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“Nicky” Agatha quipped, “Don’t eat that, baby”

The toddler whips his head around with a toothy grin, and bright hazel eyes meet hers as he giggles, dropping the sand from his hand and reaching over to grab the toy truck buried beside him. 

Agatha slides back in the Adirondack chair; her feet propped up against the sandbox that Rio had insisted on building last fall. The sun is hanging low in the evening sky, shadows from the tall oak trees that line their backyard stretch out like hands on a clock, telling her that her wife should be home soon. She spins the glass of iced tea in its spot on the arm of the chair; the sound of soft scraping falling in and out of the light summer breeze. She watches her son, how his chestnut hair falls at the base of his neck, the soft curls bouncing at the end. How his hands are less chubby now, becoming more slender, the baby fat falling away. She muses about how much he’s grown, just two weeks shy of his third birthday. How more and more she sees Rio in his features, hears her in his laugh. The swell in her chest grows to the point of overwhelming love that she feels the prick of tears in the corners of her eyes. She smiles, feeling the muscles in her face strain under the weight of adoration she feels in this moment. She always knew she wanted to carry Rio’s child; their child. 

“Do you want kids?”

Rio stopped mid-chew, nearly choking on her sandwich, “Come again?”

Agatha smirked against the neck of the beer bottle in her hand before taking a long pull, knowing the chaos she just caused within her Fiancée, “Do you. Want kids? It’s not a test, Rio, breathe. It’s just a question.”

The woman across from her finally swallowed her bite, her mouth suddenly feeling dry, “I mean… I guess I never really thought about it for myself.”

Agatha hums, nodding her head slightly, avoiding the look Rio was giving her across the table.

“Do you?” Rio asks cautiously.  

She watched as Agatha’s eyes dropped to her hand, mindlessly playing with the fork beside her plate, “I didn't think I did” she says evenly. 

Another cautious pause settles between them, “And you do now?” Rio presses.

Rio felt the toe of Agatha’s shoe rub lightly against her calf beneath the table, and then she saw the devilish grin take over the lips she loved so much.

Agatha straightened her posture, shaking her hair out, and stared down the love of her life, “I’ve decided that, Yes, I would like a kid, or kids, if you’re not opposed. And moreover, I want to have your kids.”

Rio sat quietly, taking in the moment, filing through the correct response over and over in her mind until she landed on, “Okay, Agatha.”

Agatha’s foot stopped moving against her shin, a surprised look on her face, as if Rio just took her favorite toy away, “Okay? Just like that?”

Rio laughed, taking a sip of her own beer, “Yes, just like that. What were you expecting me to say?”

“I don’t know, not that—”

Rio’s brow raised, “What? Did I blow your little shock-and-awe moment you were having over there?” 

“I was not having a shock-and-awe moment” Agatha huffed, her eyes finding purchase on anything but Rio, trying desperately to hide their playfulness.

“Oh” Rio chuckled, “You were absolutely trying to trip me up. But jokes on you; I want you to have my baby, too.”

Agatha’s features softened instantly at how casually Rios words found her, a glow radiating off her gentle smile, “Really?”

Reaching across the table, Rio took Agatha’s hand in hers, “Yes, Really. I mean, not right now, but yes, I want to have children with you. I want you to have my children. I’d be crazy not to want that.”

“You don’t think it’s selfish of me to want to carry your baby?”

“Absolutely not,” Rio smiled, “It’s a relief, really. I don’t think I’m cut out for it— carrying the kid” she clarified, “not the being a mom part. I’d be a fucking awesome mom. I’d be a liar if I said I hadn't thought about you pregnant with my baby. It’s incredibly sexy.”

“You’re such a shit, of course you would think me being knocked up would be hot.”

Rio laughed, dropping back into her chair, a dangerous smirk befalling her lips, “Yeah, well, the blush creeping up the side of your neck right now tells me that the thought of me getting you pregnant is doing it for you too, so…”

Agatha folded her napkin and placed it on her plate, “I hope you got enough to eat because we’re leaving… now.”

Rio pushed up from her chair with a cocky nod, “yes ma’am” she drawled. 

The sound of a car coming up the drive, pulling into the garage in the back, pulled Agatha from her memory of that day, her smile growing in anticipation.

“Nicky! Look, Mami’s home!” she said, pointing to the SUV coming to a stop and the engine dying. Her son stood quickly, his feet finding little purchase in the sand as he chanted through an illuminating grin, “Mami’s home! Mami’s home!”

Agatha finds herself chewing on her bottom lip as she watches her wife round the back of the vehicle, her station wear button-down untucked and open, revealing a white tank-top beneath; silver chain sitting against her collarbone. Her cargo pants, still neatly pleated, indicating to Agatha that she had not gone out on a call today. A quick glint off the small metal badge pinned to the flowing fabric of her shirt, Captain Vidal, engraved in black. The Maltese Cross stitched neatly onto the shoulder of her shirt, her hair tied back in a loose ponytail, bangs falling freely around her sunglasses. A moan escaped Agatha's lips, stealing her from her thoughts. She shifted in her seat, a deep ache forming at her center, and smiled, “Hey! We’ve missed you.”

She lifts from her chair and grabs Nicky’s hand, helping him over the edge of the sandbox, freeing him up to run across the lawn. Rio squats down and welcomes him with open arms, “Hey, Mijo! I’ve missed you, buddy!” 

He nuzzles her neck and wraps his arms around her as she straightens back up, the excited words falling from him so quickly that it just comes out as babbling. 

Rio walks over to her wife, adjusting Nicky on her hip, using her free hand to snake around her wife's waist, pulling her into an embrace, “My love” she hums against Agatha’s lips, kissing her lightly.

Agatha's hand cups Rios’s face as she pulls back from the kiss, “I’m glad you’re home.” 

“Me too” Rio sighs, her voice less enthusiastic, “we had a rough call last night…a family. I’ve just wanted to hold you both since we got back to the station.”

Agatha’s eyes softened, “Why didn’t you call me?” 

Rio’s shoulders shrug as she leans down to release a wriggling Nicky. She stands back up, pulling the sunglasses from her eyes, “I didn’t want to wake you up or worry you.”

Agatha watches Rio watching Nicky as he runs off back into the sandbox, going on and on about his new fire truck. Her eyes are distant for a moment, but the color warms quickly and she turns to her wife, “Why don’t you take the night off? I got him.” 

Agatha wraps her arms around Rio’s shoulders, and nuzzles her nose, “You just got off, I’m sure you’re tired. Want to get changed—”

Warm lips press against her own, “I’m just happy to be home. You’ve been pulling mom duty for 48 hours, I got this, honey.” Agatha searches her wife's eyes, the same beautiful hazel she sees every day in their son, “You sure?”

Rio nods, stealing another kiss, playfully slapping Agatha’s ass, “Go read a book, scroll TikTok, take a nap, whatever. Nicky and I will take care of dinner.”

