Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The sun’s warmth begins to fade outside, giving way to a quiet breeze that whispers through the open window. It dances across your bare skin with a cool touch, raising goosebumps in its wake. Soft music plays in the background, and you hum along without thinking. Sitting on the edge of your bed, hair still damp and clinging to your neck from the shower, you hear the familiar buzz of a text. You reach for your phone, water still trailing down your arm, and glance at the screen - a message from the babysitting agency: an emergency request for a sitter tonight. Double Pay. 

Since moving to California, money is tight. Not the best financial decision you've ever made, but the right one nonetheless. The timing of this job is perfect. You type back quickly, confirming you can take it. A few seconds later, the agency responds with the address and a brief note about the family. You sit up a little straighter, already shifting into work mode. Time to get ready. You stand, towel slipping from your shoulders, and head to the closet to find something clean but comfortable. Your mind races through a mental checklist: ID, keys, snacks for the road. In the background, the music plays on, soft and steady.

You quickly change into a pair of workout leggings and a loose tee, comfortable but practical. After a quick blow-dry, you gather your hair into a messy bun, not bothering for perfection. You throw your overnight bag over your shoulder, taking a moment to glance around the room before heading out the door to your car. The drive to the family isn’t far, but with LA traffic, it’s going to be a close call.

With seconds to spare, you pull into the driveway of a house, grand in size. What could these people possibly do for a living?

Grabbing your bag from the back seat, you make your way to the front door and press the doorbell. Silence. You give the wooden frame a couple of quick taps, just as the sound of approaching footsteps breaks the stillness.

A woman’s silhouette appears behind the frosted glass, visibly fumbling with an earring as she moves closer.

“Coming, coming, sorry!” the woman calls out as she opens the door, stepping aside to usher you in.

“Evening! You must be Y/N. Lovely to meet you, I’m Agatha.”

You're drawn to her the moment she opens the door. There’s something commanding in the way she carries herself; confident, grounded, and unapologetically sure of who she is. Her hair falls over her shoulders with casual ease, and her dress fits in a way that shows she knows how to own a room without trying too hard. She has a presence that feels both warm and in control, like someone used to being listened to. As you inhale, a hint of floral perfume lingers in the air, subtle, but impossible to ignore, much like her.

"Y-yes, yes, I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you too," you manage to say, stumbling over your words. "I... wow, you look lovely."

It feels like an understatement. She looks phenomenal.

"Oh, why thank you, dear. How kind of you," she replies with a warm smile, and for a moment, the air around you feels heavier, charged. "Let me introduce you to Nicky. He’s pretty great, though as his mom, I suppose I have to say that."

She laughs, easy and genuine, and you find yourself smiling back as a quiet chuckle escapes you. You follow her down the hallway toward the lounge, still trying to gather yourself.

The décor along the walls catches your eye, unusual and unlike anything you’ve seen before. The furniture carries the weight of history, each piece rich with character, while the wallpaper speaks of quiet luxury.

Your gaze shifts to a collection of family photos, carefully arranged and lovingly displayed.

One image holds your attention. Another woman. There’s something about her, a quiet intensity that draws you in. She’s beautiful in a way that feels timeless, with a shadow in her eyes that hints at stories untold.

You linger, perhaps longer than you should, unable to look away. A soft smile finds its way to your lips, unbidden.

"That's Rio. She’ll be down in a minute. She only just got out of the shower," Agatha says with a sigh, her voice tinged with mild irritation at her partner’s lateness.

"You have a beautiful family," you reply, stepping toward the young boy sitting cross-legged on the floor with a colouring pencil in hand. He looks to be about seven, maybe eight. His tongue pokes out slightly in concentration as he fills in a bright red cape on what appears to be a superhero.

"Hey there," you say gently, crouching down beside him. "That’s a cool drawing. Is he flying or getting ready to save someone?"

The boy glances up at you with wide, curious eyes. "He’s flying. He’s got fire powers," he replies, holding up the picture with a touch of pride.

"Fire powers? That’s awesome. I’m Y/N, by the way."

"I’m Nicky," he says, then returns to shading in flames with an orange pencil.

You smile and watch for a moment, the quiet energy between you settling comfortably. Just then, another set of footsteps approaches, joining you in the lounge.

"Do you know where my suspenders are? I can't seem to find them anywh-oh, we have a guest," she says, appearing suddenly in the doorway, her movements hurried and distracted. Her eyes land on you, and she straightens slightly, surprise flickering across her face.

You rise to your feet and offer your hand. "Hi, I’m Y/N. I’m the babysitter for the evening.”

She takes your hand with a firm grip, her touch lingering just a moment longer than expected. A slow smirk tugs at the corner of her lips as her eyes sweep over you, deliberate and unhurried. "Well, aren’t you a pretty little thing," she says, her voice low and playful. There’s a glint of amusement in her gaze, and something else too, something that lingers like heat in the air between you, before she finally releases your hand.

Agatha raises an eyebrow as she watches the exchange, arms crossing loosely over her chest. “Rio, really?” she says, her tone light but laced with a hint of mock disapproval. “You’re meant to be getting dressed, not eyeing up the babysitter.”

Rio chuckles, clearly unbothered. “Can’t I do both?” she tosses over her shoulder as she heads for the stairs.

“Your suspenders are in the top drawer of the chest, try not to tear the place apart looking for them this time,” Agatha calls after her with a knowing smile.

Once Rio disappears upstairs, Agatha turns back to you with a warm but more focused expression.

“Okay, so Nicky’s already had dinner, he just needs a snack before bed. He’ll ask for chocolate, but try to keep it light or he’ll be bouncing off the walls. Bedtime is at eight, though he’ll try to push for eight-thirty if you let him talk you into one more story.” She pauses, then adds with a smile, “He’s good, honestly. Just a bit of a negotiator.”

You nod, taking it all in as Agatha reaches for her coat and bag. “We shouldn’t be too late, but feel free to help yourself to anything in the kitchen. If there’s any trouble, my number’s on the fridge.”

Just as she’s adjusting her coat, you hear Rio’s footsteps returning from upstairs. 

Just as Agatha slips her coat on, Rio reappears, now fully dressed and tugging her suspenders into place with a little flair. She gives you a wink in passing before turning her attention to Nicky.

“There’s my little man,” she says, kneeling beside him. “You going to be good tonight?”

Nicky nods solemnly, but there’s a cheeky sparkle in his eyes. “I’ll be good if I can have two stories.”

Agatha laughs softly and bends down to kiss the top of his head. “One story, and no bargaining. Don’t make Y/N call us, okay?”

He sighs dramatically but nods. “Okay. One story.”

Rio leans in, ruffles his hair gently, then glances at you with a smirk. “If he gives you trouble, bribe him with marshmallows. Works every time.”

“Rio,” Agatha says in warning, but there’s no real weight behind it. The two women share a look - half amused, half fond - before Agatha straightens up.

“Alright, we’re off. Thanks again,” she says to you, reaching for her keys.

“Don’t have too much fun without us,” Rio adds with a grin, and then the front door clicks shut behind them, leaving the house quiet for the first time that evening.

Between entertaining, feeding, and eventually settling Nicky into bed, your mind never strays far from the two women who left you in a haze of perfume and flirtation. Images of Agatha’s dress clinging perfectly to her waist flicker behind your eyes, each detail burned into memory. And then there’s Rio - her smirk, her eyes, the deliberate way she looked at you just before stepping out the door. That one glance has been echoing in your chest all night.

The hands on the clock read 1am when you hear the soft hum of a cab pulling up outside, followed by the unmistakable sound of giggling and whispered shushes as they make their way along the path. You draw in a deep breath, hoping the extra air will steady you, maybe stop your thoughts from tripping over themselves.

It doesn’t.

The front door creaks open moments later, the soft shuffle of heels and the occasional laugh filling the hallway. Agatha and Rio are home.

“Oh, look who’s still awake,” Rio teases, her voice a little slurred, but no less alluring. She leans against the doorframe, eyes glinting with mischief as she scans you, her gaze lingering just a second too long on your lips. “I thought for sure you’d be in bed by now, all tired out from the little one.”

Agatha steps in behind her, her movements smooth and easy, but there’s a playful tilt to her lips as she sees you. “Don’t mind Rio. She’s had a little too much fun tonight,” she says with a knowing smile, brushing past her partner to pour herself a glass of water from the kitchen.

Rio pushes off the doorframe and moves toward you, her steps slower than usual, but just as confident. She stops a few inches away, leaning in close enough that you can feel the warmth of her breath against your skin. “But I think you should stay awake a little longer,” she murmurs, her voice low and teasing. “I bet we could make it worth your while.”

Agatha chuckles softly from the kitchen, evident that she’s listening, the tension building between the three of you. Rio’s hand brushes against your arm as she straightens, clearly waiting for your reaction.

“I-um, well…” you fumble, eyes making a quick glance toward the kitchen.

Rio’s smirk deepens as she watches you, her gaze steady and filled with mischief. The air between you crackles with tension, her nearness setting your skin alight. She leans in just a little closer, close enough that you can feel the warmth of her body and the sweet, spiced scent of her perfume.

“You know,” she murmurs, voice honey-smooth and heavy with suggestion, “Agatha and I don’t mind sharing... if you’re interested.”

Your breath catches before you can respond. Her words hit you low in the stomach, igniting something raw and wanting. Your mouth opens slightly, but nothing comes out right away. You can only stare back, heartbeat thudding, heat creeping up your neck. You weren’t prepared for this, how direct she’d be, how good it would feel to have her attention so focused, so intimate. A part of you aches to lean into it, to say yes, to let her take you apart slowly right there in the soft glow of the hallway light.

But before you can say anything, Agatha, who has been quietly observing from the kitchen, steps in. She folds her arms, the curve of a smile playing on her lips as she regards the two of you. “Rio,” she says gently, “you’ve had a bit to drink, love. Maybe... maybe it’s not the best time for this.”

There’s no judgment in her voice, just a calm certainty that grounds the moment. You glance at her, feeling a strange mixture of relief and disappointment. It’s clear she’s looking out for everyone - Rio, herself, and you.

Rio pouts, clearly not ready to let the moment slip away. “Oh, come on, Agatha. What’s the harm?” she says with a little laugh, then turns her attention back to you. Her eyes sweep over you again, slow and deliberate. “I’m sure she’s just as curious as we are.”

You swallow hard. She’s not wrong. Your body hums with tension, with want. But there’s also a part of you that appreciates the restraint, the respect humming beneath the flirtation.

Rio moves closer, and your breath hitches again. Her hand grazes your arm, light but electric. “Maybe just a little taste?” she whispers, her lips dangerously close to your ear. Her voice curls around you like silk, sending shivers down your spine. “We can save the rest for another night.”

Your body responds before your mind can form a full thought. Every nerve feels on edge, aching. But before anything more can happen, Agatha steps forward and gently rests a hand on Rio’s shoulder.

“You know I’m all for fun,” Agatha says, her voice softer now, almost intimate. “But I think tonight’s…not the right moment.”

She looks at you then, and you feel seen, not just desired, but considered. It catches you off guard, that subtle care beneath the suggestion.

Agatha smiles, her touch still on Rio’s arm. “We can wait. There’s no rush.”

Rio sighs, exaggerated and theatrical, but there’s a hint of affection in her eyes when she glances at Agatha. “Fine, fine,” she mutters, then shoots you one last look, hungry, promising. “But this isn’t over.”

Agatha chuckles, linking her fingers through Rio’s. “We’ll see you again soon,” she says to you, and her voice wraps around you like a secret. “And next time, maybe we’ll all be in a better state of mind.”

As they head upstairs, Rio casts one final glance over her shoulder, mischief still dancing in her expression, before they vanish from view.

You’re left alone in the quiet, the air still buzzing from their presence. Your body thrums with leftover heat, your thoughts tangled with everything that could have happened...and everything that still might.

Chapter Text

Three days pass. You’ve replayed that night more times than you care to admit, each memory more vivid than the last - Agatha’s calm presence, Rio’s teasing heat, the promise that hung in the air.

So when your phone buzzes with another message from the agency, your heart skips before you even open it.

Same family. Same time. You available?

Your fingers hover over the screen for half a second too long. You type back.

Yes, absoloutely.

By the time Friday rolls around, you’ve done everything you can to act normal. But your stomach twists as you pull into their driveway, heart thudding in anticipation that feels a little too much like nerves, or desire.

You ring the bell.

This time, Rio opens the door. Barefoot, hair damp, wearing a tank top that clings in all the right ways and a smirk that says she remembers everything.

“Well, well,” she says, stepping aside to let you in. “Look who came back for more.”

“Here to babysit,” you reply, keeping your voice light. Mostly. You hope.

“Sure you are,” she teases, her gaze skimming you like a slow brushstroke. “Agatha’s in the kitchen. Nicky’s in a mood. Good luck with that.”

You follow her down the hallway, pulse picking up with every step.

Agatha turns as you enter, her eyes crinkling with a soft smile. She's dressed casually this time, in jeans and a black blouse, sleeves rolled up as she slices strawberries into a bowl. Still, she looks devastatingly good - effortless, poised. Dangerous in a different way.

“Y/N,” she greets, “good to see you again. Glad we didn’t scare you off the other night.”

You offer a small smile, pulse still trying to calm itself. “Not at all.”

“Good,” she says, and her eyes linger on yours just a little too long. “Because Rio’s been asking if the agency would send you again.”

“Agatha,” Rio calls from behind you, a mock-scandalized note in her voice. “You’re going to blow my whole mysterious seduction thing.”

Agatha just laughs, low and warm, and tosses a strawberry into her mouth. “Too late for mystery, love.”

And just like that, you're right back in the middle of it. The casual banter, the charged looks, the unspoken something pressing at the edges of every word.

Agatha walks over, hands you the bowl of fruit. “For Nicky. He’s in the lounge, sulking because we won’t let him eat an entire pack of gummy worms before dinner.”

Your fingers brush as you take the bowl. She doesn’t pull back right away.

“You’re a good influence,” she says, voice quieter now. “We could use more of that around here.”

Rio pokes her head in from the hall, eyes dancing. “Or maybe we just like having you around.”

You glance between them, heart pounding for reasons that have nothing to do with sugar-addicted children. Whatever this is… it’s not just babysitting anymore.

You nod, not trusting your voice to hold steady under the weight of both their gazes.

“I’ll go check on Nicky,” you manage, turning toward the lounge with the bowl of fruit in hand, trying to focus. Really trying . But their voices follow you, the low hum of laughter and quiet conversation drifting in from the kitchen, filling the house with warmth and something deeper.

Nicky is sprawled across the floor in a nest of pillows, a tablet in his lap and a stubborn crease between his brows. He doesn’t look up as you enter, until you set the bowl down beside him.

“Hey, little man. I brought you reinforcements,” you say, nudging the fruit toward him.

He glances up, lips twitching. “I wanted gummy worms.”

“I know. But strawberries are cooler. Real superheroes eat them for brain power.”

He considers this, then shrugs and plucks a slice from the bowl. “Okay. But only because you said ‘brain power.’”

You grin and sit beside him, the soft carpet warming beneath your legs. For a while, it’s easy, watching him switch between games and little clips, asking for your opinion on which character has the best powers. You let the conversation drift, letting yourself relax. But beneath the quiet playtime, the presence of Agatha and Rio lingers in your mind like a second heartbeat.

At one point, Rio appears in the doorway again, leaning casually against the frame. Her hair’s dry now, twisted into a loose braid, and she’s holding a half-finished glass of wine.

“Stealing my child’s affection again?” she teases, crossing her arms as she watches you both.

“I bribed him with strawberries,” you reply without looking up.

“Devious,” she murmurs. “Agatha was right about you.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Right about what?”

But she doesn’t answer, just winks and disappears again, leaving the question hanging in the air.

By the time Nicky is tucked in, his negotiation tactics softened by a second story and a sleepy yawn he couldn’t hide, the house is quiet again. You tidy up the last of his toys, aware of how still everything has gone. A faint clink of glassware carries from the kitchen. Then the soft hum of a record player crackling to life.

You follow the sound.

Agatha is there, a wine glass in one hand and a bottle in the other. The kitchen lights are dimmed, the record whispering something slow and jazzy through the speaker on the counter.

“Come join us?” she asks with a quiet smile. 

You hesitate in the doorway. “I probably shouldn’t. I mean, I’m technically still working.”

“He’s asleep,” Rio says from the corner of the living room, stretched out on the couch. “You earned a glass.”

You step forward slowly, like approaching a wild animal, one that smiles at you and looks unfairly good in a tank top.

Agatha pours without waiting for you to say yes. “You can sit,” she says, handing you the glass. “We promise to behave.”

You snort softly, settling into a chair across from them. “I doubt that.”

Rio grins. “Smart girl.”

The room is quiet except for the music, and the occasional sip of wine. There’s no rush, no pressure, just this charged calm, like the air before a summer storm. Agatha watches you over the rim of her glass. Rio keeps stretching, toes brushing your shin under the table in casual, teasing nudges.

You don’t move away.

Agatha leans forward slightly. “We weren’t sure if you’d come back,” she says.

“Why?” you ask, voice quieter than you meant it to be.

Rio answers this time, tone lighter but laced with meaning. “Because we were… maybe a bit much.”

Your pulse picks up.

“No,” you say honestly. “You were… something else.”

Agatha tilts her head. “And is that a good thing?”

You meet her gaze. “I haven’t decided yet.”

Rio lets out a low laugh, pleased. “We can help you decide,” she says, voice like velvet, eyes burning low and warm.

Agatha reaches for the bottle to refill your glass, her fingers brushing yours. “No pressure,” she murmurs. “Just time. We’re patient.”

For the first time, you realize this, whatever this is, isn’t going to be fast. It’s going to build. It’s going to smolder. And maybe you want to let it.

The second glass of wine loosens something in you. Not control, exactly, but hesitation. You feel softer around the edges, less guarded, more present. Rio sits sideways now on the couch, legs tucked up, one arm draped along the back. She watches you like she’s listening to music only she can hear - content, but tuned in completely. Agatha perches nearby on a cushioned ottoman, her posture relaxed, but her gaze steady.

“You really are good with him,” Agatha says after a long pause, her voice velvet-smooth, thoughtful. “It’s rare to find someone who gets him so quickly.”

There’s warmth in the compliment, but something else layered beneath it. You nod, cheeks warm. “He’s easy to like. I used to babysit a kid who used permanent markers on walls for fun. Nicky’s practically a dream.”

Rio chuckles. “For now. Wait until he discovers drum kits.”

Agatha gives her a look, then turns back to you. “We mean it, though. You’re easy to have around. Feels good having you in this space.”

Something flickers in your chest at the quiet sincerity of it. “I’m glad,” you say. “It’s nice being here. With you.”

Rio tilts her head. “With both of us?”

You glance at her, then at Agatha, your mouth curving into something honest, maybe a little shy. “Yeah. With both of you.”

There’s a moment where no one speaks. Just the record spinning. A soft breath. The clink of Agatha setting down her glass. And then she stands - slow, fluid - and crosses the room to you.

She settles down beside you on the couch, but doesn’t touch you right away. Just sits close enough that you can feel the heat of her body, the scent of her skin - vanilla and something darker, spiced. Her eyes search yours.

“Now you’re technically off the clock,” she says quietly, “I could just kiss you right now.”

Your breath catches, but you don’t move. You don’t speak.

Rio hums. “I told you she’d be curious.”

Agatha smiles, the barest hint of amusement in her eyes. “She’s more than curious.”

Then, finally, she leans in, one hand brushing your jaw, the other feather-light on your knee as she brings her mouth to yours.

It’s not rushed.

It’s deep and slow, a coaxing sort of kiss that pulls you under rather than overtakes you. Her lips are soft, her fingers firm but careful, and your whole body hums in response.

Just as your hand lifts to her hip, you feel another presence. Rio, now standing beside you, watching the kiss with something like hunger in her eyes. She leans down, her lips near your ear.

“You know,” she murmurs, “next time, we could always find another sitter…”

Her words pour like warm syrup down your spine.

“…so we can stop pretending we don’t want to ruin you.”

Your breath stutters, a soft moan escaping into Agatha’s mouth.

Agatha pulls back just enough to let you see the small, private smile tugging at her lips.

Rio kneels in front of you now, her hand curling lightly under your chin, guiding your face to hers. “What do you think?” she asks, her tone husky, coaxing. “Next time, just us. No bedtime stories. No schedule.”

You can barely nod, heart slamming against your ribs. “Next time,” you whisper.

“Good,” she murmurs. “Because this…is only the beginning.”

Chapter Text

Sunlight filters through gauzy curtains, spilling over the living room couch where you barely remember falling asleep. Your head is nestled against a throw pillow that smells faintly of sandalwood and citrus. One of Rio’s, you think.

You stir slowly, limbs heavy and draped in a blanket. The memories come back in pieces: laughter over numerous glasses of wine, knees brushing, hands exploring with careful urgency, kisses traded like secrets.

Your cheeks burn as you shift upright, blinking away sleep. The room is quiet except for the soft clatter of dishes in the kitchen.

“Morning,” comes Agatha’s voice, warm and even. You look up to see her leaning against the doorway, still in her robe, a mug in one hand and her hair swept loosely over one shoulder. “Hope you slept alright.”

You nod, throat dry. “Better than alright.”

Her smile is slow, knowing. “Good. Come get something to eat. You need something in your system after all that wine…and all that kissing.”

You flush as she turns and disappears into the kitchen. A few seconds later, Rio peeks around the corner with a wicked grin.

“Coffee’s hot, eggs are hotter,” she says. “Though not as hot as last night.”

You groan and toss a pillow in her direction, which she dodges with a laugh.

A few minutes later, you’re perched at their kitchen counter with a plate of eggs and toast, sipping coffee that’s far too good to be from a standard machine. Nicky has already run off to the backyard with a cape tied around his neck, deep in superhero mode. You catch yourself smiling at the domesticity of it all.

But then you glance at the clock.

“Shit! I have to be at the café in twenty minutes,” you say, shoving the last bite of toast in your mouth as you scramble to grab your things.

Agatha watches with a bemused smile as you wrangle your overnight bag. “Working girl,” she says lightly, stepping closer. “Don’t forget your phone. And your…dignity.”

“Too late for that,” Rio quips from the hallway, tossing your keys to you.

You’re about to head for the door when Agatha catches your hand gently. She casts a quick glance down the hall to make sure Nicky’s still outside, then leans in and presses a soft kiss to your cheek, then your mouth. Her lips are slow and sure, and she lingers just a moment longer than necessary.

“Have a good shift,” she whispers.

Rio steps in behind you, her hand warm on your lower back. She steals a kiss too - quicker, teasing - but her thumb brushes the corner of your lip when she pulls away.

“Don’t think too hard about us while you’re taking orders,” she murmurs. “Or do. Could be fun.”

You’re still dazed when you step into the sunlight, heart racing as the front door closes gently behind you.

The café is small and sweet, tucked between a record shop and a yoga studio. Usually, you slip into your barista mode without thinking. But today? Today is different.

You nearly hand a customer a croissant instead of their cinnamon roll. You forget a latte order and have to remake it. You burn your tongue on your own drink and curse under your breath.

Because every time your mind quiets for even a second, it drifts back to the way Agatha’s hand curved around your waist…or the way Rio’s lips felt on your neck…or the promise hanging between all three of you like the trailing end of a half-finished sentence.

And beneath the lingering heat of it all, the questions start to swirl:

Is this okay to be doing?

Should it be happening?

What are we even doing?

You wonder if they’re thinking the same thing. If this is just a bit of fun for them, or something more. And if it is something more, does that make it any less dangerous?

You don’t have answers. Only the memory of their hands and mouths, and the strange ache that’s settled deep in your chest.

You kick off your shoes the second you step into your apartment, the scent of roasted coffee beans still clinging to your clothes. Your feet ache, and your apron is streaked with foam and flour dust, a souvenir from the chaos of the morning rush.

It should be a relief to be home. To unwind. To let the day go. But your mind won’t stop circling them .

You toss your keys onto the counter and sink into the couch, the buzz of your phone the only sound in the quiet room. You scroll aimlessly for a bit, trying to distract yourself but it’s no use.

Their voices echo in your head. The way Agatha’s lips brushed your temple. The way Rio’s hands felt on your thighs. The tingle. The tension. The questions.

