#dark!agatha harkness x reader

[swiftdove]

collateral damage

pairing: rio vidal x agatha harkness x fem!reader

summary: after being stranded by your ex-lovers, you've found a new life, hoping to finally move on. unfortunately, fate just doesn't seem to be on your side.

content: angst, allusions to smut, sapphic yearning

a/n: i'm obsessed to say the least

You should've known.

From the moment Agatha stepped foot into your pitiful excuse of a store, you should've slammed the door shut. For years, you'd been reeling from the wounds inflicted by your so-called lover. If you could even call her that. Never, did she once, refer to you as anything other than her 'pet'.

You supposed the name was fitting. You were practically a dog, groveling at the ground she walked on. Hoping, begging, praying, dying that she wouldn't leave. 

Then, without a trace, she vanished from your life, set on her next twisted mission. You had simply been a means to an end, a brief footnote in her life. 

It didn't help that the only other person you cared about, Rio, had followed in Agatha's absence. They'd left you alone, desperately trying to piece together the shattered remains of what you once had. 

Sometimes, you wondered. You wondered if they ever felt guilty about what they did, and if they ever thought of you from time to time. Then, you scolded yourself for even daring to believe that the Agatha Harkness and Rio Vidal would have the time of day to care about you. You had drowned in that pit of self-deprecation for years, slowly re-learning how to live without them. 

And just as you thought you were finally free, the wretched witch came back, pulling you back under her spell. If it were anyone else, you would have said 'no'. But it wasn't just 'anyone else'. It was Agatha. You weren't sure where this sick, borderline-obsessive love for her came from. You had left it to depreciate in the back of your mind, where you would have preferred for it to have stayed.

Unfortunately, Agatha had had other plans.

It was stupid. You hated yourself for it.  You hated that tiny spark that you felt when she said your name, that familiar warmth in your chest when she came close. You would've given anything to stop the feeling.

If only Agatha knew. Throughout her long, melodramatic speech about the rewards of The Road, all you could do was stare at her in disbelief. The promise of being with her, even if it were for a short while, was enough to have convinced you. If you had known, back then, that Rio would have been joining you, you would have eagerly accepted the offer without hesitating.

But then again, time had cast a golden glow over your past relationships. You hadn't remembered how unwanted you had felt in their presence, how much they hadn't cared about you.

Sat around the warmth heat of the fireplace, your gaze lay wistfully on the two women. Situated across from them, you felt more distant to them than you had when you were alone.

"I have a scar," Rio suddenly spoke, glancing over at the coven.

"No, you don't," Agatha shot back, almost instantly. 

Your ears perked, waiting for Rio's next words.

"Yes, I do," Rio replied, glancing over at Agatha, her solemn gaze worth a thousand unspoken words. It was their dynamic, their silent conversations, that left you feeling like a second-choice. The feeling settled into the pit of your stomach, which you desperately tried to keep from coming back up.

"A long time ago, I loved someone." Rio shot another pointed look at Agatha. "And I had to do something that I did not wanna do, even though it was my job. And it hurt them. She is my scar."

If you had the choice to go deaf right there and then, you would have chosen it immediately. Although, you knew it wouldn't stop the sharp pain you felt in your heart. Seeing them together was enough. 

"I have to go stretch my legs," Agatha said, walking away.

Just like she used to walk away from every problem in her life. Like she did with you.

You couldn't bear it. One more second in their presence, and you were sure you would have thrown up.

"Same," you replied quietly, walking in the opposition direction to your past lover. 

It was only until the warmth of the fire was long gone, that you felt the tears sliding down your cheeks. 

Breaking down into sobs, you brought your knees to your chest, burying your head inside. You shouldn't have come. You should have said no. 

It seemed as though fate was constantly punishing you, tugging at your heartstrings until they threatened to break. You hated that a part of you wanted to hurt them. Just enough, so that you too would have left a scar. But you knew you couldn't do it. You wouldn't. Not after they shared, so intimately, their past with you, letting you devour every fiber of their being.

You knew why they were the way that they were. That's why it hurt so much to watch them, again and again, fall victim to their pasts. That's why you could never leave, knowing how much pain they had endured, knowing that their wounds ran too deep to ever heal.

Sympathy was a knife, stabbed straight into your back when they left you to dry.

"You good?"

You'd been so deep in your emotions, you hadn't noticed the dark shadow looming over you. Swiveling around, you were met with a pair of manic brown eyes.

"Rio," you exhaled, quickly wiping away your tears. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Rio shook her head softly, pushing her tongue against her right cheek. Her fingers trailed up your leg, sending shivers down your spine. 

"Come on, now," she lulled. "You never were much of a good liar."

"Maybe I've changed," you replied sharply, pulling away from her touch.

Rio's grip tightened, her fingernails digging into your thigh. "Maybe you have," she replied dismissively. "Is that why you never called?"

You scoffed, turning away from her piercing stare. "No. We're not doing this - this wasn't my fault. You and Agatha left without saying a word to me. Call me crazy for assuming you were done with me."

"Now there's the Y/N I know," Rio bit back. "Always jumping to conclusions."

You rolled your eyes at her. "What does it matter anyways? You seem perfectly fine without me. I didn't seem to have left a scar."

"Is that what this is about?" Rio questioned, a taunting grin tugging at her lips.

You refused to dignify her question with an answer.

"Aww, was our little baby feeling left out?"

A mocking, cruel voice rang out in the air, one that you knew all too well.

"Fuck off, Agatha," you snapped. You were hardly in the mood to deal with her heartless jests tonight.

"Someone's forgotten their manners," Agatha remarked, her voice laced with venom. 

Rio chuckled, her grip still deathly tight on your thighs. You could feel the blood seeping out of your skin, onto her fingers.

"I wish I could have forgotten you instead," you retorted, unsure where this newfound attitude was coming from. 

"Now, now. Don't get too cocky," Rio warned, although the grin on her face said something entirely different.

You bit back a scoff. "What's this, anyways? Last time I checked, you both hated each other."

The Green Witch shrugged. "We both share a common interest."

Refusing to take anymore of this, you made a move away from them, eager to escape Rio's death grip. Unfortunately, the two witches were unwilling to let you get away so easily.

"Don't," Agatha cautioned, her voice alone enough to stop you in your tracks.

"What do you want?" you snapped, finally turning towards her.

Your eyes narrowed as Agatha's smile turned into something sinister.

"You," she replied definitively. 

You laughed sarcastically, barely believing what was happening right now. "Are you fucking kidding me? You left me. You can't - I - don't you think we're too far gone now? I mean, you left me wondering where the hell you -"

"We didn't want to leave," Rio interjected.

"Then why did you?" 

"We cared too much about you to stay," Rio explained, gently interlocking your fingers with hers. "It would've only have hurt you."

"Well, you hurt me either way," you replied bitterly, flinching at the coldness of the witch's fingers.

Rio sighed. "I know. I know we did."

Exasperated, Agatha tilted your head up with her fingers, forcing you to look her in the eyes. "Pet, we're sorry."

"Well, sorry doesn't cut it anymore. Not in my books," you snapped, wrenching yourself out of their grasps. "And don't call me that. I'm not your pet."

Without looking back, you walked back towards the fireplace. Unbeknownst to you, the two witches you left behind were hardly satisfied with your answer.

"She's forgotten who she belongs to," Rio murmured, staring into the back of your head.

Agatha tightened her jaw, shaking her head. Her eyes met Rio's, a knowing smirk playing on their lips. 

"It looks like we'll have to teach her a lesson then, hm?"

[ahhhwomen]

hellooo, i wanna request some story, this is kinda dark so basically, Agatha H meets Reader by chance and is very attracted to Reader. Reader doesn't know that Agatha has powers. Reader begins to feel watched and then Agatha kidnaps her. Reader is only conscious from time to time and Agatha is like "Everytime you struggle I will numb you with more magic”... so that's it... add some smut if you want 🫣🥹!!

Pairing: Dark!Agatha Harkness x Fem!Reader

A/N: Is this anything like you asked for.... no. Is it also over a month late... yes. But hey, i added smut :) Also, I made this fem reader since you didn't specify, if that is wrong don't be afraid to tell me and I will change it!

Disclaimer: English is not my first language. All mistakes are my own.

Warnings: Dark, kidnapping, use of magic for restraint (*cough* and smut *cough*), smut, edging, smoking, swearing, dub-con  Minors DNI 18+

Word Count: 2.1k

The fabric dampens as your tongue pushes against it, your teeth clutching the white material tightly, and your eyes scrunch as you push down the desire to scream in frustration.

You are going to kill your neighbor.

With one last clench of your jaw, you release the wet fabric of the pillow and sigh.

The digital clock on your left tells you it’s way past your bedtime. Yet, the booming from the redhead’s loud friends makes it sound like you are in the middle of a frat party.

You drag your hands over your face, the pads of your fingers digging into the skin beneath your eyes and pulling. The hackle of feminine laughter echoes throughout the streets of your little town.

It had been like this for hours on end.

With a huff, you swing your legs over the side of the bed, and your right hand delivers a quick slap to wake yourself even more.

If this is how it is going to be; then you might as well make the most of it.

Curling your toes as the surprising electric shock of cold wood quirks your system, a chill creeps through you, settling deep in your spine. The duvet calling your name must be ignored for now, and with that, you make your way to the kitchen.

Smoke tendrils float among the remaining cloud of puff as deep amber lips pull in another sharp inhale. The hot air burns like a delight through her as she sits in her own bubble.

She was so over it, sitting on the porch with her shoulders leaned back and her cigarette resting easily in her right hand was the first break she had gotten all night, these girls are loud. And not the fun kind.

Hyena cackles pierce her ears as one of Wanda’s many friends tells another miserably boring joke on the other side of the, thankfully, closed door.

“For fucks sake ladies, it’s not that funny” She mumbles to herself as the rest of the women join in on the animalistic laughter, this is the downside of having ears and eyes everywhere, she supposes.

Her right ring finger taps the side of the burning stump, the texture familiar and soothing. Pieces of ash fall like snowflakes, clustering in a pile beside leather boots.

She is just about to stomp the thing out when one of the neighbor’s front door opens with a little too much force. Wood crashes against wood, the planks behind the heavy thing indenting and chipping the paint, as the door slams into the sidewall of the suburb house.

A young woman curses herself as she looks at the damage she caused while trying to balance the multitude of trash bags she is clutching.

With an amused smirk, the older woman leans forward, tilting her body to get the best view of the younger thing. Her blouse shifts and bunches where the silk is hastily stuffed into dress pants worth half of your rent.

You groan as you feel a pair of eyes study you from afar. People these days.

With a puff of air, you blow away the small whisk hairs that cling to your sweaty forehead, “You know, it wouldn’t hurt you to help a girl out.” You turn around to what you assumed was going to be just another one of Wanda’s familiar friends.

She had people over almost every weekend, so some faces were hard to forget, however, when you finally lock eyes with the rude woman, she is nothing like you expected.

With her head thrown back in an almost cruel laughter, you can see the wide expanse of her neck, dark hair falls freely in subtle waves. In one of the hands, the older woman clutches the outer plank of the porch, while the other one grips an almost burned-out cigarette.

You shift from one foot to the other, the weight of trash in your hands almost forgotten as you can’t help but admire her for a moment.

Yeah, she is nothing like the redhead’s other friends at all…

You almost startle as a teasing voice responds to you with delight, “Oh, you are a fun surprise sweet plum.” The woman crushes her cigarette under sturdy black boots, the sizzle of burning leaves dying out much like the flame.

You simply stare at her, even her voice is so different from the other women around these parts.

She struts toward you with confidence even a man couldn’t muster.

Frozen on the spot you would barely notice when she takes two-thirds of the bags if it wasn’t for the way her fingers so deliberately brush against yours. You don’t dare look down, but as you feel cool metal against your warm skin, you know her fingers are decorated with only the best.

“Excuse my bad manners, let me get that for you, honey.”

Her lip lifts into a mean smirk, and the hint of wrinkles just makes her all the more alluring. You can’t tell if you want to drown in her eyes or run away from them as fast as possible.

She is already halfway down your driveway before you can get a peep out, and you follow with haste.

Throwing both yours and her trash into your big bin at the end of the driveway she asks you if you would like to join her for a smoke, you can tell by the repressed giggle that she doesn’t think you will take her up on it.

Which only makes it all the sweeter when you get to surprise her with an easy, “Yes, I would love to.”

For a moment she is the one frozen to the pavement as she studies you, her eyes squinting as if she believes you to be joking. Her eyes travel up and down your younger frame, pausing for a moment on your chest, but you decide that you probably imagined that bit.

Wishful thinking or whatnot.

A soft tongue swipes across dark red lips before the mysterious woman regains her composure and laughs with mirth, drowning out the other ladies, you can’t help but think she looks beautiful when she laughs like that. All, carefree and happy.

She tilts her head toward you, her hands letting go of the bin´s handle and instead reaching out for you to take,

“Well then sugar, I'm Agatha.”

You take it with as firm of a grip as you can manage, “Y/n.”

That’s how it started, with a cloud of smoke surrounding the both of you while you share silly stories from childhood.

And that was the end of it too, she was funny and sassy, but she never came over much to the Maximoff house, so you figured that would be the end of your little connection.

How naïve you are.

There is audible whining as the deep magic slides against your body, it holds your torso and legs tight against the comforter. You try and free yourself with grasping hands but with a quick turn of the older woman’s delicate wrist the magic shifts and turns until it takes ahold of your wrists and pins them down beside your head.

“Don’t be like this baby…” A smooth voice slithers itself into the vast expanse of your mind, almost like she never said it out loud, just forced it into your thoughts.

The sheets rustle as you wring and struggle. The purple void closes in, tightening around you, forcing you still.

You feel numb as your limbs give in to the older woman.

“Good girl. That’s it, baby…” Your eyes feel heavy, and you can’t seem to keep them open. You feel a warm breath against your midsection as the words glide over warm skin.

Before you can comprehend who, the voice belongs to, the tendrils vibrate against you in excitement, and you gasp for air as they close in on the delicate spot between your legs.

You can’t help the moan that escapes you as one of the stronger tendrils drags itself in an up-and-down motion against your sensitive clit.

You can’t even recall when you stripped your clothes, but the purple sorcery delights in it. The feeling is almost like pure lust submerging itself within you.

It crawls up your body, one sticks to that sticky spot between soft thighs, while the others spread against you. Like wildfire, they spread and absorb your every thought. One of them settles like a set of warm hands against your bare chest. Teasing taught nipples.

Another one forces your mouth open, and slides against your tongue, firming into the feeling of ghost fingers. They drag gently over your lips when they are coated enough.

Then it drifts lower as the one against your clit speeds up.

Your back pulls like a taught string, if this doesn’t let up, you will break soon. The purple tendril against your pulsating weak point hardens. You gasp for air, and finally, you can breathe, the continuous assault against your body is now over, and you relax a little into the sheets.

“Oh fuck!”  Your eyes roll to the back of your skull.

You let out a breathy whine as the purple mystery is replaced by the feeling of wet fingers pushing into you. They force their way past your lips and enter you without any problem.

Another moan fills the heavy air, but this one isn’t from you. It’s deeper, passion laid within it like an accent.

“That’s it, honey, hop like a bunny for me.” When the feeling of cruel eyes prickles the back of your neck, you finally make the connection.

You wake up with a gasp, hands clutching the sheets like your life depends on it.

Your eyebrows scrunch together as you huff in annoyance, if you were going to keep having these dreams, they may as well let you finish. With your eyes still closed, one of your hands releases the smooth silk and glides down your bare stomach, then you stop to a halt.

Placing your hand back on the soft material you open your eyes in wonder, you most definitely do not own silk…

The first thing you see when your senses return to you is expensive sheets, in a deep purple shade, then as your eyes wander your heart races.

This is not your house.

“Ah, you are finally awake.” You startle as the feminine voice calls out to you from across the room.

“That was a close one wasn’t it honey? You are dripping all over the sheets.” Agatha sits in the armchair in front and center of where you lay gasping.

Her legs crossed; she cradles a cup of tea in her left hand. Narrow eyes study you as you scramble to cover yourself only to find that you can’t move any longer.

The deep purple is back as your wrists get pushed back into the bed. The mattress hugging you close as the purple weight of restraint takes hold of you yet again.

The chuckle that escapes Agatha is cruel and unstoppable, it builds within her, crawling up her stomach until she can’t help but voice it. She can see the realization dawn all over your face, the feeling of eyes in the back of your neck, the strange dreams, the never-ending teasing of naughty dreams for her own pleasure.

The lack of memory, the restraint deep within your bones, all because of this woman.

After your little meeting all those weeks ago you had heard stories about her, the rumors, the purple aura that seems to follow her everywhere she goes. However, not once did you believe the petty gossip of the redheads’ other friends, that was your first mistake.

Now you understand, they were all true.

After all…

It was Agatha all along.

And as she pushes herself into your mind yet again and forces you into yet another dream that will keep you just on the edge, Agatha Harkness is one wicked witch.

[w4ndal0ver]

Good Wives Always Know (Wanda x Agatha x Reader)

[minors don't interact, 18+]

pairing: daddy!agatha x mommy!wanda x sub!reader

summary: You didn’t really know what you were expecting when Agatha and Wanda found out you were casually seeing them both at the same time, but you didn’t think it would end up like this. 

content warnings: daddy!agatha, mommy!wanda, humiliation, degradation, praise, choking, breath play, nipple play, vibrator use, strap use, spanking, double penetration, strap sucking, power imbalance, bondage, oral sex, fingering, anal sex, spitting, probably more but read at your own discretion! <3 

 word count: 7k

Good Wives Always Know (Wanda x Agatha x Reader)

You tugged against the restraints tied harshly around your wrists, your face flushed as you were sat naked, wrists tied to either side of the headboard of your bed, the two women looking over you dressed completely. You couldn’t believe you’d been caught, you didn’t expect them to ever find out that you were simultaneously seeing them both. While you’d never confirmed exclusivity to either woman, with the dynamic you shared with both individually it was probably expected. 

“Oh honey, you really thought you could keep this little game going forever? Did you honestly believe we wouldn’t find out.” Wanda coos, perching to the left side of you, smiling in her sickeningly sweet way, her fingers brushing over your burning cheek. 

“Of course she thought that.” Agatha laughs, her chuckle a menacing contrast to Wanda’s calming demeanor. “Look at her Wanda, this little slut probably thought she was being clever.” You whined at the pet name, but your cheeks flushing scarlet as Wanda’s eyes opened wider at the contrast in how your other woman speaks to you, a stark difference to the dynamic you shared with her. 

“I just don’t understand how you found the time baby. Keeping up with me and Agatha.” Wanda spoke, her voice deceptively soft as her head tilts to meet your shamed gaze. “That’s quite the schedule. 

“Time? Oh, please.” Agatha cut in again, neither woman allowing you to speak, “She was probably slipping out of my bed and straight into yours, isn’t that right pet?” With that question she grasps your chin, pulling your face towards hers, her lips pursed as you glares down at you, her hand forcing you to nod in response to her question. You didn’t dare speak, you didn’t even know what to say. 

“Now, now, let's not scare her too much. She’s not used to being called out, are you, sweet girl?” Wanda protests, her hand falling onto your thigh and giving you an encouraging squeeze. The combination of both women was turning your brain completely fuzzy as you felt yourself slipping into a submissive role that was being torn between both dynamics. 

“Sweet? There's nothing sweet about her.” Agatha spits, releasing you from her grip, slapping you hard across the face, the noise alone drawing an elicit moan from your lips before you allow your head to drop, your hair falling across your face. “She’s a dirty little whore who thought she could have it all. Look at her now, squirming like the pathetic mess she is.”

“Let’s not be too hard on her, Agatha.” Wanda pouts, her fingers stroking through your sweat sodden hair. “She’s just inexperienced.”

“Inexperienced?” Agatha scoffs, the rage on her cheeks growing, “She’s been playing this game for ages. We’re just the ones to catch her.” This time, Agatha's hand found its way around your throat, squeezing the sides of your neck at your lack of response to any of their questions, even if they hadn’t given you the time to respond. 

“I’m sorry.” You squeak, gasping on the words that get caught in your restricted throat. 

“Sorry? You’re not sorry, you like playing games, don’t you slut?” Her grip returns harsher and you whine against the palm of her hand, your hips involuntarily bucking upwards. 

“I didn’t-” You struggle breathlessly, trying to respond but you’re unable to underneath the brunettes pressure against your throat. 

“Shh, sweet thing, let Agatha have her fun.” Wanda cuts you off, her voice soothing but taunting at the same time. “She’s just upset because you’ve been so naughty. She only wants to teach you how to behave.” 

A wicked grin spreads across Agatha’s face as she loosens her grip and you splutter at the sudden rush of air. She doesn’t let you go completely, enough to let you catch your breath but still hold you captive against the mattress. “Oh, I’m not done yet. But don’t worry pet, you’ll learn. You’re going to beg us to teach you more by the time we’re through.” Her voice drips with disdain as she lets her other hand trace down your body, stopping just above your waist. 

You feel your skin begin to heat up with both fear and desire, your words unable to contain themselves. “I don’t want to, please, don’t-” You start to squirm under her grip, feeling trapped but exhilarated, your hands tugging harder against the restraints. 

“Stop pretending. You want this and don’t you dare act innocent now when you’ve been sneaking behind our backs.” Agatha’s voice rises in anger again, eyes darkening with jealousy as she looks at Wanda, the soft glow of the redhead's eyes beaming down on you doing nothing but spurring her on. 

“I didn’t mean to, I just wanted you both, I didn’t know-” Your words begin to trail off as you realise how desperate you sound with both women on either side of you, both with their hands on different parts of your body. 

Wanda smiles at the admission, her fingers caressing your face as she leans back just slightly to give Agatha more space. “Oh baby, we know. You just don’t know how to pick one, do you.” Her voice was laced with sweet mockery now, your cheeks glowing pink as her tone began to change, a switch up that you were all too well acquaintanced with. “But now, you’ll learn what happens when you can’t choose. You belong to us, whether you like it or not.”

Agatha's lips curl into a smirk as she leans in, bringing her face close to yours, her voice a sharp whisper, “You don’t get to play both sides anymore, you’re ours now, and we’ll make sure you know exactly what that means.” You whine at her words, her hand inching closer to where you needed her, the exchanges between the two women had made you more desperate than you could ever imagine, arousal dripping down the lengths of your inner thighs. 

“Do you understand sweetheart?” Wanda asks carefully, her fingers brushing your goosebumped skin, the pads of her fingertips edging towards your aching nipples. 

“Yes Mommy.” You reply, your lips rolling against each other as Agatha smirks down at you, her fingers pressing down into your pubic bone, hard enough to leave white marks into your skin. 

“How cute, you’ve got your Mommy and your Daddy.” Agatha smirks, not knowing Wanda’s title to you until your shamed admission through glossy eyes as you can’t pick someone to focus on. “Now your Mommy has been telling me some things about you and how much of a greedy slut you are with her, hm?” Even Wanda squirmed slightly at Agatha’s words, but you, you were a whimpering mess underneath them both. 

“I don’t, I’m not-” You exclaim, batting your eyelashes at Wanda who didn’t give you any soft and calming looks back. 

“You’ve never touched her have you?” Agatha states, two fingers reaching down to stroke the length of your cunt, spreading you apart and gathering your arousal onto her fingers. You shake your head, both you and Wanda knowing that their dynamic was different to yours and Agathas. “But that's what she’s good for Wanda, she's such a good little fucktoy when she wants to be, I use her all the time you should try her.” 

With her words, the pressure of her fingertips grew stronger, planting lazy circles against your clit, being spoken about like you’re not there, not getting the attention that you want was driving you insane. You tried everything to snap them back to you, lifting your hips, trying to get the friction that you desperately craved, but Agatha was good at ignoring you. 

“You’re going to show your Mommy how good that tongue of yours is.” Agatha orders, casually removing her hand from between your legs despite your whines of protest, untying the restraints that had held you captive. As soon as you’d been let free, her hand grabbed a fistful of your hair, shoving you onto your knees. 

As Wanda stood, she unbuckled her belt, removed her trousers and her laced underwear, positioning herself in front of your hung face, her legs open and you were practically drooling at the sight of her opened up in front of you, her arousal reflecting the light. 

“Go on honey, I give you permission.” Wanda spoke calmly, watching as Agatha positioned herself behind you, unknowingly to you. You couldn’t care what Agatha was doing as the permission to touch her was the only thing you could focus on. You didn’t know what Wanda liked, but you just performed what Agatha had taught you when you first met, your tongue licking wide strokes up and down the length of her pussy, groaning at the taste of her. 

Just as you started to drive circles into Wanda’s clit with the tip of your tongue, you felt Agatha’s hand collide harshly with your ass, an unexpected moan forced its way through your lips, vibrating conveniently against Wanda’s cunt. 

“You’ve been seeing your Mommy for ten weeks behind Daddy’s back, so you’re getting ten.” Agatha announces, delivering another quick spank to the other cheek. You moaned again, this time you were joined with a high pitched groan from Wanda, who had fallen back on her arms, her hips lifting to meet where your tongue was circling lightly against your clit. 

“Oh baby you’re making Mommy feel so good.” Wanda gasped as your circles got harder and tighter. Agatha delivered two more spanks to you and you groan increasingly louder with each one and the redhead’s hands fall into the locks of your hair, forcing your face closer to her arousal. You started to suck against her clit, your rhythm being put off once again by another spank. 

“You make Mommy sound so pretty with that whore mouth of yours.” Agatha comments and even Wanda whines at the remark, her cheeks flushed and her neck strained as show throws her head back in pure ecstasy. “Look at your Mommy when you make her cum.” She forces your head up, your tongue remaining firmly against Wanda’s clit, the redhead trembling in front of you as Agatha smacks your ass another three times in quick succession was enough to make you fall apart in between them both. 

You could feel Wanda shaking around you, her thighs clenching harder around your face as Agatha spanked you for the penultimate time. Wanda’s chest rose as you sucked against her clit, grazing your teeth over her nub and that was all she needed, she came tumbling over the edge with a pornographic moan, her hands still buried in your hair as she continued to grind against your tongue as she worked herself through her orgasm. 

Just as you leaned away from her, Agatha slapped your ass harder than she ever had before you and groaned in pain, trying to scurry away from her, but she had a tight grip on your thighs, keeping you in place. 

“God your Daddy was right, you are incredible with your tongue.” Wanda praises, changing her position so she’s lying next to you, her hands caressing the red marks left by Agatha. You pout at the redhead, knowing that you could get yourself out of this punishment if you kept acting sweet and innocent, but Agatha would never fall for it. You were right, of course. 

Agatha flips you onto your back, laying you down harshly against the matress. “Don’t give into her Wanda, she wanted our attention and now she’s got it so let’s see how much she can take.” You watch as Agatha reaches for her wand, handing it over to Wanda and you feel your body squirm as your mind flicks to the countless times Wanda has punished you with this toy, edging you over and over until you’re a pathetic mess begging her to let you come. 

“Come on sweetheart, you know you have to be punished so take it like a good girl.” Wanda beams, her smile calming you as Agatha pries open your legs, holding one so you can’t escape from what was about to happen. You hear the vibrations before you feel them, the anticipation making your body tremble as the brunettes' nails dug harshly into your upper thigh. 

Wanda moves the vibrator an inch so it's pressed lightly up against your clit and you whine so desperately to the pleasure that was coursing through your body. You were already so desperate, your arousal leaking and smothering your thighs from being spanked so harshly, your clit pulsating against the vibrations as Wanda pressed the head of the toy harder against you. 

Agatha started to play with your hardened nipples, she was never gentle with you. Her nails were scratching against your nubs, her fingers rolling them harshly. The addition of Agatha’s harsh pulls and twists against your breasts and the increasing vibrations pulsating through your cunt was bringing you unashamedly close to the edge as your thighs begin to tremble, Agatha slaps your erect nipple, making you gasp and try not to tumble over the edge. Before you could even think about it, Wanda removed the vibrator from you, her familiar mockingly sad pout looming over you as Agatha continued to play with your nipples. 

Wanda gives you a few seconds to reset before placing the vibrator back against your clit as your hips buck subconsciously to meet the toy. “Do you like being the center of attention? Having both of us watching your every move?” Wanda asks, her voice slick with a sweet mockery of your current state as you nod so hard you almost pass out.

“Oh she loves it. Look at her.” Agatha jeers, leaning down to bite your right nipple, drawing a high pitched squeal from your throat, “She’s practically begging for more.” 

