#Agatha: darkhold diaries

[ellastone-olsen]

trying new brushes

[the-scarlet-witch-22]

Oh, Agatha Harkness. The things I’d let you do to me

[lanfear-is-my-darkmistress]

I'm rewatching Wandavision and can we just take the time to appreciate Agatha's acting skills when she was fooling Wanda. That takes TRUE dedication. Because personally I wouldn't have lasted through all that.

[hahnsplaza]

“i like bad boys” 👀 the “bad boy” in question

[pigeonp0st]

Could you do an angst Agatha x reader one shot with happy ending? Maybe reader feels Agatha is losing interested in her (reader) in Westview

pleaseeeeeeee

Agatha Harkness x Reader

Warnings:

Can’t think of any, but if you read this and have a thought to one I could put, let me know and it will be added.

Words from the author;

Hi guys. Went on a long train ride and decided to write this. Agatha’s show inspired me. The joy she gives me is unmatched. I want to ask that we all use are imagination and pretend WestView was a thing longer than the few weeks it was, as to give an explanation and a sense of realism to Readers and Agatha’s whole romance and love story. I also ask that we ignore the additional emotional scarring that would’ve given the town. Thanks a bunch! Now…

Enjoy!

—

Agatha had a plan. A plan that hadn’t, and was never supposed to include you. It had everything to do with Wanda, and Wanda, it turns out, had everything to do with you.

That part of it hadn’t mattered. Yeah, Agatha had originally only been prepared to deal with one Avenger, and you coming in would prove to make things more complicated, but she was sure she could handle it.

And she had, of course. Until…until she developed a relationship with you and emotions towards you that went beyond the limits of what she had planned. Not just plannned for this little mission of hers, but planned for her life—after how her last relationship ended.

She loves you. Wanda’s Maximoff’s best friend. The one that’s been keeping Wanda from going even more off into the dark end. The one that’s been interfering with Agatha’s plans by trying to pull Wanda out of the Hex before Agatha has delved deeper into the amount of magic needed to create it.

You. Infuriating— you. Since the moment she met you it was like you had seen through all of Agatha’s facades. Not just the Agnes one.

She made a point—a stupid emotional driven point—to be honest with you, and only you, from the beginning. The thing is… though she had even told you about her interest in Wanda, and the hex, she had left out her plans of draining Wanda of her powers and killing her.

Which is probably an important thing to mention

…Which is definitely an important thing to mention. As much as Agatha hates to admit it— and she absolutely hates to admit it— it’s been eating away at her.

More than she doesn’t want to lose you, she doesn’t want to hurt you. Well, that’s not completely true…she’d rather not lose you…but it’s a close competition.

This relationship with you was supposed to be fake, but her heart doesn’t seem capable of understanding that. She’s been pulling away from you, acting distant, avoidant, and just as it’s been hard on you—it’s been hard on her.

She can’t imagine a world without you in it, but she needs this power…needs to see if it’s capable of—ahem, anyways— she just needs it. She’s sure you need Wanda similarly. That you can’t imagine a world without her. That’s what the gossip magazines, twitter posts, or even tumblr fanfictions want to guilt Agatha into believing at least.

She’s bitter, hates with a burning passion how much the world likes to advertise you and Wanda as this amazing duo pair, hates even more how unknowing fans like to speculate on some sort of secret affair you’re helping Wanda commit, but she’s willing to admit to some truth in it;

Agatha’s supposed to be very fake relationship, used at first to only get close to Wanda—to learn and kill her—has turned into a real one, and the very person she’s in love with is Wanda Maximoff’s platonic soulmate.

The guilt,and thus; avoidance and emotional distance doesn’t take long to be noticed by you. It all comes to a head rather viciously in a way Agatha had expected.

Which is to say; all the avoidance has led to a rather ceremonious break up….she hadn’t had the guts to do it, so she’s sort of forced you into it. That’s what you believe, and it is the truth. Not in the way she guesses you expect though.

Agatha doesn’t want to do this. She really struggles doing things she doesn’t want to do.

She has to do this though. It’s what she’s convinced herself of.

It aches.

“If that’s what you want, okay. Now If that’s really all you had to say…” Agatha hints, turning to make her tea so you can’t see the way her eyes water and betray her, “well have a safe trip home, and don’t forget your things dear.”

“I am not going to beg you to want me.”

Agatha’s jaw tenses. Her heart feeling heavier than anything she’s ever carried. She wants to scream, to break all of the windows in the room. Wants to say, desperately; I have never not wanted you. I have never wanted to be worthy of anything more.

You’re good. Good in way Agatha’s never been capable of. You’re nothing she expected, but everything she’s wanted, and it hurts more, somehow, like this.

Because she can’t give you everything you want, and as that fact kills you, it kills her too.

Agatha glances over her shoulder and looks at you. Your eyes are brimming with tears, you’re shaking with emotion. With the urge to fight. There is a large part of you, Agatha guesses, that knows Agatha doesn’t want this. Conscious or not. She turns away again.

“I know that’s what you want, for me to beg, but I won’t, not anymore. I can’t,” you whisper.

“Then don’t,” she growls, and then winces because even as she’s turned away she can picture the way you wince. The way you hurt.

All Agatha wants to do is protect you, but it’s like no matter what she does you’ll end up hurt. She’s been pulling away slowly so that when she ends up betraying you to kill Wanda, hopefully it’ll hurt less. All it seems to be doing though is prolonging the pain for the both of you. It’s clear to the both of you the war that’s happening in each of you. The want to fight for this. It’s what makes this worse.

“Don’t”, you repeat with a scoff. Agatha hears it right next to her ear and startles, turning around sharply.

You’re standing right behind her, looking down at her with fiery eyes. Agatha moves to use her magic, but you grab her wrist to stop the thought. It makes her heart skip a beat. Makes her smirk.

She loves you. Loves you always, and wants you just as much when you look at her like you are now. You must sense it because you immediately let go of her wrist, with a look of confusion.

“Do you want me or not?” You ask harshly. And despite herself Agatha can’t help the small flicker of annoyance that crosses her face. Annoyance directed at herself.

She masks it a second later with a smirk, gripping your chin. “Of course I do,” Agatha purrs, her voice dripping with seduction. You tense. Eyeing her with complete betrayal.

When Agatha had imagined the moment in which she betrayed you (and she had imagined it a lot), it hadn’t gone like this. It had gone with her standing over the Scarlet Witch, your best friend, and you frozen a couple feet away.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this, but it’s better this way. For you to realize who she is now, rather than later. She needs Wanda’s abilities, and she’ll do anything to get it. She thinks it to herself, and it’s almost like a reminder. ‘She’ll do anything to get it.’

You hold her wrist so gently though, even as your eyes blaze with all type of hurt, and Agatha feels deeply who she’s hurting. She’s hurting you. Her love. Her heart. “My heart,” Agatha says gently, and to you she imagines it’s a stab in the heart from the way you wince. Agatha’s face drops further. “I want you,” she admits, despite herself, finding herself not capable of hurting you like this.

“Then why…?”

Agatha kisses you suddenly on the corner of the mouth. Gently. Perhaps she shouldn’t have let her mask drop, because now it seems impossible to put back on. It feels real the moment she stops playing pretend…what a surprise. Still, she herself feels vulnerable. Like a puppy just waiting to get kicked. As she feels both her and your despair she feels a wave of self loathing too.

“Down the road Wanda’s going down now she will hurt you. Down the road I’m doing down, I will too.” Agatha whispers, tucking your hair behind your ear. “When I told you I was going to take her power, I meant I was going to kill her, baby.”

Agatha doesn’t expect the laugh you release at that, but more than that she doesn’t expect the simple way you leave. Her hand hands in the air where you once were, as if she had dreamed the memory of you.

It wasn’t supposed to go like this.

—-

It wasn’t supposed to go like this. Couldn’t have gone any worse. Every expectation Agatha has—every time she thinks she can predict what will happen you manage to change everything.

That blast was for Wanda, but you had jumped in front of it like it was your plan from the start. It stops both her and Wanda instantly. The blast would have sent you flying into the house, but Agatha had reacted quickly enough with her magic to prevent the collision. Still, as soon she drops the magic holding you, and begins running towards you, you fall.

Agatha sees it a slow motion but she knows it happens much faster than that, because she’s running with everything in her and still doesn’t make it before your head hits the ground. “My heart, my heart, my heart,” Agatha begs with a trembling voice. Her hands are shaking but she moves your head onto her lap and presses her hands into your side to try and stop the bleeding.

Why did it have to be this spell that hit you. Why did it have to be any? It’s been hundreds of years since her heart has hurt like this. Her mind whirls for a spell, for an anything. All she can do is slow the bleeding, and she does, but you still look up at her with fading eyes, and it kills Agatha.

“Ag-”

“Shh, lovely. It’s going to be okay,” Agatha whispers to you, kissing your head. She doesn’t even notice Wanda’s hand on her shoulder, or her coming up behind her at all.

