#c; agatha harkness

[graunblida]

@salemsbane sent: must you always make things so complicated?

a few beats of silence fall between them where lexa says absolutely nothing. she simply stares at the other witch, green eyes swimming with BEWILDERMENT. " ...i just repeated your plan back to you ! " classic agatha, known for her cunning ways and ability to twist the words of others. the insufferable woman can hatch the most heinous of schemes, somehow convince a person it was their idea entirely, see that they follow through, and then reap the rewards. don't even get her started on the aftermath. " and might i remind you, those were my exact thoughts the first time i heard it! " the look on agatha's face conveys indifference and boredom rather than any form of introspection lexa might have hoped for. unbelievable. " and let me guess, you're going to observe safely from a distance until the 'big moment,' right? "

[laurabenanti]

"Agatha, am I killing this boy so my brother can live?"

[florencebirdsong]

Coven of chaos more like coven of judging you

based on this gif set

[thestarlightforge]

Edit: Tone Tag 😭 I am not yelling at y’all, I’m just exploding in my little gay disabled wandavision young avengers bubble. It’s all excitement/relief/love over here. 😊💙

JAC REPURPOSED WANDA’S CRAPPY RITUALISTIC AMNESIAC STORYLINE FOR GOOD

“JUST PRETEND I’M NOT HERE” JAC SCHAEFFER— 🫠

IT’S NOT TWO KIDS IN ONE BODY, THE HEX INDIRECTLY KILLED WILLIAM KAPLAN, BILLY MAXIMOFF IS REALLY BILLY WITH A REAL SOUL THAT HAD NO HOME—HE’S REALLY WANDA’S SON, TOMMY’S BROTHER

SOME OF HIS MEMORIES GOT MUDDLED AND HE LEARNED TO REPRESS SOME OF HIS MAGIC, BUT HE COULD BARELY EVEN GET OUT CALLING REBECCA “MOM” IN THE KAPLANS’ LIVING ROOM AND HE NEVER REMEMBERED WILLIAM KAPLAN’S LIFE—BECAUSE WANDA’S KIDS WERE REAL AND HERS, WHETHER 45 YEARS OF MISOGYNISTIC COMICS WRITERS LIKE IT OR NOT

“WHO ARE YOU?” “WILLIAM KAPLAN.” “SAY AGAIN?”

“I’M BILLY MAXIMOFF” AND

“I’M NOT THAT NICE” 😭

BILLY MAXIMOFF FELL IN LOVE WITH A BOY, HE DIDN’T JUST TAKE WILLIAM KAPLAN’S BOYFRIEND TO BLEND IN

JAC DIDN’T FORGET ABOUT TOMMY, NO ONE DID—THIS WHOLE THING IS FOR HIM AND HE’S EVERYWHERE

WILLIAM KAPLAN’S LAST WORDS WERE “MOM, LOOK OUT” AND

BILLY MAXIMOFF’S FIRST WORD OUTSIDE THE HEX

WAS “TOMMY” 😭

[revleftshark]

Out of context it looks like two demons are getting married. Or like Agaytha someone married the Queen of the Demon Realm.

[immortalspacelesbian]

So I'm writing Agathario

[maniacace]

deadpool and wolverine, agatha and rio and now eddie and venom.... there has been a specific section of marvel gays feasting this year

[our-blood-is-our-ink]

Desert Heat

Ship: Naga!Agatha x Reader

Summary: It isn't very often your lifemate gets to stretch her limbs...

Word Count: 1.1k

Disclaimer: 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI

Warnings: Oral (r receiving), mommy kink, unsafe heat exposure, sand, bondage, (forced) humping/grinding, bunny kink, possessiveness

A/n: Happy Holloween everyone!!

You lounge back in the lawn chair, a large umbrella casting a cool shade as the battery powered fan blows on your face.

You sip from a canteen, the water not quite hot yet, but past tepid.

You can spot her dark curls in the distance, and you smile as you watch it weave back and forth.

A long, content sigh passes through your lips.

So rarely does your lifemate get to really stretch her limbs like this, and watching her eagerly traverse the warm sand makes the deadly heat worth putting up with.

Her hair disappears, before a cloud of sand is shaken from it, and you're startled into laughter.