You open your messages without thinking. Their numbers are already saved - Agatha’s from the emergency contact note stuck on the fridge, and Rio’s from when she, half-laughing, stole your phone last night and added hers with a winking emoji.

And finally, you cave.

A text. Short. Hesitant.

You: Hey…I’ve been thinking. About last night. What is this? Between us?

You stare at it. Thumb hovering over Send. You nearly back out.

But then, it’s gone. Sent.

A beat.

Then two.

And just as your nerves start to spike -

Read.

Silence.

Your stomach twists. Maybe it was too much. Too soon.

But then.

Agatha: Come to dinner tomorrow. 7pm. No Nicky. Just us. We’ll talk. Or not. Either way, we’d love to see you again.

A few seconds later.

Rio: Wear that lip gloss I like. And bring your appetite. For everything.

Your pulse skips. The words burn on the screen.

You set the phone down gently in your lap, breath caught between nerves and something deeper. Something dangerous.

Something you want.

You’re standing on their front step, heart knocking against your ribs, palms a little too clammy against your thighs.Yes, you’ve been here before, but not like this . Not with your stomach in knots. Not with your lip gloss on and your brain short-circuiting from a couple of texts that felt like promises. Not with the weight of possibility hanging in the air like storm clouds.

Tonight’s not the usual.

You dressed nice, but not too nice. Soft sweater. Favorite jeans. A necklace Agatha once complimented, worn half on purpose. You told yourself to keep it low-key. No big deal. Just dinner.

But your hand hesitates anyway. Hovering just before the door. Listening to the quiet inside. Wondering if they feel this buzz, this pressure, this tension that feels like it’s been coiling tighter since the moment you hit send on that message.

Your phone buzzes in your bag.

Rio: You here?

You stare at the screen, heartbeat ticking faster.

Another buzz.

Agatha: We opened the wine. Come in before Rio finishes the whole bottle and starts getting pouty.

You smile despite yourself. That helps. Just enough.

You knock - soft, three times.

A moment later, the door swings open.

Agatha’s standing there, glass of wine in hand, wearing a soft cardigan and leggings that hug her just right. Her hair’s up in a loose bun, a few strands falling around her face, and her smile is easy but unreadable.

“Hey,” she says, voice low and warm.

Behind her, Rio appears, leaning against the wall with a glass in one hand, dressed in sweatpants and a cropped tee. Her eyes drag over you in a way that makes your skin buzz.

“Well damn,” Rio says. “You clean up cute.”

“I was aiming for casual,” you say as you step inside.

“You nailed it,” Rio replies, shutting the door behind you. “Like, dangerously casual.”

Agatha offers you a sip of her wine as she brushes past you toward the kitchen. “We’re making pasta. Nothing fancy.”

You take a sip from her glass. It’s rich and smooth and goes down too easily.

“I wasn’t expecting fancy,” you murmur. “Just…something.”

Agatha glances back at you with a smile that lingers a little too long.

“Good,” she says. “Because you’re definitely getting something.”

The kitchen smells like garlic and fresh basil, the air already thick with heat and something quieter, more electric.

Rio’s at the stove, effortlessly in control, twirling a wooden spoon through simmering sauce like she’s doing it for an audience. Agatha moves beside her, chopping tomatoes with slow, practiced ease, wine glass within reach. The music playing is soft and low, some kind of moody indie playlist that makes the whole place feel like a scene from a movie.

You hover awkwardly near the counter at first, unsure where to stand, what to do with your hands, how to exist in this moment without combusting.

Agatha glances up. “Come here,” she says gently, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

You step closer. She nudges a cutting board toward you, handing over a knife. “Chop those. Kind of lazily. We’re pretending we’re not hungry yet.”

Rio snorts from the stove. “ You’re pretending. I’ve been taste-testing like a maniac.”

“Is that what we’re calling it now?” Agatha murmurs.

You focus on the vegetables, but your hands don’t feel entirely steady. Not with the way Rio’s hips sway slightly to the music. Not with the presence of Agatha at your side, close enough that your elbows brush when she reaches across you for the olive oil.

At one point, you set the knife down and reach for your wine glass, only to find Agatha already holding it out to you. Her fingers graze yours. The contact is brief but heavy.

“So,” Rio says, tossing a handful of salt into the boiling water. “What’d you think we were gonna do tonight? Dinner and polite conversation? Or…” She pauses, looking over her shoulder at you with that signature crooked smile. “Something more fun?”

Your laugh comes out more breath than sound. “Honestly? I wasn’t sure.”

“That’s the best part,” Agatha says softly, brushing her shoulder against yours as she passes behind you. “Not knowing yet.”

The sauce bubbles, the water boils, the whole kitchen rings with the kind of tension that’s slow and deliberate and stretching tight at the edges.

Rio slides over and spoons a bit of sauce into a tiny tasting dish, offering it to you with one hand and watching your mouth as you try it.

“Need anything?” she asks, though you’re not entirely sure she’s talking about the food.

You swallow. “It’s perfect.”

Agatha’s eyes catch yours over the rim of her wine glass.

“So are you,” she says quietly.

And somehow, it feels like the room gets smaller. Closer.

You try to focus on the food. The sauce, the pasta, the rhythm of the knife against the cutting board.

But your mind keeps spiraling.

Every smile feels loaded. Every glance feels like it lingers a second too long. Every brush of fingers, every offhand comment, every little moment.

Is this flirting?

Are they just like this?

Is this something?

You sip your wine and force yourself to sound casual. “So…is this normal? For you two?”

Agatha looks up from where she’s stirring something in a pan. “What do you mean?”

“This,” you say, gesturing vaguely around the kitchen. “The wine. The music. The...way you’re both looking at me like I’m on the menu.”

Rio lets out a low whistle. “Damn. She is observant.”

Agatha just smiles, something soft and unreadable. “We didn’t invite you here to play games.”

Rio slides up beside you, her arm brushing yours. “Unless you want to play games,” she murmurs, then adds quickly, “Kidding. Sort of.”

You shift your weight, trying to act like your heart’s not racing. “I just…I want to make sure I’m not misreading things.”

There’s a beat of silence.

Then Agatha sets down the spoon and turns to face you fully. Her expression is calm, but serious. “You’re not.”

Rio leans back against the counter, folding her arms. “We like you. Not just because you’re sweet with Nicky, or because you make killer coffee, or because you say funny stuff when you’re nervous, though, honestly, that’s been a treat tonight.”

Agatha steps in a little closer, voice lower now. “But this only happens if you want it.”

“We’re not trying to trap you,” Rio adds. “This isn’t some weird power thing. We just…saw something. Felt something. And figured maybe you felt it too.”

You don’t say anything right away.

Because you do . You’ve felt it. Since before last night. Since the looks that lingered too long, the way Agatha touched your arm when she laughed, the way Rio’s eyes would flick to your mouth mid-conversation. You just didn’t know it was real.

Your fingers tighten around your wine glass. “So what happens now?”

Agatha tilts her head, considering you. “Now?” she says. “We finish cooking. We eat. We talk, if you want. Or we don’t.”

Rio grins. “And if the night takes a turn, we follow it. No pressure.”

The water starts to boil over and Agatha swears under her breath, turning quickly to adjust the heat. The moment breaks, but doesn’t vanish. It just settles into the background like spice in the sauce - warming, steady, undeniable.

You exhale slowly.

Still simmering.

But no longer guessing alone.

You’re sitting at the table now, the rich aroma making your stomach growl with hunger. You had been too nervous to eat all day and it was beginning to show. Rio sets your plate down with a little flourish, and as she leans in, her lips brush your cheek, just a whisper of contact, but enough to send a warm ripple down your spine.

You glance at her as she pulls away, heart fluttering.

“Is that part of the dinner service?” you ask, voice quiet, amused. “Or just something extra for me?”

It’s not quite a challenge. Not quite a joke. But it lands.

Rio’s smile is slow, surprised. “Depends,” she says, tone low. “You okay with extras?”

You lift your wine glass, feeling the edge of your nerves soften. “Yeah,” you murmur. “I think I am.”

Agatha slides into her seat across from you, pouring the last of the wine with practiced grace. “Careful,” she says lightly, “you keep letting her get away with that and she’ll never stop.”

You meet her eyes over the rim of your glass. “I’m starting to think that might not be the worst thing.”

She holds your gaze for a moment too long - measuring something. Then her lips curve. “Noted.”

The conversation winds on. Easy. Comfortable. Your fork clinks against your plate as you take your first bite - creamy, savory, rich in a way that feels indulgent.

“This is incredible,” you say, honestly. “I don’t think I’ve ever had anything quite like it.”

Agatha hums. “It’s nothing fancy. But we like to make people feel cared for.”

There’s something about the way she says it that makes your chest ache a little. You nod, then offer, a little braver now, “You’re doing a good job.”

Rio bumps her knee lightly against yours beneath the table. “You’re kinda sweet when you’re not flustered.”

You laugh softly, heat blooming in your cheeks. “I’m still flustered,” you admit.

“Good,” Agatha says, lifting her glass. “We are too.”

You clink your glass gently with hers, the silence that follows warm and thick and full of things not yet said - but maybe close. Maybe soon.

The plates are mostly empty, conversation drifting into a comfortable lull. The last candle flickers lower, casting long, golden shadows across the table. Agatha rises first, gathering the dishes with a kind of absent grace, and you move to help without thinking.

You’re standing at the sink beside Rio, warm water rushing over your hands as you rinse a dish. She’s next to you with a dish towel, drying each one you pass her. The air between you is quiet, but not empty, it hums with something low and steady.

“Didn’t think you’d volunteer for kitchen duty,” Rio says lightly, glancing at you out of the corner of her eye.

“Maybe I’m just trying to earn dessert.”

That earns you a smile - real and slow and a little crooked.

“Sweetheart,” she murmurs, “you already earned it the second you walked in.”

She takes it, and her fingers brush yours. It’s quick, but the contact lingers somehow, like the touch sticks to your skin longer than it should.

Rio doesn’t move away. If anything, she leans in just a little, like she's weighing something, like she might say more but doesn’t.

You glance over, catching her watching you. And then, before you can second-guess it, she leans in and kisses you.

It’s soft. Intentional. Just her lips against yours, barely a breath between you. Her hand settles on your waist, anchoring you there for a second longer before she pulls back.

Her voice is quiet when she speaks again. “Been thinking about doing that all evening.”

Your heart stumbles. There’s barely time to respond before Agatha’s voice floats in from the other room, casual and unaware. “You two making any progress in there?”

Rio lets out a small laugh under her breath but doesn’t move away. She just hands you the tea towel with a slight smile, her fingers brushing yours again.

You take it, still a little breathless, still feeling that kiss long after it’s over.

You turn to find her holding a second bottle of wine. “Let’s leave the rest of the mess for tomorrow,” she says. “Come sit.”

The three of you settle back into the living room, this time more relaxed. The overhead lights stay off, just the glow from the kitchen and a few scattered candles bathing everything in low amber. The air feels heavier now. Not tense, exactly, just full.

You tuck your legs under you on the couch, glass in hand, the buzz in your blood growing soft around the edges. Agatha sits near your hip, her arm draped casually along the back of the cushions. Rio perches on the armrest, knee nearly brushing yours. The space between all of you feels smaller than it should. Like the room has drawn its own breath and pulled you inward.

“You’re quiet,” Agatha says, not accusing, just observant, her voice dipping low in the hush of the room.

You glance over, meeting her eyes for a beat too long before looking back down at your glass. “I’m just…thinking.”

“About?” Rio prompts, gentler than before, as if she already knows where you’re going with it.

You hesitate, the flicker of candlelight dancing across the rim of your glass. “About what this is. What you want it to be.”

It lands softly, but there’s weight to it. Real weight.

Agatha doesn’t rush to fill the silence. Instead, she shifts a little closer, her fingers brushing the side of yours, close enough to feel the question still lingering on your skin.

“We like being around you,” she says simply. “It’s easy. In a way things usually aren’t.”

Rio nods from beside you, her tone slower now. “We’re figuring it out too. But we want to keep figuring it out with you. If that’s something you want.”

You let yourself breathe again.

It’s not a declaration. Not a demand. Just an invitation.

Your heart is still thudding, but your hand turns palm-up, brushing softly against Agatha’s.

Rio slides down from the armrest, her leg settling against yours, warm and steady.

You don’t move away.

You don’t want to.

Rio’s thigh presses gently against yours, solid and warm. Agatha’s fingers curl, not quite lacing with yours yet, but close. That brush of skin again. Testing. Inviting.

You turn your head just slightly, and she’s already watching you. There’s something in her eyes - curiosity, affection, something smoldering under the surface. Her hand shifts, and this time she does take yours, her thumb tracing slow arcs along your knuckles.

“I was wondering,” she murmurs, voice low and unhurried, “if you’d let me kiss you again.”

Your breath catches.

You nod, small and sure.

She leans in - not fast, not greedy - just close enough that you can smell the richness of her wine and the hint of whatever she wore on her neck. Her lips meet yours like a secret, soft and deliberate, and the world tilts just a little.

Rio shifts beside you, her hand finding your knee, resting there. Not pushing. Just there .

Agatha pulls back slightly, eyes searching yours like she’s asking everything in that silence.

You answer her with another kiss, deeper this time. Need curling at the edges.

When you finally break apart, you’re breathing a little faster. Rio’s hand slides a little higher up your thigh, fingertips light, teasing.

“God,” she says softly, almost to herself, “you’re so damn pretty when you look like that.”

You glance over at her, heart pounding. “Like what?”

“Like you want this,” she replies. “Like you’re letting yourself want it.”

She leans in before you can answer, brushing her lips just beneath your jaw, barely there. A soft, dangerous promise. Your hand finds her arm, steadying yourself. Agatha’s fingers are still twined with yours, grounding you between them.

The air is thick with heat now, with wanting and trust and all the questions still lingering. But no one’s in a hurry. No one’s trying to rush you through it.

They just stay with you. Hands on your skin. Lips brushing yours. Letting the moment open slowly, like they’re willing to wait for you to fall all the way into it.

You don’t know who moves first - maybe it’s Rio, maybe it’s you - but the shift is seamless.

A shared breath, a glance, and suddenly you’re standing, your hand still caught in Agatha’s, her thumb now sliding gently across your wrist. Rio rises beside you, her fingers brushing your lower back, gentle but electric.

She leans in close, her voice warm against your ear. “Come on.”

The hallway feels quieter than the rest of the house, dim and intimate. You follow the soft sound of footsteps and the lingering scent of something floral as Rio leads you through the open bedroom door. The light spills in behind you, gold and muted.

Agatha closes the door gently, and when you turn back, Rio’s already facing you, one hand at your hip, the other rising to brush a stray strand of hair from your face.

“You okay?” she asks, voice low.

You nod, breath shaky. “Yeah. I’m okay.”

She smiles, not cocky this time, but warm. Sure. “Good.”

Her fingers slip beneath the hem of your shirt, and she waits just a second, giving you space to pull away if you need. When you don’t, she lifts it slowly, eyes never leaving yours. Her touch is soft, careful. Like she’s unwrapping something rare.

Behind you, Agatha steps in close, her hands smoothing up your arms. She presses a kiss to your shoulder, then rests her forehead there for a moment, like she’s catching her breath right along with you.

Rio leans in, lips meeting yours in a kiss that’s all heat and slow hunger. Her hands are steady, one trailing down your spine while the other finds the waistband of your jeans, not pushing, just there. Waiting.

Agatha kisses the back of your neck, slow and deliberate, and you feel her fingertips ghosting along your ribs. Her touch contrasts with Rio’s more deliberate one, and the combination leaves your knees unsteady.

They guide you to the bed without a word - Rio’s hands at your waist, Agatha’s lips still warm against your skin. The mattress dips beneath your weight, and Rio joins you first, her body pressing gently against yours. Agatha slides in beside you, her touch cooler, but no less sure.

Rio kisses you again - longer this time - while Agatha’s hand traces down your side, drawing quiet goosebumps in her wake. You arch into the warmth of them, every nerve alive, your breath catching when Rio’s lips trail lower, just beneath your jaw.

They take their time.

Clothes are eased away slowly, like each layer tells a story. Rio’s mouth finds your chest, your stomach, learning your reactions one sigh at a time. Agatha’s hand finds yours, fingers interlaced, holding you in the moment.

The room feels full - of heat, of breath, of want - and yet nothing feels rushed.

Just mouths, and skin, and hands you never want to stop touching you.

The sheets shift beneath you, soft against your back as Rio’s fingers skim along your side - testing, learning, the kind of touch that pays attention. She kisses her way down, tongue darting out against your skin, and the heat of her mouth leaves a trail of fire in its wake.

You gasp, softly, half from surprise, half from the way her hand slips just beneath the waistband of your underwear, not quite inside, but close enough to set every nerve on alert.

Agatha is beside you, her hand brushing the curve of your hip. She nuzzles into your neck, lips parting to leave a kiss just behind your ear, then another, just a little lower. You feel her smile when your breath hitches.

“You’re so responsive,” she murmurs, a little breathless herself. “It’s beautiful.”

You turn your head, finding her mouth blindly. The kiss is messier this time, hungrier. You’re not sure who deepens it first - maybe both of you - but your hand moves to her waist, needing to hold something .

Rio shifts lower, her teeth grazing just beneath your belly button. Her hands slide under your thighs, coaxing them apart, and she looks up at you with something wicked in her eyes.

But she doesn’t go further. Not yet.

Instead, she kisses the inside of your thigh - once, twice - slow and reverent, like she’s savoring the build . Like she knows exactly what she’s doing.

You whimper, and Agatha pulls your hand to her mouth, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, then your wrist.

Everything’s warm. Close. The scent of skin and candlewax and something slightly sweet fills the air.

And you realize, they’re not in any rush. They’re not trying to get anywhere fast.

They’re just with you. Fully. Devoted to the moment.

Your pulse thuds in your throat as Rio comes back up, mouth brushing your navel before trailing up the center of your chest, until she’s close again - close enough to kiss.

You meet her halfway.

Agatha wraps an arm around your middle, spooning close, her breath hot against your shoulder.

You’re caught between them - lips on yours, hands on your skin, hearts beating against your own.

You’re half-lost in the heat of them, in the rhythm of breath and touch and the slow ache of wanting more, when Agatha’s lips find the shell of your ear.

She whispers it so softly, you almost think you imagined it.

“Let’s just see where this takes us.”

And then - only warmth.

Only the press of mouths, and bodies, and the space between questions you’re not ready to ask just yet.

Chapter Text

The morning light is pale and gold, slipping through sheer curtains and pooling in warm puddles across the bed. You’re not sure what time it is - not early, not late - just that the world feels muffled and slow, like it's wrapped in cotton.

Agatha’s breath moves soft against your collarbone, her hair tickling your skin as she exhales. Her arm is flung loosely around your waist, fingers splayed like she meant to hold you in her sleep and never let go. Rio is tucked in behind you, one leg draped possessively over yours, her palm resting low on your stomach.

You’re caught between them, bare skin against bare skin, a tangle of limbs and covers and contentment, and for once, your mind is quiet. No questioning glances. No what-does-this-mean spirals. Just this. Just them.

Rio stirs first. You feel her stretch against your back, muscles shifting lazily. Her hand slides up, brushing over your ribs before settling at your side. She doesn’t say anything, just burrows closer and lets out a soft sigh against your shoulder.

Agatha hums a sleepy sound and lifts her head to blink at you. “Morning,” she whispers, voice rough and warm.

You smile, still hazy. “Morning.”

She leans in to kiss you, slow and unhurried, like there’s nowhere else to be. Then she pulls back just enough to rest her forehead against yours. “How’re you feeling?”

You take a breath and let it out slowly. “Happy.”

Rio laughs softly behind you. “That’s a good answer.”

There’s no need to move. No reason to untangle yet. The heat of their bodies keeps you anchored, your fingers absentmindedly tracing circles on Agatha’s side. The sheets are a mess around you, kicked halfway off the bed, but the room smells like sleep and skin and the remnants of last night. For now, the world is soft. Safe.

Eventually, the quiet warmth starts to stir something in you, not discomfort, just the familiar pull of a slow morning routine. The thought of warm water, clean skin, and maybe stealing a few more kisses under the spray sounds too good to resist.

You stretch gently, careful not to wake either of them too suddenly, but Rio shifts at the movement, pressing a lazy kiss to your shoulder.

“Where you goin’?” she mumbles, voice thick with sleep and amusement.

“Shower,” you whisper, already sliding out from under the sheets. “Thought I’d beat you to it.”

Rio lifts her head just enough to watch you pad toward the bathroom, her eyes lingering. “Mmm. Rude. Tempting. Rude and tempting.”

Agatha lets out a sleepy hum behind her, eyes still closed. “You two go be indecent. I’ll put the kettle on.”

You glance back at Rio. “Coming?”

She throws off the covers with a grin. “Obviously.”

You turn on the water, testing the temperature as Rio slips in behind you, the steam already starting to rise. Her arms wrap around your waist from behind, and the first touch of her lips against your shoulder makes you exhale slow.

It’s not rushed, not even particularly heated - just close. Easy. Like this is something you’ve done a hundred times before. Like it could be something you do a hundred times more.

You turn to face her, her wet hair already curling around her cheeks, and she kisses you like she’s been waiting all morning for it. Your hands find her hips. Hers find your back. And slowly, it deepens.

Steam curls around your bodies as water pours down your skin, washing away whatever weight might’ve lingered from the night before. There’s only heat. Only breath and touch. Only her.

You lose track of time.

So when the knock comes - soft, then louder - you both jump.

“Hey,” Agatha’s voice filters in, amused but not sharp. “Sorry to ruin the very enthusiastic morning shower, but Nicky’s back.”

You blink. “Back?”

“Yeah. Alice brought him early. She’s in the kitchen. And, uh…I didn’t exactly tell her someone else was still here.”

Rio groans and presses her forehead to your shoulder. “Of course she didn’t.”

“I told her I had company,” Agatha continues, a smirk clear in her voice. “Didn’t say who. But I think she figured it out when she saw the extra coffee mug.”

Rio sighs dramatically, kissing your collarbone one last time before pulling back. “So we’re busted.”

“Not busted,” Agatha says through the door. “Just…maybe towel off before you come say hi. Alice is curious. And smug.”

You both laugh, water still running as Rio grabs a towel and passes you one with a little wink.

“Well,” she murmurs, wrapping a towel around herself, “we should probably emerge before Agatha sends Alice back here with a pot of coffee and no warning.”

You chuckle, stepping out of the shower and wrapping yourself in a towel. Your clothes, wherever they ended up in last night’s rush, are nowhere to be found.

Rio catches your glance toward the bedroom. “Yeah, those got scattered somewhere between here and the hallway.” She opens the ensuite door just enough to peek into the bedroom, then turns back with a grin. “Nope. Not risking the streak. Here.”

She crosses to a dresser just outside the bathroom, grabbing one of her oversized T-shirts and a pair of soft joggers. She tosses them your way. “Throw these on. You can scandalize Alice some other day.”

You pull them on, the cotton warm from her drawer, the scent of her clinging to the fabric. The fit is loose, comfortable. Familiar.

“Looks good on you,” she says, letting her eyes linger with a little smile.

“You just like seeing me in your clothes.”

Rio shrugs. “Well, yeah, why wouldn’t I?”

You follow her out of the bedroom together, stepping into the hallway with bare feet and damp hair. Voices drift up from the kitchen - Agatha’s low and amused, and another soft voice that must be Alice.

Rio pauses at the top of the stairs and glances at you, a flicker of something unreadable in her eyes. Then she leans in, presses a kiss to your temple, and tugs you along with her.

Downstairs, the kitchen is bright with late morning light. Agatha stands at the counter pouring coffee, her robe loosely tied, her hair in effortless, soft waves. She glances over as you enter and lifts a brow at your borrowed outfit, lips twitching.

Alice turns next. Her eyes land on you - and your clear proximity to Rio - and her mouth curves immediately.

“Well, well,” she drawls. “Good morning. ”

You feel a flush rise to your cheeks, but you manage a calm, “Morning.”

Alice sips her coffee, unbothered. “Didn’t realize this house came with perks. Agatha said she had company, not that she was running a very attractive bed and breakfast.”