Agatha smiles, her hands not yet ready to let go of Rio, “Ooo, dino nuggets, huh?”

Rio holds her warmly, a playful glint in her eyes, “And Paw Patrol Mac & Cheese. We’re gonna be eating good tonight, baby.”

Agatha swoons animatedly, “What more could a girl ask for?”

Rio leans down and places a soft caress against Agatha’s neck, “Go on” she mumbles against the warm skin, “My son and I need to go over the proper procedure for driving a fire truck in the sand.”

Agatha laughs, her hooded eyes opening to find Nicky burying the truck even deeper into the sand, yelling for his Mami to come see, “You mean you’re not supposed to bury the truck” she says playfully. 

“No,” Rio mutters between nips, “but he’s still better than most of the probies I have right now.”

They both laugh, sharing a final kiss, “Okay” Agatha concedes, “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Agatha watches Rio climb into the sandbox without hesitation and drop down beside their son in the sand. “Okay Nicky, this is a Quint Truck” she says, “what is this” she asks, pointing to the top of the truck as she pulls it from the sand. “Ladder!” he says proudly. She continues on about the various parts of the truck she works on, pointing each one out as she names them off, Nicky parroting her after each word.

Agatha grabs her glass and turns back toward the house, a warmth in her chest as the lesson behind her devolves into loud laughter and giggles from both of her loves.

Rolling on her side, Agatha can hear the laughter of her son through the haze of sleep that clings to her. She stretches with a soft smile, finally opening her eyes and taping the phone that now lies beside her on the bed; 7:02pm.

The plan had been to rest for a few minutes, but that apparently turned into a two-hour nap that she knows she’ll pay for later. 

As she makes her way down stairs, she stops shy of the landing and listens to the conversation happening around the corner. Nicky is asking a million babbled questions as Rio moves around the kitchen. From why can dinosaurs fly to how soon can he dump the noodles into the pot. Rio is gentle with him, answering every question with enthusiasm, as if she’s waited all day to just converse with her son. The patience that Rio has is something that has always left her in awe. Agatha takes a soft step and leans against the doorway, now facing the scene she's been listening to play out. 

Rio’s work shirt is now draped across the back of a dining chair, leaving her in her work pants and tank top, her hair has been pulled from the ponytail and cascades around her shoulders. Rio has her back to Agatha, one hand adding a pinch of salt to the pot on the stove, the other hand is splayed against Nicky’s chest, keeping him secured as he sits on the countertop beside her, small hands holding tightly to the box of macaroni and cheese. Agatha takes a moment to trace the sharp lines of the vine tattoo that snakes its way up Rio’s toned bicep and dips from sight at her shoulder, disappearing under the white fabric, reemerging just under the flowing dark hair at her neck. A rush of warmth licks at the back of her neck and Agatha decides that she made the right choice getting some sleep in now, because she didn’t plan on getting any later. 

Rio, oblivious to the desire building behind her, playfully tells Nicky to get ready for some magic. He watches her with an admiration that can only be defined as amazement and then turns his attention to the water in the pot beginning to boil.  

“Mami! You made bubbles” he says excitedly.

“I told you buddy, Mami is magic” Rio says as she wiggles her fingers in front of him. 

She hooks her hands under his arms and lifts him, spinning him quickly against her and pinning his back to her chest, “Mmkay Nicky, time to pour the noodles in the bubbles.” The toddler excitedly holds the box over the pot, with the gentle guidance of his mother, the pasta falls into the water as he smiles triumphantly. 

“Good job, Mijo,” Rio praises, setting him down on the floor, “now go put the box in the trash, please.”

As soon as his feet hit the floor, he's off and running to Agatha, “Mama!”

Rio turns and smiles, “Have a good nap?”

Agatha nods, lifting Nicky and walking over to the trash to allow him to finish his task, “Sorry for sleeping so long.”

Rio steps to her, “I’m glad you got some rest” she mumbles against her cheek. 

When Rio pulls away to resume stirring the pot, Agatha reaches out quickly and pinches the front of the tank top, pulling her wife back. She presses her lips to Rio’s, feeling hungry for the taste of her. Rio smiles into the kiss, allowing Agatha to deepen it. The moment is short lived when Nicky grabs at their faces and the kiss dissolves with soft laughter from them both.

“Dinner’s almost ready,” Rio says, stepping away, “about eight more minutes.”   

Agatha nods and turns, “Come on Nicky, let’s go get cleaned up for dinner.”

When Nicholas and Agatha return to the kitchen some minutes later, Rio is laying the plate shaped like a fire truck full of food on the table, “Come on, Nicky” she motions as he jaunts over toward her. She lifts him with ease and sets him in the booster seat they recently swapped for the highchair he’d outgrown, “Agatha, can you grab his cup” she mumbles, securing the belt around him.

Agatha returns to the table with the sippy cup of apple juice and sets it in front of Nicky. She slides into her chair as Rio reaches over and places a plate before her, “Dinner is served, m’lady.”

As they watch Nicky play-with more than eating his food, they enjoy the easy conversation about their day as they eat. Rio fills Agatha in on how the new trainees are doing at the station, the good and the bad. Her wife presses for more information about the call that led Rio to hold her and their son a little tighter than usual when she got home. Rio dances around the worst of it, but Agatha can see the pain behind her expressions, letting her know that it rattled Rio’s soul. Agatha shifts the topic, talking about the playdate with the Maximoff’s they had the day before, how she’s pretty sure that Wanda is losing her mind and needs a getaway. She spoke about how Nicky saw a family with a dog at the park earlier in the day and proceeded to inform Agatha that he’s not special because he doesn't have a pet; so she opens the door to the idea of one to Rio, which she knows will be an immediate yes. Rio has never been able to say no to anything Nicky asks for.

Soon, Agatha stands from her seat and reaches over to collect her and Rio’s empty plates. “Thank you for dinner” she hums, leaning down and placing a kiss into the crown of Nicky’s head. As she makes her way toward the sink, Rio stretches in her chair, “You all done, bud?” she asks, looking toward their son. Nicky nods, rubbing his eyes, a small “yea” mixing with the yawn he’s fighting. She stands, rounding the table and releasing Nicky from the seat, “Bath time” she utters, lifting him.

“I’ll do the dishes later, baby. Just leave ‘em”, Rio says as she brushes past Agatha at the sink, stopping briefly to lay a kiss in the crook of neck and shoulder, “Pour yourself a glass of wine and go draw a bath” she says softly before retreating upstairs to bathe the sleepy boy in her arms.