“I'm so holding that against you.” You chuckle to yourself. “Rolling around like a toddler.”

You close your eyes as the open air buzzes with heat, drowsing.

“Little bunny should know better than to sleep when they know a predator is around.”

You squeal with shock at Agatha's voice, her tongue gently flicking against your ear.

She throws her head back and cackles, and you half heartedly hit her arm, twisted around in your chair to glare at her.

“Agatha!” You protest. “How did you even get from there to here so quick?”

“Mmm…” She hums, her eyelids fluttering as she rubs her cheek against the crown of your head. “I'm very fast.”

“And silent, apparently.” You grump.

She laughs again, brushing her lips against your exposed skin.

“As much fun as it is to be able to race around,” she says, “I think there's something far more… Enticing sitting so prettily right here.”

Seductiveness drips from her voice, oozing through, and usually, it would be enough to enrapture you.

Usually.

“Not in the sand you don't.” You scold. “Sand gets everywhere, Agatha.”

Smooth, warm scales begin sliding over your exposed legs, and you shiver at the sensation.

“You and I both know I can take what I want without a grain of sand ever touching you, little bunny.”

At her whisper, you have to bite back a whine, shifting as arousal starts to pool between your thighs.

“Agatha.” You warn.

She leaves an open mouthed kiss on your neck, and you instinctively arch into the touch, a short gasp leaving you as you feel the tips of her fangs caress the sensitive flesh.

“Mine.” She hisses, her coils suddenly tightening, making you aware that you're now firmly in her grasp.

“T-the sand.” You stutter insistently.

Agatha growls.

“Fine.” She snaps.

Before you could blink, you're being hoisted by her sheer strength off of the lawn chair and into the air, her thick muscle convulsing as she shifts you about, holding you more safely in her grasp.

“If the next words out of your mouth isn't take me, mommy, I'm taking you back home and I won't let you travel with me anymore.”

The whimper you've been holding back slips through.

“No, I'll be good!” You cry out, knowing her threat is seriously meant. “Take me, mommy!”

Agatha's eyes gleam with her delight, and you find yourself being pulled into their depths.

“That's it, little bunny.” Agatha croons. “Lose yourself to me. You know this is where you belong… In the hands of your predator, helpless.”

You're unable to look away, some unnatural color starting to bleed through the brilliant blue bright eyes that have captured your own.

“‘M your lil’le bun’y.” You slur, fading, dropping.

Agatha’s soft touch sets your body alight, and as she pries your legs open, you relax, trusting the hungry, dangerous look that flashes across her face.

After all, your kind mistress has taught you well.

Little bunnies belong in danger to their betters, to their predators.

To their protectors.

Predator-protector. It had struck you as an oxymoron, initially. An impossibility.

You gasp as Agatha uses her hands to rip your shorts clean in two.

“Mommy!” The plea tears its way from your throat as your cunt throbs with need.

Very quickly, Agatha had corrected your notions of any conflict to her role in your life.

“My precious little one.” Her murmur is sweet, like honey, at contrast to her dark, husky tone.

Her eyes continue to pull and pull, drowning you.

In her eyes, you see the universe, and then fall through the edge, into oblivion.

Into unknown, undone.

Your clothes have disappeared, you can feel how she carefully weaves her body with yours, encasing you with precision, until your chest has been bound in a way that stimulates your burning need, and your bare pussy is against some of the thickest parts of her strong tail.

“Go on, bunny. Make a mess. Put on a show.”

It's not truly an instruction, you couldn't move even if you wanted to, and so Agatha rocks your body against hers, forcing you to grind against her iridescent scales, ripping a moan from you.

“What a good little piece of prey.” Her nose brushes against your ear, her hands beginning to wander, pulling more noises of pleasure from you. “My bunny.”

The utter possessiveness in her voice, the way it sinks beneath you and entraps you to her will – you wildly thrash, trying to get closer to her. Ridiculous as the notion may be, with Agatha literally wrapped around you, the need to be as physically close to her as possible overrides everything else.

A high pitched keening sound is drawn from you as Agatha’s head dips, her coils pulling your legs apart as she lifts you up from where her scales now shimmer in the acrid heat with your wetness, her tongue flicking deliciously against your soaked center.