“I’m transporting us to a Hospital,” Wanda says, looking uncertain and scared. Agatha pays no mind, just takes Wanda’s hand and guides her through the spell with her magic.

“Agatha,” you force out, Agatha returns your gaze, too distracted by the spell to stop you again. “Was power…was it that much more important?”

Suddenly you’re all in the hospital, your eyes are falling shut, and Wanda is shouting for a doctor. “No,” Agatha answers. brushing your hair back. Her chest aches deeply at the streak of blood her hand leaves. She wants to say more, wants to curse at you a bit, just to let it out, but a bunch of medics push Agatha to the side and start touching you.

It’s been a long time since Agatha felt this helpless. She wants to protect you, wants to insert herself into the commotion as the doctors pull you away and command that she gets to stay with you, but she’s scared to take even a split second away from their saving.

She’s paralyzed, watching as they roll you away out of her sight. Wanda, of all people, rests a hand on her shoulder, snapping her out it. “She’ll be okay,” Wanda assures, even as she sounds uncertain.

Agatha can’t bear it any longer. The uncertainty, and the assurance coming from the person she envies the most. She turns on her suddenly, eyes blazing with magic, and this is no longer about stealing Wanda’s magic. This is about Agatha, wanting to grab Wanda by the neck and shout that this is all her fault.

Except it isn’t. It’s her own fault. It was her magic that hit you. Hers that caused you so much pain. Agatha feels the blame so deeply she almost refuses to hold it. For your sake, for your words; was it that much more important? She decides to.

She sags into herself just as suddenly as she had turned towards Wanda, one hand waves her off, and the other presses against the burning in her eyes. “Leave.” Agatha says, her voice hoarse and emotional. And Wanda doesn’t.

She just tilts her head and looks at Agatha like a sad, lost animal. Wanda has no where to return to, not after the scandal she pulled, and the one person who would have probably accepted her (the one person that accepted Agatha herself) is now in a hospital bed.

Agatha sighs.

——

They’re sitting side by side. Agatha threatens to kill the front desk lady 3 times, but never once does she threaten to kill Wanda. Agatha doesn’t mind her. She understands the feeling inside her more than Wanda will ever know. In another life, she would have been her teacher.

If you survive, perhaps in this life too. If she can’t take Wanda’s power, maybe she’s able to watch and learn from it as much as she can.

Agatha can’t believe she’s giving up…she has planned and studied for this for so long…but she’s always been spontaneous, always been ready to plan and shift, always been good at changing track. She’ll get what she wants. She’ll get it another way.

It’s a promise she makes herself, sitting in the waiting room of the hospital waiting to find out if the person she loves is still breathing. It’s a promise she makes herself sitting by the person she’s planned to kill since she first pieced together her ability. A promise she makes herself because it means she gets to have you.

—-

“Agnes?” A nurse calls.

Wanda looks at her, her face reading seriously?. Agatha pays no mind to it, she just sits up violently, and holds tightly onto Wanda’s arm.

—-

When Agatha walks into the room it’s like her heart starts back up again and she can breathe. You’re hurt, but you’re okay. Agatha is in shambles, and she won’t be able to sleep without reliving you bleeding out on the floor—but you’re okay.

She breathes out. Once, twice, then she’s crying; hit with the force of her emotion.

—-

POV Switch

—-

Everything hurts, but when the doctor lets Agatha in with Wanda following— for a moment it doesn’t. For a moment it’s Agatha, the woman you love, standing next to your best friend and not killing her.

Then Agatha is crying, and all you feel is concern. “Ag, lovely, are you hurt?” You ask, still full of drugs and delirious enough to be confused about it all.

Agatha who gave up on you. Agatha who you weren’t good enough for. Agatha who you love, who you could never meet the needs of. Agatha who put you in a hospital bed. Agatha who you love so fully despite the heartbreak she’s caused you.

It all comes back to you suddenly, but Agatha is crying— and none of any of it seems very significant compared to that. Wanda looks between the two of you, and says to you, softly, in a language only the two of you understand; “self-sabotage seems to be a language both me and this one speaks. You are drawn to damaged people, huh?”

You look down and Wanda laughs, but she looks like she also wants to cry. She opens her mouth to say something else, but you already know what she’s going to say so you cut her off. “It wasn’t your fault, Wanda, I am glad it was me and not you.”

Wanda looks like she wants to protest that, but instead she nods her head with tears in her eyes and whispers, after glancing at Agatha, “I’ll give you two privacy. Good luck.”

Then she leaves.

Agatha seems lost in her thoughts…well lost in something. Her eyes are distant, tears still running down her face. “Agatha.” It’s only a whisper but Agatha’s eyes snap towards you. She looks…terrified? She quickly tries to wipe her tears but more just fall.

“You idiot,” Agatha seethes, looking overwhelmed. She breathes heavily and you just let her, even as you bristle and begin to feel your defenses rise.

It’s probably best not to add wood to her fire, you think to yourself.

Agatha stalks towards you, angry, kisses your forehead and then sags into the chair next to your hospital bed. “You idiot,” she repeats shakily, her voice and face lined with a sort of devastation you don’t know how to comfort in her. “What do you think would’ve became of me if I killed you”Agatha presses. “Huh? Did you think before you—“

“Usually when people accidentally almost kill someone, they apologize instead of blaming the person.” You aren’t mad at Agatha, not for hitting you at least, but hearing her act as if you had been the one to fuck up was aggravating.

She fucked up. Not you. “You really think I was going to let you kill my best friend?” You ask, angry now too. “You really think I would’ve let you let me go for some stupid reason like that? I don’t know why power is so important to you, but I support you. I would’ve supported you on finding another way, because I support you when you aren’t hurting innocent people to achieve your self motivated ends. I have given up a lot for you, Agatha, but I will not give up that.”

You release a coughing fit after that. You have more to say but your body won’t allow you to. You have an endless amount of words for Agatha. Agatha who you love. Agatha who you don’t quite know how to be enough for.

Agatha who grits her teeth and looks down. “I will not give up power for you. It is more than that I want, which is something I’m not able to explain to you right now, but I hope you understand,” Agatha pauses. Her eyes meeting yours. “I’m going to find another way. I won’t hurt Wanda. I won’t hurt anyone that will make you—or most humans flaky moral code— ache. By that, I mean anyone ‘innocent’” she uses hand quotes then, and rolls her eyes.

The mild bitterness is clearly something Agatha can’t help. The way she changes tract though was something you never thought she would do for you, and you’re not quite able to understand it.

“Why?” You ask softly. It’s what you want, of course it is, it’s even what you asked, but Agatha doesn’t do anything for other people, nothing if it doesn’t come with her own sort of personal gain.

As if reading your mind Agatha straightens awkwardly in her chair and says simply; “I love you. I don’t want to hurt or lose you.”

“But…but power is important to you.”

“So are you,” Agatha says, tilting her head.

You don’t know why you’re almost trying to convince her it’s more important, but perhaps it’s because you struggle to accept or fathom your own importance in her life. It feels like a fever dream, one you’re trying to pinch yourself to get out of.

If you believe it and then are disappointed, it hurts more than if you had never believed it at all.

“I’m sorry,” Agatha says, pulling you out of your thoughts. Not by her voice, but by the tears forming in her eyes. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I was so scared of my own affections for you I denied myself them, and in turn made you feel denied. I love you.” She repeats. “I love you, and you’re important to me, and there’s a billion things I’d sacrifice for you, and I never want to lose you, and—“

“I love you too,” you rush out, shocked by Agatha’s desperation and wanting to reassure her. Agatha breathes out heavily, a breath she must’ve been holding, and shakes her head at herself, wiping at her eyes.

This time, at the quickness of how she composes herself you don’t think of it as her not really caring, but instead as a defense mechanism she’s mastered. A part of your heart hurts for her.

“Thank you, Agatha. For trusting me with your heart.”

Agatha rolls her eyes at that, but she’s smiling and it’s all apart of her recovery. You let her have it. “My heart,” she sighs, leaning over to give you a lingering kiss. When she pulls away the both of you stare at each other. You, trying to commit this moment to memory. Agatha staring like she’s trying to be sure this is real.

“The witch is still mine,” Agatha whispers, completely breaking the moment. “If she thinks she’s off the hook for the amount of emotional instability she has, she has another thing coming. Unstable emotions and magic are never a good combo.”

You snort. Mumbling under your breath, “funny…just learned that lesson.” Agatha glares at you, just as Wanda walks in.

“If we’re all good now I think we should go,” Wanda rushes.

“What did you do?” Both you and Agatha question.

Wanda smiles nervously, surrounding the room in an aura of red magic.. someone walks over to the barrier of it and begins banging. You’re beginning to wonder if it’s a talent of witches to ruin your peace. Especially when about 4 more armed people start trying to shove themselves into the force field. And oh, there are the guns.

Agatha sighs very deeply, and you release a very dramatic groan. Wanda tilts her head sheepishly. “I should go. I released westview but looks like my consequences are still knocking at the door,” she says quietly.