Agatha stays long enough to rinse everything before pulling a stemmed glass from the cabinet and reaching for the bottle on the counter. A quick pop of the cork and the dark red liquid flows effortlessly into the glass. She takes a moment to let the liquid breathe, spinning it in the glass gently, inhaling the aroma of blackberries and lilac. She’s missed this. It was only within the last three months that she finally got Nicky to fully stop nursing. She’d been weaning him off since he turned two, but it was a comfort for him at night and it was always a special time for them to bond; she hadn’t been quite ready to make him go cold turkey. Although as she takes a sip from the glass, she quietly acknowledges the feeling of freedom it brings. She misses the quiet moments she shared with her son, but she was ready to have a drink without worrying about needing to pump. And frankly, she was ready to have her boobs be her own again.

She walks through the house, the quiet wrapping around her, as she checks to make sure everything is locked for the night. It’s not long before the gentle sounds of splashing and laughter float down the stairs, beckoning her. She climbs, reaching the top of the staircase and turning into the soft glow coming from the room a few feet down the hall. With a push, the door swings wide and her eyes land on the little boy in the bath, a tower of bubbles on his head and running down around the gleeful smile he wears. Rio sits on the floor beside the tub, boots and socks tossed haphazardly to the side, her back against the wall, long legs crossed out before her, one hand splashing water against Nicky, the other resting easily in her lap. When Rio hears the creak of the door, her attention turns toward the woman standing before her, “Hey you” she says, a hint of exhaustion hidden tightly within her cadence. 

Agatha steps in and leans her back against the sink, “Will you guys come say goodnight before you put him down?”

Rio reaches her free hand out and slips it under the cuff of Agatha’s jeans, gently massaging her ankle, “Of course, my love.”

Agatha steps toward her, seeking out more of her touch, and Rio obliges, wrapping her arm around Agatha’s leg, her hand finding purchase on the inside of her thigh. She lays her head against her hip as Agatha drops her free hand into Rio’s hair and combs through it, eliciting a soft hum from the woman below her.

Agatha holds out the glass of wine and Rio takes it from her fingers, bringing it to her lips and taking a sip, she hums, “That’s a good one.”

With her fingers still working through the dark mane, Agatha nods, taking the glass back, “Alice dropped it off last week; she brought it back from her trip to Napa.”

Rio’s attention is drawn back to the task at hand when Nicky stands in the bath and then quickly drops back down causing a wave of water to rush over the edge of the tub and all over Rio, “Ah, buddy, come on!”

“Sorry Mami” he mumbles, unsure of himself. 

“It’s okay, baby” she reassures him, bringing the smile back to his features, “let’s keep the water inside the tub, okay?” He nods and goes back to running the plastic fish beside him through the water, scolding the toy gently as he does, “we don’t splash Mami.”

Agatha leans down and meets Rio’s lips in a quick kiss. “I’m gonna go get in the bath” she says, as Rio smiles up at her, “mmkay.”

Slipping out into the darkened hallway, Agatha sips on the wine, enjoying the warmth it draws from her cheeks. She moves quietly through their bedroom, grabbing a few candles and taking them to the bathroom with her. She was going to enjoy this rare child-free bath if her life depended on it. 

In a beat, her body slips into the torrid water, releasing a heavy sigh as she settles back against the slope of the tub. The room grows quiet as the soft candlelight flickers around her, pulling shadows into a slow and languid dance. The soft scent of cedarwood begins to fill the room and she can feel her body giving up the tension it’s been holding. As her mind begins to find the relaxation that is taking over her body, she allows herself to lie back, head dipping, and close her eyes. Arms hooked over either side of the large claw-foot, fingers dancing lazily in the humid air that hangs around her.

Thoughts of Rio flood her mind; some soft, others less so. She always misses her wife on the long rotations; the unhurried mornings wrapped in her arms, the days when they run mundane errands, hands clasped, and the nights they can’t get enough of one another. After eight years of marriage, they still seem to find something new in each other that drives them wild. Their marriage is one that sees its fair share of fights; two high-strung women, very much each other's equal, it’s only natural. It’s as if the universe deemed them fire and ice, forever tangled together in a waltz of wills. To an outsider, their love is a labyrinthian tangle of passion and conflict. Yet they navigate its complex paths, and when the flames of a fight subside and the emotional tides run low, my god, the euphoria they find in that shared stillness is a universe unto itself. It wasn’t just the passion after a fight that would find them wrapped in each other, spent from the wordless way they worked out their grievances. It was more than not the quiet moments that sent Agatha or her wife into a spiral of want. 

Agatha hummed, dowing the last of her wine, a soft smile gracing her lips, her mind wandering back to the tender chaos of pregnancy. She recalled turning over at three in the morning, gently rousing Rio to retrieve the newest, most peculiar craving: pickle-flavored Cheetos. When her wonderfully exhausted wife returned, collapsing onto the bed, the crinkle of the opaque bag softly landing on Agatha's swollen belly, a laugh bubbled forth. "You're going to be an incredible daddy," she’d murmured, a playful endearment meant to thank Rio for indulging her every whim. It wasn't the first time she'd used the moniker, but the sudden storm that erupted in Rio's deep brown eyes when Agatha looked up made her breath catch. A new craving, far more potent than Cheetos, ignited. The bag was cast aside, and the remaining early morning hours dissolved into a delicious sheen of sweat and whispered promises of forever. Something had irrevocably shifted in Rio at that moment. Agatha had learned that the word "daddy" was a key, unleashing a bestial, untamed wave of passion. The raw, commanding way Rio possessed her, whispered to her, and moved through her body in new and thrilling ways, left Agatha utterly undone, a lingering question on her lips: why had she ever waited to call Rio "daddy" in their bed?

It had been a while since they had unbridled, no-holds-barred sex. Life gets in the way; quickies interrupted by cries from down the hall, long work days that lead to exhaustion. There is a rhythmic chaos that settles into life after having a child, often redefining intimacy. That spontaneous, untamed passion can begin to feel elusive when exhaustion becomes a constant companion. It’s often thought of as the desire for one another fading but really, it’s the bandwidth for the intensity that diminishes. Before the sleepless nights, the endless diaper changes, the weight of work deadlines, sex was an uninhibited exploration of each other. But now… now it’s something they squeeze into fleeting moments, often hampered by the anxiety of being interrupted. Makes it difficult for the mind to let go and give into the pleasure completely. 

She misses that intensity, that fire. She misses the way Rio would claim her over and over, the filthiest of words falling from her mouth as she drug Agatha to the edge and tossed her mercilessly into the void. Then the shift, as Rio held her through the pleasure, pulling her home, whispering adorations, soft prayers, so different from the damnation that spewed from her moments earlier. It made Agatha’s head spin, her heart thunder, and her cunt throb. Rio was an all-encompassing force in life, but in the bedroom, she was a celestial being, one who could do no wrong. 

