rio

small abt me : i mainly like he/him pronouns but they/them are okay too! im queer & 18 yrs old :D

this is an 18+ only blog. even if i write for sfw content, such as age regression.

this will be a sfw n nsfw blog. my master list will be marked carefully! therefore little’s please tread lightly on my blog.

requests are welcome! :)

minors and cis men DNI!

i mainly write for transboy!reader (aka transgender ftm reader who doesn’t like being referred to as man but likes boy and other masc terms!)

characters i will write for :

maria hill (sfw & nsfw) natasha romanoff (sfw & nsfw) wanda maximoff (sfw & nsfw) agatha harkness (sfw & nsfw) rio vidal (sfw & nsfw) lilia calderu (sfw) pietro maximoff (sfw) steve rogers (sfw) peter parker (sfw) bucky barnes (sfw)

my hashtags :

Baking cookies had always been fun, and you decided to try making some yourself to surprise your girlfriend. She often made you baked goods, so returning the favor seemed nice. However, you ended up getting flour, eggs, and chocolate chips everywhere—on the counter, on your hands, and even on your face from rubbing your cheek. When Wanda walked into the common area and turned toward the kitchen, she burst into laughter, and you pouted in response. “Hey! I’m doing my best to bake!” you huff, crossing your arms. When you turn your head, you find her wearing your hoodie. She looks so beautiful. “Mhmm, you’re doing amazing, baby. Want me to help? Come on, let me assist you.” Her soft-spoken voice makes your heart flutter even more. She steps into the kitchen and approaches you first. Wanda gently wipes the flour smeared on your face. “Why are we making cookies?” she asks. You blush softly and reply, “For you…" Wanda’s smirk widens at that. "Such a sweet boy, aren’t you?” she says, pecking your lips.

Wanda takes over from there. You’re not the worst at baking and cooking, but you can be a bit clumsy, often managing to hurt yourself in minor ways. To Wanda, though, these minor injuries seem like the worst ever—probably because she loves you and tends to exaggerate a bit.

Watching her move around the kitchen in your hoodie makes it hard to concentrate. The fabric swallows her body, reaching down to her thighs and covering most of her. She has to roll up the sleeves just right to keep them from falling down as she rolls the dough into balls and places them meticulously on the pan.

“Pretty boy, is the oven preheated?” Wanda asks, snapping you out of your daze.

“Uhh…” You turn to the oven and breathe a sigh of relief. “Yep!” Preheating the oven is something you often forget.

It’s such a forgettable task. Thankfully, you didn’t forget this time; she would’ve scolded you, saying something about how you’re so forgetful. How could you not be? She’s your girlfriend. And she’s very distracting, to say the least.

—

A few weeks later:

Exhaustion washes over you in waves. It began as a mild fatigue, a product of a long mission that left you feeling gritty and in desperate need of a shower. As you made your way back to the Tower, Sam's voice filled the silence, but you couldn't muster the energy to engage. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to listen—perhaps you just didn’t have it in you.

At last, you reached the Avengers Tower, dragging your feet as you stepped into the elevator, each floor feeling like a small eternity. When you finally arrived at your room, you paused, hearing soft sounds that were almost… moans? Your heart raced. Was Wanda in your room? Tentatively, you pushed the door open.

What you saw made your cheeks flush a deep pink.

Wanda lay stretched out on your bed, wearing your baggy hoodie that draped over her frame. Her hand rested between her thighs, revealing she wasn’t wearing shorts. Her eyeliner was slightly smudged, and her cheeks were flushed with effort.

“What a sight,” you whispered, quickly shutting and locking the door behind you. She jumped slightly at your voice, then flashed a playful smirk.

“Hey, baby… care to join?” she invited, her voice carrying a tantalizing, breathy quality.

You nodded, eagerly approaching the bed. As soon as you lay flat, Wanda straddled your head, her breath quick with anticipation. “Oh!” she gasped as your lips pressed a gentle kiss to her slightly swollen clit.

Without hesitation, you parted her thighs, fingers pressing into her skin as your tongue traced broad, tantalizing strokes along her slit. You teased her for a moment before she grabbed your hair, pulling you closer. With a low laugh, you plunged your tongue deep inside her, then wrapped your lips around her sensitive clit and suckled gently.