Agatha agrees. “Yes, you should.” She pauses, most likely waiting and taking pleasure in the pointed look you give her. “I probably should go too though, there’s no telling how people want to paint a witch. Most likely another villain…maybe a hero after the scene we pulled. Still, I shouldn’t be in the public until I find out.”

“We’ll see you soon then, Y/N.”

You give them a look, a look that both Wanda and Agatha know to mean; are you absolutely batshit crazy? You don’t need to say it, but you do; “you two are not going anywhere without me.”

Agatha smirks, and Wanda smiles, then a wave of Wanda’s hand and the three of you are somewhere else much more safe. At least until the media and Avengers manages to get the media to unfairly paint what happened in westview as something much more innocent.

This new journey with the three of you should be…fun until then. At least you have your favorite people, and they have you.

[vidalswife]

The Raven & The Witch

Word Count: 2,104

pairing: agatha harkness/rio vidal, salem timeline.

Summary: A young witch is a witch alone, the journey to power is a long one, and many fear what they do not understand. Agatha Harkness is a witch many fear. Only at eighteen did she make her mark, and in-grave her reputation on those of the world. She was outcast, isolated, and ostracized. A young witch with no friends, no family, meets a girl in the woods as she attempts to discover the secret of a raven, which has been tailing her for months.

author's note: as the days have been passing, ive been wondering on agatha and rio's past. when rio said, "how long has it been agatha" followed by, "since you got your hands on the darkhold and hid behind all that dark magic?" it started to make me think about their past. so im writing rio and agatha in salem, depicting a young (not underage) love, and how it lead to their current hatred of one another. im estimating the length of this fanfiction to be up to eight chapters. there will be smut within the fanfiction however there is none in this first chapter. minors, DNI. i hope you guys enjoy it! <3

When a young witch turns eighteen, she is allowed into the Witch’s Ward. The Ward is not a simple place, it is a maze inside of an enchanted library, and it leads to the ancient books of magic that fuel a witch and her knowledge. In a single pre-established coven there must only be one witch permitted per the year, and as the case with most covens are, they usually have more than one witch whom on her eighteenth birthday is ready to ascend. The maze inside of this ancient institution is most known for its merciless challenges and low survival rate. Sometimes three, maybe four witch-kin will enter, and none will return. Other times, many will enter, and only the one will return. Once a witch survives The Ward, she no longer will face challenges within it, and it will be open with all of its knowledge to any that can survive. Witches of all kinds dream of beating The Ward, but few have actually done so.

There is a tale of a young witch, bright for her age, and powerful among her coven. She was the sole victor of the maze.. at least for a moment. You see, soon after she emerged victorious from the race into Coventry, another witch surfaced. The established coven had never heard of this happening before, so they did the best they could to determine a new admission. They deemed the witch with the least injuries the strongest, and decided that she would be their new sister, but what was to be left of the other witch? She had survived as well, but they could not push back her entry for another year, there were more witches who would grow and age. The answer came to the coven just as quickly as they had decided their winner. On one formidable and dark night, the young witch who had suffered most, filled with vengeance and hatred, did not let her adversary achieve victory over her, taking the matters of ascension into her own, corrupt hands.

By the morning, the witch who was deemed the weakest emerged as part of her coven, with the other young girl gone, and never seen again. For many years the sisters searched for her, or a sign that she had been alive, but there was no sign. The weaker witch became one of great renown, a symbol of darkness, of all that a witch should try not to be. Witches around the world thought her a witch killer, a murderer, and a maniac. They ostracized her, abandoned her, and ran in fear from her. The coven’s leadership couldn’t bear to outcast or kill the witch, as she was the daughter of their most honored, and were not entirely sure what had happened that night. So, they instead ignored her. It was a lonely road for a witch all alone, until of course, she wasn’t alone.

_______________________

Agatha woke with the sun, its immense warmth flowing through the unshaded window of her chamber. Her body squirmed and began to stretch, as her eyes fluttered open. Her hair was a disheveled mess, and she wore only her undergarments. Her room was quite empty, except for some books and a small wardrobe.

She looked around in disappointment at her stockhouse, a subtle sigh escaping her lips. She was no stranger to loneliness, for the last year she had been the outcast of her coven, and witches alike. They all thought her a monster, but they didn’t know. They’d never want to know the truth, and she’d never tell them. If she were to be believed a witch killer, she would be deemed so.

But of course, it was hard on a young girl to face isolation, so inside, she burned, and faded. More and more with each day the young brunette found herself tempted to fall away from witchkind.

She would follow the same routines, waking with the early morning light, looking around her depressing chambers, dressing, dining, being avoided, attending the ward for a lesson, dining, undressing, and then falling to slumber with the rise of the moon. She never dared try anything new, not until she saw the raven atop the chimney of her mother’s station. It was a small, dark creature, but the longer she stared, the longer something seemed different. The laughter of young children skewed her mind away from the animal, as she watched them play with the witches her age. She scoffed, turning in the opposite direction, and retreating to her chambers. She didn’t notice that the raven watched her as she paced away.

The next few days were the same as always, wake, dress, dine, shun, lesson, dine, undress, and slumber, except the raven seemed to follow her. At first she was unsure if it was the same winged animal as before, but its brown, humanlike eyes were impossible to mistake. It followed her into the next week, and it began to arise anger in the witch. What bird dares mock her? What creature dares to follow and disturb her?

The raven became a symbol of frustration for Agatha, a reminder that she was alone and peculiar.

It followed her for months, brown eyes staring into her soul at every chance.

On the eve of her birthday, she decided that she had enough of the raven and it’s foolishness. She would get rid of it for good, and finally be at peace, without those beautiful brown eyes watching her at every turn. She waited inside her chambers, eyes glued to the raven which stood motionless across from her abode. It for once, did not have her in its eyesight, and she reveled in the fact that she would finally outsmart the desperate creature. The bird rose from its spot, flying off into the treeline. Agatha thought it odd the raven did not watch her on this night as it did many nights before, but she was too overcome with pride to think it anything but a coincidence.

The next morning, she woke with the sun, a warm smile entrancing her lips. Today she would conquer the raven, and then, maybe things could be different for her. She reached for the woven bag that lay atop her wardrobe, placing her spellbook within it. She wanted to be prepared for her battle with the bird. Knowing that the forest was typically warmer in the spring months, she dressed in a thinner fabriced skirt that surpassed her ankles and a white long-sleeved button down blouse. She did not wear shoes, as it was un-witchlike to walk in a forest unless barefoot. Her dressing may be looked down upon, seeing as she was expected to a lesson later that afternoon and may not have time to redress, but she must be comfortable when she faces her opponent. As the bell sounded to commence dining, she set off towards the treeline, her woven bag thrown over her shoulder, and her hair free to the wind.

As she met the entrance of the forest, she looked up to the height of the trees, wondering if she would find the raven in its nest. Agatha turned her head, making sure her coven could not see her. When she deemed it clear, she stepped into the everlasting ecosystem of trees, bushes, and plants.

Her plan was clear, she would track the raven, kill it, and then return to her lesson. The brunette looked around before slipping her bag from her shoulder. She pulled from it her spellbook, opening it to the page illuminated by a string between parchment. On the page was an incantation that was supposed to help her find the bird. Agatha read it over multiple times, memorizing the pronunciation and chant of the spell.

‘Venator factus est venatus, anhelitus invenias quo capis, et te ad raptorem capias’

With a deep breath, she looked ahead to the ensemble of green and then closed her eyes as she began to recite the incantation, “Venator factus est venatus, anhelitus invenias quo capis, et te ad raptorem capias.” She inhaled, repeating, “Venator factus est venatus, anhelitus invenias quo capis, et te ad raptorem capias.”

A warmth spread in her body, and she opened her eyes, in which a flash of purple was clear. She knew the spell had worked. Almost immediately, a path was found. It had no markers, yet Agatha knew exactly where to go. She wrapped around trees and boulders, stepped over a fallen greenery, and walked up a short incline in the terrain. She focused only on the raven, her mind filled with nothing but the image of its obnoxious brown eyes.

The spell led her to a creek. It was dark, and looked green from the reflection of the treetops, but not only that, there was another person. She was floating in the water with her eyes closed. Agatha noticed her hair floating atop the water’s surface, almost depicting a root-like symbol. Her eyes trailed down to her face, she looked angelic and not only that, she looked asleep.

That wasn’t the only thing she noticed about the other. Her body was uncovered, and she was naked. Lily pads covered her breasts, and the water was far too dark to see much else. This sent a rising heat to the brunette’s cheeks, and she was sure they were red. The witch contemplated leaving and acting as if she didn’t see a thing in the woods, but it was too late. Almost as soon as she began to think such a thing, the woman in the water spoke.

“Enjoying the view?”

