Notes: Fluff, banter, minor angst, technically character death (you're dead), mentions of minor character death, more comfort than hurt, comedy aspects
Summary: You are Death's secretary. When she can't remember how you died, she convinces you to tell her over dinner.
An: This idea comes from that one person on tiktok that does the Death and Secretary skits I think you can find them @ FlickerSpark on tiktok.
Masterlist | Masterlist 2
The natural order of things can be very meticulous at times. While it may seem as though things just happen and the process is self-sufficient that is not always the case.
When it came to the process of dying, there were many steps to make it to eternal bliss or damnation or something in-between.
Death used to handle all of those pesky decisions on her lonesome, but eventually to make her job easier, she got a secretary.
Someone who could handle all the mundane aspects of the life cycle, so that all she had to do was collect the souls. It left the grim reaper with an abundance of free time to run amuck.
Rio loved to run amuck.
You hardly think she was Lady Death with all of the fun she had. There was nearly always a smile on her face, she always had something smug to say, she was something like a light. So bright that you could go blind just by looking at her.
“Y/n, how’s my 4 o’clock looking?”
Her presence startles you as it always does. Rio just likes to pop up unannounced rather than use the door.
You click a few things on your desktop, “Not that busy, but it seems like a lot of accidents. Slipped and fell with knife, choked on dinner, ingesting paint.”
“Ingesting paint does not sound like and accident,” Rio places her hand on her forehead.
You shrug, “All that to say you’re not dealing with the brightest bunch here.”
She groans, “I wish you could come with me on the pick-ups, you have way more patience than I do.”
“True.”
Rio scoffs playfully, “You were supposed to disagree.”
You roll your eyes at her, “Oh no Lady Death you are so patient and kind.”
She laughs at your sarcasm, “I’ll have you know I am very patient. Why do you think people get live past the age 30 now? When I was alive 30 was old, now we got people living past 100.”
You nod in faux-agreement, “Sure, if you say so.”
Rio narrows her eyes, “You’re not… you weren’t 30, right? When you died?”
It’s your turn to laugh, “No, I was not.”
She sighs in relief, “Whew, for a second there I thought-”
“I was 27,” you cut her off.
There aren’t many times that Death is left speechless, but this is one of them.
“And you died how?” She says after a long silence.
A small smirk plays on your lips, “You’re going to have to remember that one.”
“Y/n,” she whines. “People die all day, everyday.”
“But only one of those people is your secretary. Now go reap those empty headed souls, it’s 4,” you shoo her away.
She points a finger at you, “This isn’t over.”
“Looking forward to it," you retort.
When Rio leaves you’re somewhere in the back of her mind. She remembers picking you as her secretary in the 90’s? Maybe it was the 2000’s? There was definitely internet.
She remembers picking you because of how smart you were. Being cute definitely didn’t harm the decision making process. She remembers the confusion when she saw someone like you was supposed to float off in purgatory for eternity.
She comes back into the office when she’s done, opting to use the door for once. She put her elbow on the desk, so that head could rest in her palm.
“Did you kill yourself?”
You don’t look up from your keyboard, “Not exactly.”
“What kind of answer is that?”
You shrug, “The true kind.”
“You’re killing me baby,” Rio puts a dramatic pout on her face.
“Statistically improbable,” you finally look up at her.
Her eyes are scanning over your face, “Ok, clearly I don’t recall, but I want to know. How about, as a sorry for not remembering how you died, I take you out of this stuffy old office? We can get dinner and then you can fill me in on your passing.”
“That kind of sounds like date,” you point out.
Rio just counters, “It sounds like dinner.”
“I can agree to those terms.”
She smirks, “Let’s go then.”
“Right now?”
She extends her hand to you, “No better time than the present.”
You put your hand in hers, “I don't get to get ready?”
Rio’s eyes drag over your figure, “You look perfect, but if wardrobe is a big thing for you, I can take care of that.”
With your hand in hers it’s hard to hide your blush. You can see the cocky smile on her face already forming.
“Let’s just go,” you avert your gaze from her.
With a snap of her fingers you’re at a restaurant table. It’s nothing too fancy, but it’s nice enough to make you wish you’d changed.
“Worrying about your clothes and not having any questions about how you are on Earth again is pretty strange,” Rio whispers from across the table.
“Well in case you missed it I'm having dinner with Death. I feel like the rest is pretty self explanatory,” you toss back at her.
She sends you a lopsided smile, “Then you should trust me not to let you come to a place like this in a hoodie and jeans.”
You glare at her, “You said I looked perfect.”
You look down to find yourself in a more upscale outfit. Something that still felt soft and comfortable against your skin.
“You always look perfect to me,” she says it offhandedly, but there’s something there.
You don’t get a chance to answer before the waiter approaches the table. He’s speaking to you in French. Before you can work out what to say, Rio has ordered for the both of you and sent the waiter along with a joke that makes him chuckle.
“You speak French?”
“Honey I’m Death, I speak every language. Even the one’s that don’t exist anymore,” she teases you.
“So you remember forgotten languages, but not how your secretary died? Interesting.”
Rio pouts, “Did you ever tell me?”
You look at her slyly, “Maybe, maybe not? Shouldn’t you know regardless, I mean you were there.”
She rubs her temple, “I’m always there. For everyone.”
You take pity on her and sit back in your seat, getting a little more comfortable, “Tell me what you remember from when we first met.”
Rio recounts some details, “I remember that your soul was going to purgatory.”
You hum.
She continues, “You had to be wearing that hoodie. You literally wear it almost every day so I'm assuming it's sentimental.”
You nod, “I was wearing the hoodie.”
Rio looks in your eyes, “Did you save someone?”
Your eyes turn a little glossy, “I’d like to think I did, but I died before I really knew for sure.”
The conversation doesn’t progress any further before the food comes. You’re grateful for the break. The two of you eat with lighter small talk sprinkled throughout the dinner.
When you’re done Rio pays and you leave the restaurant. You walk the streets together enjoying the fresh air on your skin. You don't remember the last time you felt it.
Rio’s hand slips into yours at some point. She’s cold, but that's nothing new. You always found her cool skin comforting.
She leads you to a small park. The two of you sit on a bench. Her hand doesn't let go of yours.
“I remember now,” she breaks the silence.
You let out a heavy sigh, “A little brutal, but I did it to myself, I guess.”
Her eyes bore into yours, “No, you didn’t. You did it to save his life.”
You close your eyes to stop the tears from falling. You turn away from her. It might not help, but you can’t help it as you whisper, “Did I save him?”
It was a question you never knew the answer to. Something that haunted you relentlessly. Did you act fast enough to save your son?
“You did.”
Squeezing your eyes closed didn’t stop the tears from falling. He was okay. You had always hoped that when you pushed him out of the way, he survived. Part of you was skeptical, maybe you pushed him too hard or maybe you weren't fast enough. Hell maybe there was another car driving the wrong way on the one-way street.
“I always wondered if I had been quick enough,” there’s a small patch of relief in your voice.
“Life can be such a mysterious thing sometimes,” Rio murmurs.
You wipe at some of your tears, “Why do you say that?”
Rio gently lifts your face, just enough to swipe away your tears with the pad of her thumb, “I lost my son too.”
Your eyes soften for her, “You had a son?”
Rio smiles sadly, “Nicky was only 6 when I lost him.”
“Did you have to-”
She chuckles bitterly, “Of course, I did. I tried to make it as pleasant as possible for him. On the inside it felt like I was dying all over again. His mother never forgave me. I lost everything in one foul swoop.”
Everything is silent for a moment. There’s a heaviness blanketed over the both of you. Yet there is also some comfort knowing that neither of you is alone in this experience. She knows how you feel, and you know how she feels. Two sides of the same coin, with loss as the common denominator.
“I’m sorry, didn’t know that dinner would end in so many negative emotions,” you attempt to joke.
Rio leans into you, “Usually all the trauma comes long after the first date, but we’ve known each other awhile now.”
“Date, I thought you said it was dinner?”
She gets even closer, smiling when you don't back away, “Well it’s just dinner unless we kiss. If we kiss, then it’s date.”
“Is that so?”
Her eyes dart to your lips, “Last time I checked.”
This time you lean in, “Then what are you waiting for."
She doesn’t waste any time planting her lips against yours. It surprises you to find out her lips are warm. They’re plush-like as the carefully mix with yours. You could lose yourself to the sensation.
“You know we could kiss forever. Neither of us need oxygen,” Rio breaks the kiss.
“Then why'd you stop?” You whine.
Rio kisses your cheek, “Because I'm a gentle woman, and this is the first date.”
“Well you have a gap around 2pm tomorrow. Let’s do lunch,” you suggest.
Rio smirks, “Trying to speed up the process, so you can get into my pants?”
You send her coy smile, “And if I was?”
Rio stands from the bench extending her hand to you, “Then I’d say I’m excited for our lunch date.”
You take her hand and she pulls you into her side. Her arm drapes over your shoulder. You nuzzle into her warmth.
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Notes: Requested, angst ig but not really, mentions of homophobia, smut, face-sitting, fingering, positive ending
Summary: Jennifer is your ex-best but after hearing she went into the woods with Low Shoulder after a fire broke out, you go after her.
An: Another Jennifer Check request in the books hope you enjoy it, request are open but I have a few to get through first.