“F-fuck, just like that, baby,” she moaned, her eyes half-closed as she rocked her hips against your face, lost in sensation.

The hoodie hung loosely over her body, prompting you to keep lifting it. Instead, you slipped your hands under the fabric, gently cupping her breasts. With soft pinches, twists, and circles, you teased Wanda’s nipples, heightening the moment and creating an intimate atmosphere. The air seemed charged with an electric connection.

Wanda was on the brink, tension coiling in her stomach. Her grip tightened on your hair. “Mhmm, keep going. Don’t stop, please, oh!”

Her eyes rolled back slightly as waves of pleasure surged through her. You continued your attentions until, overwhelmed, she rolled off and lay beside you, breathless.

“Thank you for that, my sweet boy,” she murmured, her voice full of gratitude. You beamed, warmth spreading through your chest at the praise. “Anything for my lovely girl.” Leaning in, you kissed her deeply, savoring the taste of her on your lips, a reminder of the connection you shared.

Suddenly, Wanda sits up with a mischievous smirk. “I’m not going to leave you hanging—strip,” she commands. Embarrassment floods you as you quickly remove your pants and boxers.

Bare from the waist down, you watch as Wanda spreads your legs and settles between them. “Hmm, what should I do with my handsome boy? Use my fingers on his boycunt? No? What about…” With a snap of her fingers, a strap appears attached to a harness on her hips in an instant.

“My cock, baby?” she teases, the smirk playing on her lips. Your eyes widen as your cheeks flush even deeper. “Yes… yes… yes please, Wanda,” you whisper breathily, almost losing your breath.

She starts by gently rubbing the tip of her cock against your clit, sending a light throb of pleasure through you. Your eyes flutter closed as she murmurs, “Beg. Beg for my cock.”

No sooner have her words left her lips than you snap your eyes open and protest, “I’m not gonna beg you!” You roll your eyes dramatically, which only deepens Wanda’s smile. “Oh yeah? So you don’t want my strap, hmm?” she teases. With a small whine of frustration, mingled with desire that makes your boypussy throb with need, you concede, “F-fine! Just… please fuck me. I need you, please.”

Slowly, she guides the strap to your entrance, taking her time as she thrusts into you. Your cunt grips the toy like a vice during those slow, gentle, and sweet thrusts—the hallmark of Wanda’s tender touch. That is until she hears your adorable moans. “Please… please, Wands,” you cry out, your body trembling with pleasure.

“Harder,” you groan, a sound that delights her. “Faster!” you add, and Wanda obliges, increasing the pace as she thrusts into your velvety boypussy. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes off the surrounding walls, and your moans swell in tandem with the deep pleasure you feel.

Wanda’s fingers dig into your hips, pulling you even closer while her silicone cock shifts deeper inside, drawing a choked sob from you. The overwhelming sensation builds a tight coil in your stomach as your orgasm approaches. “Gonna…” your voice trails off into another moan.

“Are you gonna cum, baby?” she coaxes softly, moving her right hand in a slow circle over your clit while her other hand caresses your cheek. Pressing a warm kiss to your lips, she whispers, “Cum for me, my love.” She continues her steady rhythm until you’re falling apart around the strap.

Your body tenses, arching back as waves of orgasmic pleasure consume you. Wanda doesn’t stop her thrusting until she senses that the pulsing in your clit has finally subsided. Gently, she withdraws the strap and sets it aside for later. “You okay?” she asks, tenderly stroking your cheek.

“Mhmm,” you murmur noncommittally, nestling close as she wraps an arm around you. In that intimate moment, it’s clear—you are the cutest boyfriend in the world, and Wanda is utterly in love with you.

About thirty minutes have gone by when Wanda started coaxing you to stand and go towards the bathroom. You both very much needed a shower. You were still somewhat grimy from the mission you had recently come back from, but you and Wanda couldn’t resist having a little of fun before showering.

The shower was quick and painless. A few more orgasms were shared between you two.

