesses.Her fingers twitched with the urge to summon more power, to strengthen her defenses further, but she knew that pushing her magic too hard would leave her more vulnerable. She needed to conserve what little she had left.

A small part of Agatha feared that if Rio returned, she wouldn’t be able to resist. You’re a parasite, Agatha had told her, her voice sharp, filled with certainty. You feed on power, on control. But the truth was, Agatha wasn’t so different. She had always craved power. And now with so little of it left, she was more vulnerable than ever to someone like Rio, someone like herself.

Agatha closed her eyes and exhaled, her mind steadying. She had faced worse than Rio Vidal in her long life. This was just another challenge, another obstacle. And she would handle it—on her own terms. But even as she stood there, preparing for whatever came next, she couldn’t shake the feeling of Rio’s eyes on her, watching her every move and waiting to strike at her weakest.

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Her dream that night began like so many others, softly at first, with whispers of familiarity. Agatha found herself in an endless field of lavender, the wind brushing through the flowers in waves, carrying a sweet, intoxicating scent. It was peaceful—a momentary reprieve from the chaos of her waking life. But beneath the tranquility, there was an energy, a heat that simmered just out of sight, growing stronger with each breath she took.

Agatha moved through the lavender, her fingers grazing the tops of the flowers, but the farther she walked, the more the scene began to change. The air thickened, the sky dimmed, and a warmth spread through her body, not unpleasant but alarming in its intensity. She tried to shake off the feeling, to focus on the beauty of the field, but her mind betrayed her, drawing her toward the warmth instead of away from it.

The landscape blurred, the lavender wilting into darkness. Agatha felt her pulse quicken, her senses sharpen. And then, she saw her.

Rio Vidal emerged from the shadows like a flame licking the edges of Agatha’s subconscious. Her silhouette was illuminated by a low, flickering light, the curves of her body highlighted by the silken fabric that clung to her skin. The succubus’ eyes gleamed with mischief as she approached.

Agatha tried to pull back, tried to force herself awake, but her body refused to obey. The warmth that had been creeping over her flared into something more potent, more primal, as she felt Rio’s familiar tug.

“Dreaming of me, already?” Rio’s voice was a soft purr, rich with amusement. She circled Agatha slowly, her fingertips barely grazing the witch’s skin, sending sparks of sensation across her body.

Agatha shuddered as Rio’s touch moved lower, teasing at the edges of her awareness, blurring the lines between dream and reality. She felt herself leaning into the touch despite her resistance, her mind clouded with desire that she couldn’t control. Agatha’s throat went dry, and for a moment, she was trapped in Rio’s gaze, lost in her magnetic pull. The air around them thickened, charged with unspoken desire and the promise of something far more dangerous. Agatha opened her mouth to speak, to demand that Rio leave her dreams, but the words never came. Instead, Rio leaned in, her lips brushing Agatha’s just lightly enough to leave her wanting more. Agatha’s control slipped, her hands moving toward Rio’s waist as though they had a will of their own.

Before she could touch her, before she could give in completely, Agatha felt a sharp pain in her thigh—the same place where Rio had marked her the night before. The jolt snapped her back to herself, just as the dream began to unravel.

The lavender field vanished, the warmth faded, and Agatha awoke in a cold sweat, her heart hammering in her chest.

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Agatha sat up, wiping the moisture from her forehead. The marks on her thigh were still there, vivid against her skin. More pressing, though, was the ache between her legs as she remembered the feeling of Rio’s lips against hers. She gritted her teeth, frustrated at how easily Rio could infiltrate her dreams, how helpless she felt against the succubus’s influence. With a groan she rolled out of bed and stood, forcing herself into her morning routine.

The rest of the day passed with a sort of strained calm. She spent hours poring over her ancient tomes, searching for anything that could help her regain her power—or at least keep Rio at bay. The candlelight flickered beside her as she turned the pages, her fingers trailing over spells she hadn’t used in centuries, some so old they had been forgotten by most witches. Nothing seemed useful, binding spells, protective charms, sigils for control—she’d tried them all. Agatha leaned back in her chair, rubbing her temples as a dull headache set in. Wanda had stripped her of so much, and without the Darkhold, she was grasping at the few remnants of magic she had left.

She needed more power. Real power. And Rio’s offer still lingered in her mind, tempting her with every passing minute.

“No,” Agatha muttered to herself, shaking her head as though to clear it. She couldn’t trust Rio. Whatever she was offering, there would be a price—one that Agatha wasn’t willing to pay.

She closed the book in front of her with a sigh and stood, stretching her stiff muscles. The sun had dipped below the horizon, casting the room in deep shadows. For the first time that day, Agatha allowed herself to relax, believing she had some respite from Rio’s influence. The succubus hadn’t shown up all day, and the wards around her home seemed to be holding. Maybe she had won a small victory, if only for now.

As soon as that thought crossed her mind, the temperature in the room rose. Agatha stiffened, her senses immediately on high alert. She turned, and there, in the corner of the room, Rio materialized from the darkness.

“You didn’t really think I’d stay away, did you?” Rio’s voice was as smooth as silk, her figure emerging with that same effortless grace. She smiled as she stepped forward, her eyes gleaming with amusement.

Agatha’s heart sank. Of course, it had been too easy.