Warmth pools in her lower belly as her eyes lock closed, gnawing on her lower lip, a hand dips beneath the still surface of the water, lithe fingers sliding between her thighs. A soft moan falls from her as she works her fingers through her folds, picturing her wife ruining her. She works her clit in soft circles, a vision of Rio above her, sweat beading down her neck. Agatha slides down lower into the water, spreading her legs wider and dips a finger into herself, a whimper echoing off the walls. She pumps into herself, slowly at first, imagining the build up her wife would bring, but soon the water begins to ripple, small waves rolling into larger splashes crashing against the wall of the tub. She imagines Rio taking her from behind, the strap moving inside her as her wife tells her how good she feels around her cock. With her back against the bottom of the tub, her nipples are peaked above the water, missing the warmth the rest of her body feels. Her free hand comes down and palms herself, rolling the tight bud between her fingers, hoping to recreate the feeling of her wife’s tongue there. She can hear her wife, the low timber in her voice, and she moves to add another finger, until— 

“Alright Mijo, let’s go say goodnight to mama.” She abandons herself in a flash at the sound of her wife and son walking into the bedroom. Pushing her heels against the tub, she juts up into a seated position, running her trembling hands through the wet hair, pushing it from her face trying to calm her body as they round the corner into the bathroom. 

A lazy smile breaks across her features as Nicky comes running toward her, the soft pads of his footfalls on the tile mimicking the racing of her heart. “Mama” he exclaims as he reaches the side of the tub, “why you take a bath wifout me?” he questions, his brows furrowed in confusion. She chuckles at the fierce look he gives her; Rio’s clone. “Mama likes to take baths alone sometimes. Besides, you were having fun with Mami.” Her hand reaches up and brushes the damp hair from his forehead, parting it to the side, “Did you come to tell me something, little one?”

Nicky simply reaches for the bottom of his pajama shirt and tries to pull it off, grunting in frustration as his head gets stuck in the collar. Rio steps forward and pulls it back down, “My son. Chill. You can’t get in the bath with mama; you’re already clean, bud.” He stares up at her disgruntled and stamps his foot, “I wanna stay wif mama, not you!” Agatha's lips tuck in as she desperately tries to suppress a laugh at her son's indignation. Her eyes meet Rios and the laugh bubbles from her nose, a small snort. It was only in the last few months that Nicholas had begun to find his defiant side, and it became clear early on that though he may physically be the copy and paste version of Rio Vidal, his attitude and his fire was all Agatha Harkness. 

Rios head drops back, “Nicky—” she sighs, exasperated, her hands running roughly over her face.

“Hey,” Agatha leans over the edge, reaching out and grabbing her son's hand again, “be nice to Mami, she loves you very much and she’s missed you.” His face softens and he turns back to his other mother, his head bowed, “Sorry, mami”, he whispers as his amber eyes peek up at her, waiting for her response. 

Rio sighs, her exasperation melting away at Nicky’s remorseful gaze. She kneels, pulling him into a tight hug. "It’s okay, buddy. Mami knows you love her." She kisses his head, then glances at Agatha, a silent communication passing between them. "Now, time for bed, little man. Give Mama kisses and tell her goodnight." Nicky turns and leans in, small hands gripping the side of the tub, his lips puckered as Agatha leans over to meet them, “Goodnight, sweetheart. Mama loves you.” Nicky smiles, “night-night, mama. Wuv you.”

Rio stands, scooping her son into her arms, and carries him out of the bathroom, leaving Agatha alone in the quiet room. The scent of the cedarwood candles mingled with the lingering warmth of bathwater and the faint, earthy smell of her son’s clean hair. Agatha closes her eyes, a slow, deliberate smile spreading across her lips as she listens to the faint murmur of Rio’s voice from down the hall, followed by Nicky’s sleepy protests, then silence. She stretches, the lingering tension in her body replaced by a delicious anticipation. Agatha pushes a hand through her damp hair, the warmth of the bath beginning to cool, but the heat in her belly intensifying. She stands, letting the water sluice from her skin, and reaches for a plush towel, wrapping it around herself. She moves deliberately, extinguishing the candles one by one, each flicker of light dying mirroring the subtle tightening in her stomach. 

With the flick of her wrist, the vanity lights come on as she slips out of the towel, using it to dry her mane, before hanging it back on the wall and slipping into her robe; the silk cooling the heat radiating from her. She reaches for the array of bottles and jars on the counter, the familiar ritual of her nightly skincare routine. As the steam from the bath clings to her skin, she opens a bottle of serum, dropping rivulets into her palm and gently massaging it into her face, followed by a rich night cream, its delicate scent a subtle backdrop to the gentle scent left behind from the extinguished candles. She moves with a practiced ease, her mind already anticipating the soft sounds of Rio's return. The house was quiet now, save for the distant hum of the air conditioner kicking on, a silence that usually felt vast but tonight was filled with a taut, exciting expectation. She hummed a low, tuneless melody as she applied a thick lip balm, her eyes lingering on her reflection, a soft flush high on her cheekbones. She knew Rio wouldn't be long. Lately, Nicky, once asleep, was usually down for the count, and Rio's exhaustion would be quickly replaced by a different kind of energy, one that Agatha was more than ready to meet.

A slow, deliberate smile spread across her lips as the anticipation for Rio’s return hummed beneath her skin, hearing the soft click of the bedroom door down the hall. A mischievous glint entered her eyes, when she heard Rio’s footsteps approaching down the hall, "Alexa, dim the lights and play Daddy’s Home by The Limelights," she murmured, and the room softened into a warm, inviting glow. Agatha leaned against the bathroom doorway, rubbing the last of her lotion into her hands, the subtle scent settling around her. The moment Rio stepped into the bedroom, the first smooth, soulful notes of the song filled the air. Rio stopped just inside the doorframe and turned toward her wife, arching her brow and eyeing her closely, “Mi amor…” Agatha pushes off her perch with her shoulder, sauntering toward her wife, a seductive grin playing on her lips, “Welcome home, daddy.” Even in the dim light, she can see the pupils of her wife’s dark eyes blow. She watches as the corner of Rio’s lips twitch, giving way to a lopsided grin that holds the promise of absolute ruin. 

Rio reaches out to her, a warm hand wrapping around her waist, “What are you doing?” she growls. The vibration of her vibrato running through Agatha like an earthquake, leaving her unsteady; certainty not ready for the rough pull, the spin, and the sudden break of her back against her wife’s chest. Rio rests her chin on Agatha’s shoulder, her hands holding her tightly against her. Agatha sighs as Rio nudges her neck, just below her ear. Soft lips play at the warm skin there as one of her hands slips beneath the silk fabric, running along the small curve of her lower stomach, fingers splaying wide, possessive.

Rio starts to sway behind her, the music moving melodically around them. Agatha lifts her arm, reaching behind her and tangling her fingers in the raven hair of her wife. When she pulls lightly, Rio nips at her neck, eliciting a gasp. "Mm, baby, that’s not fair," Rio rasps, her lips brushing against Agatha’s ear, sending shivers down her spine. "I’ve had a long day. I’m tired."