Once you’re out, you realize the tape you’ve been binding with is starting to lift. “Hey baby?” you call softly, Wanda turns to you. Already half dressed.

“Can you help me re-apply my tape?” your question makes Wanda smile, she loves that you trust her like this. “Of course, my baby! Come come, let’s get this off you.”

She uses this oil that was made for peeling off trans-tape. Once the old tape is off, she helps you gently clean off the remaining adhesive. “There we go… now for the new tape.”

Wanda goes into the cabinet. Grabbing the small box of tape. She cuts three small pieces and three slightly larger ones. Peeling the back of one piece, she starts helping you apply the binding tape to your chest.

Once fully applied, Wanda kisses your bare sternum. You look down at her, pupils dilated. God, you’re so in love with this woman. She cares for you in ways you never believed anyone ever would.

“I love you,” you murmur. Her smile brightens. Wanda straightens her body and kisses you on the lips. “I love you more, my cutie.”

—

Another time, Wanda had slipped into your hoodie and worn it proudly into the world. It was on a Saturday morning when you had gently nudged her awake, sunlight peeking through the windows like a cheeky intruder. Morning, after all, was not Wanda’s favorite time of day. She had rolled over with a groan, shielding her eyes and burying her head under a pillow to avoid what she felt was an unnecessarily bright sun. Her halfhearted protests had been muffled and sleepy, until she finally relented and got up with a huff. Her movements had been lazy when she pulled on her favorite pair of ripped jeans and a sweater, the latter chosen from the floor without her even looking. It wasn’t until you were both halfway to the café that she realized she'd grabbed your hoodie, but she decided that it was comfortable—and defiantly kept it on.

At the cafe, the air was thick with the smell of espresso and sugar, a hum of quiet chatter in the background. You let Wanda alone for only a moment, leaving her at a small table near the window as you went to retrieve your drinks. In the brief seconds that you were gone, a stranger approached her, the person’s shoes softly scraping against the tiles. With a wide smile, they said, “Hey, I like your hoodie.” Your heart sank, a grimace pressing across your face as you watched from the sidelines, curious and slightly irritated to see how Wanda would handle this unexpected situation.

“Oh? Oh, thanks. I guess.” Wanda’s response was casual, a certain ambivalence in her shrug. She was fully aware that it was your hoodie and not her own, but that was besides the point. A compliment was still a compliment.

The person’s smile grew even wider as if encouraged. “Of course! What’s your name? You’re quite a pretty lady,” they said, leaning in slightly. The words nudged a sharp annoyance into your chest. Wanda was indeed stunning, beautiful in every way, but she was with you. She was not available. She was yours.

Without hesitation, you decided to intervene. “Oh baby! Here’s your tea, just how you like it.” You announced loudly enough for the person to hear, your possessiveness sliding into your voice. You pressed a quick kiss to Wanda’s temple, savoring the fading of the intruder's smile. Realization washed over the person’s face. They clearly hadn’t recognized that your relationship with Wanda was romantic. Until you appeared, you two seemed like nothing more than friends to them.

“Thanks, handsome! Sorry, I didn’t get your name…” Wanda turned back to the now-fumbling person. Who, embarrassed, waved off the question and mumbled something about needing to go order. You couldn’t help but smirk.

Sitting down together in the now-relaxed space, you both chatted leisurely. About your plans, about how best to spend the rest of the day, how indecisive you both were. “So, how’s my hoodie treating you?” An amused grin crept over your lips, feeling confident in a way you didn’t around others. Watching the soft blush paint her cheeks was powerful, intoxicating. She hadn’t blushed for the random person earlier, but here she was, bashful from your silly comment. “You think I’m hot in your hoodie, don’t you?” she teased back, her tone playful.

“Obviously. It’s hot when my girlfriend where’s my clothes.”

“You’re annoying.” Wanda giggled, the sound light and sweet, her eyes crinkling with mirth and affection.

Your smirk softened into a look full of true adoration. “You love me.”

Wanda nodded with playful certainty, reaching across the table to take your hand and weaving her fingers between yours. You watched her press a gentle kiss to your palm, savoring the warmth of the moment and the place. She murmured with a heartfelt and teasing tenderness, “I do. Love you, I do love you.”