“What do you want now?” Agatha growled, trying to mask the rush of heat that Rio’s presence always seemed to bring.

Rio chuckled softly, her fingers brushing over one of the books Agatha had left open. “Still searching for a way to regain your power, I see.” She glanced up, her smile widening. “You won’t find it in there, darling.”

Agatha crossed her arms, forcing herself to tear her eyes away from where Rio’s robe dipped at her chest and meet her gaze.  “And I suppose you know where I can find it?”

Rio took a step closer, her expression shifting from playful to serious. “I do, actually. But you won’t like the answer.”

Agatha raised an eyebrow. “Try me.”

Rio’s eyes flickered with something darker, more intense. She leaned in, and whispered almost mockingly in a sing-song voice. “I can help you get your power back, Agatha. All of it. More than you’ve ever had before.”

Agatha’s pulse quickened, the temptation curling around her like a vice. She wanted it—God, she wanted it—but she couldn’t ignore the warning bells ringing in her mind.

“There’s a catch,” she said flatly, her tone guarded.

Rio’s smile returned, though it was softer this time, almost sympathetic. “Of course there is. But it’s nothing you can’t handle.” She reached out, brushing her long nails along Agatha’s arm in a gesture that sent a shiver down the witch’s spine. “All I need is your trust.”

Agatha stepped back, narrowing her eyes. “And why the hell should I trust you?”

Rio’s expression didn’t change, but there was a flicker of something in her eyes—something dangerous. “I’m offering you exactly what you want, Agatha. Power. Control.”

“And what do you get out of it?” Agatha demanded, her voice rising in suspicion.

Rio’s smile widened, her gaze locking onto Agatha’s. “I get you.”

Agatha's breath caught in her chest, fear rising in the pit of her stomach. She recognized the look in Rio’s eyes, the hunger for someone who knows you have complete control over their desires. She had seen the look in Rio’s eyes reflected in her own many times before.

Rio stepped closer, her voice low and seductive. “Think about it, Agatha. You don’t have to make a decision right now. But the clock is ticking, and every day you wait, you lose more of yourself.”

Agatha stared at Rio, her mind torn between the danger of the offer and the overwhelming desire to be whole again. The silence stretched between them, thick with tension.

Rio leaned in ever so slightly, bringing her lips yet again to Agatha's ear. “I’ll be waiting,” she whispered, and planted a feather-light kiss on her cheek before disappearing into the shadows once more.

A/N Hi guys!! You asked and you shall receive! This story takes place in a universe where instead of trapping her in westview, Wanda lets Agatha go with a fraction of the power she once had. Just a silly little fic to sooth my Agathario cravings in between episodes! I’m gonna try and get new chapters out every other day or so.

Title from From Eden by Hozier

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It started with a flicker, unsuspecting and uninteresting. Agatha was rooting through some old spell books to try and find a glamour enchantment to attract sexual desire. It was a childish whim, made in her desperation to regain some semblance of control. Wanda left her weak, and with so much of her power gone, she felt her grip on those around her loosen significantly.

It was jarring, a loss too odd to articulate, when you go from bending the will of others at your whim to an indifferent force in the world around you. Agatha craved it, that feeling of utter control, more than anything else Wanda took from her. She knew she had to get it back, even if she had to start at the bottom and claw back to the top. She had to start with what she knew to be the easiest, simplest way to attract total devotion‒ through sexual desire.

The spell went, for the most part, just as she had planned. The ingredients were easy enough to find. Roses, honey, salt, red candles, and some kitchen spices you could knick from any grocery store. Simple, easy witchcraft she’s been capable of for centuries. The shift in energy would’ve been imperceptible to most, but to Agatha, the sudden, illogical flicker of each candle in unison made her hairs stand on end.

Still, she chalked it up to Wanda's ever lingering damage and went about the rest of the ritual as she always had. It wasn’t until that night that she understood the true gravity of her error.

The warmth stroked her every muscle with a tender hand, lulling her into an inky black sleep. Each pulse of her heartbeat sent liquid gold to her limbs, bringing her closer and closer to bliss. An orange light surrounded her, and a laugh like honey rang in her ears as a hand reached out to touch her. First her shoulder, trailing up to her cheek, then down to her knee. Through hazy, lidded eyes, she peered up at the golden light. A woman, dark haired and effervescent, peered back at her, smiling through red lips. Her tongue darted out to wet them, and it sent electricity all through Agatha's body. The woman's hand trailed slowly up her leg, past her robe, and grazed her upper thigh with a torturous, feather light touch. Every inch of contact was like fire, warmth blooming in her chest as she gazed at the woman. She felt magnetized to her, like any inch of space between them was an inch too much. Agatha leaned in to press her lips against hers, but before she could get any further, she felt a piercing pain in her thigh. Yelping, she pulled back to see long fingernails emerge from under her robe, dripping with blood. The woman laughed, the sound radiating as she licked her fingers.

Agatha shot awake in bed, body drenched in sweat. She ripped the covers off of her body and peeled back her robes, dreading to see what she already knew was there. Four long claw marks stared back at her, etched into her skin and trickling blood. Worse than that was the ache radiating from her core, needy and clearly present. She shoved her head back into her pillow and groaned at her stupidity, as it slowly dawned on her how utterly fucked she really was. If she knew anything about witchcraft, she knew one thing — She had a Succubus.

