The Ever After (4)
Relationship: Agatha Harkness x Reader
Summary: Agatha is getting more thirsty for the reader. Billy hears something.
The 50s
The 60s
The 70s
The 80s
Agatha laid her confusion to rest when she realized Wanda just pressed rewind on the whole town.
As she’s sitting in the backseat of the Vision’s family car, she thought back to your glitch moment. It looks like the town is on the fritz when Wanda is under stress - more so if it’s labor. The witch did not know if she was relieved that your memory slipped just because of the anomaly, or scared that you would remember her. She decided it was the former.
The new parents decided to bring their kids to a Westview resort for a little rest and recreation. Wanda also reasoned that they should celebrate five years’ worth of birthdays. The kids did nothing but cheer and zoom around their house before their departure, a fact known by Agatha since she can hear them all the way down to her basement.
“Aunt Agnes,” the 5-year-old twins rushed to hug her when she met up with them on their front lawn. Kids are a lot better when they’re not touching her, she thought to herself.
“How are my cute, oh so cute, boys?” She pinches their cheeks which made them giggle.
Billy continued clinging to her while his twin answered, “I’ve got my floaties, Auntie.” Tommy reached for his inflatable donut and presented it to her. She pretended to be surprised as if she has not seen those so many times. Not two minutes into the trip but she’s already losing energy to deal with them. How are they so energetic? They’re only 9 hours old!
“Are we ready to have some fun in the sun?” Wanda cheered as she approached their car. Agnes feigned excitement and joined the kids in squealing.
Vision eagerly loaded their luggage in the car and asked everyone to hop in. They all ran and took their seats, the nosy neighbor sandwiched between the kids on the back seat.
---
Their vehicle came to a stop when they reached the resort near the edge of town. Bringing the whole family here is pretty bold for the young ingenue, Agatha thought to herself. She decided it’s not up to her to ensure their safety from the surrounding force field, she might even be the cause of its breakdown.
As the group walked inside the hotel, the kids who are full of energy once again zoomed around the hallways. Vision ran after them as Wanda took their keys from reception. Agnes trailed after her friend, making snarky comments about, you guessed it, her husband.
“Ralph insisted on staying home,” she puffed her now-era-appropriate curly hair while leaning close to Wanda, “says he’s not in a good mood to be under the sun.”
“Oh no,” the young witch said half-heartedly.
“One of these days, I’m going to poison him with garlic and kill the vampire man that I think he is,” she affirmed with a laugh. Agatha, of course, knows that the food condiment doesn’t really kill vampires. You do it with a stake to their heart, but Agnes is not supposed to know that.
“Maybe he’s just planning a surprise for you,” Wanda thought of all the sweet gestures Vision had prepared for her and smiled to herself. Always the romantic.
“Oh honeybun, the only way he can surprise me is if he washes his own dishes over the weekend,” Agnes was about to laugh at her statement when her eyes landed on a breathtaking Westview resident. “Speaking of surprises, who do we have here?” She called to the incoming figure, who immediately caught the flirty inflection in her voice.
“Wanda, Agnes,” you beamed at them, missing the way Agatha appreciated your view.
She watched as you approached them in the reception area, sunglass in your eyes and a summer drink on hand. Her eyes traveled from your head to toe, not missing the magenta one-piece swimsuit peeking through your black lace coverup. It was modest enough for the time period but not enough skin for the Salem witch.
“[Y/N], I didn’t know you were here?” Wanda wondered if she had somehow instructed her closest friends to come and follow her here. She’s still confused as to how everything works in her Westview.
“I needed a break from the mourning atmosphere in my house,” your attention darting between the two housewives, “so I decided to get some sun you know.” You took a sip from your drink, eyes meeting Agatha’s.
“By the looks of it, you can definitely get it,” Agnes winked and continued to hold your gaze, smirking at the spit take you did with your drink.
“Agnes, you’re so naughty,” Wanda remarked, still not used to the flirty and forward nature of her friend. It made her remember Natasha, who was also flirty but for mission purposes. Agnes, on the other hand, uses it for fun which was definitely refreshing.
The young witch wondered what her life would be like if she had met Agnes and you before all of this. Would you have been friends the same way? Traces of fear crept into her mind when she realized the two of you would either be dead because of her or loathe her. She feels like she’s found her tribe here, just like she did with the Avengers, but that too ended the same way: losing the ones she loved and fighting with the ones she cared for.
She shook the feeling and focused on what was in front of her: Vision running around with their kids, friends who get her and are always beside her, and a town where she belongs.
---
Settling in her room, Agatha can’t help but feel excited for her weekend. She’s spending time to know Wanda’s powers and she can keep you safe beside her. It’s as if this town is working in her favor. Or maybe Wanda is just an excellent scriptwriter.
The witch was putting on her swimsuit, careful not to wear anything out of this time period when a knock from the door took her out of her reverie. She tried to determine who the person was but somehow her magic can’t identify who it is. Taking one last look in the mirror, making sure she’s still the hottest witch in town, she opened the door. It definitely showed on her face how surprised she was to see the woman who’s been plaguing her dreams recently.