“Mommy!” Your hips buck, attempting to hump at her face. “Fuck!”

Agatha’s low chuckle sends your eyes rolling, and the short gasps she pulls from you only eggs her on as she eats you out.

It isn't very long before your peak rapidly approaches, but that doesn't phase Agatha, who seems determined to drown in your essence.

“My bunny.” She murmurs against your core as she waits for the shocks passing through your body to die down. “My treasure.”

The adoration makes you whimper, a tear of pleasure finally rolling free.

“Agatha.” You hoarsely beg.

Your lifemate shifts her coils, and she envelopes you into her embrace.

You stay like that for a long while, face pressed against Agatha’s soft chest, breathing in her scent of wildflowers and petrichor, her fingers gently running through your hair.

The air buzzes with silence, the only other sound is your soft breathing that matches your lover's.

A yawn eventually grips you, and Agatha sighs.

“Come, dear.” She softly croons. “Let's get you settled for a nap.”

“Mmm… Okay…” You drowsily agree.

Agatha’s smile is pressed against your forehead as she gently kisses you, and you let out a content sigh of your own.

“Will you stay and cuddle?” You slur out as Agatha starts slithering with you still being held in her arms.

“Of course. Anything you want, superstar.”

You smile.

[mutantmuses]

" When will it end ? " Agatha asked while she looked at Rio. Her eyes soon lowered as she knew that was she was the one who was still angry and hurt. But she also knew that death had been following her for so long now. "Doesn't it get tiring for you?" Her voice was low as she spoke. "Waiting for the day I finally die?" A small smirk then formed on her lips as she closed her eyes and thought to herself for a moment.

When she opened her eyes she looked at Rio once again. "It's almost like an excuse by this point." Pushing herself off the tree she slowly walked over to Rio, closing the gap between the two of them. "You say you come to see if I have died yet so you can have my body but really..." Slowly Agatha ran her fingers through Rio's hair. "You come because you still love me."

There was a moment where Agatha only saw the person she had loved for so long, the person she felt she could never live without. But then she remembered what Rio had done to her. Pulling her hand back she backed up a little, feeling the pain and hurt all over again. "I did everything you asked of me. I gave you bodies left and right." Feeling the anger build up inside of her once more she found herself unable to stop herself.

" I loved you ! I worshipped you ! I did everything you wanted and more! Just so you could turn around and take everything from me. Not only did my son died that day but so did my love for you and everything else I held so dear. "

----> @lumiroleplays <3

[caroldantops]

i just think. agatha with sub reader who is equally as crazy as her. agatha with a sub who is hyperpossessive, who hates when agatha has to be all buddy buddy with wanda to concoct her evil plans. agatha with a sub who is downright cold - maybe even threatning at a certain point - to wanda because she thinks wanda is getting too Close - even though agatha assures her its all part of the act. agatha with a sub who is wholly devoted to doing anything, anything agatha needs. agatha with a sub who leaves marks all over her, hickies on her neck and nail marks down her back. agatha and her sub who would both kill for each other. yandere agatha with her yandere sub ❤️

[laurabenanti]

i love when tragedies are like —

happy birthday, @elssbethtascioni ❤

[florencebirdsong]

“The summoning spell. We left the door open.”

What do you mean you left the door open??? There’s a thousand years of experience between you all!!!

[thestarlightforge]

Who would’ve thought the end of the Michael Waldron/Sam Raimi Multiverse of Madness saga/debacle/reign of terror would be a gaggle of lesbians spending 3 years crafting THE most elaborate “go f*** yourselves 😌✨” the comic book industry has seen in Two Decades 😭

[liigamentum]

Starter | Muse: Agatha Harkness

"...Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes!"

Agatha truly couldn't believe what she was seeing, and was desperately trying to keep her composure. This was, after all, a person who she's been told was long-dead. Gone from this world. Kaput! So, to see her here, and in the flesh. Very much alive. It made Agatha feel a little tense, because she could remember the anger from before. The power that was too much to handle, and still she wanted it even now.

"It's been a few years, huh! Lots of things have happened, since you disappeared, dear."

@hcrctic

[sersi]

The Costumes of the Marvel Cinematic Universe: Agatha Harkness (2021 - 2024)

Featuring costume design by Mayes C. Rubeo (WandaVision) and Daniel Selon (Agatha All Along).