Etc. Masterlist | More Jennifer Check
You hate Jennifer Check. You hate the sway in her hips, the soft glow of her skin, that stupid shiny lip gloss she wears. Girls like her are everything that is wrong with society. She got off on being some mean provocative bitch and you couldn't stand that.
You knew what kind of person Jennifer was because you used to be friends with her. Some would say best friends. However those days were behind you.
After you came out a lot of people turned on you, her being one of them. You couldn't handle the snarky comments or the looks of disgust.
When you fell out with Jennifer, you would've thought that you wronged her. The way she acted as if you were the one that betrayed her.
In truth, you believed that her ego couldn’t fathom the idea of being dropped. She was the one that was supposed to cut people off, not the other way around.
Any opportunity she had to get under your skin she took it. She wanted to see you squirm. Yet you were used to her actions, and though they really did bother you, you’d never let her see you sweat.
That's exactly how you ended up in some lame bar in Devils Kettle. Jennifer had tried to intimidate you into not going, which meant you simply had to be there.
You had heard Low Shoulder was going to be there, but you didn't really like their music that much. It seemed like every other person in your school did, as they were all packed into the place.
“What kind of loser shows up to an event alone? No friends, no date, how sad.”
You already know it's her by the tone. You roll your eyes, “What kind of loser shows up to an event with someone just be preoccupied in another person’s business? It’s pathetic really.”
She huffs, “You know all about being pathetic, don’t you?”
“Sure do, I got to see it up close and personal during our friendship,” your words make her storm off into the crowd.
“Would you just be her friend again, please,” Needy’s choice to stay behind was not at all surprising to you.
“Needy, why would I do that?”
She let out an exasperated sigh, “Because she misses you and you miss her. You guys have been going at it like a married couple since you stopped hanging out.”
“Divorced couple is more like it.”
She shakes her head, “No, it’s not; because all she talks about is you and I’m sure she’s always on your mind.”
Your eyes find her in the crowd. She’s playing it up to some band member on stage. The way her body moves makes something tingle beneath your skin.
“She seems just fine to me, Needy.”
The blonde gives up and joins Jennifer in dancing to the music. You on the other hand zone out, people watching the crowd. It’s not until someone yells fire that you snap out of it.
Soon the people that were dancing, become panicked. They begin screaming, pushing and shoving. You end up getting out of the bar fairly quickly. When you do, you end up stumbling into Needy.
“Where’s Jennifer?” You asks the other girl, searching the crowd.
“S-she went off with the band. I tried to stop her, but-”
Your anxiety doesn’t lessen with that knowledge. It’s not your business, she’s not your friend anymore, but it doesn’t sit right with you.
“Which way did they go?”
Needy points to the forest and you shake your head. You mumble profanities under your breath taking out your pocket knife, as you walk into the dark forest. You listen for sounds and follow what you believe to be a dim light. Something warns you against calling her name, so you don’t.
You hate the woods and the dark and Jennifer. Part of you could not believe that you were doing this. Jennifer is a big girl, if she wanted to go into a creepy creak, with a bunch of weirdos, then that was her business. However, you also knew it was wrong. If you knew about it and anything happened to her, you’d feel like shit.
Maybe Needy was right earlier in the bar, you should just make up. Knowing that you could’ve been burnt to crisp hating someone who you used to call your best friend, didn’t sit right with you.
You squint your eyes as you come across a dim light. There you see the members of the band all encroaching on Jennifer, who was on the ground. She was slowly moving away from them, but there wasn’t anywhere for her to go.
“HEY, GET AWAY FROM HER!”
The boys that were looking at her, turn their attention to you.
“Why don’t you just go on and mind your business,” one of them brandishes a knife.
You point your own knife at them, “I don’t think I will. Jen, come on. I already told Needy I was coming to get you, if we don't come back, she’ll just get the firefighters to come look for us.”
You keep looking at the men while your hand is extended to Jennifer.
“She’s bluffing,” one of the members looks at the front man.
“Are you going to take that chance?”
Jennifer carefully stands and grabs your hand. You pull her into you. You keep the knife pointed at the men as you slowly back away. Once you’re far enough you sprint the rest of the way out the forest, dragging Jennifer along with you.
When the bar is back into your view, you hunch over and place your hands on your knees trying to catch your breath.
“Oh my god, are you guys, ok?” Needy runs up to both of you.
You look over at Jennifer to find her already looking at you, “I want to go home.”
Needy tries to get clarification from you, but you shake your head, “We’ll talk about it later.”
“Y/n.” Jennifer’s voice is small when she speaks, “Take me home, please.”
You’re partially shocked, but you hide it behind a few nods, “Ok.”
The three of you walk back to where you had your cars parked. You tell a quick goodbye to Needy before getting in the driver’s seat of your car. Jennifer climbs wordlessly into the passenger seat.
When you arrive at her house she stays in her place. You give it a few minutes before saying something, “Jennifer, we’re here.”
“My parents aren’t home. Do you- could you come in?”
Your seatbelt is off before she finishes the sentence, “Of course.”
You follow her into her home and up to her room. You stand awkwardly, it feels like a foreign space even though you've been in there before.
“So...”
“I know you hate me, but thank you for saving me anyway.”
You sigh, “You hated me first, Jen. After I came out you didn't really fuck with me.”
“That’s not true,” she rebuts.
“You looked at me differently and I heard you talking shit about me,” you tell her.
“You’re an idiot,” she says getting closer to you.
Your brow furrows in confusion. Her arms link behind your neck and it has you blushing brightly.
“What're you doing?”
She looks at you through her eyelashes, “Yes, I was looking at you differently after. As for talking shit, all I did was defend you from some homophobic assholes.”
“Defending me?”
“Yeah, defending you, doofus. You aren’t the only girl in school that like girls.”
“Oh.”
Her fingers play with the hairs at the back of your neck.
“Oh.”
“Are the dots connecting?”
You are still in disbelief, “You like me?”
Instead of answering she kisses you. Your hands are delicate as the hover over her hips. It’s soft at first, but naturally things pick up.
She pulls you over to the bed, straddling you with ease. As you make out her hand travels into your pants. You jerk your hips upwards at her touch.
She breaks the kiss, but only to put her fingers in her mouth. You watch as she sucks them eyes hooded, “I like you a lot.”
She slips her shirt over her head, which encourages you to do the same. From your position on your back, you let your hands climb up to her breasts, squeezing them.
She moans and grinds down in your lap. You need more and she is going to let you have whatever you need.
“I- I want you to sit on my face,” you say out of breath.
“Are you su-”
“Now, please,” you beg.
She stands to quickly strip off the rest of her clothes. When she climbs back onto the bed her thighs are resting on either side of your head. Your mouth salivates at the sight of her sticky cunt.
She doesn’t put her full weight on you at first. Your arms wrap around her thighs, making sure she is fully seated before you lap her up. Your tongue is pliant as it moves through the folds, eager to taste her.
“Oh shit,” Jennifer braces her hands on her headboards as you devour her.
You hum ever so often finding yourself addicted to her taste. Your tongue pokes at her entrance which elicits some loud whines from her. The sound was nothing in comparison to when your lips wrap around her clit sucking as though you were trying to get an ice cube through a straw.
Her hips begin rock on your face as she chases her orgasm. She free one hand from the headboard just to hold your face closer to her cunt.
“Fuck, you make me feel so good. I love your tongue. I love your tongue. Letting me ride your face, god I missed you Y/n. Don’t ever leave me, fuck don’t ever leave. Who’s going to make me cum like a desperate little whore, if you don’t?"
Her words only spur you on. Though you feel yourself have to adjust your breathing, you don’t stop. You give her ass a few smacks which has her shuddering against your face. With a final needy taste of her clit she falls apart on your face.
She rises off your face only to connect your lips. Her hand finds it original place in your pants.
“You’re soaked babe, let me help you.”
You nod desperately, not trusting your words at the moment.
She begins to slide your pants down and you raise your hips to help her, pulling your underwear off in the process.
She comes up to kiss you while her fingers play your folds. You whine into the kiss. “Please,” it’s a whisper against her lips.
“It’s hot when you beg,” she says easing two fingers into you. She watches as your face contorts with pleasure as she slowly pumps into you.
She pulls them out causing you to whine again, "come here.”
She readjusts so that she is behind you and you are leaning back into her arms. She pushes her finger back inside of you with a slightly faster pace. Your eyes close as you work on not leaning back fully against the girl.
“Look at yourself, baby.”
Your eyes open and you moan at the image. You can see her fucking you in the vanity mirror. The way her head leans over your shoulder to watch as she thrusts her fingers into you faster by the second.
“I love the way you sound, baby. Such a messy wet hole for me. Cum on my fingers so I can shove them in that pretty mouth. Want you to taste yourself? See how sweet you are, how my fingers make your pussy taste. So sweet for me.”
Her words send you over the edge and if weren’t for her arm keeping you in place, you would’ve sprung out of her grip. You feel your chest heaving as you finally lean back against Jennifer. She brings you down, before removing her fingers from your cunt.
She kisses your shoulder, eyes locked on the image in the mirror. Her fingers make their way to your mouth and you take them gingerly. Your eyes open to watch your reflection as you suck them off.
Once you’re done with her fingers, she tilts your head towards her to kiss you. Her tongue travels your mouth, eager to taste. The kiss de-escalates unlike the first one. By the end of it she’s pecking your lips sweetly.
She tightens her grip on your torso.
“You’re my girl now.” She pauses, “If that’s something you want.”
