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it wasn’t that rio was jealous, no she wasn’t jealous. she was tired. she’d been collecting agatha’s little plaything presents for too long now. she couldn’t remember exactly when agatha started killing them, but years of her degradation had turned rio’s heart cold to it all. she had been angry at first, skin prickling with humiliation as she cleaned up agatha’s messes, staring into the cold eyes of another beautiful woman trapped in agatha’s web. rio had been jealous, but that wasn’t it anymore, it had twisted itself into something solid, cement blocks of regret and self-loathing that sat on her chest, deep in the pit of her stomach, binding her hands, weighing down her feet.
rio knew that agatha had fucked women before her and continued to fuck women after. honestly she couldn’t fault any of them for that, a second under agatha’s attention was like an eternity in the sunshine, bathing in the warmth of that light. the attention was reverent, to be truly recognised by her a form of devotion but agatha also burned with a malicious intensity, loved to take things just that inch too far. rio had only recently stopped watching, used every ounce of willpower she had to not dumbly stare, mouth dry as agatha’s head lulled in between another pretty things legs, working her over slowly until she was shaking and gasping and coming undone. it hadn’t been the ritualistic embarrassment that thrummed through her body every time, leaving her wet and guilty that had finally made her stop watching. it hadn’t been the aching that throbbed at her core, leaving her needy and on edge as she watched agatha do what she was best at, please and manipulate and destroy. it hadn’t even been the anger at the gentle touch of agatha wiping away one of her playthings tears, whispering what a good girl she was whilst she brought her over the edge again for the fourth time that night. it was agatha’s attention that had made her sick, rio had been burned under the recognition of her gaze.
agatha knew rio was watching, of course she knew. it had been over a century of rio watching her, she hadn’t stopped watching since they first met.
this one had pretty brown eyes, not dark or enchanting enough to ever mimic the intoxicating intensity of deaths, but pretty enough that the stab of sentimentality in agatha’s chest made her wetter than she’d been in years, made her meaner that she’d felt in a while.
hand tangling in brown eyes hair she tugged, forcing her head back to stare at them in the mirror, watching herself thrust three fingers into brown eyes from behind, hard and rough. agatha let out a low, condescending chuckle at the girls whimpers. brown eyes was limp with pleasure against agatha, held up by agatha’s fingers pulling against her hair. dark lashes low, blue eyes aloof and glazed with pleasure agatha was lost in the heat of her performance, the heat of memory, the heat of the thought of death, longing and pained. rio was entranced, ashamed of the way her body burnt, ashamed of the tenderness that clawed at her heart even after all of agatha’s spiteful retributions, ashamed of the way she’d rather be punished by agatha than ignored.
“hmmm you like that baby?” agatha asked voice gravelly. “you like watching don’t you” she laughed, long fingers gripping at the root of brown eyes scalp. “god are you not embarrassed? so fucking desperate. still so desperate for me”. rio’s face flushed, breath hitched at the sudden intensity of agatha’s attention. it did embarrass her, agatha would never watch rio like this, would go for the kill before someone could even think to touch rio, to please her the way only agatha did. it was conflicting, the embarrassment against the strange relief of letting agatha take whatever she wants, letting her lose it the way she so deserved. agatha’s sudden recognition of her presence overwhelmed her, finally the breaking of the fourth wall between them after all of the bodies. “so pathetic, wet and waiting. still waiting for me even after all this”.
that had been the last one rio had watched, the burning of agatha’s attention making her too tired, the familiar weight burrowing deeper into her chest. she had watched brown eyes cum, watched agatha ride her face. she thought watching agatha kill her would make her feel better, thought that a reminder of agatha’s casual cruelty would soften the cement in her chest. it didn’t. agatha shushed brown eyes, gentle and reassuring as she drained her power and blood spluttered from her neck, splashing agatha’s pretty porcelain skin. another wave of jealousy hardened into something more severe in rio’s chest, an unwanted reminder of another way agatha and rio could never be together. agatha’s hands around her neck could fix this, she thinks. agatha spilling rio’s blood with her pretty fingers is the retribution they need, thinks fading away under agatha’s cold gaze would soften her again. god, rio wants agatha to hurt her, to fuck her and leave her for dead, to show agatha how sorry she is, to let agatha have her instead.
so rio hadn’t seen how agatha had fucked this new one, green eyes this time. hadn’t seen if agatha had taken her power, slit her throat or broke her neck. agatha knew rio hadn’t been watching, could feel that she wasn’t there. maybe thats why this one was messier than the others.
agatha was always gone before rio could collect, but she never left them like this. a small smile tugged at rio’s lips, vindicated at her ability to get a rise out of agatha.