Agatha cursed under her breath, clutching the sheets in her fists as the realization sank in. A succubus. She hadn’t summoned a lover, a pawn, or even a mortal with fleeting devotion. No, she had called forth something infinitely more dangerous. 

She sat up, trying to steady her breath, but her body betrayed her. The warmth from the dream—the succubus’s touch—still lingered on her skin, an itch that wouldn’t quite leave. Her thigh throbbed, and the marks from the Succubus’ claws began to feel all too real. Was this just the beginning? How much could she physically harm her? How much would Agatha let her? She glanced at her reflection in the mirror across the room, her eyes dark with need, frustration, and… something else. Was it fear? No, not quite. Anticipation. The thought turned her stomach.

Agatha swung her legs over the side of the bed, wincing as her bare feet hit the cold floor. She cursed again, this time more audibly, as she paced back and forth, trying to shake the lingering sensations. Her mind raced with the implications. Succubi were notorious, not just for their insatiable appetites, but for their ability to manipulate, to control, to twist their victims until they craved them beyond reason. She knew the stories. Hell, she had lived long enough to have seen the aftermath of succubus entanglements. Witches, sorcerers, even powerful beings like herself, brought to their knees by desire.

“I’m not one of them,” Agatha muttered, a desperate edge creeping into her voice. “I’m not weak.”

But even as she said it, she could feel the echo of that laugh in her mind—smooth, sultry, dripping with amusement. It was a sound that made her chest tighten with equal parts fury and desire.

She needed to figure this out—now. Agatha stalked over to the grimoire she’d been reading earlier. It still lay open on her desk, the candles from the ritual now melted down to stubs, the faint scent of roses and burnt honey hanging in the air. Flicking through the pages with a practiced hand, she searched for answers. There had to be a way to reverse this, to banish the succubus before things spiraled further out of control.

But as her eyes scanned the old, familiar words, she found nothing. No incantation. No banishing ritual. No easy fix. Of course, there wasn’t. Summoning a succubus wasn’t the kind of mistake one could undo with a flick of the wrist. She knew that.

A low chuckle echoed from the shadows, making Agatha freeze. The temperature in the room seemed to spike, and a sultry voice purred from behind her, "Looking for something, darling?"

Agatha turned sharply, heart pounding as her gaze locked on the succubus, who stood casually in the corner, leaning against the wall as if she had always belonged there. Her dark hair spilled over her shoulders, the same as in Agatha’s dream, but now she was here, in the waking world, every bit as alluring—and dangerous. Agatha stared at her long, tan legs, just peaking out through the slit in her emerald green robe. It was more modest than she had imagines for a succubus, covering all the way up to her collar bones. Still, Agatha could see the lace of a black bra peaking subtly out of the top. Her skin seemed to glow a dull gold as her scent carried across the room— Honey and warm spice. She thought about the skin of her thighs, how soft it looks and how if she could reach just a little further—

"How did you—" Agatha began, cutting herself off before her mind could wander any longer, but the succubus just smirked, pushing herself off the wall and walking towards her with that same predatory grace.

"How did I get here?" her voice was teasing, almost patronizing. "You summoned me, remember? And I must say, you have impeccable taste." She stopped just inches from Agatha, her eyes glinting with mischief. "Though I think we both know this is about more than just a casual attraction spell. You wanted something… deeper."

Agatha clenched her jaw, trying not to flinch as the succubus reached out to trail a finger across the line of her jaw . The touch was electric, sending sparks of heat through her veins despite every instinct telling her to pull away. But the pull was there. Undeniable.

"I didn’t ask for you," Agatha hissed, stepping back, though it took more effort than she wanted to admit.

The succubus smiled, a slow, dangerous smile. "Oh, but you did. Your power called to me, Agatha Harkness. You were searching for control, for dominance, for someone who could bend to your will." She circled Agatha now, her gaze lingering on the claw marks she had left. "But you should know… you can’t summon a succubus without offering something in return. And lucky for you…" Her hand brushed against Agatha’s lower back, making her breath hitch. "I’m very, very good at fulfilling desires."

Agatha spun to face her, eyes blazing. "I don’t need you."

The Succubus' smile widened, a predatory gleam in her eyes. "Oh, darling, we both know that’s a lie." She leaned in close, her breath warm against Agatha’s ear. "The question is… how long can you resist before you admit what you really want?"

Agatha’s breath caught, her pulse racing as she met the demons gaze. There was a challenge in her eyes, one that both enraged and enticed her. Agatha had always been the one in control, always the one with the upper hand. But this—this was different. She wasn’t just a distraction; she was a threat, a temptation that Agatha wasn’t sure she could ignore.

"Where are my manners? I haven’t even introduced myself," the succubus purred, her voice as smooth as silk. She smiled, a sickly sweet smile that sent a shiver down Agatha’s spine, stepping closer with an effortless grace. Her dark eyes glittered with amusement, lips curling into a pout as she batted her lashes. "Well, aren’t you going to ask me my name, Agatha Harkness?"