"Are you?" Agatha purrs, twisting in Rio’s arms, turning to face her as they sway together. Her hands slide up Rio’s chest, tracing the outline of her collarbones before meeting behind her neck. "Because you don’t feel very tired right now." She presses her body closer, allowing Rio to feel the undeniable proof of her desire.

Rio’s eyes, still blown wide in the dim light, drop to Agatha’s lips, a flicker of raw hunger igniting within them. "You’re playing a dangerous game, mi amor," she warns, her voice thick with a promise of retribution.

"Good," Agatha challenges with the snap of her teeth, a mischievous grin playing on her lips. "I like a challenge, daddy."

The word hangs in the air, a potent catalyst. Rio’s breath hitches. Her hands, which had been gently holding Agatha, tighten possessively at her waist, pulling her flush against her. “Alexa,” she growls, “play my Call Me Daddy playlist.” The low opening chords of Lights On by H.E.R. begin to run their fingers through the thick atmosphere that surrounds the two women locked together.

The air crackles with an unspoken intensity as Rio’s head descends, her mouth claiming Agatha’s in a hungry, bruising kiss. It’s a kiss that demands, that consumes, that speaks of long-suppressed cravings and the fierce reunion of two souls. Agatha responds with equal fervor, her fingers tangling deeper in Rio’s hair, pulling her closer, desperate to feel every inch of her wife. Rio’s hand slides between them, a swift pull and the silk robe falls open, exposing a tantalizing expanse of skin, and Rio groans, her hands sliding around Agatha’s waist to explore the curves of her back, tracing the delicate line of her spine. The feeling of her wife’s fingers running over every rib causes Agatha to moan into the kiss, Rio reacting in kind, her hands slipping lower, palming her ass, “Fuck, Agatha. I want you.”

Rio pulls her lips from Agatha’s, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she buries her face in the curve of Agatha’s neck. Agatha’s hands clench in Rio’s hair, pulling her closer, a desperate whimper escaping her lips. "Please, daddy," she whispers, the word a plea and a command.

Rio’s body tenses, and she lets out a guttural growl, her hands moving with purpose. She lifts Agatha effortlessly, carrying her to the bed. Agatha wraps her legs around Rio’s waist, her robe falling open to reveal her nakedness. Rio lays her gently on the comforter, her eyes still dark with hunger. She leans down, kissing a path from Agatha’s neck to her collarbone, trailing wet kisses along her shoulder.

"Baby— Fuck, I’ve missed this," Rio rasps, her voice thick with desire. She pushes the silk robe completely off Agatha’s shoulders, letting it pool around her. Agatha shivers, not from cold, but from the raw intensity of Rio’s gaze. Rio’s eyes rake over Agatha’s body, lingering on her breasts, her hips, the soft curve of her belly.

Rio moves over her, propping herself on her forearms, her hips pressing against Agatha’s. "You’re so beautiful, mi amor," she murmurs, her fingers tracing the delicate line of Agatha’s jaw. Agatha arches into the touch, her hips instinctively bucking against Rio’s. The feeling of the cool steel of the belt buckle still on Rio’s waist giving her a new sensation.

"I want you, Rio. Now," Agatha demands, her voice a little breathless.

Rio’s lips curve into that dangerous, lopsided grin. "As you wish, mi amor." She lowers her head, her tongue tracing the hollow of Agatha’s throat, then dipping lower, teasing the sensitive skin above her breasts. Agatha gasps as Rio’s mouth finally claims one peaked nipple, suckling gently, then more fiercely, her teeth grazing the sensitive bud. Agatha cries out, her hands reaching for Rio’s hair, pulling her closer.

Rio’s hand moves between Agatha’s legs, finding the warm, wet proof of her wife’s need. Her fingers tease and prod, building the exquisite tension. Agatha’s hips lift, begging for more, her body a taut bow string, ready to snap.

"Look at you," Rio whispers, her voice rough with lust. "So desperate for me. Just how I like it." She presses a thumb against Agatha’s clit, eliciting another sharp gasp. "Say it, baby. Tell me what you want."

"I want you inside me," Agatha whimpers, her body writhing beneath Rio’s touch. "Please…"

Rio chuckles, a low, predatory sound that sends shivers down Agatha’s spine. "Good. Because I’m going to ruin you." Her fingers delve deeper, finding Agatha’s slick opening, and Agatha cries out, her body arching off the bed. Rio begins to move her fingers, slowly at first, then picking up a relentless rhythm. Agatha’s breath hitches, her body trembling, teetering on the edge.

"Faster, baby," she pleads, her voice hoarse. "More. Please."

Rio obliges, her movements becoming faster, harder, stretching her wife with ease, slipping another finger deep inside her. Agatha’s cries fill the room, echoing the rhythm of Rio’s hand. Just as Agatha feels the first shudders begin to build, Rio pulls her hand away, leaving her gasping, aching.

"Not yet, mi amor," Rio whispers against Agatha’s ear, her breath hot. "We’re just getting started."

Rio steps back, arms out, gesturing to her own clothing, "Take ‘em off," Rio commands, the air of confidence in her voice, the low growl, sends a shiver down Agatha's spine.

Agatha’s eyes, deep blue, a storm of desire, meet Rio's, and she slowly pushes herself up, her robe pooling behind her on the bed, abandoned. Rio’s eyes rake over her body, a flicker of raw appreciation lighting their depths. "Beautiful," she murmurs, reaching out to trace the line of Agatha's hip. "Now be a good girl and undress me."

Agatha reaches for the belt, undoing it swiftly. Next, the button of Rio’s cargo pants, her fingers brushing against the cool metal. Slowly, deliberately, she unbuttons them, then tugs at the zipper, pulling it down with a soft rasp. Rio shifts, allowing Agatha to push the pants down over her hips, the fabric pooling at her feet. Agatha’s gaze lingers on the taut muscles of Rio's thighs, the dark hair dusting her calves. She moves to the white tank top, her fingers hooking beneath the hem, slowly drawing it up and over Rio’s head, revealing the defined planes of her stomach and chest, the vine tattoo snaking up her bicep. Rio’s breathing becomes a little more ragged as Agatha reaches for the last pieces of clothing, the dark sports bra and her briefs. Agatha sits back on the edge of the mattress and takes a moment to devour the sight of Rio's bare form, a primal hunger stirring within her. The defined muscles that ripple with each breath Rio takes, the intricate vine tattoo, a testament to years of strength and beauty, only serve to increase the need. Every curve was a silent invitation, promising the raw, uninhibited passion that only Rio could unleash.

Rio moves with a sudden, fluid grace, turning from Agatha and walking to the nightstand drawer. Agatha watches, mesmerized, as Rio pulls out a leather harness, the familiar, well-worn strap attached. Rio secures it around her hips, the soft thud of the buckle echoing in the room.