Agatha’s cheeks were as hot as the sun, she couldn’t move anything in the moment. Her brow furrowed as she noticed how the woman’s eyes remained closed, begging the question of how she knew of her presence.

The stranger chuckled, and Agatha debated casting a spell on her. Something about the woman felt familiar, she couldn't place what, but she could feel that this was not their first encounter. Agatha began to speak, sighing as the words came out, “I was just looking for a raven— and you happened to be in my way.”

She took note of how the stranger’s lips curled in a smirk, and how her brow furrowed, “Looking for a raven? How come?”

Agatha realized she probably sounded crazy, and she felt a need to explain. “I’ve been tracking this bird– it won't stop following me, and my spell led me to you” in almost an instant, the witch’s hand flew atop her mouth. She realized her mistake and looked at the woman in the water with ferocious, squinted eyes. She didn’t know what to say, but she hoped the stranger would deem her insane and drop the interaction.

To the brunette’s surprise, she didn’t.

Instead, she watched as the woman opened her eyes and stood in the creek. The lily pads fell from her nipples and she stood in front of the witch completely naked, water dripping down her neck, breasts, and stomach. Yet, this wasn’t what Agatha was most concerned with, instead, it was her eyes. They were brown and beautiful, like the raven’s. In fact, Agatha was sure her eyes were the same as the raven’s.

The brunette’s eyes remained locked onto the brown eyed girl. They did not falter not once, not even as the stranger began to rise from the water and inch closer to Agatha.

They were only a breath apart, the woman’s eyes still captured by the other pair. Agatha spoke, aware of their closeness, “You’re—” but she was cut off.

The stranger’s lips were on hers, and she cupped her hand on the witch’s cheek. Those beautiful brown eyes disappeared behind her eyelids, and so Agatha’s eyes shut too. She hesitated at first, but as the time grew, she became filled with hunger and desire.

Their lips clashed together and the woman’s other hand was now wrapped around Agatha’s waist. The witch’s hands wrapped around her neck, one ending up buried in her wet hair.

They only parted when their lungs couldn’t deny the need for air anymore, and when they did, their eye contact resumed as if it never faded. Agatha only stared at the woman in shock, but then, she smirked.

“I knew you’d come, Agatha” she said, which resulted in a head tilt from the witch.

“Who are you?” she asked, biting her lip as her eyes trailed from the stranger’s eyes to her perfect figure.

“I’m Rio Vidal.”

Agatha smirked, crossing her arms.

“You’re a green witch, aren’t you?”

[cissa-calls]

Countdown to Agatha: Day 795

Natasha: “So, are we just going to let her stay here? After all she’s done?”

Wanda: *sighs* “Look, I know it’s not ideal to have a power hungry, matricide commiting witch under this roof, but it’s safer to have her here rather than out there. At least now we can monitor her.”

Agatha, sat at the kitchen table in front of them: “You know I can hear you right?”

Natasha: “Obviously.” *turns to Wanda* “How can you feel safe with her here?! Not even to mention Y/N - we’re endangering them!”

Y/N: *sets down a tray of tea and scones* “Here we are Agatha! I apologize, we don’t have any tea leaves infused with the souls of the damned, but hopefully some fresh baked goodies will make up for it! How do you take your tea?”

Natasha: *horror* “Y/N! Get away from her!”

Y/N: “Why? She’s a guest!”

[galahaddraws]

"I stray not from the path, I hold Death's hand in mine"

Agatha x Rio

[watchnrant]

Agatha All Along Episode 5: Easter Eggs & References

Salem Seven’s Animal Transformations

A Nod to Their Classic Marvel Comics Powers

The Salem Seven, first introduced in episode 2, make their comeback in episode 5, appearing as different animals along the Witches Road before morphing into witches dressed entirely in black. Among these creatures are a fox, a crow, a snake, and others. This shapeshifting ability, allowing them to take on various forms, has its roots in the original Marvel Comics, where it was a well-known power of the Salem Seven.

Earth-616 Salem's Seven Member - Main Power

Thornn - Red horn-like projectiles

Gazelle - Super speed

Vakume - Wind manipulation

Vertigo - Nausea induction

Brutacus - Super strength

Hydron - Water cannon

Reptilla - Snake hands

The Salem Seven Are The Daughters Of Agatha Harkness' Original Coven

After Agatha Harkness and her crew open a portal to the Witches’ Road, the Salem Seven make their move, catching up to the group just before they reach the third trial’s base. Lilia Calderu and Rio Vidal are the only ones who truly grasp the twisted history of the Salem Seven. As Lilia lays it out, “When Agatha murdered her sister witches, she spared their young children.” Rio chimes in, “Yeah, and then they became a feral, hive-minded coven bent on revenge” 

The “sister witches” that Lilia mentions were Agatha’s original coven, the ones who turned on her, accused her of dark magic, and sent her to the stake. Classic Agatha—her past always has a way of coming back to haunt her.

Hexenbesen 

The Witches' Broom Spell

As the Salem Seven encircle them, Teen proposes a "hexenbesen," which turns out to be a spell for a witches' broom, granting the coven the ability to soar above the Witches' Road for a brief moment. The term "hexenbesen" hails from old German, meaning "witch's broom," and it’s amusing to witness the coven's resistance to this well-worn trope, especially as Patti LuPone's character, Lilia, points out how it's been "coopted by the holiday industrial complex." Nevertheless, there's a stunningly eerie scene of the coven gliding beneath a blood moon, evoking memories of classic witch-themed media like Disney's Hocus Pocus.

80s Sleepover Horror Vibes

A Summer Camp Throwback for Agatha’s Next Challenge

As Agatha and her coven dash into a cabin, they brace for their next challenge before the Salem Seven can catch up. Once again, they undergo a transformation, reminiscent of their previous escapades in Agatha All Along. This time, however, the atmosphere is steeped in a "summer camp horror movie" vibe. With an abundance of scrunchies and headbands in sight, Zamata's Jennifer Kale even sports a retainer, perfectly nailing the look.

Full Blood Moon & Spirits

Agatha’s Trial  & Talking to the dead  

As soon as the coven enters the trial house, the ominous full blood moon looms overhead, setting the tone for Agatha’s next challenge. It’s a continuation of the eerie trend we’ve seen—each trial accompanied by a different moon phase, tying the natural elements to the witches’ journey. But this time, the stakes are even higher. The blood moon signifies the thinning veil between the living and the dead, making it the perfect setup for Agatha’s trial, where she’s forced to confront spirits from her past. Talking to the dead isn’t just a test of magic—it’s a test of Agatha’s guilt, power, and the unresolved ghosts that still haunt her.

Teen Evokes Billy Kaplan's Wiccan 

Red Shirt, Blue Headband

The fresh wardrobe for Joe Locke's character in "Teen" stands out as particularly intriguing, reminiscent of the buzz generated when clips from this episode first appeared in the trailers for Agatha All Along. Joe sports a striking red shirt paired with a blue headband, creating a clear visual nod to Billy Kaplan's Wiccan from Marvel Comics, which seems to be a deliberate choice. This look also echoes young Billy Maximoff's Halloween costume in WandaVision, where he donned similar colors and a headband. Consequently, it strongly suggests that "Teen" may very well be the reincarnated son of the Scarlet Witch.

Nostalgic Pressure: The 80s Watch and 30-Minute Countdown Timer 

The 30-minute trial countdown is prominently displayed on an old-school 80s wristwatch, adding a nostalgic touch to the scene. The ticking timer builds tension as the characters face a race against time to complete their task. This retro wristwatch ties into the 80s slumber party theme, further immersing the moment in a fun yet eerie atmosphere. The watch, with its vintage aesthetic, serves as a subtle nod to the classic 80s supernatural genre, where timers and countdowns often played a key role in escalating suspense.

An Ode to “The Exorcist”

Agatha’s Decent into Darkness

Shortly after the coven's heated discussion on whether Agatha deserves punishment and their eerie encounter with the Ouija board, Harkness becomes the unwilling host of a wayward spirit. Her transformation is strikingly reminiscent of the chilling possessions depicted in The Exorcist films. The makeup effects mirror those iconic visuals, and her movements—twisting and crawling through the cabin—are filled with a sinister intent as she turns on her fellow witches.

Evanora Harkness Returns

Agatha’s Past Haunts Her in Ghostly Form

In a surprising twist, it comes to light that Agatha is under the influence of her mother’s spirit, Evanora Harkness. Flashbacks from WandaVision reveal that Agatha was responsible for her mother’s death, along with the demise of her fellow witches, as she absorbed their powers for her own gain. Now, Evanora’s ghost seeks to settle old scores, harboring a desire for vengeance against her daughter. 

When Evanora exits Agatha's body, she tells the young witches, "My coven risked everything to kill her and you fools have willingly joined her." When Agatha asks her mother why she hates her, Evanora answers, "You were born evil, I ought to have killed you the moment you left my body." If true, this means that Agatha was already evil before the Darkhold corrupted her.

This moment also marks the MCU's inaugural introduction of ghosts.