Agatha's breath quickened. She wanted to ignore her, wanted to maintain her sense of control, but the succubus’s presence was magnetic. The air between them hummed with tension, a pull so strong it felt almost physical, drawing Agatha closer without her consent. Her instincts screamed at her to keep her distance, to push this creature away before things spiraled further out of control. But her curiosity—and the simmering desire beneath it—kept her frozen in place.

She swallowed hard, trying to regain some semblance of composure. "I’m not in the habit of making small talk with demons," Agatha said, her voice steadier than she felt.

The succubus chuckled, a low, throaty sound that made Agatha’s stomach twist with both irritation and something else she didn’t care to name. "Oh, darling, this isn’t small talk," she said, stepping even closer, her gaze fixed on Agatha like a predator toying with its prey. "It’s tradition. You summon a demon, you give them a proper introduction. It's the polite thing to do."

Agatha raised an eyebrow, forcing herself to meet her gaze head-on. "Since when do demons care about tradition?"

The succubus smiled again, but this time there was something darker behind it, something ancient and knowing. "Since we’ve had names worth remembering."

Agatha clenched her jaw, refusing to be drawn into whatever game the succubus was playing. She had been down this road before—manipulation, seduction, promises laced with power. This demon wasn’t the first creature of darkness to try her hand at controlling Agatha, and she certainly wouldn’t be the last.

But there was something different about this time around.

Her heart pounded against her ribcage, and no matter how much she tried to brush off the feeling, Agatha knew this was more than just a game of power. The challenge in the succubus' eyes wasn’t just about control. It was about want. Hunger.

And Agatha, against her better judgment, felt that hunger stirring inside herself too.

The succubus watched her with an amused, expectant expression, like she knew exactly what was going through Agatha’s mind. "Go on," she coaxed, her voice dripping with honey. "You know you’re curious. I can feel it."

Agatha took a slow breath, trying to quiet the heat rising in her chest. Her body was betraying her, reacting to the succubus’s presence in a way she hadn’t felt in… she couldn’t remember how long. She clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms as she fought to keep her cool.

But the words slipped out before she could stop herself.

"Fine," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "What’s your name?"

The succubus’s smile widened, satisfied, as if she had been waiting for this exact moment. She leaned in closer, so close that Agatha could feel the warmth radiating from her skin, the scent of something sweet and intoxicating filling the air between them.

"My name is Rio Vidal," she said softly, her lips brushing against Agatha’s ear as she spoke. "And now that we’ve been properly introduced… things are about to get very interesting."

Agatha’s pulse quickened at the way Rio’s name rolled off her tongue, rich and dark like wine. She hated the way it felt, hated that her body responded with a shiver that ran down her spine, hated that her mind was already racing with possibilities.

But more than anything, she hated that Rio could see it.

"Don’t get too comfortable," Agatha snapped, stepping back, trying to regain some distance, some sense of control. "This isn’t going to be your playground."

Rio didn’t seem fazed by the sudden shift in tone. She merely tilted her head, studying Agatha with that same knowing smile. "Oh, I’m not looking for a playground," she said, voice low, almost a purr. "I’m looking for something much more... satisfying."

Agatha’s stomach churned, a flush creeping up her neck. She turned her back to Rio, pacing to the other side of the room, needing space to think, to breathe. The succubus’s presence was suffocating, overwhelming. Every word, every glance was designed to provoke, to ignite something Agatha wasn’t ready to acknowledge.

"I don’t need your help," Agatha said firmly, her back still turned. "I can handle my own power."

"Really?" Rio’s voice was closer than it should’ve been, and when Agatha turned, the succubus was standing just behind her, their faces inches apart. "Because it seems to me that your power is the one thing you can’t control anymore."

Agatha glared at her, refusing to be intimidated. "I’ve lived for centuries, Rio. You think I don’t know what you’re doing? You want to get inside my head, make me doubt myself. But you won’t succeed."

Rio’s eyes gleamed with amusement, her lips curling into a slow, predatory smile. "Oh, Agatha," she whispered, leaning in until their foreheads almost touched. "I don’t need to make you doubt yourself. You already do."

The words hit Agatha deeper than she wanted to admit. She felt the truth of them, the gnawing uncertainty that had been growing ever since Wanda stripped her of her power. The fear that she wasn’t as strong as she used to be. The creeping doubt that maybe—just maybe—Rio was right.

But she couldn’t let that show. Not now. Not ever.

"I think it’s time you left," Agatha said, her voice cold, pushing the words through clenched teeth.

Rio lingered for a moment, her dark eyes flickering with something unreadable, before she finally stepped back. "As you wish," she said, her tone light, though there was a shadow of something deeper in her gaze. "But don’t think for a second that this is over, darling."

With a casual wave of her hand, Rio vanished, the air in the room suddenly lighter, but the tension still thrumming beneath Agatha’s skin.

Agatha stood alone in the silence, her heart still racing, her thoughts a jumbled mess. She had won this round, but she knew the succubus would be back. And the worst part?