“Wanda said I’d find you here,” your face scrunched up with a smile.
“I didn’t know you were aching to see me.” Agnes pouted cheekily which made you smile even more.
“I was just going to ask you a favor.” She stepped aside, letting you into her room. “I don’t think aching is the word I would have used.”
After closing the door, she turned to you and asked, “And what would you use, baby?” Her voice was low and sounded like a challenge. You opened your mouth, thinking of a reply, but no words come out. You blame it on the heat on your cheeks when she called you ‘baby.’
Agatha surely did not miss the sudden redness
“Can you let me finish?” you ask in between giggles.
You noticed how Agnes’s eyes darken, solely looking at you. It’s like watching a predator set its sights on its prey. You two were stuck in a staring match, both unwilling to first let go, when she stepped forward pinning you against the door.
“That depends, sweetie.” Her closeness clouding all your senses, “will you beg for it?”
You remained still against the door, feeling the heat consuming your body and the stark contrast of the cold golden metal on your ring finger. You tried to gather your thoughts, clearing your throat.
“I think we have very different ideas of what favor means,” you say as you try to remain upright. The lack of distance between you two makes you wanna fall directly into her arms.
Agatha gave you a once over before replying, “I bet we do.” She grinned, placing a hand on your waist, seeing how unsteady you have become in the past minute.
“Okay,” you pushed Agnes lightly to regain space, “I just came to ask if you want to get a massage downstairs because they said couples can avail of it for a discounted price. Wanda and Vision are getting it and I was supposed to get it but Herb sort of bailed on me.”
You were visibly catching your breath when you saw jealousy paint Agnes’ face.
The Salem Witch felt a pang of pain run through her, especially with the idea of Herb wooing you. She wanted to claim her territory right there and then. She can just push you to the bed or have her way with you against this very door. Any way to remind you that only she can touch you best. She was taken out of her thoughts when you shook her body a little.
“Did you hear me, Agnes?”
It was her turn to gather her thoughts, to remove the images of you deep in pleasure that only she can cause.
“Yes,” Agnes smiled, trying to regain the upper hand in the conversation, “massage downstairs.” You nodded as she continued. “What about Herb?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t seen him since…” you trailed off, trying to make sense of the gap in memory you’re just realizing. When did you last see the guy?
Agatha can see the confusion you’re currently wrestling with, no doubt caused by the unstable magic of the young redhead and her affinity for sitcoms.
“So should we go downstairs and get this massage train going?” Your neighbor enthusiastically reeling you back in reality. She offered her hand and you accepted. You both strut down the hallway, all care thrown into the wind.
You also passed by the twins' room, where Billy is in distress about the voices he keeps on hearing. They all scream one thing: he’s coming.
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Once upon a time, there was a cave, and there was a tree.
Oh, that's not how most people like to start to tell the story. The thing about telling stories is that it's often easiest to start from the ending. From tumbling down cliffsides and rings of cactus and dying just barely out of reach of your king, just barely after him. Of things constantly burning, of the first time being the first to die, of bunkers in the desert and a group of five standing around an enchanting table, waving a flag. Of clocks, and betrayals, and things that weren't actually betrayals (even though they seem like they should be), of firing squads--
That is not how the story starts.
It doesn't even start with a creeper, although I would guess if you asked them about it, more than one of them would probably say it did.
No, if I were to tell the story, I would tell it like this:
Once upon a time, there was a cave. Everyone had gathered in it, with crafting tables and beds. They were being attacked by phantoms. They're chatting about how to solve the phantom problem, because they are friends. They step outside to kill the phantoms, because they can, and because it's funnier, and because they don't know how to be afraid yet.
Once upon a time, there is a tree. It grows right under one of them, trapping them in its branches. "Help!" she cries out. "What's happened?" Everyone scrambles to help cut down the tree together. When she escapes, they all agree it was a close call. It would be awfully silly, they think, for someone to die this soon, and besides, aren't they all working together?
They go back inside and they laugh. They are all green. None of them have an idea of what happens when they aren't any longer. They are all happy.
This changes. It also doesn't.
I start this story with the tree because they all, together, agree that the tree is ridiculous and silly, but all help to cut it down anyway. I start this story with the tree because by the end--
Well. My point is that the tree is a far happier story, in my opinion. My point is also, maybe, that starting with what it would become, well, that won't do at all. Starting with the part of the story that's sad, dramatic, ridiculous--that rather misses the point.
The point is that it started with a cave, and a tree, and everything else came collapsing down after it. It's easy to bury the memory of a time it would be safe to all hide in a cave together, laughing, and save one another from a tree.
It does not do to forget.
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“It’s happening,” crows Dustin. “Eddie, it’s happening, it’s happening, she said yes!”
Eddie blinks up at him from the blankets. “Is…this about your little girlfriend, Henderson?” Is there a school dance coming up or something? Wait, it’s the summer, school’s not happening.