You interlock your finger with hers, bringing her hand up to place a soft kiss on it. “I’d like that.”
After your post-sex shower, Jennifer found herself laying in your arms. Her head on your chest, listening to the sound of your heartbeat. The girl she had been crushing on for the longest, the girl that saved her life, her best friend.
Summary: You befriend Wanda, a regular at the library you work at, after learning about her divorce. The friendship becomes something more one day when you come over to help her with her sick kids. As your relationship progresses you even talk about buying a home together, which leads to a physical manifestation of how much you love each other.
An: It took me awhile because I got a little carried away. I hope I did your request justice 🙇♀️.
Masterlist
You enjoyed the mundane lifestyle that came with working at the library. There was a comfort that came with knowing that you worked in something of a community center. Being able to provide a service that for some was the highlight of their day. In this day and age having regulars at the library was a rarity, especially the adults. Kids would come after school for homework or for research purposes, but the adults were few and far between.
Technically it may have been weird that you had a favorite but you couldn’t help yourself. There was a woman named Wanda, she’d come once a week ask for a recommendation and sit there the whole day and read it.
She’d always make a comment or two on the book on her way out and it made you smile. It was good to know she appreciated your picks. Though there were other staff members she only really asked you.
When she missed one week, you found yourself discouraged. One week turned to two and so forth until it had been a month since you saw the woman.
“Y/n, it looks like your regular is back. She might need a little assistance,” one of your coworkers approaches you.
“What are you talking about?”
They give you a look that says ‘seriously’, “Ms. Recommendations, she’s in the non-fiction section looking a little worse for wear.”
You nod and make your way over to the section. There you find Wanda. Your coworker was not exaggerating. She looked so fragile, it was as if she was just waiting for the tears to fall. She was staring at the books, but it was easy to tell that she wasn’t really reading anything.
“Looking for anything in particular,” you say softly, trying not to startle her.
She seems to snap out of her trance enough to try and answer you, “No, not today.”
It felt like she was speaking on autopilot. If it were another guest, you would’ve let her be, but this was Wanda. Perhaps it was a bit para-social, but it felt like you knew her better than the average customer.
“I- I don’t mean to overstep, but are you alright?”
She lets out a tired sigh, “That obvious?”
You attempt to back track, “No… uh it’s just I haven’t seen you around in a while."
She looks away for a moment, “ Yeah, I um got a divorce. So I’ve been a hermit as of late.”
“Oh, congratulations.”
Wanda can’t help but laugh at your words, “Most people have been saying they’re sorry to hear, but congratulations? It’s kind of refreshing.”
You shrug, “Well I don’t think divorce is always a bad thing. It’s hard for sure, but it’s better than staying in a situation you don't deserve.”
“What if I was in the wrong?’ Her eyes are glued to the floor as she speaks.
“I may be overstepping again, but I doubt that's the case. You don't seem like the kind of person,” your tone doesn't make her argue, instead a look of relief crosses her face.
“I'm not,” she says taking a deep breath.
You smile at her, “Then it’s their loss.”
She smiles back at you, “I guess you’re right.”
Glad to have made her feel even a little bit better, you begin to leave the aisle she's in. You don't get far before there’s a gentle tug on your wrist. You turn back to stare into Wanda’s warm green eyes.
She’s nervous as she speaks, “I don’t know if I’m too old to be doing this, but fuck it. I could really use a friend right now and I was wondering if you’d be open to getting coffee or something, whenever you’re free.”
You stare at her for a few seconds before nodding, “I’m off in about 15 minutes, there’s a café a few blocks over that I think everyone should try at least once.”
Her excitement builds up in her features. She clears her throat to hide it, “I’ll wait for you by the YA novels?”
“Sounds perfect.”
From that day on Wanda wasn’t just a regular customer anymore, she was your genuine friend. She was also one of the sweetest people you had ever met in your life. She was unbelievably strong too.
The details of her divorce were quite messy. A touch of infidelity here and there, mixed with a custody agreement was a recipe for disaster.
You always offered to be there in any way you can for. She usually turns down your more serious offers for help, and sticks to fun small outings. You can tell that she’s somewhat embarrassed by her situation, but you don’t think there’s anything she should be embarrassed about.
“Y/n, I know I said I was free to go out today, but Tommy is sick and Billy isn’t doing that great either, can I give you a rain check?”
She called you and you could hear the tiredness and distress in her voice, “Let me come over and help you, Wands. Two sick kids is rough work, I know you could use a hand.”
She’s silent on the line, but the coughs and sinus filled conversation doesn’t stop.
Wanda sighs, “Okay, do you think you can bring me some medicine? I’ll text you some ingredients I need for soup too if that’s alright?”
“Whatever you need, I’ll see you in a bit,” you say simply.
You follow through on your word picking up various cough, cold, and fever medicines along with some cough drops. You nearly forget about the stuff for the soup, until Wanda texts you something she left off the ingredient list. After picking up everything you head to her house.
You’d been to her house before, but never when her kids were there. You had seen them with her a few times at the library, but back then you didn’t quite deduce that they were her children. It feels so obvious now, but Wanda was definitely a young mom in your opinion, or at least she looked like one.
You rang the doorbell and waited with the groceries in your hand. It took a moment but eventually the door swung open revealing Wanda. Though your hands were full, she’s the one who had bags under her eyes. She looked as though she would fall over any second.
“And you’re sick too, here I figured this would happen,” you rummage through the bags and pull out a medicine that’s for adults.
“You’re a godsend Y/n,” she tries to take the bags from your hands but you don’t let her.
“It’s drowsy.”
You nod, “I know, I figured you need the rest anyway, let me handle its.”
Wanda shakes her head, “Are you crazy? You think you can handle my two kids and me on your own?”
You smile at her, “You underestimate me, Maximoff. Let me show you what I can do.”
“We’ll see, but first come meet them properly.”
You sit the bags down in the kitchen, opting to take the medicine upstairs with you. She takes you to their room.
Tommy is propped up in his bed watching as Billy plays videogames from his spot on the floor.
“Tommy, Billy, this is my friend Y/n. She’s going to help us out today,” Wanda introduces you.
“The library lady,” Billy sounds congested as he speaks.
You nod your head enthusiastically, “ Yep, that’s me. I heard you boys were sick, so I brought some stuff to make you feel better.”
Tommy gags, “Ew medicine.”
You sympathize with him, “Ew is right, but it’s worth it I promise. In fact, I’ll sweeten the deal, you guys take your medicine, and I’ll make you the best soup of your life in return.”
“Better than mom’s?” Billy questions.
“1 million times better,” you egg him on.
Tommy is more hesitant, “I don’t know.”
You get closer to him, crouching so you can meet his level, “How about when you’re feeling better, we go out to the arcade and get some ice cream too?”
That seems to be enough for the boy, “That sounds awesome.”
While you’re chatting with them Wanda starts to prepare the medicine cups for the boys. They take the medicine with all the dramatics that children do.
“Ok, we’ll be back to check on you guys, shortly. Billy, get some socks baby. Tommy stay under the covers sweetheart."
The both of you exit the room and head back down the stairs. Wanda moves to start unloading the groceries, but you stop her.
“If you’re not going to fully rest, at least sit. I can make the soup,” you point to the barstools she has in her kitchen.
“Are you sure? I can help-"
You block her from opening the next bag. She looks into your gaze, which holds no feeling of malice or resentment. Instead she finds a warm and tender look behind your eyes.
“I’ve got it.”
She listens to your directions and takes a seat
She watches as you prep the ingredients, ever so often asking where she keeps certain things. Otherwise there is a fluid motion to your movements in the kitchen.
“You know you don't have to take them to the arcade just because they took the medicine, right?”
You pause slightly from chopping vegetables to look up at her, “I probably should’ve asked if it was okay with you first, but I don’t mind taking them. They seem like good kids, which isn’t a surprise at all considering they’re your kids.”
She beams at your words, “They’re a little more docile in this state, but they can be a handful at times. We haven’t really had a big outing like that since the divorce, I’m sure they’d appreciate it.”
“Then consider it done, as soon as they’re better let me know. We can all go out and have some fun.”
Wanda can’t help the feeling she gets hearing you talk so nonchalantly about going out with her kids. It’s something like a spark that she hasn’t felt in a long time. She takes this time to really look at you, you’re stunning. Truth be told Wanda had always found you a little attractive, but she wrote it off as you just being conventionally good looking. However now, with you standing in her kitchen cooking for her and her kids. She’s starting to think it’s more than that.
“Do you like children, Y/n?”
“I have a soft spot for kids, it’s partially why I chose to work at the library. I had kind of a rough upbringing. It was just me and my mom, and money wasn’t all that great, but I remember her taking me to almost all the community events they hosted at the library. We spent a lot of time there. When I was old enough to go on my own, it was rare that I didn’t go. The library is such a haven for kids it’s one of my favorite things about it.”
Wanda felt herself melting under the sincerity of your words, “That’s really sweet.”
You start cooking down the vegetables before you answer, “Yeah, if I wasn’t so crazy about the library, I would’ve been a chef. I actually applied to a few culinary schools in high school, pretty ambitious but I had won a few competitions. I had offers and full ride scholarships to some of the best schools out there, but I chose to become a librarian instead.”
Wanda tilts her head to the side playfully, “So you weren’t just talking shit when you said you’re going to make a soup 1 million times better than mine.”