- The New York Times

GUYS THE SHOT AFTER THIS LEAKED!!! DO NOT LOOK UNLESS YOU WANT SPOILERS BUT OMFG OMG I CANT BELIEVE IT

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A/N: Hi guys! I’m fairly new to fic writing and brand new to tumblr (in a sense, I’ve been ON Tumblr since like 2016 but I’ve never really posted), so I’m not really sure what I’m doing tbh. I’ve been writing for awhile but I’ve never really posted anything, so let’s just see how this goes! PS Constructive criticism is welcome! I'd love some tips :)

Han Solo x Reader

Prompt: “Do I have to spell it out for you? I’m in love with you!” + Kissing to hide from someone

The funny thing is, you were probably the best pilot in the rebellion before Han. And you absolutely resented him for it. There were few things you hated more than someone upstaging you, but there was nothing you hated more than them being smug about it. And Han Solo without smug is like Hoth without winter, impossible. So when you found yourself crammed nose to nose in a maintenance closet staring back into that smug, shit eating grin, you came to the conclusion that if you made it out of here alive the first thing you were going to do was rip the wires out of that cocky assholes prize winning ship and shove them down his throat.

The morning was typical, breakfast in the Cafeteria and some training in the Gym, then straight to the meeting that was scheduled for that afternoon. Unfortunately, you never actually made it to that meeting, because half way through your training session the emergency alarm went off. You dropped your practice weapon and turned to run towards the center of the base.

“Damnit!”

You forgot to take off the resistance band tied around your ankle and ate shit on the training room floor. A mocking laugh echoed through the room as you felt firm hands grasp your wrists and pull you up.

“You should really be more careful, we wouldn’t want you to do any damage to that pretty face of yours now would we?”

Han grinned, sarcasm dripping from his tone. You groaned in frustration, face flushing from a wounded ego.

“If you haven’t noticed we’re in a bit of an emergency, so if you could be a little more helpful and untie my leg so that we can make it to the meeting before The Galactic Empire blows up our base that would be great.”

“As you wish, Princess”

He leaned down to pull the band off of your thigh, lingering a beat too long in his particularly flirtatious manner. You shoved ahead of him, tactlessly hiding your blush. You know it meant nothing to him, but that didn't mean it didn't drive you nuts. You just didn't operate like Han. He was so casual. Sometimes it seemed like he couldn't help but charm anyone that walks by, just to prove he could. You're pretty sure he would flirt with a coffee pot if it was wearing mascara, while you, on the other hand, had barely managed to seduce half a dozen people in your lifetime. It was for this reason that Hans nature was so irritating to you. When he first moved to this base, you had assumed he was making a pass at you. It's just that no one had ever been so bold about it. At least not with you, the plain looking girl from Batuu who's hottest feature, in the literal sense, was her perpetually flushed cheeks and sweaty palms. It had barely been a week before you fell hard, giggling like a child every time he made one of his frisky remarks. Bless Leia's heart for being the only person kind enough to burst your bubble. After what must have been a few too many puppy eyed stares, she pulled you aside to tell you Hans' deal. That he was an egotistical bastard who got a kick out of making people fall in love with him just to see if he could. You crashed back down to Earth pretty swiftly after that, and had now spent the better part of a year rolling your eyes every time he entered a room. Now you're stuck being second best to the man who stole your heart and your rank.

By the time you both reached the meeting room, the alarm had stopped and Leia was the only person left there.

“Y/N, Han! There you are. Where were you two?”

“Long story, what’s up?”

“ok...”

Leia raised her eyebrow suspiciously before continuing 

“There’s a Galactic Empire ship flying in our atmosphere. We’re not sure if they got a tip off about our base or if they’re doing a routine scan of the planet, but either way we can’t risk allowing them to continue. We only have one stolen TIE Fighter at this base, which means the rest of the crew will be working from land to shield the base and prepare for battle in case we’re spotted-“

“Great, where do you need me?” You interjected.

“I was actually hoping you and Han could fly the TIE fighter...”

“Oh?” You questioned, a bit shocked.

She eyed you with a sympathetic look, the two of you still close enough for her to be well aware of how you feel about Han.

“I don't need to tell either of you that you're the best pilots we have on site, and we need this mission to succeed. We can’t risk sending anything but our best, I’m counting on you two to destroy the ship by sabotaging the main engine.”

“Just tell me where to fire and that ship’ll be out of the sky before it can get within 100 miles of our base.” Han said, rearing for battle.

“Not so fast”

Leia sighed, clearly not willing to deal with Hans' rash nature at this exact moment. 

“There’s a reason I’m squeezing Y/N into a single-pilot TIE with you, Han. You need someone who actually thinks rationally, this is too much of a risky situation for you to just go in there and fire at will like you usually would. You need to be calculated and precise, which is why you’ll both be undercover.”

“Hey! I’m calculated and precise...” Han frowned.

You gritted your teeth and turned back to Leia.

“Where’s the engine?”

“It’s on the north end of the ship, right next to the escape pod, you can’t miss it. A few hits should do the trick, especially since we’re using a stolen Empire ship with stronger blasters. By the time they realize you two are there they’ll already be toast. Here are your Uniforms, just in case anything goes south and you have to come face to face with Galactic Empire soldiers.”

You nod and take the uniform out of Leia’s hand, two Stormtrooper suits probably taken off of the soldiers from the stolen TIE fighter.

“Be careful, they’ll be on high alert if a ship just flies at top speed towards their engines. Don’t be suspicious.”

Han scoffed,

“Yeah, great advice ‘Don’t be suspicious’. And how are we supposed to do that? A random TIE fighter that’s probably already been reported as stolen flying up to the ship during what seems like a routine check? How are we going to be sure they don’t stop us immediately and blow us out of the sky?”