Agatha snorts softly and hands you a mug. “We make good coffee,” she says. “And questionable decisions.”

Rio grins, sliding into the chair next to you and stealing a piece of toast.

Alice watches the three of you for a beat, something softer settling into her expression. “You all seem…good. Like, really good.”

Agatha glances your way, then back at Alice with a smile that’s calm and quietly proud. She reaches for her own mug, lifting it with an easy shrug.

“Yeah,” she says, her gaze flicking to you again with a playful little wink. “Still feeling it out, but…yeah. We’re good.”

Alice grins over the rim of her mug. “Well, whatever you’re figuring out, it’s clearly working.”

Then Rio casually slips her arm around the back of your chair, fingers brushing the fabric near your shoulder. It’s such an easy, familiar move, but it catches you off guard. Not because it’s bold, but because it’s public. Her doing it here, in the quiet buzz of the kitchen, with Alice and Nicky both in view…it means something.

She doesn’t seem to notice your slight intake of breath, or maybe she does and just hides it well. She just takes another bite of toast like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Across the table, Agatha catches your eye with the ghost of a smile.

Conversation drifts easily after that, mostly circling around Nicky - how he was, what games he insisted on playing, how many times he tried to sneak extra snacks.

“Little gremlin tried to convince me three separate times that Agatha lets him have ice cream before lunch,” Alice says, shaking her head with fond exasperation.

Rio snorts. “He’s been refining that hustle since he was three.”

Agatha lifts a brow, mock-serious. “And yet he still thinks I don’t know when half the chocolate chips are missing from the bag.”

There’s laughter, light and genuine, before Alice sets her mug down with a small sigh.

“Well, I should head out - errands, chaos, the usual.” She glances at you, her expression softening just a little. “Hopefully next time we meet, it won’t be while I’m crashing your morning-after toast.”

You grin. “Looking forward to it.”

Alice winks, grabbing her coat from the back of a chair. “You’ve got good taste,” she tosses over her shoulder, mostly to you - but maybe to all three of you.

With Alice gone, the quiet doesn’t linger for long.

Nicky barrels into the kitchen a few minutes later, still wearing his pajama pants and a superhero cape, waving a plastic sword and demanding justice for some imaginary crime. You’re drawn in almost instantly - how could you not be? He’s pure energy and giggles, and soon the three of you are crouched behind chairs, wielding spoons like weapons, defending the breakfast table from invisible dragons.

Rio’s the loudest of the bunch, of course. She throws herself into the bit with gusto, letting Nicky declare her the “Queen of the Fire Realm” while she hisses dramatically and tries to steal toast off your plate.

It’s easy. Stupid and chaotic and weirdly comforting.

But eventually, reality taps her on the shoulder.

Rio groans when she sees the time on the microwave. “Alright, kiddo, cape off. We’ve got a dentist appointment, remember?”

Nicky groans louder, flopping to the floor like he’s been shot. “My tooooth is fine!”

“Sure it is,” Rio says, bending down to scoop him up. Then she sighs, eyeing the cape. “Fine. You can wear the cape. But only if you promise not to tell the dentist you’re on a secret mission.”

He brightens instantly. “No promises!”

She rolls her eyes affectionately and sets him down to grab her bag, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze on her way past.

“Don’t forget to say goodbye to mommy, Nicky,” you smile, intertwining into the naturality of it all.

Nicky runs to Agatha before she lifts him up, giving him a small spin in her arms, pressing a swarm of kisses over his cheeks.

“Bye, mommy!” He giggles, before running back to Rio who is already at the door waiting.

Before she heads out, she leans in and stage-whispers with a smirk, “By the way? Not forgiven for the interrupted shower. I expect a rematch. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do whilst I’m gone!”

Then she winks, plants a quick kiss on Agatha’s cheek, and disappears with Nicky in tow, his cape fluttering behind him like a very dramatic farewell.

The house settles again.

Agatha glances at you, lips curled just slightly. “So,” she says, drawing out the word, “you and Rio looked like you were having a very thorough rinse earlier.”

You’re still half-smiling when you turn to find Agatha watching you. Not just watching, taking you in , her head tilted slightly, one corner of her mouth tugged up in something far more intriguing than amusement.

She takes a step closer, slow and deliberate.

“Well,” she says, voice warm and a touch lower now, “now it’s my turn to have you all to myself.”

The words settle in your chest like a held breath.

You’re not sure who moves first, you or her, but suddenly the space between you disappears. Her hand finds your waist, fingers curling gently into the borrowed fabric of Rio’s joggers. The other skims up to your cheek, her thumb brushing just beneath your eye as if she’s memorizing you by feel.

“You smell like her,” Agatha murmurs, almost to herself. “But I want to remind you who had you first.”

Your pulse stutters.

Then she kisses you, soft to begin with, just a press, a tease. But when your hand lifts to her hip, something shifts. Her mouth parts, her grip tightens, and the kiss deepens, slow and consuming. She tastes like coffee and quiet hunger.

Her fingers trail beneath the hem of your borrowed shirt, tracing along the line of your lower back.

“I was going to offer you another coffee,” she whispers against your lips, “but I think I’ve got something else in mind.”

You don’t respond with words, just a nod, a purr against her mouth, the way your hand curls into the back of her robe. She smiles into the kiss like she already knows, like she knew the second Rio left you standing there in her clothes, flushed and still warm from the shower.

Agatha tugs gently at your waist, guiding you backwards out of the kitchen, through the familiar curve of the hallway, and back into the bedroom. It’s quieter here, thick with the lingering scent of skin and steam and something more - last night , still breathing in the air between the sheets.

She eases you down onto the bed, her knees tucked on either side of your hips as she leans forward, bracing herself with one hand while the other finds its way beneath the oversized shirt. Her fingers are slow and careful, brushing over your stomach, your ribs, mapping you like she has time - because she does.

“I’ve been thinking about this since the first time you looked at me like that,” she murmurs, her voice a velvet hush against your neck. “Like you didn’t know what you wanted yet…but it might be me.”

Your hands trail up her thighs, anchoring to the dip of her waist beneath her robe. “Still might be,” you whisper back, teasing, but breathless.

Agatha grins, wicked and warm all at once.

“Let’s find out.”

She slides the robe off one shoulder, then the other, baring herself inch by inch with a patience that drives you wild. Her touch follows suit - fingers tracing your jaw, your collarbone, slipping beneath fabric in a slow tease that leaves you arching into her, your breath catching in soft, surprised sighs.

And when she finally undresses you, it’s not frantic, it’s reverent. Like she’s unwrapping something precious. Like she wants to savor every second.

Your bodies move together in a rhythm built on tension and trust, the kind of connection that doesn’t rush the answer because the question is half the thrill. Her mouth finds yours again, and again, trailing heat down your chest, your stomach - her name escapes you in a quiet moan, your hands buried in her hair, hips rising to meet every slow, deliberate press of her mouth.

She takes her time. She makes time.

And when you come undone beneath her, she holds you through it, kisses your breathless mouth, strokes lazy patterns along your side, murmuring soft, satisfied praise against your skin.

Later, when she curls up beside you, fingers idly brushing your bare hip, she says it so low you almost miss it:

“We’re still figuring it out…but I’m really glad you’re here.”

Chapter Text

You don’t know how long you lie there, tangled up with Agatha, the two of you tucked together beneath the crumpled sheets. Not asleep, just savoring the quiet, the warm drift of fingertips and lazy conversation.

Agatha shifts a little, her fingers tracing slow patterns across your stomach. "So," she murmurs, voice low and content, "you were going to tell me about that ridiculous book you’re reading."

You grin, tilting your head to look at her. "The one with the chaotic witches and bad puns?"

"That's the one," she says, smiling against your skin.

You laugh softly. "It’s so bad, Aggie. I almost threw it across the room twice. But it’s weirdly charming. You’d probably love it."

She hums thoughtfully. "You’ll have to lend it to me."

"Gladly," you say, nudging her playfully with your knee. "You can suffer through the magical nonsense too."

Agatha chuckles, the sound warm against you. She shifts even closer, draping an arm across your waist, clearly not in any hurry to move.

Neither of you notices how much time has slipped past until the front door creaks open.

“Home!” Rio’s voice calls out, bright and familiar, followed closely by the shuffle of sneakers and the click of the door closing.

You lift your head, blinking at Agatha in surprise.

Agatha just smiles lazily and presses a quick kiss to your temple. “Guess the world’s still turning,” she murmurs.

“Oi!” Rio’s voice, unmistakable, full of mock outrage. “Did you two forget we exist down here?”

You can almost hear the grin in her voice.

Agatha lifts her head just enough to glance toward the door, then looks back at you with a wicked little smile. “I suppose hiding’s out of the question.”

You shift under her, rolling lazily to one side and tugging the crumpled sheet with you. “Come on, before she storms up here and drags us out of bed.”

Agatha laughs quietly, soft and almost smug, and presses one last kiss to your shoulder before finally sliding off the bed. She doesn't bother reaching for her robe, just grabs the nearest oversized hoodie from a chair and tosses it over her head. It swallows her whole, the hem barely brushing her thighs, and somehow makes her look even more effortlessly devastating.

You pull on Rio’s joggers and shirt again, a little wrinkled now, but still somehow warm from where Agatha had pressed against you.

Together, you head for the stairs, bare feet padding over the cool floorboards.

Downstairs, Rio is sprawled dramatically across the couch, one arm thrown over her eyes like a tragic hero. Nicky is perched on the coffee table in front of her, brandishing his two dentist stickers like they’re priceless medals.

The second he sees you, Nicky lights up. "Look! I didn't even cry!"

You grin, heart squeezing a little at how proud he looks. “You’re the bravest hero I’ve ever seen.”

Rio peeks at you from beneath her arm, grinning. “Braver than me?”

“Much braver,” you tease, sticking your tongue out at her.

Agatha snorts and crosses the room, ruffling Nicky’s hair affectionately. “He’s officially a superhero now. Cape and all.”

“Dentist said he’s got good teeth too,” Rio adds, sitting up and pulling Nicky into her side. “Which is suspicious, considering the number of cookies this one gets away with.”

Nicky giggles and wriggles free, launching himself toward Agatha, who catches him easily and spins him in a lazy circle before setting him back down.

The house feels full again, buzzing with movement and laughter, but the softness between you all, the tenderness still lingering from this morning. If anything, it’s woven itself deeper, an invisible thread pulling you closer.

Rio catches your eye over Nicky’s head, her grin turning just a little softer, just a little more yours.

And you realize, all over again, that you’re right where you’re supposed to be.

Lunch comes and goes in a lazy, golden stretch of time.

The four of you move easily around each other, the way people do when they’ve spent enough days in each other's pockets. Agatha picks at leftovers in the fridge and whips together sandwiches, while Rio battles Nicky over how many mozzarella sticks he’s allowed. You linger near the kitchen counter, sipping a cold drink and laughing at the playful bickering, feeling more at home than you have anywhere in a long time.

The afternoon drifts by. There’s no rush, no pressure, just a soft hum of normalcy that wraps around you like a favorite sweater.

You help Nicky build a new Lego set on the living room floor while Agatha reads beside you, stretched out with a book she plucked from your bag - the very one you’d recommended earlier. Every now and then, she nudges you with her foot, wiggling the book pointedly when you glance over. You just grin and shake your head, knowing exactly what she’s hinting at.

Later, when the sun has started to dip and the light in the house turns syrupy and warm, Nicky perks up suddenly, wide-eyed.

“Will you stay for movie night?" he asks, hopeful and bright, practically bouncing in place.

The question squeezes something tender in your chest. You open your mouth to say yes - to say of course - but then you remember. Your heart sinks a little.

“I wish I could, buddy," you say gently, brushing a hand through his hair. "But I’ve got another babysitting job tonight. I have to head out soon."

His face falls, small and disappointed but trying to be brave about it. Rio swoops in, ruffling his hair. 

“We'll save the best movies for when you can stay," she promises, shooting you a warm look over his head.

You smile, touched in that soft, aching way you always are around them.

Grabbing your bag, you sling it over your shoulder, taking one last look at this house that somehow feels more like home with every visit.

Rio steps closer, her hand warm and easy on your arm, and presses a kiss to your cheek.

“Next time, yeah?" she murmurs, before taking Nicky’s hand and steering him toward the living room. "Go pick out something with dinosaurs, kiddo. We’ll watch it together."

Their voices fade as they disappear down the hall, leaving you alone in the entryway with Agatha.

You turn back to grab your jacket and find her already there, impossibly close.

Her hands are braced on either side of you, caging you gently but firmly against the wall. Her body doesn’t touch yours, not quite, but the heat rolls off her in waves, teasing, threatening.

You swallow, heart kicking up hard against your ribs.

Agatha smiles - a slow, wolfish thing - and leans in, close enough that her breath brushes your lips. Her eyes flick down to your mouth and back up again, deliberate.

"You’re not getting away that easy," she murmurs, voice low and rough-edged with promise.

Before you can even think of something clever to say, she kisses you.

It’s not soft, not tentative - it's deep and claiming, stealing the air from your lungs and making your knees buckle just a little. Her fingers brush the side of your throat, anchoring you there like she’s afraid you might slip away.

When she finally pulls back, you’re dizzy, barely holding yourself upright.

Agatha chuckles under her breath and leans in one more time, her lips grazing the shell of your ear.

“I'll let you know how I find the book," she murmurs, voice dark with amusement and something heavier, something that promises more.

Her teeth scrape lightly across your earlobe before she steps back, cool and composed again, like she hasn’t just wrecked you with a few casual touches.

You nod, a little dazed, lips still tingling from the press of hers.

Agatha smiles, slow and wicked, then finally steps back, giving you room to slip outside and into the soft spill of afternoon light.

You catch one last glimpse of her over your shoulder, leaning against the doorframe, watching you go like she’s already planning exactly what she’s going to do next time you’re alone.

Your phone buzzes against the kitchen counter where you left it, and when you glance over, you spot the group chat name flashing: The Babysitter’s Fanclub - complete with a ridiculous selfie Rio must’ve taken of herself and Agatha, both throwing peace signs and blowing kisses.

You grin and swipe it open while stirring a pot of soup for dinner.

Rio: Hope you're not giving in to chocolate demands like you do at ours. 

Agatha : Or making the parents fall for you.

You huff a soft laugh, a flush creeping up your neck. These two are going to be the death of you.

Another buzz. 

Rio: What time you done? There's a spot waiting for you between us in bed. 

You bite your lip, trying not to grin like a fool while you sneak a glance at your little charge, still totally absorbed in their cartoon marathon.

You quickly tap out a reply:
"Should be finished by 8. Keep the spot warm for me."

Almost instantly:

Agatha: Always.

Your chest feels warm, a little breathless. You tuck the phone away again, heart doing that stupid fluttery thing it only seems to do for them.

But then another buzz.

New text.

Different sender.

Liv: Hey! I'm in town!! Breakfast tomorrow?? Miss you!

You blink down at it, caught off-guard.

Liv: Breakfast. Tomorrow.

Someone from outside the little world you’ve been floating in - the slow mornings at Agatha and Rio’s, the lazy afternoons tangled up in blankets and soft laughter.

The reminder hits harder than you expect.

You hesitate, fingers hovering over the screen, before pulling the group chat back up. Your thumbs feel clumsy as you type.

“Change of plan, my friend’s in town. I won’t be able to stay tonight."

You stare at it for a second before hitting send, the words feeling heavier once they're out in the open.

The three dots appear almost immediately, and your stomach twists.

And twists harder when they vanish without a reply.

You chew your lip, glancing toward the living room where the cartoons are still blaring, the normalcy of your babysitting job suddenly feeling...off, somehow. Smaller.

You hadn’t even realized how tightly you'd wrapped yourself up in them. How much you didn’t want to leave.

After a minute - or maybe it’s longer, it feels like forever - your phone buzzes again.

It’s Rio.

Rio : Change of plan?? Outrageous. Guess we’ll just have fun us two then.

Another beat, and a second message comes through, a little softer under the tease. 

Rio: Have a good time though, sweetheart. Just know...it’s not the same without you.

And just beneath it, another from Agatha, a little slower to come through. 

Agatha: Enjoy yourself. We'll keep your spot warm for next time.

You stare at the screen for a long moment, heart tugging painfully sweet in your chest.

Even from here, they feel close. Warm. Waiting. It makes your chest ache in that complicated, messy way you’re still getting used to.

You almost text back right away - miss you already , wish I was coming over - but you force yourself to wait. You don’t even know why. Maybe because some part of you is scared of what it means to miss them this much.

Chapter Text

The diner isn’t anything special. Red vinyl booths, sticky menus, the thrum of fluorescent lights overhead. Probably wouldn’t have looked twice at it if Agatha hadn’t texted you the night before, casually suggesting it.

"Cute little spot off Sunset," she’d said.
"Good pancakes, terrible coffee. You’ll love it."

You hadn’t even thought twice about it then, just smiled at your phone, heart warm, and sent the address to Liv.

But now, sitting alone at a corner booth, nervously tracing the rim of your water glass, it feels a little different. Like you dragged them here with you, even if you didn’t mean to.

Liv arrives a few minutes late, all bright eyes and wind-tousled hair, pulling you into a hug so tight you almost forget the knot in your chest.

"Look at you!" they say, sliding into the booth. "All grown up and mysterious."

You laugh, trying to shake off the nerves. It’s easy, for a while. The two of you fall back into step like no time’s passed at all, ordering the pancakes and the bad coffee, trading half-finished stories about work, about life, about everything and nothing.

But it doesn’t last.

"So," Liv says eventually, propping their chin on their hand. "You seeing anyone?"

You falter, your fork hovering over your plate. The silence stretches half a second too long.

They grin, sharp and triumphant. "Knew it."

You groan, setting your fork down. “It’s...complicated."

"Ooh. Complicated. Spicy. Tell me everything."

You pick at the edge of your napkin, trying to find the right words. How do you explain something that doesn’t have a name yet? Something that feels real but fragile, like a soap bubble in your hands?

"They’re a couple," you say finally. "I babysit for them. And...we’ve gotten close. Really close."

Their eyebrows shoot up. "Like... close close?"

You shrug helplessly. “Yeah. Close close."

There’s a beat of silence.

Then Liv leans back in the booth, exhaling slow. "You’re sleeping with both of them?"

You flinch at the bluntness. “It’s not just-" you start, but stop yourself.

What else can you call it?

You think about Rio’s hands tangled with yours, about Agatha’s mouth on your throat, about the way their house feels like home in a way nothing else has in years.

You think about the way you missed them last night, even when you tried not to.

"It’s more than that," you say quietly.

Liv studies you for a long moment, their expression softening.

"I’m not judging," they say. "Really. I just...you sure they’re not using you?"

You blink.

The words hit harder than you expect. A little off-center punch right to the ribs.

"I mean," they continue carefully, "you’re hot, you're charming, you’re great with their kid," they tick the points off on their fingers. “Of course they’d be into you. But, they’re already a package deal. You’re...sort of…extra."

You open your mouth, ready to argue but the words get stuck. Deep down, you know that fear has been whispering in the back of your mind for a while now.

Not that Agatha and Rio would mean to hurt you. But maybe, it’s inevitable anyway.

Liv must see something on your face, because their own softens even more.

"Just...be careful, okay?" they say, reaching across the table to squeeze your hand. "I don’t want to see you get hurt."

You squeeze back, smiling as best you can, but the food tastes like cardboard after that. And even when you leave the diner, stepping out into the bright Los Angeles morning, you can’t shake the weight pressing against your ribs.

You almost pull out your phone to text them, to tell them you miss them, to ask if they’re thinking about you too.

But your thumb hovers over Agatha’s name...and then falls away.

You shove your hands deep into your pockets and start walking, hoping the morning sun can burn off the chill still clinging to your skin.

You don’t say much after breakfast.

Liv hugs you tight before they go, promises to text later, but the warning they left behind clings like burrs to your skin.

You walk away from the diner feeling heavier than you should, each step dragging a little more.

The rest of the day drifts by in a strange haze. You wander the streets downtown, popping into little shops you barely register, sipping coffee that tastes like nothing, scrolling aimlessly through your phone without ever really seeing the screen. The city moves around you, vibrant and alive, but you’re somewhere far away from it all, stuck turning over the same words again and again in your mind.

Maybe they’re right. Maybe you’re just something temporary. A distraction. Something easy to toss aside when the novelty wears off.

The thought curls tight in your chest like smoke.

When Rio’s message pops up around four, it feels like both a balm and a fresh wound.

Rio: Having fun with your friend? Wanna come over later?

You stare at it for a long second, heart clenched painfully tight in your ribs. You almost say no - you almost let that creeping fear win. But you miss them. God, you miss them. You miss the way they see you, the way they fold you into their lives without hesitation, the way it feels to just be with them, uncomplicated and warm and whole.

You don’t want to lose that.

Not without a fight.

You: Would love to. See you soon.

You try to shove the nerves down as you drive over - music blaring too loud, windows cracked to let the cool evening air whip through the car. It almost works. Almost.

But the second you step through the front door, you know you’re not fooling anyone.

The house smells like something sweet baking - maybe cookies, maybe cinnamon - and there’s a lazy kind of chaos humming through it. You hear Nicky’s laughter from the living room, the crinkle of a snack bag being opened, the low murmur of a movie playing on the TV.

Agatha is curled up on the couch, a book forgotten in her lap. Her gaze lifts the second the door clicks shut behind you, pinning you softly in place.

Rio’s sprawled out on the floor, cross-legged among a mess of Legos and coloring books, Nicky perched beside her, chattering away about dinosaurs and rocket ships. She glances up too and you catch the quick flicker of concern that crosses her face before she schools it into an easy smile.

"Hey, sweetheart," Rio says lightly, patting the spot next to her. "C’mere."

You shrug your jacket off slowly, draping it over the hook by the door, and cross the room on stiff legs. You sink down beside her, trying to smile, trying to pretend everything’s normal but your hands twist in your lap, and your shoulders stay tight, and you can feel the worry radiating off both of them in waves.

Rio nudges your knee with hers, playful but careful.

"You okay?"

You nod. Then shake your head. Then laugh weakly, pressing the heels of your hands into your eyes. It all comes tumbling out before you can stop it.

The breakfast.

The conversation.

The warning about being used.

The way it stuck in your gut all day, growing heavier with every hour that passed.

By the time you’re finished, you feel wrung out - hollow and raw and small.

There’s a long silence, broken only by the faint sound of the movie playing in the background.

Agatha shifts first, sliding off the couch to sit cross-legged on the floor in front of you. She reaches out, tugging your hands gently away from your face and lacing her fingers through yours.

Her thumb brushes across your knuckles in slow, grounding circles.

"We're not using you," she says, voice low and unwavering. "We would never ."

Rio leans into your side, wrapping an arm around your waist and squeezing lightly like she’s trying to hold you together.

"We’re still figuring this out," she says, her voice softer now, earnest. "It’s new for us too. But if it keeps moving forward - if it becomes something more serious - it’s not gonna be you orbiting around us. You’d be in it. With us. Equal."

Agatha’s eyes don’t leave yours, fierce and open.

"You’re not extra," she says simply. "You’re... you. That matters."

Your throat feels tight. Your chest aches in a way that’s half pain, half overwhelming relief.

You believe them. Or maybe you just want to believe them so badly it hurts.

And maybe, for tonight, that’s enough.

You don’t realize you’re crying until Rio brushes a thumb under your eye, catching the tear before it falls.

"Hey," she says, grinning, trying to lighten the moment. "C’mon. We didn’t break out the emergency cookies for nothing."

You let out a shaky laugh, scrubbing your hands over your face.

Agatha bumps her shoulder against yours.

"So," she says, mischievous again, that wicked spark rekindling in her eyes. "New plan."

You blink at her, still a little dazed.

"Invite your friend over tomorrow," she says. "Board games. Pizza. Whatever. Let them see for themselves."

Rio perks up immediately, sitting back on her heels.

"Charm offensive," she says brightly. "We’re very good at those."

You laugh - really laugh this time, the tension finally cracking apart inside you.

"You’re insane," you say fondly, pulling your phone out of your pocket.

Agatha leans in over your shoulder, her hair brushing your cheek.

Rio practically drapes herself across your back, reading along as you type.