You felt yourself getting close again, but before you could get there Wanda removed the vibrator once more. You were frustrated, your cheeks flushed, your forehead slick with sweat. You start whining but Agatha grasps your mouth with her flat palm, forcing your whines to be muffled by her strop grip as Wanda places the vibrator against you again. 

You get close embarrassingly fast, not being given enough time to recover. You start trembling and moaning against Agatha’s hand, but before you are given any sort of release the vibrator is removed from you again. Wanda can’t help but laugh at your body sprawled across the mattress, Agatha’s fingers still pulling at your nipples. 

“Please Mommy, I can’t, I need to come, please.” You beg, knowing that it usually worked with Wanda, tactfully choosing not to address Agatha because you know what the answer would be. 

“Okay sweetheart, this time you can come for Mommy okay.” You nod enthusiastically, opening your legs up wider and you can hear Agatha scoff in disbelief at how easily Wanda had caved from one line of pathetic begging. You felt the vibrator again, this time your body relaxed into it, allowing the pleasure to take over your body. You were a stuttering mess, your body squirming despite both womens harsh grips on your skin in an attempt to keep you still. 

This time when you get close, you let your body take over and the orgasm rips fiercely through your body, your muscles contorting from the relief of frustration. Just as Wanda went to turn the vibrator off, Agatha grabs if from Wanda, finding the dial and turning it up to the maximum speed and pressing it hard against your sensitive clit. 

“No way, Daddy is not letting you get off that easy.” Agatha smirks as you do everything you can to get away from the strength of the toy that was being pressed so harshly against you it was painful. Your legs start thrashing against the bed, but Agatha doesn’t stop, she just laughs at your struggle. 

“Please forgive me Daddy, I can’t” You whine desperately, tears forming in your eyes as another painful orgasm rushed through your body against your will, but she still doesn’t give in, she keeps her strong grip on the vibrator, not allowing you to escape from her. 

“You know the word if you can’t do it.” Agatha says, waiting impatiently for a safeword to come out of your mouth, but as she expected, she was met with radio silence, “Yeah thats what I thought you fucking whore, take it like the little slut you are for Daddy.” Agatha laughs as she pushes even harder and you scream in desperation as you feel another orgasm getting dangerously close to your sensitive cunt, you weren’t even sure if you could manage another one. 

Wanda started to draw circles into your skin, her instincts kicking in when she sees a tear stream down your face. She goes to wipe it from your cheek, but Agatha stops her with her spare hand. “Look at how pathetic she looks when she cries, she’s so easy to break.” Agatha says as more tears stream down your cheeks. Wanda manages to brush a few away from your cheek much to Agatha’s distaste. 

“I’ve never seen her like this before, she looks so helpless.” Wanda comments as your body shakes underneath the vibrator, the pain and pleasure combining too much and you’re so overstimulated you can’t help but let the tears fall. 

“Helpless? No doll, she’s nothing more than our slutty little toy and she’s ours to break, look at her, it's pathetic.” With that, she spits at you, her saliva mixing with your tears on your face. This time you’re met with Wanda looking down at you, a satisfied hum leaving her throat as she finally sees what Agatha means. You were done for, if Agatha could convert Wanda so easily, you didn’t know if you’d ever get out of it. 

“I can’t do it Daddy, I’m so close I can’t do it again.” You whine in desperation as another orgasm tried to break you, but you were holding it back so you didn’t have to feel the sensitivity afterwards again. 

“God you’re so pathetic.” Agatha growls, turning the vibrator off and you can breathe again, your aching cunt dripping down onto the bed sheets. You’re barely given a moment to recover before Agatha is unbuckling her belt and forcing you up onto your knees. “It’s a shame, I was going to fuck you after one more orgasm.” Agatha laughed, motioning towards your favourite purple strap that was waiting for you, already attached to the harness. 

“No wait Daddy, Please I’ll do it, I’m sorry.” You whine, you knew this was Agatha messing with your head but your fuzzy state of mind couldn’t see past it, the only thing you knew how to do was beg, even if they called you pathetic. She ignored your attempts, holding her belt between her hands before buckling it back around your hands as she tugged them behind your back, tightening it so you couldn’t move them. You winced at the stretch, but you got no sympathy in return. 

“No its okay sweetheart, you can watch while Mommy gets fucked by Daddy instead of you.” Wanda coos and you could have almost combusted on the spot. You try to move, but your hands behind your back put you off balance and you realise your fate as Agatha slips herself into the harness, lubing it up as Wanda arches her back on the mattress. You couldn’t even whine anymore, your silence was astronomical as you watched the scene play out in front of you. 

Agatha isn’t rough with Wanda, she treats her with respect, knowing the redhead deserved it. “Agatha, no teasing.” Wanda demands as she feels the head of the strap rubbing against her pussy, and Agatha immediately complies, pushing the length of the cock inside of her and relishing in the pornographic sounds that erupted from the redhead's mouth. Wanda’s fingernails dug into the bedsheets, gripping fistfuls of the duvet underneath her as she felt Agatha’s hips begin to thrust gently into her. 

“Fuck you’re so tight for me,” Agatha groans, finding the strength to double her efforts and thrust harder into the redhead, feeling how desperate she was for her. “Makes a change fucking someone who isn’t a pathetic fucktoy.” Agatha shoots her words at you as she squirm against the mattress, your knees begin to ache and your shoulders pulling backwards at un uncomforting level. “You like watching Daddy fuck Mommy huh?” Agatha asks you and Wanda’s blissed out face turns to look at you writhing in your restraints.

“Let me see how wet you are, open those legs for Mommy.” Wanda manages to get out in a fairly casual manner considering Agatha is basically pounding into her now, her hands on her waist, forcing her back onto her cock to meet her thrusts. You do as she says, the wet patch forming underneath you a good enough indicator of how much this was turning you on. 

At the sight of you, to Wanda’s delight, Agatha got rougher with her thrusts, her hand snaking round her body to circle her clit with the tips of two of her fingers. That was all it took, Wanda came crashing around the brunette's cock, her moans unashamedly loud and Agatha looks fairly satisfied with both of your reactions. Before she had a chance to pull out, Wanda lifted her body up with Agatha’s cock still buried inside of her, turning her head to place a kiss against her lips. 

That was only the beginning as the brunette reciprocated, grabbing the back of her neck and tracing her tongue against the surface of Wanda’s, both of them moaning into each other's mouths as Wanda grinded against the base of the strap. That turned you on more than watching them have sex, the way they moulded together in a fierce fight of dominance. Your desperate whines pull them away from each other, both their eyes falling on you. 

To your disappointment, Agatha shimmied her way out of her harness, leaving her wearing her shirt and laced underwear, a small damp patch revealing itself to you and you were ready to give Agatha everything you know she needed. The brunette watched as you licked your lips at the sight of her dampened underwear and she stripped them from her cunt, throwing them to the side before guiding you onto your front, your hands still restrained behind your back. 

“You’re going to make Daddy come as a thank you from me sweetheart.” Wanda said, tucking your hair behind your ear, as Agatha leaned backwards, her legs spread as the redhead helped you into position. She undoes the belt, allowing you to lean on your elbows as you kiss Agatha’s clit, her arousal seeping into your lips. She didn’t like it when you rushed, and you knew how desperate she was for it and how you’d be more likely to get what you want if you please her. 

“Put that mouth to good use slut.” Agatha growls through her desperation, scratching her nails through your hair and digging into your scalp to keep your face in position as you lick swirls through her folds. Unlike Wanda, Agatha rarely made a sound, she just went silent, her eyes always remaining on you through hooded eyes, giving you no satisfaction for making her cum. 

“While you make your Daddy feel good, we’re going to show her what we like to do together when you’re really desperate.” Wanda breathes into your ear, her body slick against yours, biting your earlobe before grabbing your ass and your eyes widened as your tongue worked hard against Agatha’s wet cunt. “Because I can feel how desperate you are.” Wanda smirked, two fingers reaching for your entrance, swiping at your dripping arousal before sucking her fingers into her mouth to taste your desperation plain and simple. 

She starts to push her fingers towards your entrance, before she stops, gathering enough arousal between her fingertips before allowing one of them to graze the rim of your second hole and you groan into Agatha’s pussy, the vibrations making her legs twitch. “You want me in here, don't you love.” Wanda teased, pressing lightly against your asshole, something which you’d never let Agatha do. You nod, your tongue beginning large circles around Agatha’s clit, still remaining slow and composed against her cunt, knowing better than to speed up without instruction.

“I wanna show Daddy.” You say, lifting up to take a breath, but you were immediately forced back down by Agatha’s quick hands and your tongue knows to continue before your brain can tell you to. 

You could feel Wanda shifting her weight behind you before palming the soft skin of your ass a few times before spreading it. The sound which left your mouth and reverberated off of Agatha’s cunt as Wanda pressed her tongue against your asshole was bordering on humiliating. You pussy clenched around nothing, aching at the way she teased your rim. 

Wanda hummed against your skin before pulling back to rub a slick finger against it. “You take it so well, don’t you? You like getting your ass fucked by Mommy?”

The flush she brought to your cheeks had you squirming, but your tongue remained present on Agatha’s clit, the tug she had on your hair made you speed up just a fraction, the tremble in her thighs spurring you on. 

Wanda reached round your body to circle your clit in order to distract you from the way her fingertip dipped inside. She was efficient with it, working it deeper and deeper until you could feel her knuckle against your skin. Your pussy tightened with every gentle thrust as she worked, dripping down to where her other hand slid across your clit. 

By the time she lined a second finger alongside the first, Agatha was letting out the prettiest little grunts. You watched for a while, enjoying the rock of her hips and the wet noises your tongue made against her heat. You groaned desperately when you felt Wanda’s second finger stretching deep inside of you. 

She was working hard to stretch you out, knowing what would be coming next, but you didn’t. Before you could even question why Wanda was preparing you up, Agatha’s chest was rising and falling at a rapid pace and her hands in your hair gripped tightly and you knew she was close. You continued the exact rhythm you’d found with your tongue and within a few seconds Agatha’s thighs were trembling before trapping your head between her legs while you sent her over the edge with a few breathy moans, your head transfixed into face as Wanda stretched you out with her two fingers. 

As soon as Agatha recovered, Wanda gently pulled out of you and before you could protest at the emptiness, the brunette pulled you onto her body, colliding her lips with yours so she could taste herself on your tongue.

“Are you ready to make it up to us like the dirty little whore you are?” Agatha pulled away and whispered into your ear. You nodded desperately and before you could move yourself, Agatha grabbed a fistfull of your hair and forced you onto the floor on your already sore knees. You grunted at the pain, but you received nothing as you watched both women put on harnesses, Agatha's purple one a lot bigger than Wanda’s pale pink dildo.

You sat and waited in anticipation, falling against the heels of your feet, your hands remaining on your thighs. Both women, strapped up, sit themselves next to each other at the foot of the bed, looking down at you on your knees. 

“She’s got so much potential, doesn’t she?” Wanda said and your face flushed pink at the praise, your eyes meeting Wanda’s and you were met with the kind gentle face you were used to. 

“Potential?” Agatha scoffed, “Sure, if you mean as a toy for us to use.” Your face flushed a darker red, changing your gaze to meet Agatha’s unforgiving smirk. “Come on slut , you know what to do.” Agatha smiled, looking down at her cock, waiting for you to clasp your lips around it. 

So you do exactly that, taking just the head into your mouth, licking around the top as if she could actually feel it before bobbing your head down further to take as much of her in as you could. Once you’d adjusted, she grabbed your hair, pushing you further down the shaft until you choked and spluttered against the strap. She lets you up for air, before Wanda guides your face towards her cock, gently forcing you to do the same thing on her. You oblige, not once closing your mouth as the two women take turns in having your lips around their cocks.

“Oh you poor thing,” Wanda cooed as tears began to stream down your face as you spluttered around her dildo for the second time, before Agatha grabs you and forces her cock into your mouth with a harsh thrust. The ache in your core growing and growing. “You needed two of us to take charge and put you in your place, didn’t you.” Despite Agatha's cock sliding further down your throat you manage to nod at Wanda's words. 

“And this is your place, desperately sucking on Mommy and Daddy’s cocks before we fuck you with them.” Agatha jeers and the words make you choke and they stop. You sit against your heels again, a mixture of saliva and tears running down your face as you look up at both of them who just look so unbelievably satisfied with themselves. They’d almost broken you. 

You get pulled back up onto the bed, forced onto your front so your head is buried in the pillows that had fallen out of place into the middle of the bed. Wanda shifted behind you, swinging a leg over your own and steadying herself with a hand against your back. Agatha walks around the side of the bed, sitting against the end, right next to where your head was lying. 

Slick fingers pressed into your asshole again, Wanda was relatively careful, checking with you over and over that you could take her fingers with relative ease before the blunt head of her toy pressed against your rim. 

“Don’t be shy.” Wanda encouraged, looking at how your face was being pushed into the pillows. 

“Daddy wants to see your face when she fills up your ass.” Agatha snarked from above and as much as you rolled your eyes, there was no getting away from it as two fingers pressed under your chin and she forced you to look directly into her eyes. 

The slightest increase against your asshole and you were fighting Agatha’s grip, not able to keep eye contact, but she was firm on you looking at her as Wanda’s hand groped at your asscheek, spreading you even wider so she could see you stretch around the tip of her cock. 

Wanda pressed deeper, but not by much. Her hands wrapped around your hips, caressing the skin while her cock rocked gently. 

“More please Mommy.” You grunt, pressing your ass back to heighten the intensity. You met Agatha’s smirk and with a few more gentle rocks you whined at the feeling of her hips pressed against your ass, the way her strap stretched around you, and the clench of your empty pussy. There was a temptation to bury your face into the pillows, but you’d never seen Agatha’s eyes light up the way they were right now. 

“Tell Daddy how much you like it when Mommy fucks you like this.” Wanda gasps, wrapping her hands around your hips, working her cock steadily until there was no stretch to speak of, just the rhythmic shift of her. 

“I love it when Mommy fucks me like this.” You stutter through breathy moans, but there was a reason Agatha had started moving towards you and you knew what was coming. 

You were aware of how your cunt was dripping onto the sheets, your spread knees meaning it had no stimulation whatsoever as Wanda fucked your other hole. Agatha kneed her way closer, “Look at you, this is the sluttiest I’ve ever seen you.” 

You whine as you let their hands coax you up until you are sandwiched between them. Your back arched, pressing your bare chest against Agatha as she pushed the pillows out of the way. One hand held her shoulder, the other reaching back to feel Wanda's strong grip on your hip as she kept her gentle rhythm. 

“You’re dripping you fucking whore.” Agatha sneered, teasing your opening with her fingers. Her grin was wolfish and unforgiving.

“Daddy.” You panted.

Her fingers pulled back to circle over your drowned clit, just the slick slip of her skin against yours was driving you insane. She was drinking in the desperate buck of your hips as the head of her cock brushed past your folds as Wanda kept a tight grip of you as she fucked your ass. 

“Please Daddy, I wanna be full, I want both of you inside of me-” 

Before you can finish begging, Agatha guides her strap into your entrance and your eyes roll to the back of your head, your skull resting back on Wanda’s shoulder as Agatha works her way inside of you, both of them finding the same rhythm with each other. 

“You’re so lucky to have both of us, you know that right?” Wanda pants as she watches in awe at the way your body trembled as both women thrust inside of you at the same time.

“Fuck yes.” You gasped.

You could barely breathe, you could’ve cried at the sensation. Not fast or aimed enough to be pleasurable, but deep enough to make you crave them both. Every shift of Agatha’s cock inside of you was a reminder of the other one. 

“You act like a whore you get treated like a whore, is that why you did this?” Agatha asks, leaning down between thrusts to lick at your nipples teasingly while her hand dipped between your legs and kindly circled your clit. You nod, earning you a swift sharp thrust into your pussy making you whine in pleasure as they sped up their adjoined rhythm. “You’re nothing but our filthy whore, this is what you deserve, this is what you were made for, having all your holes filled like this.” 

“I’m so full.” You whined, feeling the low thrum of an orgasm approaching, but every time you felt it you couldn’t chase it because of a different sensation on your body. 

“Not full enough.” Agatha growled into your skin, her fingers tracing your lips before you allowed her in, your tongue immediately sucking at her fingers. “My god, you’re so fucking dirty.” She breathed, looking at the way your body was crumbling under the pressure. Agatha held your hips and started bucking up harder into you and you keened at the rough treatment, but once Wanda matched the relentless pace, the feeling had your eyes squeezed shut. 

“You let us do whatever we want to you. Good little girl.” Wanda praised as you kept getting louder and louder, no longer caring what you sounded like. They were both working in and out, but once Agatha’s fingers found your clit again and rubbed tight pressured circles against it, you felt your body untense as the pain subsided and all you could feel was an intense amount of pleasure. But it was too much, there was no way you would ever catch up to the orgasm that kept building and fading.

“We’re not going to stop. You can be a good whore and come on our cocks now, or you can take it for another hour, we can do this all day.” Agatha spat, getting impatient with your disobedience, but Wanda traced love hearts on your back and the combination of the two relaxed you. 

“Breathe, just take it honey.” Wanda whispered, and it took a second for your brain to kick into gear again, to fight the fuzziness that was stopping your orgasm. 

“Oh fuck Mommy I’m-” You gasped, “Daddy please can I-” 

“Oh I know.” You could hear the smile on Wanda’s face. 

“You better come like a filthy little whore all over our cocks,” Agatha ordered, rocking you up and down until your brain went blank and the sheer height of it took over. “Now.” 

You felt like you were there forever, eyes squeezed shut, nails dug into both womens arms. After a few more thrusts and circles of your clit, it all crashed down. Burning hot pleasure ripped up your spine in controllable waves, the heat between your legs spreading everywhere. They didn’t pull out until you were jerking violently, painfully aware of how tight you were clenched around you. 

They gave you a minute before warning you that they were pulling out and you fell against the mattress in a pathetic sweat, your body shaking as the two women took off their harnesses and sat enveloping you between them.

Agatha was the first to get you water, her harsher techniques meaning her aftercare was incredibly important to her. She helped you sip it slowly while Wanda cradled you in her arms. 

“You know we’re thankful you were two timing us, right?” Agatha laughed, kissing your sodden forehead, brushing your wet hair from your face. 

“So wait, I don't have to choose?” You say in a thankful shock, leaning into both women. 

“Haven’t we just proved you can have both of us.” Wanda said, her head cocked to the side and her eyebrow raised as the flush of your cheeks. 

“Like we said, you’re ours now.” Agatha smirked, twirling your hair around her fingers. “Come on let's get you cleaned up.”

“Give me a minute, I don’t think I can walk.”

[harknessxo]

Prompt to a request (if it is okay) 🫶

Agatha and innocent fem reader+ corruption kink

Reader hasn't even had her first kiss and Agatha teaches her how to tongue kiss and so much more(fingering and magic strap)

Breeding kink as well plsss

Neighborly Desires

Paring: Dark!Agatha Harkness x reader

Summary: You had recently moved into Westview. Your mother had passed away and you wanted a new start in a small town. Agatha was your neighbor there and she didn’t waste any time welcoming you into town. She thought you were so adorable and so innocent…she wanted to be the one to corrupt you. She needed to be patient, careful, and precise.

Warnings; dubcon, corruption kink, enchanted strap, fingering, mommy kink, cunnilingus (r receiving), breeding kink, dummification.

Word Count: 3.7k

A/n: This request has been sitting in my inbox since DECEMBER of 2023…I am extremely sorry but I hope this makes up for it. 😅

You had recently moved into Westview. Your mother had passed away and you wanted a new start in a small town. Agatha was your neighbor there and she didn’t waste any time welcoming you into town. She watched you struggle to carry the boxes back and forth from your car to your living room and grinned. You were wearing a cute little pink dress and she couldn’t help herself.

“Hiya hon! Do you need some help with that?” You heard a friendly voice from behind you. You swiftly turned around to look at the woman, almost dropping the boxes.

“Careful, there, sweetheart. We don’t want you hurting yourself,” Agatha chuckled, taking a box from you.

“T-thank you,” you blushed, slightly embarrassed at your clumsiness. She helped you put the boxes inside your house before turning towards you.

“I’m Agatha, your neighbor to the right,” she smiled at you kindly, stretching her hand out for you to shake.

“I’m Y/n,” you shook her hand, longer than intended, “And thank you so much for helping me with those boxes. Would you like something to drink?” You offered not knowing what else to say, fidgeting with your hands.

“Y/n...” she tasted your name on her tongue, “What a beautiful name for a beautiful girl. Tea would be wonderful.”

“Alright, just give me a second until I find my cups,” you chuckled nervously and disappeared into your kitchen. Agatha walked to your living room and sat down. She thought you were so adorable and so innocent…she wanted to be the one to corrupt you. She waited patiently for you to finish up, thinking of all the things she had planned for you.

“I’m so sorry! I completely forgot where I packed everything. I would forget my head if it wasn’t attached to my body,” you joked as you handed Agatha her tea.

“Thank you, hon,” she took a sip, “So, what brings you here?” She asked, curious on how a girl like you ended up in this shitty town.

“Well this was my mother’s home and she passed away a few weeks ago so decided to move in.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” she held your hand, gently running her thumb over your knuckles.

“No, it’s okay. We weren’t really close and I wanted a new start.”

“Well if you ever need anything don’t hesitate to knock on my door, alright sweetheart?”

“Y-yeah,” you blushed at the nickname and she grinned. You two talked for a little while longer before you bid her goodbye and continued unpacking your things. Agatha walked home with a smirk on her face. You were too cute for your own good and she knew she was going to have fun with you. The fact that you were alone in this town was a bonus.

Days passed, and her visits became more frequent, her presence becoming very comforting. Somehow many things started to break inside your home and Agatha always seemed to be there to help. She was slowly gaining your trust and finding how truly innocent you were. You hadn’t even had a boyfriend before, how adorable could you possibly get? Yet beneath her warmth and sweet reassurances, a cunning plan took shape. She needed to be patient, careful, and precise.

Agatha now stood next to you in your kitchen. She had offered to help you cook dinner with the excuse she didn’t want you to eat all alone. She made sure to put her hands on your waist and press her front against your ass every time she walked past you. You, of course, didn’t think anything of this, too oblivious to think badly of Agatha’s touchy behavior. She couldn’t help but tease you a little more. She leaned in close to your ear and whispered.

“You’re doing great, sweetheart.”

“T-thank you…” you tried to hide your flushed face and she chuckled.

“Why don’t you go clean up while I make the table?” Agatha said as you were finishing up.

“Okay!” You obediently took your apron off and started walking to your bathroom to clean up.

“Good girl~,” she said under her breath but just loud enough for you to hear, making you flush once again.

You quickly went in, washed your hands, and fixed your hair. While you were in the bathroom, Agatha debated whether or not she should put a spell on you so she could take you right then and there but she wanted to take her time with you. By the time you walked out, Agatha had the table set up beautifully. There were candles and rose petals on the table. It was almost like a romantic dinner. How did she do this so quickly?

“Agatha, this looks beautiful.”

“Just like you,” she complimented you, booping your nose.

“Thank you, Aggie.” You recently started calling her that. Agatha didn’t seem to mind the newfound nickname, in fact, she loved it.

“Of course, darling.” She pulled out your chair and gestured for you to sit down. She was such a gentleman. You were completely oblivious to her true intentions.

You both sat down and ate dinner. Agatha asked you all kinds of questions, she wanted to know every little detail about you. What made you blush, what made you upset, what made you cry, what made you break. You answered all the questions, not thinking anything of it, and asked some yourself. You liked Agatha, more than you actually thought. God, you were so naive.

Eventually, you both finished eating dinner and she helped you clean the dishes. She always found a way to touch you even if it was just touching your hand when you passed her a plate or spoon to dry off. She saw the slight tint on your cheeks when she did.

"We should do this more often, don’t you think?” Agatha asked, her voice carrying a hint of something you couldn't quite place.

“I would love that!” You said happily. Agatha smiled, her eyes seemed to glint in the candlelight. After you were done doing the dishes Agatha started gathering her things to go home but you stopped her.

“Can you stay and watch a movie with me?” You asked, not wanting for her to leave yet.

“I think it’s a bit late, sweetheart,” she said, wanting to hear you beg for her to stay.

“Pretty please?” You grabbed her hands in your, caressing her knuckles with your thumbs, giving her your best puppy eyes. Agatha pretended to think about it, a sly smirk on her face. You were just so cute, how could she possibly say no to you?

“…fine, I’ll stay, but not too late. You need to go to bed soon, deal?”

“Deal!” you said, excitedly, pulling her towards your couch. She sat back while you picked the movie, settling for Tangled, it was your favorite comfort movie. After you started playing the movie, you sat next to Agatha, subconsciously snuggling to her side. She smiled as you snuggled against her. Her arm wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you closer to her.

“Is this your favorite movie, sweetheart?”

“Mhm!”

“Who’s your favorite character?” Agatha asked, combing through your hair.

“Mother Gothel,” you mumbled.

“Mother Gothel, huh?” she raised an eyebrow, “Why her? She’s the villain of the story.”

“I don’t know…” you frowned slightly, “I just like her character I guess…”

“Hmm. If I were Mother Gothel and I kidnapped you into my tower, what would you do?” she half joked.

“I would never leave.” You smiled at her. Agatha was very pleased with your answer and pulled you closer.

The movie went on and by the time it was over, you were fast asleep on Agatha’s shoulder. You looked so peaceful, so vulnerable, Agatha wanted to take you right then and there but no, she had to hold herself back. She picked you up and carried you to your bedroom, gently placing you on your bed. She tucked you in before leaning into your ear.

“You will be mine.” Was all she said before leaving to go back home.

—

Over the passing weeks you had gotten attached to Agatha, almost obsessively. Maybe it was her caring nature or your mommy issues coming to bite you in the ass. You were sitting on your couch with Agatha once again. She had picked the movie this time, telling you it was a surprise. She started playing the movie and you soon found out it was titled Carol. You had never seen it before but curled into Agatha’s side, wanting to feel her warmth.

The movie was good and all until the motel scene. Watching as Carol and Therese started kissing and touching each other made your core feel warm. Agatha noticed the way you were trying to hide your flushed face and how your thighs clenched together and smirked. She had you exactly where she wanted you.

“What’s wrong, baby? Are you cold?” she asked, pulling you closer, placing her hand on your thigh.

“I’m f-fine,” you stuttered out, unconvincing. She chuckled and gently started rubbing your thigh. Her touch was so warm and comforting, it made you want to melt against her. She moved even closer, cupping your face to make you look at her.

“You’re trembling, sweetheart. Are you sure you’re fine?”

“I-” you realized how close your faces were, noses almost touching, “Aggie-” she finally crashed her lips against yours. You closed your eyes, savoring how soft her lips were until you pulled away, looking away from her. She smirked at your reaction, enjoying how flustered you were. She gently turned your face to look at her again.

“Sweetheart? Did you not like it?”

“No! I loved it, it's just that…I don’t know how to…” you trailed off, embarrassed.

“Aw, such a dumb baby,” she cupped your face, “You’re so naive and innocent you don’t even know how to kiss. How cute.”

“Wha-” She pressed her finger against your lips, shutting you up and brushed a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Just follow my lead. I promise you will love it,” you hesitantly nodded and she kissed you again, this time moving her lips against yours and you did the same. She poked her tongue between your lips and you opened your mouth to let her in. You did your best, following her lead and moving your lips and tongue like her. Agatha moved her hand to squeeze your thighs, sliding them closer to your soaked core making you squeal and pull away.

“Agatha I don’t think-”

“Shh,” she pulled you into her lap, your thighs on either side of her legs, “Let mommy do the thinking.” You frowned slightly at her comment but then she pressed her fingers against the wet patch on your panties, making you lose any train of thought you had.

“You’re so wet baby,” she started rubbing her fingers over your clothed clit, “Is that all for me?” she asked, her other hand gripping onto your hip.

“Hmph…” You unconsciously moved your hips against her hand.

“Use your words, sweetheart,” she commanded, pressing harder against your clit, the pressure sending a wave of pleasure through your body.

“Yes…”

“That’s a good girl.” She growled, moving your panties aside to touch your bare core directly, her fingers sliding between your folds. You gasped at the new feeling. You had never felt like this before. You’ve never touched yourself let alone have sex.

“So innocent…” She said before shoving two fingers inside of you. You were so tight, so warm, so wet for her. She pumped her fingers in and out of you, rubbing your clit with her thumb.