[covenofagatha]

Birthday Girl

On your 21st birthday, your friends drag you to a bar to get wasted when you decide it's a good idea to drunk-call Professor Agatha Harkness.

Word count: 3400+

Warnings: smut, fingering, oral, intoxication, mentions of underage drinking, teacher x student (legal)

“One, two, three!” Wanda chants and you and your friends tap your shot glasses on the bar counter and quickly down them. 

You gasp at the burn and they laugh at you. It’s your 21st birthday and your best friends Wanda, Rio, and Natasha had dragged you out to the closest bar to get you wasted. They had all already turned 21 the year before; you were the baby in the group. 

“Fuck, that’s disgusting,” you groan. 

“Another round, please!” Rio motions to the bartender. He sets down four more tequila shots and one is shoved into your hand. 

“Think you can get to 21?” Wanda jokes and the thought of 20 more shots makes you want to gag. 

“I might puke after this one,” you say and your friends laugh. You were never a partier in high school or college, always preferring to curl up on the couch and watch a movie. You’d only had some sips of alcohol a few times, but you had never been drunk. 

“You deserve this!” Nat shouts in your ear. “Harkness has been working you to the bone!” 

You shrug and wave your hand dismissively, suddenly uncomfortable. Agatha Harkness is your History of Witchcraft professor at Westview University. She’s known around campus for being cold to everyone and rarely giving out A’s. She expected nothing short of excellence and would not put up with excuses. Everyone was terrified of her. 

Everyone except for you. 

Something about the older woman captivated you. You were obsessed with meeting her standards, dreaming of the day she would look at you with pride. You poured over your books for her class, rereading every sentence you wrote thrice, just to try to impress her. It had taken your friends days of begging to convince you to come celebrate your birthday with them because you had a paper for Agatha’s class due in a week and you were already worried about it. 

“I don’t know how you’re surviving,” Wanda says. “I had her last semester and got a C in the class. Third highest grade. She’s the worst.” 

“She’s not that bad,” you defend, not quite sure why. Something about Agatha getting so much hate for pushing her students rubs you the wrong way. 

“Yeah she is,” Rio joins in. “I heard that she’s a real witch.”

You roll your eyes. “Can we please stop talking about her? I thought you guys brought me here to get away from school.” You take the shot that’s still in your hand and it goes down smoother this time. 

“Yes, there we go!” Rio whoops. 

Two more shots later and your head has gone completely fuzzy. You feel as if you are floating on air and everything around you is happening in slow motion. You get off your stool and immediately stumble, Wanda catching you with her arms. 

“I think I’m a little drunk,” you tell her. She laughs like it’s the funniest thing you’ve ever heard. 

“No shit, y/n, you don’t have to yell!” 

You didn’t even realize you had. “We should probably go back to the dorms!” You look around to see Nat chatting with some girl and Rio throwing darts at the board in the corner. 

“Not yet,” Wanda says, picking up her rum and coke. You’re not sure how she’s still drinking after she also did four tequila shots. “I’ll get you some water.” She signals to the bartender and you squeeze your eyes shut, willing your vision to go back to normal. 

When you open them, you see dark hair in the corner. Is that–? You shift so you can get a better look and feel sorely disappointed when you realize the person is not Agatha. Why are you disappointed? The thought echoes in your head for a second, and then is replaced by a sudden urge to see your professor. 

“Drink this,” Wanda orders, pressing a glass of ice water into your hand, but you’re too busy scrolling through your phone. You know she put her number on the syllabus somewhere and you are too far gone to think that this might be a bad idea. 

You feel a thrill run through you when you find it. You read the number over and over, like you’re afraid it’s going to change somehow. 

“I’ll be back,” you slur to Wanda and then step out the side door into the alley. You type the number into your phone and your finger hesitates over the call button. You know you shouldn’t. But fuck it. You press the button and lift the phone to your ear. 

It rings. And then rings again. You’re about to hang up to spare yourself the rejection when the call connects. 

“Hello?” It’s actually her. 

Your breath catches in your throat and you stand up straighter. “Professor Harkness?” 

“Y/n? Is that you?” 

“Yeah.” Shit, this was a bad idea. Even with your head still swimming, you know that. You can’t just hang up though. 