“I Can Be Good”

Agatha’s Haunting Echo from WandaVision

Agatha, desperate to keep her new coven from abandoning her and leaving her to face the haunting presence of her mother, pleads with the witches, insisting that "she can be good." This echoes a chilling moment from her past when she used the same words to sway her former coven, just before she turned on them, claiming their powers for herself. This creates a haunting parallel between the two covens, particularly as the episode concludes with the death of at least Alice, if not more.

Agatha Drains Alice’s Magic, Sealing Her Fate 

Absorbing Alice’s Magic, Agatha Regains Her Power

In a shocking turn of events, Alice Wu-Gulliver’s bold decision to cast a spell on the Evanora-possessed Agatha actually works, forcing Evanora’s spirit out of Agatha’s body. But Agatha, ever the opportunist, seizes the moment and drains Alice’s magic. Just like Evanora and her former coven, Alice can’t stop her own spell, and as Agatha siphons her power, Alice’s body begins to decay.

In the end, Alice drops dead, leaving the coven powerless to save her. Even Jennifer Kale’s panacea from episode 2 wouldn’t have been enough to bring Alice back. With Alice gone for good, the coven is forced to press on down the Witches’ Road without one of their own. 

Nicholas Scratch’s Haunting Truth

Secrets of Agatha’s Son Revealed

Teen discovers that the spirit of Agatha’s late son, Nicholas Scratch, is haunting the cabin, causing the stopwatch trial timers to halt. As Teen inspects the Ouija board, he notices it’s spelling out Nicholas Scratch’s name. Without hesitation, he shouts Nicholas’ name to Agatha, and just like that, she stops draining Alice’s magic. In that chilling moment, Agatha hears her son’s voice whisper, “Mama, stop.”

This revelation confirms that Nicholas Scratch is truly deceased, dispelling earlier theories that hinted he might be working for Mephisto, as suggested in episode 3 of Agatha All Along. It also clarifies that the Teen is not Agatha’s son, countering previous assumptions. While Teen can’t save Alice, he begins to piece together just how much Nicholas means to Agatha—and it might just be the key to stopping her.

“Like Mother, Like Son”

Is Teen Really Billy Maximoff?

In a stunning turn of events, Agatha drains Alice of her powers as she attempts to break free from her possession, ultimately leading to the shocking murder of the protective witch at the conclusion of Agatha All Along episode 5. This act mirrors Agatha's past, where she similarly eliminated her former coven and her own mother. At the episode's climax, Teen boldly confronts Agatha, declaring that if being a witch entails taking lives for personal gain, he wants no part of it. Agatha, with a sly grin, remarks on how much he resembles his mother, hinting that she has always been aware of his true identity, further reinforcing the notion that Teen is indeed the offspring of the Scarlet Witch.

Teen’s Magical Ascension

A Crown Fit for Wiccan

In a surprising turn of events, Teen reveals his own radiant blue magic. He seizes control of both Lilia and Jennifer, sending Agatha tumbling off the Witches' Road and into the muck, before doing the same to the other two witches. The fifth episode of Agatha All Along concludes with Teen donning a crown that strikingly resembles the Scarlet Witch's Red Crown. This development strongly suggests that Agatha All Along has officially established Teen as Billy Kaplan's Wiccan, the reborn son of the Scarlet Witch.

[holyblanchett]

Agatha arguing with her darkhold adopted son while evading the scarlet witch will never not be funny.

"If you're my mommy does that mean the scarlet witch is my daddy?" 😭😭 is such an insane thing for him to say to her.

[wickypurple]

Old drawing of Wanda and Todd from evolution

I miss them 😭

[ellastone-olsen]

SWEET FLOWER.

★Pairing: Rio Vidal x reader x Agatha Harkness

★Summary: porn without plot (I’m not sorry)

★Word count: 1.3k

★Warnings: NSFW 18+ dom/sub dynamics if you squint, petnames, orgasm control, some magic use, mommy kink, threesome, bites, aftercare

A/N: I haven't written anything for a VERY LONG time and after such a break this is all that came out. I love Agatha and Rio so much, my sweet buns, but sometimes my brain goes in the wrong direction.

DISCLAIMER: ENGLISH ISNT MY FIRST LANGUAGE

Sitting on Agatha's lap was probably the most pleasant pastime you could imagine. The scent of the older woman's heavy perfume filled everything around you and something inside you broke.

The little teasing had finally crossed the line, or at least her patience had run out. Either way, you didn't mind. Until you felt the green witch's arms around your waist and her nose buried in your hair, inhaling the scent of shampoo.

"Should we torture her?" a voice called from behind you. You were trapped between the bodies of two witches, Agatha's chuckle lost in the skin of your neck as she kissed and bit while Rio settled her hands on your hips. "I don't recall asking you to join," Agatha snapped. Their manner of communication had become so familiar that it was immediately clear that she was not serious.

Then Rio leaned down, forcing you to lie on top of the older woman so that she could reach her lips and unexpectedly pull Agatha into a kiss. As the women moved in tandem, ignoring you, your heart skipped a beat. You would be lying if you said it wasn't the most mesmerizing view of your life. Rio forced your aching center to press against Agatha's stomach and a sigh escaped your lips. The green witch chuckled through the kiss and took you in her arms, doing it again. Your head fell on Agatha's shoulder, and hands tightly gripped the back of the sofa, which you had been holding on to all this time.

“Oh god,” you whispered, which didn’t go unnoticed. Agatha broke the kiss, turning her head towards you and lifting your face up by the chin with two fingers. “What’s up pet? You want both of us? Is that driving you crazy?” Her taunt was driving you crazy, but she was right. You started to turn your head back to look at the green witch, but Agatha pulled you back, grabbing your face. “Answer me.” You tried to gather your thoughts, but instead a hiss came out as Rio’s teeth sank into your neck. “Fuck.” Your eyes closed and another throaty laugh reached your ears. “Such a greedy girl, you think you can take two at once?”

“I…I don’t.” Was all you could say before Rio’s hand found the area between your thighs, pressing through the fabric of your underwear to your entrance. “Sweet little thing, already soaking wet for us.” Another taunt. “Maybe if I do this she’ll talk faster?” That was definitely not the case, because the next thing Rio did was the one that completely destroyed your ability to think clearly. Her fingers pushed your underwear aside and ran through your wet folds, teasing your entrance again. You were clay in their hands, to be molded into anything they wanted.

Your hips moved and sought more contact, but Agatha lifted you higher, so that your breasts were level with her mouth. “Not so fast, baby.” Her lips wrapped around your nipple until her hand reached your swollen clit to rub small circles. “FUCK. Oh my god.” Rio’s lips were on your neck again,then on your shoulders, leaving love bites that were quickly turning red. “But it’s just us, sweetheart.” Another chuckle.

Their hands and lips seemed to be everywhere and your body was vibrating with need. Sobs left your mouth and beads of tears formed in the corners of your eyes from some of the particularly harsh bites both women were giving. “Oh look Agatha, we have too sensitive flower in our hands.” You finally turned your head and met Rio’s brown eyes. Out of nowhere, the flower she always carried appeared in her hand and she placed it behind your ear. Her thumb wiped away your tears and she leaned down to pull you into a slow, gentle kiss that was such a contrast to the bites she had just received. The woman didn’t let go even when your lungs ran out of air, it felt like she had been starving for centuries before connecting your lips.

Agatha's fingers pressed against your sensitive bud again at this time and you moaned into the green witch's mouth. "You never knew how to share." You understood what she was talking about when Agatha's hand turned your head again so that this time another witch could give you a hungry kiss. Hands grabbed and crumpled her jacket. Rio's fingers stroked your stomach, chest, hips, wherever she could reach, she laid her head on your shoulder and, collected your arousal between the folds and pushed two fingers inside, making you see stars. "Such a tight little pussy, huh?" You screamed and threw your head back on Rio's shoulder, Agatha was clearly not happy with the loss of contact and painfully bite your nipple, making you hiss again. "Such impudence will take a long time to work off, pet."

Rio's fingers moved in perfect rhythm, pressing into the soft spot inside each time, while Agatha played with your swollen clit. Your hips moved to their pace, wet sounds of arousal filling the room. "Oh fuck, yes yes please..." The witches looked at each other in silent dialogue, the green witch's other hand buried itself in your hair and pulled, forcing you to arch, and Agatha's mouth found your breast again. "What are you asking for, baby girl? Maybe if you say it right, we'll give it." Rio whispered in your ear, and then licked.

Your breath caught in your throat, panting from the fast pace and the good feeling. You wanted, no, you craved them to take you to the edge and it didn't matter how much you had to beg. These two were worth everything. Rio adjusted the flower that was threatening to fall out from behind your ear.

“We are waiting, pet." Agatha's hoarse voice interrupted your thoughts. Without hesitation, you asked. "Please." A painful bite remained on your collarbone. "Not right, try again." Their movements did’t stop, and you knew that you could not hold out for long. "Please, Agatha? Please, let me." You repeated the word like a broken record. Sharp nails dug into your thigh, lowering you onto the Rio’s fingers. "Wrong, sweet girl. Come on, say it. We know what you have in mind."