You laugh, “Technically I’m using the ingredients that you told me to get, so it’s more like our soup. I’m just tweaking a few measurements and cooking it a little different. It’s like a group project, if you will.”
Wanda laughs even harder, “You’re so full of shit.”
“Language, there are children present.”
Wanda rolls her eyes, “They’re upstairs."
“Children have super good hearing Wanda, trust me, I’m a librarian.”
She shakes her head with a small chuckle. She watches as the soup comes together a lovely aroma fills the kitchen, her mouth waters at just the smell.
“It smells delicious.”
You motion her over to the stove next to you. She scurries over, which makes you smile. She looks utterly adorable and ethereal at the same time. You began to notice it over the last few times you had hung out. Wanda was simultaneously the cutest and the most beautiful woman, you think you’d ever met in your life
“Taste,” you hold a spoon full of soup up for her.
She hesitates a little, but decides to just eat from the spoon while you hold it. Her eyes close as the flavors dance on her tongue. She lets out an involuntary moan, that has her blushing as soon as it leaves her mouth.
“Oh my god, that’s the best soup I’ve ever had in my life,” Wanda stares at you in awe.
“I hope the boys think so too.”
Wanda helps you fill the bowls for them, “They’re going to love it.”
True to her words the boys devour the soup going as far as to ask for seconds. Neither of you can deny them another bowl. Once they eat, you can see the food working in tandem with the medicine to tucker them out. Before they’re completely out of it you and Wanda get them ready for bed.
It feels more normal than either of you expected. By the time you’re done, both twins are in bed. The tv plays something at a low volume, but you and Wanda are both aware that the kids will likely be asleep as soon as you leave the room.
When you leave you head back to the kitchen fixing 2 more bowls of soup for Wanda and yourself. You eat amongst each other with small chatter, it’s comfortable. When you’re done, you almost have to fight Wanda to allow you to do the dishes.
She pouts, once again sitting at the barstool watching you clean.
“You haven’t let me help this whole time,” she whines.
“I’m here to help you, not the other way around,” you remind her.
Wanda places her hands on her hips, “But if you’re doing everything, what am I supposed to do?”
“Just sit there and look pretty,” you say without thinking.
Wanda feels her face heating up, losing track of how many times it has happened today alone, “Look pretty, huh?”
You can feel your ears heating with embarrassment, “oh I- well.”
“Oh my god are your ears turning red, that’s literally adorable. Are you flustered, Y/n?” Wanda teases.
You glare at her with faux-anger, “My ears? Your cheeks are just as red.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about?”
You wash your hands, quickly drying them before approaching her. You keep walking until there is virtually no space between the two of you. You look down at her, you don’t stop your eyes from dropping to her lips.
“Oh really?”
She looks up at you, her cheeks indeed, red like you had mentioned.
“And if they were?”
“Maybe I’d say that it’s adorable,” you use her words against her. “Or maybe…”
“Maybe what?” Her eyes dart to your lips.
You look back into her eyes, “Maybe, I’d kiss you.”
“I’d like that.”
That was all you needed to hear. She met you halfway and, in an instant, you were kissing. Your hand rested on the small of her back, while her hands locked around your neck. It was cliché but it was cute. The kiss itself was respectable, but still filled with a feeling of longing.
Wanda’s hands drop from your neck to lightly push you back, “I’m divorced with two kids Y/n-"
You stop her before she can even rant, “I know, Wanda. I’ve been here, maybe not the whole time, but most of it. I don’t care that you’re divorced and I’d love to get to know your kids. I’d love to get to know you better.”
“I feel like you already know me, Y/n. We’ve been friends for over a year now. We’ve spent so much time together, I’m just surprised you’re not tired of me yet.”
You take her hands in yours, “I could never get tired of you. I’m quite literally asking for more. Let me take you out some time.”
“Are you sure?”
It’s bold, but you place a quick kiss on her lips, “Positive."
From there things just seem to fall into place. You kept your promise to the boys, taking them out when they recovered from their sickness. Wanda was impressed by how well you mingled with them considering her ex always seemed to struggle to relate. However you had no problem tapping into that childlike like amazement that the kids felt.
Soon after that outing, you and Wanda went on your first real date. You took her out to a nice restaurant. It was an upscale establishment, the prices weren’t even on the menu. Wanda tried to fret about how she didn’t know if she deserved this kind of treatment, but you always reassured her.
You believe she deserved the best and as long as you could give it to her you would.
It only took 4 dates before you asked her to be your girlfriend, not being the best at waiting. Luckily for you she agreed and truth be told, if you would’ve asked her on the first date she probably would’ve said yes then.
At this point you’ve been dating for a little over a year. The twins are with their father for the weekend, and Wanda is staying over at your apartment.
The two of you are on the couch. She’s resting in your arms as you watch tv, “Wanda.”
She looks up, “Yes, detka.”
“How attached are you to your house?”
Her eyebrows furrow, “Why?”
You hold her gaze, “Is it crazy if I say that I want us to live together?”
Wanda plays with your fingers, “No, I don't think so.”
You kiss her forehead, “It’s just a thought.”
“You want to buy a house?”
You nod curtly, “We don't have to leave the area, I know the boys have school and I wouldn't want to pull them away or make them start fresh or anything, but I’ve been looking at some homes in the area. Something a little bigger, Billy and Tommy could both have their own rooms and a huge backyard. Maybe a dog, in the future.”
Wanda cups your face gently, pulling you down to kiss her, “I would love to buy a home with you Y/n.”
“Really?”
Wanda kisses you again, “Really.”
“I love you,” your eyes softening as the words fall from your lips.
“I love you too.”
Your lips are connected again, this time neither of you break the kiss. Instead Wanda shifts in your lap to straddle your waist. Her hands playing with the tiny hairs on the back of your neck. Your hands start at her thigh but end up sliding up to her hips, and soon your fingers are in contact with the cool skin of her stomach.
You aren’t able to stop yourself from kissing down her jaw. She moves her hair and cranes her neck to give you more access. Your teeth sink into her neck only for your tongue to soothe the skin. You suck the spot tenderly, causing little whines to emanate from Wanda.
“Y/n,” your name is breathless on her lips.
She doesn't have to say anything else for you to stand up with her still in your arms. You carry her to the bedroom. Once you’re in there and her feet are on the floor, you pull her shirt off. Yours follows after.
Wanda feels herself getting wet under your gaze. The way you take in her bare chest, eyes blown with want. While you stare she gets rid of the rest of her clothes. You eagerly do the same.
You pull her flush against your body. Skin heating upon contact.
“You’re perfect,” your thumb toys with one of her nipples.
Your head dips to take it into your mouth. You suck lightly, ever so often slowly fanning your tongue over the nipple. You do the same to the other nipple, while your hand cups her warmth. You moan at her wetness.
You kiss her tenderly, backing her onto the bed. You’re gentle as you ease two fingers into her. She arches her back slightly, and her kiss becomes sloppier.
“I need you,” she whispers.
You’re in no rush as you slowly build pace. Her finger nails dig into your back.
“More please,” she buries her head in your neck.
You begin pumping at a faster pace, using your thumb to stimulate her clit. Her ragged breaths in your ear only turn you on even more.
You jolt as you feel her hand in-between your legs. Her fingers play through your folds and you hear her gasp in your ear.
“All for me baby?”
You nod, “All for you, Wands. Can I taste you, baby?”
“Fuck,” Wanda murmurs.
She pulls her fingers from you, signaling for you to suck them. You take them in your mouth, swirling you tongue around the digits, high off of your own taste.
Once her fingers exit your mouth, you maneuver down her body. You momentarily take your fingers out of her. She doesn’t have time to complain before you’re sucking on her clit.
“Holy shit,” she entangles her hands through your hair.
You keep eye contact with her as you lick, suck, and slurp her pussy. She throws her head back, taking her lip between her teeth. You can see sweat illuminating her body.
Soon you add your fingers back and you can feel her approaching her edge.
“I love you, I love you, I love you,” she keeps repeating the mantra as she reach her peak.
You don’t stop when she cums on your tongue, only slowing your motions, to help her come back down.
“You did so good for me baby,” you say kissing up to her lips.
She shifts so her thigh is against your dripping cunt, “Your turn, my love. Use me.”
You see her flex her thigh, which causes you to moan, “Fuck, Wanda.”
Your hands rest on her shoulder as you begin to grind down on her. Her hands are on you, but the movements are all yours. Wanda watches with blown eyes as you fuck yourself on her thigh. Her hands climb up your sides to massage your breasts. You bite your lip as her fingers play with your nipples.
Wanda sits up slightly, just enough to get her mouth on your body. She sucks on near the top of your breasts, trailing hickeys across.
“I love it when you make a mess on my thigh, cum for me, moya lyubov.”
You cum all over her thigh. Her arms wrap around your midsection holding you steady as you shake. Her head rests against your chest, listening to your wild heart beat return to normal. She places a delicate kiss on your shoulder.
“I love you.”
You kiss the top of her head, “I love you too.”
Once you’re both cleaned up, you settle in bed for the night. You start out as the big spoon but soon Wanda turns to face you.
“I was so scared before you came into my life," she admits.