“Why are you calling me at 10:30 on a Saturday night?” 

“Um,” you say, trying to think of something. You’re definitely going to have to drop her class after this. You’ll never be able to face her ever again. “It’s my birthday?” You offer lamely. 

Agatha scoffs. “Happy birthday. Can I help you with something?”

“Oh, no, Professor, I just wanted – we’re at a bar – I thought you were – and just wanted to say hi,” you ramble, knowing you’re not making any sense, and you can almost hear her smirk through the phone. 

“Y/n, are you drunk right now?” Her voice perks up and it sounds like she’s finally interested. 

“No!” you protest. “Well, maybe a little. But I’m 21 now!” 

“What bar are you at?” 

“Jimmy’s.” It’s a local dive bar that is a popular place for Westview students to hang out at. 

“I’ll be there in ten. Wait out front.” There’s a click and then she’s gone. You stare at your phone, dumbfounded. Is Agatha coming to pick you up? Why?

You walk back into the bar and order a Dirty Shirley. The call had sobered you up a bit and if you had already drunk-called your professor, why not get even more hammered. Wanda comes back over to you and giggles when she sees the new drink in your hand. 

“Alright, time to party!” she exclaims. You pick up on the fact that she’s a little drunk as well. You stand up, vision blurring for a second. 

“I actually called an uber,” you lie, even through your hazy mind knowing that your professor coming to pick you up might sound strange to them.

Wanda pouts and then throws her arms around you. “Happy birthday,” she says into your ear and your arms tighten around her. 

“Thank you,” you breathe back. You’re close with Rio and Nat as well, but they don’t have the same bond you and Wanda do. You pull back and then go say goodbye to your other friends. 

The wind outside does very little to sober you up and you shiver from the coldness. You’re wearing a purple crop-top and a black mini-skirt, something Nat had found buried deep in your closet. You watch the time on your phone, heartbeat picking up as it gets closer to ten minutes since Agatha had hung up on you. 

And then right on the dot, a slick black Range Rover pulls into the parking lot, and you immediately know it’s her. The car stops right in front of you, the passenger window rolling down, and your breath catches. 

It’s Professor Harkness, clad in a maroon suit, wavy hair falling over her shoulders. 

“Do you need me to open the door for you, too, princess?” Agatha says, sarcasm dripping over the words, when you haven’t moved. You shake your head, partly to answer and partly to clear the fog. You settle into the seat, not missing the way Agatha’s eyes rake over your skimpily clothed body.

“You didn’t have to come get me,” you mutter, putting real effort into not slurring your words. 

She glances at you and sees you struggling with your seatbelt. She reaches over and you freeze at her close proximity. Her breath is hot against your cheek and her fingers brush your stomach as she takes the seat belt from your hand and buckles it for you. “Thought I would spare the other people you drunk-called,” she says. 

Embarrassment runs through you. “You were the only one,” you say meekly, picking at a scab on your hand. You dare to peek at her, only to find her smirking, one eyebrow quirked. 

“Oh?”

“I shouldn’t have called.” This time, it’s harder to keep your words from running together. “We were talking about you and then I thought I saw you and I just wanted to see you.” You need to stop talking, now. 

Agatha hums. “Did you, now?” She tucks a piece of hair behind her ears as she shifts the car into drive and you watch her fingers. 

“You’re really hot,” you blurt out and then clamp a hand over your mouth. Fuck. 

Instead of pulling over and making you get out, like you thought she would, Agatha simply reaches over and pats your leg. “And you’re really drunk, sweetheart.” 

The pet name makes you swoon inwardly. “Not that drunk,” you say unconvincingly. “I only had one…two…” You trail off, attempting to count the number of drinks on your fingers. Agatha stifles a chuckle. 

“Is this your first time drinking?” She asks, amused. 

“No, but it is my first time drinking this much,” you admit. “My friends dragged me out since it’s my birthday. I was going to work on the essay for your class.” 

“You were going to spend your 21st birthday doing school work?” 

“Your essay’s due in a week. I wanted to make sure I-it was good enough for you.” 

She notices your slip of tongue and her smirk sends heat down low in your stomach. “You’re always good for me. Your essays are some of the best I’ve ever read.” 