Without a word, Rio spins, her eyes locking onto Agatha's, a dangerous glint in their depths. She grabs Agatha’s hips, pulling her back towards the edge of the bed. Agatha gasps as Rio pushes her forward, flipping her around so she’s bent over, hands bracing against the mattress. Rio’s knee slides between Agatha’s legs, spreading them wider, then lifts, propping their legs up against the bed, their feet finding a stronghold on the mahogany bed rail. Agatha can hear the soft click of the cap, the sound of liquid rushing, and the distinct sound of Rio stroking her cock with lube.

"Ready, baby?" Rio growls, her voice thick with anticipation. Agatha nods with fervor, her bottom lip held tightly in her teeth, anticipating her wife’s next move. Rio doesn’t leave her wanting long as she thrusts forward, the shaft finding its mark, sliding deep inside Agatha. Agatha cries out, a sharp, choked sound, her body arching involuntarily.

"Fuck," Rio hisses, grinding into her. "You feel so good."

Agatha reaches back, her hands greedily finding Rio’s ass, her fingers digging into the firm muscle that flexes beneath her touch. She pulls Rio closer, begging for more, her head thrown back, a guttural moan tearing from her throat as Rio claims her, over and over again, against the edge of their bed.

"Such a good girl, baby," Rio rasps, her voice a low growl against Agatha's ear, each word a sensual tremor that vibrates through Agatha’s entire being. "So wet for daddy." She pulls back slightly, then plunges forward to the hilt, the strap hitting a new depth, making Agatha gasp. "You love this, don’t you? You love feeling me deep inside you."

Agatha can only whimper in response, her hips rising to meet each thrust, one hand digging into Rio’s ass, the other flailing to find purchase on the footboard. "Yes, daddy. God, yes."

Rio’s hand reaches around, finding Agatha’s slick clit, and she begins to rub, circling the sensitive bud as she continues her relentless rhythm. "Look at you, begging for it. Such a slut for my cock, aren’t you?"

Agatha moans, the combination of internal fullness and external friction building to an unbearable intensity. She shifts her weight, running her hand through her hair roughly, trying desperately to move it from her face, "I am…” Rio grips her hips, fingers bruising with each thrust, “You’re what” she grunts. Agatha whines, a pitiful sound falling from her throat, “Your slut. Now shut up and fuck me harder."

"Oh,” a deep chuckle, something near demonic falls from Rio, “I will, mi amor," her voice laced with dark amusement. "I’m going to make you scream my name. I’m going to make you come apart for me." She slams into Agatha, the force of the thrust sending a shockwave of pleasure through her. "You feel so good wrapped around me. So tight. So wet."

Agatha’s body shudders, the edges of her vision blurring. "Rio… daddy… please!"

"Don’t hold back, baby," Rio commands, her breath hot against Agatha’s neck. "Let it all go for me. Come undone." Her fingers quicken their pace on Agatha’s clit, mirroring the driving rhythm of her thrusts. "That’s it. Give it to me. All of it."

Agatha cries out, a ragged scream torn from her throat as a violent orgasm seizes her, her body arching fiercely against Rio, shuddering uncontrollably. Rio grinds into her, continuing her thrusts, murmuring praise and filthy endearments until Agatha’s shudders slowly subside, leaving her breathless and utterly spent.

Rio slows, the hands bruising Agatha’s hips finally fall forward to the mattress, she curls around her wife’s back, their breaths ragged and broken. Her lips ghost across her wife's shoulders, peppering her slick skin with soft caresses. Her hips remain still until she feels the soft tap of her wife’s fingers against her own hip, telling her to pull out, give her wife a moment. A slick sound fills the room as Agatha moans as the loss of Rio. 

Rio drops to her knees, her breathing still harsh, but the desire to taste her wife is stronger than her need for air. Hands spread Agatha’s ass cheeks and Rio moves in swiftly, her mouth greedy against her cunt. The sound that falls from her wife’s mouth is guttural.

"Rio, fuck! I can’t—I can’t think," Agatha whimpers, her body trembling, the raw, insatiable pleasure radiating through her. Rio’s tongue is a relentless force, flicking and swirling, tracing every sensitive curve, then diving deep into her slick heat. Agatha’s hips buck and grind against the mattress, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps as she claws at the sheets, desperate for an anchor in the storm of sensation. The insistent pull of Rio’s mouth on her clit, followed by the daring flick against her asshole, sends shivers, both of shock and intense pleasure, through her.

"God, Rio, you’re too much," Agatha moans, her voice thick with pure hedonism, her back arching, her hand reaching around, frantically grasping at Rio’s damp hair. She tugs, not harshly, but with a desperate plea. "Stop. No, don’t stop. Just… just wait. I’m— fuck, Ri—, fuck baby, I can’t...” Rio pulls away, her face covered in Agatha’s arousal, hearing the desperation in her wife’s tone; too much. Agatha falls lifeless against the mattress, a quiet scream dampened by the sheets, “Don’t… ugh, baby, don’t you dare stop." Rio chuckles, knowing the torment she is inflicting on her needy wife, “But you said—” she is cut off as Agatha turns her head, glaring over her shoulder, meeting her gaze, her eyes wide and unfocused with lust. "You’re driving me absolutely wild, my love. I just needed a minute,” she plants both her feet firmly on the ground, almost defiantly, “now keep going” she purrs, shaking her ass in front of Rio’s flush face, “Show me how badly you want me."

Rio's lips curve into a wicked smile, her eyes burning with predatory intent as she meets Agatha's defiant gaze. "Oh, I'll show you, mi amor," she growls, her voice a low rumble that vibrates through Agatha's core. She wastes no time, plunging back in, her tongue a masterful instrument of pleasure, flicking and swirling, leaving no sensitive crevice unexplored. Agatha cries out, her hips bucking furiously against the mattress, her fingers digging into the sheets, desperate for purchase.

"Yes! Fuck, Rio! Don't stop!" Agatha moans, her voice a raw, desperate plea. Rio answers by pressing harder, her mouth a relentless suction, her teeth lightly grazing Agatha's already swollen clit, sending jolts of exquisite sensation through her. Agatha's legs begin to tremble, her body arching higher, instinctively seeking more of Rio's consuming touch.

"You like that, baby?" Rio whispers against her wet skin, her breath hot. She pulls back for a mere second, just enough to torment, then plunges deeper, her tongue thrusting inside her. Agatha screams, a guttural sound torn from her throat as her body tightens around Rio’s tongue, shuddering violently as warm liquid rushes down past Rio’s lips, trailing liquid down her throat as she laps at her wife’s orgasm.