“Wanda-"
She shakes her head, “Let me finish. I was so lost, I didn't know what to do, if there was anything I could do to feel like myself again. There were so many days I went through thinking I was unlovable. Then you show up, and all of those feelings and thoughts just leave. I’ve never felt so cared for. You make me remember all of the things I love about myself. You make love seem so easy, it feels obvious when you’re with me. I’ve never experienced a love like you’ve given me and I need you to know I love you too. I’ve never felt what I feel for you with anyone else.”
Wanda starts out loud and sure, but by the end her voice is quiet. She doesn’t break eye contact, fighting against her insecurities.
Her words make emotion swell inside of you. Your voice cracks when you speak, “You are the love of my life. I was doing alright before, but you and the boys are truly everything I’ve been missing in my life. Getting to be with you, a part of your family, it means everything to me Wanda. Thank you, for letting me love you.”
There are no more words shared between the two of you. Wanda kisses you with everything she is feeling and you return her fervor. She pecks you again before burying her head in your chest. You hold her tightly in your arms wondering how you ended up being so lucky.
Summary: When you married Agatha you knew that she loved you, but as time went on you became uncertain.
An: This was a request from ages ago hopefully I did it some justice.
Masterlist | Masterlist 2
She wasn’t coming.
It wasn’t something you questioned any more. It was simply the truth. Agatha was a woman who was used to self-preservation over everything. You knew that when you began pursuing her, but she’d always had a soft spot for you. A side of her that was unknown to anyone else that crossed her path. You were sure she loved you at some point. She wouldn’t have proposed otherwise.
You had to remind yourself of that often.
If you didn’t, you’d be consumed by an unrelenting sadness. She had been a lonely woman when you crossed paths. She had lost everything she held dear; her coven, her first love, her son. Then she found you. Someone unalike anyone she met before. You were so honest. Not innocent or gullible, but you held no malice or treachery in your heart.
She was the most charismatic woman you’d ever. She could sell snake oil to a fucking snake. Agatha was a charmer and easy on the eyes too. She was utterly bewitching.
You intrigued her, at least that’s what she said. You believed it before, but now it was hard for you to think of it as anything other than her loneliness calling out for companionship.
She was so warm at first. She’d reach out to hold your hand, tuck your hair back into place, she’d let her lips curl into a smile as she whispered against your ear. You wouldn’t have been able to pick out her sins just by seeing her interact with you.
Her actions never bothered you much. You relished in the fact she’d let you wash away her sins. Her wrongdoings were things you believed you could love away. If you kissed her scars enough, she would smile down at you. That’s how you knew they were healing. You healed her with a patience and tenderness that she had never known before.
Though every time you healed her it seemed like she’d have fresh scars within the next few days. You knew your wife had a thirst for power. Something from her youth that refused to be satiated no matter how many covens she drained.
You hypothesized that for every coven she killed, she wasn’t only taking their powers; she was taking in their darkness. It felt as though she was carrying their burdens, she was feeling their pain, she was bathing in their atrocities. No witch had clean hands. Some drowned in darkness, but they had all sipped from it’s chalice at least once.
Agatha was always cold after she had killed the witches. She wanted you nowhere near her. She didn’t want your judgement or your comfort. It felt like she didn’t want you in those moments. As her ledger grew, so did the coldness. So, you tried to stop waiting up for her.
Your conscience didn’t allow that. Agatha was capable of handling herself, but the circumstances were to unpredictable to allow you a peaceful rest knowing she wasn’t home.
So even though you knew she wasn’t coming tonight you sat still at the kitchen table. You were whittling down a piece of wood. Nothing artistic, just something to help pass the time.
When your wife staggers into your home, you simply turn your head to look at her. Her hair is wilder than usual, her breathing is shallow, and you could see bruises forming around her arms.
Your movements are slow as you rise from the table and walk over to her. Her body snaps towards you, defensive and on edge.
“Why are up right now?” The frustration in her tone is hard to miss.
“Waited for you,” your answer cautious on your tongue.
She scoffs,” You don’t think I can handle myself? I don’t need you waiting up for me.”
You shook your head, “It’s not just for you. I get peace of mind knowing that you’re here. That you’re safe Agatha.”
“Well, here I am. Are you at peace?”
Your eyes meet hers, looking for the woman you love too soften up for you. The way she used to when you first met. All you saw, all you felt, was a wall.
“Have you gone mute or are you going to answer me. I don’t have all night to stand here in pain.”
You feel your eyes begin to water. You refuse to break, unwilling to be faced with reality of her not caring about your tears.
“It’s morning,” is the only thing manage to say as you walk past her and into the bedroom.
Things only worsen from that point.
You believe that Agatha no longer cared about being lonely. The way she pulled away from you was proof enough. She hardly spoke to you and when she did, she couldn’t look at you. She wouldn’t touch you and when you tried to reach for her, you saw her entire body tense.
The distance wasn’t something you could write off anymore. It was impossible to ignore. Any time the witch left your home, you cried as if she’d never come back. You’d let yourself grieve. The woman you loved didn’t seem to love you anymore.
She had to hate you to put you through this kind of torture. She gave you her love and then ripped it away from slowly and painfully. You almost couldn’t comprehend looking directly at the person you loved but not seeing her at all.
The ring on your finger burned. You thought about taking it off and leaving Agatha. It would hurt, but there was a chance that it would feel better than this. You thought about it so much, but then you’d catch a glimpse of Agatha’s ring finger. Her band never moved from her finger; not when she went out, or ate, or showered. It’s the only thing that made you think that maybe she didn’t hate you.
Agatha could never hate you.
In fact, the only person she hated was herself. How could she have let this happen to your relationship? You were the one person she could say she cared for just as much as her Nicky. Just like she did with him, she was disappointing you. You were suffering because she was inept, because after all these years she’s still scared to love openly.
She tried to fight against the woman who taunted her in the mirror. The reflection that had to remind her that she was unlovable. It taunted her with images of her loved ones dying and others betraying her. Agatha could see the look on her mother’s face when she took her last breath/ When Agatha stole her last breath.
Nothing she loved panned out in her favor. She didn’t want that for you. You deserved better than that, better than her. Yet she let her selfish ways bleed into her relationship. She didn’t want to let you go, because even through this having you around gave her comfort. Looking at you broke her, because she could see just how much she was hurting you. But in the dead of the night sometimes she’d watch you sleep, sweep your loose hair away from your face, and kiss the top of your head. She’d cry then, wishing that she could do something right. She had to fix this or let you go. Sometimes she’d go out in hopes that you’d be gone when she came back.
You never were. She’d come home and find you whittling a piece of wood at the kitchen table each time. It gave her relief and filled her with guilt simultaneously.
“I’ll be back,” Agatha says to you.
It’s rare that she tells you before she goes.
You meet her eyes from your seat at the table, “Be safe.”
She goes to the door and then hesitates. She walks back over to where you are sitting. Before she second guesses herself she places a featherlight kiss in your forehead.
“I love you.”
Neither of you remember how long it’s been since those words have been said. Agatha looks like a wreck waiting to see if you’d be so kind to her.
“I love you too,” your voice is soft, but the conviction is still there.
Agatha feels like she can breathe for the first time in a long time. She doesn’t linger, opting to leave with the warmth of your words.
You watch as she leaves the home. Your heart thudding against your chest, startled by the woman’s action. A flicker of heat in the ice that blanketed your relationship.
It was too early to start whittling. Instead, you decide to clean around the house/ It was all very mundane until it wasn’t.
One second, you’re alone and the next you’re surrounded. Three witches form a circle around you. Demented smiles stretch across each of their faces.
“Looks like the hag actually does care about something,” the one in red speaks.
“What do you want from me?
They burst into laughter like you’ve told the joke of the century. With their heads thrown back and tears pooling at the corners of their eyes. You try to use the moment to your advantage, attempting to run out of the house.
Your sudden movement stopped as the one in blue grabbed a handful of your, slamming your back into the floor. You arch your back off the floor and hiss at the pain.
“You aren’t going anywhere dearie,” the blue capture informs you.
“Live bait is the best bait,” the third witch in black finally speaks up.
The one in red seems to be in charge. She crouches down to get level with you, “We’re going to wait for Agatha to come back. Then we’ll kill you in front of her just like she killed the members of our coven.”
“If we’re lucky, she’ll be so beside herself with grief, we’ll be able to kill her too,” the one in black adds on.
You sit up, locking eyes with the leader, “You might kill me, but you’ll never be able to kill her.”
The leader tilts her head and smiles sweetly at you before grabbing you by the jaw, “Tie her up and tape her mouth.”
Her hand is callous against your face. Her nails dig harshly into your skin, but you keep from squirming. You can tell these are the kind of people that get off on reactions, so you refuse to play into that.
The blue and black captures follow the red one’s instructions. They drag your chair from the kitchen before throwing you on to it without care. They start by tying your arms behind your back. Soon there’s a thick rope against your chest digging into your shirt, forcing you against the chair. The tie your legs last, putting each against one the chair legs. Finally, the stick the duct tape over your mouth, leaving you completely helpless.
“Anything else you wanted to say sweetheart?”
You glare at the trio, but they pay you no mind and start rummaging around your house. You sit there, jaw tense and eyes firm ahead. You guess that it makes sense that eventually Agatha’s actions would catch up to her. Yet she isn’t here to suffer like you are. It did surprise you that she hadn’t tied up these loose ends. Agatha never left any survivors, it was sloppy, and she was a perfectionist. You hoped she’d come home soon put there was a pit in your stomach telling you something else.
She wasn’t coming.