Your heart skips a beat and your face flushes. “I have a B in your class.” 

“You have an 88 in my class. That’s the highest I’ve had in years. Can’t make it too easy,” she says with a wink. 

“You could make it just a little easier,” you grumble, the alcohol clearly getting rid of any inhibitions. 

“You keep doing what you’re doing, sweetheart, and it’ll go up, I promise. I’m very impressed with the work you’ve been turning in.”

A hot flash runs through you. “Just wanna be your good girl.” And if it wasn’t clear how you feel about her now, it sure is. But she doesn’t look disgusted or creeped out, only intrigued. 

She finally stops the car and you peer out the window, expecting to see your dorm. You haven’t been paying attention to where she’s been driving at all, and you’re quite surprised to see you’ve arrived at a two-story house in a cute, suburban neighborhood. 

“This isn’t where I live,” you say dumbly. 

“No, it’s not,” she agrees, getting out of the car and walking over to help you. You stumble up the steps to the front door, Agatha’s tight grip on your shoulder keeping you upright. You can feel her fingers playing with the ends of your hair. 

She unlocks the front door just as a wave of nausea hits you. “Oh, god,” you say weakly, holding a hand in front of your mouth. Agatha doesn’t even seem phased; she leads you to a bathroom in the hall and leaves, only to re-enter with a glass of water moments later. You gulp it down and feel better. 

“You okay?” she asks softly, stroking your cheek, eyes tracing up and down your face. You’ve never seen this side of her and you really like it. 

“I think so. Thank you again,” you murmur and you realize that you’ve been staring at her mouth. 

“Anything for my favorite student.” 

And then, because you’re apparently determined to fuck everything up even more, you lean in and press your lips to hers. Agatha stands still for a second before you pull back, horrified with yourself. 

“Professor, I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to–” 

She draws you back in for a longer kiss this time, tongue licking into your mouth. You let out a long moan and she breaks away. 

“You’re drunk,” she tells you again.

You clasp the lapels of her blazer. “I know. But I want you.” 

She softly pries your fingers off her suit and smiles. “You need to sleep. And then we can talk about this in the morning.” 

You pout and she runs her thumb over your bottom lip, slightly pulling it down. You suck her finger into your mouth, delighting in the way her eyes darken. She steps back.

“Let’s go. You can sleep in the guest room. I’ll find you some pajamas and toiletries.” Her hand on the small of your back guides you up the stairs and to the room on the right. The guest room is simple but cozy and you immediately go to the bed and flop onto it. “Don’t fall asleep yet,” Agatha warns and then leaves the room. 

She comes back in a few minutes, an old shirt and sweatpants in one hand and a toothbrush and toothpaste in the other. She pats your legs in an effort to get you up but you can barely move, suddenly weighed down by all the drinks. 

“Come on, hon,” Agatha says and helps you stand up. You don’t move as she works to take your shirt and skirt off, your cheeks and upper chest flushing red. You try to cover yourself and she smirks. 

“M’sorry,” you mumble. 

“Don’t be. I’m enjoying the view.” You stare at her longingly, silently begging her to fuck you right there and then, but she helps you step into the sweatpants and pull the shirt over your head. She watches you brush your teeth and moves the covers so you can get into bed. “Do you need anything else?” 

Your hand grabs hers. “Just you,” you try again hopefully, but she chuckles and wrenches free of your grip. 

“Good night, birthday girl,” she whispers and leans down to press a kiss to your forehead. And then she turns off the lights and leaves the room.

You fall asleep immediately. 

***

Sunlight streams through the blinds, waking you up. It takes you a minute to get your bearings and then the events of last night come back to you. 

The bar. Four shots of tequila and half a Dirty Shirley. Calling Agatha and her coming to pick you up and taking you to her house. Kissing her in the downstairs bathroom. Shit. 

You groan, head pounding. You see a container of Advil and a glass of water on the nightstand beside you. You take two Advil and drain the glass, heart warming at the thought of Agatha taking such good care of you. 

And then you remember that your relationship with her will forever be complicated by your actions. 

You solemnly brush your teeth and pull back on the clothes you wore to the bar last night, neatly folding Agatha’s pajamas and placing them on the bed. You hope she hasn’t woken up yet so you can sneak out without her having to tell you how inappropriate you behaved last night. 