“Such a good girl for mommy.” She praised you.

“Aggie-” you clung to her, wrapping your arms around her neck while she worked on fucking your with her fingers. Her other hand started to sneak under the thin dress you were wearing, finding that you weren’t wearing a bra at all.

“Not wearing a bra?” she pinched your nipple, “What a naughty girl…” You whimpered in response, making her chuckle. She pinched your nipple again, she started biting your neck leaving a trail of marks on your skin. She added a third finger, her thumb circling your clit faster than before and then suddenly stopped.

“Why’d you stop?” You whined desperately.

“Such a needy girl,” she picked you up like you weighed nothing and carried you upstairs like she had done before. She took you to your bedroom and sat you on your bed.

She took your dress off, throwing it elsewhere and started undressing as well. She took off her pants to reveal the enchanted strap she had been wearing. She smirked as she looked at your surprised expression.

“Like what you see, darling?” She pushed you back against the bed and climbed on top of you, your legs wrapped around her waist.

“W-wait-” You started to hesitate.

“Shh, it’s okay baby.” She gently caressed your cheek, looking into your eyes with a soft expression. Her strap was pressing against your core and she started rubbing it against you.

“It’s going to feel so good,” she pressed the tip of the strap into your entrance, “I’ll be gentle, okay?” You swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded your head.

She slowly pushed the strap further inside your warm wall, watching as your mouth made an ‘o’ shape and your brows frowned in pleasure. She let out a low groan as the strap went further inside, your pussy greedily clenching around it. Her eyes roaming over your body, watching every little expression you made.

“That’s it, baby… you’re doing so good. You’re taking me so well,” she said most out of breath.

“M-mommy-” She almost lost the little control she had left when you finally called her mommy, feeling a rush of pleasure run through her body. God she was going to finally make you hers. Agatha’s grip on your hips tightened as she began to thrust into you, slowly at first, making sure you were comfortable and enjoying it.

“Oh, you like calling me that don’t you, darling?” She grunted.

“Mhm!” You nodded your head. She smirked and began to pick up the pace, thrusting faster and harder into you. She leaned down and began kissing your neck, leaving more marks as she went. Her hands roamed over your body, squeezing and pinching every inch of your skin.

“Such a good girl, taking mommy’s strap so well…you’re mine.” Agatha finally said out loud. She continued to ramble on, as she thrusted into you. She grabbed your hands and pinned them above your head, making you completely helpless beneath her.

“No one else gets to see you like this. You’re all mine. Fuck- I’m never letting you go.” Your brain had turned to mush and all you could do was chant a bunch of yeses as she snapped her hips at a brutal pace. Agatha loved how incoherent you were becoming. She loved how easily she could reduce you to a moaning mess. She began to talk to you in a soft voice, praising and mocking you at the same time.

“Look at you. Such a babbling mess. Mommy’s little dumb slut. Isn’t that right? All mine?”

“Yes! All yours!” Your voice trembled as you got closer to the edge, your orgasm building up.

“That’s right,” she moved one of her hands from your wrists to your clit, rubbing it in fast circles, “You’re all mine, and you���re going to cum for me, aren’t you?”

You tried to reply but instead let out a loud sob, tears running down your rosy cheeks from the pleasure you felt. Agatha leaned down and kissed your tears away, her movements becoming more frantic as she chased your release.

“Come on, baby. Cum for me. Be a good little slut and cum for mommy.”

Your eyes rolled back and your mouth opened in a silent scream as you fell apart. Agatha moaned as she felt your walls clench around her, sloppily helping you ride out your orgasm as best as she could as she held onto your trembling legs.

“Fuck- I’m going to fill you up nice and full of my cum, baby, you’re going to be all mine.” She came, moaning loudly as she spilled her hot seed deep inside you. She gave you a few more thrust before pulling out, making you whine in protest at how empty you felt. Her hand on your wrists loosened and she looked down at you with a satisfied smirk on her face.

“There we go…Good girl. You did so well for me, baby. So perfect,” she started kissing down your body, “Now mommy’s gonna clean you up…” She finally let go of your wrist, putting your legs together and bending them against your chest, your pussy now completely exposed to her. She used her fingers to spread your pussy lips apart. She watched as her cum leaked out of you and almost moaned at the sight.

“God look at how messy you are…” she leaned down and ran her tongue over your entrance, licking up her own cum. She lapped at your sensitive core, moaning at the taste of the two of you combined, “You taste so good, baby.”

You squirmed against her mouth, your pussy already too sensitive. Agatha chuckled and wrapped her arms around your thighs, holding you in place as she continued to eat you out. She was going to make sure you were completely clean.

“Stay still, honey. Mommy’s not done with you yet.”

“But it h-hurts-” She looked up at you with a mocking expression.

“I know it hurts, baby. That’s why you’re going to be a good girl and take it, isn’t that right?”

She nipped at your inner thigh before diving back down between your legs. You reluctantly nodded, letting her lap over your puffy folds and sucking on your clit. She moaned against your clit, enjoying the taste of your juices. She swirled her tongue around it before sucking on it again, pulling it into her mouth and teasing it with her teeth.

“Mmmm…there we go,” she kissed your clit before letting go of your legs, “All done.” She pulled you into a kiss, shoving her tongue in your mouth, making you taste yourself. You whined against her lips, finding it hard to keep up. She just chuckled and pulled away.

“Come on, baby. Let’s give you a bath.” She started picking and you absolutely melted into her. She set you on the bathroom counter while she filled the bath. You simply watched her as she put bubbles in the bath and made sure the water was at a good temperature.

Once the bath was ready, she gently picked you up and lowered you into the warm water. She sat behind you, letting you lean against her chest. She began washing your body with a soft washcloth, making sure to be extra gentle with you. When she got close to your core, you stiffened slightly, still sensitive from your orgasm and her tongue. She chuckled softly, noticing your reaction.

“Aww, is my baby still sensitive?” She pressed her fingers against your clit. You tried to swat her hand away and clench your thighs together but she took your wrist and held them against your chest while using her own legs to keep yours open.

“Just give mommy one more orgasm and we’ll be all done, okay?” She said, already playing with your clit, rubbing it in small circles.

“It hurts mommy…” you mumbled, hiding your face in the crook of her neck.

“I know it hurts, baby. But you can do it,” she continued to tease your clit, rubbing it faster and harder, “Don’t you want to make mommy proud?”

“Y-yes-” she smiled and rewarded you by letting go of your wrist and wrapping her free hand around your throat, gently squeezing it.

“That’s my good girl. Keep being good for mommy and I’ll make you feel so good, okay?” The pain finally turned into pleasure and your body pathetically melted to Agatha’s once again. Her grip on your throat tightened slightly making you light headed.

“You’re so cute when you’re like this, darling. All weak and pathetic. You’re mine to use however I want, aren’t you?” She slipped two fingers inside you, making you mewl like a dog in heat.

“I’m close!” You moaned as she nibbled on your earlobe before whispering in your ear.

“Good. Come for me, baby. Come for mommy one more time and I’ll let you rest.” Your hands clung to the hand that was still tightly wrapped around your neck for dear life as you came again. Agatha grinned, loving the way you clung to her like she was the only thing keeping you alive. How pathetic and adorable.

She kept her hand around your neck, slowly applying pressure as you came. Once you came down from your high, she loosened her grip and rubbed your neck softly, admiring the redness she left behind.

“That’s my girl. I’m so proud of you,” she soothed you, combing through your wet hair until the water in the bath became cold. She got out first, getting a towel for you before helping you out.

She gently wrapped you the towel, setting you down on the counter once again to brush the knots out of your hair. Once she was done, she wrapped the towel around you tighter and lifted you, cradling you in her arms like a small child.

“It’s time to go to sleep, my sweet girl. You must be so tired huh?” she sat you down in the bed while she went to get you some pj. She made sure to be quick noticing how droopy your eyes looked. She came back a moment later with some soft, silk pajamas for you. She gently dressed you in them before tucking you into bed, pulling the blankets up to your chin.

“Comfortable, Angel?”

“Aren’t you going to stay, Aggie?” Agatha smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair out of your face.

“Of course, I am, darling. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

“You promise?” She leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“I promise, sweetheart. You’re mine, I’m not going anywhere. Now get some sleep.”

[buttercandy16]

Mistress

PAIRING(s): Vampire!Agatha Harkness x Maid!Reader

SUMMARY: Your mistress becomes obsessed with you, leading to a dark, twisted relationship where love, power, and obsession collide.

WARNING(s): Obsession, Manipulation, Possessive, Blood, and SMUT.

A/N: Been a while since I've written some smut. Enjoy!

The halls of the Harkness estate were vast and cold, like a labyrinth of secrets etched into its ancient stone walls. Candlelight flickered across shadowy corridors as you carried a silver tray of wine toward the parlor, your heels clicking softly against the marble floors. You tried to focus on balancing the tray, but you couldn't ignore the eerie stillness of the estate or the way the other servants whispered nervously about their mistress.

Agatha Harkness.

Even among her wealthy contemporaries, her name was uttered with equal parts reverence and dread. She was a woman of unparalleled elegance and power, known for her biting wit and an aura of danger that clung to her like a second skin. Rumors swirled about her cruelty, her temper, and her insatiable appetites—not just for luxury but for something darker.

You’d taken the job as her maid out of desperation, knowing little of her reputation. Now, after only a few weeks, you wondered if the warnings had been an understatement.

And yet, you found yourself drawn to her in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

The moment you entered the parlor, you felt her eyes on you.

Agatha lounged in a grand velvet armchair, her long fingers elegantly wrapped around the stem of a wine glass. Her gaze slid over you like a caress, sharp and assessing, making your skin prickle under the weight of her attention.

“Finally,” she purred, her voice smooth as silk. “I was beginning to think you’d gotten lost.”

“My apologies, mistress,” you said quickly, setting the tray down on the table before her.

“Hmm.” She didn’t look away, her lips curving into the faintest smile. “You’re new, aren’t you?”

“Yes, mistress,” you said, fighting to keep your hands steady under her piercing stare.

She stood slowly, her towering frame somehow both graceful and intimidating as she circled you. The scent of her perfume—a dark, heady mix of amber and spice—wrapped around you, making it hard to think clearly.

“I noticed you the moment you arrived,” she murmured, her voice dangerously low. “There’s something… unique about you. Something I can’t quite put my finger on.”

Her fingers brushed your shoulder lightly as she moved behind you, and your breath caught.

“Tell me,” she said, her breath warm against your ear, “do you enjoy working for me?”

The air felt heavy, and the words got caught in your throat. “Y-yes, mistress,” you managed, though your pulse quickened for reasons you couldn’t fully name.

Her low chuckle sent a shiver down your spine. “Good. I have high expectations, and I’d hate to be disappointed.”

Over the following days, her interest in you only grew more intense.

She began finding reasons to summon you alone—fetching her wine, helping her dress, accompanying her on her nightly walks through the moonlit gardens. Always, she kept close, her sharp eyes taking in every detail of you.

At first, you thought it was simply her eccentric nature, but soon it became clear there was more to her obsession.

“I can hear your heart racing,” she said one evening as you stood in her chambers, tidying the delicate lace cuffs of one of her gowns. Her tone was amused, but her eyes burned with something primal.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you replied, though the heat in your cheeks betrayed you.

“Oh, but I think you do,” she said, taking your wrist in her hand. Her grip was gentle but unyielding as she pulled you closer. “You’re quite… intoxicating.”

One night, you found yourself summoned to her private chambers. The room was dimly lit, the scent of wax and roses thick in the air. She stood by the fireplace, her long dark gown catching the light like a pool of ink.

“Come here,” she said, her voice low and commanding.

You hesitated but obeyed, stepping closer until you were standing just inches from her.

Her hand reached out, her fingers trailing over your cheek. “You’re shaking,” she whispered. “Are you afraid of me?”

“N-no, mistress,” you lied, your voice barely audible.

She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “You should be.”

Before you could respond, her grip tightened on your arm, and she pulled you against her. Her other hand tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet her gaze. Her eyes glowed faintly in the firelight, hungry and unrelenting.

“You don’t understand yet, do you?” she murmured, her voice dripping with dark amusement. “The hold you have over me. Your scent, your warmth, the taste of your fear…”

Her lips brushed against your neck, soft and deliberate, and your breath hitched. You wanted to pull away, but her presence was overwhelming, suffocating, and somehow… thrilling.

“I could devour you,” she whispered, her voice tinged with both lust and menace. “Body and soul. And I don’t know if I could stop myself.”

You felt her teeth graze your skin, a soft scrape that sent electricity coursing through you. But instead of biting, she pulled back, her expression carefully controlled.

“Not yet,” she said, more to herself than to you. “Not yet.”

Her fingers lingered on your wrist as she let you go, her touch burning long after she released you.

“Leave me,” she said abruptly, turning away.

You didn’t wait for her to change her mind.

The next day, she was colder, more distant, as though trying to suppress whatever had taken hold of her. But the heat in her gaze never dimmed when she looked at you, and you knew the storm wasn’t over—it was only just beginning.

Every interaction with her left you more confused, more tangled in her web of obsession. The line between fear and something far more dangerous blurred, and you found yourself standing at the edge of a precipice, unsure whether to flee or to fall.

And as her lips curled into a knowing smirk, you realized that decision might not be yours to make.

The air in the Harkness estate grew heavier each day, as though the house itself was responding to the tension between you and its mistress. Agatha’s presence loomed everywhere—her perfume lingering in the hallways, her voice echoing in the back of your mind, her piercing eyes locked on you at every stolen glance.

You told yourself it was just her nature, an eccentricity fueled by wealth and boredom. Yet deep down, you knew it was more. Agatha wasn’t merely interested; she was consumed. And despite the gnawing fear in your chest, part of you couldn’t help but lean into it, daring the flame to burn brighter.

One evening, you were summoned to her private chambers yet again. The summons itself wasn’t unusual by now, but the tone of her note was: “Tonight, you’re mine.”

You smoothed your trembling hands down the front of your uniform as you knocked on the grand wooden door. Her voice drifted through, low and sensual.

“Come in.”

Pushing the door open, you stepped inside, only to be greeted by a sight that made your breath hitch.

Agatha stood in front of a gilded mirror, her silhouette framed by the glow of the roaring fireplace. She was in a deep plum silk robe, tied loosely at her waist. The fabric clung to her curves, revealing far more than it hid. Her hair tumbled down in dark waves, and her gaze met yours through the reflection.

“You kept me waiting,” she said, her tone soft but full of unspoken weight.

“My apologies, Mistress Harkness,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Agatha,” she corrected, turning to face you fully. “When we’re alone, you’ll call me Agatha.”

Her smile was slow and predatory as she crossed the room, her bare feet silent on the thick rug. She stopped just in front of you, her presence commanding every ounce of your attention.

“You’ve been working so hard lately,” she said, reaching out to brush a stray hair from your face. “Have the other servants been treating you well?”

“Yes,” you replied, though the closeness of her fingers to your skin made the word come out shakier than intended.

“And yet,” she continued, tilting her head, “I can see the exhaustion in your eyes. Do they know how much you give?” Her fingers lingered on your cheek, her touch as delicate as a whisper.

“I—”

“Shh,” she interrupted, pressing a single finger to your lips. “No need to speak. You’ve already given me enough with just your presence.”

The air between you crackled with an intensity that was impossible to ignore. Her eyes roamed over you, her gaze so unashamed and hungry that you felt exposed even in your modest uniform.

“Have you thought about me?” she asked, her voice a low, dangerous hum.

Your throat tightened. “I… I don’t know what you mean.”

Her smile deepened, a sly curve of her lips that seemed to peel away every pretense. “Don’t lie to me. I see it every time your hands tremble when I’m near. The way you avoid my gaze, yet I catch you staring when you think I’m not looking.”

You felt the heat rise in your cheeks, your heart thundering in your chest. “Mistress, I—”

“Agatha,” she corrected again, more firmly this time. Her voice softened as she leaned closer, the scent of her perfume intoxicating. “Do you feel it too? This… pull between us? Don’t deny it.”

Her hand trailed down your arm, her fingers grazing the sensitive skin of your wrist. The touch was light, yet it left a trail of fire in its wake.

You stepped back instinctively, trying to create distance, but she followed. Her movements were slow and deliberate, like a predator savoring its prey.

“You’re nervous,” she said, her voice almost teasing. “Good. I like the way your pulse quickens when I’m near. Like it’s calling to me.”

Her fingers brushed the delicate skin of your neck, lingering for a moment as her gaze followed the motion.

“Do you know how hard it’s been to restrain myself?” she whispered, her voice dripping with hunger. “You’ve awakened something in me—something dark, something primal. I can hardly stand it when you’re near.”

Her lips ghosted over your ear, her warm breath sending shivers down your spine. “Every time I see you, every time I smell you, I wonder… how would you taste?”

Your knees threatened to buckle beneath you, but her hand moved to your waist, steadying you. It wasn’t just her words—it was her voice, her touch, her presence. It was overwhelming.

“You should go,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

Her laughter was soft and rich, like the purr of a satisfied predator. “Go? You’re the one in my chambers, darling.”

Agatha’s other hand slid around your back, pulling you impossibly close. The silk of her robe brushed against you, her warmth seeping into your skin.

“Tell me to stop,” she said, her lips hovering dangerously close to yours. “One word, and I’ll let you walk out of here. But if you stay… you’ll belong to me.”

Your breath caught as her fingers tilted your chin upward, her dark eyes blazing with intent. It felt like the world had stopped, like the only thing that mattered was her—her lips, her touch, her dominance.

This was no longer just your job, your duty. This was something much deeper, darker, and inescapable. And as her lips brushed against yours, soft and commanding all at once, you knew there was no going back.

The kiss started soft—tentative even—but there was no denying the fire that ignited the moment her lips claimed yours. Agatha wasn’t the kind of woman to ask twice, and now, her dominance poured over you like molten honey. Her hand tangled in your hair, holding you in place as her lips parted yours, the taste of her intoxicating.

“Do you feel it now?” she murmured against your lips, her voice like a low growl. “How you’ve bewitched me?”

Your body trembled under her touch, your breath hitching as her sharp nails dragged lightly down the curve of your neck. The trail they left tingled, a shiver that rippled through you like electricity. She stepped back, just slightly, her hungry eyes roaming over you as though she was calculating her next move.

Then her expression shifted—intense and dark, her pupils dilating as she fixated on your neck.

Before you could speak, she moved, gripping your waist and pressing you against the cold stone wall of her chambers. Her lips brushed your collarbone, soft and deliberate, as she inhaled deeply.

“Your scent…” Her voice broke, heavy with need. “It’s… maddening.”

Her mouth trailed along the line of your throat, kisses becoming hungrier, rougher. Then you felt it—the sharp press of her teeth.

"Agatha—" you gasped, half-panicked and half-lost in the thrill coursing through you.

“Shh,” she cooed, pinning your wrists above your head with surprising strength. “You’ve already given me your lips… your trust… What’s one more thing?”

Her teeth broke the delicate skin of your neck with a swift bite, pain mingling with the heat of her lips. Your cry was stifled as she pressed her mouth fully against you, drinking deeply. It was unlike anything you’d ever felt—the sharp sting giving way to a strange, dangerous pleasure as her body molded against yours.

The world blurred at the edges, your heart hammering as she drank, the wet, visceral sound filling the chamber. Your pulse slowed, your knees weak, but Agatha didn’t falter. When she finally pulled back, her lips and chin were smeared with your blood, crimson standing out stark against her pale skin.

“Look at you,” she whispered, her voice husky, her eyes glowing faintly with an otherworldly hunger. “So fragile, so perfect. Do you understand now what you do to me?”

Her hands slipped to your waist, her grip firm yet somehow tender, steadying you as you sagged against her. “You taste like heaven,” she murmured, licking the remnants of your blood from her lips as though savoring a fine wine.

“You—” You tried to speak, but the words didn’t come, your breath hitching as her thumb traced over the fresh wound on your neck.

“Shh, don’t speak,” she said, her voice softening, almost tender now. “You’ve given me so much already. Let me take care of you, darling.”

She lifted you effortlessly, carrying you to the massive bed draped in deep violet and gold linens. You felt the world sway as she set you down, her robe falling open just enough to reveal the smooth curve of her shoulder. Her predatory grin had returned, but now it was laced with something gentler—a strange, possessive affection that made your stomach twist.

“I told you, didn’t I?” she murmured, brushing your hair away from your face. “You belong to me now. Completely.”

She leaned over you, her bloodstained lips brushing yours in a kiss that was gentler this time. It was possessive yet worshipful, as though she was memorizing every inch of you.

The blood loss left you lightheaded, the line between fear and desire blurring until it vanished entirely. Agatha’s hands roamed over your body with reverence, her touch burning like fire.

“Such strength,” she purred, her lips hovering over yours. “Yet so vulnerable.”

She pressed another kiss to your neck, careful to avoid the wound this time. Her tongue flicked over the edges of the bite, soothing the sting, even as her hands trailed down your sides, setting every nerve ablaze.

The fire in the hearth crackled, casting flickering shadows across the room as Agatha’s lips left your neck, her tongue lapping at the wound she’d made. Her hands were everywhere—tracing your collarbone, gripping your hips, sliding up your thighs with a possessiveness that left you breathless. She pulled back slightly, her eyes dark and glinting with something primal, something that made your stomach twist in a way that was equal parts fear and desire.

“You’re trembling,” she murmured, her voice low and rough, like the growl of a predator savoring its prey. “Do you want me to stop?”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. Your body was betraying you, your pulse racing as her fingers slipped under the hem of your uniform, brushing against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. Her touch was electric, sending shivers up your spine, and you bit your lip to stifle the moan that threatened to escape.

“No?” she teased, her lips curling into a wicked smile. “Good. Because I don’t think I could stop even if you begged me to.”

Her hands moved with purpose, yanking the fabric of your uniform up and over your head in one swift motion. The cool air hit your skin, but it was nothing compared to the heat of her gaze as she took you in—every curve, every inch of exposed flesh. Her eyes burned with hunger, and you felt utterly exposed, utterly at her mercy.

“Beautiful,” she whispered, her voice dripping with reverence. “Every part of you.”

Her hands were on you again, rough and demanding, as she pushed you back onto the bed. The satin sheets were cool against your back, but her body was a furnace as she climbed over you, her robe falling open to reveal the smooth, pale skin beneath. Her breasts brushed against yours, and you gasped at the contact, your nipples hardening instantly under her touch.

“You’re mine,” she growled, her lips trailing down your neck, your collarbone, your chest. “Every inch of you belongs to me.”

Her mouth closed over your nipple, her tongue flicking against the sensitive bud, and you arched into her, a moan escaping your lips before you could stop it. She chuckled darkly, the sound vibrating against your skin, and her teeth grazed you lightly, sending a jolt of pleasure-pain through your body.

“That’s it,” she murmured, her voice thick with satisfaction. “Let me hear you.”

Her hand slid down your stomach, her fingers dipping between your thighs, and you gasped as she found your wetness. She groaned, low and guttural, as she felt how ready you were for her.

“So eager,” she purred, her fingers teasing your entrance. “You’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you?”

You couldn’t answer, couldn’t think, as her fingers pushed inside you, curling just right to hit that spot that made your vision blur. She moved with a practiced precision, her thumb circling your clit as her fingers worked you, and you writhed beneath her, your hands gripping the sheets for dear life.

“Look at you,” she said, her voice dripping with dark amusement. “So desperate for me. So perfect.”

Her pace quickened, her fingers thrusting deeper, harder, and you felt the coil in your stomach tighten, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps. She leaned down, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispered, “Come for me, darling. Let me feel you fall apart.”

As the firelight flickered in the darkened chamber, her mouth found yours again, her kiss consuming you entirely. She poured everything into it—her obsession, her hunger, and her unspoken claim over you.

When you woke, you were wrapped in satin sheets the color of freshly spilled wine. The dull ache in your neck reminded you that last night hadn’t been a fever dream. You touched the spot cautiously, your fingers finding tender flesh but no wound. Agatha had tended to it somehow; you could still feel the faint sting of her tongue against your skin.

As you turned, you realized you weren’t alone. Agatha sat on the edge of the bed, her robe draped loosely over her, revealing more than it hid. She held a glass of dark red wine in one hand, her other hand lazily tracing patterns on your thigh.

“You’re awake,” she said without looking at you. Her voice was calm, almost casual, but there was a sharp edge to it—possessive, in control.

You tried to sit up, but the room spun, and Agatha’s hand was on your shoulder in an instant, pressing you gently back down.

“Easy, darling,” she murmured, her fingers cool against your flushed skin. “You’ve given me so much already. You need to recover.”

Her words were kind, but her tone betrayed her satisfaction—like a predator who’d gorged herself on her prey and was now savoring the aftermath.

“Why?” you managed to whisper, your voice hoarse.

Agatha smiled, setting her glass aside. She leaned down until her face was inches from yours, her dark eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that stole your breath.

“Because I couldn’t resist,” she said simply. “You’re… exquisite. Every look, every breath, every drop of blood.” She cupped your face in her hand, her thumb grazing your cheekbone. “You have no idea the effect you’ve had on me.”

You flinched as her lips brushed over your forehead, but you didn’t pull away. There was a strange tenderness to her touch that made it impossible to move, even as your heart thundered in your chest.

“I should have left you alone,” she murmured, almost to herself. “But I’m not that strong. Not when it comes to you.”

The days that followed blurred together.

Agatha no longer kept her distance. She was everywhere—in the gardens during your morning chores, in the kitchen as you prepared meals, in your dreams every time you closed your eyes.

And always, her hands were on you—brushing against your arm as she passed, grazing your neck when she adjusted your collar, lingering on your waist as though she couldn’t stand to let you go.

“I’ve been patient,” she said one evening, pinning you against the cool stone of the hallway. Her voice was low, dangerous. “Do you think I’m a patient woman, darling?”

You shook your head, your words stolen by the heat of her body pressing into yours.

“No,” she said, her lips curling into a wicked smile. “I’m not.”

Her hand slid up your thigh, her touch searing through the thin fabric of your uniform. “Do you understand what you’ve done to me? How you’ve consumed my thoughts, my dreams, my every waking moment?”

Her mouth found yours before you could reply, the kiss rough and commanding. You couldn’t think—only feel. The way her hands gripped your hips, the way her teeth scraped your bottom lip, the way her breath mingled with yours as though she intended to drown you in her need.

The next morning, you woke again in her bed. She was watching you, propped up on one elbow, her fingers idly playing with your hair.

“Good morning,” she purred, her voice soft and lazy, though her eyes held that same dangerous glint.

“Why… why me?” you asked, your voice trembling.

Her smile widened, and she leaned down until her lips hovered just above yours.

“Because you’re mine,” she whispered, as though it was the simplest thing in the world.

Her teeth grazed your ear, and you shivered. “And I don’t share.”

The days turned to weeks, and the line between fear and desire blurred beyond recognition. You found yourself waiting for her touch, aching for her attention, even as a small part of you screamed to run.

But there was no escaping her.

Agatha Harkness had claimed you in every way that mattered—body, blood, and soul.

And as her lips trailed down your neck, her sharp nails leaving burning paths along your skin, you knew you didn’t want her to let you go.

Because no one could consume you like she did.

No one could burn you so beautifully.

You belonged to her, entirely and inescapably.

And somehow, you didn’t care.

_-_-_

Please don't forget to vote, reblog, and comment 💜

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

With Me Forever

Dark!Mommy!Agatha Harkness x fem!reader

Word count: 1.3K

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, Stockholm syndrome, Dubcon, kidnapping/confinement, psychological conditioning/manipulation, Mommy kink, emotional manipulation, pet play, loss of autonomy, magical manipulation, breeding kink, objectification, power play

Authors notes: Man Idk who took over while writing this one, but they were amazing.

The room is dim, heavy velvet curtains drawn over the windows, allowing only slivers of muted sunlight to filter through. You’ve been here for days—weeks, maybe even months. Time feels warped in this house, your new prison. Every surface is lavish, grand even, but that doesn’t dull the sharp edge of fear that grips your heart.

Agatha is watching you again. Her presence is unmistakable—she's never too far from you, whether you see her or not. You’d taken notice of a cicada in the room she kept you in. It never got too close to you, but always somewhere you could see it.

 Her deep, sultry voice curls around your senses like smoke as she enters the room, heels clicking against the hardwood floor. She’s dressed impeccably, as usual, in a pair of dark purple suit pants, a white button up and a navy blue overcoat, her sharp eyes glittering with amusement as she watches you on the bed.