It had been three days. Your limbs ached, the lack of circulation causing them to turn colors. Your captures had been generous enough to allow you to use the restroom, but that was all. They’d tie you back up as soon as it was over. The tape on your lips felt as though it was a part of your body. The three witches have lost interest in your home, having turned it completely upside down. They had been looking for things to use against Agatha, but they came up unsuccessful in their search.
“How come the spell outside was so easy to break, but the one’s in here are so complicated?”
“Who cares, where is Agatha?”
You let out a small noise, it’s as close to laughter as you can get. They set their sights on you. The leader marches up to you ripping the tape right off of your face. It causes you to let out a yelp. The stinging sensation was strong enough to make your eyes well up.
“Did you have something to say?”
You start to laugh, tears streaming freely down your face, “She’s not coming back. I should’ve known by the way she left that she wouldn’t be coming back. I don’t know when she stopped loving me, but she did. Let’s just skip all of the bullshit and melodramatics, just kill me.”
You remember her lips against your forehead. The way she said she loved you before she left, never planning on returning. At least your last memory of her would be sweet. You were just happy that you got to remember her that way. Despite it all, you still love her.
Your words only seem to anger the witches. The leader loses her temper fairly quickly, striking you across the face. She backs away from you only for the other two to take her place. One of them starts striking you across the body, while the other lays into the side of your head. Your hands are tied you can’t defend yourself. All you can do is cry out as they beat you mercilessly.
Suddenly their attack stops. You pry your eyes open to see them frozen in their places. Their eyes move around, but nothing else.
Agatha stands tall in the room. When her eyes land on you, you can see her entire body begin shaking.
“This is what I get for showing you mercy? You come into my home and take my wife captive. You beat her and think you’d live another day?” Her voice cracks when she speaks.
You notice her own tears streaming down her face as she walks towards you. With a flick of her wrist, you’re free from the ropes. You attempt to stand, but you can’t. She’s by your side holding you up. You don’t protest as she scoops you up into her arms and carries you to the bedroom. With a gentleness that you had forgotten, she lays you on the bed.
The way Agatha looks at you breaks your heart, “I’ll only be a second.”
She walks out of the bedroom and, true to her words, she’s back faster than you could imagine. Her eyes scan your entire body when she returns, assessing the damage.
“I didn’t think you were coming back.”
“I heard.” She pauses for a long moment, “I’ve never stopped loving you.”
Agatha is cautious as she approaches you. Her hand is outstretched towards your feet and it moves carefully in a motion up to your head. You could feel the ache in your limbs disappear; the pain you had felt from being beaten was also gone.
“I couldn’t tell,” you are honest.
Agatha sits on the edge of bed. Her hands are clasped tightly together. You watch as she struggles to find the words she wants to say. You place on of your hands on top of hers. She takes your hand in hers. Just soft and warm as you had remembered. She brings your hand up to her lips. Her tears hit your hand before her lips do.
She mumbles against your skin, “I’m so sorry.”
“You stopped letting me in. I couldn’t talk to you, I couldn’t touch you, you were pushing me so far away that I thought you didn’t want me anymore; that you’d rather be lonely,” you move so that you’re sitting next to her.
“I didn’t marry you because I was lonely. I married you because I love you, because I’ve never met anyone that can make me feel like you do. It’s terrifying to know how much I need you. Knowing that I could lose you scares the fuck out of me because there isn’t a reality where it isn’t my fault. You almost died today because of me. I would’ve cost you your life. I’m not scared of being alone, I’m scared that I don’t know how to be enough for you.”
Your thumb cascades over the top of her hand, “You’re stupid, do you know that?”
Agatha blinks, “Only because you tell me so often.”
“Agatha, I love you the way you are. There’s nothing else that I need. I just want you to stop shutting me out. Let me hold your hand, let me lay my head in your lap, and let me kiss your scars away.”
You lift her hand to your lips, kissing it.
“I’ll make it up to you, all this time. I don’t care how long it takes; I don’t ever want you to think I don’t love you again. You’re my better half, forever and always,” there’s determination in her eyes as they meet yours.
You let your gaze drop to her lips. Her hand cups your face and you’re both leaning in. When your lips touch, it feels like relief. Like a declaration of peace of a long war. Agatha finally surrenders her fears to you. You don’t run from them; you’d never run from her.
Things become better than you ever remember them being. Agatha doesn’t pull away anymore, in fact she falls into you. She relishes in your care and you bask in her warmth.
Chat yall can't keep sliding into my inobx complaining about the results of the poll 😭. The reader is g!p 🤷♀️. As the person writing the fic I'm allowed to do what I want and if I want Y/n to have a fat juicy cock then SHE will. It's all fiction anyway, and like I've stated repeatedly THE SMUT WILL NOT BE INTEGRAL TO THE PLOT.
Here's what you can do about it:
Stay, keep reading the fic
Leave, preferably quietly
Skip the smut
If I keep getting negative comments on it, I'll pull the fic from tumblr and only upload on Ao3. Don't make me put yall in the dog house.
You can be disappointed or upset with this decision, but at the end of the day I'm going to have final say when it comes to my writing. Reader is g!p if you don't like feel free to read something else.
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Summary: You drag Agatha Harkness out on a picnic date and she can't believe how much she enjoys it.
An: Mega soft cute fluff. Sorry that it's a little short.
Masterlist
The more Agatha began to think, the more she was genuinely confused as to how she landed herself in this predicament. A picnic date.
It was too pleasant for her usual taste. The sun was up high in the sky, yet a cool breeze made the heat more bearable. People were scattered around the park doing various activities joyfully. There was not an ounce of chaos in sight.
“I’ve never seen someone look so perplexed about a park before,” you comment opening the picnic basket.
Her confusion seemed to clear at the sound of your voice. That’s right, she was here on this beautiful day at the park, because you suggested it.
“I’m not perplexed, it’s just not my usual.”
“Hundreds of years old and parks are mystifying to you,” you tease her.
Agatha deadpans, “Not parks, just you.”
You blush under her gaze, “Whatever, let’s just unpack the picnic.”
Agatha smiles genuinely, helping you unpack the basket. She was pleasantly surprised to find a lot of her favorites tucked away inside.
“So… what now?”
You laugh at her, “Now we enjoy the snacks, the outdoors, and each other.”
Agatha sighs, “It’s so mundane.”
You shake your head, “Does my company bore you?”
Agatha sputters, scooting closer to you, “If that were the case, I wouldn’t be here… at a park. I prefer having you by my side.”
You lay your head in her lap. Her hand finds a place in your hair, and it feels all too natural.
“You’re getting soft,” you say looking up at her.
“You seem to have that kind of effect on me,” she says softly.
You get lost in her aura. The feeling of her hands combing through your hair made you giddy. You reach for the bunch of grape you had packed, picking a single one and holding it up for Agatha to eat.
She looked at you for a long moment before eating the grape from your fingers.
“You want another?”
“Keep em coming sweetheart, if I use my imagination I can taste wine.”
You chuckle at her antics, “You’re adorable.”
She arches an eyebrow, “Adorable? I am Agatha Harkness, feared by all. Cunning, mischievous , hot, I am not adorable.”
“It’s even cuter when you go on those tangents.”
Agatha refuses to look at you as a blush coats her cheeks. However you don’t let her hide from you so easily. You sit up, gently pulling her towards you. You place a small kiss on her lips.
“I swear you’re trying to make me melt today,” Agatha mumbles.
You steal another kiss from her, “Maybe I am.” You lie flat on the blanket encouraging Agatha to do the same. “Look at the clouds with me. That one kind of looks like Señor Scratchy.”
Agatha stares into the sky and truly she only sees white blobs, but she thought better than tell you that. Instead she plays along, pointing out random clouds and attributing their likeness to something.
“That one looks like a broom.”
You intertwine your hands together unconsciously, “I see it, and the one next to it looks like a turtle.”
The excitement in your tone makes Agatha feel all warm inside, “We could get a turtle.”
You turn to face her, “I thought you hated pets?”
“Hate, is a strong word. Besides, I like Señor Scratchy. I think a turtle would be pretty docile in comparison to a dog or cat.”
“What would you name it?”
She shrugs, “I think that’s your domain sweetheart.”
“I don’t know, Señor Scratchy is a great name.”
Agatha thinks for a minute, “Tortellini.”
You burst out in laughter, “Tortellini the turtle? I love it.”
Agatha stares at your side profile as you laugh. The sun beaming down on you in that moment. It was as if you were glowing. Agatha begins to realize that she always feels like you have this glow about you. You carry yourself with a brightness that she can’t help but be affected by.
Her layers of sarcasm, selfishness, and superiority can’t help but peel away in your presence. She wasn’t used to feeling this amount of positive emotion. It was surprising that it wasn’t making her sick. In all truth she could never get sick of you or the ways that you challenged her.
The sweet moments between the two of you the cute dates, Agatha enjoyed it all. She may have even gone as far as to say she loved it. She loved spending time with you, she loved being around you, she loved talking to you.
“Y/n,” your name falling from her lips pulled you out of your laughter.
She hardly ever called you by your name. There was always a term of endearment to replace it. Whenever she did use your name, it felt serious. Yet when you look over to her, you see her eyes shining. You hadn’t seen Agatha scared many times, but it’s easy for you to pinpoint the fear in her eyes.
You hum in response, pulling your interlocked hands up to your lips and placing a gentle kiss on her knuckles.