“Hey, wanna come over tomorrow? Agatha and Rio wanna meet you. They’re cool. Also devastatingly attractive and annoyingly funny. You’ll like them.”

You hover over the send button.

Agatha taps the screen lightly with one finger.

"Send it," she says, smirking. "Before we lose the advantage."

You hit send with a theatrical sigh, dropping your phone onto the couch cushion beside you.

Rio cheers softly and throws her arms around your neck, dragging you back into her lap like you weigh nothing.

"See? Crisis averted. Genius plan. We're gonna win your friend over so hard, they’ll be begging for sleepovers."

Agatha chuckles, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

"Or at least they’ll stop filling your head with garbage," she says, eyes soft.

You let yourself sink into them, into the messy pile of limbs and warmth and ridiculousness. The house buzzes quietly around you, Nicky’s movie still playing, the faint clatter of the oven timer going off, the lazy golden light of the setting sun sliding across the floor.

For the first time all day, you don’t feel hollow anymore.

You feel...safe.

Held.

Home. 

Later, when Nicky’s finally down for the night - after three bedtime stories, two drinks of water, and one last insistence that he absolutely needed to show you his latest Lego masterpiece - you all collapse on the couch like marionettes with their strings cut.

The house is blissfully quiet now, except for the soft murmur of the TV playing a documentary about ancient shipwrecks.

You’re squished comfortably between Agatha and Rio, a knitted blanket thrown over all three of you, mugs of hot chocolate cradled carefully in your hands.

A pile of half-eaten snacks balances precariously on the coffee table - popcorn, cookies, some gummy bears Rio keeps sneakily tossing at your head when Agatha isn’t looking.

You feel good.

Tethered.

Your phone buzzes quietly on the cushion beside you.

You fish it out lazily, thumb sliding across the screen.

Liv: Sounds fun. See you guys tomorrow. Bring your A-game, I don't lose at board games.

You stare at the message for a second longer than you probably should.

It’s fine. It’s friendly.

But there’s something off about it. Something you can’t quite name. A lack of the usual exclamation points, maybe. Or the warmth you’re used to. The pit in your stomach stirs, unwelcome. You tuck your phone away quickly like you can hide the creeping anxiety along with it.

Without thinking, you shift closer into Agatha’s side, pressing your face into her shoulder.

She doesn’t miss a beat.

Her free arm comes up immediately, tucking you closer against her.

She kisses the top of your head, slow and deliberate, her lips lingering.

"You’re thinking too hard again," she murmurs against your hair.

Rio leans forward to catch your gaze over the rim of her mug, smiling crookedly.

"You okay, baby?"

You nod. Then shake your head. Then shrug helplessly.

"It’s stupid," you mumble. "Liv just texted back. She’s coming tomorrow, but...I don’t know. She didn’t sound like herself. It’s probably nothing, but-"

Agatha cups your jaw gently, tilting your face up so you have to meet her eyes.

"It’s not nothing if it’s making you feel like this," she says.

Her voice is warm. Steady.

A tether against the flood rising in your chest.

"We’re not playing games with you," she says, thumbing softly over your cheekbone. "This isn’t a trick. It’s not some experiment, or whatever else you’re scared it might be."

Rio nudges your foot under the blanket with hers.

"The only game we’re playing," she says, grinning wide, "is absolutely destroying you at Scrabble tomorrow."

You snort before you can stop yourself.

"Wow," you say, voice wobbly with half-laughter. "You’re really talking a big game for someone who tried to play 'quazle' like it was a real word last time we played Scrabble."

Rio gasps, clutching her chest like you've mortally wounded her. “Quazle is absolutely a word in some language," she protests. "I stand by it."

"Baby," Agatha says, gently exasperated from across the room, "you tried to argue it was Australian slang for ‘a soft breeze. ’ "

Rio shrugs, shameless. "It sounded real. It had a Z. That’s power."

You laugh again - really laugh - and the ache in your chest finally starts to loosen.

Rio’s head whips around from where she's been poking through the snack pile.

"Oh, you laughing at me, huh?" she says, mock-offended, eyes narrowing playfully.

Before you can react, she lunges at you, tackling you sideways into the couch cushions.

You yelp, laughing helplessly as she tries to pin you down, her fingers digging in mercilessly at your sides. Agatha laughs too, a low, warm sound from where she’s curled in the corner of the couch, legs tucked underneath her.

"Get her, darling," Agatha calls out, amusement thick in her voice.

"Traitor," you gasp at her, still squirming under Rio’s relentless tickling, but Agatha just laughs harder.

The three of you dissolve into a ridiculous, tangled mess, all laughter and grabbing hands and useless protests.

At some point, you manage to wriggle yourself on top of Rio, pinning her hips with your knees, breathless and triumphant.

"Ha! Got you," you declare proudly, chest heaving.

Rio grins up at you, smug and unbothered. "Oh no," she says, voice dripping with fake fear. "Whatever will I do."

Something bold sparks in your chest - maybe from the victory, maybe from the heat in her gaze - and before you can second guess it, you lean down and kiss her.

Quick and sweet and yours .

Rio kisses you back immediately, easy and eager but the second you pull back, it hits you.

You kissed her.

You kissed her first.

Your face flames so fast you feel dizzy, a soft little gasp escaping before you can swallow it down.

Agatha sees it happen - the way you freeze, the way wide-eyed panic flashes across your face - and her smile curls slow and wicked.

"Aww," she coos, leaning forward, her hand stroking warmly down your back. “Is my little one getting shy now? After being so brave?"

You try to bury your face against Rio’s shoulder, but Rio just laughs and tugs you closer, wrapping her arms loosely around your waist.

"Don't go getting shy on us now," she murmurs, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.

You let out a breathless little laugh, trying to play it off, but it’s no use. You can feel the colour rising in your cheeks.

Agatha just smiles - hungry and sweet at once - and crooks a finger at Rio. “Come here, darling.”

Rio turns her head, grinning as Agatha leans in and kisses her, slow and sure, all practiced affection and heat. And then Agatha shifts, moving toward you.

She doesn’t kiss you right away. Just leans in, her lips brushing yours, barely there.

"Good thing I really, really love sharing with you."

You let out the tiniest whimper, your whole body melting into their hands, their mouths.

Agatha smiles against your mouth lazily. 

"You know," Rio says, voice dropping low as she nuzzles just beneath your jaw, "the night’s still young..."

"And we," Agatha purrs, fingers teasing at the hem of your shirt, "have a lot of ways we could wear you out."

The only thing you can focus on is the warmth of their hands, their mouths, the heavy, aching promise of everything still to come.

“Should we take this to bed?” Agatha murmurs against your lips, already sitting up. Her hoodie rides up her thighs when she stands, revealing smooth legs and the soft sway of her hips as she leads the way upstairs.

You follow, heart pounding, hand clasped in Rio’s. There’s something reverent in the quiet steps you take down the hallway

The bedroom is dim, lit only by the spill of hallway light and the soft glimmer of the city beyond the window.

Agatha pulls back the duvet while Rio comes up behind you, hands curling around your waist.

“Still nervous?” Rio whispers, kissing the nape of your neck.

“Always, with you two,” you admit, barely breathing the words.

Agatha turns, her voice lower now. “You were so brave making the first move tonight.”

She steps close again, hands gentle as they slide beneath the hem of your shirt, lifting it slowly over your head. She kisses each inch of exposed skin like she’s thanking you for it.

Rio presses in from behind, her hands warm on your hips. Her lips move along the curve of your jaw, trailing heat in their wake.

You’re dizzy in the best way, caught between them, wrapped in touch and warmth and a steady pulse of affection.

Agatha’s voice is barely audible. “Do you trust us?”

You nod. “Yes.”

And you mean it.

She smiles, guiding you gently to the bed. The mattress feels soft beneath you as they continue to undress you slowly, reverently - like it’s part ritual, part worship.

And when Agatha opens the drawer beside the bed, fingers brushing over a few velvet-covered toys and harnesses, she looks to you again.

“Still okay?”

Your pulse thrums, but you nod again. “Yes. Please.”

Agatha stops, her voice firm but kind. “I need you to use your words, little one.”

“Y-yes, still okay,” you manage, your voice unsteady.

They don’t rush. Every touch is slow, teasing, designed to draw out the anticipation, not just the pleasure. Agatha kneels between your legs while Rio holds you from behind, her mouth at your ear, whispering praise and soft encouragement.

And you feel it - not just arousal but this sense of being cherished. Of being chosen.

They’re not just using you.

They’re loving you. In every slow, deliberate way they know how.

And as Agatha kneels back for a moment, she reaches for the harness. You watch her fit the straps around her hips with practiced ease, her eyes flicking up to meet yours now and then - not asking, just making sure you’re still with her. Still saying yes.

When she finishes, she crawls back up the bed, her fingers gentle as they caress your face, thumb sweeping across your cheek.

“You sure you want this, my love?” she asks, voice low and syrupy sweet.

“Please,” you breathe, barely above a whisper. “I beg.”

Agatha’s eyes darken at your words, the corners of her mouth curling into something equal parts tender and hungry. “Good,” she murmurs, brushing her thumb along your bottom lip. “Because I’ve been thinking about this all night.”

You hear the soft creak of the harness as she adjusts it, the toy swaying slightly between her thighs - thick, smooth, and glistening faintly where she’s already slicked it with lube. She strokes along the length once, slow and purposeful, while Rio presses a kiss to your shoulder from behind, her hands now framing your waist.

“You’ve been so good for us,” Agatha says, crawling up over your thighs, the strap brushing along your skin, teasing. “So patient. I think our little one deserves a reward.”

“Don’t you?” Rio’s voice is a low purr at your ear.

You nod, heart pounding. “Please, I want this.”

Agatha shifts closer and presses the tip of the toy against you, teasing. Not pushing in yet, just circling, spreading you where it counts. Then her fingers return, parting you, easing the small vibrator between your folds, switching it on low. Your hips jolt at the buzz, a gasp slipping from your lips as the tremor settles against your clit.

“Sweet thing,” Agatha whispers. “You’re already shaking.”

She presses in slow, inch by aching inch, her other hand gripping your hip to keep you steady.

Rio wraps her arm around your torso, mouth at your ear. “Let her in, baby,” she breathes. “Let Mommy fuck you real good.”

You moan - high, broken, involuntary. Agatha smiles as she bottoms out, filling you completely, then stills. She leans forward to kiss you, slow and deep, her hips pressing against yours, keeping you full.

“Now let’s make you feel everything,” she says, voice thick.

Agatha sets a rhythm that’s slow and deliberate, each roll of her hips measured, coaxing your body to open for her. A vibrator now hums between you, sending shivers up your spine with every grind of her pelvis against yours. Her hand pins your hips with gentle strength, keeping you exactly where she wants you.

You clutch at Rio’s arms behind you, trembling, breath catching with each thrust. She tightens her hold, lips ghosting your ear. “You’re taking her so well,” she murmurs. “You’re so beautiful when you’re being fucked like this.”

Agatha leans in close, mouth at your throat, her voice a low purr. “That’s it, sweetheart. You don’t have to do anything. Just feel.”

It’s overwhelming, in the best way. The pressure, the vibration, their voices, it melts you down to nerves and heat. You whimper, fingers tugging at the sheets, and Rio kisses the side of your face with a soft chuckle.

“Think you can take more, little one?” Agatha asks, slowing just enough to let your hips grind up toward her. “Or do I need to hold you down?”

“More,” you pant. “Please.”

Agatha pulls out nearly all the way before sliding back in harder this time - deeper, grinding with purpose. You cry out, your back arching into her.

“Good girl,” she praises, thumb brushing your cheek, eyes locked to yours. “You’re making Mommy so proud.”

From behind, Rio’s hand drifts down your front, fingers moving toward the vibrator. She tweaks the setting slightly, just enough to kick it up a notch, and your whole body tenses.

“That’s it,” she whispers. “Give in. Let us take care of you.”

Your body jolts as the aftershocks ripple through you, every nerve still alight. Agatha slows only slightly, still rolling her hips in smooth, steady thrusts, drawing your climax out until it feels almost unbearable.

Agatha leans over you, planting a trail of kisses down your jaw, her voice thick with praise. “You’re perfect like this. So open. So full. I could watch you fall apart forever.”

Her words make you clench around the toy, and she groans softly, giving one more slow thrust before she stills inside you.

“Let’s give our girl a little break,” she murmurs, easing out with care and slipping the harness off her hips. “Don’t want to overstimulate you… too much .”

But there’s a gleam in her eye when she says it, one that tells you she knows exactly how far she could push you.

Rio sits back on her heels before removing her shirt, revealing the warm slope of her stomach and the curve of her bare thighs. She licks her lips, eyes flicking to Agatha. “Your turn?”

Agatha hums, brushing sweat-damp curls from her brow. “I thought you’d never ask.”

She lifts the toy from where it still hums faintly, lowering the setting before passing it to you.

“You wanna hold this for me, baby?” she asks, eyes gleaming.

You nod, still trembling, still high on the haze of their touch. Agatha shifts to lie back across the bed, legs spread with slow confidence, gaze steady on yours.

"Come here," she says, voice rough. “I want to see those pretty eyes while you fuck me.” You crawl forward on trembling limbs, still feeling the echo of her deep inside you. But the way Agatha looks at you - darkened eyes lazy with hunger, legs already parting wider - grounds you in a different kind of heat.

You kneel between her thighs, vibrator in hand, and feel Rio settle behind you, her chest warm against your back, her breath ghosting against your ear.

"Nice and slow, my love," she murmurs. "She's sensitive. But so greedy, too."

You nod, pressing the vibrator gently to Agatha’s inner thigh, just to tease. Her hips twitch, the muscle jumping under the toy’s hum.

“Oh, she’s already squirming,” Rio coos, reaching around to guide your hand higher - until the head of the vibrator presses snug to Agatha’s clit.

Agatha lets out a low groan, her thighs twitching again. “Fuck…”

You slowly slide your fingers into her, already slick with the promise of what’s to come. A subtle curve of your hand has Agatha gasping, her breath catching in surprise. 

"That's it," you murmur, finding a rhythm, watching the tension build in her body, each breath shorter, her stomach flexing, her hands gripping the sheets.

Rio doesn’t just watch - she wraps her arms around your middle, hands cupping your chest lazily, possessively. She rocks against you while you work the toy in slow, precise circles, her lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“Look at her,” she whispers. “Look how beautiful she gets when she falls apart.”

Agatha’s back arches as she lets out a ragged moan, one hand reaching for you, the other fisting the sheets.

"Fuck yes," she gasps, her voice cracking with need. "More."

You oblige, pressing the toy firmer against her clit. Her thighs shake, her eyes fluttering closed as her body fights the edge.

Rio's hand slides between your legs, just to stroke - lazy and indulgent. Not to push, not yet. Just to remind you that you're still wanted. That this isn’t over.

“Let’s make her come,” she breathes. “And then you’ll get to taste it, won’t you?”

Agatha groans your name, the kind of sound that sticks in your spine.

"Don't stop," she pleads, teetering.

"You're so close," you murmur, the words instinctual now. "Come for me, mommy."

Her body seizes, thighs clamping around your hand, and then she’s crying out - high and broken and wrecked as she comes, shaking beneath you, hips jerking and grinding into the toy like she never wants it to end.

And Rio, behind you, moans low like the sight alone is enough to get her off.

“You want to taste the mess you made, sweet girl?” She purrs. 

You give a small nod in response - eager and wanting. 

Rio eases back from you, the heat of her touch still tingling across your skin. With a mischievous glint in her eye, she crawls over to Agatha, straddling her with practiced ease. She throws you a teasing wink just before lowering herself onto Agatha’s waiting mouth.

Your cheeks flush as Rio begins to grind against Agatha’s face with slow, deliberate rhythm - her moans spilling out low and unfiltered, filling the room with the sound of control and pleasure claimed.

Agatha’s hands grip tight around Rio’s thighs, holding her steady as Rio rolls her hips in slow, deliberate circles against her mouth. The soft, wet sounds fill the room, matched by Rio’s breathy moans - sharp and satisfied.

From her perch, Rio looks down at you with a sly, commanding smile. “Don’t just watch,” she says, voice thick with arousal. “Get down there. Make yourself useful.”

You obey without hesitation, crawling in close, the heat between Agatha’s thighs drawing you in like gravity. Her slickness coats her folds, a decadent blend of her own arousal and the aftermath of Rio grinding above her. You press your mouth to her, tasting her slowly at first - exploring, savoring.

Rio watches you from above, a hand in your hair as you work. “There you go,” she murmurs, rocking against Agatha’s face with a shudder. “She’s all yours, baby. Take what you want.”

Agatha moans into her, the vibration making Rio gasp, and you feel it reverberate against your tongue. She arches again but now beneath both of you, trapped in the shared rhythm you’ve built - her thighs tensing, her grip tightening.

The scene is layered, intense - Rio commanding from above, Agatha writhing between you both, and you lost in the taste and heat of her. It’s messy, intoxicating, and entirely yours.

Rio’s moans rise, a delicious tremble in her thighs as she slows her grinding. “Fuck,” she breathes, hips giving one last roll before she gently lifts herself off Agatha, thighs glistening. She looks down at you with a dark smile, dragging her fingers through your hair before slipping away and settling on the bed beside you, her back hitting the sheets with a satisfied sigh.

You barely have a moment to breathe before Agatha is behind you, her presence wrapping around you like silk and steel. She brushes your hair aside, lips grazing the shell of your ear.

“Think it’s your turn now, sweetheart,” she murmurs, voice dark and indulgent.

Your breath catches as she guides you up on your knees, fingers slipping around your waist with possessive ease. From the drawer beside the bed, she pulls out another harness - leather and gleaming chrome - and you feel your pulse quicken.

“Hold still,” she says, and her tone brooks no argument.

You obey, heart thudding as she fastens the straps around your hips, her hands firm and practiced. Each buckle snaps into place with deliberate clicks, her knuckles grazing your bare skin as she adjusts the fit - tight, secure, perfect.

“There,” she hums, stepping back to admire you, her hand trailing possessively down your spine. “God, look at you. So fucking delicious.”

You glance toward Rio, who lies back now with her legs parted, one hand idly teasing along the inside of her thigh as she watches you with a wicked grin.

Agatha steps closer again, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, then your jaw. “Now be a good girl,” she purrs, her voice low against your skin. “Ruin my wife for me.”

You move between Rio’s legs, the weight of the harness holding you in the moment, in the desire written all over her flushed face. She watches you through half-lidded eyes, lips parted, chest rising with every anticipatory breath.

Agatha climbs onto the bed and slides in next to her wife, their lips meeting in a kiss that’s slow, sensual, and so deeply familiar it makes your stomach flutter. You watch as Agatha’s hand finds its way between Rio’s thighs, fingers sliding through the slick you can already see glistening there.

Rio’s breath catches, hips twitching toward the contact. But she doesn’t look at Agatha - she’s watching you.

“Go on,” Agatha murmurs against Rio’s lips. “She’s ready for you.”

You move forward, guiding yourself into place, the pressure of the harness a steady reminder of what you’re about to give her. Rio moans softly as you push in, Agatha’s hand never leaving her, instead circling and stroking gently as you start to move.

The room fills with the sound of shared breath, whispered praises, and wet, rhythmic movement. Rio's head tips back, her mouth parting in a gasp, and Agatha kisses her throat, her cheek, her temple.

“That’s it,” Agatha whispers, watching her wife unravel beneath both your hands. “Look at you, taking our sweet girl so well.”

Rio’s moans deepen, her body arching between you and Agatha, caught in the pull of both your touches. Every thrust from you earns a new sound from her lips, each one more desperate, more pleading. Agatha’s fingers don’t falter - stroking her with practiced, deliberate pressure - her eyes dark and focused as she watches the way Rio falls apart beneath you.

“Such a good girl,” Agatha purrs lowly, her words just loud enough for you to hear. “Look at how desperate she is for you.”

Rio’s hand suddenly reaches for you, fingers curling around the back of your neck as she pulls you down, her lips catching yours in a messy, breathless kiss. She’s gasping into your mouth, her moans swallowed between kisses as her thighs tremble around your hips. The heat of her is all-consuming - her mouth, her body, the way she holds you like she can’t get you close enough.

“Don’t stop,” she whispers into your mouth. “Please…don’t you dare stop.”

Agatha kisses the edge of Rio’s jaw before whispering, “Let her ruin you, baby. You look so beautiful like this.”

And you do - you move harder, deeper, spurred on by the way Rio’s whole body tightens beneath you, by the way her nails press into your skin, by the low sounds spilling from Agatha’s throat as she watches her crumble. Between the three of you, there’s no space left untouched, no silence unfilled. Only sweat, breath, and the building pleasure curling hot and inevitable in the air.

Rio’s kisses turn frantic, uneven, her mouth parting around a moan as your pace holds steady - deep, unrelenting, coaxed by every trembling gasp and needy plea she offers up to you. Her head falls back against the pillows, breaking the kiss, exposing the arch of her throat as her nails dig into your hips.

Agatha’s voice comes again, soft and knowing. “That’s it, baby. You’re so close, aren’t you?”

Rio can’t answer, she only nods, eyes fluttering shut, hips jerking against yours with growing desperation. Agatha’s fingers move faster, her other hand tangled in Rio’s hair, holding her close as she whispers filth and praise in her ear.

You lean in, your body flush against hers, and watch - truly watch - the way Rio begins to fall apart. Her breath catches, her thighs start to shake, and she cries out, loud and raw, as her climax hits like a wave crashing into her.

She grips you tighter, legs clenching, her body trembling beneath you. Agatha kisses her through it, coaxing her through every second of it, and you hold her - strong and steady - until she finally stills, gasping, glowing, utterly undone.

Between you both, she melts into the mattress, completely wrecked. Agatha brushes her hair back, murmuring something sweet into her ear before looking up at you with a smirk.

“God, look what you did to her.”

Rio lets out a breathless laugh, eyes fluttering open. “You ruined me,” she whispers hoarsely, pulling you down to kiss her again - slow and grateful this time, her body warm and pliant beneath yours.

The room is quiet now, the air still humming with heat and intimacy, but softer somehow, like a song easing into its final note.

Your breathing is slowing, though your body still trembles faintly from the aftershocks, warmth radiating between you and them. You're cocooned in the tangle of limbs and blankets, but it's their voices that anchor you.

“You with us, sweetheart?” Agatha asks softly, voice warm and steady.

You nod, and she brushes your damp hair back from your face, her thumb grazing the edge of your brow. “That’s my good girl,” she murmurs. “You did so well.”

You manage a soft sound in return - not quite words, but enough. Rio slips out of bed for a moment and returns shortly with a warm, damp cloth and a bottle of water. She takes care of you without a word, gentle and attentive, her eyes never leaving yours as she wipes you down, soothing your skin.

“You didn’t just let go,” she says with a small smile. “You flew.”

You laugh, breath catching in your chest, still raw around the edges, but so full of affection you can hardly hold it all. You reach for her hand and she squeezes it in return, sliding back into the bed beside you.

Agatha pulls the blanket up over all three of you, her arm wrapping around your waist to tug you close. Rio curls around your other side, a leg sliding between yours, anchoring you.

There’s no rush. No need to move or speak. Just the soft thrum of shared breath and the cool weight of the sheets wrapping around your sticky skin. Every inch of you feels like it belongs here - caught between their bodies, their warmth, their steady presence.

Agatha kisses your shoulder, slow and lingering. “You were perfect, baby.”

Rio hums into your hair. “We’re going to need a whole day to recover.”

“I don’t think I’ll be able to walk,” you murmur, earning a lazy laugh from both of them.

“Worth it,” Agatha says, voice thick with pride.

The room fades into a gentle hush, broken only by quiet touches and the rhythmic beating of hearts pressed close together. Someone strokes your back - you think it's Agatha - and someone else rubs slow circles along your thigh. You feel completely undone, yet more whole than you’ve ever been.

Rio murmurs, “You’re not going anywhere, are you?”

“Not if I can help it,” you reply, honest and soft.

Agatha kisses your neck. “Good. We’d just have to come drag you back.”

The three of you settle together, the room cooling slowly around your bodies, breath syncing up, warmth tucked between you like a shared secret.

And finally, eyes heavy, heart full, you let sleep take you - nestled between two women who’ve undone you in every possible way, only to put you back together more completely than you’ve ever known.