blood painted the walls, green eyes stared wide, cold, and innocent, another lamb successfully slaughtered. agatha was cruel, but this level of destruction wasn’t her usual M.O. she was far too selfish to usually care for this level of mindless violence, too lazy to deliberately make a mess, caring more for the swift acquisition of power than the chaos of this type of brutality. death wasn’t shocked by much, especially not from agatha, had seen her in every type of mood, but this was the first time agatha had left one of them like this. this was the first time agatha had left one of her gifts a scene of rage, a petulant cry for attention rather than her usual scenes of quiet, calm provocation and punishment.
rio knew agatha was angry, annoyed by her loss of control over rio, the loss of rio’s omnipresent longing. her chest tightens at the sight of the red “miss me?” painted over the wall, the blood dark and thick, congealed drips stuck to the peeling paint.
rio had felt this before, agatha pushed and pulled, punishing rio only to get annoyed when she finally broke her. she ignored rio, made her trail behind her like a good puppy nipping at agatha’s heels, only to turn around and kick her when rio finally stopped keeping up. rio was tired.
and then agatha stopped. death had never gone this long without a gift from agatha harkness, not since knowing her. rio went back to watching her, she loved being with agatha like this, without the thick guilt that choked rio when they were together, without the grief that made agatha vicious.
when her next gift finally arrived rio was relieved, the silence between them had been suffocating her. the fear that agatha was truly done with her, had forgotten her, moved on had gnawed away at her skull, making her manic and unpredictable. exhausted by her own self-loathing rio didn’t watch agatha fuck this one either. she should’ve known that would piss agatha off.
she hears agatha before she sees her, deep, shaky breaths echoing through the room betray her desperate portrayal of calculated, collected level headedness.
rio pays no notice to the body sprawled across the floor between them, hypnotised by agatha’s presence.
“you don’t usually stick around” rio spieled dumbly, mouth moving faster than her brain.
agatha narrowed her eyes and smirked, trying to figure out if that was an intentional dig or not.
“thought you probably missed me” she smirked, voice low and teasing. she closed the space between them, stepping over the body to stalk towards rio, predatory grin flashing her sharp white teeth.
“you stopped watching” agatha whispered, voice low and painfully genuine. rio laughed, dry and humourless, leave it to agatha to be annoyed that rio had stopped stalking her. long fingers stroked the skin of rio’s temples, she hated the way her body betrayed her, leaning into agatha’s touch. taking a moment to appreciate the the gentle thrum of rio’s pulse beneath her agatha’s hands send chills through rio’s body. rio wonders how long ago her fingers had been inside the girl on the floor. moments of silence pass before she realises it’s her turn to talk.
“this is pathetic, agatha” she chokes, suddenly flushed with annoyance at her audacity, feeling less forgiving face to face.
“i’m pathetic?” she scoffs dramatically, fingers wandering rio’s jaw, nails scratching possessively at the nape of her neck. “why did you stop watching?” agatha asks, voice laced with a nostalgic softness that makes rio queasy, makes her head spin.
agatha was enamoured with rio like this, dark eyes wild and frantic, pulse thrumming in her ears, struggling to string a sentence together; a deer caught in agatha’s headlights. ultimately, agatha didn’t care what it took to get rio like this, would do anything to have rio lost in her like this, to keep rio lost in her. agatha didn’t care if it took a thousand dead things, didn’t care if she had to be cruel, didn’t care if she had to coax, goad or cheat, she’d do anything so rio wouldn’t forget, would do anything to keep her.
“stop being so quiet i asked you a question” agatha spits, touch suddenly no longer gentle.
“fuck you. why do you think i stopped watching?” rio responded, abruptly indignant and prideful, unwilling to give agatha what she wants.
“aw baby” rio scowls at agatha’s casual use of the pet name, ruffled by her shameless manipulations. “its okay to be jealous” agatha coos, sharp smile tugging at her face.
“i’m not jealous, agatha” rio says, proud of herself for keeping her voice steady. agatha just pouts, head lulled to the side with that condescending look that tells rio she thinks different, lets her know she doesn’t believe her. the knowing doubt vexes rio, pushes her to let go. “i stopped watching because its always too much with you, agatha. you let everything you touch consume you, and you take it too far, and it was too much. i was fucking tired, okay?” rio wasn’t even sure if she really believed that, thought that actually maybe agatha could never take it far enough, could never give her what she really deserved.
the grief between them made the air heavy, made agatha feel cold.