"Rio! Oh god, Rio!" she cries, her voice hoarse, broken. Her hands tangle in the bedding, pulling, clutching, as the world dissolves into a blinding kaleidoscope of pleasure. Her entire body convulses, riding the wave of orgasm, her hips pounding against the bed as if to embed herself into the mattress. Rio holds her, continuing to devour her, her mouth relentless, until Agatha’s last shudder subsides, leaving her utterly spent, gasping for breath, Rio’s name a lingering echo on her lips.

Rio stands, her hand soft against the small of her wife’s back. She leans forward and brushes the wild hair that shields her wife’s beautiful features from her, “Hey, you doin’ okay down here” she murmurs with a soft smile, a familiar gentleness in her tone. 

Agatha buries her face in the comforter beneath her, and groans, her hand weakly lifts into a thumbs-up, causing Rio to laugh before leaning down and kissing her shoulder. 

Rio continues to pepper soft kisses across Agatha’s shoulders, her hand gently stroking her back. "You’re so good, mi amor," she murmurs, her voice a tender whisper against Agatha’s ear. "I love you so much. So beautiful." She felt Agatha’s body slowly relax beneath her touch, the violent shudders subsiding, replaced by soft tremors. After a few more moments of silent adoration, Rio’s hand drifts down, reaching for the buckle of the harness, intending to remove it.

"No," Agatha rasps, her voice still thick with the aftermath of pleasure, but surprisingly firm. She pushes herself up, turning to face Rio, her eyes still hazy with lingering desire. She slips off the bed, giving her legs a moment to reacquaint themselves with standing of their own volition. Then, with deliberate slowness, she drops to her knees before Rio, her gaze locked on her wife’s eyes.

Rio’s breath hitches, her eyes widening as Agatha’s intent becomes clear. A hungry flicker ignites in their depths. "Agatha…" she starts, but the word is cut short as Agatha reaches out, her hands finding Rio’s hips, pulling her closer.

"Hold my hair, daddy," Agatha commands, her voice a low purr. Rio’s hand instinctively goes to the back of Agatha’s head, gathering the damp strands and pulling them back, exposing the delicate curve of her neck.

Agatha lowers her head, her lips brushing against the head of the silicone cock. She licks, slowly, provocatively, drawing a sharp gasp from Rio, her eyes never leaving her wife’s. Her mouth closes around the thick, hard length, hollowing out her cheeks, she sucks with a fierce hunger. Rio’s fingers tightened in Agatha’s hair, her head dropping back at the sight of her wife on her knees before her, a low moan escaping her lips.

Agatha works her mouth expertly, her tongue flicking, swirling; she moans, tasting herself on the strap, drawing gasps and groans from Rio. Her free hand slides between Rio’s legs, finding her damp curls, her fingers dipping into the wet heat of her clit. She circles the sensitive bud, teasing, tormenting, then plunging a finger inside. Rio bucks against her, her hips thrusting down, caught somewhere between not wanting to gag her wife with the cock in her mouth, and thrusting harder to hear the cries Agatha would make.

"God, Agatha, fuck!" Rio gasps, her voice hoarse, her body trembling. Agatha’s other hand slides back, her fingers finding the sensitive pucker of Rio’s asshole, tracing it, then massaging gently until she can ease the tip of her finger inside with just enough pressure to make her wife come undone. Rio screamed, a desperate, pleasure-filled sound, her legs shaking uncontrollably.

Agatha continued her relentless assault, her mouth devouring, her fingers teasing and prodding, driving Rio closer and closer to the edge. The sound of Rio’s ragged breathing, her desperate pleas, fueled Agatha’s hunger, pushing her to consume every inch of her wife.

"You’re so good, mi amor," Rio rasps, her voice thick with unbridled lust, her head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut. "God, Agatha, you suck my cock so good, your mouth feels so fucking good. So wet, so tight. You’re a fucking goddess, baby."

Agatha pauses for a moment, her gaze lifting to meet Rio's. Her lips, slick and swollen, curve into a dangerous smile. "I know, baby," she purrs, her voice a low, throaty rumble that sends shivers down Rio’s spine. "And you’re going to come inside my mouth. I’m going to swallow every last drop of you." She deepens her suction, her tongue swirling around the head, her fingers tightening on Rio’s clit and slipping from her ass, thrusting deeper into her wet cunt, hitting a spot that makes Rio groan, her hips bucking down furiously. Agatha gags with each thrust, the tears in her eyes only fueling Rio. Rio stutters for a beat, looking deeply into Agatha’s eyes, a silent question between them. Agatha tightens her grip on her wife’s ass, telling her she’s alright, don’t stop. Rio’s eyes fall closed and her head dips again, her fingers splaying on the back of her wife’s head, pumping into her again.

"Fuck, yes, Agatha!" Rio cries out, her body trembling violently. "God, I’m so close, baby. So close. You’re going to make me come all over you." Her fingers tangle in Agatha’s hair, pulling gently, but with a fierce urgency. "Take it all, baby. Take all of me."

Agatha matches her urgency, her mouth working faster, harder, a primal hunger driving her. She swallows every inch of Rio’s strap, her throat working rhythmically, her fingers on Rio’s clit circling with a relentless, exquisite torment.

"Agatha!" Rio screams, her voice a ragged, broken sound as her body stiffens, a violent shudder rippling through her. "Oh, God! FUCK!" She comes with a guttural roar, her hips thrusting down. Agatha pulls away from the strap, her lips popping with its release. Her hand grips the shaft and her head dips beneath just as Rio empties herself into Agatha’s waiting mouth, her entire body convulsing in a blinding, consuming orgasm. Agatha’s mouth is warm, sucking relentlessly on her wife’s clit. Rio hikes her leg up, her foot finding purchase on Agatha’s shoulder, giving Agatha a better angle. Agatha hums in appreciation, her other hand wrapping tightly around the lifted leg, stabilizing her wife above her. She laps at her wife’s orgasm until Rio’s shudders begin to subside, leaving her breathless and utterly spent, leaning heavily on the edge of the footboard.

Agatha looks up, her eyes still heavy with the remnants of desire, and a slow smile spreads across her lips. Rio lowers her leg from Agatha’s shoulder; her legs, now shaking uncontrollably, finally give out, and she sways precariously. Agatha quickly rises, her hands finding Rio’s waist, steadying her.

"Easy there, daddy," Agatha purrs, her voice still husky.

Rio leans into Agatha, her forehead resting against her wife’s shoulder, a breathless chuckle rumbling in her chest. "God, Agatha," she whispers, her voice a little hoarse, "you’re going to be the death of me."

Agatha laughs, a soft, rich sound that sends a fresh wave of warmth through Rio. She reaches behind Rio, her fingers deftly unbuckling the harness. The soft thud of the strap as it falls to the floor feels like a punctuation mark on the intensity they’d just shared. Rio straightens, a sigh escaping her lips, and turns to face Agatha fully, her eyes still blown wide with lingering pleasure, but now alight with amusement.

"You’re ridiculous," Rio says, her hands cupping Agatha’s face, her thumbs tracing the faint flush on her cheekbones.