Chapter Text

You wake slowly to the distant sound of a cartoon theme song playing somewhere in the house, muffled through walls, but unmistakably cheerful and chaotic. The sheets around you are soft and warm, tangled loosely at your hips, and the air is cool against your skin where the blanket’s slipped down.

Agatha’s side of the bed is empty. Still warm, faintly scented like her, something sweet and subtle, like lavender and vanilla. But Rio’s still there, her legs stretched long under the covers, one arm tucked behind her head, the other idly scrolling through her phone.

She glances at you as you stir, that slow, familiar smile pulling at her lips. “Mornin’, beautiful.”

Her voice is deliciously raspy, still thick with sleep.

You murmur a greeting back, blinking yourself into awareness.

“Sleep okay?” she asks, tossing her phone aside. Her full attention shifts to you - soft, curious, already teasing at the edges.

You nod, a little sore in the best way, your cheeks heating with the memory of the night before.

Rio’s smile shifts knowingly as she leans in and kisses your forehead. “Excited for today? Big meet-and-greet moment. Liv’s finally getting to meet the coolest couple in LA.”

That fluttery, anxious feeling stirs in your chest again, tight and twitchy in your ribs.

“I think so,” you admit. “I mean…I’m excited. But nervous. I want her to like you both.”

Rio raises a brow, her expression a mix of amusement and disbelief. “What’s not to like?”

You try to laugh it off, but she leans in to kiss your lips, slow and sweet, like she can kiss the worry right out of you. Her fingers brush your cheek.

“She’s gonna love us,” Rio murmurs, voice low. “And if not, we’ll just bribe her with snacks and board games. You know how irresistible we are.”

You smile despite yourself.

She stretches beside you with a content little groan, her t-shirt riding up over the curve of her stomach. “Agatha’s up with Nicky,” she adds. “They were doing animal impressions when I woke up. It was horrifying.”

You laugh, finally sitting up, the anxiety still there but quieter under Rio’s warmth.

“We should eat something,” she says. “Recharge. Last night was…” She smirks. “Exertive.”

You shake your head, grinning, and pull the blanket tighter around your shoulders.

You don’t know exactly how today will go. But with Rio smiling at you like that, and the promise of seeing Agatha soon - and maybe pancakes - you feel ready to face it.

You swing your legs out of bed, blanket still wrapped around your shoulders like a cape, and follow Rio down the hall barefoot, the floor cool under your toes. She glances back once, grinning at your cozy, half-dressed state. “You look like a sleepy little burrito.”

“Burritos don’t have anxiety,” you mumble, and she snorts.

“Tell that to breakfast burritos in Silver Lake. Existential crisis in every bite.”

The soft clatter of dishes and Nicky’s high-pitched giggle lead you to the kitchen, where Agatha stands barefoot at the stove, hair piled in a loose bun, one hand on her hip and the other stirring something in a pan. She’s wearing one of Rio’s sweatshirts - oversized and worn - and pajama shorts that show off long, strong legs. You’d recognize her silhouette anywhere.

Nicky’s at the counter with a cup of juice and a handful of blueberries, his attention split between a toy tiger and the real spectacle - Agatha doing a dramatic impression of what might be a goat.

“She was a duck ten minutes ago,” Rio says under her breath. “We’ve entered the barnyard medley phase.”

Agatha turns at the sound of your laugh, her face lighting up. “There’s my sleepyhead.”

She crosses the room to kiss your cheek, then brushes a hand over your back - light and grounding. “Hungry?”

“Starving,” you admit, leaning slightly into her.

“Good.” She heads back to the stove. “I’m making eggs and toast. We’re keeping it simple today.”

Rio flops into a chair and props her chin on her hand. “Because someone’s coming over,” she says sing-song, teasing.

You shoot her a look, but Agatha just arches an eyebrow. “Your friend’s coming into our den. We’re trying to appear normal.”

“Failing spectacularly,” you say, and Rio laughs again.

Agatha slides plates onto the table - fluffy eggs, toast with melting butter, strawberries sliced fresh. It smells like safety and effort and home. She pours coffee into mismatched mugs and nudges one toward you.

“You okay?” she asks, quieter now, eyes meeting yours as she takes the seat beside you.

You nod, but you can tell she doesn’t fully buy it.

“I just…” You trail off. “I hope today goes okay. I want her to like you.”

Agatha smiles, slow and warm, her hand slipping into yours under the table. “We’ll take it slow. It doesn’t all have to happen at once.”

Rio hums, halfway through a bite of toast. “Yeah, besides, if she’s weird about it, I’ll just beat her at Scrabble.”

“Obviously,” Agatha adds. “Viciously.”

The table buzzes with a quiet energy, a closeness you can feel in every shared glance and inside joke. And for a second, it’s easier to breathe.

Even if your stomach’s doing nervous flips, at least it’s doing them on a full breakfast.

After breakfast, the three of you scatter - plates cleared, mugs rinsed, Nicky already off to the living room dragging his toy tiger by the tail. Agatha glances around the kitchen with a dramatic sigh. “Alright, team. Let’s make it look like we aren’t living in a mild, bohemian disaster.”

Rio stretches with a groan and nudges you with her hip. “Come on, future girlfriend. Time to earn your keep.”

The words hit you square in the chest, warm and giddy. Your face heats instantly, and you try not to grin too hard as you accept the dish towel she offers, wiping down the counters with a shaky little laugh.

Agatha doesn’t miss a beat, tossing a glance your way with a knowing smile. “Oh, we’re using the titles now?”

“You love it,” Rio says with a smug little shrug, making a show of gathering Nicky’s scattered art supplies from the kitchen table.

“I really do,” Agatha replies, sliding in beside you to stack plates, her shoulder brushing yours deliberately. There’s an ease to it now, affection folded into the motion of the morning, steady and simple.

“I swear the toys multiply when we’re not looking,” Rio mutters as she tries to untangle a web of plastic animals from a fleece blanket. Nicky watches her like it’s part of a show, then leaps at her legs with a loud roar. “I’m under attack!”

“You’re the dinosaur now!” Nicky declares triumphantly. Rio collapses onto the carpet like she’s been vanquished, groaning dramatically.

“Fatal ankle bite. Tell my wives I love them.”

You snort, leaning against the counter as Agatha shakes her head fondly. “She’s your problem now.”

Rio reaches up a hand toward you. “Come, fair maiden. Rescue me with your radiant love.”

You cross to her, offering your hand, and she pulls you down, just enough to kiss the side of your neck before whispering, “Future girlfriend.”

Your blush deepens.

Agatha calls out, “You two better not be making out while I’m the only one cleaning.”

“Who, us?” Rio grins as she finally stands.

A pillow arcs across the room, smacking Rio in the shoulder. “Ten-minute break. Then vacuuming.”

You press your face into your hands, grinning like a fool. Nicky’s doing zoomies in his superhero cape again. Everything feels a little loud and bright and wonderful.

Then the doorbell rings.

The doorbell rings again, a cheerful chime that cuts through the soft thrum of a Saturday morning in motion.

Your body goes still for a beat, nerves prickling sharp beneath your skin. You wipe your hands on your jeans, glance toward Agatha, who gives you a warm little nod, and then at Rio, who’s scooping Nicky up under one arm like a sack of potatoes.

“You got this,” she says, smiling at you around the tangle of limbs and giggles. “Big inhale. Shake it out.”

You do.

One deep breath. Then another. Trying to exhale all the leftover worry. What if she doesn’t like them? What if it’s weird? You shove those thoughts down and take one last steadying breath before stepping toward the front door.

Your hand rests on the knob for a second longer than necessary.

Then - click.

The door swings open, and there she is.

Liv.

Wearing oversized sunglasses, a faded band tee, and that crooked, lopsided smile she always gets when she’s trying to mask her own nerves.

“Hey, stranger,” she says, tugging her tote bag higher on her shoulder.

“Hey,” you reply, voice soft but steady. “Come in.”

You step aside to let her in, heart hammering now for a different reason altogether.

Behind you, there’s laughter echoing from the living room. The smell of cinnamon and coffee still lingers in the air. And as the door closes behind her, you can feel the two parts of your life - your past and your maybe - start to shift together.

She steps over the threshold, taking it all in, her eyes scanning the cozy chaos of the house. The small pile of toys Nicky left near the coffee table. The fresh flowers on the sideboard that Agatha had arranged earlier. The rhythm of low music playing from the kitchen.

“It smells amazing in here,” Liv says, shrugging off her jacket and handing it to you out of habit.

“That’s mostly Agatha,” you say with a nervous chuckle. “She’s kind of a wizard with anything involving cinnamon.”

Liv raises an eyebrow. “She baking a pie or summoning a demon?”

You snort - too loud, too relieved. “Bit of both, probably.”

“Sounds promising,” she says, just as Agatha appears in the hallway, wiping her hands on a dish towel. She’s still in soft loungewear, curls piled up loosely, her smile kind and calm like she’s been expecting this moment to go well all along.

“Hi,” she says, offering her hand. “You must be Liv. I’m Agatha.”

Liv hesitates just a moment, then shakes her hand. “Yeah. Hi. You, uh, smell like trustworthiness and pastry. So far, so good.”

That earns a laugh from behind you. Rio, leaning in the doorway now, one hip cocked, Nicky draped lazily over her shoulder like he’s part of her outfit

“And I’m Rio,” she says, giving Liv a grin that’s equal parts challenge and charm. “Resident wife. Future girlfriend.”

Your stomach flips.

Liv blinks, glances at you, then back at Rio grinning in that sharp, amused way of hers. “Well. That’s...definitely not the intro I expected. But points for confidence.”

You, meanwhile, are burning . Heat rises to your cheeks so fast it’s like someone flipped a switch. Agatha reaches for your hand subtly, squeezing once. Just enough to ground you.

“I figured we could hang out here for a bit,” you mumble, clearing your throat. “Play something low-key, have some snacks...”

“Board games?” Liv asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh yeah,” Rio says, already walking past you both into the living room. “We’re planning on absolutely destroying you at Scrabble.”

“You wish,” Liv calls after her, toeing off her shoes. “I was an English major, remember?”

“She cheats,” you mutter to Liv, nudging her gently. “But don’t let her hear that.”

“I always hear everything,” Rio calls from the couch.

Agatha just winks at you and leans in to murmur, “You’re doing great, love.”

And for the first time since the doorbell rang, you really believe it.

“Can I get you something?” you ask, glancing over as Liv sinks into the armchair across from the couch. “Tea? Coffee?”

“Ooh,” she says, perking up. “Coffee would be great, actually. If it’s not a hassle.”

Agatha’s voice calls gently from the kitchen, “Milk? Sugar?”

Liv leans back, smirking. “Just milk, thanks.”

You shoot her a look. “Basic.”

She grins. “Like you’re not drinking the same thing.”

Rio raises her mug from the couch with a sly smile. “We are a household of extremely average coffee drinkers. It's part of the charm.”

You roll your eyes and head toward the kitchen, catching Liv mumble behind you, “Can’t believe you’re just walking into your girlfriends’ kitchen like it’s no big deal.”

Your heart does a small, happy somersault.

Agatha is already at the coffee machine when you step in, the gentle gurgle of brewing filling the space. She glances back at you, curls tied up today, a soft smile playing on her lips. “How’s she settling in?”

“She’s…being Liv,” you murmur, reaching up into the cupboard for an extra mug. “Snarky. Nosey. Quietly judging everything.”

Agatha chuckles as she pours a finished cup. “So she cares.”

“Exactly.” You grin, and Agatha hands you the mug, brushing her fingers against yours with just enough intention to send a little shiver through you.

“She’s important to you,” Agatha says, voice low but steady. “I hope she feels welcome here.”

“She does,” you say. “I think. She’s just cautious .”

Agatha leans in, presses a kiss to your cheek, and lingers there. “She’ll see what we see in you soon enough.”

You swallow a little smile and return to the living room, the scent of warm coffee and Agatha still clinging to your skin.

You bring Liv her coffee, and after a few more minutes of small talk, Rio claps her hands together and says, “Alright, troops. Shall we move to the battlefield?”

“The what now?” Liv raises an eyebrow.

“The living room floor,” Rio grins. “Where all great wars are waged, tonight’s game…Scrabble! Agatha’s requested we keep it civil this time.”

Agatha snorts softly as she carries a bowl of popcorn into the room. “You’re the one who spelled ‘sexily’ across a triple word score just to make Y/N blush.”

You blink. “Okay, but it worked.”

Rio throws you a wink while Agatha laughs under her breath and starts setting up the board on the coffee table. You all settle in - Liv curled into the armchair again, you cross-legged on the floor, and Agatha and Rio flanking you on the couch, both close enough that their knees press gently to your back.

Liv watches the setup with a faint smile, then mutters, “So is this, like, a regular thing now? Game nights with the throuple?”

You glance up, pulse ticking a little faster.

“Only if Y/N sticks around,” Agatha says easily, nudging you gently with her knee.

Rio doesn’t even look up from drawing her tiles. “We’re trying to be on our best behavior so she doesn’t run screaming.”

Liv sips her coffee. “Depends how long you want her around, I guess.”

Agatha’s gaze flicks up to meet hers, steady but kind. “We want her around.”

You feel your stomach flutter. Rio reaches down and casually ruffles your hair.

“She’s not a novelty, Liv,” she adds, tone light but firm. “We’re not, like, doing this for kicks.”

Liv raises her eyebrows. “You’re not? So…what is this, then?”

You fumble for a response, but Agatha gets there first, calm and certain. “This is us figuring something out together. Something that feels real.”

Rio grins. “And hot.”

Agatha groans. “Rio.”

“What?” Rio says, throwing down a tile. “Truth and hotness are not mutually exclusive. Double letter on the ‘T,’ by the way.”

You glance at Liv, who’s watching all of this with a strange sort of focus, like she’s waiting for something to crack.

You smile at her, a little wobbly. “They’re not playing with me, Liv. This is real. At least…it feels that way.”

She looks at you a second longer, then nods slowly. “Okay.”

A beat passes.

“Still going to wipe the floor with you all, though,” she adds, setting her first word on the board.

“Oh, it’s on, ” Rio declares.

Agatha smirks. “I’ll make snacks for the winner. And maybe a consolation prize for the loser I like most.”

You swallow a laugh, your cheeks already warm as you draw your first handful of letters.

The living room glows softly in the lamplight, warm and quiet in the hush of late evening. Outside, the sky has gone navy-black, the window panes reflecting the cozy sprawl of bodies and half-finished wine glasses inside.

Flamecraft lies scattered across the coffee table, little dragon tokens left in disarray from the final round. Agatha’s legs are tucked beneath her on the couch, wine glass dangling between two fingers. Rio lounges beside her, arm stretched along the back of the cushions, and you’re curled on the floor with Nicky nestled against your chest, his breath slow and even where he’s fallen asleep in your lap.

You hadn’t meant for him to, but at some point during the last turn, he’d wandered over, drowsy and sticky from popcorn fingers, and climbed into your lap like it was second nature. No one had questioned it. Agatha just smiled, brushing her fingers through his hair once as she passed you another token.

Now, he’s limp against you, heavy with sleep, your arms looped around him like instinct.

Liv sits cross-legged in the armchair, sipping slowly from her wine. Her gaze flicks between the three of you - quiet, calculating.

“So,” she says, tone almost casual. “Have you two done this before?”

Agatha glances up. “Done what?”

“Added a third.”

There’s a pause. A small beat of surprise in your chest.

Rio shrugs, lifting her glass to her lips. “We have.”

Your pulse jumps. You try not to move, to keep your face still, your arms steady around Nicky. But your thoughts race, faster than you can stop them.

Agatha catches the flicker in your eyes, and her voice softens as she sets her glass aside.

“Not like this,” she says firmly. “Never like this.”

Rio leans forward, nodding. “Those were flings. One-offs. Fun, and that’s all. Everyone knew the score.”

Agatha meets your gaze. “This is different. You’re different. This is something we want to grow. Something we’d like to make permanent. If that’s something you’d want…someday.”

You feel like your brain’s caught between two steps - heart jumping, throat tight. You open your mouth, but no words come.

Liv arches a brow. “Guess you haven’t talked about this very much.”

Your head snaps toward her before you can stop it. “This is new,” you say, sharper than intended. “I’m feeling it out . Like I’ve said. A hundred times.”

She holds her hands up slightly in a mock-defensive gesture. “Okay. Sorry.”

Nicky stirs against your chest at your raised voice, making a soft little noise as he shifts in your arms.

Rio is already moving, gentle and calm as she reaches out. “Hey, sweetheart,” she murmurs to you, her voice all soft edges. “Let me take him.”

You nod silently, letting her lift him from your arms. He burrows against her shoulder with a tired whimper, already halfway back to sleep. Rio disappears down the hallway without another word, leaving a soft gap in the conversation.

The silence stretches.

Liv exhales, finishing the last of her drink before setting it down. “Think I should get going.”

Agatha nods once. “Thanks for coming.”

Liv gives you one last look, something unreadable in her eyes, and gathers her coat and bag without another word.

You hear the front door open and shut softly. Then nothing but the hush of the house settling in around you.

A moment later, Rio reappears, her arms crossed gently over her stomach, brows raised just slightly as she looks between you and Agatha.

“You okay?” she asks quietly, not pushing, just offering.

Agatha shifts over on the couch, reaching out a hand toward you.

There’s room between them now.

And they’re waiting to see if you’ll fill it.

You sit in that stillness for a few moments, letting their words settle, letting your heartbeat catch up with the weight of the conversation. The flicker of candlelight dances along the walls, softening everything, but your mind is still sharp with the feeling of it, of them .

You swallow, then glance over, voice smaller than you expect it to be. “Do you really think this could be… permanent ? Wouldn’t that change your dynamic too?”

Agatha meets your eyes first. No hesitation. “It would,” she says plainly. “But we wouldn’t have said it if we weren’t ready for that.”

Rio nods beside her, her voice warm, steady. “We’ve had a lot of talks - long ones, messy ones, honest ones. This wasn’t spur-of-the-moment.”

“We didn’t come into this lightly,” Agatha adds, scooting a little closer now, just enough for your knees to touch. “But we also didn’t expect you. Not you. ”

Rio’s hand finds yours, gentle. “We’ve been us for a long time. Solid. But that doesn’t mean we’re closed off to something more. Not when it feels like this. ”

Agatha smiles, her thumb brushing the edge of your knee. “We’ve always said if we were going to open this up for real, in a serious way, it wouldn’t be for just anyone.”

Rio squeezes your fingers. “It’d have to be someone we both fell for.”

You can feel it all cracking you open - gentle, slow - but undeniable. You blink quickly, only realizing the tears on your cheeks when Agatha leans in to wipe one away with her thumb.

“You okay, sweetheart?” she murmurs.

You laugh softly, breath hitching. “Yeah. Just feeling a lot.”

“We are too,” Rio says, leaning her shoulder against yours. “But we meant it. We want this. We want you. We adore you.”

She tilts her head, her voice almost teasing, but tender beneath it. “Heck, we’ve even talked about what it might look like to make things official someday.”

Your head snaps up at that, surprised, but not in a bad way. Agatha chuckles softly at your expression.

“We have questions, of course,” Rio adds gently. “We have so much to learn about doing this right. About doing right by you.”

You wipe your eyes again, trying to keep your voice from cracking. “You can ask me anything.”

Agatha leans forward, resting her forehead against yours.

“Then let’s figure this out together.”

The wine’s long forgotten on the table, the night settling comfortably around the three of you like a blanket. You’re nestled between Rio and Agatha again, your legs draped over Rio’s lap, Agatha’s arm loose around your shoulders. It feels safe, charged with something unspoken, but warm.

Rio tilts her head, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Soooo…had you been with a woman before us?”

Your face flushes instantly. “Yes,” you admit, voice soft but steady. “I’ve only ever been with women, actually. Since I was a teen I just always leaned that way. I never really got what all my friends were obsessing over with guys.”

That makes them both chuckle - Rio with a quiet hum of satisfaction, Agatha with a low, pleased laugh.

“Knew you were experienced,” Agatha teases, fingers brushing up your arm. “Those moans you pulled out of me? That kind of thing doesn’t come from inexperience.”

Your face burns deeper, caught between flattery and flustered pride. Agatha lets the silence linger just long enough before she adds, voice softer now, “What about older women?”

You hesitate, then nod. “That was the next thing. Women my age just…we never really clicked. They wanted to go out all the time, party, do drugs, whatever. That wasn’t what I was into. I knew I liked older women, but I didn’t think I’d ever actually find that. And then I met you two and my god, you made me swoon so hard.”

Rio lets out a quiet laugh and leans in to kiss you - short, sweet, and affectionate. Then she pulls back just enough to look into your eyes and grin. “There it is. That blush is all the proof I need.”

You groan and bury your face in your hands, but the warmth in your chest stays there, humming.

After a beat, you peek out between your fingers. “Okay but, real talk for a second. What the fuck do you guys actually do for work?”

They both burst out laughing.

Rio leans back dramatically. “I knew it was coming eventually.”

Agatha snorts. “Yeah, we figured the mystery would only last so long.”

You narrow your eyes playfully. “Because seriously. I’ve never seen either of you actually work . I’m starting to think this is just some elaborate scheme to lure women into your home with wine and board games.”

Agatha stands, stretching with a grin. “C’mon. Let us show you.”

You follow them down the hallway, past the rooms you already know, past Nicky’s quiet room, the spare room, and toward a door at the far end that’s always been closed.

Agatha opens it with a quiet flourish. “Welcome to HQ.”

The room is sleek. Modern. Somehow both incredibly functional and deeply personal. There are two matching desks, massive monitor setups, softly glowing LED strips, whiteboards with scribbled diagrams, sketches, and post-it notes. Bookshelves packed with tech manuals and art books. There’s even a little couch tucked in the corner, a coffee station on a side table.

You take it all in, stunned. “Whoa…”

Rio drops into one of the chairs and spins slightly, gesturing around. “We co-own a boutique tech consultancy. Started it just the two of us.”

Agatha settles on the edge of her desk. “I handle the security side - cybersecurity infrastructure, ethical hacking, secure architecture. Rio leads the design and branding wing. We’re kind of a package deal.”

Rio smirks. “I make the things pretty and usable. Agatha makes sure no one can break them.”

You blink. “That’s seriously badass.”

Agatha raises a brow. “Did you think we just seduced babysitters full time?”

You flush again, laughing. “No! I mean-I didn’t think that.”

Rio grins. “We work from home most of the time. We built this place around being able to do that. But when we need to, we fly out. High-level clients. Fintech, defense contracts, startup launches. Stuff like that.”

You step further into the room, fingers brushing the edge of one of their keyboards.You blink. “So you’re telling me I’m dating two powerful tech goddesses and I didn’t even know it?”

As soon as the word dating leaves your mouth, your heart skips, and your eyes widen a little. “Wait, um-no, not dating -I mean, not that I thought that-we’re just…” You trail off, cheeks burning, stumbling over your words.

Agatha tilts her head, smiling softly. “You can be dating two women who are madly into you,” she says gently. “If you’re interested.”

Rio watches you carefully, the same quiet affection in her expression. “The rest is just extra.”

Your chest tightens with emotion again, overwhelmed by how openly they offer this to you, no pressure, no expectation, just truth.

You give a breathless laugh, eyes glassy. “You two are going to ruin me.”

Agatha smirks, crossing her arms. “We plan to. In the most loving, structured, mutually beneficial way.”

Rio laughs, then reaches out and pulls you in between them. “Welcome to our strange little world.”

And just like that, you're in their arms again - surrounded, held, wanted.

Wanted.

Their bodies close in on either side of you - Agatha warm and solid at your back, Rio in front, her eyes locked on yours, expression soft but electric. The air in the office seems to still around you, thick with something unspoken but mutual. It purrs low in your bones.

You’re not even sure who moved first. One moment, you were wrapped in their arms, heart still reeling from their words, and the next, Rio was kissing you, her hands in your hair, her body pressing gently but insistently into yours.

Agatha’s hands settle on your hips. “Still with us?” she murmurs, lips near your ear.

You nod, breath catching. “Yeah.”

“Good girl,” she says, voice low and warm. “Let us show you what that means to us.”