No such luck. The second you get downstairs, Agatha perks up from where she’s typing on her laptop on the couch.

“Good morning, darling,” she purrs, shutting her computer. You gulp, taking her outfit in. She’s wearing a robe that ends mid-thigh and the neckline drops low. 

“Hey,” you say casually, trying to hide how much you’re internally freaking out. 

“Do you want something for breakfast? I can cook you something.” She stands up and walks to the kitchen and you follow like a lost puppy. You involuntarily lick your lips at the way her hips are swaying. 

“What are my options?” Your voice is raspy, still feeling hungover. She glances back at you and her eyes dart up and down your body. 

“I can make eggs. Bacon. I think I have pancake mix in the pantry. What would you like?” 

You’re a little confused that she hasn’t scolded you yet. And then you remember something else. She kissed you. 

You swallow hard. Whatever else you may have done last night that you can’t remember, she doesn’t hate you for it. She might even want you back. 

“Are you on the menu?” It comes out before you can even realize what you’re saying. 

Agatha freezes and turns around. You shift your weight nervously, but then you see her pupils blown out. Her eyes are so dark you can barely see any blue. “What?” She asks carefully.

“You kissed me last night,” you say, a little breathless. You have absolutely no idea where this confidence is coming from. “You wouldn’t do anything else cause I was drunk. But I’m not drunk now.” 

She steps toward you and roughly grasps your hair. She tilts your head back, exposing your neck just a tad. “No, you’re not.” She regards you for a second. “You know you’re not going to get extra credit for trying to sleep with your professor.” 

You laugh. “That’s not why I’m doing this.” 

She smirks. “Good.” And then she licks a hot stripe up your neck and bites down, sucking a mark on your skin. You gasp loudly and tangle your hands into her hair. 

“Professor,” you moan and you drag her into a filthy kiss. She backs you up until your thighs hit the table so she lifts you up onto it. Your legs wrap around her to pull her closer. Agatha pushes up your crop-top and kneads your breast, thumb stroking your nipple, never once breaking your kiss.

Her hand creeps under your skirt and cups your mound over your underwear. Your hips jump on their own at the stimulation. 

“Please,” you beg. Her lips curl into a smile. 

“What do you want?” Her fingers have pushed your underwear to the side and have started lazily stroking through your folds, spreading your wetness. 

“You,” is all you can say before she sinks a finger into your hole. 

“Like this?” She asks innocently, thrusting hard. 

“Yes,” you pant, quickly untying her robe so you can touch her. She’s completely naked underneath and you lean down so you can take a nipple into your mouth. 

“That’s perfect, baby,” she sighs, setting a relentless pace with her fingers after she slips another one in you. “Is this what you hoped would happen when you called me last night?”

“I’ve been hoping for this since the first day of the semester,” you answer, and she falters for a second, thrown off by your honesty. 

She pulls out of you and panic runs through you, terrified that you said the wrong thing. But she just pushes you down so your back is resting on the table and she pulls out one of the chairs from the table. 

“What are you–” Before you can finish your sentence, she leans forward and sucks your clit into her mouth. Your back arches off the table, hands rushing down to hold her in place. “Fuck, Professor!” 

She devours your pussy like she’s a starving woman, pulling all sorts of loud noises from you. 

“Oh my god, I’m gonna cum,” you chant, hips grinding on her face, trying to get the last bit of stimulation you need to send you over the edge. She knows what you need and presses her fingers inside you, curling them just right and gives your clit a hard last lick. You cum harder than you ever have before, her name on your lips like a prayer. She helps you ride through the aftershocks and then trails kisses up your body until she can kiss your mouth. 

“How was that?” she asks after you pull away to catch your breath. 

“That was probably the best birthday present I’ve ever gotten,” you say, which cracks both of you up. “But I’m not finished.” 

Her eyebrow quirks up and she smirks. “Oh?” You stand up, putting your hands on her hips and flipping her around so she’s leaning against the table. 

You sink to your knees in front of you, not even bothering with a chair. You slowly push her robe up so it bunches at her waist. “Can I return the favor?” 

A glint appears in her eye and she fists one of her hands in your hair preemptively. “I’d like nothing more.”