There she was. Such a beautiful, intelligent, and caring girlfriend you have. Sitting there in your hoodie, looking like she had stolen the world. 

By the time you both got home, it was dark and the world outside was quieting down. There was a stillness in the compound as Wanda immediately sank into the couch with a satisfied sigh. She was like a cat finding a perfect sunbeam. You opened the windows and settled down beside her with a blanket to watch the sky put on its own show of stars.

Neither of you were hungry yet, so you decided to wait until later to make dinner. Wanda stretched out, using your lap as a pillow, and you idly played with her hair while talking about everything and nothing.

Loving you was never difficult. How could it be? You’re incredibly sweet—perhaps even too sweet. Rio’s eyes were fixed on you as you eagerly introduced yourself to her co-workers. At times, she wished you weren’t as nice as you are. She hated the way others looked at you, as if they desired you just as much as she does. Unfortunately for them, you’re already hers. She owns you, in a way.

Rio was invited to a pool party by Herb, one of the forensic scientists she works with. He was easily chatting away with other guests, his wife loosely hugging his waist with one arm. Meanwhile, you were sitting there basking the attention that Agatha Harkness was giving you. In reality, you weren’t basking in it; you were discussing your jobs. To Rio, it looked as if her ex was trying to steal you away. After all, they’ve always had similar tastes in men.

You’re unaware of the tension, enthusiastically sharing how you absolutely love working as an art teacher for elementary students. You take joy in putting smiles on kids' faces as you help them explore their creative sides.

It was clear that loving you was easy; Agatha couldn’t help but adore you as well. She knew better than to push Rio’s buttons. But oh, how she has missed Rio, and honestly, she is starting to take a liking to you at the same time.

"Absolutely! It was incredibly adorable. You'd expect kids to be indifferent about paper plate bunnies, but the fifth graders? They were really helpful and kind to the first graders as well!" You continue to express your excitement, a bright smile on your face as you reminisce about the time you substituted for the fifth-grade class while managing your own students too.

That smile was driving Agatha's mind into overdrive. Would you still smile at her like that if she had you on your knees, begging? She bit her bottom lip, which seemed to be the final straw, seeing as Rio rushed over. He wrapped both arms around your waist from behind and said, "Oh, mi amor! Are you thirsty? Let me get you a refill." As he deliberately pressed a kiss to your jaw, he shot a smirk toward Agatha, who simply smiled back.

Rio gently tugs you toward the snack and drink table, humming softly as she does so. Her hand rests possessively on your waist. She isn't jealous of Agatha; rather, she's simply annoyed that Agatha dared to look at you with those dark eyes of hers, especially after their falling out.

2022 :

"I'm sorry Ms. Vidal, Ms. Harkness… The adoption for Nicky was declined. You two have very time consuming jobs, our social workers believe you won't be able to take care of him the way he needs." Those words hurt. Rio glanced at Agatha whose body language was tense.

She turns her head back to the woman sitting before them. "So we can’t be Nicky’s parents? We’ve been fostering him for months! Almost a year!" Rio’s voice trembled with emotion. Emotion she often wouldn’t show. In this case; she can’t help it. Nicky was—no, is her son.

A sigh left the woman’s lips. "My deepest apologies, Ms. Vidal. If it was up to me this would’ve gone differently." Agatha clicks her tongue at that response. "It should’ve gone differently. Nicky is our son."

Ever since that day, Agatha and Rio had numerous arguments. Nicky was placed in a new foster home, and they couldn’t stop blaming each other. Agatha believed that if Rio would just give up her title as detective, everything would be fine. However, Rio was unwilling to relinquish the progress she had worked so hard to achieve. She fought for her title, and there was no way she would go back to being a training officer.

The ongoing conflict led to a breakup neither desired. Regardless, Agatha will always be Rio’s first love, and vice versa.

Present Day :

"Here you go, baby." Rio hands you the drink, purposefully brushing her fingers against yours. Agatha watches from the sidelines, torn between wanting Rio back and not wanting to jeopardize your relationship with the detective. You both seem so in love and perfect for each other. "Thank you!" Your eager smile only reinforces Agatha’s feelings. You seem like everything she couldn’t be. But you’re far from perfect, and Agatha doesn’t realize that because she only knows you as a friend.