"Good morning, my little bunny," she purrs, her voice sending a shiver down your spine. "Have you decided to behave today?"

You turn your head away, trying to ignore the way your body reacts to her. Every fiber of your being wants to resist her, to fight back against the constant manipulation, but it’s hard—too hard—especially when your body betrays you. You hate how she’s gotten under your skin, how her touch has become something you crave, even as your mind rebels.

Her hands are the only touch you’ve felt in a long time let alone a nice touch, something tender that doesn’t leave a mark on you. Your body wanted more of it even though you knew this was all wrong. She kidnapped you. She’s keeping you here for her own amusement and pleasure. 

Agatha chuckles darkly, sensing your internal struggle. She moves closer, her fingers trailing lightly along the curve of your neck. You flinch, but you don’t pull away. You can't.

"My sweet girl," she whispers, her lips brushing against your ear, "it’s only a matter of time before you stop fighting. You’ll see that everything I do is for you, for us. I could give you so much more than anyone else ever could including that other little witch you were so fond of. All you have to do is surrender."

Her words are a poison, dripping into your thoughts, planting seeds of doubt. She’s always been careful, never harsh and certainly never violent. Instead, she plays with your mind, with your desires, making you question everything. 

Is it really so bad to want her? 

To give in?

"You and I could be so much together," Agatha continues, her hand sliding down your arm, her nails grazing your skin just enough to make you shiver. "I know what you can do and I could teach you things that would make the world bow at your feet."

You close your eyes, trying to block her out, but it’s impossible. She’s everywhere, inside your head, inside your heart. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, you feel yourself breaking, crumbling under the weight of her words, her presence.

"You’ll never leave," she says softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "Not because I won’t let you, but because you won’t want to."

And the terrifying part is that you know she’s right.

You feel her hand move over the curves of your body, goosebumps running over your whole body. Her fingers were always freezing as she somehow made your skin feel like it was on fire. The only movement you were allowed was to arch into her touch. Your body once again betraying you as it did just that, asking for more from her as you don’t dare look her in the eyes. She chuckles, dark and low, at the action. 

“Your body doesn’t lie to me bunny. Look at me. Look at Mommy.” She’d started to call herself that. Mommy, you thought it was just a jab at all the Mommy issues you have and it very well might be the case, but fuck you just wanted to make Mommy happy. Yet you still want to fight against her. You don’t want to give her the satisfaction. Not yet at least. 

Her hand starts rubbing your thigh, each stroke drawing closer to your heated core. You close your eyes, letting out a shaky breath. You feel her movement and the bed dips down between your legs. You’re moved slightly with where her weight is and you feel a hand on each thigh. 

Her strokes are gentle as she leans down, her heated mouth meaning your skin. A rush of heat to your core hits and a needy whine comes out of you.

“All you have to do is ask, bunny.” She mumbles against your skin. This was the game that was played every time. Like some even more twisted form of conditioning. She’d wait until you were all needy, begging for her cock, begging to be bred by her. It wasn’t fair. You bite your lip debating if you want to hold out this time, you’ve done it a few times, but you’d always regret it because she’d work you up and ruin your orgasm each time. 

“Please Mommy…need you…need you inside of me…” You manage out and Agatha looks down at you, slowly rubbing around your overly sensitive nub, but not actually touching it. You swallow hard before continuing. You know what she’s waiting for and you want to say it. You want her to know, need her to know. 

“I’m yours Mommy please I’ll be your good bunny! Need Mommy’s cock inside of me. Only yours makes me feel good. No one else could make me feel good like you Mommy. No one could make me cum like you do Mommy!” You feel tears prick the corners of your eyes. 

A smirk appears on Agatha’s face, a snap of her fingers and your clothes are gone. She has her purple enchanted strap out and ready. It was already pushing at your soaked entrance. Making it easy for Agatha to slip inside of you. 

“F-fuck…” You arch into her, not realizing how much you needed her. 

“You’re so tight, bunny. You feel amazing. Mommy’s going to make sure you feel amazing.” She manages out, you can tell she’s breathless just from entering you. Feeling how tight and wet you were. 

“Please Mommy I’ll be your best bunny ever!” 

She simply smirks as she grips your hips and before you can say anything else she’s pounding into you relentlessly. You can’t help but moan as she hits your spot over and over again. You don’t feel one of her hands move up to your head, it isn’t until you hear the Latin come out her mouth that you know she’s using her magic she’s making you more fuzzy, more needy for her. Another form of conditioning, her magic. 

You watch her fingers, watching her hand flex and fingers move. It isn’t her magic making you fuzzy and needy. You grab her wrists and don’t think about it as you take her fingers into your mouth, sucking on them eagerly. 

You look up at her with half lidded eyes, dark and lustful. You were ready to be completely hers. She could see it in your eyes. 

“That’s my good bunny. Just like that. You’re Mommy’s bunny aren’t you?” She asks, her voice full of lust, her heated breath you could swear you saw. You nod and mumble an ‘mhmm’ around her fingers. 

You don’t think it’s possible but she speeds up. You’re moaning around her fingers and she can tell you’re close. She keeps her pace, letting you fall over the edge as you let her fingers go, choosing to lunge forward to hold onto her as you rocked your hips into her. Her hands find their way to your back, her natural nails clawing down your back. 

“My bunny.” You feel her fill you, her hot cum hitting against your walls. You were hers completely and you had been for a while, you knew that. There’s nowhere else you’d rather be, you don’t even remember that other witch’s name.

“Your bunny Mommy forever.”

[anyaeras]

Agatha & Rio Kinktober Thoughts

A/N- Happy Kinktober for all my little freaks, I sadly haven't had time to write all my fics but I did come up with some NSFW head cannons so enjoy

──────────────────────

Aftercare— Agatha, she was always great with aftercare her go to method would be a bath, she would run a nice bath after a hard session and relax with you while you let everything melt away in the warm tub.

Body Parts— Rio was obsessed with your body, touching you physically as often as she could. But your eyes, a part she couldn't touch but she just loved to hold your gaze, let looking longingly into your iris while her deep colored eyes searched yours

Cum— Agatha loved the idea of being able to breed you, she often would use her magic to enchant her strap, making the whole interaction feel so real as she pounded her cum deep into you.

Dirty thoughts— Rio had an active imagination, her thoughts ran wild with ideas the things she could do to you but her favorite was, Rio longed to use her magic bounding you to the bed with her vines so she could ravish you, edging you while you were tied unable to move, hours of endless playtime all while flowers and vines wrapped around you until your couldn't take it anymore. The found the joy in your struggles, being a slight sadist and all.

Experiment— Agatha was very willing with you, she adored trying things to with you, Agatha was very precise on how she tried things nonetheless, she would research things you wanted to try offering the best experience for the both of you.

Favorite Position— Rio Was a stone top, she loved having you under her, she also loved to see your face while she played with you. So she would always love tying your legs open while having you lay on your back, forcing you to be at her mercy but she could watch your emotions display on your face. All your pain and pleasure.

Guidance— Agatha was a soft domme out of the bedroom, she liked to be in control with things in their lives. Agatha would often step in to order for you, help you get ready, do simple task for you till you were dependent on her help.

Humiliation- Rio had no issue teasing her sub, playing little games to keep them a blushing mess. Rio would mix praising and Degrading to keep her sub embarrassed, Rio would also give you task that were impossible to complete setting you up to fail just to punish you for failing like a sick little game.

Intimacy— Agatha loved the freaky and kinky sex, but she also loved just holding you. Agatha loved physical touch and honestly needed it, the action would often reassure her. Sometimes Agatha felt the best when you and her were cuddled up on the sofa watching tv just with you in her arms.

Jack off— Rio didn't allow you to touch yourself without her, but tying in with her humiliation kink sometimes the witch wanted a show. Rio would order you to touch yourself for her watching with a smirk while you played with yourself just for her. "Aww don't hid your face let me see how good you feel" Rios voice would whisper anytime you tried to avoid her gaze while doing so.

Kink— Agatha biggest kink, was her size kink, the idea of stretching you out on her strap or toys just watching you take everything she gave you like a good girl made every bone in her body melt. She adored watching your cunt swallow everything thing and toy she shoved inside you. She got creative with it.

Latex, Lingerie, and Leather— Rio often wore Leather, she wasn't a Latex person but adored wearing Leather and she knew you liked it when her gloves would rub on your skin. She also had a few whips and Floggers made of Leather that she would use on your body.

Mommy/Mistress— Agatha had a mommy kink and honestly was a mommy dom, to no one surprise she loved when you called her mommy, in and out of the bedroom, tying in with her love for Gentle domination she loved helping you, and babying/ caring for her sub.

Name calling— Rio would often do a bit of degrading mixed in with her Praises. Her favorites being "my dirty whore" or "you like being a play toy? My little slut?" Rios voice would be low but full of lust whenever she got to degrade her little pet.

Orgasm Control— Agatha trained you to be the perfect little pet, you knew better the to cum without mommy's permission. Agatha had you trained to not be able to cum without her orders so you always relied on Agatha's touch for your pleasure.

Power play— Rio loved a good challenge, she actually wanted you to fight back, try and dominate her, all because she knew you'd end up under her begging for her to let you cum after you tried so hard to be so big and strong only moments ago.

Quicky— Agatha didn't mind quickys but they are from from ideal, she would much more prefer to have you for a long period of time, giving her time to really enjoy you. Nonetheless sometimes quickys worked as great punishments when you were being a brat, pulling you to the side of an event out of sight just to finger you till you were close to cumming, then pulling out. Leaving you wet and needy until she had time to handle you.

Ropes— Rio did like to tie you up, but not with ropes, she wanted to use her vines and green magic to tie you up, if she was really feeling it maybe a few thorns would be in the vines. Depends how sadistic she was feeling that day.

Spanking— Agatha used spanking as a punishment, when you were being a brat it was often her method of correction. You would often find yourself acting out just to be bent of Agatha's knee held down with your pants around your ankles.

Toys— Rio had quite the collection of toys for playtime. Yet her favorite was her green strap that had many ridges along the shaft. It also paired well with a small vibrator she would put on your clit.

Unfair— Agatha did play dirty, her tricks were much kinder then Rios thought, she wanted you to fall into her trap as her sweet submissive pet, she knew ever trick to dumb you down and turn you into her perfect pet.

Vibrators— Rio absolutely loved how many uses Vibrators had, she would have you wear them like clothes for her fun. Adding them to your outfits like a little accessories watching you squirm in front of others throughout your day as she turned it on and off edging you slowly. Leaving you overstimulated.

Wild card— Agatha had no problem taking out her anger and emotions during playtime. When Agatha was stressed the sex just got better. Sometimes you didn't see it coming when you got shoved up against the wall into a heated make out sesh leaving you feeling her emotions on your lips.

eXtreme— Rio could be a bit much sometimes, her most extreme kink was knife play, sometimes she would drag her dagger down your chest laying it flat like a threat as she pounded you into the bed, the excitement of the risk brining you both pleasure.

Yearning— Agatha has a lot do trust issues, and when she found you, someone she longed for she couldn't let you slip away, She would keep you close and away from others to the best of her ability.

Zzz— Rio loved to wake you up with her tongue between your thighs, wrapped around your sensitive clit watching you whine and squirm awake.

[florencebirdsong]

Dreams

Dark Agatha Harkness x Reader

masterlist | ao3

Summary: Agnes has a nightmare. You make the mistake of letting her stay.

Tags: somnophilia, non-con, implied drugging, fingering, ficlet

Authors Note: short impulsive one shot. Please read the tags and enjoy!

Your bedroom door squeaks and you open your eyes blearily.

“Agnes?” you ask, voice thick with sleep.

“Sorry to wake you, hon. I had a bit of a nightmare. I know it’s a bit childish but is it alright if I stay in here for a little?” 

“Yeah, ‘course,” you pat around for the corner of your duvet and pull it back for her. 

“Thanks, hon. You’re just the sweetest,” she slips in. 

Closer than she needs to but that’s the usual Agnes. You shut your eyes the moment she stops moving. You’re so tired it’s a miracle you woke up at all. You can feel her staring at you.

“Was it bad?” You manage to ask coherently.

“Bit of jumbled mess, honestly. Doesn’t make much sense awake but it certainly didn’t feel too good.”

“‘M sorry,” you mumble and try to find her hand. You bump into something soft and have to run over a curve before you find it. You squeeze tight. It’s not your usual level of comfort but all you can manage on the verge of sleep.

“Thanks, toots,” Agnes says and threads your fingers together.

Your no problem turns into a hum as you drift back to sleep

————

You’ve rolled onto your other side when you wake again. Warmth surrounds you and you realise it’s Agnes. It’s comforting. You don’t even mind that one of her hands has slipped under your shirt, the little circles she’s making on your skin soothing. You fall back asleep to the feeling of her hand inching higher.

————

You feel good. Really good. Tingles turn into waves as something slips inside of you. A second one joins it and your legs open wider. There’s no faces in the dream, only hazy shapes. But the sensations are strong; the slight stretch as those things push deeper inside of you, something squeezing your breast, hot hair against the nape of your neck. 

You wake up when her third finger enters you. You’re in bed. Agnes is still wrapped around you, her sweet scent filling your nose. Her fingers inside of you.

“Agnes?” you question dazedly.

“Not quite, dear,” she says, her voice deeper than normal.

She curls her fingers. You can’t help your response to the feeling, moaning as she rubs against that spot deep inside of you. 

“Agnes, what’re you doing?” you ask even as you arch into her.

“She’s not here at the moment. Stop asking.”

“What -“ 

Her finger circles your clit and words escape you. How long has she been doing this to make you this worked up?

“Just enjoy it, dear,” Agnes says, her breath hot on the back of your neck. “You can return the favour later.”

You make a confused sound but you’re too close to stop her. Her fingers press tight circles around your clit and you gasp as you fall apart. The pleasure a soft wave washing over you. Agnes eases her ministrations but doesn’t pull away. Even when the last of your orgasm leaves you.

You twitch as her fingers continue to play gently with your clit, nearing the edge of overstimulation.

“I’m-I’m done,” you try to tell her. She doesn’t stop or respond. “…Agnes?” you ask in a small voice.

“It’s Agatha, dear,” she pulls out and forces you onto your back. “Lovely to finally meet you.”

[caroldantops]

baby, it's cold outside

ship: dark!agatha harkness x female!reader

summary/request:  darkfic; you're invited to agatha's christmas party, but you're afraid to make a move. lucky for you, agatha is more than willing to take things into her own hands.

word count: 3396

dead dove do not eat - this fic contains dark elements including rape/non-con, drugging, hints of victim blaming. proceed at your own discretion.

other warnings: non-magic au, smut (18+), top!agatha, praise, fingering (r receiving), oral (r receiving), light pain play (agatha slaps reader's body once), i think this qualifies as whump, pet names (darling, good girl, baby, and a couple more)

(I genuinely feel like I'm missing some important warnings so let me know if you think there's something i should add here)

masterlist | ao3 link

The wind practically knocks you over as you try to climb up the few stairs up Agatha’s porch. Christmas lights twinkle in the darkness, illuminating the snow that’s gently falling. Your mittens do little to block the cold, hands shaking as you reach up to knock on the door. 

The fog from your breath hangs in the air as the door swings open. Alice greets you with a sweet smile. “Hey, you! You made it! Come in, come in, it’s freezing out here.” 

“Thanks,” you smile, stepping in and sighing with relief as warmth envelops you. “I like your sweater.” 

“Fun, right?” Alice closes the door behind you, posing so you can see her sweater in full. It has a cute silhouette of a witch on a broomstick, being pulled by a group of reindeer. “Kind of a mash-up of holidays. Speaking of outfits, you look amazing tonight.” 

“I think I’m overdressed, to be honest,” you laugh as you shed your coat. You definitely regretted asking Jen of all people for outfit comparisons - she always overdressed for any occasion, and it made you lean towards a velvety black dress. Like Alice, it seems like the other guests milling around are dressed more casual. “Maybe I should just grab my sweatshirt from my car or something.” 

“Don’t you dare,” Jen says as she approaches you. Seeing the sparkly, emerald green dress she’s wearing gives you a bit of relief. At least you don’t stand out the most here. Flying under the radar was usually your go-to. The only reason you even dared come to a party hosted by someone you barely know was from Jen and Alice convincing you that it would be fun. 

Jen soon gets distracted by gossiping with Lilia, but Alice is kind enough not to abandon you. The party is actually pretty nice, despite your initial hesitance to even show up. There’s not very many people crammed into the house - just enough that it feels cozy and chatter fills the space. 

The weather outside starts getting worse through the night, unbeknownst to you as you’re tucked into the cozy library with a few others who prefer the quieter atmosphere. 

Though the night is still young, people have started slowly leaving, claiming that they want to get ahead of the inclement weather. You start to wonder if maybe you should leave a bit early as well, but Alice assures you that if it gets particularly bad, you can stay at her place since she’s much closer. So, you put that thought aside and just enjoy your evening. 

While you’re telling Alice about a weird customer that keeps showing up at the coffee shop you work at, your eye catches a glimpse of the host for the first time tonight as she waltzes into the room. 

Agatha Harkness. The older woman is dressed in a blood-red sweater and simple dress pants, some elegant rings and necklaces sparkling under the light. She’s talking to Jen and Lillia, the former of whom being the reason you even knew Agatha. You’d only talked a couple of times when Jen would drag Agatha along on a coffee run, but you’d always been a bit enamored with her beauty. 

You weren’t even really sure what she did for work - and if your friends knew they’ve never filled you in. All you knew is that she was a very powerful woman, with very powerful connections. Even Jen, who was frankly unintimidated by most people, had to admit that Agatha was a bit scary. 

What Agatha wanted, she got. And if something tried to stop her, there would be hell to pay. 

Alice nudges you, giving you a knowing look. 

“What?” You roll your eyes at her. 

“You’re painfully obvious, you know that right?” Alice raises an eyebrow, a playful smile on her face. “Go say hi.” 

“Well, I don’t want to interrupt their conversation…” The end of your sentence trails off as piercing blue eyes meet your gaze. Instincts tell you to look away, but some unknown feeling overrides that. 

Time seems to stand still as you mull over how little you know Agatha and how much you’d like to know. She regards you, blatantly ignoring the conversation she’s supposed to be participating in. Eyes scanning you, calculating. 

Maybe even hungry. 

With that thought, you’re the first one to break, pulling out your phone to fake distraction. With your gaze now averted, you miss Agatha’s lips quirk up in a smirk. She watches as you turn back to Alice, clearly flustered, and clearly not intending on making any sort of move. 

Lucky for you, she’s more than happy to take things into her own hands. 

“Alice,” Agatha’s booming voice cuts through the noise of the party. Alice looks up as Agatha struts over, boots thumping on the floor with determined purpose. “Would you be a dear and keep those two from starting a karaoke session? They’re both about one glass of red away from breaking into Mariah Carey, and frankly I’d rather risk walking across a frozen lake right now.” 

Alice rolls her eyes, but gets up to go make sure the others behave. Agatha sighs, plopping into the now empty seat next to you. Her nimble fingers trace the rim of the wine glass she’s been nursing. “Jen said you’d be coming.” 

“Oh, she did?” 

Stupid. Of course she did, she told you she would. In your nervous fumble, you reach for the drink Alice got you earlier. It’s remained almost untouched so far, but you’re desperate for an excuse to not talk. 

And, in a true feat of spectacular coordination, you manage to knock it into your lap. 

“Shit!” You groan. 

“Oh, dear,” Agatha juts her lip out in sympathy. “On such a pretty dress too! Come on, I’ll help you clean up.” 

You take a couple of napkins and blot ineffectively at the stain. “It’s okay, this is enough to dry it at least…” 

“Nonsense,” Agatha scoffs, putting her own glass down and standing up. You look at her, puzzled as she just stands there, before you realize she’s expecting you to follow. She starts leading you through the house, down the halls that no guests were allowed in. “We don’t want that to leave a stain, I have a couple of things that should help.” 

“Thank you, Agatha, really,” you say, trying not to analyze all the decor and photos that you pass as she leads you. 

You end up being led down to the basement, carefully descending the creaky wooden stairs. The dwindling party can be heard above you, muffled music and footsteps reminding you that you’re not completely alone with Agatha. 

Agatha shuffles some stuff around, looking through the bins near her washing machine. “Dear, do you have your phone on you? My eyes aren’t great in this darned dim basement light.” 

You turn on the flashlight on your phone and pass it to her, waiting patiently as she rummages around. “Aha!” 

Her grin is illuminated by the light of your phone, and you can’t help but smile - it’s infectious. She motions for you to come closer, turning on the nearby sink. 

“Alright, give me your dress for a second.” 

“What?” Your smile fades, and you recoil back in surprise. 

“Your dress, it’ll be easier for me to clean if you just take it off,” Agatha says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. She analyzes your face, and you practically see the thoughts turning in her head as your own brain fumbles for what to do. “Here, one second.” 

She grabs a couple of things from a laundry basket - a t-shirt and some sweatpants - and hands them to you. “Switch these out, and then I’ll clean your dress off.” 

You nod, taking the clothing and changing as fast as you possibly can. Your head gets stuck in the shirt for a moment, and you miss the way Agatha’s eyes rake over your bare torso and lacy bra. As your head pops out, she quickly turns her attention to your dress, rinsing it and applying some cleaning product, rubbing the fabric gently in her hands. 

“Ugh,” Agatha groans suddenly. 

“What’s wrong? Not coming out?” 

“No, the stain came out fine, but I think I wet it too much. It’s soaking, you can’t go out in this. I’ll hang it up to dry, but it’s gonna take a while,” Agatha ponders as she grabs a hanger. “You’re more than welcome to just keep those clothes for now.” 

“Oh, okay,” you say, playing with the end of the shirt. You’re resisting the urge to rub your nose against the fabric - even after having been washed it seems to smell like Agatha. “Thanks again.” 

“Of course, sweetheart, I’m happy to help,” Agatha beams. “I’m going to get this dress set up to dry, you go back upstairs and enjoy yourself. I’ll be right behind you.” 

When you get back upstairs, you realize that most of the guests have left. In fact, it seems like it’s just your friends left. Even the neighbors who live just down the street have retired for the night.

Alice spots you approaching and sighs with relief. “There you are! I was trying to find you. I’m going to need to take Jen and Lilia home. They’re in no state to drive. What are you wearing?” 

“Oh, I spilled my drink, Agatha’s hanging up my dress to dry,” you say, clearly embarrassed. Alice, the saint that she is, does not take the opportunity to tease you for being in Agatha’s clothes. 

“Gotcha.” A loud thump comes from the other side of the room, and you both look over to see Jen picking Lilia up off the floor, both of them drunkenly giggling. Alice sighs, “You’re good to drive, right? They live on the opposite side of town from my place, so if you do need me to pick you up on my way back, just call me okay?” 

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine,” you assure her. “I didn’t get a chance to drink anything before I spilled it on myself. I’m just going to thank Agatha for helping me out and then probably head out.” 

“Okay, be safe. And seriously, call me if you need anything.” 

“I will, I will,” you instinctively reach for your phone to see that it’s charged enough, but you realize you must have left it downstairs. The trio leaves in a whirlwind, and suddenly you’re left alone. 

Well, not completely alone. 

“Good grief, did everyone decide to do an Irish goodbye?” Agatha returns from the basement and immediately makes her way to the kitchen to make herself a drink. She sees you standing awkwardly and nods at the sofa. “Take a load off, honey. Your dress will probably at least be dry enough to wear comfortably in a little while. Might as well enjoy the fireplace while you wait.” 

You hear her humming to herself from the other room, and you gaze contentedly at the crackling fire, curling your legs under you. The wind outside rattles the windows. You gasp as you look outside for the first time in a while. It’s started snowing so hard that it’s hard to see, and you can tell that it’s piling up on the streets. 

“Shit, I should really try to get home,” you start to stand up, but a firm hand is placed on your shoulder, and a warm mug is shoved in your hand. You give Agatha a confused look as she sits next to you, a steaming mug in her own hand. 

“Honey, it’s getting real bad out there. Alice said you live across town, yeah?” Agatha says, eyebrows furrowed in concern. “I think it’s a bit too late to try to start driving. Good thing is, the other ladies probably made it at least back to Lilia’s place by now. They’ll probably huddle up there for the night.” 

“Yeah…How am I going to get home though?” You look at the drink Agatha handed you, realizing it’s not alcohol but hot chocolate, the top foamy with already melting whipped cream. You take a sip, sighing as the warmth fills your body. 

As you ponder your options, you take a few more sips. Agatha wipes the whipped cream that catches on your upper lip with a napkin, and you’re suddenly acutely aware of how close she is. You kind of want to shift away, but your body feels heavy, and the way she’s looking at you has you paralyzed. 

“Stay here,” Agatha whispers, breath dancing against your skin. “You can drive home in the morning once they clear the streets.”

“I wouldn’t want to impose,” you shake your head, taking another big sip of your drink, frowning as you realize you’ve almost hit the bottom. “I can figure something out…” 

“Doubt any cabs are out tonight.” 

“Seriously, Agatha, I appreciate the offer, but I should probably go,” you start to stand up, but are hit with a sudden dizziness, and immediately sit back down. “Woah…”

“You okay, baby?” Agatha asks, but her voice doesn’t sound concerned. Or surprised. 

Your stomach churns a bit. The room feels like it’s spinning, and the lights all suddenly feel way too bright. “I don’t know. Was there alcohol in this drink?” 

“Not a drop,” Agatha answers. 

“I dunno what’s wrong then,” you mumble, your words are slurred. Desperately, you try to put the pieces together and figure out what’s wrong, but everything feels muddled now. 

“Maybe you ate something bad earlier? Here, lay down on the couch, baby.” 

When did she start calling you that? You try to respond, but the words come out too muddled to understand. Agatha guides you onto your back, your head resting on a throw pillow. All of your muscles feel simultaneously heavy and weak, and you need Agatha to guide you down so you don’t just flop like a fish. 

“Agatha,” your word comes out as a strangled whine. “What’s happening?” 

“It’s okay, I’m right here,” Agatha says, her voice deep. She’s hovering over you, and you feel a shudder run through your body as she hits you with that hungry look again. 

Wait. 

The only thing you’ve drank tonight was what Agatha made you, but…she wouldn’t have. 

Right?

If your eyes didn’t feel so heavy, you’re sure they would’ve looked up at her wide in sudden realization. Nevertheless, it seems like she reads the change in expression on you, the shift from confusion to sudden fear. Agatha laughs, low and menacing. 

“So cute. I was almost worried that I wouldn’t even get the chance. But thank god for the others leaving early, hm?” The shirt Agatha gave you is tugged up, and her thumb catches your bra as well, pulling both articles of clothing over your chest in one motion. You try to wiggle away with what little strength you have, but Agatha shifts quickly, straddling your thighs and keeping you in place. 

“Pretty tits,” Agatha says, and you don’t know if she’s speaking to you or herself. 

“Ag’tha.” 

“Shh, darling. Just let it happen,” Agatha’s face hovers over yours, her pupils blown out and dark, and your stomach twists as you realize how much this is turning her on. Drugged and delirious, you’re at her complete mercy. And she couldn’t be happier. “I’m going to take such good care of you. I don’t break my toys. Not permanently, anyway.” 

Agatha’s lips press against yours, and she doesn’t even care that you’re too weak to reciprocate. She grips your chin with one hand to keep you in place, her soft lips peppering your face with kisses. It would be sweet, in any other context. You’re sure that her shiny red lipstick is all over your face, and that it’s leaving a red trail as she drags her lips down your neck. 

Her teeth sink in, and you give up your feeble attempts at fighting it. Agatha must feel you go completely limp (well, more limp than you already were), because she chuckles against your skin as she soothes the bite with her tongue. 

“Good girl. So good when you let me give you what you need.” 

The drugs in your system make it hard to register what’s happening. Agatha’s hands are on you, but you’re unable to keep up with every pinch and grope as she explores your body. A sharp tug of your nipples is enough to give you a jolt of awareness, and you moan pathetically in response, your body betraying you. 

“Oh, you like being hurt?” Agatha tugs again and gives your tit a sharp slap as well. You groan, drool starting to drip from your lips. “Dirty girl. Bet your pussy is fucking wet too.” 

She slips her hand under the waistband of your pants, nimble fingers finding your damp cunt. Her mouth opens in a dramatic gasp. “I was right! You like this, huh?” 

You babble nonsense in response, your no’s coming out incoherently. 