A thread of green magic enveloped your head, catching the necessary thought from your consciousness. Your eyes widened. Your misty gaze studied Agatha's face, her lips stretched into a smile and her teeth bit her lower lip. "Come on, pet. Don't upset us." Again a hoarse whisper in your ear. The knot in your stomach tightened with each movement of the women's hands. "Please.. mommy?" You shook your head looking at the women in turn. "Mommy please." You addressed them both. Then Rio made a rougher push. "That's it, darling." Her hand lay on your cheek and turned your head so that you looked only at Agatha. Gray eyes burned with mockery, and the woman said "Let it go" with her lips.

Your thighs tensed and shook, the orgasm covered you in a giant wave, your walls squeezed around Rio's fingers, and Agatha continued to draw circles on your swollen clit, prolonging the pleasure. Pornographic screams came out of your mouth, and you were not ashamed.

When you calmed down, Rio pulled out and brought her hand to your face. Your arousal flowed down her palm. "Mmm, our flower did so well, look, sweetheart." Agatha ran her fingers through your disheveled hair and stroked the top of your head. "Absolutely." There was no trace left of the previous cruelty and both women left small kisses on your body, apologizing for the previous bites. You relaxed and lay completely on Agatha, burying your nose in fluffy hair. "Thank you," Rio plucked the flower from your hair and tucked it behind Agatha's ear. "Honey, don't you think this is the end?”

[xiaoyezidechoubaoxiaoxiaoye]

He’s insanely beautiful!!!

[lanfear-is-my-darkmistress]

Thinking about little!reader being so upset because she can't break the spell that Wanda placed on her mommy because she's not powerful enough. She likes Agnes and Agnes takes good care of her but she's not Agatha. But then reader gets a surprise visitor and it turns out to be Daddy (Rio). Daddy who she hasn't seen in a long time since her and Mommy broke up (Agatha won the custody battle). Reader ask Rio to undo the magic but first Rio wants to reconnect with her baby girl.

[sl-ut]

Hello there ;)! I have a smutty Agatha Harkness x reader request ☺️😈 so Agatha eating Reader and Reader is exhausted after coming but Agatha wants to continue, she gets impatient and makes a magic strap appear that she can use on reader

when in westview

pairing: agatha harkness x fem!reader

description: agatha’s gonna be in westview for a while, so why not take advantage of her apprentice’s memory loss? (set around wandavision ep.5)

warnings: SMUT!!! (mdni), swearing, unspecified legal age gap, reader is under mind control, THIS IS ENTIRELY CONSENSUAL, no use of y/n (for once lol)

words: 2.8K

date posted: 3/3/24

Agatha really didn’t think she would be stuck in Westview for this long. Sure, she knew it would be a few days for Wanda to come up from her own mind control, but she really wasn’t expecting to have to play babysitter every other day. She barely made it to the end of each episode without breaking out of her role and just using her powers to dig into Wanda’s mind and force her to figure things out. 

The only consolation that she had was the fact that she was able to bring her apprentice into the Hex with her. Initially, she’d intended to leave her behind, but the young woman is just as hard headed as her master and refused to let Agatha away from her for even a minute, even if it meant that she would be under Wanda Maximoff’s mind control. At least Agatha was able to take her out of it for a few minutes at a time, but did it very conservatively to avoid causing too much stress on her brain. 

Instead, she found some comfort in knowing that she was just next door in the small blue bungalow, always up bright and early to tend to her flower beds and fending off all of Westview’s finest bachelors, all vying for a chance to take the finest (and only) bachelorette in town, all blissfully unaware that she spent every other night with her face pressed into the silk sheets of the married woman next door. 

Ralph was collateral, of course. At first, she’d considered letting him out in public, but after spending just a few minutes in the house with him she’d decided to send him off to be locked in his own little dweller, ready to perform when needed. At least others knew he was there, all she needed to do was say his name once or twice an episode and that was that. Plus, she was actively spouting about how lousy he was, so it made more sense why she was spending any time that she wasn’t undermining Wanda’s magic with the her young, single neighbour, always wandering over for a cup of sugar that took them far too long to dig out of the cupboard. 

She sort of liked this version of her apprentice. Not as much as she liked the real her, but it was almost cute to see how innocent Wanda had made her; she was ditzy, in a cute way, she was so friendly to everyone, and it was hard for Agatha not to enjoy her doe eyes staring up at her all teary and sweet sounds of pleasure falling from her lips. She was everything that she wasn’t in real life, and though Agatha wouldn’t give that up for the world, she knew this wasn’t permanent and thought of it as a bit of roleplay to spice things up rather than a loss of someone she cared about. She liked the way the house was always spotless, and how she was constantly dressed in dresses you might only see in vintage catalogues (except for when she was weeding her constantly immaculate garden, of course), and how could she not like the constant variety of baked goods she had in her home? She’d almost growled at one of Wanda’s boys for reaching for a second cookie one time. 

It was also nice that she didn’t ask questions. One of the reasons that she had initially wanted to leave her behind was that she was too damn nosy. Was she a good witch with plenty of potential? Yes. Was she a hard headed young woman that didn’t know how to follow directions? Also yes. Agatha knew that she would somehow end up getting in her way, and she couldn’t risk her letting something slip to Wanda. Agatha was able to do her job with her around and not have to worry about her going off and accidentally ruining her plan.

Like now, as Agatha muttered to herself as she hunched over one of her many spellbooks in her basement, she hardly even noticed the padding of bare feet coming down the stairs, nor did she notice the sheet-covered figure creeping up behind her until the sheet extended around her as she curled her arms around her waist. Agatha sighed, leaning back into the embrace and revelling at the feeling of her bare breasts pressing against her, only Agatha’s own shirt acting as a divider between her back and the perky nipple that had undoubtedly hardened due to the cool temperature of the basement. 

“Aggie,” she whined, chin coming to rest on her shoulder. 

Agatha smirked. She’d insisted that she call her that, not liking when she called her Agnes (though, as far as she was aware, that was her name), but she also couldn’t have her going around referring to her as Agatha. 

“Come back to bed, it’s late.”

The brunette turned her head to peek at the girl, “I know, I know. Thought I could slip away for a few minutes, guess I forgot how needy you are, huh?”

She turned her head down and playfully sunk her teeth into her shoulder, only pulling away when Agatha barked out a stern hey!

“Go back to bed, sweetness,” Agatha pressed a kiss to her temple, “I’ll be up in a minute.”

Those doe eyes appeared, and Agatha knew that she was gonna miss them when they were both back to normal, “You promise? You’re not just saying that to get rid of me?”

Agatha snorted out a laugh, “Please, I know you’ll be back if I’m not up there in ten.”

“Would you make it five if I told you I’m not that sleepy yet?”

Agatha raised her brow, “Again? Was three times not enough for you?”

She shrugged, “Four might do it. Or five…or six.”

Agatha was quiet for a moment, an uncharacteristically adorable pink hue covering her cheeks as a very detailed image of her body filled her mind, how practised she was in giving Agatha exactly what she wanted, her figure easily malleable under her touch. 

“I’ll be up in five.”

Five minutes had come and gone three times over by the time that Agatha finally made her way out of the basement, rubbing at her eyes as she adjusted to the brighter lighting of the kitchen. She shook her head as she came across the limp, abandoned sheet near the top of the stairs, chuckling as she scooped it up and continued to the bedroom. 

She could easily tell what was going on inside before she even pushed the door open. She could easily make out those desperate whines and whimpers of pleasure that she’d been so well acquainted with, even before coming to Westview. Agatha remained in the doorway for a moment, silently taking in the sight before her and thanking whatever gods or beings that had allowed her to witness such a thing.

She was laying horizontally on the bed, her head pressed into one edge on the mattress as her body spread itself width-wise, her feet planted and curled into the opposite edge. Her head was tilted to the side, eyes closed and lips parted to release her little sighs, back arched and hips grinding into her own fingers with an unsteady rhythm. She’d been pampered by Agatha, scarcely having to resort to such a thing without her partner present, so much that the scene was almost pitiful to watch–she seemed inexperienced, brows sitting low over her eyes and the corners of her lips curling down in frustration as tried to mimic Agatha’s movements with her fingers, not to mention the pathetic sounds leaving her lips. 

Finally taking pity on the girl, she made her presence known, “I see you’ve taken it upon yourself to start without me?”

Her eyes snapped open, a flicker of embarrassment crossing her features before it was promptly replaced by another doe-eyed look of feigned innocence as her lips puckered in a pout, “You said five minutes.��

“I know, baby,” Agatha moved further into the room, gently closing the door behind her as she rounded the foot of the bed, standing over her figure and staring down at where her fingers continued to plug her tight little hole, “‘M sorry. I was thinking of making it up to you, but now that I see how impatient you were, I’m not so sure.”