Leia took a deep, patient breath,

“You really have no faith in me, do you. We’ve been monitoring the ship and can see that there are TIE fighters flying in and out. Just follow the path that the rest of them are taking to avoid standing out. We know the ship hasn’t been reported as stolen because when it crashed the pilot died, so there was no one to alert them when we recovered it. We don’t have much time, I just need you to trust me. Put on the uniforms, fly in if you have to, but fly out and destroy the engine. It’s our only chance.”

A grim look passed over your face, this mission was risky, and you knew if she was going to put the two of you together it really was her only option. Things could very easily go south and if worse comes to worse her best pilots would have the closest shot at getting out of there alive. You turned to Han and realized he must’ve gotten the message, because for once in his life he didn't have anything witty to say back. He just nodded and went to change into the stolen uniform

You turned back to Leia and took a deep breath before wrapping your arms around her. She returned the hug before pulling back and putting her hands on your shoulders.

“Just, please make it back, ok?”

You smiled “I will. I might leave Han on the ship though, he’s already starting to get on my nerves.”

Leia laughed “As much as he’s a pain in our asses, he’s one of our best. Try to keep him in line for me, you know how he gets...”

You chuckled, “Yeah, I will. See you later, okay?”

“Yeah, see you later.”

You walked off to go change before meeting Han at the ship.

...

By the time you squeezed into the stolen uniform Han was already in the pilot seat of the TIE. You truly wish you had the energy to argue about it, but there wasn't enough time to be petty. He was a better pilot, plain and simple, and your pride wouldn't change that. You also wouldn't change anything by slamming on a non-existent brake pedal as he took off with an all too aggressive jolt, but that certainly didn't stop the instinct.

"Can you slow down?" You snapped, tension seeping into your shoulders. "We're supposed to be blending in, and your narcissistic flying style gives you away to literally anyone who has ever seen you pilot."

"'Narcissistic flying style'?" Han scoffs "What does that even mean?"

"I don't know, shut up." You blushed, doing your best to avoid his gaze.

"You've got to get better at that, you know"

"At what?"

"Being mean. It doesn't suit you"

"Unless you want to figure out how well my foot suits your ass, I suggest you just shut up and fly"

He lets out a warm chuckle, laughing through his response -

"See what I mean? It just sounds weird coming out of your mouth. It's like a youngling swearing for the first time. To much bite, it's not natural yet"

"Well if you're so sure it's unnatural to me maybe I should take notes from you, you seem to have no problem being an asshole."

This one came out with a real bite, he's pissed you off now.

"And what does it matter? Maybe it's not natural to me because you're the only person who makes me feel like saying rude shit. Now what does come natural to me is flying, and maybe if you weren't so focused on how things sounded coming out of my mouth you'd have noticed the TIEs flying on either side of us."

"Oh shit!" He exclaimed, caught off guard for once.

"We're going to have to land on the ship."

"what? why?"

"We don't have access to their channels of communication and we're going to have to explain what the hell we're doing flying off Crait. If we start flying towards the reactor now they'll just gun us down. We can pretend to be the soldiers that crashed on this ship, explain that we were only missing because the engine failed and we needed time to repair it. The communicator broke in the crash, and that's why we haven't called for help, got it?"

"Got it, captain" He said, with an impressed lilt in his voice.

You smiled, tallying this as a win against him. If it was impressive to him that someone could come up with a plan that wasn’t whatever made the most explosions, then so be it. He’d just better be prepared to be impressed for the next few hours.

As Han flew the TIE into the landing bay, it became increasingly clear that this was going to take more convincing on your part than you were prepared for. The two TIEs guarding either side of you followed you into the port, and a group of high ranking soldiers began to gather where your ship was landing. You shot Han a concerned glance before remembering it was useless through your helmet. He seemed to get the message anyways, giving you a short nod in response. You just hoped that meant he was taking this as seriously as you were and wasn't planning on doing anything rash. 

The both of you slowly stepped out of the TIE, unsure of what the soldiers around you were planning. You tensed as a burly looking man approached, eyeing the both of you suspiciously-

“CF-0065, TZ-1764. It’s been quite some time since we’ve heard from you. Your vessels had been reported missing and it was our assumption that you had crashed or been captured. Explain what has kept you from reporting to your posts immediately.” 

He snapped, authority evident in his voice. You decided to cut in before Han could say something stupid-

“Yes, sir. Our vessels crashed on Crait, and we have spent the time in between now and then repairing the engine of the more salvageable ship. We were able to get it functioning yesterday, and we're working on getting the communication systems functioning next. We spotted your ship flying over and hoped to explain ourselves and have aid in fully repairing the TIE.”

“Ah, yes, well I’m glad you were able to recover your vessel and return to work. We could use the extras hands on board.”

“What exactly is the mission of this vessel?” Han chimed in. “We’d like to help in whatever way best suits our skills.” He added, nonchalantly.

The man, who you had now gathered to be the chief officer, began to walk. The two of you followed, doing your best impression of the mindless soldiers surrounding you.

“Well, we were sent to a maintenance level scan of this star system, but have since detected some suspicious activity on this planet in particular.”