Rio draws you backward, until your thighs bump against the edge of the desk. She smiles against your lips. “Always wanted to have you here,” she murmurs, nipping softly at your lower lip.

You blush, but it’s the kind that simmers - not shy, but kindled.

Agatha’s hands slip under your shirt as she stands behind you, gliding up your sides with practiced ease. Every movement is measured, adoring. They aren’t rushing, even here, where the energy pulses just beneath the surface.

“Hands on the desk, sweetheart,” Agatha murmurs.

You obey, palms bracing against the cool wood, your breath shallow but steady. Rio kisses your shoulder, her fingers ghosting the newly exposed skin.

“You’re so damn attractive,” she says. “And so open and trusting.”

You feel Agatha’s hands at your waistband, tugging slowly, and she pauses just long enough to ask, “Can we?”

“Yes,” you breathe, too full of them to think twice.

Clothing falls away in pieces, and the room seems to tighten around you, every breath louder, every heartbeat echoed in the stillness of the office. The desk creaks softly as you shift, Rio leaning in to kiss you again while Agatha’s hands roam your thighs, up, then back down, building pressure and heat.

Rio bites her lip as she watches you melt between them, one hand cupping your jaw. “You don’t even know what you do to us, do you?”

You shake your head slightly, breathless. “Show me.”

Agatha growls softly at that, her mouth finding the back of your neck, kissing, biting, soothing. “Oh, we plan to.”

The tension builds like a storm cloud - thick, slow, aching.

Rio slips a hand between your legs, the other braced on the desk beside you, her body close enough that her breath ghosts along your cheek, her eyes fixed on every twitch of your expression.

Agatha stands at your side, one hand gripping your jaw, tilting your face toward her. The other snakes around your waist, keeping you steady as you lean against the edge of the desk, the cool wood pressing firm against your lower back. Her presence is solid, hips brushing yours as she leans in, lips just a breath from your ear.

“Look at you,” she murmurs, voice low. “Falling apart already.”

You're caught between them, Rio’s fingers moving slow and sure, Agatha’s grip a perfect balance of command and comfort. The heat builds fast under their attention, under the quiet confidence in the way they touch you, like they already know how this ends and they’re just enjoying the unraveling.

They watch you together, not just with hunger, but with something softer beneath it. Something like awe. Something like love.

No bed. No sheets. No softness.

Just the desk at your back, the press of warm bodies around you, and the kind of intimacy that doesn’t need candlelight or comforters to feel deep.

The quiet sound of Agatha’s bare feet against the hardwood is the only thing you hear as she steps away, deliberate and unhurried, circling around behind you. For a heartbeat, you think she’s leaving entirely,  but then you hear the quiet creak of her desk chair as she sinks into it, legs crossing, her eyes never leaving your body.

“Don’t mind me,” she says, voice warm, lazy. “I want to see how well my wife handles you.”

Rio grins, lips brushing your ear as she leans in close. “You hear that?” she murmurs, fingers trailing oher your bare skin, grazing the skin of your stomach. “She wants a show.”

Then she kisses you - hot, deliberate -  and wastes no time in hiking you up onto the edge of the desk. The papers scattered across it crinkle under you, forgotten. She stands between your knees, spreading them wide, her hands anchoring to your thighs.

She holds your gaze as she sinks to her knees, slow and confident, the pads of her thumbs pressing gently into your inner thighs as she leans in. One kiss, then another, just above the hem of your underwear. She noses against the damp fabric, breathing you in like she’s savoring it.

Behind her, Agatha hums approvingly. “You always were good with your mouth, darling.”

Rio flashes a smirk over her shoulder. “Watch closely, then.”

She drags your underwear down your thighs with agonizing care, fingers skimming your hips as she bares you. And then she’s leaning in again, tongue parting you, slow and sure, the first long lick stealing the breath right out of your lungs.

Your back arches off the desk, fingers gripping the edge behind you for leverage.

She doesn’t rush. She teases. Licks and swirls, drawing soft moans from your throat as her tongue flicks over your clit again and again, relentless but unhurried. Every movement feels purposeful,  designed to unravel you one stroke at a time.

Your head tips back. Across the room, Agatha watches from her chair, one hand propped beneath her chin, the other idly resting over her knee, her eyes half-lidded but sharp with focus. She doesn’t speak again, doesn’t interfere. She just watches as if she’s studying art.

“Touch yourself,” Rio says suddenly, voice muffled against you. “I want you to show her how close you are.”

You obey without thinking, fingers finding your breast, pinching lightly as Rio sucks your clit between her lips, moaning into you when she feels the way your thighs tremble against her cheeks.

She doesn’t slow down. If anything, she doubles down, tongue flicking with just enough pressure to have your hips twitching. She looks up at you, pupils blown wide, a flush rising high on her cheeks as she watches your hand move, watches you fall apart.

Agatha leans forward slightly, arms on her knees, eyes locked to the place where Rio kneels between your thighs and your own fingers move in sync with her. There’s a heat in her stare that makes your skin prickle, not just arousal, but pride. Hunger.

“Good girl,” she murmurs. “That’s it. Let her make you come.”

Your thighs clench around her head, your breath hiccupping with every rise of pleasure, that deep tension building low in your belly like a fuse finally catching fire.

Agatha watches it all with rapt attention, her bare foot tapping once against the floor - slow, steady - like a metronome to your unraveling.

“Let go for us,” she says, low and coaxing. “Let her taste how much you want us.”

And you do.

Your climax crashes over you like a tidal wave - sharp and hot and dizzying, your back arching off the desk, legs trembling around Rio’s shoulders. She holds you steady through it, moaning into you like she wants every bit of it, lapping through your release.

You cry out her name - maybe both their names - you’re not even sure, everything blurring into light and sound and touch.

Rio only pulls back once your hips twitch with overstimulation, her mouth glistening, lips curved in smug satisfaction. “God, you’re pretty when you come,” she whispers.

Agatha smiles wider from her chair, slow and lazy. “You should see yourself,” she says to Rio, voice rough with affection. “Almost makes me jealous.”

Rio glances back at her, grinning. “Then come over here.”

Chapter Text

The world returns slowly, not with bright light or sudden noise, but a quiet warmth and the weight of tangled sheets and bodies.

You shift slightly, enough to feel the pleasant ache humming low in your limbs, a whisper of last night still etched into your muscles. The bed is warm, the air still thick with the scent of skin and sweat and something sweeter, the kind of closeness that doesn’t wash away with time.

Agatha is behind you, her body a solid line of heat along your back, one arm slung around your waist, hand resting just beneath the curve of your ribs. You feel her breathing, slow and even, her chest rising and falling against you in a rhythm that lulls rather than stirs.

Rio is in front, curled loosely against your chest, her leg hitched lazily over yours, fingers brushing along your forearm. Her eyes are half-lidded, soft with sleep but aware enough to notice when you start to stir.

“Morning,” she murmurs, her voice rough with sleep, but laced with that signature drawl - relaxed, amused, affectionate.

You purr in response, still not fully ready to break the spell of the bed. Your cheek rests against her shoulder, your hand gently finding hers beneath the sheets.

“Sleep well?” she asks, her thumb stroking across your knuckles.

A breathy laugh escapes you. “Eventually.”

Rio grins. “Yeah. Took a while to wear you out.”

Behind you, Agatha groans softly but doesn’t open her eyes. “You’re both menaces,” she mumbles into your hair. “I should’ve filmed it. Or gotten a medal.”

You nuzzle deeper into Rio’s collarbone. “Definitely a medal. Maybe two.”

Rio hums. “You feeling okay this morning? Not too sore?” Her tone is still teasing, but under it is genuine concern.

“I'm a little sore,” you admit, flushing faintly, “but in a good way.”

She leans in and kisses the top of your head. “Then we did our job.”

There’s a quiet pause. Nothing heavy, just the three of you suspended in this slow, syrupy moment before the day really begins.

“You hungry?” Agatha asks, her voice raspier now as she finally starts to wake more fully. “We should get you something. Maybe bring coffee back to bed.”

“That sounds perfect,” you murmur.

Rio stretches, her shirt riding up her stomach. “Mm. I’ll get it. You stay here.”

But you catch her hand before she can slip away.

“Wait,” you whisper, holding onto the stillness. “Just a little longer.”

She smiles at that, crawling back beneath the covers, and tugs you into her embrace. Agatha wraps around you both from behind, warm and sure. The bed creaks slightly as you all settle back in - a messy heap of tangled limbs and full hearts.

For a while, there’s nothing but breath and touch and the slow return of the sun beyond the curtains.

Eventually, Rio sighs against your shoulder, not out of impatience, but fondness, her fingers drawing idle circles into your arm. “Okay,” she murmurs, kissing your temple once more. “Now I’ll go get coffee before someone gets too comfortable and falls asleep again.”

You smile sleepily. “No promises.”

Agatha chuckles and nuzzles your hair as Rio slips out from under the covers and pads out into the hallway. The creak of the floorboards fades, replaced by the distant sounds of the coffee machine sputtering to life.

You rest there in the quiet with Agatha, her breath warming the back of your neck.

“She really meant what she said last night,” Agatha says softly, voice still thick with sleep. “We both did.”

You nod, the weight of it all still settling somewhere behind your ribs. “I know. I believe you.”

A pause.

“I guess I didn’t realize how much I wanted to believe it until Liv brought it up.”

Agatha’s arm tightens around you, reassuring. “She pushed a little hard, huh?”

You let out a dry laugh. “Yeah. But that’s Liv. She means well, even if she doesn’t always know when to stop.”

“She’s protective of you,” Agatha muses. “But she doesn’t see all of you like we do.”

You shift slightly, turning so you can glance back at her. “I just wish she’d trust that I know what I’m doing. That I feel good here with you two.”

“You looked a little shaken.”

You nod. “A bit. It was a lot. But not bad. Just…new.”

Agatha presses a kiss to the base of your neck. “You handled it beautifully.”

Before you can answer, Rio returns, balancing three mugs in her hands with a proud little flourish. “Caffeine for my favorite people.”

She sets them down on the nightstand and hands you yours, brushing your fingers as she does. You catch her eye, the fondness there so open, so honest, it almost hurts.

You sit up slowly, sipping carefully, warmth blooming through you, and not just from the coffee.

After a few quiet sips, you shift again, nudging the covers aside. “I think I’m going to take a quick shower.”

Rio gives you a lazy grin. “Need help?”

You roll your eyes, smiling. “Not that kind of shower.”

Agatha swats Rio’s thigh. “Let her go, menace.”

They both watch as you slip from the bed, the sunlight catching bare skin and soft lines as you stretch, legs still a little wobbly. There’s a sense of being cherished in the way their eyes follow you, not just with hunger, but with something steadier. Something sure.

The bathroom’s quiet as you turn the water on, steam already curling in the corners. You step in, letting the warm spray work its way down your shoulders, over your spine, soothing the ache and softening the last traces of sleep.

After a few minutes, the door creaks open.

You glance over to see Agatha entering, now wrapped in one of her robes, toothbrush in hand. She says nothing at first, just meets your gaze in the mirror as she begins brushing, her expression calm, affectionate.

Her eyes don’t leave you - not in a possessive way, but in that quiet, adoring way of someone who still can’t quite believe you’re here.

You finish rinsing your hair and turn slightly, catching her gaze again. “What?”

She smiles, her mouth full of foam. Spits. Rinses. Then, stepping closer to the mirror beside you, she says with a soft, husky warmth, “Just admiring the view.”

You shake your head, blushing faintly.

Agatha leans in to press a kiss to your damp shoulder, her hand steadying you at the hip. “You looked at home in there, with us,” she murmurs. “Last night. This morning. Like you were always meant to be.”

You don’t say anything for a moment, heart thudding. Instead, you turn and wrap your arms around her waist, wet skin meeting the softness of her robe.

“I’m still getting used to this,” you whisper. “But…yeah. It feels like home.”

She kisses your forehead, slow and deliberate. “Good.”

Later that morning, after breakfast and soft exchanges over shared toast crusts and stolen sips of coffee, the three of you manage to shake off the haze of the bed and get dressed. The mood lingers, though - something gentle, affectionate, tethered by glances and quiet brushes of hands as you move around each other.

It’s Rio who suggests the outing, tossing a scarf around her neck and nudging Agatha’s hip as she pulls on her boots. “We should take Y/N to the lake.”

Agatha pauses mid buttoning her coat, eyes lighting just a little. “Yeah. That’s a good idea.”

You glance between them. “What lake?”

“Our lake,” Rio says simply, looking pleased with herself. “C’mon. You’ll see.”

They load up the car with practiced ease, Nicky bounding into the back seat the moment the door opens. He’s already dressed and wide awake, slinging his backpack in after him like he’s gearing up for an adventure. “I brought my sketchbook!” he announces proudly. “And the good markers.”

“You came prepared,” Rio grins, sliding in beside him.

You settle into the front passenger seat as Agatha adjusts the mirrors and starts the engine. The car growls to life, the interior filling with soft music and morning light. Agatha’s hand brushes your thigh as she shifts into gear, her fingers lingering for a moment.

The drive is peaceful, a lullaby of trees flickering past the windows, all green and gold in the shifting spring light. You watch Agatha’s profile as she drives, calm and focused, her free hand occasionally reaching over to squeeze yours or rest on your knee.

In the back, Rio and Nicky chatter between themselves, their voices a comforting undercurrent. Every so often, Rio leans forward to point something out through the windshield - an old trail marker, a half fallen fence, a tree she claims looks like a giraffe if you squint just right.

Eventually, Agatha slows near a narrow turnoff you never would’ve noticed on your own. The road gives way to gravel, then to grass, and finally to a clearing tucked deep between tall, leaning pines. Beyond them, the lake stretches wide and still, glassy and gold under the rising sun.

Nicky is out of the car in an instant, bolting for the shoreline with a triumphant whoop. “I win!” he calls back over his shoulder.

Rio follows more leisurely, laughing, his backpack slung over one shoulder. “No one was racing you, goofball!”

You climb out as Agatha shuts off the engine. She comes around to your side and takes your hand, brushing a kiss against your temple before you all head down toward the lake.

“We found this place the first year we moved here,” Rio explains once you’re walking. “Total accident. Got lost during a hike and ended up right here.”

Agatha nods, her thumb sweeping along the back of your hand. “We kept coming back. Birthdays, anniversaries, lazy Sundays…big talks.”

“Or no talking,” Rio adds. “Sometimes we just needed somewhere quiet.”

The lake is exactly that - a quiet kind of beautiful that doesn’t ask anything of you. The sun dances across the water, and a rickety old dock stretches into the shallows. Agatha retrieves a blanket from the trunk and shakes it out across the sun warmed wood while Rio rummages through Nicky’s backpack for snacks.

You settle with them at the edge of the dock, legs dangling over the side, toes just brushing the cool surface. Nicky is already sketching nearby, tongue sticking out in concentration as he tries to capture the shimmer of the lake.

Agatha leans back beside you, one arm draped casually across your shoulders, and Rio lounges on the other side, sunglasses perched on her nose, her head tipped toward the sky.

“It’s different, bringing someone here,” Agatha says after a long moment, voice quiet. “We’ve never done that before.”

You glance between them, heart beating a little faster. “Why me?”

Rio doesn’t hesitate. “Because we couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

Agatha smiles, brushing your hair behind your ear. “Because it felt right.”

You don’t say anything - just nod, warmth blooming in your chest, soft and certain.

A few feet away, Nicky flops back onto the blanket with a sigh, holding his drawing above his face to inspect it critically. “It’s missing something,” he mutters.

“More trees?” you offer.

“More frogs,” he says, completely serious. “Definitely needs frogs.”

Rio snorts and nudges your knee with hers. “Kid’s got a vision.”

And for a while, that’s all there is: soft laughter, the smell of pine, the glittering lake, and the easy closeness of something that feels like it could last a lifetime.

Later, after Nicky has migrated a few feet away to build a lopsided stone fortress near the water’s edge, the three of you settle into a quieter stretch of the dock. The blanket rustles beneath you as Agatha shifts to lie on her side, her head propped up on one hand, while Rio stretches out on her back, her fingertips absently brushing yours.

The sun’s a little higher now, the lake rippling gently in the breeze, and it’s the kind of moment that feels suspended, like the world’s holding its breath just long enough to let you catch yours.

Agatha speaks first, her voice soft but steady. “We’ve been thinking.”

That earns a side glance from Rio, amused. “Dangerous pastime.”

Agatha smirks, nudging her with her foot before her eyes return to you - focused, but not intense. “About…this. Us.”

Rio sits up a little, bracing her hands behind her. “Not just for last night. Or this week. Or whenever we can sneak you into our bed.”

Your cheeks warm, but you don’t look away. You feel the air shift slightly, a new kind of weight to it. Not heavy, just real.

“We’re not perfect,” Agatha adds, voice gentler now. “God knows. We’re messy. We juggle work and Nicky and each other, and sometimes we leave laundry in the washer for three days.”

“But,” Rio picks up, eyes searching yours with a rare kind of seriousness, “we love hard. And we don’t do this halfway. So, if you’d be up for it-if you want-we were thinking…”

“…We’d like to make this an official thing,” Agatha finishes. “Like, real girlfriends. All of us. You, me, Rio.”

You blink once, twice, and then smile - that slow, stunned kind of smile that spills from deep in your chest. “Yeah,” you say, quiet but sure. “I’d like that. I really would.”

Agatha exhales a soft breath, her hand sliding into yours. Rio leans in and presses a kiss to your cheek, then your temple, and Agatha mirrors it with one to your jaw. You can feel them smiling against your skin.

There’s a beat of stillness, then Rio chuckles, low and warm. “We’re gonna need a new babysitter.”

Agatha snorts. “They’re hard to come by. Especially ones who don’t mind cleaning glitter slime off the ceiling.”

You laugh, and it’s bright and easy.

Agatha presses her forehead to your shoulder, her voice warm against your skin. “You’re going to ruin us.”

“Too late,” Rio grins, flopping back onto the blanket and tugging you down with her. “We’re already ruined.”

The three of you lie there in the sunlight, tangled and content, your fingers laced with theirs, your heart full in a way you didn’t know it could be. Nicky’s laughter rings out from the shore as he hurls a rock into the lake with a victorious shout, and all you can do is smile and let the moment wrap around you like a blanket - soft, certain, and entirely yours.

That evening, the house is washed in golden light and the lingering scent of sun-warmed skin and lake water. Dinner is easy - leftovers and laughter, everyone slightly sun-drunk and happily worn out. Nicky chatters through mouthfuls of pasta, recounting the number of rocks he skipped, or tried to, how many frogs he almost caught, and how fast he could run if he were allowed to bring a jetpack to school.

Afterward, it's you who volunteers to tuck him in. His pajamas are too big in the sleeves, his favorite ones with the glow in the dark stars. He yawns halfway through his storybook, his little body curling toward you without hesitation. You smooth his hair back, press a kiss to his forehead, and turn off the light, the glow stars slowly flickering to life around him as you leave the door just slightly ajar.

In the living room, Agatha and Rio are curled up on the couch, a half finished bottle of red wine on the coffee table, glasses already poured. The overhead lights are off, just a floor lamp casting a soft amber glow across the room. The space feels lived in, easy, the kind of comfort that doesn’t demand anything.

You sink into the space between them with a quiet sigh, their warmth already waiting for you.

“Bedtime success?” Rio asks, handing you a glass.

You nod. “He’s out cold. Might snore the roof off.”

Agatha chuckles. “That’s how you know it was a good day.”

There’s a pause, the kind where everyone just leans into the quiet and lets it stretch. Then Rio perks up, nudging Agatha’s leg with hers. “Okay, so, birthday party ideas.”

Agatha groans playfully, reaching for her wine. “Already?”

Rio shrugs. “It’s only a couple weeks away. We need a plan.”

They start tossing around ideas - nothing grand or over the top, just the kind of simple joys a kid would love. A backyard scavenger hunt. A piñata that may or may not end in disaster. A space themed cake, complete with edible stars and “galactic goo.” You listen, sipping your wine, heart quietly swelling.

After a few minutes, you murmur, “Am I…invited?”

The room stills, just for a breath. Then Agatha turns toward you, brow furrowed like she honestly can’t believe you had to ask.

“Of course you are,” she says, her tone thick with sincerity.

Rio leans in closer, resting her chin on your shoulder, voice warm and teasing. “We’re introducing our new girlfriend to friends and family. It’s a big deal.”

The words land - sweet, certain, real - and you smile before you even mean to. But then your stomach flips a little, nerves curling at the edges of the warmth.

“Family?” you echo, quieter.

Agatha catches it instantly. She doesn’t push, just rests her hand on your knee. “We don’t have to tell anyone you’re not ready for.”

Rio nods, her cheek brushing yours. “This doesn’t need to move faster than you want. We’re proud to be with you. But we want you to feel safe.”

You look at them, both of them, and feel that strange, steady love again. No pressure. Just invitation. Just care.

“Thanks,” you say, barely above a whisper. “I think I’ll be ready. Soon.”

They smile, and that’s enough.

The rest of the evening is a soft sprawl of legs and blankets, half finished glasses of wine, and shared glances full of something unsaid but deeply understood. You feel it in the way Rio leans her head on your shoulder, the way Agatha’s fingers find yours beneath the blanket.

Here, in this home you’re slowly becoming a part of, everything feels a little more possible.

Chapter Text

It’s early, sunlight slanting through the kitchen window in soft golden stripes. The house is quiet at first, save for the faint hum of Agatha’s voice drifting in from the office. You pass the doorway just as she’s saying something sharp and efficient, her hands moving as she speaks, pacing with her glasses low on her nose. Her hair’s still wild from sleep, though she’s swapped pajamas for a soft cotton tee and joggers.

She catches sight of you in the hallway and points toward Rio, who’s sitting at the kitchen table nursing a mug of coffee.

“Can you come in here for a sec?” Agatha says, tone clipped but not unkind. “It’s that security audit thing - the Jenkins contract.”

Rio raises her brows, then gets up with a mock salute. “Yes, boss lady.”

She brushes past you with a wink, still in her oversized sleep shirt, hair piled in a messy bun, mug still in hand. You watch them disappear into the office together, the door swinging shut behind them, and smile to yourself.

Nicky’s already up. You find him curled on the couch like a cat, blanket around his shoulders, watching cartoons with the slack jawed attention of a kid fully locked in. His favorite blue cup is on the floor beside him, empty.

“Morning, trouble,” you say, nudging his foot with yours.

He grins. “Hey. I already got dressed!”

He’s in mismatched socks and a shirt that might be backward, but technically, he’s not wrong.

“You want breakfast?” you ask, heading toward the kitchen.

“Yes please! Can I have the waffles with the dinosaurs on them?”

You make them - two dino waffles and a small mountain of strawberries - and bring it all out with a fork he’ll probably ignore. He beams, flipping the blanket over your lap when you sit beside him.

You both settle into the familiar buzz of the TV, his little body leaning lightly against your side, his fork occasionally finding your hand by mistake. The house smells like coffee and warm syrup, faintly like Agatha’s vanilla shampoo, and there’s something about this quiet morning that feels like it’s settling deep into your chest. Ordinary. Easy. Good.

It’s maybe half an hour later when the office door creaks open again. You glance up to see Rio step out first, followed by Agatha. Both of them look toward the living room and pause for a beat.

Their eyes land on you - curled up, in one of Rio’s sweatshirts, hair still rumpled from sleep, tucked in beside Nicky with a plate of half eaten waffles between you. And for some reason, they both smile like it’s the most beautiful thing they’ve ever seen.

You roll your eyes at them, smirking. “You two are being weird.”

Agatha crosses her arms, leaning on the doorframe. “We’re allowed to admire the view.”

Rio grins. “How’s our tiny roommate?”

“Fuelled by sugar and dinosaurs,” you reply, patting Nicky’s head. “How was the call?”

Agatha sighs. “Mostly fine. But I need to go out of town this weekend - Friday through Sunday. That new client’s system is a mess. I want hands on it before they go live.”

Rio leans her head against Agatha’s shoulder. “It’s a good contract, though.”

Agatha nods. “High profile. But, I’ll miss you both.”

Your heart tugs a little at that. She says it so plainly, so sincerely.