“What was that? You love it? Aw, baby, you flatter me,” Agatha kisses you again, not caring about the trail of drool on your cheek. She pushes her fingers into you, meeting some resistance as you’re not quite wet enough to take her so quickly. Your hips twist as the feeling of her fingers dragging against the walls of your cunt makes you flinch. “Take it, take it like a good girl for me. This is what you wanted, right? You were so obvious, with all that staring and how nervous you got around me. You were practically begging for this.” 

“Don’t…” 

“Found your voice again, it seems. Probably not for long.” Agatha clicks her tongue, shrugging as she shuffles down your body, tugging your pants down enough that your cunt is exposed. She kisses down your mound, groaning as she reaches her prize. Nose nudging your clit, she inhales your scent and moans, the vibrations close enough that your clit throbs in response. “Fuck.” 

All the sensations are reduced to vague feelings as Agatha starts to lick you in earnest. Warm. Wet. Feels good. Darkness clouds your vision as you start slipping in and out of consciousness. Fingers again, prodding at your hole. Thrusting in, curling, working you better than anyone ever has. When did she slip a third finger in? 

“Come on, baby, want you to cum all over my fingers,” She mumbles against your clit before flattening her tongue against it, fingers curling against your sensitive walls again. 

Your body shudders, but you can’t even tell if it was an orgasm. The woman you’ve been lusting after is fucking you through climax, and you’re not even going to remember it. Maybe if you’re lucky, you’ll forget this whole thing. Or at least enough to deny it. 

Because as fucked up as it is, some pathetic, yearning part of you still wants Agatha. She’s drugged and taken advantage of you, yet there’s a part of you hoping that this isn’t a one time situation, that she’ll still want you when you’re fully awake and able to enjoy yourself. 

God, there’s not enough therapy in the world to even start to tackle that, you think.

Suddenly you realize you’re crying, salty tears hitting your tongue as you breathe heavily. Agatha crawls back up your body, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “Baby, it’s okay, it’s okay. We’re done. You did so, so good for me.” 

“Good?” 

“Yes, very good,” Agatha kisses the tears from your cheeks. She rearranges your clothes so that you won’t get cold, and pulls a blanket off the back of the couch to drape over both of you. The position is awkward, since you can’t really move much, but she manages to squeeze herself into a space where she can hold you. “C’mere, darling. You took that so well. Let me hold you, pretty.” 

“Aggie,” you mumble against her skin when she pulls you against her chest, unable to conjure her full name. 

“Yes?” Agatha hums, stroking your hair. 

“Why?” 

Silence falls over the two of you for a moment as Agatha lets the question hang in the air. You can feel her heart thumping, feel the way her hands stroke soothing circles into your skin. The last thing you hear before you finally fall into a deep sleep is her voice. 

“Darling, I always get what I want.”

[claramelooo]

CRIMSON REVERIE

Hey, babies! It took me a while, but I'm here to brighten up your nights. It's been a long day, I hope you enjoy it.

Half of this chapter is just dirt, the other half is… find out ahahahah

Pairing: Dark!Witch Wanda x Fem Reader

MINORS DO NOT MUST INTERACT

Warnings: +18, smut, degradation, spit

Summary: A passage of time brings a person from the past back into your life

Hey, Now I've masterlist

UNKNOW

The following months passed like a blur of intensity and desire. Your graduation was only weeks away, and the weight of expectations and preparation was nothing compared to the uncontrollable energy that seemed to envelop you and Wanda. The secret you shared was both exhilarating and suffocating, a flame threatening to spiral out of control at any moment.

The hallway was silent, the lights dim, and the atmosphere tense, but none of that mattered when you saw Wanda approaching. The night was cold, but the heat between you made the air feel stifling, as if the world around you had disappeared. Her footsteps echoed in the corridor, but it was Wanda's gaze, the one that consumed you entirely, that made your heart race.

When she got close, time seemed to slow down. The soft smile on her face spoke volumes, more than words ever could, and without a single word, you moved closer, as if there were no other choice. Wanda’s hands gently reached for your neck, and you felt your body instinctively lean toward hers, as though an invisible force was pulling you closer.

The kiss was slow at first, exploratory, but quickly turned urgent, as though the need to touch and connect was stronger than anything else. The heat between you was almost unbearable, and you felt the pressure of wanting more, of not wanting to stop. Wanda's mouth moved down to your neck, kissing with an intensity that made your breath hitch.

When she pulled back slightly, her eyes were filled with desire, and you heard her soft whisper in your ear. “Come to my place tonight?” Her words carried a mix of seduction and expectation.

You sighed, still feeling her lips on your skin. “I can’t. It’s the last week of exams, and I have a very demanding and strict professor. I could hate her for it, but she’s lucky she kisses so well,” you said, a playful smile gracing your lips.

Wanda let out a warm laugh, and the sound made your heart race. Her smile was genuine, enchanting, and you couldn’t help but return it. “You know I’m only tougher on you because I see your potential, don’t you, my sweet?” she said, looking at you with overwhelming passion, her gaze setting everything inside you ablaze.

“As for exams, I could give you a private lesson later.” The way she said it, with that seductive tone, made the tension between you spike even higher. Wanda seemed determined to make you cave, and you knew the game was only just beginning.

Her mouth found your neck again, and this time the sensation was even more intense. Gentle kisses, but with a silent urgency. You faltered, feeling your body surrender to the heat and desire.

“Trying to corrupt me, Professor Maximoff?” you murmured, your voice faltering as the pressure in your chest grew. But in that moment, there was no resistance left.

Wanda paused for a moment, looking at you with a mischievous smile on her lips. “If I’m corrupting you, you’re going to love every second of it,” she whispered before claiming your lips again in a kiss that burned like fire.

You met in secret corners whenever you could, as if the universe conspired to bring your bodies together in moments that were never convenient but always felt essential.

The twins had grown used to your presence, in a way that made it seem like you’d always been part of their lives. Mornings at Wanda’s house were filled with lively voices, laughter, and the sound of hurried footsteps in the hallway. The routine was comfortable, and your inclusion in it had been so organic that even Wanda hadn’t realized how essential you had become.

“Is Y/n coming over today?” Tommy asked casually, shoveling a spoonful of cereal into his mouth as he flipped through a comic book. His tone was nonchalant, but there was a clear note of expectation in his question.

Wanda, attempting to maintain her composure while buttering toast, raised an eyebrow. “Maybe,” she replied, trying to sound indifferent, but the small smile threatening to surface betrayed her.

“I hope so!” Billy exclaimed, pushing his chair back with enthusiasm. “She always plays video games with me, and honestly, she’s way better than you, Mom.”

Wanda rolled her eyes, but couldn’t hide the amused sparkle in them. “That’s because I let you win,” she retorted with mock indignation.

“Sure,” Tommy drawled, stretching the word with teenage sarcasm. He laughed and added, as though it were a fact, “Besides, she makes better pancakes than you too.”

“Better pancakes?!” Wanda stopped what she was doing, looking at him with a theatrically offended expression. “I’m your mother, you know? I could very well turn your pancakes into broccoli.”

Billy and Tommy exchanged knowing looks and laughed, clearly unimpressed by the threat. “You’d never do that, Mom,” Tommy said confidently. “And you like Y/n as much as we do.”

Wanda’s laugh was soft but filled with affection. She knew the boys were right, and seeing the bond they had formed with you warmed her heart in a way she hadn’t expected. Your presence brought something to the house she hadn’t realized was missing: a lightness, an almost childlike joy she hadn’t felt in years.

When you arrived that afternoon, the door opened before you could even knock, with Tommy shouting down the hallway, “She’s here! Mom, Y/n’s here!”

Billy appeared right behind him, holding two video game controllers. “Quick, Y/n, you’re my partner today. Mom’s terrible at this game.”

You laughed, slipping off your shoes at the entrance before being practically dragged to the living room. Wanda watched from the kitchen doorway, a small but genuine smile on her lips. You glanced at her, exchanging a look that spoke volumes without saying a word.

The twins didn’t just accept your presence—they embraced it as essential. For Wanda, seeing how you fit into their lives was both frightening and comforting. Because deep down, she knew you weren’t just a visitor—you were already a cornerstone of the family she hadn’t realized she was rebuilding.

The kitchen was filled with the delicious aroma of spices and something baking in the oven. Wanda stood with her back to you, her auburn hair neatly draped over her shoulders as she stirred something in a pan. The sight was captivating—her figure bathed in the warm kitchen light, an apron loosely tied around her waist, her movements precise yet carrying that natural touch of chaos that seemed uniquely hers.

You approached from behind, making no sound, until you were close enough to feel the warmth of her body mingling with the heat of the stove. “What’s for dinner, Mommy?” You mimicked the casual tone that Tommy and Billy often used, but your voice carried an undertone that shifted the meaning entirely. The playful twist of that last word made Wanda’s fingers pause for a brief moment as she stirred the pan.

She partially turned toward you, raising an eyebrow as a slow smile spread across her lips. Her gaze lingered on you, trailing over every detail with a mix of amusement and something far deeper. “Careful with that tone, my sweet,” she replied, her voice soft yet laced with an edge that sent shivers down your spine.

You tilted your head, feigning innocence with every line of your expression. “What? I was just asking, Mommy,” you repeated, your mischievous smile challenging any hint of seriousness.

Wanda chuckled softly, shaking her head as she returned her attention to the pan. But you noticed the slight tremor in her shoulders, like she was suppressing either a laugh or something far more intense. “Be a good girl and grab the salt for me,” she said, her tone light, but the glance she cast over her shoulder held a spark that made you pause for a heartbeat.

You complied, but not before letting your hands graze over the fabric of her apron in a slow, deliberate touch, pretending it was an innocent move to reach the cupboard. “Here you go, Mommy,” you handed her the salt with a playful grin, your voice carrying a warmth that neither of you could pretend to ignore.

Wanda took the salt, but instead of turning back to the stove, she faced you fully. Her eyes locked onto yours, and the intensity of her gaze made your pulse quicken. She laughed softly, tilting her head slightly as if studying you. “Are you sure you want to play this game with me, darling?” she whispered, her voice dripping with both amusement and warning, the challenge unmistakable.

You leaned in just a little closer, your smile sweet but laced with deliberate provocation. “I never start something I’m not willing to finish.”

Without a word, Wanda reached for you, her hands sliding around your waist with a possessiveness that sent a thrill through your entire body. “Then you’d better be ready for what comes next,” she murmured, her lips ghosting over yours.

The kiss that followed was anything but controlled. Your hands tangled in her auburn hair, pulling her closer with a hunger you couldn’t disguise. Wanda responded with a low, needy sound that reverberated through you, making your heart pound harder. Her lips moved against yours in a way that demanded everything—every breath, every thought, every piece of you.

Her hands gripped your waist, firm and commanding, as though marking her claim. The contrast between the softness of her touch and the desperate way she held you was intoxicating. Each kiss was a battle—tongues teasing, lips colliding with fervor, both of you pushing and pulling, testing limits and breaking down any pretense of restraint.

Your lungs burned from the lack of air, but neither of you cared. The desire between you was raw, unrelenting, a force neither of you could tame. Wanda pushed you gently against the counter, her body pressed tightly against yours, every curve and heartbeat aligned as if the universe itself demanded it.

“Wanda…” you tried to murmur, your voice breathless, but she deepened the kiss, nibbling on your bottom lip before whispering against your mouth.

“Don’t ask me to stop,” she said, her voice rough, husky, and laced with an almost primal urgency.

Your response was immediate—your fingers tightening in her hair, pulling just hard enough to draw a ragged sound from her lips. That sound, desperate and needy, made your entire body ignite. The control she usually exuded was slipping through her fingers, and knowing you were the cause of her unraveling was exhilarating.

“Wanda…” you tried again, your voice barely a whisper, breathless. “The dinner… it’s going to burn.”

“Let it burn,” she replied, a playful yet heated grin tugging at her lips. But then, as if a thought struck her, she pulled back slightly, her eyes still locked on yours, filled with unspoken promises and desires she wasn’t ready to let go of just yet.

“This is about patience, little one,” she teased, adjusting her tousled hair as she turned her attention back to the stove. The triumphant smirk on her face told you she knew exactly what she was doing to you. But you knew just as well—this wasn’t over. Not between the two of you.

As you watched her from behind, stirring the pan as though nothing had happened, you realized with a startling clarity that you were hopelessly, utterly in love. Every gesture, every glance, every playful laugh of hers seemed to take root in your very soul, grounding you in a way nothing else could. Wanda had become your gravity, the very center of your universe.

“Later,” she said suddenly, breaking the silence. Her voice was soft, but the weight of her words settled between you like a promise. She glanced over her shoulder with a playful glint in her eyes. “After the boys are in bed. I’ll be waiting for you.”

You didn’t respond. You didn’t need to. With Wanda, words were never enough to capture the depth of what you felt.

The moment was interrupted by the sudden appearance of Billy, who leaned casually against the doorway, his expression caught between suspicion and amusement. “You guys sure you don’t need any help with… whatever that was?” His voice held a note of teenage skepticism, his sharp gaze flitting between you and Wanda.

Without missing a beat, Wanda smoothed her hair with a quick gesture and offered a smile that was almost too convincing. “No, sweetheart, everything’s under control,” she said, her voice light and motherly, though you could hear the underlying mischief she worked so hard to mask.

Billy shrugged, his suspicion still lingering as he made his way back to the living room. But not before casting one last wary glance in your direction.

Once he was out of sight, you leaned in closer to Wanda, unable to contain your laughter. “That was close,” you whispered, your amusement clear. But the sly grin she shot your way as she stirred the pot told you that, for Wanda, the thrill of almost getting caught only made things more fun.

The kitchen was bathed in a soft, golden light, the scent of dinner filling the air. From the living room, you could hear the faint sound of Billy and Tommy talking, the clink of dishes still scattered across the table from the meal. It was a peaceful domestic scene, but the weight of something unspoken hung between you all.

Billy was the first to break the silence. His head bowed, fingers toying with a throw pillow on his lap, he finally spoke. “I know it’s better this way, you know? The divorce… it was for the best. But it’s still hard to accept.”

Tommy, sitting beside him with his arms crossed, glanced at you with an expression that seemed to seek answers. “It’s weird. We knew they weren’t happy for a long time. But now that it’s over… it feels more real. More empty.”

You took a deep breath, leaning forward to make sure your voice stayed calm and reassuring. “I know it’s not easy, boys,” you began, your gaze soft and steady. “It’s normal to feel this way. You lost something that was part of your life for so long. But sometimes… letting go is the only way to make room for something better.”

Billy looked up at you, his brown eyes reflecting a vulnerability he usually kept hidden. "Do you think it was the best thing for Mom?"

You smiled gently, thinking about how radiant Wanda had seemed lately, despite everything. She was lighter, more present, and her eyes sparkled in a way that felt almost magical. "I think your mom is finding her path," you replied. "And I think she's happier now. It doesn’t mean she doesn’t miss what was, but... sometimes doing something for herself is the best thing she can do for you, too."

Tommy scoffed, but he didn’t seem annoyed. "She’s been smiling more. Even singing while she cooks. That never used to happen."

Billy nodded, and a small smile began to appear on his face. "She does seem less tired. Like, stronger somehow."

"That’s because she has you," you said, looking at both of them. "You’re what keeps her strong, always have been. But also... she’s letting herself be happy again, and that’s important."

Tommy narrowed his eyes at you, analyzing your every word. "And you have something to do with that, don’t you? We notice. You make her smile like that—like, goofy."

You tried not to laugh, but his comment caught you off guard. "I just want her to be happy, just like you do."

Billy tilted his head thoughtfully, a small smile forming on his lips. "I think that’s what matters then. If she’s happy, and you make her happy... I think we can get used to that."

You froze for a moment, Billy’s words echoing in your mind. He’d said it so naturally, almost casually, but there was something in his tone, something in the way he looked at you, that made your heart race. Had he figured it out? Were you and Wanda being too obvious?

"I... I just want the best for her," you responded, your voice slightly lower as you tried to maintain your composure. Your smile was calm, but inside, tension built.

Billy didn’t seem entirely convinced. He shrugged, but the small smile on his lips betrayed that he knew more than he was letting on. "We know," he said, but the glance he exchanged with Tommy said otherwise. Tommy raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment, simply heading toward the kitchen as if the exchange had been insignificant.

You took a deep breath, trying to stay calm as the boys disappeared into the other room. It was impossible not to wonder: how much did they know? Or worse, how much could others notice? You and Wanda had been careful, but the glances, the discreet touches, and the stolen moments might be starting to spill beyond the four walls you believed to be safe.

When you entered the kitchen, Wanda was plating small portions of dessert. Her hair was still tousled, and the smile she gave you was enough to calm the turmoil in your mind—if only for a brief moment.

"Everything okay?" she asked, noticing something in your expression.

"Yeah, of course," you replied, picking up a plate and trying to appear casual. But as the boys began devouring their desserts, you couldn’t shake the feeling that the façade was starting to crack.

Had Billy noticed? And if he had, how long would it be before others did too?

Before you could dwell on it, Wanda’s voice cut through your thoughts. "Dessert’s ready! Hope you still have room."

The twins quickly got up, the heavy conversation seeming to dissolve with the promise of something sweet. As they headed toward the kitchen, you lingered on the couch for a moment, feeling a warm comfort in your chest. They were still adjusting, but deep down, you knew they were beginning to accept, little by little, this new chapter in their lives—and in yours, too.

The living room was lit only by the soft glow of a lamp, creating an intimate atmosphere as rain began to lightly tap against the windows. You were on the couch with Wanda, a glass of wine in hand, feeling the warmth of the alcohol begin to rise, heating more than just your body. She was beside you, her hair still messy from the day, her eyes gleaming in a way you knew wasn’t just from the wine.

Your conversation flowed easily, as it always did, but there was something in the air—something more intense. Every word seemed to carry an added weight, a current of energy connecting you invisibly.

"You know," Wanda began, looking at her glass, though the soft smile on her lips was impossible to ignore. "The boys adore you. They’re always asking about you. I think, if they could, they’d keep you here forever."

"Yeah?" you replied, trying to sound casual, though her tone made your heart race. "And what about you? Would you keep me here forever, too?"

Wanda laughed, a soft, enchanting sound that made you smile automatically. "You already know the answer to that," she murmured, finally lifting her eyes to meet yours.

The intensity in her gaze made you forget the world for a moment. Or maybe it was the wine, but you knew you had to say what had been stuck in your throat for so long. Placing your glass on the coffee table, you turned fully to her, feeling your face heat up.

"Wanda..." you began, your voice a little lower but filled with sincerity. She tilted her head, curious, and that small, intimate gesture nearly disarmed you. "I... I’m completely in love with you. I can’t stop thinking about you, and every time I’m here, it feels like the whole world makes sense."

Her eyes sparkled, and she placed her glass next to yours. Without saying anything, she leaned in, one of her hands finding its way to your face, her warm fingers gently stroking your skin.

"You know I feel the same way, don’t you?" she said, her voice low, almost a whisper, as her face was so close you could smell the sweet scent of the wine she’d been drinking.

"But I needed to say it," you murmured, your voice almost failing as she leaned even closer. "I needed you to know how much you mean to me... And that you’d keep me here forever. You’re so possessive, aren’t you?" you teased, a playful smile tugging at your lips.

Wanda narrowed her eyes, a dangerous smile forming on her lips. "Possessive?" she repeated, her voice soft but laced with a tone that sent a shiver down your spine.

"Don’t look at me like that. You know you are," you continued, the playful smile growing. "I see the way you look at me, like I’m something that only belongs to you."

She tilted her head, her fingers gliding across your cheek with a tenderness that completely contrasted the intensity in her eyes. "And aren’t you?"

You opened your mouth to respond, but Wanda was quicker. She grasped your chin firmly, tilting your head slightly back, forcing you to hold her gaze. "If you think you can play games with me, my cheeky girl, you’re very mistaken."

"Oh, really?" you replied, trying to keep the defiant tone, but your voice faltered under her sharp gaze.

"Yes," she murmured, leaning in until your lips almost touched. "Because I don’t just want you forever... I’ll keep you forever. And no matter how much you tease, in the end, you always come back to me. Isn’t that right?"

You tried to respond, but the words disappeared as her fingers slid into your hair, tugging slightly as she brushed her lips against yours, never fully kissing them.

"See?" she continued, her voice a husky whisper. "Even now, you can’t resist. You’re trembling for me. That’s how I like you: vulnerable and completely mine."

The defiant smile you tried to maintain was quickly crumbling, but still, you whispered, "Who said I’m trembling for you?"

Wanda let out a low, provocative laugh. "Oh, darling," she murmured, her fingers still in your hair as she finally pressed her lips to yours, the kiss intense and possessive, as if she were proving a point.

When you pulled apart, both of you were breathless, and she smiled triumphantly. "Still want to play hard to get, or shall we show the world the permanent marks I’ve left on you?"

You looked theatrically at your own body, feigning innocence. "Permanent marks? I don’t see any."

Your heart pounded fiercely, and you knew there was no denying it. Not after this. Not with Wanda looking at you as if you were the center of her universe.

The kiss had turned into something far more intense. Wanda’s lips moved against yours with a hunger that seemed to grow with every second, as if the entire world could vanish, and the two of you would still be there, utterly consumed by each other.

Your hands found their way back into her red hair, tangling your fingers through the silky strands, pulling just enough to elicit a low, needy sound from Wanda’s throat. That sound only fueled the fire already burning inside you. Her hands gripped your waist, firm and possessive, her touch sending a shiver through your skin, as if she was carving her claim into you.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless. A thin strand of saliva still connected your lips, glistening under the soft light of the room. Wanda’s eyes — green and deep — were blown wide with desire and something more profound, a look so intense it sent chills down your spine.

She leaned in, her mouth brushing against your ear, and in a voice husky and loaded with intent, she whispered through clenched teeth:

"Bedroom. Now."

Your heart raced at her command, sweeter and more irresistible than any promise. Without a second thought, you stood up, your hand entwined with hers as you led her down the dark hallway, the hurried sound of footsteps echoing on the wooden floor.

The world outside seemed to vanish. Only the anticipation and the heat between you remained real.

Wanda pushed you against the bedroom door before you could even fully reach it. The soft thud reverberated through the room, and the cold wood against your back contrasted sharply with the feverish warmth radiating from her. Your breathing was uneven, but so was hers. Wanda’s gaze burned — predatory, filled with promises — as if nothing could stop her now that she had decided you were hers.

"You’re such a naughty little girl…" Her voice, low and laced with her accent, slid over you like velvet. "Always thinking you can get away with it, don’t you?"

"I didn’t…" you started, trying to regain some control of the situation, but Wanda was already on you, pressing a finger to your lips to silence you.

"Shh…" she whispered, her eyes blazing with intensity. "I see you. All this bravado… this courage to challenge me." She smiled slowly, dangerously. "But I’m going to teach you something, dorogaya. I’m the one in charge here."

Before you could respond, Wanda captured your mouth again, the kiss now fierce, almost brutal. Her teeth grazed your bottom lip, biting softly, and you gasped against her. Your hands reached out, seeking to reclaim some control, sliding to her shoulders, but Wanda only chuckled against your lips.

"Oh… trying to fight back? How cute." She tugged on your hair a little harder, tilting your head back to expose your neck. Her lips traveled downward, leaving a trail of warm, wet kisses along your skin. "But that won’t work. You know that, don’t you?"

"Maybe I like to fight," you whispered, though your voice was already trembling, nearly pleading.

Wanda raised her head, locking eyes with you, a gleam of dark amusement and challenge in her expression. "Oh. Do you, now? Let’s see how long you can last, little warrior."

With a swift movement, Wanda grabbed your hands and pinned them above your head, holding your wrists with a controlled yet firm grip. The weight of the gesture sent your pulse racing, and you struggled, but it was futile. She had total control.

"You have no idea what you’ve awakened, Y/n," Wanda murmured, her voice deep and dripping with desire. "I’ve waited for this. Waited for you for so long. And now that I have you… there’s no turning back."

She leaned in closer, her lips brushing your ear again. "You will surrender, my clever little slut. You’ll beg. I want to hear you say… that you belong to me."

Your entire body trembled, a mix of nervous anticipation and pure, unrelenting need. "I…"

"I love how, the more you try to resist, the more your body betrays you," Wanda said with a soft laugh, the sound vibrating against your skin. "Look at you, already shaking for me. Your mouth says one thing… but your body? It’s already answering me."

She released one of your hands, only to let her palm slide slowly down your body, exploring every curve. Her fingers stopped at your waist, squeezing possessively, making you gasp once again.

"Every sound you make, every shiver… it’s mine," Wanda whispered. "You’re my precious little doll. My masterpiece. And I’m going to shape you exactly how I want."

You tried to hold on to your defiant stance, but as Wanda’s hand traveled further down, stopping at your thigh and creeping upward, a needy moan escaped your lips.

"Ah, there it is…" Wanda smiled, satisfied. "That’s the truth, isn’t it? You like this. You want to be guided. To be dominated."

She brought her mouth back to yours, kissing you slower this time, but with an intensity that conveyed everything she wanted without needing words.

"Now," Wanda said, her eyes gleaming with a subtle red glow, her tone firm and irresistible. "Be a good girl and lie down on the bed."

Your body obeyed before your mind could protest. Something in her tone, in the natural authority Wanda exuded, made any remaining resistance evaporate.

As you settled on the bed, Wanda stood at the edge, watching you as if she were about to devour you. Slowly, she removed her coat, letting it fall to the floor, revealing her bare shoulders and the plunging neckline of her dress. Then, she crawled onto the bed, moving toward you with predatory grace.

"Do you want me to be gentle?" she asked, her voice sweet but laced with malice. "Or would you rather find out what happens when you try to challenge the only person who can make you truly scream?"

Before you could answer, Wanda captured your lips again, and the world around you vanished.

Her lips claimed yours with renewed intensity, each kiss a reminder that you were entirely at her mercy. When you instinctively tried to move, to regain some semblance of control, Wanda grabbed your wrists again, pinning them to the bed with both hands this time.

"You said you like to fight," she murmured, her dangerous whisper brushing against your mouth, "but let’s be honest… you like losing even more."

Your body arched against her in response, every nerve on high alert. You wanted to deny it, to say you still had control, but the truth was undeniable: Wanda had already won.

She traced her hands slowly down your arms to your shoulders, her fingers leaving a burning path of fire wherever they touched. "Every time you try to resist, it only makes me want to break you more," Wanda whispered, her gaze never wavering from yours. "You know that, don't you? That I will get what I want."

"You're so arrogant," you said, trying to keep your voice steady and teasing, but it came out softer than you'd intended.

Her dangerous smile deepened. "And you're so stubborn… But look at you. Already panting. Already begging with your body, even if your mouth refuses to admit it."

Her hands slid down to your waist again, pulling you closer with a possessive grip that made your skin tingle. "Do you know what I love most about you, Y/n? That rebellious streak of yours. That little brat who thinks she can challenge me. But do you know what I love even more?"

She leaned in until her lips were a mere breath away from your ear. "The moment you break."

Your heart raced, and you bit your lip to hold back the moan threatening to escape. But Wanda noticed. Of course she did.

"Oh… you're such a clever little slut, aren't you?" she teased, her fingers drifting dangerously close to the hem of your clothes. "But that won't last, my dear. I'll make you beg. Stuff you so full you’ll turn into my dumb little whore. And I’ll love every second of it."

You tried to squirm away, to move your arms and legs in resistance. But Wanda only laughed, the sound reverberating against your skin. "No. You're going to stay exactly where I want you. Do you know why?"

She lifted her head just enough to look directly into your eyes. The intensity of her gaze burned through you, making your whole body tremble.

"Because you’re mine," Wanda declared, her voice firm, unquestionable. "My little doll. My toy. My masterpiece."

She grasped your chin, pulling your face toward hers, capturing your lips in a kiss that left no room for resistance. Wanda wasn’t asking. She was taking.

When she finally pulled back, a satisfied smirk played on her lips. "Ah, look at you… so beautiful when you’re vulnerable." Her thumb ran over your bottom lip, pressing lightly. "So ready to be molded."

She shifted just enough to straddle you, pinning your legs beneath her weight. "Now, Y/n… tell me. Who’s in charge here?"

You tried to hold on to the last shred of control you thought you had. But Wanda’s gaze burned into you, melting any defenses you still clung to.

She tilted her head slightly, her smirk darkening. "Say it," she commanded, her voice low, dangerous. "Or I’ll make you say it."

"You…" Your voice faltered, trembling. Your pride crumbled beneath her dominance. "You’re in charge."