 Your shoulders immediately tensed, and you shot a sideways glance at Han. 

“We would like to get a more comprehensive idea of the situation before moving forward, so as of now we have not reported anything to the other fleets in the area. We’d prefer not to alert the planet of our suspicions yet, and give them the least time to prepare if we decide to strike.”

You silently thanked the stars that they haven’t allerted anyone else of their suspicions. You know Han did too, it’s going to make what you have to do here a whole lot easier without an entire fleet against you.

"Well, we’re both especially skilled in repair and maintenance,” Han jutted in, “so if you could point us towards the engine room we would be happy to make sure everything is working in order while you further investigate the planet.”

It was a risky move, and the general eyed you suspiciously.

“The both of us were able to repair a damaged TIE fighter engine with nothing but the materials we were able to trade for on Crait, if you have any issues we’d be happy to help.” You added, hoping it would convince him.

“Actually,” he conceded, “I have been concerned about the operation system in one of  our navigation ports. We’ve been having quite a few rough takeoffs recently. I was going to wait until we landed to get it looked at, but since the two of you clearly possess enough skill to repair that TIE I’d rather you just take a look at it now.” 

He led the two of you down a series of long, winding hallways, which you did your best to memorize if a quick escape became necessary. The room he brought you to was a small one, with about a hundred buttons you barely recognized. You may be an experienced pilot, but Empire technology was something else entirely. You just hoped the general wasn’t planning on staying, or you and Han would have to put on a pretty convincing performance.

“So,” Han coughed, “what seems to be the matter?”

“Well since you two are such experienced mechanics, shouldn't you be the ones telling me?” The general questioned suspiciously.

“Of course, Sir,” You turned, praying to god that you could make some sense of this mess in time to keep your cover. “It looks like-”

A loud thud echoed behind you and you whipped around to see Han standing over the unconscious general. He just shrugged, turning to replace the wrench he pried off the wall to club him with.

“Han!” You whisper-shouted, trying not to alert more people than he probably just did by being his typical, impulsive self.

“What? He replied, “He was totally on to us and It was more trouble than it's worth to try and convince him we know anything about Empire tech.”

“Right, so you decided braining him with a wrench was the next best option?”

“We don’t have time for this, Y/N. At this point we’re going to have to sabotage the reactor from the inside, which might take more effort than we anticipated.”

“And what are we supposed to do with him?” You both eyed the unconscious general, and Han shifted his gaze to a utility closet in the corner.

A few good thunks with the wrench for extra measure later, the both of you began to fold, shove, and contort the general into a crate in the navigation room closet. You had taken your helmets off, sweating uncomfortably with the effort it took to lift the fairly bulky man across the room. You wiped your forehead, staring at the now properly concealed general, and shot a concerned glance at Han, 

“How long do you think it’ll take before they notice he’s gone?” 

“I think we’ve got some time,” He said, reaching for his helmet.

It was at that moment that the doorknob began to jiggle, and in a blur of movement Han had you up against the wall with his lips on yours. It didn’t even register at first, shock and adrenaline coursing through your veins hard enough to freeze you completely.You weren’t exactly sure what the rules were in The Galactic Empire about soldiers kissing, but you had a feeling the punishment for being caught would be less severe than killing a high ranking general. Plus, this was probably the easiest way to hide both of your helmetless faces, yours may not be recognizable, but his certainly is. It took a second before you began to kiss him back, but by the time you let yourself reciprocate, you heard the door click shut and Han pulled away. You kicked yourself and your neurotic brain for running through all of the possible plans of action before you even got the chance to soak it in. You’d dreamed of this so many times, and in so many ways, and the one time it’ll probably ever happen you let it get away from you. As you looked back up at Han, he was stuck with the same searching look you couldn’t wipe off your face. You stared back at him for a second, trying to gauge his reaction.

Han butted in, cutting right through your thoughts. “Maybe we should do that again. You know, just in case they come back.” He said, dazed.

“Yeah…” You muttered, “Yeah that might be best.”

His lips crashed back into yours, and you kissed him with a renewed sense of purpose. Han kissed with a passion you had never felt before. With everyone else it had been awkward and fumbling, but the two of you seemed to fit together so naturally. You took a metal note of every part of him, from the rough feeling of his lips to the bold flick of his tongue. You tried to memorize everything you loved about this, because you knew it was never going to happen again. You’re sure you were going to torture yourself with this moment forever, so you might as well remember it as clearly as possible. The way his hands grazed your waist, not grabbing, but just hovering above your hips with a feather-like touch as if he was afraid you were going to burn him. How his adams apple bobbed when you kissed his neck, swallowing hard out of desperation. The way his hands felt in your hair, not tugging, but carding through it with a sort of reverence. He pulled away too soon, tearing you out of your blissful analysis of his body and back into the present tense. 

“We can’t keep doing that,” He said, panting.

“Yeah, I think we’re in the clear and we need to find the reactor” You replied, trying your best to hide how it stung and moving towards your helmet.

“No.” Han put both his hands on your shoulder, holding you in place, “No, we can’t keep doing that because if we do I will want to do it again.”

“What?” You paused, shocked.

“You know what I mean, Y/N, don’t make me say it out loud.”

You stared back at him blankly, truly at a loss for words.

“Jesus Y/N, Do I have to spell it out for you? I’m in love with you!”