You shift a little under the blanket, brushing crumbs off your lap as Agatha talks about the client. Nicky’s now busy dipping one of the waffle dinosaurs into a suspicious mix of syrup and strawberry juice like it’s a science experiment. You watch him for a beat, then glance back at the two women in the doorway.

“I’ve got work tonight,” you say, voice casual. “Babysitting for that family on Maple. And the morning shift at the café tomorrow.”

Rio groans, dragging a hand down her face. “Our hardworking girl,” she teases, wandering toward the couch. “You’re going to run yourself into the ground.”

Agatha hums in agreement, though her gaze on you is softer. “You need rest too, sweetheart.”

You wave them off with a small smile. “I’ll be fine. Besides, I was thinking, if Agatha’s gone this weekend, I can be around to help out. With Nicky. I’ll make sure not to take any sitting gigs.”

There’s a beat of silence, not awkward, just…full.

Agatha straightens a little. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I know,” you say, already anticipating the offer before it comes. “And you don’t need to pay me. You’re not a babysitting job anymore.”

Rio looks up at that, eyes bright. “Oh?”

You gesture vaguely. “You’re basically feeding and housing me. Feels a little weird to invoice you on top of that.”

Rio chuckles, rounding the couch and plopping herself down beside you. She grabs the last waffle off Nicky’s plate, earning a halfhearted protest, and takes a triumphant bite.

“Well, I for one would love the company this weekend,” she says, mouth half full, eyes sparkling as she throws you a wink. “Especially if it means shared snacks and someone else dealing with bath time.”

Agatha makes a small noise of amusement, walking over to gently brush her fingers through Rio’s hair as she passes. She leans down, placing a kiss to Rio’s temple before heading toward the kitchen.

“Still stealing waffles, I see.”

“Squatter’s rights,” Rio mutters through another bite.

You snort, relaxing deeper into the cushions. Nicky yawns beside you, curling tighter into your side, and you let your hand rest lightly on his shoulder. It’s easy, this moment - quiet, affectionate, the edges softened by morning light and unspoken understanding.

Nicky lets out a dramatic sigh, the kind only eight year olds can truly master, and slouches deeper into your side. His plate is mostly syrup now, his fork forgotten on the cushion beside him.

“Alright, kiddo,” comes Agatha’s voice, calm but firm from the kitchen doorway.

You glance up. She’s leaning on the frame with her arms crossed, a dish towel draped over one shoulder, her hair still wild, caught in a soft halo of sunlight. Her tone is light, but there’s no mistaking the mom-energy in it.

“Time to brush those teeth,” she says, pointing toward the hall. “You must have at least three days worth of sugar in your mouth.”

Nicky groans. “But I’m resting .”

“You can rest after. Upstairs. In actual clothes.”

He pouts, but uncoils himself slowly, standing with a heavy, theatrical stretch. “Okay, okay. But if my toothbrush gets all foamy like last time, I’m blaming the dinosaurs.”

“Noted,” Agatha says, stepping aside to let him shuffle past. She watches him go, head tilting a little with fond exasperation.

Then her gaze flicks to you and Rio again. Her expression softens.

“I’m gonna start on laundry,” she says, already turning toward the hall closet. “And probably take a broom to that science experiment growing under the dining table. Let me know if either of you wants more coffee.”

“Will do,” Rio says. “We’ll hold down the couch.”

Agatha just smirks, brushing a hand through her curls as she disappears from view, her voice echoing faintly, already half lost to the rhythm of the house waking up.

It’s quieter now, the stillness returning. The morning light spills across the living room floor in long, dappled streaks. Somewhere down the hall, Nicky starts humming to himself, the sink sputtering to life.

Rio exhales slowly, then shifts beside you, her thigh pressing lightly against yours. “She always goes straight into chores,” she murmurs. “Like if she stays still too long, something might fall apart.”

You glance toward the hallway, the sound of Agatha moving muffled but constant - drawers opening, a laundry basket thunking gently to the floor.

“She’s holding a lot,” you say quietly.

Rio nods, then turns her head to look at you fully. Her eyes are warm, thoughtful. “That’s why I’m glad you offered to help this weekend. It’s not just about Nicky.”

Your brows lift slightly.

“She gets so caught up in holding everything together,” Rio goes on. “I think she forgets she doesn’t have to do it alone.”

You’re quiet for a moment, letting the weight of that settle.

“I meant it,” you say finally. “I want to help. However I can.”

Rio smiles at that, really smiles, and reaches over to take your hand, her fingers lacing with yours. “Good. Because I was thinking…if Nicky’s with his grandparents for part of Saturday, maybe you and I could have a little time. Just us.”

Your heart stutters a little.

“Like a date?” you ask, surprised by how soft your voice sounds.

She nods, thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Yeah. A proper one. Maybe not fancy, just...something that feels like ours. Between the two of us.”

You squeeze her hand. “I’d really like that.”

She leans in and kisses your cheek, lingering just a second longer than expected. When she pulls back, her smile is softer, more private.

“Then it’s a plan.”

From down the hall, you hear Agatha muttering something about who puts crayons in their pockets , followed by the unmistakable clatter of a dropped laundry basket. You both laugh quietly, still holding hands.

It’s early Friday morning, the kind of quiet that only exists just before the world fully wakes. You’re buried in the covers, still warm from sleep, when the bed shifts beside you.

Agatha’s already dressed - dark jeans, a dark fitted jacket, boots she’s lacing quickly by the edge of the bed. Her hair’s still damp from the shower, curling at her collar. In the soft morning light, she looks impossibly put together for this hour, though there’s a flicker of reluctance in her movements.

Rio stirs beside you, still curled into your side. “Mmm. Don’t go.”

Agatha leans over and kisses her forehead, then yours, lingering just long enough to make your chest ache. “I’ll be back Sunday night,” she murmurs. “Try not to burn the house down.”

You crack a smile. “No promises.”

She brushes a thumb along your cheek, then straightens and glances toward the hallway. “Nicky’s up already. He wanted to say goodbye before school.”

You nod, still blinking the sleep from your eyes. A moment later, Nicky pads into the room in his socks and wrinkled Spider Man pyjamas. Agatha crouches to hug him tightly, murmuring something into his hair. He clings to her for a few seconds longer than usual, then pulls back and wipes his nose on his sleeve.

“Behave for me,” she says gently, smoothing his hair. “And be good for granny and grandpa tomorrow, okay?”

“I will,” he promises, eyes bright. Then he scampers off, and Agatha exhales quietly.

She grabs her bag from the doorway, then turns back for one last look - at you, Rio, the tangle of blankets and shared warmth. Her expression softens, fond and full.

“Love you,” she says.

“Love you,” Rio echoes, voice raspy.

“Lov-I-miss you already,” you say, stumbling over your words.

Then she’s gone, the soft click of the front door behind her, the house settling into stillness again.

Rio sighs and flops onto her back, reaching for your hand beneath the covers. “So,” she says. “Just us.”

You turn toward her, noses nearly touching. “You, me, and the tiny goblin.”

She groans dramatically and pulls a pillow over her face. “I don’t wanna get up yet!”

You laugh, tugging the pillow away and nudging her side.

The house feels different without Agatha.

It’s not bad, not at all, just strange. Like the lighting shifted a notch too cool. Like the rhythm you’ve all built together stumbled slightly since she the previous morning and hasn’t quite found its footing again.

You wake slowly in the soft sprawl of their bed, warm under the blankets, the room still dim and quiet. Rio is curled beside you, one arm flung across your waist, her dark hair mussed from sleep, her lips parted with the faintest snore. She looks younger in sleep, all her sharpness softened, the edges blurred.

You don’t want to move.

But she stirs not long after, sighs, and lazily tugs you in tighter without opening her eyes. “Mornin’,” she murmurs, her voice hoarse and low and still full of dreams. “Still weird without her?”

You nod, brushing your fingers through her hair. “Yeah. I keep listening for her getting up before us. Humming something weird. Telling us to get out of bed like we’re late for school.”

Rio smiles faintly. “I hate how much I miss her already.”

There’s something a little fragile in that honesty, and you press a kiss to her forehead before saying, “We’ll keep each other company, yeah?”

That earns you a crooked grin. “That sounds dangerously like a proposition.”

“Maybe it is.”

She cracks one eye open. “We’ve been awake for three minutes.”

You shrug, grinning. “I’m efficient.”

Rio doesn’t laugh, she attacks.

You shriek, caught entirely off guard as she rolls you under her, fingers immediately finding your sides, wickedly tickling. “Efficient,” she mimics in a dramatic tone. “This woman thinks she can seduce me without suffering the consequences of her hubris-”

You’re breathless, gasping, laughing too hard to fight back. “Okay! Okay, stop-!”

She only stops to kiss you. And it’s sudden, yes, but melts quickly into something slow and warm. Her fingers slide up under the shirt you borrowed - hers, still faintly smelling like her cologne. You sigh into her mouth, hands finding her hips, her waist, her back.

The kiss deepens. Grows quieter.

The world narrows to the press of her thigh between yours, the weight of her chest against yours, the way she sighs a little when your fingers tangle in her hair.

But even in the softness, there’s that missing thread. That space where Agatha usually would be - warm hands joining in, her amused voice telling you both to settle down, or don’t, or shift over and make room.

Rio seems to feel it too. She leans back just enough to rest her forehead against yours, her breath warm against your lips.

“We’ll be alright,” she says softly. “But I can’t wait for her to come home.”

You nod, swallowing gently. “Me too.”

Then she lifts her head again and grins. “In the meantime…think we can get away with staying in bed until I need to leave to drop Nicky off?”

You arch a brow. “What do you have in mind?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she says, sliding down to kiss your neck. “Something.”

The warmth of Rio’s body presses against yours, breaths mingling as your lips part reluctantly. You’d been tangled up in quiet kisses, the world narrowing to just the two of you, but the distant patter of little feet downstairs pulls you back to reality.

Rio smirks, fingers brushing your hair back from your face. “Sounds like someone’s up and about.”

You sigh, eyes half lidded but smiling. “Yeah, no chance we’re staying in bed much longer.”

Reluctantly, you disentangle and head downstairs together. You flick on the kitchen light, the familiar scent of morning filling the room. Rio starts filling the kettle with water while you crouch beside Nicky, who’s already busily packing his bag for the night with his grandparents. He’s carefully stuffing in his favourite book, a couple of snacks, and a small toy car.

“Don’t forget your toothbrush, champ,” you remind him, handing over the small case.

Nicky grins, popping it in with a flourish. “Ready for my sleepover!”

Rio folds a tiny jacket and places it gently on top of the bag. “They’ll take good care of you, little dude. And we’ll have the house to ourselves for the night.”

You glance at Rio, raising an eyebrow. “Speaking of the night…any more clues about this date? I’m thinking dinner somewhere nice, maybe with a view?”

Her eyes twinkle with mischief. “You’re getting warmer.”

Nicky suddenly yells from the bathroom, “I’m ready! Can you come help me with my stuffies?”

You share a quick smile with Rio before heading over, the quiet warmth of the morning lingering between you. Agatha’s absence feels strange, but there’s a softness in the way Rio’s hand finds yours as you both step into the busy day ahead.

The soft hum of the bathroom fan mixes with the clink of makeup brushes and the rustle of fabric as you and Rio get ready. You’re sprawled on the bed, flipping through a magazine, but your eyes keep darting toward her. She’s taking her time, careful with each curl and swipe of lipstick.

“So,” you say, crossing your arms with mock suspicion, “can you really not tell me what we’re doing tonight? Or is this all just elaborate torture?”

Rio grins, sliding the compact shut and setting it aside. “If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise anymore, would it?”

You narrow your eyes. “You’re impossible.”

She shrugs, pulling on a jacket. “Just trust me. You’ll like it.”

Your phone buzzes, and you grin when you see it’s Agatha calling. You answer quickly, and her bright face fills the screen.

“Hey!” Rio calls from across the room, waving. “What are you two up to, my love?”

Agatha laughs softly. “Swamped with meetings, as usual. But I wanted to check in. How’s my girls’ day going?”

Rio smirks, tossing her jacket on the bed. “Just dropped Nicky off at my parents’. The house feels weirdly quiet without you.”

You lean in, settling beside Rio on the bed. “Yeah, we’re getting ready for some mysterious date night. Rio won’t spill any details.”

Agatha quirks an eyebrow. “Ooh, mysterious, huh? Are you two behaving yourselves without me?”

Rio grins slyly. “Mostly. No wild shenanigans. Yet.”

Agatha’s eyes sparkle as she teases, “So, how do my girls look? Fancy or just ‘trying-not-to-ruin-the-surprise’?”

Rio’s face softens. She snatches the phone from you and holds it up, angling the camera. “Check out our beautiful girlfriend,” she says with a proud smile, nodding toward you.

Agatha’s face melts into a warm smile. “Oh wow, you look delicious. Honestly, it’s almost unfair.”

You flush, reaching for the phone to turn it back on yourself. “Stop it, you’re embarrassing me.”

Agatha chuckles. “Good. Just how I like it. Makes me miss being there with you both.”

Rio chuckles, brushing a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “Don’t worry, we’re keeping your spot warm.”

You sigh happily. “Can’t wait to have you back.”

Agatha’s smile lingers. “Soon, very soon.”

You all linger on the screen a moment longer, the warmth between you a quiet promise.

Agatha’s expression shifts to something a little more serious. “I’m really busy with meetings today, but I miss you both so much. I’m excited to get home on Sunday. And is it still okay if you pick me up from the airport?”

Rio nods. “Absolutely. We’ll be there.”

“Thanks, love. I’ve gotta shoot off, but I’ll talk to you later,” Agatha says, then blows a kiss before ending the call.

Rio hands the phone back, and you both share a quiet moment.

“So,” you say, nudging her playfully, “can you really not tell me what we’re doing tonight?”

Rio grins mischievously. “Not a chance.”

You shake your head, laughing. “Okay, okay. I’ll let you have your secrets…for now.”

With a final check in the mirror, Rio grabs her bag and extends a hand. “Ready?”

You take it, heart fluttering just a little. “Absolutely.”

You don’t know where you’re going until Rio pulls off the coastal road and into a small, tucked away lot beside a quiet restaurant. It’s one of those places with no sign on the outside, just warm lights in the windows and a handful of locals lingering near the entrance with wine glasses in hand.

“Wait,” you say, raising an eyebrow as she puts the car in park. “You brought me to a secret food spot? How very Rio of you.”

She grins as she shuts off the engine. “I figured you deserved something a little off the map. Low light, good wine, pasta that'll ruin you for all other pasta - what’s not to love?”

“You forgot the mysterious local charm and possibly haunted ambiance.”

“That’s just a bonus.”

She circles around and opens your door with a flourish and a mock bow. “Your table awaits, my hot date.”

You slip your fingers into hers, letting her help you out of the car. “You’re really laying it on thick tonight.”

“Only because it’s working.”

The restaurant is all warm wood and candlelight, the air thick with the scent of garlic, basil, and lemon butter. The kind of place that feels like a secret, even though it’s probably been around forever. You’re led to a small table by a window where the sea glints in the distance, just beyond the trees. The sun’s almost down, casting everything in soft gold.

Rio’s hand brushes yours as you sit. Her fingers linger, warm and gentle. “You look beautiful, by the way.”

You glance at her, bashful but unable to stop your smile. “So do you.”

“You always say that like you’re surprised.”

“I always am .”

She laughs, leaning back like she’s already won. “That’s the goal.”

You let the moment stretch before reaching for your menu. Rio waits a beat, then peeks over the top of hers.

“You’re thinking about getting the risotto, aren’t you?”

You look up at her, squinting. “How do you do that?”

She shrugs, that cocky grin spreading. “Because every time you say, ‘I’m gonna try something new tonight,’ you end up picking the dish with the most cheese.”

You glance down at the menu again. “Okay, but it does sound incredible.”

“Then get it. I’m getting the clams. I want to see your face when you try mine.”

“You’re awfully confident.”

She leans forward, voice low and teasing. “I’m dating you, aren’t I?”

You roll your eyes, but your foot brushes hers under the table, soft and deliberate. Rio smiles, and there’s something behind it - affection layered beneath the flirtation.

When the food arrives, the world shrinks down to the glow of your table - candlelight, clinking glasses, laughter. You talk about Nicky, about work, about a podcast Rio can’t stop listening to. She reaches for your hand between bites, thumb brushing the back of your knuckles, holding you in the rhythm of the night.

At one point, she leans across the table and kisses you, just a gentle press of her mouth to yours, like it’s instinct. You can still taste the wine on her lips when she pulls back.

“I like this,” she says softly.

You squeeze her hand. “Me too.”

Later, when you ask what’s next, Rio raises an eyebrow.

“Can’t you just enjoy the moment?”

“No. I’m very nosy.”

“You’re very something,” she mutters into her wine.

“ Rio. ”

She drags it out just long enough to make you laugh, then leans in, voice low.

“Okay, fine. I’ll give you a hint. It involves water. Possibly sand. Maybe a little walking to work off all that cheese you insisted on ordering.”

Your eyes light up. “A beach walk?”

“ Maybe. Or maybe we’re going swimming.”

“In the dark ?”

She lifts a shoulder. “Could be romantic.”

“Could be jellyfish.”

“Live a little.”

You’re still laughing as she signs the bill, brushing her hand along your thigh beneath the table, fingers pressing just enough to say I'm here, I'm yours.

The beach is quiet by the time you arrive, the horizon melting into a deep indigo sky. The last streaks of sunset are barely clinging to the clouds, casting a dim orange glow across the sand. The ocean is all hush and rhythm, a steady heartbeat rolling in and out.

Rio kicks off her shoes the moment you step out of the car, tugging your hand. “Come on. Sand therapy. Very underrated.”

You follow, shoes in hand, toes curling into the warm remnants of the day’s heat. She walks ahead just enough to tug you along by your fingers, glancing back every few steps to make sure you’re still with her. There’s a breeze, gentle and salt tinged, brushing through her dark hair.

“This feels illegal,” you joke, nudging her with your elbow as you catch up.

“What, walking on the beach after dinner?”

“No. Looking this good while doing it.”

Rio laughs, a soft, genuine sound that carries on the breeze. “Flatterer.”

“Only when you deserve it.”

She stops abruptly and tugs you close by the waist, her other hand coming up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “You say that like I don’t always deserve it.”

You open your mouth for a snarky reply, but she kisses you before you get the chance. Soft at first. Unhurried. The kind of kiss that soaks into your skin and lingers in the air long after it ends. Her thumb traces your cheek as she pulls back, eyes searching yours in the low light.

“Better,” she murmurs.

You smile, leaning into her touch. “I think you just wanted to shut me up.”

“Maybe. But it worked.”

You keep walking, side by side now. The waves catch the moonlight, glittering. You talk about nothing for a while - your favorite beach snacks as a kid, the weirdest sea creature you’ve ever seen, how Agatha always pretends she’s not scared of seaweed but absolutely is.

“She’s going to be so smug we did something romantic without her,” Rio says, grinning as she picks up a flat stone and skips it into the tide.

“She’ll never let us live it down.”

“She’ll make us reenact it in front of her. With notes.”

You laugh, and she catches your hand again, swinging it lazily between you both.

Rio slows, stopping just short of the waterline. The tide rushes in, lapping at her ankles before receding, foaming. She reaches into her pocket, tugging out her phone.

“Okay,” she announces, already fiddling with the settings. “Now we take the corny couple photo.”

You blink. “You’re joking.”

“Nope. Timer mode. Backlit by the moon. We’ll make Agatha cry.”

You snort. “Is that the goal?”

She glances at you over her shoulder, eyes glinting. “Always.”

You laugh, but she steps toward you, shoving the phone into the sand at the right angle, the screen facing out. “Shut up,” she says, voice soft but teasing. “And come pretend to be in love with me.”

You pause. “Pretend?”

Rio doesn’t answer - not out loud. She just looks at you, gaze flicking between your eyes and your mouth. A beat too long. A little too honest.

You step in close, arms curling around her waist. “This is a lot of effort for pretend,” you murmur.

Rio’s fingers slide up your back, slow and deliberate. “I’m method,” she whispers, just as the countdown starts ticking down.

Three…two…

She tilts her face toward yours.

One.

The photo catches the moment just before your lips touch, your smile half formed, her nose brushing yours, her hand cupping the back of your neck. The next kiss is real. Lingering. No need for pretending at all.

You stay close when it ends, noses touching, breath shared.

Rio pulls away just enough to reach for her phone, glancing at the photo. “That’s the one,” she says, voice a little rougher than before. She sends it off with a few taps. “Agatha’s gonna melt.”

You smile faintly. “Pretend, huh?”

Rio tucks the phone away. Doesn’t meet your eyes right away.

The breeze lifts her hair and she says, “Well, you’re good at it too.”

You lean in again, catching her mouth in another kiss. This one is slower. Less teasing. Like maybe you're both toeing the edge of something neither of you is quite brave enough to say yet.

The tide pulls in again, brushing your feet. You both stay rooted.

Neither of you lets go.

The house is quiet when you get back. Too quiet, in the way that reminds you something, or someone, is missing. No cartoons from the other room. No Agatha humming in the kitchen. Just you, Rio, and the hush of a night that still feels like it’s holding its breath.

Rio doesn’t let go of your hand once the door’s shut. She turns into you instead, her body warm from the walk, eyes lit up with something playful.

“You’ve got sand everywhere,” she says, brushing a finger down your arm. “That’s disgusting.”

You grin. “Whose idea was it to roll around like idiots?”

“Mine, obviously,” she says, pulling you closer. “But you’re the one who practically tackled me. Don’t act innocent.”

“I didn’t hear you complaining.”

“I was trying not to suffocate in your mouth, babe.”

And then she kisses you again. Slow. Deep. Her hands slide to your hips and grip like she’s been waiting all day for this. You melt into it, into her. The teasing fades into something headier, hungrier. Your lips part under hers and her tongue slips inside with easy familiarity, drawing out a low, involuntary noise from your throat.

She breaks away with a smirk. “Shower.”

You barely make it to the bathroom. Clothes get tugged off between kisses, stumbled steps, shared breathless laughter. The mirror fogs fast as you step into the shower, but the heat between you two is hotter than the steam.

Rio presses you back against the tile, her hands cupping your jaw as she kisses you again - this time deeper, slower, like she wants to learn your mouth all over again. The water cascades down your bodies, but you barely notice it.

Her hands start to wander. Down your sides, your waist, your thighs. She kisses her way along your neck, pausing to suck at a spot just below your ear that makes your knees give a little. You gasp when her teeth graze your skin.

“You always react right there,” she murmurs, lips brushing the sensitive spot. “Every time.”

She drops to her knees with water soaking her hair, slicking it down her back. Her eyes drag up your body like she’s trying to memorize you. Her hands are warm, steady on your hips as she mouths at your inner thigh, deliberately slow, teasing.

“You gonna let me make you feel good?” she asks softly, voice muffled as she presses a kiss higher. “Let me take care of you?”

You nod, words failing. And she doesn’t waste another second.

The first drag of her tongue makes your whole body jolt. You brace yourself against the tile as her mouth works you open with practiced skill, one hand still gripping your hip, the other coaxing your legs wider. Her tongue is unrelenting - slow at first, then fast, then slow again. She knows exactly what you need, and she gives it without asking. You cry out as her fingers join her mouth, and she groans like she feels your pleasure in her chest.

“Fuck, you taste so good,” she whispers against you. “You’re shaking for me already.”

You’re close, too close, and she knows it. Her other hand slides up to press flat against your stomach as she works you through it. The climax crashes over you with a choked-off moan, your hips bucking forward into her mouth, your body trembling under her hold.

She stays there, soft and lazy licks until you're gasping and twitching. Only when you tug gently at her shoulder does she rise again, kissing her way up your stomach, your chest, your throat.

When she reaches your lips again, you taste yourself on her tongue.

“Your turn,” you manage to whisper.

You switch places fast. Now she’s the one with her back to the tile, her breath catching as your fingers trace over her hips. You sink to your knees, grinning when she lets out a shaky laugh.

“Don’t tease,” she warns, voice thick and low.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

You kiss her inner thigh first, just to hear her curse. Then again, higher. You’re greedy for her, hands and mouth claiming her in turns, until her head knocks back against the wall with a quiet thud. She’s louder than you - always is - and it’s so fucking hot the way she moans your name when she falls apart, her fingers tangled tight in your hair, legs trembling around you.