Agatha had never seen anyone move so fast as she watched her fingers slide out and away from her heat, almost as if she was trying to undo her own actions. 

“Please, Aggie,” She whined, pushing herself up on her elbows, “I need you so bad. I couldn’t do it without you.”

“No?” Agatha mocked, catching her wrist in her grasp and dragging her hand up to inspect her slick-covered middle and ring fingers, “These fingers not long enough for you, baby?”

Agatha wrapped her lips around her two digits, tongue sliding between and around them to collect every drop of her slick. She grinned wickedly around them at the wanton moan that she released, hips lifting off the mattress and tilting towards her. 

“No, not as good as yours,” She whined, “No one’s are.”

“Now that’s what I like to hear,” Agatha released her fingers, dropping her wrist back to the mattress and instead moving to glide her hands up her thighs, gently massaging the plump flesh nearest to her core, only barely grazing the thick thatch of hair on her pubis. “Maybe I will be nice to you after all.”

She barely gave her a moment to process her words before her long middle finger was sliding into her dripping heat, thumb coming to massage her clit with tight circles. Agatha smirked to herself, easily sliding her ring finger in as well thanks to the excess slick that had dripped out of her from the earlier hours of the evening. 

She curled her toes into the mattress, hips slightly pulling away from her touch. She smiled sheepishly at her, “‘M sensitive.”

Agatha chuckled, “I know you are, pretty, but you asked for this, so stay still and let me make you feel good.”

She nodded, legs bending at the knees and pulling them up to press into her chest. Her eyes rolled back as Agatha’s fingers slotted easily against the gummy spot deep inside of her, a soft sigh of relief falling from her lips at the soft tickling sensation, quickly followed by a moan from the deepest part of her throat. 

Agatha pushed herself forward, fingers still moving at an agonising yet forceful pace while her free hand pressed into the mattress next to her head. Leaning her body over top, she took in the sight of her heaving breasts, jiggling with every punch of her fingers and rising with every gasping breath. Agatha spared a moment to drop down, taking one of her nipples into her watering mouth and sucking. Her lips struggled not to curl into a wicked grin at the shocked cry as she gently clamped her teeth down on the sensitive nub.

“So responsive,” Agatha hummed, “Almost like you’ve already gotten your fill tonight. Maybe I should stop–”

“Please,” she whined, glossy eyes staring down at her wildly, “Please don’t.” 

Agatha chuckled, “I won’t baby, as long as you keep making those pretty noises.”

The brunette slowly dragged her tongue from her breast, up her sternum, throat, and finally stopped as she came across her swollen and spit-covered lips. 

“Open your mouth,” she spoke, any sweetness that her voice had held before completely vanishing.

She complied, wordlessly parting her lips just far enough that Agatha could get a clear view of the inside of her mouth, tongue lolling out in anticipation.

This pulled another laugh out of her, “Jesus, look at you already for it. I’ve made you such a little slut for me, haven’t I?”

She didn’t give her a moment to respond before she was hurling a fat wad of spit onto her tongue, fingers quickly coming to press into the pink muscle and massage the saliva into it, grinning widely as she watched the girl eagerly swallow the fluid on command. 

“Good girl,” The brunette woman muttered under her breath at the tell-tale sensation of her inner walls clenching around her fingers, though she made no effort to slow down or pull out and allow her to come down from the high, instead pushing her fingers even faster with the encouragement of the gushing liquid that dribbled down onto the sheets. 

Number five had come even easier than the fourth, and Agatha felt an overwhelming sense of pride fill her chest as she finally withdrew her digits from deep inside her. Weakly, the girl reached down and took hold of Agatha’s wrist, pulling her hand up until her fingers were able to slip past her lips. She moaned at the taste of her own juices, hips wiggling subconsciously at the taste.

“You okay, sweetness?” Agatha pressed a sweet kiss to her cheek, fingers massaging small circles into the plush of her belly as she caught her breath. The girl nodded, returning the affection. “Good.”

Agatha pushed herself up, slowly tugging at the tied belt of her silk robe before letting it slide down her shoulders and finally drop to the floor. The younger woman took in her nude form with an appreciative stare, until her eyes flickered to the place between her legs, where a shocking sight stood at full mast.

“Aggie–”

“Shh,” Agatha soothed, “Turn over, I’ll make you feel good.”

“I–” She couldn’t take her eyes off of the obnoxiously large cock, visibly throbbing with excitement. It looked so real, aside from the fact that it was glowing a slightly purple hue. It was about seven inches, thick, and nestled in a thick patch of brown hair at its very base. As sensitive as she was, she still couldn’t bring herself to say no, shakily rolling onto her belly.

“Good girl,” Agatha praised once more, hands holding her hips tightly as she pulled them into the air, taking no time to slowly slip inside and inch her way further and further into her warm, tight walls before stopping to allow for her to adjust to the size. “How’s that feel?”

The girl whimpered out an unintelligible response as Agatha's hips pressed firmly into the fat of her ass, fingers curling into the sheets to keep herself grounded.

Agatha took that as a sign, making the first shallow pump of her hips. The sound that it pulled from the younger woman was nothing short of pornographic, encouraging another firmer thrust until her throbbing tip was brushing the entrance of her cervix, and within minutes she was humping her lover’s ass at a bruising pace. 

Filthy sounds escaped both women, annunciated grunts from Agatha and slurred words of encouragement from the other. 

“Ag–” The younger woman arched her back, unsure of whether to push against Agatha further or to pull away as her orgasm erupted without notice, gushing out of her abused hole and onto Agatha’s lap messily. 

“There it is,” Agatha gripped her ass cheeks with each of her hands, squeezing and spreading them in unison with her thrusts, finding herself on the brink of her own climax at the sight of her tightest little hole, glistening with her own juices, “Now be a good girl and let me use you, yeah?”

One hand moved up to press against the back of her head, forcing her face further into the mattress as her hips picked up their pace, her thick cock throbbing with the oncoming gush of thick white cum, slowly dripping out of her and sliding down her thighs as Agatha fucked through it, head tossed back in euphoria. 

When all was said and done, Agatha carefully tucked her lover into the bed, hand stroking her hair so carefully and with such contrast to how aggressively she had just been pinning her head to the mattress. The younger woman sighed, eyes fluttering closed as she snuggled into Agatha’s chest. 

“Don’t get rid of that thing,” She mumbled mindlessly into Agatha’s milky white flesh, “I’m gonna suck you dry in the morning.”

[pigeonp0st]

heelloo!! uhm i was thinking could u write an agatha harkness x reader one with Agatha sees r with another person (just as closer friends but Agatha doesn’t know it). Then Agatha invites r to her house and Agatha has to bite down on their lip so hard whenever r talks about the other person, angst with happy ending please (and if your are comfortable, maybe you can add smut)?

Agatha Harkness x Reader

Summary:

Agatha gets jealous of your relationship with Wanda. Emotion ensues.

Warning:

Jealousy, angst (not really)

Notes:

Thanks for the request! I wrote this pretty fast and have not even read it over once…I’ll probably fix it up later…anyways! Hope you enjoy still <3 I always love an Agatha request

——

Agatha stopped Wanda for you. She brought down Westview, and forced Wanda into reality. In the process she ruined both of their fantasies; Wanda’s fantasy of a perfect life, and Agathas of all consuming power.

She did it for you. Because the prospect of power was nothing compared to the prospect of your devastation. Because you asked her to. You with your warm eyes, full of more emotion and humanity than both Agatha and Wanda have in power combined.

You asked her to, and there was no other option.

So no. She doesn’t regret it. Doesn’t regret trailing behind you and Wanda to help the Avengers, doesn’t regret following you. Can’t possibly. She doesn’t regret it, but Wanda smiles at you, leans in close, and Agatha feels a bit like she’s been betrayed. Betrayed because you smile back, and whisper something into Wanda’s ear that makes her flush a color that’s just perfect for the Scarlett Witch.

Agatha grits her teeth and returns to her book. She’s lived centuries and has never felt more childish.

It shouldn’t bother how close you and Wanda have gotten, she knows. She has no right to feel betrayed. She hasn’t done anything she’s done expecting anything more than your happiness. You aren’t hers.

You aren’t hers, and so Agatha just fumes silently in the corner of the room and imagines burning this whole damn tower down.

You don’t even know how Agatha cares, she knows. Every bit of vulnerability, love, and affection is hidden behind layers of humor and sarcasm.

You watch Agatha with distrust still because of it; wondering about alternative motives. Everyone in this god forsaken tower does, and Agatha has no idea why she’s here giving up centuries of planning for this game. These people are no different to those in Westview. Children playing dress up and pretend. All of them wearing costumes of heroes who aren’t afraid.

Cowards. All of them.

Your loud laugh draws Agatha’s attention from her page. Wanda is smiling at you with a gentleness Agatha can’t afford, and Agatha thinks, both with affection and a heavy heart; all of them but you.