“What?” Seemed to be the only word your brain could muster in this moment. You felt as though your whole world view was crashing around you, as though the very ground beneath you was shaking… On second thought, the ground might actually be shaking, because judging by Hans face you weren't the only one feeling the rumbling beneath you.

“We’ll deal with this later.” He shot you a look before grabbing his helmet and running out the door, following quickly after to discover what was the matter. 

It became clear as you walked that the ship was preparing for takeoff, but you weren’t sure why. Your nerves were on fire, and you know you’ve wasted too much time to get it wrong now.

“That general sure wasn’t kidding when he said their takeoffs were rough. We need to get to the reactor before they can get the ship up and running or we’re screwed.” Han said, eyeing you nervously.

“Do you think if we go back to the landing bay we can tell them we have orders to go back to Crait and investigate some of the suspicious activity we saw on-world? If we take a nicer ship than the TIE we came in we won't have to worry about the blasters not being strong enough to take down the ship.” You replied, already in go-mode.

“Sounds like a great plan,” Han said, voice dripping with sarcasm, “except how the hell are we supposed to find our way back to the landing bay with no map of the ship?”

“Just trust me.” You said, grabbing his arm and leading him down the hall. Your freakish memory is good for more than memorizing Hans lips, and you were able to bring the two of you back exactly the way you came. You strode up to the nearest pilot you could find, and with the confidence of somebody who has no other choice, demands he give the two of you access to an ST-70 Assault Ship. 

“For what purpose?” He responds, taken aback by your assertiveness.

“We are the two soldiers who we’re just recovered from Crait, and were ordered back down there to investigate suspicious activity on the planet. We don’t have time for this, just give us the vessel.” Han repeated what you had planned to the pilot, striding towards the ST-70. 

“I haven’t been told of such an order, the two of you are going to need to wait until I receive the command from higher up to authorize use of this vessel.” The pilot replies sharply.

“We’ve already been held up by engine maintenance,” You added, not exactly sure where this was going but hoping you found something convincing to say in the midst of your rambling, “and spent much of that time relaying to a general on this ship the reason for our brief disappearance. We are part of a high clearance mission to uncover rebel activity on the planet Crait, and are close to infiltrating one of the largest branches of their military. We came here to dismiss your vessel, as we were worried your presence would alert the Rebel Alliance of our presence on the planet.”

Han joined in, stepping up to the unarmed pilot with his intimidating stature. 

“If you don’t hand over this vessel, the failure of a months-long plan to eliminate one of the largest branches of the Rebel Alliance will be on your head. Whatever you think we might do with this ship that is ‘unauthorized’ cannot possibly have consequences as dire for you as that will.” Han rolled his shoulders back, taking one more menacing step forward.

The pilot stepped aside, granting you and Han access to the ST-70. If the two of you make it out of here, you would have to be permanently assigned as partners for missions like these. You have never felt more invigorated or on your game than when you were with Han, the idea of the word ‘partners in crime’ finally settling in your skin. You weren’t out of the woods yet though, and as Han began to start the ships engines, a very rumpled looking general marched into the landing bay.

“Shit!” You exclaimed. “Go, Han, Go, go, go go GO!”

“I hear you Y/N!” Han shouted back, kicking the ship into overdrive and jolting you violently into space.

 You got a few feet out from the ship before three TIE fighters started tailing you, and Han took a sharp left before nose-diving under the belly of the ship. You whipped around to the laser cannons, doing you best to aim as Han whipped the ship around to try and find the main engine. Just as you took one TIE out, two more appeared.

“Do you have eyes on the engine Han?” You shouted, limbs tingling as you shot down two more TIE fighters.

“Got it!” He yelled back, and you swiveled to face the ship's surface as he flew at top speed towards the engine.

You began to count down, preparing Han to nose dive the second you blasted this thing out of the sky.

“Three… two.. One!” You fired directly at the engine, and your stomach did somersaults as Han dodged the blast.  

“Yes!” He screamed, and you laughed with manic joy as you felt relief wash over you. 

The TIE fighters following you weren’t prepared to dodge the blast, and the two of you watched joyfully as they went down with the ship. You barreled towards Crait, with more than just a successful mission to show for it. The two of you had just destroyed a high ranking Empire ship, and come back with an ST-70 Razor Crest M-11 ship as your bounty. Han landed the ship and ripped off his helmet, smiling from ear to ear. The excitement was electric, making its way through every limb and out your fingers to charge the atmosphere around you. You turned to Han and before you knew it you were crashing your lips into his, desperate for an outlet. He kissed you back with double the vigor of the last time, and seemed to be determined to explore every inch of you. Your mouth, your waist, your hair, your thighs, he groped and fumbled at all of you as you pushed back with just as much energy. Kissing Han felt like, for lack of better word, winning. Winning your first race as a newly vetted pilot, winning a mission against the empire, winning the man you thought wanted nothing to do with you and you thought you wanted nothing to do with. You laughed into the kiss as he bit your lip, giddy with an amount of energy you didn’t know how to control. 

“What?” He said, sporting that smug grin you always wanted to slap off of his face.

“Nothing,” you replied, deciding firmly that kissing it off was the better option. “I’ve just been so in love with you forever and can’t believe this is happening.”