The large breath she lets out does little to quell either of your nerves.
“I love you.”
Your eyes soften immediately as you stare at the older woman. Agatha waits for you to say something, anything. Her eyes are glued to the picnic blanket.
“Agatha,” her name is light on your tongue.
She hesitates, but eventually meets your gaze. There are tears welling up in your eyes, your emotions overwhelming you entirely.
The witch doesn’t know what to make of the situation. She doesn’t have to wonder for too long before your lips are on hers.
Her lips move against yours tentatively. The kiss is the exact opposite of the fiery woman delivering it. She lets you lead the kiss, hoping she’s reading the moment correctly.
You don’t want to break the kiss, but the breeze reminds you that you’re in a public park. You pull away from her slightly, hands cupping her face as you maintain eye contact.
“I love you too.”
All of the anxiety and fear leaves Agatha’s being. She smiles, fully; a sight that you’re always trying to get out of her.
“I can’t believe you have me confessing my love for you at a park, like some lovesick teenager,” Agatha jokes, smile not leaving her face.
“I always thought I’d say it first. I can't believe you beat me to it.”
Agatha wraps her arms around you, “ I’ll let you have the next relationship milestone, if that’ll make you feel better hun.”
You lean back into her hold, “No, no I like it when you get all nervous. It’s cute.”
Agatha squeezes you a bit causing you to yelp, “You’re lucky that I love you.”
You kiss her cheek, “ I love you too, you big softie.”
Agatha kisses your forehead, before resting her chin on your head.
Summary: Agatha wants you to stop working and come to bed.
Masterlist
Agatha was practicing her patience. That’s what she told herself as she paced back and forth in your bedroom. It had been hours of her waiting, hoping to get some of your company. The one thing in her way was your stupid job. Agatha was not a fan of the long hours you spent on your computer or talking to idiots on the phone.
It was torture, knowing that you were just a few rooms away, but not being able to bother you. Well, she could and often, she did. Which is why tonight she was trying to be patient.
However, she knew that you should’ve been done by now. Your 8-hr shift should’ve been completed nearly an hour ago. So it shouldn’t be a big deal if she were to pop into your study, and wait for you to finish in there.
Agatha walked over to your study, cracking the door ever so slightly. The screen of your desktop dimly lights the room. You’re sat at the desk with your phone to your ear, mumbling about things that Agatha didn’t care to comprehend.
She slipped into the room closing the door behind her softly. Though she was careful, you’re aware of her presence. She smiles brightly when you flash her a quick grin.
With one of your free hands you motion her closer to you. She has to hold back a yelp as you pull her into your lap while you continue your conversation.
Your arm wraps around her midsection keeping her in place. Agatha is sat with her back to you. You figured she’d keep herself busy, playing on the computer, while you talked.
For a while that worked. She did a few online quizzes, played a few word searches, she even put on some headphones to watch a YouTube video.
The older woman turns in your lap, so that now she’s straddling you. The words that you were saying into the phone get stuck in your throat for a moment.
You knew her patience was wearing thin when she started squirming in your lap. You lightly squeezed her hip to signal for her to stop. You heard the huff of annoyance she let out, but decided to ignore it.
Agatha smirks at that reaction. She takes your free hand and slides it under her pajama shirt. You try to keep your eyes stern as you glare at her, but you fail miserably. The softness of her skin never ceases to amaze you.
You pull your hand from under her shirt to mute the phone call for a moment.
“Ags, I’m almost done sweetheart. Just let me finish up real quick and I’ll come to bed.”
She steals a kiss from you, “It’s been nearly 2 hours since you were supposed to be done with work.”
“I know, I know, but this is a really important call, baby.”
Agatha pouts and it almost compels you to end the call right then. The voice on the other line saying hello, snaps you out of it. You give Agatha an apologetic look before unmuting, and resuming the call.
The older woman sighs. She grabs your hand and starts playing with your fingertips. She begins to trace patterns, trying to stop her disinterest. Her tiredness starts to get to her.
She tries to stand up, but you keep her in place. Your tired eyes meet hers as you mouth the word ‘stay’. She rolls her eyes, but leans in so her head is buried in your shoulder.
Agatha can’t help herself as she places feather light kisses on the side of your neck. You don’t seem to mind it. That is until she nibbles on your earlobe, “Come to bed.”
She feels your body shiver underneath her, which pulls a smile from her. She pulls back to look at you fully. Her hands slide innocently under your shirt, just resting on your stomach. She sees you exhale deeply, her warm hands against your cold abdomen.
As the person on the other line talks, she can see your eyes getting heavy. Agatha begins to wonder if you’re even awake as small lines leave your mouth ever so often, like an automated message response.
Her hand cups your face, and you sleepily lean into her touch.
Agatha takes the phone out of your hand and mutes the call. Your eyes shoot open fully as you reach to take the phone back from her.
“Enough phone time for tonight. It’s late, you’re falling asleep, and I want to cuddle in bed.”
You don’t argue with her. She places the phone back in your hand, “Mr. Stark, I’m going to have let you go, now. It’s pretty late, do you think we can resume this conversation tomorrow?”
The phone call ends and you close your eyes, leaning into Agatha. You inhale her scent, which helps your entire body relax. After a moment you stand, the woman still in your hold.
She scrambles to get a better hold on you, but you'd never drop her.
“Let’s go to bed,” you kiss the top of her head as you walk to the bedroom.
Agatha mumbles something incoherently into your neck as you reach the bedroom. You’re careful as you lay her down. She makes a gesture grabbing towards you, and you chuckle.
“I’ll be in, in a second, I'm just changing into something comfy.”
When you climb into the bed, her arms are around you in an instant. She pulls you into her, tired eyes opening just to get a peek at you.
You kiss her softly. It’s a delicate thing as your lips move together. It’s the kind of kiss you share when the night is over. No fiery hunger or neediness, just the overwhelming calm of love.
“No more late-night calls from Stark, you call him first thing in the morning,” Agatha snuggles into you.
“Yes ma'am,” you say playfully.
You feel her pull back a little, just enough to meet your eyes, “I love you.”
You’d never grow tired of kissing her, so you do it once more. It’s brief, when your lips touch her’s.
“I love you too.”
The rest of the night is spent in each other’s arms. The last thought that trails through your mind is that you won’t be doing any work tomorrow. All you want to do is stay in this position as long as you can with the love of your life.
Summary: You and your wife, Agatha are busy women with jam packed work schedules. It's rare that you just have time to be lazy. However it seems like fate is on your side as you both have the weekend off.
An: Another post this week, I honestly don't know what's taken over me. Hope you guys have a lovely weekend 🫶.
Masterlist | Masterlist 2
An entire weekend alone together was almost a foreign concept at this point in your relationship. Agatha was a busy woman and so were you. Even if you both managed to snag a weekend alone, it would be filled with social gatherings hosted by your family or friends.
There was truly little time for just you and your wife. However, the stars seemed to align this weekend.
When you wake up on Friday morning, you are surprised to feel her arms wrapped around your waist. You turn in her hold to find her already staring at you.
“You don’t have work?”
She shakes her head, “Not until Monday.”
Your eyes widen, “Me either.”
A smile tugs at Agatha’s lips, “Do we have any plans? Parties, dinners, hangouts?”
You mirror her expression, “The calendars clear.”
She closes her eyes, relief washing over her features. Her hold on you tightens, “Fucking finally.”
You snuggle closer, resting your head on her chest, “I know right.” You reach for her hand intertwining your fingers, “I’ve missed just being lazy with you.”
Agatha kisses your forehead, “Me too, sweetheart.”
You yawn a bit, “Is it early enough for me to go back to sleep?”
“Does it matter?”
You meet her eyes, “Depends on if you’ll be here when I wake up again.”
Her eyes soften, “Won’t move a muscle.”
You settle against her mumbling, “Don’t let me sleep for too long.”
Before she could get a response off, you were out like a light. She relished in having you close like this. There were too many mornings that you didn't get to wake up next to each other.
As Agatha took in your figure, she started to believe no job was worth missing this view. Perhaps she could cut back some on her work hours. She wanted more time for just this.
True to her words, Agatha didn't move until you stirred again a few hours later. It was late morning. As soon as you began to wake up, the woman bolted straight for the bathroom.
You chuckled a bit, “You could’ve moved if you had to pee.”
“I’m a lady of my word,” she calls back to you.
When you two make it out of bed, it’s only to go to the living room. You’re comfortable in one of Agatha’s shirts and some shorts. The other woman ops for a T-shirt and some sweatpants.
You cuddle on the couch while watching tv. You basically lay on top of her, but she enjoys your body weight on her.
“Hungry, we can order something?” Agatha suggests as she plays with the hairs at the base of your neck.
“We should cook something,” you respond.
She laughs, “Babe, I love the enthusiasm, but you know we can’t cook.”
You look up at her, “Let’s try.”
Agatha rolls her eyes, “Try not to burn down the kitchen.”
You slap her arm playfully, “Come on, it’ll be fun.”
“What would we even make?”
You think for a bit, “Friday feels like a burger day.”
“Burgers aren’t too complicated,” Agatha admits.
“Perfect, I’ll order the groceries.”
Agatha raises a brow, “We can go to the store.”
“I’m comfortable right here,” you insists.
“Of course you are,” Agatha says flatly.
You challenge her, “I can get up if you want.”
Her arms tighten around you, “Don’t be ridiculous.”