"And you loved every second of it," Agatha retorts, a playful glint in her eyes.

They both dissolve into soft laughter, a release of the coiled tension, a shared acknowledgment of the wild, uninhibited passion that still flared between them after all these years. It was a laughter filled with desire, with contentment, and with the deep, abiding love that tethered them together.

Rio pulls Agatha closer, pressing a soft, tender kiss to her lips. "Come on, mi amor," she murmurs, her voice soft with affection. "Let’s go clean up."

They walk hand in hand to the bathroom, the dim light now illuminating the aftermath of their passion. The air thick with the scent of sex, a testament to the storm that had passed. Without a word, they began the familiar ritual of cleaning up. Rio picked up the harness, methodically washing the strap under the warm water, her movements practiced and efficient. Agatha reached for a fresh washcloth, gently wiping away the traces of their lovemaking from her thighs, a soft hiss escaping her lips as the material brushed against her raw bud. They move around each other in comfortable silence, their bodies still humming with the echoes of their shared release. Once clean, they step into their closet, each reaching into their respective dresser drawers – Rio pulling on a pair of boxers and a soft, worn tank top, and Agatha slipping into an old worn t-shirt of Rios and nothing else. Dressed, they turn off the lights in the bathroom, leaving the room in darkness. 

Back in the bedroom, the music, now a gentle murmur, still plays. Agatha lets Rio lead her, their steps a slow, synchronized rhythm. They move towards the bed, the dim lights of the room casting long, playful shadows around them, a testament to the night’s beautiful chaos. They climb into bed, the cool sheets a welcome contrast to the lingering heat in their bodies. Rio pulls her wife close, “Alexa, turn off the lights and the music.” She slings her arm possessively over Agatha’s waist, and her wife nestles against her, her head resting on Rio’s shoulder. The rhythm of Rio’s breathing was a soothing balm, and Agatha could feel the last vestiges of tension drain from her body. The night was quiet again, a peace settling over them. 

"Today was nice, watching you with Nicky. Giving me some time alone," Agatha murmurs, her fingers idly tracing the strong line of Rio's bicep.

Rio hums in agreement, her lips pressing a soft kiss to Agatha's hair. "Yeah. Our kid is pretty hilarious. He’s an inquisitive little shit. And you… you were pretty amazing too." Her voice was a low rumble, filled with a contented exhaustion.

Agatha chuckles softly. "He really does have your laugh. And my stubbornness, apparently."

"Rio groans playfully. "Don't remind me. He's going to be trouble, that one." But the affection in her voice was undeniable. "Did he really tell you he wasn't special because he didn't have a pet?"

"He did," Agatha confirms, stifling a yawn. "I told him we'd talk about it. I have a feeling we're getting a pet soon." Agatha's mind drifts to the farmers market, to the little rabbit hutch she always stops at, enchanted. Perhaps a fluffy, twitchy-nosed addition is exactly what they need.

Rio chuckles, pulling Agatha closer. "Probably. I'm not too proud to admit he's got me wrapped around his little finger. It's a good thing he's so fucking cute."

A comfortable silence settles between them, broken only by their soft breaths. Agatha's Thoughts drift back to how Rio had held her earlier, the distant look in her eyes after that tough call. "Last night clearly got to you," she murmurs, "but you did so well today, my love. You always do." She laces her fingers with Rio's. "I can't pretend to understand what you go through on those difficult calls. I think about some of the things you've told me, and I honestly don't know how you compartmentalize it all—how you deal with such grief and still come home to us, still completely yourself. You're amazing, honey. We love you so much."

Rio sighs, a soft, weary sound. "It was... a bad one. But coming home to you two... it makes it all worth it." Her arm tightens around Agatha, pulling her even closer, as if to absorb the lingering comfort. "I love you, mi amor."

"I love you too, daddy," Agatha whispers, the word a soft secret shared between them. The exhaustion of the day, of pleasure, of parenthood, settles over them like a warm blanket. Their breaths even out, and soon, the rhythmic rise and fall of Rio's chest is the only sound Agatha hears as sleep claims them both.

Sometime in the quiet hours of the night, Agatha stirs. The bed feels cold and empty beside her, she reaches out, her hand finding only cool sheets. A soft frown touches her lips as she blinks against the dim light streaming in through the blinds, listening. The house is silent, save for the gentle hum of the ceiling fan.

A familiar maternal instinct nudges her, and she pushes herself up, padding barefoot across the cool floor of their bedroom and into the darkened hallway. The faint glow of a nightlight guiding her steps toward Nicky’s room. She pauses in the doorway, her heart swelling with a profound tenderness at the scene before her.

Rio sits in the rocking chair by the window, silhouetted against the soft glow of the moon. Nicky, wrapped in his favorite blanket, a small bundle of comfort, is cradled against her chest, his head tucked beneath her chin. Rio’s eyes are closed as she gently strokes Nicky’s back in slow, calming circles. The soft murmur of her voice, low and soothing, fills the quiet room. Agatha can’t make out the words, but the cadence was enough—a lullaby of reassurance.

Nicky sniffles softly, then nestles deeper into his Mami's embrace, his little body relaxing as the gentle rocking continues. Rio’s eyes open lazily as she presses a kiss to his hair, her gaze upon him, filled with a quiet, watchful love.

Agatha leans against the doorframe, a wave of overwhelming love washing over her. This was it. This was their life. The chaotic days, the fierce passions, the quiet moments of shared comfort, the unwavering love that bound them together, a family. Watching Rio, strong and tender, holding their son through the fear of a nightmare, Agatha felt a deep, abiding gratitude. She had chosen well. They had built something beautiful. Her chest ached with the fullness of it, a quiet, blissful ache. She stayed there for a long moment, simply watching, before turning silently and returning to the warmth of their bed, already anticipating Rio’s return.

Agatha nestled deeper against her pillow, the quiet of the room a gentle current carrying her thoughts. Her mind, still warm from the recent intimacy and the deep contentment of the night, drifts effortlessly to images of their future. She imagines another child, a tiny bundle of new life, growing within her. Rio, her unwavering rock and ardent lover, would be even more devoted, if that were possible. She pictures soft kisses pressed to her swollen belly, gentle murmurs of adoration whispered against her skin, the exquisite attention Rio paid to her every need during pregnancy, transforming every discomfort into a shared journey of love and anticipation. Their home, already brimming with Nicky’s boisterous joy and the quiet hum of their shared life, would expand, filled with more laughter, more tiny footsteps, more overwhelming love. The idea of their family growing, of another little face mirroring either her own or Rio's, filled her with a deep sense of purpose and joy.

She smiled into her pillow, a quiet thought blooming in her mind: maybe, after some conversations with her wife, sometime soon, she would get to call Rio "daddy" again, and this time, it wouldn’t be just in their bed.