By the time you’re rinsed off and wrapped in towels, everything feels soft and slow again. She pulls you into bed with damp hair and warm limbs and presses one last kiss to your shoulder before you both drift there together.

You reach for your phone and scroll to Agatha’s message.

Hope you two are having fun tonight. I miss you. Can’t wait to be home.

“She’s gonna hate how much we enjoyed ourselves,” Rio says with a sleepy grin.

“She’ll get over it the second she’s in your arms.”

Rio turns her head, eyes fluttering shut. “In our arms.”

You press a kiss to her forehead. “Yeah. Ours.”

The next day rolls in gently, sunlight spilling through the windows and warming the hardwood floors. You wake to the distant thud of the front door closing and the rustle of movement downstairs. A few moments later, the unmistakable sound of Nicky’s voice echoing up the staircase, full of energy and unfiltered excitement.

Rio’s already brought him home.

You pull on something soft and wander down to find them in the kitchen. Nicky’s recounting every detail of his time with his grandparents - something about pancakes and a mysterious bug he found in the garden. His backpack lies half open on the floor, already spilling drawings and half-eaten snacks. Rio stands at the counter, laughing softly as she pulls a juice box from the fridge for him.

“He told me six different stories before we left their driveway,” she says as you step in, her eyes warm when they meet yours. “Didn’t stop talking the whole ride home.”

“Did you miss me?” Nicky crows, lunging at you with a dramatic hug.

You catch him easily, ruffling his hair as he climbs halfway into your lap and curling into you. “Of course I did, kid. The house was way too quiet without you.”

He grins, then bolts off again, already pulling out a wooden spoon and a blanket to transform into his usual costumed hero. You settle on the edge of the couch, barely getting comfortable before you’re cast as the dragon he must defeat.

“You have to roar louder,” he insists, cape flapping as he climbs the ottoman like it’s a mountain. “Louder!”

Rio passes through again, phone to her ear, her voice softer now - warm, familiar, but indistinct. You don’t hear who she’s talking to, just her little laugh and a quiet, “Mhm. I’ll tell her.” Then she’s tucking the phone away and looking at you.

“You two ready to head to the airport?”

Nicky gasps, wooden spoon clattering to the floor. “We’re getting Mama?!”

“You bet we are.”

The car ride to the airport is a flurry of questions and anticipation. Nicky talks a mile a minute from the back seat, legs swinging as he sits with a colouring book in his lap but doesn’t use it once. He's too busy wondering if Mama will look different, if her suitcase will be heavy, if she'll remember the special handshake he made up on Thursday.

“She’s only been gone two days, buddy,” Rio says, glancing at him in the rearview mirror with a smile.

“Yeah, but maybe she grew a beard. Like a disguise beard.”

You chuckle and catch Rio’s eyes, warm with affection. “If she did, we’ll still recognize her.”

“Speak for yourself,” Rio deadpans. “I’m not kissing some bearded woman at Arrivals.”

Nicky erupts into giggles, delighted.

You pull up just as the terminal crowd thickens. Rio parks, unbuckles, and helps Nicky out while you swing the passenger door shut. The automatic doors whoosh open, and there she is, Agatha, just past the sliding glass, a wheeled suitcase trailing behind her, her coat folded over one arm.

She spots you instantly.

“Mama!” Nicky breaks into a sprint across the tiled floor, arms open, yelling.

Agatha’s smile is radiant. She crouches just in time to catch him, lifting him up with a laugh that’s soft and full of relief. “There’s my boy! Oh, you got taller. Didn’t I tell you to stop growing?”

“You were gone forever!” he insists, arms around her neck.

“I missed you so much,” she murmurs into his hair, swaying a little. Then she glances over his shoulder, eyes finding Rio and you waiting just a few steps behind.

Rio grins and closes the distance. “Hey, you,” she says, voice thick with something gentle and affectionate.

“Hey, my love,” Agatha replies, leaning up for a kiss. It’s slow, unhurried, and warm. Familiar.

Then her gaze shifts to you, and her expression softens even more. “You look beautiful,” she says.

You step into her open arm, the one not still clinging to Nicky, and she draws you in for a kiss too, a kiss that feels like both hello and thank you. There’s something soft in the way she touches your face after, like she’s really seeing you.

“Let’s get you home,” Rio murmurs, nudging her shoulder with her own. “You must be exhausted.”

“More like over caffeinated and sick of hotel carpet,” Agatha laughs, grabbing the handle of her bag. “But so happy to be back.”

Back in the car, Agatha leans into Rio in the driver’s seat, her fingers brushing yours between the seats. Nicky chatters from beside you, animated, barely pausing for breath.

“So, how bad was it?” Rio asks, her hand on the gearshift.

Agatha exhales. “Busy. Swamped. Everyone needed something. But it's done. And I’m so glad it’s done.”

She turns to you again. “I can’t wait to hear about your date. I’ve been thinking about you both all weekend.”

You squeeze her fingers gently. “We’ll tell you everything.”

“Everything?” she teases.

“Maybe not in front of your son,” Rio says, grinning.

The house feels fuller the moment they step through the door. Agatha’s suitcase is barely set down before Nicky is tugging her toward the living room, jabbering about the drawings he made at his grandparents’ house. She obliges with a tired smile and lets him spread them out on the rug, each picture accompanied by a story she listens to like it’s the most important thing in the world.

Rio brushes past you in the kitchen, flicking the kettle on, mouthing, “Tea?” and you nod, watching the scene unfold with a quiet fondness. Agatha looks so soft there, cross legged beside Nicky, crayon masterpieces laid out like treasures. Her fingers keep brushing through his hair absentmindedly, like she still can’t believe he’s real.

Eventually, bedtime calls. Nicky stifles a yawn mid sentence and Agatha kisses his temple. “Okay, kiddo. Bath, teeth, then bed.”

He groans but obeys. “You have to read me a bedtime story,” he says to Agatha.

“I wouldn’t dream of skipping it,” she promises, ruffling his curls.

She disappears with him down the hall while you and Rio move around the kitchen, tidying dishes and pouring tea into mugs. When Agatha returns a while later, loosened hair and changed into one of Rio’s oversized shirts, the house feels still again. Comfortable.

You, Rio, and Agatha end up curled together on the couch - you in the middle, Agatha on your left, Rio on your right. There’s a silence that isn’t awkward, just warm, weighted with the comfort of being together again.

“So…” Agatha hums, her fingers grazing your thigh gently as she leans into the cushions. “Tell me everything. Where did you two sneak off to?”

Rio smirks, brushing her knee against yours. “Dinner. Beach. The usual romantic mischief.”

Agatha raises a brow. “Mischief, huh?”

“She made me walk barefoot on sand,” you say, feigning dramatics. “Real villain arc.”

“Wasn’t even that cold,” Rio adds, nudging you. “Besides, you looked cute when you squealed about seaweed.”

Agatha laughs softly, resting her chin in her hand as she watches the two of you. “I leave for one weekend and suddenly you're out there frolicking like teenagers.”

“She made me take a photo,” you say. “Said she was going to send it to you to make you melt.”

Rio lifts her chin. “Because she looked beautiful and I wanted my wife to see what her girlfriend looks like when she’s glowing.”

Agatha blinks once, then smiles, slow and deep. “She does glow with you,” she murmurs.

Your cheeks warm under the attention, and Agatha doesn't miss it. Her hand slips over yours, thumb brushing a slow circle into your skin. “So…was it just dinner and a beach walk?”

Rio grins. “There may have been a seductive shower involved.”

“May have?” Agatha echoes, amused. “You don’t sound sure.”

You open your mouth to answer but she leans closer, tilting her head to whisper near your ear, “Did my sweet girl turn the hot water all the way up and let my wife get her hands on her?”

Your breath catches.

Rio hums, clearly enjoying this. “She did. Practically melted.”

Agatha draws back enough to kiss your cheek, then your jaw. “You’ve been keeping her very warm in my absence,” she tells Rio, before turning her full attention to you. “And you ...have been making my wife fall harder.”

You don’t get a chance to answer, not before her lips press softly against yours.

On the other side, Rio’s hand smooths across your back, a silent echo of the same heat. You feel like you’re being enveloped - wrapped in them, in their attention, in their love.

“Show me,” Agatha whispers again, her voice reverent. “Show me how much you missed me.”

They lead you gently, hands never leaving yours. The low light in the bedroom is golden, the covers turned back like they’d prepared this moment for hours.

Agatha is first to press against your back, her arms wrapping around your waist as Rio moves in front, guiding you step by step until you reach the bed. Their movements are synchronized, like muscle memory - practiced, tender, certain.

Agatha's mouth finds the curve of your neck, lips brushing over your skin with reverence, like she's reintroducing herself to you, rediscovering every inch. "You smell like her," she murmurs softly against your skin, "but you're mine too, aren’t you?"

Rio grins as her hands settle on your hips, looking up at you with dark eyes that still sparkle with mischief. "You should’ve seen her, baby," she says to Agatha, even as her fingers slip under the hem of your shirt. "All flushed, all needy, barely keeping her hands to herself."

“She does get like that,” Agatha replies, biting lightly at your shoulder, her voice rich and amused, “especially when she thinks she’s in charge.”

You try to say something - a snappy retort, maybe - but Rio pulls your shirt up over your head, and Agatha is already unclasping your bra with the kind of ease that makes your head spin. The air feels thick, heavy with heat and longing.

They guide you back onto the bed - Agatha settling behind you again, lifting your hair to kiss along your spine, while Rio straddles your lap, her hands sliding up your thighs. "Tell us what you want," Rio whispers, nosing along your jaw. "We'll give you everything."

Agatha hums her agreement, her palms smoothing over your stomach, her voice warm against your ear. "We’ve waited all weekend to have you like this. To remind you that you belong to us.”

You can’t think straight with the way they touch you - how every glance, every brush of their lips or hands seems to steal your breath. You're practically naked before you even realize, their hands working in tandem, clothing falling away without fuss or ceremony.

Rio leans in first - her kiss playful and deep, tongue teasing, hands holding your face like she can't bear to let you look away. Her body is pressed against yours, warm and eager, grinding just enough to make you gasp.

Agatha keeps you grounded, her hands roaming, her mouth ghosting kisses along the slope of your shoulder, the nape of your neck. "That's it," she whispers, voice gone low. "Let us take care of you."

Together, they begin to ease you down onto the sheets - Agatha trailing fingers between your thighs, coaxing soft, desperate sounds from you as Rio kisses her way down your chest. There’s no rush between them, no need to hurry. Just a building fire, a simmering ache, and the overwhelming sensation of being adored from every angle.

Agatha’s kiss deepens, hungry now, her lips moving with intention. She shifts to straddle your thigh fully, her soft, soaked underwear dragging across your skin as she grinds down with a shaky breath. You can feel the heat of her, the slickness, and it makes your core ache again despite how recently you came.

“You feel what you do to me?” she whispers against your mouth. “You drive me fucking mad, sweetheart.”

Rio’s hands trace up your sides, her mouth finding your breast again, teeth scraping with just enough pressure to make you gasp. She watches the way your hips stutter up against Agatha’s thigh, the way your hands roam over her wife’s waist, the small of her back.

“You two look obscene right now,” Rio mutters, biting her lip as she watches Agatha ride your thigh in slow, wet circles. “I might die.”

Agatha laughs, breathless, eyes fluttering shut as she moves. “You’ll live. But you’ll help me come first.”

She doesn’t stop moving, doesn’t stop grinding. You can feel the tremble in her thighs, the restraint. You want to give her more, so you do. Your hand slips beneath the waistband of her panties, and she groans when your fingers find her slick folds.

“You little-oh-” Agatha shudders when your fingers slide through her wetness, and then inside her warmth. “You’ve learned a thing or two, haven’t you?”

You hum with pride, and Rio lifts her head to kiss your cheek, whispering, “She’s so good, huh?”

“The best,” Agatha manages, before breaking into a soft, wrecked moan as you curl your fingers just right inside her.

Agatha clutches at you like she needs to anchor herself, her forehead pressed to yours, panting as her muscles pulsate around your fingers. Her hips roll in time with you, slow and purposeful, building. You lock eyes - hers glassy with pleasure.

Then Rio shifts behind her, one hand sliding up Agatha’s back while the other slips beneath her to rub at her clit in sync with your thrusts.

“Fuck-fuck, yes-” Agatha gasps, her whole body shivering, caught between both of you.

She falls apart like that - on your fingers, with Rio’s hand stroking her through it. She comes hard, her mouth open, a strangled cry pressed into your neck as she pulses around you. And still, you hold her steady. You kiss her temple as she rides the waves out.

When she collapses against you, spent and breathless, Rio meets your eyes over her shoulder and grins.

“My turn.”

Agatha’s weight settles against your chest, her cheek pressed to your collarbone, a lazy smile playing on her lips as her breath slows. You run your fingers through her hair, your other hand still silky from where you’d touched her, and you don’t bother to wipe it away. She kissed you with it. You wear her like a memory.

Rio leans back on her knees at the foot of the bed, watching the two of you with open hunger. Her tank top has slid down one shoulder, her dark hair spilling freely around her face. She tucks it behind her ear, smiling crookedly.

“You look so proud of yourself,” she teases you, crawling up the bed, lips brushing your knee as she does. “Got her all wrecked and sweet.”

You grin, still breathless. “She asked so nicely.”

“Mmh.” Rio’s hand finds your ankle and drags slowly up your calf, deliberate and slow. “You gonna be that nice for me too?”

Agatha shifts, mumbling, “She better be. I wanna watch you fall apart next.”

That makes your stomach flutter.

Rio’s mouth grazes your thigh. “Can I take this off you, baby?”

You nod, already lifting your hips as she slides your underwear down and off with care. She doesn’t break eye contact as she does, the look in her eyes making you feel exposed and treasured at once. Worshipped.

She kisses the inside of your knee, your thigh, up and up, until her face is between your legs. But she pauses.

“You want my mouth?” she asks softly, one hand resting just over your pelvis.

“Yes,” you whisper. “Please.”

Rio smiles, and kisses you like it’s a secret.

Her tongue is soft at first, slow - like she’s teasing herself more than you. She moans into you, as though the taste alone is enough to make her tremble. Her hands hold your hips steady, firm and possessive. Agatha lifts herself onto her elbow beside you, her eyes dark and warm as she watches Rio devour you.

“God, look at her,” Agatha murmurs, kissing your cheek. “So good for us.”

Your hips roll. Rio’s tongue flicks just right, then flattens, then circles, and you gasp - your body alive with heat and sparks and pressure. She works you open with her mouth alone, letting the buildup be slow and sharp, her gaze flicking up to watch you crumble.

She doesn’t let up. You feel her hum in satisfaction against you when your thighs start to shake, and Agatha strokes your breast, your jaw, your hair, murmuring soft encouragements.

“That’s it, sweetheart…let go for her.”

You do.

Your release crashes through you in waves, long and intense, and Rio doesn’t stop until you’re whimpering, over sensitive and panting.

Only then does she crawl up your body, sliding against your skin like a storm winding down. She kisses you, letting you taste yourself, and Agatha kisses the other corner of your mouth.

You’re sandwiched in warmth. Rio smiles down at you.

“I fucking love making you blush like that.”

You nudge her playfully, still catching your breath. “You’re insufferable.”

Agatha sighs happily and curls her arm around both of you. “You’re both disgusting. And perfect.”

Rio is still kissing you, her mouth lazy and slow, when Agatha’s hand trails down the curve of her back.

“I think it’s your turn, baby,” she murmurs into Rio’s ear.

Rio smirks, but you can hear the shiver in her breath. “Yeah? You gonna give me what I want?”

Agatha laughs softly, kisses her shoulder. “Oh, I’m going to give you exactly what you need.”

She rises from the bed - naked, unhurried, soft in the light from the hallway - and moves to the drawer beside the bed. She pulls out the strap and harness like it’s the most natural thing in the world, checking the base and lube with practiced fingers before slipping it on.

You sit up slightly, watching. You’ve seen her wear it before, but never like this - never with Rio in her sights like prey. Rio, for all her bravado, flushes a deep red and lies back against the pillows, chest rising and falling quickly.

“On your hands and knees,” Agatha says, voice velvet smooth.

Rio obeys.

You can’t look away. Her back arches, her hair cascading to one side, her thighs already trembling just from the anticipation. Agatha kneels behind her and leans over her back, whispering something you don’t catch - something that makes Rio bite her lip and moan.

You inch closer, eyes wide, not wanting to miss a thing.

Agatha slicks her fingers between Rio’s legs first, slow and methodical, and Rio gasps into the sheets. “So wet already,” Agatha purrs. “You like being watched, huh?”

Rio doesn’t answer - can’t. She just nods frantically.

“Look at her,” Agatha says to you over her shoulder. “Isn’t she the prettiest little mess?”

You nod. You can barely breathe.

Agatha lines the strap up and pushes in slowly, inch by inch, until Rio’s back is arching, her breath hitching, her hands clutching the sheets.

“Oh my God ,” Rio whines, hips rocking back.

“That’s it,” Agatha coos, guiding her with both hands. “Take me. Take all of me.”

She sets a rhythm that’s deep and steady, every thrust pulling a sweet, broken sound from Rio’s throat. You watch in awe, your hand sliding down your own stomach, breath catching with every roll of Agatha’s hips.

Rio looks over her shoulder, eyes glassy. “You-fuck-she’s watching-”

“I know she is,” Agatha says, proud and possessive, one hand slipping up to Rio’s spine. “Let her see how good you take me.”

You moan softly. Rio’s eyes find yours, and for a moment the three of you are linked in heat and want and the kind of closeness that burns.

“I’m gonna-Ags, I’m-”

Agatha shushes her, wrapping an arm around her waist, angling her just right. “Let go, baby. Come for us.”

And she does. With a broken cry, trembling all over. Agatha holds her close, easing her through it, still buried deep, still whispering soft praises against her ear.

You reach for Rio’s hand as she slumps down, spent and shaking and beautiful.

Agatha leans over and kisses the two of you, softly. Sweetly.

“You’re both mine,” she says, low and adoring. “Every part of you.”

After a long, still moment, Agatha carefully slips out of Rio, removing the harness and setting it aside with quiet hands. She returns to the bed, lying down behind Rio and wrapping her arms around her waist.

You curl in from the front, pressing a kiss to Rio’s forehead, her skin damp with sweat and her cheeks still flushed. She's boneless between you both, eyelids fluttering closed.

“Hey,” you whisper, brushing some hair from her face. “Still with us?”

Rio hums. “Barely.”

Agatha chuckles softly, nuzzling into the nape of her neck. “You did so well, baby.”

“You ruined me,” she mumbles. “In a good way.”

There’s a brief shuffle as limbs tangle, and finally you settle with your head on Agatha’s chest, Rio draped against your back, her arm slung lazily around your waist.

The silence is thick and glowing.

Then Rio murmurs, “So...are we done with pretending?”

You can feel her smile without even turning.

Agatha chuckles. “Pretending?”

“I mean,” Rio continues, sleepily playful, “if it was pretend, I think we’re a little too good at it.”

You smile softly, cheeks heating again. “I love you too.”

Agatha kisses your hair and says gently, “Ah, I see. No more pretending.”

You press closer, heart tugging warm in your chest. “Say it. Please, say it.”

Rio laughs softly against your back, and Agatha grins. “I love you, Y/N. We love you.”

There's a beat. A quiet hush of breath and skin.

“I missed you both so much this weekend. I never want to go that long without you again.”

Rio stirs. “You’re not allowed.”

You look up at her, serious now. “We missed you too. The house felt too quiet.”

Agatha’s hand strokes gently along your back, her eyes crinkled with warmth. “Well. I’m home now. And I’m not going anywhere.”

The three of you fall into stillness, the kind that fills every space in your lungs with something calm and known. You stay like that for a while, breathing each other in, matching heartbeats.

When you finally start to drift, it’s with the soft weight of Rio's arm around you, Agatha’s heartbeat beneath your cheek, and the steady, silent knowledge that you’re right where you belong.

The late morning drifts in warm and slow, sunlight spilling in through the open windows and the smell of fresh coffee lingering in the air. You’re at the kitchen table with Agatha, feet tucked under your chair and a half eaten piece of toast balanced on your plate. She's perched beside you with her tablet in hand, scrolling through what looks like a colour coded spreadsheet that might actually contain more opinions than names.

“Okay,” she says, tapping the screen with the edge of her nail, “final run through. You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” you mutter, already bracing for chaos.

She hums, scrolling. “Alice, obviously. You’ve met. She’s promised not to interrogate you again, but I wouldn’t count on it.”

You grin. “I’ll bring backup wine for distraction.”

“Smart,” Agatha murmurs, tapping down. “Then there’s Lilia, my cousin. She’s brilliant, infuriating, and might show up in six inch heels just to prove she can chase toddlers in them.”

“Sounds terrifying.”

“She is,” Agatha says fondly. “And Jen, Rio’s not-quite-cousin. She’s sweet. Gets weepy when drunk. Don’t let her near the karaoke setup.”

You lean in a little, eyes scanning the list over her shoulder. Then you catch a name that makes you pause.

“Wanda,” you read aloud. “Who’s that?”

Agatha doesn't miss a beat. “Oh, just a friend.”

It’s easy. Offhand. Nothing in her tone suggests it’s anything more. But something in the way her eyes skip quickly to the next name, like smoothing over a wrinkle too fast, catches your attention.

You don’t push.

“Should I bring a dish?” you ask instead.

Agatha smiles, grateful for the shift. “You being here is enough.”

You swallow the flutter in your chest and make a note to double the snack tray anyway.

A little later, the house is a flurry of activity.

The dining room table has vanished under a pile of streamers, stickers, goodie bags, and wrapping paper. Nicky is in full superhero mode, racing through the hallway in a cape and mismatched socks. Agatha is on the phone trying to confirm the bounce house delivery, her other hand sorting napkins into colour coded stacks.

Rio, currently tangled in a pile of unwrapped gifts, pops her head up with a ribbon caught in her hair. “Why do we own three sets of glitter markers and zero tape?”

“Because tape is boring and glitter is chaos,” you say, handing her a fresh roll.

She winks. “Spoken like someone who belongs here.”

Rio stretches to her feet with a groan. “Okay, cake mission time. If I go alone, I’m coming back with three donuts and a pie.”

You grab your keys. “I’ll go with you. Someone has to stop you from flirting your way into fondant you didn’t pay for.”

Agatha looks up from her phone call just long enough to wave you both toward the door. “Please come back with a cake and not a date.”

“No promises,” Rio calls.

“Don’t let Nicky climb anything!” you shout back.

“I make no guarantees!” Agatha replies, already halfway through threatening the delivery guy with a Yelp review.

The drive is quiet at first - windows down, music low. Rio wears her sunglasses pushed up in her hair, one hand on the wheel, the other resting against the edge of the console as she hums along to a sultry indie track like she’s not even thinking about it.

It’s peaceful.

Until Rio breaks it.

“Let’s hope it’s not awkward with Wanda later.”

The name hangs in the air for a second too long.

You blink. “Wait. Why would it be awkward? I thought she was just a friend.”

That gets her. A beat of silence. Then, “Oh. Right.”

Her fingers tap once against the steering wheel before she sighs.

“Okay. So. Yeah. She is a friend. And was…sort of a thing . A long time ago. With both of us. Me and Agatha.”

You raise an eyebrow. Rio keeps her eyes on the road, but her voice softens.

“It wasn’t serious. Just fun. Casual. One of those blurry, kinda hot, kinda complicated things that burned out before anyone got hurt. She’s not part of our lives anymore like that.”

You nod, quiet. “Does she know that?”

Rio laughs under her breath. “If she doesn’t, she’s going to learn very fast. Trust me - this isn’t that kind of triangle.”

She glances at you, reading something in your silence.

“Hey,” she says gently. “I’m not stupid. I know how this could look. But you’re not a repeat. You’re not filler. We’re not trying to relive anything.”

You look at her.

“I know,” you say.

She exhales, relieved. “Good. Because the last thing I want is to mess this up.”

The words settle deep in your chest.

A moment later, Rio nudges your arm lightly. “Besides, you’re the one coming home with us.”

You glance out the window, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“Yeah,” you murmur. “I am.”