You turn your attention back to the TV, “That’s what I thought.”
You stay in that position until the groceries get there. Finding a quick and easy burger recipe was not hard.
While Agatha was rigid in the kitchen, you were more fluid. Though you both were equally clueless. She saw you making educated guesses regarding the seasoning to the ground beef, and was going to step in. However, you redirected her to chopping the vegetables.
“I could cut them and you can take over the seasoning if you want?”
Agatha shook her head, “Not a chance. You and a big knife, not happening.”
You sigh, “That was years ago.”
She gave you a pointed look, “You nearly lost your finger.”
You shrug, “They sewed it back on.”
“And if they hadn’t, you would’ve had one less finger.”
“You only care because it’s one of the fingers I use to-”
“Focus on the task at hand,” Agatha cut you off.
You made a couple of patties out of the beef, before heating a skillet to cook them. Agatha demanded to be in charge of the cooking, scared that you would hurt yourself. While she focused on the patties, you toasted and prepared the buns.
“Fuck,” you say in an exasperated tone.
“What?”
You pout, “I didn’t get fries.”
Agatha smiles, “That’s fine, we have some chips. A potato is a potato."
You love the way she looks standing over the stove, spatula in her hand. Her words instantly placate you. Truthfully, you loved how Agatha always had a fix for your problems. Her solutions were simple and highly successful. She regularly saved you from stressing over the minute details of life.
You go up behind her, snaking your arms around her waist and resting your head on her back.
“I’m so glad I get to spend the rest of my life with you.”
Agatha has a blush creeping on her cheeks, but she keeps her composure, “Because I said we can eat chips instead of fries?”
You don’t let her escape the compliment, “No, because you’re the most enticing woman I’ve ever met.”
Agatha’s demeanor softens, “I love you.”
You kiss her, your hand rests on her cheek, “I love you too. Don’t forget the cheese on the burgers.”
Agatha chuckles, lightly pushing you away from the stove. You passed her the slices of cheese from the fridge. She put a lid on so the cheese would quickly melt. In no time the burgers were ready.
You assembled them for the both of you, with some chips on the side. As you guys sat and ate, you shared conversations about your weeks. The parts that you hadn’t got a chance to share with each other. The meal was surprisingly good, it warmed both of you.
You wouldn’t say it out loud because it was corny, but you knew that anything that you and Agatha made together had to be good. It just made sense to you.
When you were done the two of you cleaned the kitchen. You washed and she dried the dishes, in a comfortable silence.
“Well now what?”
“You smell like burgers, so a shower maybe,” you point out.
Agatha smirks, “Care to join me?”
“Those were my intentions,” you wink at her.
“Any other intentions I should know about?”
You act aloof, “What ever do you mean?”
“Uh huh, let’s go buttercup.”
Though you had been teasing each other before nothing nefarious happens in the shower. In fact everything has a lighthearted kind of softness to it. There’s a shyness between the two of you. You're stealing glances at the woman you've seen naked more times than you can remember. Agatha's eyes ask for permission before helping you wash your body. It’s all very innocent.
When you get out, you decide to put on your sleep shirt. You figure that you’re retiring to the room, so you hop in bed. Agatha follows your lead plopping down next to you.
You both lay, scrolling on your phones. Agatha lays on her side while you’re flat on your back. She tugs your hand and you shimmy closer to her, throwing one of your legs between her’s. The motion is thoughtless as you continue to look at your phone.
You don’t expect it when Agatha snatches the device out of your hand.
“It’s going to cost you to get it back.”
You reach for the phone, failing miserably as you try to grasp it, “And what will it cost me?”
“A kiss.”
You let out an amused huff of air, “Just one?”
Agatha pretends to ponder, “A few.”
“Alright then, deal. A few kisses then I can go back to doom scrolling on Tumblr.”
Agatha sits your phone on the night stand. There’s a gleam in her eyes. One that should let you know that she was up to no good.
You pucker your lips childishly at the older woman, “Ready for my kisses.”
Agatha doesn’t even give you a chance. She places a hand on your waist and begins placing kisses all over your face. Wherever she can get her lips, she kisses.
You laugh at her antics, your voice shrill as she attacks you with kisses, “Agatha!”
She doesn’t stop, instead she takes the hand that was holding yours and extends your arm out. She kisses down and up your arm before locking eyes with you. She has a playfully smolder on her face, “You light my soul on fire.”
You can’t help but let out boisterous laughter. There’s a few helpless tugs on your end, attempts of freeing yourself from Agatha. However, the woman has no plans of letting you go.
Your chest heaves up and down as you attempt to catch your breath. Your eyes shine as they look into hers, “You fill me with warmth.”
Her lips meet yours. The playful energy has disappeared. You feel the atmosphere shifting in real time. Her lips moves against yours, almost hesitating. You meet her tentatively, in no rush to break this bubble that you’re in.
Her breath is minty like your shared toothpaste. The coolness matches the tempo of the kiss. You shiver as Agatha’s hand begins to slide up your bare thigh.
Your breath hitches when her fingers slip past the elastic of your underwear.
“Agatha,” you mumble her name against her lips.
Her eyes open, and they’re loving as the meet yours.
“Can I make you feel good, pretty girl?”
You nod slowly. In a much more deliberate way, she kisses your chin, the base your neck, your collarbone. You pull your shirt over your head in one swift move. She kisses the middle of your chest, before cupping your left breast in her hand.
Your back arches when her mouth takes in your hardened nipple. At first, she’s lost in the feeling of the hard bud in her mouth. Her eyes closed as she licks, sucks, and nips, the sensitive area. It’s when she switches to the right breast, that she keeps eyes contact with you.
Your thumb swipes across her cheek tenderly, “Fuck, I love it when you look at me. Don’t stop, I want you to see how good you make me feel, Aggie."
Once she releases your nipple, she continues to kiss down your abdomen. She’s halfway down when you tuck your finger under her chin. You pull her back up to your lips.
The kiss ends when you tug her shirt over her head. You find yourself staring at her perky breast, once they’re exposed. Agatha kisses your cheek, noticing your staring.
Her tongue slips intto your mouth this time. You let a mewl travel from your mouth into hers, as she kisses you lovingly.
“They’re all yours baby,” she reminds you.
The heat on your face doesn’t stop you from grabbing her breasts in both your hand. You massage them, your fingers twirl her nipples. She moans at the stimulation. You can’t help yourself as your mouth begins sucking at the swells of her breasts. She doesn’t stop you, as you mark her.
While you do that, her fingers travel to their original position between your legs. She can feel a small amount of dampness on your underwear It makes you gasp against your skin.
“So wet for me baby,” Agatha slides her finger over the fabric.
She doesn’t say a word as her fingers drag through your folds. She moves them back and forth a few times, partially unable to believe how soaked you are.
A whimper from you, breaks her trance. She slowly pushes a finger into you, watching your face for any signs of discomfort. She finds none, only your mouth slightly open as she slowly thrusts her finger in you.
The sound alone has Agatha pooling in her own panties. She lowers herself so that she has a better view of your pussy swallowing her finger.
“M-more.”
Agatha adds another finger at your request. She picks up the speed just a little. The breathy sounds that were leaving you, turn more solid. She loved hearing you moan because of her.
“Taking me so good baby,” she mumbles mesmerized by the sight in front of her.
“Your fingers were made to be inside of me,” you manage to squeeze out of your mouth.
“I feel you building up for me. I have to taste you before you cum,” Agatha licks her lips.
Soon her head is dipping down. While her fingers pump into you, she guides her tongue down your pussy. The first thing she thinks as she taste you, is that she never wants to stop. You taste like heaven to her.
She’s tempted to remove her fingers and fuck you with her tongue, but she wouldn't do that too you while you're this close. Your hips rock into her fingers as your desperation begins to peek through.
“Agatha, I need to- please,” a plea falls from your lips.
Agatha doesn’t respond verbally. Instead she flicks your clit with her tongue before sucking it like a lollipop. She does it twice more using the hand that’s not inside of you to rub tight circles on your clit.
“Oh fuck,” escapes you as you grip a handful of Agatha’s hair.
She sticks her tongue out just enough to feel your clit pulsating against it. She’s eating it lazily as your high comes down.
“You’re so perfect,” you say to her, pulling her back up to meet your lips.
You don’t know when she took her panties off, but she did. Her slick pussy was making a mess all over your thigh. You couldn’t find yourself to care as she began wiggling her hips as you kissed.
Your hands rest in the dips of her hips, “Let me help you.”
Rhythmically you guide her in riding your thigh. You tense the muscle and you watch her throw her head back. You kiss along her neck while she humps your thigh. You lick long stripes ending with delicate kiss.
“I’m going to cum all over your thigh, baby.”
You keep eye contact with her as you suck on her nipple. Your hands still dictating the swing of her hips.
“Kiss me,” she commands.
Your lips smash against hers. Her hand on the back of your neck keeps you kissing her. Her hips stutter and you feel her muscles go stiff then slack. Her head falls into your shoulder. She leaves a light kiss there.
“I think we were supposed to do that before the shower,” you joke lightly.
“Shut up,” Agatha jokes back.
You kiss her forehead, “I love you.”
“I love you too,” she raises her head briefly to peck your lips.
The rest of your weekend follows a similar pattern. Both you and Agatha realize that you aren’t willing to give it up. Both of you changing your work schedules, so you can spend the weekends wrapped up in each other.