In a just world, Eddie Munson would never have to think about high school again; in a just world, Dustin Henderson would not have woken him up by breaking into his trailer at ass o’clock in the morning.
“No, man, Erica! Erica Sinclair! She’s gonna run a My Little Pony game for us!”
“Okay.” Eddie turns over to bury his face in his pillow. “Lock up when you leave,” he says, muffled.
———
He honest-to-god thinks it’s just a weird dream for the next few days. He’s almost completely forgotten about it when Mike corners him at work.
“You have to make her stop,” Mike says.
“Okay, Wheeler, two things. First: who am I making stop what? Second: I’m not making anyone stop anything. Really not my style, and also, I don’t wanna get involved in whatever this is.”
“You’re already involved! We’re all involved! We’re all, like, liable.”
“Right.” Eddie wipes his hands on a rag and ambles over. “Kid, you have got to start giving me some context here. What are we talking about?”
Mike gives him just the absolute bitchiest eyeroll any human being has ever mustered in the history of the world, and sighs noisily. “Erica wants to run a stupid game, and Dustin keeps encouraging her. Tell Erica and Dustin that we play Dungeons and Dragons with like, cool monsters and shit. Not some stupid game about ponies. It’s not even D&D, it’s a whole new stupid system that she’s making us learn.”
“Oh, shit.” There’s—a few things to unpack in that little speech, but Eddie can’t help the delighted grin spreading over his face. “That’s for real? The pony game? Shit, this is going to be the best thing ever. What system is she planning to run the campaign in?”
“Oh my god,” says Mike, and storms out of the garage.
———
“GURPS: Generic Universal Role-Playing System,” announces Erica, slamming the books down on Steve’s kitchen table. “A flexible, multi-purpose, setting-agnostic system that can accommodate any conceivable type of story or play style. This is the future of role-playing games, not your broke-ass fantasy bullcrap.”
Eddie wonders how complicated it is to file paperwork for adoption.
“Some of us like D&D,” says Will.
“Yeah, we don’t want your stupid generic whatever. We’re not playing,” Mike snaps.
“That’s not what I said.” Will looks annoyed with Mike, which has been happening a lot lately. Eddie’s glad the kid seems to be growing more of a spine; you can’t just let your tragic heterosexual crushes walk all over you, but that’s the kind of lesson every young gay needs to learn the hard way. “I’m fine with trying something new. I’m just saying, the next campaign after this should be D&D.”
“Sure, what-ever, nerds,” drawls Erica. “We’ll see how you feel after you experience the magic of Ponyland.”
Lucas puts his face in his hands when she says the magic of Ponyland and lets out a pitiful groan.
“Whoo!” cheers Dustin. “Let’s get started!”
———
It takes them a solid two hours to make their characters. Even Eddie, who’s been vaguely aware of GURPS since it was released a couple years ago, is struggling a little to adapt. It’s just been a while since he played anything but D&D, but he’s enjoying the change of pace. He likes this kind of challenge; it’s like figuring out how to play a familiar song in an unfamiliar genre.
Erica is not especially patient with them, but she’s clearly done her prep work, so Eddie thinks they all manage to get through the character creation process more or less the way it’s supposed to be done.
Steve gets back from work right when they’re putting the finishing touches on their characters. The way he blinks all sweetly confused makes Eddie think that Dustin was definitely lying about having permission to play here, and also that Dustin probably has a very troubling stash of keys to all their homes squirreled away somewhere.
“If I may, Lady Sinclair, I’d like to humbly suggest a ten-minute break?” Eddie says, before Steve can decide whether or not to be mad about this whole thing.
“Sure, go ahead and rest up while you still can,” says Erica. “Steve, I hope you got good snacks around here.” She makes a beeline for the kitchen, and the boys trip over themselves to follow her.
“I would die for that child,” says Eddie.
Steve laughs, low and a little tired. “Yeah. Um, me too.”
“So, I’m gonna go ahead and guess that Henderson didn’t actually clear this with you?”
“Honestly, I’m not sure.” Steve runs a hand through his hair. “He might’ve said something last week? Sometimes when he’s on a tear, I just kinda let him talk.”
“Y’know, we’re at a pretty good stopping point for today, if you want us to clear out so you can get some rest.” Eddie can see the smudgy shadows under Steve’s eyes from halfway across the room.
“No, it’s fine.” Steve peels off his vest. He’s wearing an entire perfectly normal shirt underneath, so there’s no reason for Eddie to hastily avert his eyes like Steve’s doing a damn striptease. “I might go take a nap, though. Gonna trust you not to let them burn down the place, got it?”
Eddie does a silly little salute. “Aye aye, cap’n. No hint of flame shall breach these walls.”
Steve laughs again, a gravelly chuckle, and musses Eddie’s hair on his way to the stairs.
“Why do you have that dumb look on your face,” says Erica suspiciously, standing in the kitchen doorway and clutching the biggest bowl of ice cream Eddie’s seen in his life.
“What look, there’s no look,” says Eddie. “Let’s play some GURPS.”
Edit: now a complete fic on AO3!
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