“i was being nice, baby. i was doing you a favour. i knew you wouldn’t let anyone else touch you, know how needy you get. thought i’d give you some encouragement” agatha bites, voice laced with honey. ears burning with embarrassment rio swallows, throat dry. the truth ran hot through her body, she was hopelessly devoted, didn’t need anyone else, didn’t care to want anything that wasn’t agatha. rio was awestruck by agatha’s ability to play her in the palm of her hand, able to reduce death to nothing, to make her feel like some inexperienced schoolgirl. rio doesn’t flinch when agatha’s hand tightens around her neck, squeezing in the way that made rio dizzy, made her throb. “i know you liked watching me cum, i know it made you wet rio” agatha whispers, goading. the throbbing between rio’s legs and at her temple lets her know she’s losing control here, falling under agatha’s spell.
“watching you, it made me sad agatha” rio whispered, voice hoarse with both sincerity and the pressure over her throat. the loosening grip on her neck lets her know that she’s caught agatha off guard, blue eyes revealing that the mask between them has slipped, the sorrow of it all bared. agatha laughs, fake and bitter, her fingers stroking the skin of rio’s neck, the soft spot below her ear.
their initial kiss was chaste, agatha’s touch gentle and hesitant. rio deepened the kiss, tugging agatha closer, hands gripping at her hips hard enough to bruise. it was rio’s own wrecked moan that pulled her out of the trance of agatha’s mouth hot and lewd against hers. placing a hand on her chest rio slowly pushed back, pleased with the heavy rise and fall of agatha’s chest, the way her eyes sat low and heavy.
“i should probably deal with that, no?” rio breathes, head nodding towards the proverbial elephant in the room.
“you don’t seriously give a fuck?” agatha mutters, voice low and strained. when rio swerves as she leans in again for another kiss agatha just tusks, pushing impossibly further into rio’s space, crowding her against the wall. she was growing tired of playing the game that she’d created, impatient for rio to melt into her. “i’m so wet for you, rio. come on, touch me” agatha spoke, voice sweet and alluring.
“no. you touch me” rio breathed, distant, surprised at her ability to deny agatha like that, a task she had never possessed much skill in. agatha watched captivated as rio grabbed agatha’s hand, guiding her to where she needed her, pushing agatha’s cool fingers below the waistband of her underwear. the touch makes them both moan, wet heat slicking agatha’s hand, rio’s thighs. “you’ve demonstrated that anyone can get you off. since only you can touch me make it worth my while then” rio bit, hips rutting into agatha’s hand.
“okay” agatha whispered, eyes running up and down rio as she nods, heart warming at rio’s pettiness. two fingers slip inside rio easily, her thumb stroking lazy circles over her clit. rio’s hips cant up in time with agatha’s slow strokes, legs starting to feel weak, back rutting against the wall desperate for more. rio was gone, agatha could tell by the feel of rio’s body sunken into her, from the way she clawed at her back. her moans echoed around the room, the wrecked sobs and constant panting, soft and pathetic, making agatha’s chest swell, her core tighten. nipping and licking agatha spoke into rio’s neck, the vibrations making rio’s hair stand on edge, “they never moan like you. so beautiful and desperate for me”.
“shut up” rio whines, voice barely above a whisper.
agatha slips in her third finger, picking up the pace on rio’s clit, fucking away any further protests from rio. “i’m serious sweetheart they don’t need me like you do” agatha continues, punctuating her words with sharp bites, hoping to leave marks. “it makes me crazy. those gorgeous pathetic whimpers fuck it makes me want to ruin you”. agatha got like this, so turned on that she couldn’t stop the word vomit spilling onto rio’s neck and rio loved it, loved the husk of her voice, loved hearing agatha become more and more unravelled by her. “i get to take from them but i never take from you. just wanna make you mine, hear you moan my name”. rio instantly obliges, letting out a wrecked “agatha, please” into her ear. “i let you take from me” agatha snarls, hands getting rougher, “and you couldn’t even be bothered to watch.” pace teetering just on the edge of painful agatha whispers “that made me sad” into rio’s mouth before bringing her in for a messy kiss, tone in that agatha sweet spot between mocking and genuine. agatha was becoming further undone, losing control her tongue was clumsy against rio’s mouth, strokes becoming rugged and rough as her chest heaved, letting out a lustful sigh at the look in rio’s eyes, so needy and compliant.
agatha moved a hand to stroke at rio’s soft cheek, urging her towards her orgasm. “you’ve waited so long, done such a good job. cum baby, let go”. rio cums with a choked cry, hands gripping at agatha’s arms to hold herself upright. her body trembles with her release, her sticky wetness making her uncomfortable as agatha’s hand slides over her clit, fucking her through. agatha’s deadly fingers wipe away the tears prickling the corners of rio’s eyes as she catches her breath, legs trembling from the force of her release.