Wanda’s smile widened, her eyes flashing red for a brief moment. "Good girl." Her fingers traced your cheek as if admiring a work of art. "Now, be a good girl and spread your legs for me."

Your body obeyed before your mind could process the command. Wanda’s hands trailed down your body, her fingers exploring your skin with a precision that was almost torturous.

"I’m going to make sure you remember this," she whispered. "I’m going to mark you in a way no one else ever can erase. Because you belong to me, and I belong to you. Now and always."

When her touch finally reached where you needed her most, your whole body ignited, and any lingering resistance was consumed by the burning desire only Wanda could provoke.

"Good girl," Wanda whispered again, her lips brushing your ear as her fingers traced slow, teasing circles on your aching core.

The atmosphere between you shifted the moment you shot her that defiant look. Something thick and electric brewed in the air, like a storm about to crash down on you.

"Always so full of attitude, aren’t you?" Wanda said, crossing her arms as she tilted her head slightly, her predatory gaze locked on you. "Should I remind you of your place, little doll?"

You couldn’t help the mischievous grin that tugged at your lips. "You can try…"

Oh, that was the breaking point. The familiar crimson glow flickered around Wanda’s eyes, and in an instant, she pounced. Before you could react, you were pressed into the bed, her hands firm on your shoulders.

"Ah… my little rebel," Wanda murmured, her voice low and dripping with desire and control. "Do you really think you can play with me and walk away unscathed?"

The blush on your face deepened as you tried to keep up your rebellious front, but the way her hands gripped you, the sheer authority radiating from her, made your legs feel weak.

"You said you like to fight," she continued, her fingers trailing slowly over your face, "but I think what you like even more is being reminded of your place."

Your breath hitched. You knew you should resist, keep teasing her, but the weight of Wanda’s dominance over you was overwhelming. Your thoughts began to blur, dissolving into pure need.

"You should be a good little pet for me," Wanda whispered, her fingers sliding torturously slow over your body. "Submissive. Sweet. So obedient."

The sound of her voice — husky, commanding, dripping with promises — made your heart race. You opened your mouth to respond, but all that escaped was a trembling whimper.

"Oh… Please, please," you whimpered, barely recognizing your own voice, soft and yielding. "Show me my place. I’ll be so good for you, mommy…"

The words tumbled out before you could stop them, a deep instinct finally breaking free from within you.

Wanda chuckled, a low, satisfied sound. "Ah, there she is," she murmured, her eyes gleaming with delight. "My good little girl, ready to be taught."

With a firm motion, Wanda pulled you up and positioned you across her lap, sitting on the edge of the bed. She settled you over her thighs effortlessly, as if she’d already imagined this moment a thousand times before.

"Now," Wanda said, her hand gliding slowly down your back to your waist, "let’s get rid of these, shall we?"

With a decisive tug, she removed your pants, leaving your bare skin exposed to the cool air of the room. The contrast between her warmth and the room’s chill made you shiver slightly against her lap.

"Always so defiant," Wanda murmured, running her hand lightly over your skin, tracing the curve of your ass. "But I’ll mold you. I’ll break you down and build you back up, exactly the way I want."

Her hand came down with a sharp slap, the sting reverberating through your body. You gasped, your hips instinctively pressing back toward her touch.

"That’s right," Wanda said softly, her voice thick with approval. "Good girl. Let mommy take care of you."

She ran her hand gently over your exposed skin, a touch that was both comforting and threatening. “You know why I’m doing this, don’t you?” You nodded, your breath coming in short gasps.

“Because you need to be reminded…” Wanda gave your buttock a light slap, nothing more than a teasing touch. “Of your place.” She took the opportunity to slide her fingers through your wet folds, making you push against her. “Hmmm, eager…”

The first slap came for real. Not too hard, but firm enough to make your skin sting slightly. You let out a moan, surprised by the intensity.

“This is just the beginning,” Wanda said, her hand gently caressing the spot where she had hit. “Tell me, baby doll. How many do you deserve?”

“I… don’t… know,” you murmured, your voice shaking with anticipation.

“Oh, then I’ll decide,” Wanda stated, with a satisfied smile. “I like this better.”

Another slap. Then another. With each slap, the heat on your skin grew, and with it, the need growing inside you.

“You’re becoming so beautiful for me,” Wanda praised, her voice soft and mesmerizing. “Look how your skin is blushing. That’s how you should be—marked by me, remembering who you belong to.”

You writhed on her lap, each slap followed by a caress that made your body beg for more.

“Please…” you whispered, barely audible.

“Please what?” Wanda asked, her tone teasing, when she pronounces the t with rigidity. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want to… be your good little girl.”

Wanda laughed again, pleased. “Oh, you’re learning fast. But we still have a long way to go, baby doll.”

She slapped again, harder this time, eliciting a loud moan from you. Her hand slowly slid down to your thighs, parting them slightly. “Now,” Wanda murmured, leaning down until her lips brushed your ear, “show me how good you can be for me.” Wanda caressed your buttocks gently, her fingers tracing delicate patterns on the already flushed skin, while you breathed heavily, trying to control the tremors that ran through your body.

She seemed to absorb your every reaction—every writhe, every sigh, every muffled moan. Her voice was low and gravelly, but her control was absolute.

“Beg,” Wanda said, her hand gliding lazily over your skin. “I want to hear you say you need this.” You swallowed hard, your heart beating so fast you could feel the blood pounding in your ears.

“Wanda, please—” A firm slap cut through the air before you could finish your sentence, tearing a desperate moan from your lips.

“No,” she corrected, her voice thick with authority. “Try again. And use that title I love so much. Come on, baby doll.” Your face burned with embarrassment and excitement. The words caught in your throat, but you knew she wouldn’t give in until she heard them.

“Please… Mommy,” you whispered, barely recognizing your own voice. “I need… I need you to teach me. I need to be your good girl.”

A satisfied smile played across Wanda’s lips. “Oh, that’s better.” She ran her fingers along your back, slowly rising to the base of your neck. “But you still sound shy. I want to hear you really beg.”

Another slap. Harder this time. Your skin was hot and sensitive, and the shock of the impact tore a sob of pleasure from your throat.

“Please, Mommy,” you moaned, your voice finally breaking under the weight of need. “Show me my place. Teach me. I want to be everything you want. Please do this to me.”

Wanda laughed softly, the sound rumbling like a caress along your spine. She loved watching you slowly break under the weight of your own submission, your resistance dissolving into pure surrender.

“Good little girl,” she murmured, her words a balm and a promise. “Now. Look how beautiful you are when you stop fighting and just accept who you are to me.”

Her hands moved again, one gripping your waist tightly while the other traced the contours of your buttocks, teasing the sensitive skin.

"Will you be my good girl?" Wanda asked, her voice low but relentless.

"Yes," you answered immediately, without thinking. "Yes, Mommy. Please. I'm yours."

"Mmm…" She seemed to savor your words, as if each syllable was a confirmation of her ownership over you. "Mine. Only mine. I'm going to sculpt you exactly how I want. Every sound you make, every mark on your skin… all of it belongs to me now."

Another slap, slower, almost gentle, but still firm enough to send a shiver through your body.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Wanda teased, her hand moving down to your thighs, parting them slowly. "You're so wet for me. So eager to please."

You moaned in response, unable to form coherent words.

"I want to hear it," she insisted, her voice an irresistible command.

"Tell me you're my good little girl."

"I am," you gasped, your entire body shaking with need. "I'm your good little girl, Mommy. Please, please… Touch me. Teach me. Do whatever you want with me."

Wanda ran her fingers over your warm skin, the tips touching where you wanted them most, but not giving you the relief your body begged for.

"You're so desperate," she murmured, her lips brushing your ear as her voice dropped to a seductive whisper. "Desperate to be guided. Desperate to be possessed."

You nodded frantically, your face buried against her thighs. "Yes, please… I need you."

Wanda laughed again, satisfied. "Oh, I know you do, baby doll. And I'll give you everything you want. But only when I decide you deserve it."

Her promise was as much torture as it was a gift, and you knew without a shadow of a doubt that you were exactly where you were supposed to be: at her feet, vulnerable and surrendered.

“Thank you for this.” Wanda demands, thrusting her fingers inside you, making you exasperated. In that moment, you really want to thank her like never before.

“Fuck. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you, Mommy. I’m so grateful— OH FUCK,” you groan in pleasure, and hear Wanda hum in approval.

“There’s my girl,” she says, and thrusts deeper inside you.

You moan, drawn out and needy for the woman who expresses pain on her face. Wanda feels a pressure between her legs that she knows exactly what it is and how to stop.

The woman pulls out of you, making you protest. “Mommy prepared something special today. For you. For us.”

The feeling of being submissive to Wanda was too intense to be understood in words. When she pulled away for a moment, you felt the emptiness left by the heat of her body, a loss that made your chest tighten immediately.But when you tried to lift your face to see her, everything around you dissolved into darkness.

It was as if her own magic had wrapped your eyes in an invisible blindfold—there was nothing you could see except the pulsing darkness, as if it were a reminder of her presence, even though she wasn’t touching you.

Your heart raced. The absence of vision made every other sense amplify. The sound of Wanda’s soft footsteps, the brush of her breath against your skin, even her subtle scent—something that mingled woodsmoke and wildflowers—felt so much more intense.

When you tried to move, you found you couldn’t. Your wrists and ankles were bound by something invisible, as if magical roots had wrapped themselves around your limbs, keeping you immobile, completely vulnerable and at her mercy. The shiver that ran down your spine was so strong that you shivered.

“What… did you do… to me?” you managed to mutter, but even forming the words felt like too much. Your mouth was dry, your voice a broken whisper.

Across the room, Wanda laughed softly—that soft, dangerous sound that made your skin crawl and your stomach churn with anticipation.

“I put you exactly where you were supposed to be,” she replied, her voice a whisper filled with power. “Blinded. Trapped. Completely mine.”

Your breathing came faster, almost panting. Her every word seemed to carry weight and intent, as if she were branding you deeply, from the inside out. You tried to move again, but each attempt was futile—you were perfectly trapped, vulnerable in a way you had never been before.

Wanda moved closer, and you felt her fingertips glide across your skin. It was a light touch, almost tender, but it left a trail of heat in its wake. She started on your face, tracing the contours of your jaw, until she reached your neck.

“You’re not scared,” Wanda murmured, a hint of surprise in her voice, but there was a hidden satisfaction there. “You should be shaking. But you’re not, are you?”

You shook your head slowly, your mouth half open as you tried to breathe. “No… I’m not.”

“And why?” Wanda asked, her fingertips now moving to your shoulder, then down your exposed back.

“Because…” You swallowed hard, trying to gather your scattered thoughts. But there was only one truth. “Because I trust you.”

The words hung in the air like a sacred confession. Wanda was silent for a moment, before she laughed softly again.

“Good girl,” she murmured. “But don’t think that will save you, because trust doesn’t mean I’ll go easy on you.”

You felt the tips of her nails press lightly into your skin, just enough to leave a mark.

“It means you’ve given yourself away. And now…” Wanda paused for a moment, her fingers slowly running down your waist, down to where your buttocks were still exposed. “Now you’re going to feel exactly what it means to be mine.”

Your entire body trembled beneath her touch, and you couldn’t help the moan that escaped your lips.

She leaned in again, and the touch of her lips against your ear made you shiver. “You begged me to show you your place,” Wanda continued, her voice a low purr. “Now, baby doll… I’m going to teach you. And you’re going to appreciate every second of it.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but all that came out was a breathless moan as you felt her hands explore your body again, this time without any restraint or hesitation. Wanda was in absolute control, and you knew you were about to be pushed to a limit you didn't even know existed.

And you wanted this.

You needed this.

You needed her.

While the woman was away, you could hear the sound of latex sliding over her skin. The strap-on Wanda was wearing wasn't as big as she wanted—but she was thinking about you. It must be pleasurable for both you and her. She wants to break you in little by little, wants to see how far you can take her cock.

Wanda's warm hand and black-stained fingers wrap around the base of the strap-on, connecting it directly to her clit. She lets out a needy sigh, walking back to the bed.

You feel the woman's knees sink into the mattress beside you, each movement calculated, a silent dance that makes the air around you feel thick and charged. The weight of anticipation was piling on your shoulders, making your heart hammer in your chest. Not knowing what would happen next should have been terrifying… but it wasn’t.

It was intoxicating. The uncertainty left you on fire, the unknown awakening something you hadn’t known existed. The lack of control over your own body, over your desires, was something you had never imagined you could desire until now—and yet, here you were, yearning for more.

Then Wanda’s nose lightly brushed the curve of your neck, inhaling deeply of your essence. The warm air that escaped her lips against your skin sent a shiver down your spine.

“You’re delicious,” she murmured, almost like a secret. The tone of her voice, low and gravelly, seemed to slide through you like an electric current. “So soft…” Her mouth found your cheek in a slow, wet kiss that left a trail of heat and a shiver of anticipation. It wasn’t just a touch—it was a declaration. A claim.

“Speak any word to me, pretty girl,” Wanda whispered against your skin. It was a command, but there was a dark sweetness in her tone, as if she were guiding you, encouraging you to surrender. Your throat was dry, and when you finally found your voice, it came out hoarse, as if it had been scratched by the intensity of the moment.

“Crimson,” you whispered, almost breathless. The word came naturally, as if it were the only possible choice. Crimson, because everything around you seemed to be wrapped in red—the deep tone of Wanda’s magic, the heat that spread through you, the desire that burned in your veins.

The scent of sandalwood hung in the air, a constant reminder of her presence, of the invisible force that held you captive. Crimson, because you were in a spiral where your deepest reverie had a name and a color.

Wanda was silent for a moment, letting the word hang between you. Then, a slow smile spread across her lips, and you could feel her chest vibrate slightly as she murmured,

"Mmmm… poetic."

She pressed her lips against your jaw, sliding her mouth to the corner of your lips, never completing the kiss, just teasing. “When you say that word, everything stops. Do you understand, my girl?”

You nodded, breathless, but Wanda wasn’t satisfied with that.

“I need to hear you,” she said firmly, her fingertips tracing a slow, deliberate path down your hip. “Tell me you understand. Tell me you’ll use it if you need to.”

“I understand, Mommy,” you replied, your voice almost a moan, full of anticipation.

“Good girl,” Wanda purred, satisfied.

You both moaned as Wanda rubbed the tip of the strap-on against your hot, needy clit. “It’s going to be glorious, baby. And I’m going to feel everything… every inch of you.” The sound she makes is like a small growl—pressing her cock to your entrance, making you gasp in surprise.

“Wanda… this is…” You can barely speak, not when she’s thrusting inside you—the slow, slow pace only makes you want more.

“This, my dear. This is magic.”

And when Wanda pushes it all inside you, you can see a pulsing vein in her neck. The woman lets out a shaky breath.

“Oh…” She exasperates. “It’s so warm in here, my dear. You’re holding Mommy so well…” She groans through her teeth, as if she’s trying hard to contain herself.

Wanda has always hated the word. Magic. Witch. Sorceress. Monster. Those labels carried centuries of fear and contempt, making her existence a constant curse. She’d spent so long hating this part of herself, trying to control what couldn’t be contained, trying to fit into molds that were never meant for her.

But now?

Now, with you beneath her—vulnerable, surrendered, completely at the mercy of her hands and her will—it all felt different. She wasn’t a freak. She wasn’t a walking curse. She wasn’t a monster.

She was divine.

Every touch her body absorbed as if Wanda were imprinting her essence on you. Every breath she took seemed to feed the magic within her, an unceasing current of power that pulsed in the air around her. The way you responded to her—moaning her name like a prayer, offering yourself without reservation—made Wanda feel that, for the first time, her magic wasn’t a weapon, but a gift.

Blessed.

That word went through her like a lightning bolt. Wanda felt blessed. Not by the magic itself, but by the way she was using it now—to claim you, to fill you until you leaked her juices inside you. Her mark was on you, invisible to the world, but burning beneath your skin. And it made all the hatred she had once carried disappear.

“How are you feeling, my little doll?” Her tone is reverent, almost as if you were precious enough to deserve to be Wanda’s obsession, but not enough to not be broken by her. Never for that matter. “What does it feel like to have Mommy’s cock in your pretty girl pussy?”

“Mommy, I—” Your voice cracked as you felt Wanda move inside you, hitting a spot that was previously unknown. “OH. Mommy! Do that again! Please, pretty please.” You heard yourself say in a ridiculously needy voice.

“I love it when my little girl begs. You look so pretty. Fuck!”Wanda moans, thrusting her hips further, almost fusing her skin with yours. “Open your mouth.”

And you do, of course you do. All your mind can think about is pleasing the woman above you—as if it were your life’s purpose. When Wanda sees you with your little mouth open, she can't resist slapping your cheek—naturally red, she grabs your chin and pulls it towards her, making you arch your back off the mattress.

She lets a thick string of her own saliva slip out of her mouth, making you receive it. "Swallow it."

And you do, nodding, like the good girl of Wanda that you are. "Thank you, mommy."

And that seems to be the end of something for the woman, who speeds up her thrusts, bringing a loud moan to your lips. "So polite. Mommy's little slut takes her cock like a pro, doesn't she? I'm going to cum so hard inside you. You want mommy to get you pregnant, huh? Want mommy to put her sperm in your little belly?" The movements were frantic and sloppy, Wanda was close.

“YES, YES, YES! Get me pregnant, Mommy! Fill your stupid bitch with your cum, Mommy!” You screamed with the intensity of what you felt, your voice interrupted by moans that seemed to come from a place so deep that not even you knew existed.

Your body arched involuntarily, every muscle tensed as Wanda explored every inch of you as if it were rightfully hers. Your eyes shed tears of pure pleasure, running silently down your hot cheeks. It wasn’t pain — it was surrender. It was the unbearable weight of vulnerability, of the raw need to be possessed by someone who knew exactly what to do with every inch of you.

“Mine…” She seemed to savor the word with devotion. And when Wanda began to massage your clit with her thumb, it was over. “Cum for Mommy. Smear my cock with your smart little slut juices, I want all of you.” You didn’t answer her with words. There was no room for coherent thoughts, only the raw, urgent need that took over every cell in your body. Instead, a loud moan escaped your lips—a hoarse sound, full of pleasure and submission.

Your legs trembled involuntarily around Wanda, as your body sought more contact, more proximity, more of her.

Your hips moved on their own, seeking the rhythm that Wanda dictated, as if your entire body had surrendered to the silent melody that only she played. Your fingers grabbed the back of her neck, pulling her hair tightly as your nails scratched the delicate skin. Wanda let out a low growl in response, a sound that made your belly tighten even more, desire pulsing in every exposed nerve.

Then, as if you could no longer bear the distance between you, you arched your back, bringing your bodies closer until there was no more space between you. With an urgent movement, you pressed your mouth to hers, muffling the moan that threatened to escape. It was an uncontrolled, desperate kiss, full of need and hunger. There was nothing soft or delicate about that moment. It was rough. Wild.

Wanda kissed you back with the same intensity, her teeth scraping against your lips as her firm hands slid down, holding your waist with possessive strength. You felt her fingers leave marks that would surely remain on your skin for days—a reminder that you belonged to her.

When you finally broke apart to breathe, Wanda looked at you as if she wanted to devour every part of you. Her eyes glowed with the red light of her magic, but there was something else there: obsession, adoration, and an insatiable desire.

Wanda smiled almost predatorily, her eyes half-closed as she traced every curve of your face, as if she were recording that moment in her memory.

“Ah, my little princess…” she murmured, her lips brushing your ear again. “I don’t intend to stop with you. I’ll never let you go.”

And with that, her hands moved again, and you knew you were about to be taken even deeper into that addictive spiral of pleasure and possession.

[...]

The prom night was filled with smiles and animated voices. You were surrounded by your friends, all laughing and toasting with cups of soda and glasses of faux champagne. It was the end of an era—years of studying finally behind you.

"And who would've thought we'd survive to this point?" Yelena joked, raising her glass in an exaggerated toast. "To those who said we wouldn't make it."

Kate raised hers too. "And especially to Y/N, who, besides being the nerd of the group, held our hands through the process."

"She didn’t just hold our hands; she carried us on her back," Darcy corrected, pulling you into a tight hug.

Bucky, always a bit more reserved, gave a soft smile. "Whatever you decide to do from now on, Y/N, it's going to be spectacular. You know that, right?"

You smiled at them, your heart warmed by their support. But even surrounded by your friends, your eyes searched for someone else. Across the room, near the drink table, Wanda stood casually leaning against it, a glass in her hand.

She looked calm, but you knew her well enough to read past that—her gaze was fixed on you, as if you were the only person in the room. Every detail of her expression was loaded with an intensity that made your skin tingle.

"Y/N?" Kate nudged your shoulder, pulling you out of your trance.

"Oh, sorry," you said, laughing, trying to ignore the heat rising to your cheeks.

Meanwhile, Agatha appeared beside Wanda, observing the exchange with a smile only she could carry—mischievous and full of insinuations.

"You do realize you're giving it all away, don't you?" Agatha teased, casually picking up a glass of punch.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Wanda murmured, her eyes still locked on you. But her voice betrayed any attempt at denial; it was laden with emotion.

"Oh, please, dear." Agatha chuckled, swirling the glass theatrically. "You're practically shouting it for anyone who cares to notice. With that look? Even a blind person could tell you want to devour that girl."

Wanda rolled her eyes, a blush inevitably creeping up her cheeks, though she maintained her posture. "I'm just... observing."

"Sure, sure," Agatha retorted with a sly grin. "Observing from inches away, tracking her every move like a predator about to pounce. Is that 'just observing'? Because, to me, it looks like something else entirely..."

"Agatha," Wanda cut her off, a warning tone in her voice, though she couldn't completely hide the flicker of worry in her eyes.

"Fine, fine." Agatha raised her free hand in mock surrender, but the grin didn't fade. "You know me, I can't resist a good tease. But, on a different note, I saw what you sent me."

Wanda finally tore her gaze from you, turning to Agatha. Her tone grew more serious. "Did you manage to identify anything?"

Agatha took a sip of the punch, deliberately pausing before replying. "Not yet, but..." Her gaze shifted to you momentarily, studying with renewed interest. "The necklace belongs to her, doesn't it?" She tilted her head toward you.

"Yes." Wanda’s jaw tightened, her fingers gripping the wineglass. "How is that possible, Agatha? I've never seen that necklace before. Not in any of the lives I've shared with her. And that..." She paused, taking a deep breath. "That worries me."

Agatha narrowed her eyes, her expression turning serious for the first time. "You know what that means, don't you? If it's something even you don’t recognize, then it’s something... different. Perhaps something that doesn’t belong in your usual narrative."

"And that's exactly what scares me." Wanda's voice was low but firm, a dark determination threading her words. "The unknown can bring surprises. For ordinary people, maybe good ones. But for me? The unknown only brings risks. And I can't—won't—risk anything that involves her."

Agatha remained silent for a moment, studying Wanda carefully. Then she set her glass down on the nearby table and lightly touched Wanda's arm. "You'll figure it out. We will. But remember, Wanda: no matter how powerful you are, you can’t control everything. Not even when it comes to her."

"That’s not an option," Wanda replied, her eyes returning to you as if you were the only light in the darkness. "I need to protect her, Agatha. No matter what it takes."

"Be careful what you're willing to sacrifice," Agatha murmured, but her voice was drowned out by the laughter around you.

Wanda simply pressed her lips together, resuming her watchful gaze. The idea that something beyond her reach could affect you was intolerable. And if the necklace meant something greater, Wanda already knew: she would face whatever came. And she would win. Because losing you was not an option.

[...]

In a busy afternoon, boxes were scattered everywhere, and you barely had time to breathe as you tried to organize the chaos. Still, you couldn’t help but smile as you watched Wanda, who was clearly far more anxious than you.

She was everywhere at once—snapping her fingers discreetly to make boxes move on their own, floating small objects to their proper places, all with an energy that seemed ready to burst.

"Wanda," you called, trying to suppress a laugh as you watched her rearrange the same bookshelf for the third time. "You need to relax."

"I am relaxed," she replied hastily, adjusting a picture frame to the exact center of the nightstand.

"Of course, you are," you said, crossing your arms and watching as a lamp floated to the other side of the room.

She paused for a moment, hands on her hips, biting her lower lip as she looked around. Her gaze was pure nervousness, but there was something else—a glimmer of happiness that warmed the room.

"I just... want everything to be perfect," she admitted, her eyes finally meeting yours.

You approached her, holding her hands and pulling her gently closer. "It’s perfect because it’s with you. It doesn’t matter where we are, Wanda. As long as it’s with you, it’ll be enough."

Wanda sighed, relaxing a little, but the smile on her face still carried a touch of anxiety. "I just... thinking about you being here. Sleeping beside me every night. Here, with the boys, being a real part of my life..."

"Our life," you corrected softly, and she smiled more confidently.

Billy appeared at the bedroom door, giving you a cheerful grin. "You’ll make pancakes with smiley faces tomorrow, right? Because, you know, Mom tries, but... it’s not the same."

Wanda feigned indignation, but the joy in her eyes was undeniable.

"I think I can manage that," you replied, laughing.

When Billy disappeared, Wanda looked at you with a small but deeply emotional smile. "They love you, you know that, right?"

You nodded, pulling her into a hug. "And I love them. And I love you."

She held you tightly, her anxiety gradually melting into something calmer, more stable. You could feel her heartbeat against yours, and for a moment, everything in the world felt exactly as it should be.

After hours of unpacking boxes, you collapsed onto the couch, exhausted but restless. Something was missing—something important.

"I can’t find my necklace," you murmured, breaking the silence.

Wanda, who was finishing putting away kitchen utensils, looked at you. The tone in your voice immediately caught her attention. "The necklace? The one with the sun pendant?"

You nodded, running a hand over your bare neck. "Yes. Have you seen it? I’ve searched all the boxes and bags, but it’s... gone."

Wanda froze for a moment before disappearing from the room. When she returned, she was holding the necklace, the pendant softly glowing under the light.

“My sorceress-hero. My ‘sorhero!,’” you exclaimed with relief, running to wrap her in a tight embrace. Her touch was comforting, and for a brief moment, the world seemed right again.

Wanda, however, held the object a little more firmly than usual. She felt the strange magic emanating from the pendant—a signature she didn’t recognize, yet it pulsed unsettlingly. She knew she shouldn’t hand it over so quickly, but she also knew she needed to hear its story.

Reluctantly, she let you take it, watching closely as you held the necklace against your chest as if it were sacred.

“It’s a beautiful necklace,” Wanda remarked, studying your expression. “Is there a special story behind it?”

Your smile faltered for a moment, replaced by a shadow of sadness. You took a deep breath, holding the pendant delicately. “I… lost my parents when I was four,” you began, your voice low but steady. “It was a fire. Everything was gone that night... everything. I barely remember them, just flashes and the feeling of heat and smoke. The only thing that survived was this necklace.”

Wanda frowned slightly, absorbing your words. “And you don’t know how you survived the fire?”

You shook your head. “I have no idea. The firefighters said it was a miracle I made it because by the time they arrived, the house was nearly ashes. But… here I am. I like to think it’s some kind of charm. Something that carries a piece of my parents with me.”

Wanda nodded slowly, but the unease in her chest grew. The necklace wasn’t just a sentimental artifact—she was sure of that. She knew enough about magic to recognize when something was extraordinary, and that pendant radiated a peculiar energy, both protective and ominous.

“It’s a beautiful and tragic story,” Wanda said softly, trying to mask her concern. “But I understand why it’s so important to you.”

You smiled faintly, putting the necklace back around your neck. “Now that I have it with me, I feel like I can breathe again.”

Wanda held your hand for a moment, her touch firm but comforting. “And it always will be. I promise.”

As you relaxed on the couch again, distracted by plans for your first day at work, Wanda lingered for a moment. The guilt over what she was hiding began to weigh on her, but she knew she couldn’t ignore the implied threat of that pendant.

She had to uncover the truth—what the necklace truly meant, why it survived the fire, and, above all, what it said about you. And she would do whatever it took to protect you. Always.

[...]

The aroma of fresh coffee filled the kitchen, mingling with the familiar sound of toast popping out of the toaster and the morning chatter of the boys arguing over who would get to school faster. You sat at the table, hands wrapped around a mug of tea, trying to calm the anxiety twisting your stomach.

Wanda was beside you, slicing fruit with an apparent calm, but you noticed the quick glances she kept throwing your way, as if she were monitoring you closely.