You’ve been friends with Agatha and Rio for a while. When you first started dating Rio, you felt a lot of guilt because Agatha is also your friend, and you care deeply about her. Even though you know there is some unresolved tension between Agatha and Rio, you still care about both of them. "Oh Agnes!" Sharon—Mrs Hart smiles brightly. Standing in front of Agatha. Sharon always messed up Agatha’s name and the older woman couldn’t seem to correct her. "Mrs. Hart, how are you?" she smiles sweetly.

"I’m lovely, dear! How are you and the girlfriend?" oh that stings. How does one awkwardly admit that Rio is no longer their girlfriend and is in fact dating their mutual friend now? Oof.

Agatha's finger twitches as she forces a smile. "Haha, about that. We're not together; she has a boyfriend." She sighs, wrapping her arms around herself protectively.

Your giggles catch Agatha’s attention again. You’re sitting on the grass next to Rio, who has a cigarette between her fingers. She playfully blows the smoke in your direction, making sure to avoid your face as much as possible. "Rio, stop that!" you chuckle, gently poking her in the rib.

Agatha leans against the chair behind her, slowly sitting down. Sharon is going on about how breakups happen and insists that everything will be okay, that Agatha will find someone else too. But Agatha doesn’t want anyone else; she wants Rio. And deep down, she wants you as well.

Rio’s signature smirk, your laughter, and the way the two of you are so comfortable with each other make Agatha want to be part of it. She wants to fit into your dynamic. "Agnes?" That high-pitched voice is becoming insufferable. "It’s Agatha! Agatha Harkness," she grumbles, impatiently tapping her foot on the ground. Sharon shrinks back, meekly apologizing before shuffling off to talk to someone more delightful.

Your gaze shifts to Agatha, who appears to be feeling down. A frown forms on your lips. "Babe, you should try to be friendlier with Aggie," you say, resting your hand on Rio’s knee. She huffs in response and takes a long drag from her cigarette.

"She’s fine. It’s not like she’s lonely."

"She looks really lonely right now." A sigh escapes your lips, prompting Rio to glance at Agatha, who is currently scrolling through her phone. She resembles a teenager who didn’t want to attend the party but felt forced to go.

It was unusual for Rio to forgive someone, and the same went for Agatha. This is why they haven't been getting along. Rio still holds some love in her heart for the lawyer, even though she has fallen deeply in love with you. She can't shake the feeling of being in love with both her ex and you at the same time. Standing up, she hands you the cigarette. You don’t smoke, but you’re good at holding it, and it makes you look attractive. She then walks over to the sulking Agatha.

"Stop sulking. Come hang out with Bunny and me," Rio says dryly, encouraging Agatha to slowly lift her gaze to the detective. "Bunny" has been your nickname between the two of them since the day they met you, as you were always so skittish, like a bunny. "You don't really mean that. He told you to come here," she replies.

Rio groans internally. Stubborn, stubborn Agatha. "No, he told me to be friendlier to you. Not that I should ask you to hang. Now come on. You cry baby." Without waiting for a response, Rio takes the slightly older woman’s wrist and gently pulls her back to where you are sitting.

"Aggie, Rio!" You smile as you hand the cigarette back to your girlfriend. Agatha sits down beside you, looking stiff. The conversation starts off awkwardly.

You got Rio to talk to Agatha. It’s a start. You’ve been missing your trio hangouts with them and wished they had stayed together, that you could have managed to be with both of them.

A soft laugh escapes Rio's lips, and it surprises you. You've heard her laugh like this before, but usually it's in response to something you've said. "Oh, don’t laugh! It wasn’t funny; my ass really hurt!" Agatha chuckles, and Rio laughs even harder. "Well, you shouldn't have fallen, then."

They were laughing, genuinely laughing. Your eyes light up. They could truly become friends again, or at least, you hope.

The yearning you all three have for each other had been mutual for years. During Agatha and Rio’s relationship, they would tease each other about you. Make up possible sex scenarios that involved you to get each other off.