She knows that despite her help she has given no one here good reason to trust her. She admits to herself that she enjoys letting them think she’s scheming—that she plays into it.

They’re just as uncaring for her as she is them. They push her away, but all you do is pull her in. To be brave and foolish is one in the same to Agatha, and she loves you for all the things she can’t afford to be.

—-

It’s only the next day that Agatha walks into the compound looking for you. She wants your help to test her potion.

She’s been visiting every day this week, and she’s beginning to feel a bit like the person she thought she wouldn’t ever be again. She’s beginning to settle into the thoughts instead of jerk away.

Then she sees you. You’re on top of Wanda, both you and her sleeping peacefully on the couch. Your head on her chest, her hand threaded in your hair, your legs intertwined.

The glass potion in Agatha’s hand shatters violently and loudly, startling only Wanda awake. She jerks and snaps her eyes towards Agatha, always on edge after being raised in war. Their eyes meet for only a second, and then both turn back to you, still sleeping peacefully.

Agatha turns on her heel. Wanda says, with a knowing that ruins her; “wait—”

Agatha, cowardly, no different than the people she despises, and never having claimed otherwise, teleports away.

—-

Agatha avoids the compound for just a week before she caves and invites you over.

She can’t bear to see Wanda, which is a new thing because usually she enjoys tormenting her. The image of her protective hand tangled in your hair, and your possessive leg thrown over her is still fresh in Agatha’s mind though.

Then there’s the text Wanda sent after Agatha left; filled with the same knowing Agatha sensed with her departure. You’re 5 years old.

(Then a bit later; whatever was in that potion melted through the compound. I hope you can magic up some money to fix your tantrum.)

Agatha, the picture of wisdom, sends Wanda two middle fingers and then blocks her.

So, naturally, she’s glad when you show up only an hour after Agatha’s text. No Wanda, for the first time in weeks.

At least—that’s what Agatha expected. It’s an hour later and all you’ve talked about is Wanda. Wanda this, Wanda that. Agatha has always had a challenge with patience, it’s always the biggest challenge of her schemes, and biting on her lip is barely constraining her from lashing out at this point.

It’s when Agatha tones your voice out though, that she notices the hunch to your shoulders, the heaviness in your eyes.

And the bruise around your neck. Why hadn’t she noticed sooner? “Who did this to you?”

Agatha drops her dishes immediately, rushing to where you’re seated at the kitchen island. She thinks; who, who, with a desperate frustration as she tilts your head up to inspect the injury. She’ll kill them. Kill them.

For now, she pulls her magic forward, setting to the task of healing the violence inflicted on you, but you pull away from Agatha just as suddenly as she calls on her magic; angry in a way Agatha is caught off guard by.

“All you are is hot and cold,” you mutter, looking away. “I’ve been trying to reach you for days and you haven’t responded, then I come as soon as you call and you ignore me for an hour. Now…now you suddenly care that I’m hurt?”

Agatha blinks, once, twice, and then you’re standing up and pacing her kitchen. Agatha stands, hand still hovering where it was touching your cheek, and watches.

“If you’re done—If you’ve already gotten what you needed from us, whatever it is, and are done, just tell me. Tell me and stop pretending to care,” you plead. Agatha notices the dark circles under your eyes. Notices all the parts of you that are dimmed now that she’s not stuck on Wanda, Wanda. “I can’t play pretend like you do, Ag. I don’t get what it serves you to act like you care about me. I have nothing to offer.”

You’re spiraling in the middle of Agatha’s kitchen, and Agatha is torn between all of the parts of herself. The one that wants to laugh and brush this all aside, the one that wants to comfort you, the one that wants to kiss you, and the one she settles on; the version of her that’s angry and feeling misunderstood by the person she knows she’s done everything to deceive.

She’s not often hit by regret, or not often this out of control over her own emotions. It makes her angrier. Angrier because it takes her back and makes her feel younger than she’s been in centuries. She’s not that child anymore, can’t be.

Don’t you get that you’re ruining her?

—-

“I care,” Agatha whispers urgently, silently fuming and with her face morphed into a frustrated scowl. “Of course I care,” she says, like it should have never been in question—because she’s made it so clear apparently, you think disbelievingly, unable to help the scoff that chokes out of you.

Yeah right.

With more disappointment than Agatha could ever understand, you shake your head. “The only thing you care about, Agatha, is power. You tell me yourself all the time. I just thought— ” you pause, untamed tears coming to your eyes. “I don’t know what I thought…”

The moment the words leave your lips, you and Agatha enter into a standoff. Agatha furious and raging, and you too wrapped in your own emotions to register it as it is.

Agatha angry for the first time—at this. At the doubting of her care. It should say all you need to know, but you’ve missed it completely now that you’ve stopped looking.

It’s another moment of glaring before Agatha scoffs and stalks forward, pushing you into the wall and trapping you. Anyone else would be scared, but you just continue to glare (even as you flush).

There’s a part of you somewhere, one you don’t notice, but that Agatha does. A part of you that knows Agatha would never hurt you.

“I’m too old for this, ” Agatha grits out, and then her hand is around your throat. You don’t even flinch. Aren’t even surprised when you feel the rush of healing magic. All you’re surprised about is just that— your lack of surprise.

Agatha’s eyes turn inspecting, she shifts your head to the side with her other hand, ignoring your protests. You’re beginning to feel like a child, beginning to see things as they are.

Of course Agatha cares, you know. Somehow it hurts just as much. How could she both care and be so unpredictable, so cold? Had she thought of how you’d feel at all when you ignored her for the week? The other Avengers grew suspicious, checking everywhere around the compound for something stolen. You thought something terrible happened to her.

Only Wanda seemed unbothered. “She’s just throwing a tantrum,” she said, and wouldn’t explain further.

“Who did this?” Agatha repeats, pulling you from your thoughts.

“It was a mission”, you explained, the fire leaving you with it. You can’t afford to be mad at Agatha. You need and miss her too much.

Agatha growls, not settled at all. “Isn’t Wanda supposed to be protecting you?” She asks venomously, her jaw tightening along with her hand. “What good is your little girlfriend if she can’t even do that?”

It’s so laced with bitterness, with wanting, you’re left to blink at her, utterly shocked. Does Agatha think—? Wanda’s voice comes to your head; “she saw us cuddling and looked like she was going to murder me with the shattered glass in her hand.”

Seriously?

“What?” Agatha asks, self conscious in a way she never is. Self conscious because she likes—possibly loves you back.

All of this week’s turmoil, and for what? Because the two of you love each other?

—

You’re grinning at Agatha now, and Agatha is completely suspicious and unnerved. She tries to step back but you capture her wrists, pull her even closer.

Agatha’s heart pounds at the look on your face. Like a Cheshire cat. She can’t escape the feeling that she’s been caught. She eyes you with uneasiness.

You look at her expectantly now. “So much wisdom and yet you’re still so stupid?”

“Stupid?” Agatha repeats with disgust, like the word isn’t even in the dictionary.

You nod. “Agatha,” you breathe, affectionately. Agatha feels her world shift. “You know I love you, don’t you? Wanda is only ever going to be my frie—”

Agatha doesn’t let you finish. Couldn’t bear too. She’s always standing on the precipice of something. Always hovering over lines, too impatient to stand back, and your I love you snaps Agatha forward, like she’s been waiting for it for centuries. She kisses you roughly, pushing you back against the wall, and tries to claim it.

I love you, to the person who has never felt loved. She turned her back on love the moment love turned her back on her. She was only a teenager then, realizing that there was not a strength she could have that would make her enough for her mother—for her clan. There was not a person she could be beside herself, and never a version that wasn’t lacking, just out of reach of affection.

Then you. You showed up in Westview, strong enough to break in unaffected, and suspicious of Agatha, suspicious and then knowing, but still caring through it, and Agatha felt herself enough in the moments her mother would have claimed were her weakest; her moments where she was vulnerable and honest.

She kisses you like you’re her testament of her strength, now. Like you’re a testament of just how enough she is. She’s always been wanting, and doesn’t know how to exist without it. Without the yearning of; more, more, more, but as her kisses slow down, turn loving instead of passionate, she thinks for the first time that to exist like this—for the first time at peace, is something she could get used to forever.

You’re breathing heavily when Agatha breaks away, completely flustered and shaken. Agatha feels her heart pick up again, and thinks, no—she’ll always be wanting, and moves in to kiss you again.

You laugh, so joyful and happy—because of her. Because of her—a hand over Agatha’s mouth to stop her. “Are we ever going to talk?” You wonder breathlessly. “About feelings? About where you got that idea about Wanda and me?

Agatha pulls your hand away, smiles devilishly and possessively. “After I’ve had you against every corner of this house, we’ll invite Wanda over and talk over everything you’d like.”

You groan in exasperation, but there’s no protesting when Agatha kisses you next, and from the way you practically fall into the way Agatha’s hand curls loosely around your neck, she doesn’t expect one anytime soon.