“You’re going to be amazing,” Billy said suddenly, sliding a buttered piece of toast your way. “People are going to love you. I mean, we love you.”

“Exactly,” Tommy added, his mouth full of cereal. “And if they don’t, it’s because they have terrible taste.”

You smiled, their warm words easing your tension a little. “Thank you, boys. That means a lot.”

Wanda, however, wasn’t content with just words of encouragement. Setting the knife in the sink, she approached, leaning against the counter with her arms crossed as she looked at you with a mix of seriousness and tenderness.

“Listen here,” she began, her tone calm but carrying that firmness that made your spine straighten. “If anyone’s mean to you, if anything bothers you, you call me or text me. Got it?”

The protective yet slightly threatening tone made you raise an eyebrow, a sly smile creeping onto your lips. “You’re going to protect me, Avenger?”

“I am,” she replied without hesitation, her eyes sparking with a determination that made your heart race. “And not just because I can. It’s because you’re mine. And no one has the right to make you feel less than amazing.”

The boys exchanged knowing glances before Billy muttered, “Here comes Mama Bear...”

Wanda glanced at them, but the smile that slipped from her lips softened any attempt at reprimand.

You chuckled softly, standing and walking over to her, pressing a light kiss to her cheek. “Thank you, Wanda. Really. I needed to hear that.”

She held your hand for a moment, giving it a light squeeze. “You’ll always have someone in your corner. Me. Don’t forget that.”

The rest of breakfast passed in a lighter mood, and as you left the house for your first day of work, you couldn’t help but glance back, seeing Wanda and the boys waving from the door. No matter how nervous you felt, you knew that, come what may, you had a home filled with love and support waiting for you.

The sound of your footsteps echoed through the impeccably polished hallways as you followed Sharon, the school secretary, trying to keep your nerves in check. She spoke animatedly about how excited the staff was to meet you, but you barely heard her. The first-day jitters were mingling with a growing curiosity.

When you reached the office door, Sharon knocked twice before stepping inside, gesturing for you to follow. “Principal Hill, this is the new literature teacher, Ms. Y/n.”

Your heart seemed to stop for a moment at the mention of that name. Principal Hill? It couldn’t be that Hill… could it?

But when your eyes met the figure behind the dark wooden desk, any doubt you had was crushed. There she was: Maria Hill. The same impeccable posture, the piercing gaze that seemed to see into your soul, and the authoritative air you’d never forget.

"Welcome, Professor Y/n," Maria said, standing up and extending her hand. Her voice was serious, professional, but you knew well the weight behind it.

You tried to hide the tremor in your hand as you shook hers. "It’s a pleasure to be here, Principal Hill. Thank you for the opportunity."

The shock of finding Maria Hill there, as the principal of the school where you’d be working, still burned in your mind as Sharon made the introductions. You tried to maintain your composure, but the weight of high school memories was creeping into your thoughts like an unwelcome ghost.

Maria stood, her eyes briefly widening when they met yours. The surprise on her face was fleeting, quickly replaced by her usual mask of professionalism, but you noticed. You always noticed too much when it came to her.

"Welcome, Professor Y/n," she began, her voice still firm, but with a slight hesitation you recognized immediately.

"Principal Hill," you replied, with a smile that was a bit tighter than it should’ve been. The tension between you felt almost electric, but Sharon seemed oblivious, continuing with the introductions as if nothing were out of the ordinary.

When Sharon finished speaking, Maria tilted her head, her gaze fixed on yours as if trying to decipher something. Finally, she broke the silence. "I see you’ve grown well," she said, her tone casual but with a hint of something you couldn’t quite define.

Those words hit you like a punch. Grown well? Was that all she had to say after years of cruelty, judgmental glances, and harsh words whispered in crowded hallways?

You lifted your chin, refusing to show any weakness. "That’s what they say, right? Time works wonders," you replied, keeping your voice steady, even though something inside you was churning.

Her lips curved slightly into something that wasn’t quite a smile. Maybe it was discomfort, maybe regret. You weren’t sure. "I hope your experience here will be productive. The school has high standards, but I’m confident you’ll meet them."

"Thank you, Principal Hill," you replied with a respectful nod, though not without a touch of irony.

As Sharon guided you out of the office, you could feel Maria’s eyes still on you. That old feeling of being under her microscope returned, but this time, you weren’t the awkward, insecure teenager. Now, you were a confident adult with a purpose.

And, while you didn’t yet know what the future held, you were sure of one thing: Maria Hill wouldn’t be able to tear you down again.

Your first day as a Literature teacher began with a mix of excitement and nerves. You’d spent the night reviewing your lesson plan, tweaking every detail, but nothing could’ve prepared you for the moment you stepped into the classroom and found twenty-five young faces staring at you with curiosity—and in some cases, boredom.

"Good morning, class," you began, smiling nervously. "I’m Professor Y/N, and this is my first day here, just like yours. I hope we can discover together what makes Literature so fascinating."

There were a few murmurs in the room, but one hand shot up almost immediately.

"If it’s so fascinating, why do they force us to learn it?" Peter Parker asked, a mischievous smile playing on his lips.

A few chuckles echoed through the room, and you realized you needed to act quickly to win their attention.

"Great question, Peter," you replied, looking directly at him, which made the boy blush slightly. "But I’d say Literature isn’t about forcing anyone to do anything. It’s about understanding stories—and everyone loves a good story, right?"

"That depends," America Chavez commented from the back of the room, her arms crossed, a defiant air about her.

"Depends on what?" you asked, approaching her desk with a smile.

"If the story’s good enough to be worth the time," she replied, raising an eyebrow.

"Then I’ll make you a deal," you said, looking at the entire class. "If by the end of this semester you don’t find at least one story that moves you, one that makes you feel something, then I’ve failed as a teacher."

A buzz spread through the room. You sensed that some students were intrigued, while others seemed to have already decided it would be impossible.

"And where do we start?" Kamala Khan asked excitedly, leaning forward on her desk.

"We start with the classics," you said, holding up a copy of The Great Gatsby. "And along the way, we’ll discover how the stories we read reflect who we are—and who we want to be."

Reactions were mixed. Peter let out an audible sigh, while America rolled her eyes. But Kamala was smiling, clearly excited, and you realized you’d at least found one ally in the room.

The class was going relatively well. You managed to keep most students’ attention while discussing the nuances of the characters in The Great Gatsby. Well, almost everyone. America Chavez was leaning back in her chair, her expression a mix of skepticism and impatience.

"So," you began, turning to the board as you wrote some reflective questions. "What’s your opinion on Daisy Buchanan? Do you think she really loved Gatsby?"

Silence hung for a few seconds before America’s firm, slightly disdainful voice broke it:

"She’s the worst girlfriend in Literature. Like, terrible."

The class burst into laughter, and even you had to suppress a smile before turning to her.

"Interesting perspective, America," you replied, trying not to laugh. "Care to elaborate?"

America straightened in her chair, clearly ready to make her case. "First of all, she’s all swooning over Gatsby, but when he shows up, all she does is make drama. And the worst part? At the end, she basically lets the guy take the fall alone! Who does that?"

"Classic betrayal," Peter murmured to Ned, who nodded seriously.

"And don’t even get me started on her driving," America continued, now gesturing animatedly. "If I were Gatsby, I would’ve run the other way the first time she got behind the wheel."

"Hey, hold on," Kamala interjected, frowning. "Don’t you think she was just trapped in a system that gave her no choices? Like, she’s as much a victim as Gatsby, in a way."

"Victim? Gatsby’s the victim," America shot back. "She had choices. She just made all the worst ones. And seriously, who gets that obsessed with nice shirts?"

More laughter filled the room, and you finally couldn’t hold back and laughed as well.

"Okay, okay," you said, raising your hands to calm the growing chaos. "So, we have an interesting point here. America thinks Daisy is the worst girlfriend in Literature, while Kamala believes she’s a victim of circumstances."

"It’s deeper than that," Peter chimed in, raising his hand. "Daisy represents the limits of the American Dream. She’s just another piece of the broken machine."

"Ah, right, philosopher," America replied, rolling her eyes. "She's just a terrible girlfriend, period."

"Maybe we should make a list of the worst girlfriends in literature to compare," you suggested, unable to resist.

"List? Easy," America said with a grin. "Daisy is number one. Then, I don't know... Lady Macbeth? She made her husband commit murder, so that's worse, right?"

"And would that be a literature assignment or couples therapy?" you joked, making the students laugh even more.

In the end, you managed to regain control of the class, but the discussion about the "worst girlfriends in literature" became an inside joke among the students. America seemed proud to have sparked the debate, while Peter and Kamala continued arguing in the hallways after class.

As for you? Well, you knew this was the kind of class everyone would remember—including you.

You came home after work, exhausted but eager to see the boys and Wanda. Opening the door, you were greeted by Tommy, who dashed down the hallway shouting something about beating Billy in a game.

"Hello to you too," you said with a laugh, closing the door behind you.

The babysitter, a young woman with gentle features and her hair tied up in a messy bun, appeared shortly after, holding a sketchpad that had apparently served as a battleground between the brothers.

"Hi, Y/N," she greeted warmly. "The boys were excited to see you. Wanda hasn’t arrived yet."

You nodded, dropping your bag on the couch. "Thanks, Emma. I’ll wait with them."

The boys settled on the living room floor, debating which episode of Teen Titans to watch, while you and Emma sat on the couch. After a few minutes of casual conversation about the boys and their antics, the topic turned more personal.

"It’s funny," Emma said, fidgeting with the sleeve of her sweater and smiling thoughtfully. "I started working as a nanny just to leave home early. It was the only thing that gave me some independence. Now, I love what I do. Being around kids... It’s therapeutic."

"I can imagine," you replied, leaning forward slightly, curiosity dancing in your eyes. "But what made you leave home so early? You seem so comfortable with what you do that I’d never have guessed."

Emma hesitated, glancing down at her hands, now nervously fiddling with the hem of her sweater. "My mom..." she began, her voice faltering before hardening with a hint of bitterness. "When she found out I liked girls, everything changed. She wasn’t my mom anymore. It was like living with a stranger who hated everything about me. Every move I made felt wrong. It wasn’t a home, you know? It was a battlefield."

Your heart ached at her words, the pain resonating deeply. "I understand," you said softly, your voice almost breaking. "In the orphanage... Being different was a sentence too. It didn’t matter what it was—too quiet, too curious, too anything—you became a target. Pain can harden you, but somehow, it also gave me strength."

Emma looked up at you, her eyes glistening with tears. "It’s good to hear that from someone who really understands," she said, her voice trembling. "Because sometimes, it feels like I’ll carry this pain forever."

Without hesitation, you reached out, covering her hand with yours—a firm but gentle touch that offered warmth and comfort. "No one should carry that alone, Emma," you said, meeting her gaze directly. "And you know what’s even more incredible? That strength you have... It’s yours alone. No one—not even the past—can take that away from you."

The first tears fell from her eyes, and almost instinctively, you raised a hand to gently wipe them away. The gesture was simple but profoundly caring. "You’re not alone," you whispered, smiling tenderly.

Emma let out a soft laugh amidst her tears, wiping her own eyes shortly after. "Thank you, Y/N. I don’t know why I’m falling apart like this, but... thank you."

"Sometimes falling apart is what we need," you replied with a knowing smile. "And sometimes, a juice or coffee helps hold things together."

Emma laughed again, shaking her head. "You’re good at this."

"Let’s just say it’s my specialty," you replied, winking as the boys shouted from the kitchen, complaining about something to do with pancakes and chocolate syrup.

"I hope I’m not interrupting."

Wanda’s voice cut through the moment like a blade, carrying a tone that was almost casual, yet laced with an undertone you couldn’t ignore. You turned quickly, finding her standing in the doorway, her bag slung over one shoulder, her eyes fixed on your hand still resting over Emma’s.

"Hey, you’re home," you said, trying to sound more composed than you felt as you instinctively pulled your hand away.

Wanda stepped into the room, her movements precise and controlled. She set her bag on the table with a smile that felt deliberate, but not quite warm. "I hope the boys weren’t too much trouble, Emma."

Emma, visibly flustered, quickly stood, adjusting the strap of her bag over her shoulder. "Not at all. They were great, as always. Well, I should get going. Goodnight, Wanda. Goodnight, Y/N."

"Goodnight, Emma," you replied, watching her leave before turning back to Wanda, who remained standing with her arms crossed, an expression that hovered between curiosity and something sharper.

"She seems... nice," Wanda remarked, her voice overly casual.

"She is," you said, moving toward her, trying to ease the tension that thickened the air. "And she’s been through a lot. I was just trying to comfort her."

Wanda raised an eyebrow, her eyes assessing you as her expression softened slightly. "You have a knack for attracting broken hearts, you know that?"

"It’s because I’m irresistible," you teased, flashing a playful smile to lighten the mood.

Wanda sighed, but the corner of her mouth lifted in a faint smile. "You are. But you’re mine."

You arched an eyebrow, feigning indignation at her clear display of possessiveness. "No need to be jealous, my love. I have a thing for older women, redheads, super bossy, and ridiculously powerful."

A genuine smile finally broke across her face as you leaned in to gently kiss her shoulder. "Bargaining, are we?" Wanda murmured, her arm sliding around you to pull you closer.

"Just reminding you that your place in my heart is unbeatable," you quipped, resting your forehead against hers.

"Nice try," Wanda replied, but the soft chuckle that escaped her told you you’d won this round.

You laughed, feeling the tension dissolve as she tugged you along by the hand. Even if jealousy had flared, you knew that your place beside Wanda—in her life, in her heart—was uniquely yours.

The twins were eager, as always, when you sat on the rug, surrounded by the soft cushions scattered across the living room floor. The gentle glow of the lamp made the room feel even cozier. Billy was already seated, his eyes attentive, while Tommy, pretending disinterest, tossed a pillow into the corner but was clearly ready to listen.

"Today, I’m going to tell you a special story," you began, adjusting yourself on the rug and looking at the two. "It’s an ancient Greek legend about two souls that never stopped finding each other, no matter what happened."

Billy’s eyes widened, already immersed in the promise of the tale. "Is it about love? Like, soulmates?"

You smiled, appreciating the innocence of his question. "Exactly. It’s about Orpheus and Eurydice."

Tommy, who had been slouching to the side, sat up a little straighter, still trying to seem indifferent. "This is going to be tragic, isn’t it?"

"Maybe," you replied, winking at him. "But it’s also going to be beautiful."

Wanda, who you knew was in the kitchen tinkering with something, seemed far too quiet. There was that familiar energy in the air, as if she were listening to every word.

"Orpheus was such a talented musician that even the gods stopped to listen when he played his lyre," you began, your voice imbued with the emotion of the story. "And Eurydice was the nymph he loved more than anything. They were inseparable… until something terrible happened."

The narration unfolded, and you described the snake bite, Eurydice’s death, and Orpheus’s journey to the underworld. Billy was practically holding his breath, while Tommy, now completely engrossed, leaned forward.

"Did he save her?" Billy asked, the anxiety clear in his voice.

"Almost," you replied, pausing dramatically, letting the air in the room hold the weight of the moment. "But at the last second, he doubted.

He turned to look at her before they were completely out of the underworld. And because of that, he lost her forever. Eurydice was pulled back, and Orpheus was left alone, with only his music and the memory of the love they had shared."

Tommy, abandoning his posture of disinterest, sighed. "That’s so sad."

"It is sad," you admitted, leaning slightly toward them, "but it’s also beautiful. Because even after death, even after everything, they say their souls kept finding each other. In every life, in every form. Like birds flying together or stars shining side by side in the sky. They never stopped loving each other."

At that moment, you felt a gaze on you. Lifting your eyes, you found Wanda standing in the doorway. She held a mug of tea, but it was clear she had forgotten about it. Her eyes were fixed on you, and there was something deep in them—a intensity that made your heart race.

"That’s the most powerful part of the story," Wanda said, her voice low but filled with meaning. "No matter how many times they’re lost, they always find their way back to each other."

The twins looked at her and then at you, as if sensing something in the air they couldn’t quite understand.

"What happens if they don’t find each other in one life?" Tommy asked, breaking the silence.

"Then it’s just a matter of time," Wanda answered before you could open your mouth. "Because some souls are destined to find each other, no matter how long it takes."

Billy smiled, satisfied. "This is my favorite story so far."

"Mine too," you murmured, but your eyes remained locked on Wanda’s. The connection between you felt almost tangible, like an invisible thread vibrating in the air.

Wanda smiled softly, that smile that said everything without needing words. She knew. And so did you.

Fate is a tireless dancer, its steps entwined with luck and will, with desire and chance. It carries us along paths we don’t choose, but that somehow always seem to find us. Uncertainty is its greatest charm and its greatest torment—the not knowing, the almost, the maybe.

In every life, in every beginning, we are pawns on the infinite board of time, guided by invisible hands whispering promises we don’t know if they’ll keep. And yet, we leap forward, trusting that, at some point, the scattered lines will converge.

There’s a cruel beauty in uncertainty. It’s what makes the heart race at the possibility, what gives a meeting a bittersweet flavor, tempered by doubt. It’s what turns a moment into eternity because the next moment is unknown, as fragile as a thread in the wind.

When Wanda said those words—"It’s just a matter of time"—something stirred inside you, like a buried truth, a certainty you didn’t know you carried. It was the faith that even in the roughest seas, even in the driest deserts, there’s something that always calls us back. An invisible magnet, a song only two souls can hear.

And if they don’t meet in one life? Then, perhaps, it will be in the next. Or the one after that. Because some connections transcend what is tangible, defy logic, ignore probabilities. They are the stars that always end up forming constellations, the rivers that, sooner or later, find the sea.

You looked at the twins, their eyes shining with the innocence only youth can offer. And then at Wanda, whose eyes said so much with so little. In that moment, there was no uncertainty. Only the certainty of now—her gaze, the invisible thread that bound you, and the promise that, no matter how uncertain fate may be, it always brings the right souls back to each other.

Even if it takes time. Even if it hurts. Even if the dance between you feels endless.

~*~

You are free to create theories from now on. Whoever comes closest may receive a prize hehehe

Tag list <3

@vyvvycg @rosekjsses @3liyuh @trindad2k

@indentity0018 @beggingonmykneesforher

@idkwhatever580

@reginassecretlover @trying-to-do-good

@imjustvibingsworld @mbxoxo @jazzyxqzl @eternallyconfuzed @ctrlaltedits @sheriffhaughtearp

@lesbiansweet @i-luv-w1men @htinha157 @syssmin @wandasslut3000 @fuzzygiantlamphorse @imaginaryblogger01

[swiftdove]

bleeding crimson

pairing: rio vidal x agatha harkness x fem!reader

summary: no matter how much you try to run from the truth, the road leads you back onto the path, forcing you to confront the thorns from your past.

content: angst, tension, knife-play, dark actions, slight smut

a/n: this is my first time ever writing a part 2 i feel like this is a very monumental moment for me

part 2 to collateral damage

Later that night, you had found yourself leaning against the trunk of the tree, willing yourself to sleep. Yet, despite your best efforts, the earlier conversations seeped into your mind, forcing out any rational thought. 

It wasn't right, how easily they managed to pull you back under their spell. They knew exactly which buttons to push to get what they wanted, whilst your skills had rusted over time. The way they treated you; it was as though they'd never left. It was almost comical, how little they'd suffered over their abandonment of you, how they expected everything to be the same as it was. You knew they were wicked, downright evil, but you hadn't expected them to be this selfish. Your sympathy for them was fading, as was your will to fight against their seductive charm. There must've been something grievously wrong about you to have even looked their way. Perhaps it was the mutual damage, the way you all understood each other so perfectly. Perhaps it was that that let you excuse their past actions. The idea that maybe, just maybe, you could fix them.

You had snapped right out of that attitude when you had seen Agatha act so apathetically about Sharon's death. It may have been the one thing that could have finally let you move past her. But earlier today, when she had tried so desperately to save Teen, redeemed her. You hated that about her - the way she flickered from evil to morally gray. 

And Rio, who balanced out Agatha's wickedness. You felt it, how her eyes always lingered on you. But never for longer than she did with Agatha. 

The reasons against them were stacked, and yet there was still that one part of you that wondered about what a reconciled relationship with them would entail. Most likely more damage to your already fragile mind. Then again, you'd always found that pain turned you on.

The sound of footsteps jolted you out of your train of thought, immediately waking you up from your half-asleep state. 

"Who's there?" you called, failing to mask the fear in your voice.

"Your worst nightmare," a demonic voice resounded, which you instantly recognized to be one of Rio's attempts to humour you.

The witch came into sight, accompanied by the last person you wanted to see right now.

Despite your pronounced hate for them, you couldn't deny that they looked perfect - especially under the glow of the moonlight. 

"What are you doing here?" you murmured, smoothing out a wrinkle in your blouse. 

"Couldn't sleep," Rio replied truthfully, eyeing you up and down. Her gaze finally rested on your hands, where you were nervously playing with your index ring, a habit you'd picked up years ago when she'd first bought it for you. 

However, your attention was directed at Agatha, who had adopted a villainous smirk. Something had changed in her tonight; behind her icy blue eyes hid macabre intentions. It was almost comedic how you still felt like you knew every serrated, damaged inch of her soul. Old habits died hard, you supposed.

"What is it, Agatha?" you asked, failing to hide the tremble in your voice. 

"Oh, nothing," she replied, her tone lilted, "it's just ironic, I suppose. All that 'I'm not yours' bullshit and defiant attitude..."

You tensed as she neared you, noticing the way her eyes glinted at your recoiled stance. In a split second, her fingers wrapped around your throat, trapping you in a chokehold.

"... when we both know why you came."

Her grip tightened, her veins becoming more defined as your breathing shallowed.

"Agatha," Rio admonished, prompting her to relax her grip. 

A soft cackle rang through the air as Agatha stroked your cheek with her free hand, reveling in the way you trembled under her touch.

Flashbacks of the life you'd had with them echoed in your mind, memories of your past encounters hammering at the walls of your skull. It was always the same. Agatha, skillfully inflicting the sweetest torture imaginable on your body, whilst Rio sat back and watched. The mocking, saccharine tone Agatha adopted whilst Rio carved their names into your flesh. The way they forced you past your limits, the long, euphoric nights. 

"So helpless," she jested, dragging out her words. "Now, where have I seen that before?"

Your reply was barely audible, interrupted by a hitch in your breath. "Stop."

Ignoring your plea for mercy, she pulled up your sleeve, releasing her grip on your throat. The faint outline of the words 'RIO' and 'AGATHA' were only just visible, having faded after decades of neglect. Agatha swiveled around, jerking your arm out for Rio to see.

"Would you look at that?" Rio marveled. She tutted softly, before brandishing her dagger. A sadistic smile tugged at her lips as she held it to your throat. You flinched away from the cold metal, beads of red decorating the blade. Your attempts to run away from the dagger were foiled when she swiveled you around and secured you waist with her free hand, the other keeping you in place.

"You were so jealous of Rio earlier, weren't you, pet?" Agatha taunted, relishing in the way your eyes narrowed at the use of her pet name. "You wanted me to leave a scar, didn't you?"

If you hadn't had a blade pressed against your throat, you would have called her out for twisting your words. But, in this instance, you couldn't help but shrink back from their towering presences.

Snorting at your silence, she continued with her onslaught of cruel jokes. "Why so silent? Cat got your tongue?"

"There's a blade to my throat, if you haven't noticed," you snapped, causing Rio to add pressure to your skin.

"There's that nasty attitude again," Agatha proclaimed gleefully, circling around you. "How long has it been since you've been properly punished, sweets?"

You recoiled at her use of the word 'punished', your gaze steeling. "Stop," you murmured, failing to mask the quiver in your voice. "I'm not going to indulge in your sick revenge fantasy."

"Aren't you?"

Rio's voice cut through the tension in the air like a knife through butter, her fingernails digging into the side of your waist. Agatha smirked maliciously, tilting your chin up with her calloused fingers. 

"I don't think you have much of a choice, pet."

Satisfied with your silence as a response, she trailed her fingers down to your blouse, roughly unbuttoning it. She pinched at the peak of your breast, relishing in how it hardened at her touch.

"So sensitive," Agatha murmured, twisting it sharply. A small yelp escaped your lips, reprimanded by a sharp cut to the throat. Hot blood trickled down the wound, staining the witch's fingers.

"Agatha -" you gasped, only to be cut off by the sound of Lilia's voice echoing down The Road.

"They're coming. We have to go."

Glancing at the direction of the voice, Agatha withdrew her hand, causing you to sigh in relief. The sound didn't go unnoticed by the witches. Visibly annoyed, Agatha grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look at her.

"This isn't over," she threatened, before dramatically whisking her cape and walking away. Rio followed, but not before dragging her dagger over your throat again. When you didn't budge, she looked over her shoulder, glancing at you expectantly.

"Come on," she said, taking ahold of your arm. "We have to go."

As you trailed behind the witches, the warm, crimson blood trickled down the small wound in your throat, bleeding into the collar of your shirt. To anybody else, it would've just seemed like a simple cut, but you knew what it truly was. A symbol, of their claim over you. Hard, cold proof that no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't escape their hold over you. And for some strange, demented reason, you found comfort in knowing that. 

The dynamic between you and them remained ever the same. Agatha and Rio, your sacred protectors, and you, a wolf in the clothing of a sacrificial lamb. And despite your pathetic attempts to hide it, you knew that they understood exactly who you were to the very marrow of your bones. 

That was what scared you about them.

[rezwrites]

Hey, can you write something for Agatha Harkness? I love her. Yandere/Dark! Agatha Harkness x reader, reader is summoned to be part of Agatha's coven and Agatha grows obsessed with reader after becoming her friend and feeling a connection. Thank you 🩷

Of course, also I’m very sorry that this took so long!

a/n: slight au where the road is real/Rio has no presence.

Agatha and Teen had approached you asking for your assistance in walking The Road. Laughing in their face at the absurdity, “The Road is a myth.”

Even if it wasn’t, it was a death trap. Many stories from your mother and her coven about The Road have passed your ears. Every witch, with the exemption of Agatha Harkness, lost their lives trying the reach the end. You’ve felt inadequate as a witch, unable to resonate with a coven of your own. Even though you’d love to have that sister and companionships you’ve done well enough without them.

Teen droned on as you walked away from them. Only stopping in your tracks when Agatha chimed in talking about forming her own coven. A lesson drilled into your brain since the day you were born resounded within: Agatha Harkness is not to be trusted. Turning around you regarded them both, warily. Awkwardly handing you a card Teen expressed that he’d hope to see you there.

Contemplation weighed heavy on your mind the rest of the day. The possibility of finding a coven was tantalizingly, but you’d have to suffer through the proximity of Agatha and the other witches she convened. Deciding the end outweighs everything else you make your way to Agatha’s house in Westview.

Agatha kept a close focus on you the moment you made your presence known in her home. Her eye constantly shifting to you as you sung your part of The Ballad. You’re voice is beautiful she thought, like a bird singing its morning song.

After pairing with Agatha in the first trial you notice Agatha gradually getting close to you. Thankful that you had her as an anchor in your hallucination, you doing that same for her. Taking the opportunities to know more about you, realizing she’s slow to open up about herself. Rightfully so, since much of the air is still tense with distrust around her. She seemed genuine when she asked about you, making small gestures to be sure your safe- keeping you close to her, guiding your steps so you don’t trip. Her hands softly brushing over you from time to time.

After losing Alice, your distrust cemented again. Insisting that she couldn’t control it, you strayed away from her. Agatha lets you go, not without keeping close eye on you. Watching you gravitate towards Lilia, Agatha internally seethes.

Lilia’s words of wisdom and talks about her travels brought you solace. It was a devastating experience to see Lilia close the Iron Maiden, locking herself in the trial room. Screaming her name, pounding on the door the tears rushed down your face. Agatha had to drag you away and calm you down, Teen staying behind to comfort Jen.

“Lilia, no. How could she?” You could help but sob at the loss of her. Falling to your knees, your face in your hands.

“There’s nothing we could’ve done.” Agatha rests her hand in your shoulder, lightly squeezing it. Wiping your tears, you stood up brushing yourself off.

“Stay with me. I want- no need you by my side.” Agatha’s voice firmed, “You need someone to take care of you.”

“No I don’t. You think I’m weak don’t you?” Your face twists in irritation.

“That’s not what I’m saying.” Her fists clenching and unclenching.

“Then what exactly are you saying, Agatha?” You exasperated, throwing your hands up.

“In certain situations I can protect you. That’s all I want to do, darling.” She reached out to you, retracting her hands when you stepped away.

“I can protect myself. We’re almost at the end.” You walk back to gather Jen and teen, leaving Agatha alone.

Slipping into your shoes everything goes black until slit of light appears, revealing Agatha pulling you out of a body bag, “It’s alright dear. It’s just the last trial.” Observing Jen unbind herself and Teen find a body for his brother, your hope shrunk as they disappeared from the trial room.

You remained silent as Agatha grieved, planting something in the ground. You rested beside her as she cried, rubbing circles on her back. Humming a small tune you watched the lights go out by the second; attempting to make peace that this might be the end.

Agatha’s gasp caused you to look down where you saw a dandelion growing from the soil. As the ceiling started crashing down Agatha pulled you up from the floor, guiding you to the door. Coming out of the trial room you both find yourselves in Agatha’s backyard, Teen and Jen waiting for you both. Teen offered Agatha some of his power only is she doesn’t take all of it.

Watching Jen and Teen leave, you stared in thought. The Road was a waste. You didn’t find your coven, the one that Agatha conjured up dropped like flies. Back to square one with a heavy heart in your chest. A soft grip on your wrist pulled you out your bleak thoughts, but you didn’t face her.

“You think The Road didn’t give you what you needed, but it did. You’re just too stubborn to see it. The companionship you crave so much, you don’t a coven… you just need me.” Agatha’s pupils turned purple as your mind grew hazy, struggling for clarity.

“Shh…don’t fight it, darling. I’ve got you.” Agatha’s honeyed voice rang through vividly. Holding you tight against her chest, Agatha pressed her fingers closer to your temple, “I failed to protect someone once, I won’t let the same happen to you.”

[w4ndal0ver]

teacher's pet (professor!agatha x student!reader)

W4NDALOVER'S KINKMAS | 2024

dec 6: teachers pet (professor!agatha x student!reader)

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆

KINKMAS MASTERLIST | 2024

summary: Professor Harkness has always wanted you, but when you don't give into her advances she decides to use an enchanted quill in order to sway you in her direction.

warnings: 18+, SMUT MDNI, dubcon, enchanted quill, strap-on, begging, choking, mommy kink (used cautiously), slight breeding kink, kind of edging if you squint hard enough

teachers pet.

Agatha sat at her desk, a carefully measured distance between herself and the papers that lay before her. She had long since learned to enjoy the quiet moments alone in her office, the brief respite between the chaos of the outside world and the controlled environment she had created here. It was a sanctuary, a place where she could indulge in her thoughts. Thoughts of you.

She’d noticed you from the very first day you stepped into her office and over time, the quiet ache of her desire had only grown. Your eagerness, the way you were always the first to arrive at class, sitting at the front with a notebook in hand, always eager to ask questions, always searching for her approval. You were the perfect student, disciplined, careful - but there was something in the way you looked at her, something that went past mere respect.

She watched as you entered her office, just as you always did - tentative, but eager. Your hand, delicately rested against the doorframe for a moment before you stepped inside, a slight hesitation hanging in the air. Your gaze flickered toward her before quickly looking down at the floor, and Agatha’s lips curled into the smallest of smiles. 

You were still shy, still so innocent, but there was something undeniably captivating about you. The way you moved, so aware of your body, and yet, you couldn’t help but draw attention to yourself. The tightness of your skirts that gripped so perfectly to your ass, and she couldn’t deny that she’d caught a glimpse of you more and more. Your carefully chosen attire, always polished and proper, but undeniably teasing. 

“Professor, you wanted to discuss my project?” You say, your voice soft, a little hesitant, as though you weren’t entirely sure how to be in her presence. Agatha had heard that tone before. It was the sound of someone trying too hard to act professional, to hold onto some semblance of control, when in reality, they were anything but composed. 

She tilted her head, letting her eyes linger on you a moment longer than necessary, taking in the way your fingers nervously played with the hem of your skirt, how your lips pressed together just a little too slightly. 

“Of course, come in darling.” Agatha responded, her voice smooth. She gestured for you to sit, and as you settled into the chair across from her, she couldn’t help but notice how you shifted slightly, tugging your skirt down as though it might betray you. She bit back a laugh and how you were so unaware of how you made her feel.

Your hands rested on your lap, fingers curled slightly, the faint tremble just noticeable enough for Agatha to catch it. She knew what you were trying to do, trying to appear professional, trying to act as if this meeting was no different from any other. But she had seen you enough times to know the difference between what you showed and what you truly felt. The way your gaze lingered on her when you thought she wasn’t looking, the slight quiver of your lip when you asked a question that was a little too personal, a little too loaded.

Her gaze drifted to your face, watching as you shifted again, glancing down at your notes, a lock of hair falling across your forehead. Agatha could feel the pull between you both, an invisible thread that kept drawing her attention to you, to the way your lips parted slightly when you spoke, as though you were unsure of the words coming out, unsure of yourself.

“Everything seems to be progressing well with your project,” Agatha said, her voice smooth, but her mind already elsewhere. The light in your eyes, the way your shoulders were just a bit too stiff for someone so young, so open. You wanted something more. She was sure of it. You didn’t have to say it, Agatha could see it in every small gesture, every fleeting glance.

You were so careful, always so careful, never pushing beyond the boundary you had drawn around yourself. But Agatha knew, in her quietest moments, that you wanted to. She had seen it in the way you looked at her when you thought she wasn’t paying attention, the way your eyes lingered on her just a fraction longer than was appropriate. 

Her eyes fell to the desk, where the enchanted quill sat waiting. It had been in her possession for years, a relic of a past she tried to leave behind, and yet it called to her now, with an intensity she couldn’t ignore. With just a flick of her fingers, she could make this moment more than what it was, more than just a professor and her student. She could make you feel things, things that neither of you had ever allowed yourselves to feel before.

Agatha’s fingers brushed the edge of the quill, her gaze flickering over to you again. You were so beautiful in your innocence, so unaware of the depth of your own desire. But tonight, that would change.

“You’ll need to sign this for me,” Agatha said, breaking the silence, her voice suddenly sharper, more purposeful. She reached for the parchment, her fingers brushing against the edge of the quill as she pushed the document toward you. Your eyes followed her every movement, and she couldn’t miss the way you shifted in your seat, your chest rising and falling just a little faster than before.

You reached for the quill, your fingers brushing against the smooth, cool surface. Agatha’s heart skipped a beat. There it was. The magic would begin, slowly at first, unnoticed. But it would build, and when it did, you would have no choice but to acknowledge what you both had been avoiding for far too long.

The moment your fingers brushed the enchanted quill, a shift occurred in the room—subtle, almost imperceptible, but unmistakable. Agatha’s pulse quickened, her gaze locked on you with a quiet intensity as you signed your name on the parchment, the ink swirling a little too smoothly beneath your hand. She watched, savoring the way your shoulders tensed, the slight shift in your posture, as if something deep inside of you had stirred to life.

You didn’t know it yet, of course, but Agatha could already feel the subtle change in the air. The magic was working its way through your system, slow and steady, like a gentle tide pulling you under. You were still unaware, still looking down at the paper with a furrowed brow, your expression unreadable. But Agatha saw the smallest signs, the flush creeping up your neck, the way your breath seemed to catch in your throat.

“I also wanted to ask you about this part of your essay. It's a really interesting take.” Agatha says, wanting to confuse you even more as your head becomes fuzzy with the lust enchantment, knowing that the more you think about what to say, the more sensitive and desperate you’d become. 

You placed the quill back on the desk, the delicate tip still glimmering in the dim light of the office. Agatha leaned back in her chair, her fingers tapping the edge of her pen, watching you closely. She could hear the soft rustle of your skirt as you shifted in the chair, the sound of your breath growing just a touch heavier with each passing moment. It was subtle, but it was there. The tension. The pull.

“You seem restless,” Agatha said, her voice low, almost a purr. She watched as your eyes flickered toward her, a brief hesitation before you met her gaze. The flush on your cheeks had deepened now, and Agatha couldn’t help but revel in the shift she had caused. She had always been so good at reading people, at sensing the smallest changes, and now she could see the effects of her subtle manipulation working its way through you.

You shifted again, this time more noticeable, a shift of your legs that made your skirt rise slightly, just enough for Agatha to catch a glimpse of the delicate skin beneath. She bit her lip, but only for a moment, as she kept her focus entirely on you. The way you crossed and uncrossed your legs, the way your fingers fidgeted with the edge of your sleeve, each motion a sign of the growing discomfort building within you. You weren’t just restless anymore; you were beginning to feel the weight of something unspoken, something you couldn’t quite name.

"Is everything alright?" Agatha asked, her voice soft, but her eyes sharp, taking in every little detail. She could see the way your eyes darted to her lips for the briefest of moments before you quickly looked away. The way you swallowed, throat bobbing, as though trying to push down something you didn’t know how to acknowledge.

"I - I think so," you murmured, but your voice was different now. The words came slower, as though you were struggling to keep your thoughts in order. Agatha saw it. The way your hands gripped the edge of your chair a little too tightly, the way your legs shifted restlessly beneath the table. There was no denying it now, the magic was working.

She leaned forward, just enough for her presence to feel closer, more palpable. She could see your chest rise and fall more quickly, your pupils dilating ever so slightly as she made the smallest movement, as though testing the waters.

"Are you sure?" Agatha's question hung in the air, almost teasing, but never fully pushing. She wanted to see just how far you would go, how much you would reveal before you could no longer control it. She had always watched you, watched you closely. She knew you were waiting for something, something that only she could give you.

You shifted again, a slight tremor in your hand as you placed it on the table, as if trying to steady yourself, but it only betrayed you. Agatha saw the way your fingers twitched, the way your eyes refused to meet hers, no matter how hard you tried to regain some semblance of control. You couldn’t hide it.

The air between you both was thick now, taut with something neither of you could name, but both of you could feel. The silence stretched for a moment before Agatha broke it with a soft, knowing smile.

"You don’t have to pretend with me," she said, the words laced with an almost untraceable sweetness. She could see the way your breath caught at the sound of her voice, the way your eyes flickered to her lips again, only this time, you didn’t look away.

You were slipping, Agatha realized, and she couldn’t help the small thrill that coursed through her. This was it. She had waited so long to see you like this, to watch you come undone before her eyes, and now, the anticipation of it was nearly unbearable.

You shifted in your seat once more, and Agatha’s eyes followed the movement, the way your body reacted to the growing heat between you both. She could see the slight sheen of sweat forming at the back of your neck, the way your breath was becoming more shallow, more labored. The quill had done its job, heightened your awareness, your sensitivity to every small movement, every fleeting touch.

"I- I think I need a moment," you whispered, your voice trembling now, no longer the calm, collected student she was used to.

Agatha’s lips curved upward, a slow, deliberate smile spreading across her face. She could feel the weight of your desire, could almost taste it in the air between you. She knew exactly what you needed, even if you didn’t yet understand it yourself.

"You can have all the time you need," she said softly, her voice a mere breath of sound, knowing full well that the moment had already passed. The spell had already begun its work. And there was no turning back now.

Agatha lets her gaze drop to your hands, noting the way your fingers curl just slightly, as though the movement is automatic, as if you’re trying to hold onto something—anything—to stop the flood of feelings threatening to overwhelm you. You’re so close now, so close to giving in, and Agatha relishes in the control she holds over you, the way every little gesture of yours betrays your struggle.

“Are you feeling... uncomfortable?” Agatha asks, her voice soft, like silk. She leans forward ever so slightly, just enough to see the way you flinch, the way your breath catches in your throat, like you’re suddenly hyper-aware of the way she’s watching you. Her eyes linger on your lips, and she can feel the subtle tension in your body as you fight not to follow her gaze, not to let the heat between you both become too obvious.

Your breath comes in shallow bursts now, faster than before. You shift in your seat again, a little more urgently this time, and Agatha watches as your legs move restlessly, the hem of your skirt inching higher, revealing the delicate curve of your calf. It’s an innocent movement, a natural shift, but Agatha’s eyes track it like a predator eyeing its prey. The magic of the quill hums in the air around you both, thickening the space between you, and she can feel the way it pulls at your resolve, making every small motion feel more intense, more charged with that irresistible pull.

“I, I don’t know what’s happening,” you whisper, your voice barely audible now, strained with the effort of trying to hold onto whatever control you have left. Your eyes flicker to hers for a fleeting moment, then quickly dart away, like a moth too afraid to fly too close to the flame.

Agatha feels her lips part in the smallest of smiles. You think you’re losing control, but she knows better. You’ve been wanting this, she tells herself, even as she watches you struggle against the tide. You want this. You just don’t have the courage to admit it yet.. Your hands clench tighter, your body swaying just slightly in your seat as though you can’t quite decide whether to move closer to her or flee. But Agatha knows. She knows you’ll stay. 

You’ve never felt like this before. You’ve had moments of embarrassment, the familiar flutter of nerves when speaking with Agatha, but this? This is something else entirely. It’s not just your heart racing; it’s something deep inside you, something primal that you can’t name. You feel hungry, in a way that’s foreign, unrecognizable, and yet you know it’s her. Her presence, the way she watches you, the way her eyes seem to follow your every move.

It’s all too much.

Agatha, on the other hand, remains completely oblivious to the chaos she’s unwittingly caused. Her fingers continue their idle drumming on the desk, her posture relaxed, as though nothing is out of the ordinary. She’s staring at the pile of papers in front of her, her attention seemingly elsewhere.

It should be comforting, the way she remains so calm, so controlled, but it only seems to fuel the fire within you. The longer she remains unaware, the more your body betrays you, the more desperate you become for her. You can’t think straight anymore, can’t focus on anything except the ache between your legs, the burning need that has taken root deep inside you.

Finally, you can’t take it any longer. You stand abruptly, your hands trembling as you push the chair back from the desk. Agatha doesn’t notice, her eyes still focused on her notes, still completely absorbed in whatever she’s reading. The sight of her so composed, so calm, is the final straw. You take a shaky step forward, the distance between you and her now feeling insurmountable, like something invisible but real is keeping you apart.

Your voice cracks when you speak, the words escaping before you can stop them. “Professor, I- I need you.”

The moment the words leave your mouth, you freeze. You hadn’t meant to say it. You hadn’t meant for it to sound so desperate, so raw, but the confession is out there now, hanging in the air between you. You swallow hard, your throat dry, as you dare to look up at her.

Agatha blinks, her brow furrowing slightly as she looks at you. For a moment, you wonder if she didn’t hear you properly, if she’s just playing it cool, trying to maintain the authority she always does. But then, slowly, her eyes shift from the papers on the desk to you, and she seems to take in the way you’re standing, how tense you are, how your breathing has changed. She pauses, her lips parting slightly, as though she’s unsure what to make of your admission.

“I-" she begins, her voice soft but still steady. "I’m not sure what you mean. Is something wrong with your project? I thought we were making good progress.”

You shake your head, your chest tightening with each passing second. This isn’t about the project. Not anymore. You can’t seem to form a coherent sentence, your mind clouded by the sensation of wanting her, of needing her. Your body is practically shaking with the intensity of it, your fingers curling into fists at your sides to keep from reaching for her, to keep from pulling her closer.

“No,” you whisper, the word slipping out like a plea. “I need you. I don’t, I don’t know what’s happening, but I can’t- I can’t control it anymore.”

Agatha’s eyes widen slightly, the confusion in her gaze evident, and for a moment, you think she might laugh it off, dismiss it as some odd outburst. But the longer she stares at you, the more she seems to realize that you’re not joking. That this isn’t some fleeting moment of embarrassment or an impulsive comment. This is real. And the realization crashes into her like a wave.

For the briefest of moments, there’s a flicker of something in her expression—something unreadable. Her lips part, but no words come out, as though she’s unsure of how to respond, unsure of whether she should push you away or give in to the pull that seems to be growing between you both.

You take a step closer, the sound of your shoes echoing in the silence. Your body is drawn to her as if it’s not your own anymore, each movement an involuntary reaction to the desire swelling inside you. You’re so close now, so close you can feel the heat radiating from her body, see the subtle rise and fall of her chest as she breathes. It feels like there’s an invisible force pulling you both together, and you’re powerless to stop it.

“I don’t know what you’ve done to me,” you say, your voice trembling now, the words tumbling out in a rush. “But I can’t think. I can’t think of anything but you.”

Agatha is silent for a long moment, her gaze flickering over your face as if searching for any sign that this might be a trick. But there’s no mistaking it now. She can see it, the desperation in your eyes, the way your body is trembling with the weight of your own need. She can feel it too, the way the air between you has shifted, charged with something neither of you can deny.

And still, she remains quiet, her fingers resting on the desk in front of her, her expression unreadable. For a brief, agonizing moment, you wonder if she will reject you, if she will turn away and pretend this never happened. But then, finally, she speaks.

“I see,” Agatha says, her voice almost too soft to hear, but there’s no mistaking the authority in it. “And what is it that you want from me?”

The silence stretches between you, thick and heavy, the tension palpable as Agatha stands still, her gaze unwavering. You can feel the heat pooling in your chest and between your legs, crawling up your neck, suffocating you. Every part of your body aches, an unfamiliar hunger gnawing at your insides, growing with each second that passes. You can’t think straight anymore. You can’t stand it.

You swallow hard, your throat dry, and your hands shake as you finally break the silence. “Please, Agatha,” you whisper, voice trembling. “I can’t take it anymore. I need you. It hurts. Please, make it stop.” Your words spill out in a rush, a frantic plea, and you take a step forward, drawn to her as though you have no control over your body. “Please I don’t know what’s happening, but it hurts. I can’t think straight, I don’t know what to do, I don’t.”

You’re rambling now, desperation clear in your voice, your entire being trembling with the weight of your need. You’ve never felt like this before,so lost, so vulnerable, so exposed. You don’t know how much longer you can stand this unbearable pressure, this overwhelming heat, this need for her.

Agatha’s gaze softens slightly, and you see something flicker in her eyes, a flicker of understanding, maybe even something else. But her expression remains controlled, her facade still intact. She was corrupting you and it felt so sweet.

“Sit,” she commands, her voice calm but firm, her fingers tapping lightly on the top of her desk. The sound echoes through the room, and for a brief moment, you think she’s testing you, waiting to see if you’ll obey, if you’ll listen to her.

Without thinking, your body moves before your mind can even catch up. You move quickly, too quickly, as if your limbs are not entirely your own, and you sit on the edge of the desk in front of her chair. The surface is cool beneath you, but it does nothing to quell the burning ache inside.

“I need you,” you say again, your voice barely more than a broken whisper. “It hurts so much, I can’t take it. Please, Agatha, please, I need you to, to make it stop.”

Your words are frantic now, desperate, each one laced with an urgency that makes your breath catch in your throat. You can’t think. You can only feel. Your body is on fire, your pulse pounding in your ears, and all you can do is beg.

Agatha leans back in her chair, her eyes still fixed on you, and for a long moment, she says nothing. Her fingers rest lightly on the arms of her chair, but the way she holds herself now is different, less rigid, less controlled. Her gaze moves slowly over you, and you feel it like a physical touch, every inch of her attention focused on your trembling form. She’s watching how your skirt has rode up your thighs, your dampened underwear on show to her, this is exactly how she wanted you. 

“I don’t think you understand,” she murmurs, her voice low and tender. But there’s no mistaking the edge to her tone, the quiet power behind her words. “You’re asking for something you don’t fully grasp. Something you won’t be able to walk away from.”

“I don’t care,” you say, the words coming out before you can stop them. “I don’t care. I just I need you to touch me. I need to feel something, anything, to stop this burning inside me.”

You’re on the edge of breaking, and it’s almost too much. Every nerve in your body is on fire, and the ache between your legs is unbearable. You need her. You need her so badly that the thought of being without her, of not feeling her, is enough to make you feel dizzy, lightheaded.

Agatha stands suddenly, her movement fluid and deliberate. You barely register it before she’s right in front of you, so close that you can feel the heat radiating from her body. Her fingers graze your knee as she steps closer, and the touch is electric, sending a jolt of sensation straight through you.

Her lips part slightly, and she leans in, her breath warm against your ear. “Tell me what you need,” she says softly, almost coaxing, but there’s an undeniable authority in her voice now, one that sends a shiver down your spine.

You don’t hesitate. You can’t. “I need you to fuck me.” you gasp, the words slipping out as though they were the only thing holding you together. 

There’s a moment of silence, just a beat, a breath, before Agatha’s fingers press lightly against your chin, tilting your head up so that you’re forced to meet her gaze. Her eyes are dark now, and there’s something predatory in them, something that makes your heart race even faster, makes your body ache even more.

Without a word, she leans in, her lips brushing against your forehead, soft at first, gentle, before she pulls back slightly, her eyes still locked on yours. “You’re sure this is what you want?” she asks, her voice low, almost a whisper, but the weight behind the question makes it impossible to ignore.

You nod fervently, your voice barely a whisper, trembling with desperation. “Yes, yes, Agatha. I need this. I need you.”

Agatha’s eyes flicker with something unreadable, and for a moment, you wonder if she’s reconsidering, if she’s going to push you away, make you leave. But then, slowly, her lips curl into the faintest of smiles—something dark, something knowing.

“Good,” she murmurs, her voice almost satisfied. “Then I’ll give you what you need.”

With that, she steps closer, her hands finding their way to your waist, pulling you closer to her, the closeness nearly overwhelming. She doesn’t speak as she moves, doesn’t need to. There’s no need for words now. Her actions say everything. And you, desperate, trembling with need, can’t help but give in completely.

You reach for her neck, unable to contain yourself anymore, pulling her face closer to yours, trying to connect your lips together in a desperate scramble to feel her on your body. Agatha complied, that same smirk she always wore not once leaving her face as she finally had you sat on her desk, your legs spread round her body, doing anything you could to get her to touch you. 

She doesn’t dare resist your scrambling, instead letting you pull her into a deep kiss, her lips sliding against yours in a messy rhythm, not able to find any relief in how you were feeling. Agatha was anything but gentle with you but you were not complaining, her tongue started to trace your bottom lip and you opened up immediately, letting her explore you with her tongue. You groaned loudly into her mouth, your legs wrapping around her waist, trapping your professor between your legs. She took this opportunity to test your waters, her teeth scraping against your bottom lip before pulling it away from your face, her teeth digging into your skin. When she was met with a muffled moan, it was the prettiest sound Agatha had ever heard and she was thankful for how much rougher you were going to be able to take her now she’d enchanted your emotions and more importantly your body. 

You start to grind your hips up against Agatha’s crotch, you couldn’t work out what was making you feel like this, you’d never acted like this with anyone, and even though you’d imagined it with your professor, you never thought you’d be in this position. The harder you grinded against her, it became more apparent that she was packing something underneath her trousers and the thought of your professor wearing a strap beneath that suit was making you feral.

“You found something you’re looking for?” Agatha teased as you reached your hand to grab the bulge that lay underneath, a moan tumbling from your lips, your legs wrapping around her tighter to feel her cock against you. 

“Do you always wear that?” You ask breathlessly, confused momentarily for why your professor would be wearing a strap to just sit and grade papers in her office. Before you could question it further, Agatha snaked her hand around to touch you through your soaked underwear, hiking your skirt further up your legs and you couldn’t pass out at the feeling. 

“Fuck you’re soaked.” Agatha groaned, the sound of your breathy moans something that she couldn’t ignore, she wanted to devour you, but there was something about leaving you in this state, so whiny and desperate that was particularly appealing, but when she looked at your pleading eyes she realised she couldn’t ever do that to you. “Aren’t you a pretty little thing?” Agatha cooed as she pushed your underwear to the side, looking in awe at your pussy dripping in arousal. You looked so pure and untouched, everything about how your folds trembled in the anticipation to be touched was drawing Agatha in more than she thought she could be.

“Professor please I need you to fill me up.” You whine, the cold air hitting your arousal making you realise just how worked up you’d become. You must’ve said something right, because Agatha let out a breathy grunt before working her index finger towards your entrance, her other hand coming up to grasp at your throat before she pushed her entire digit inside of you. Your strangled moan was even prettier than Agatha expected and when you pushed your neck further into her grip and started to lift your hips to slide her finger in and out of you, she shook her head in genuine disbelief at how pathetic you looked like this. 

You start whining when Agatha doesn’t match your thrusts, wanting nothing more than for her to start pounding her fingers into you, but instead she just slips another finger inside you with ease, stretching your tight pussy around her fingers instead of thrusting into you. You were squirming up against her touch, your clit burning at how it was being ignored by her. Your doe eyes looking up at her as her grip tightened around your neck. “You’re just too tight, I need to warm you up doll.” You groan at her words, knowing for a fact that you could take her. 

“Professor I can take you, I need to take all of you now.” You say desperately, thighs shaking around her waist. You take it into your own hands, unbuckling Agatha’s belt in a chaotic scramble to see her strap that was waiting to be buried inside of you. Normally Agatha wouldn’t tolerate this desperate behaviour, but considering she was the one that put the spell on you, she let it slide, watching in awe as you undressed her bottom half, waiting for the cock to spring out and when it did your eyes widened. “It’s huge.” You gasp, not expecting the sheer girth and length of the purple cock to take you this much by surprise.

“Yeah and you’re gonna take it.” Agatha grins at the scarlet flush on your cheeks, expecting some level of protest, but instead she is met with your hands scrambling at her hips, trying to push her towards you. Agatha chuckled with a low hum at the familiar eagerness that first drew her to you. She doesn’t waste any more time, spitting down onto her hand before rubbing it up and down her strap a few times before slapping the head against your pussy, drawing out a string of desperate whines, your hips bucking wildly at the feeling. “Keep still princess.” She whispers, holding your thighs down onto the desk as she slightly pushes into you, careful not to hurt you. 

You didn’t care, you needed to feel your Professor's cock deep inside you and when she can feel the tremble of your thighs trying to get yourself further onto her strap, she does it for you. She enters you with one single thrust and your fingernails dig hard into her back as she starts to pound harder into you, her hands now gripping your waist, pulling you harder onto her to meet each movement. 

Agatha could see how swollen your clit had become, it was basically begging to be touched, but she knew if she did so much as swipe her finger across it, you’d come and be way too sensitive to go again. The enchantment usually had that effect, but you weren’t letting this end here. You were way too shy to ever come back to her after you remember how pathetic you were asking, so she was going to drag this out for as long as she could. 

She kept pounding into you, your pretty moans had turned into guttural gasps and grunts as you felt the burning in your clit, wanting nothing but to reach down and touch yourself, but you knew better than that, even with the intense feelings you were having, you weren’t about to mess this up. 

You could feel something building inside of you, you’d never come without clitoral stimulation, it was different, but you were craving some sort of relief. Agatha could feel you trembling beneath her, and before you knew it you were empty again. You felt like crying, but before you had a chance to react, her hands were gripping at your scalp, pulling you off the desk and hitting the ground with a thump. Your knees were aching from the drop, but when Agatha turned to look at you, her strap eye level with you, you couldn’t feel it anymore, the only thing you could focus on was the fire in your core begging to be put out. 

“Come on doll, you know you want to.” Agatha smirks at the way your eyes were gleaming at the strap that was glistening in your arousal. Her hand was gripping around the base, guiding it towards your closed mouth, moving the head against your lips until you gave in and your mouth fell open, your tongue immediately attacking Agatha’s cock. 

You wanted nothing more than for her to grab your head and force her cock down your throat, so you tried to do just that. Taking as much of the length into your mouth as you could and Agatha groaned as if she could feel it, her head tilted back as she grabbed the back of your head, helping you as you desperately tried to take the entire thing down your throat. You started to choke as she thrusted into your mouth, she tried to pull out but you gripped the back of her thighs. You suddenly had an intense desire to have your throat fucked raw, something that you’d never even really been into before, but this felt so different. 

“God you’re such a whore,” Agatha spluttered at how keen you were to please her, “You’d do anything as long as I’m pounding into you.” With each word she thrusted harder into your mouth as you nodded at her assumption, moaning and spluttering around her cock, saliva dripping down your chin. 

This time she pulled out of you, sitting back onto her desk chair leaving you on your knees, your brain fuzzy and your face covered in saliva. “Come sit on my lap, you can do the rest of the work if you’re that desperate.” Agatha said casually and she’d never seen someone scramble to get up so quickly. You were dripping down your thighs, your mascara running down your cheeks and combining with the saliva dripping from your chin. 

Agatha couldn’t help but put her hand on your face as you straddled her lap, lowering yourself down onto her strap. She wiped the saliva from your chin, her eyes not leaving your cunt as you finally took the entire thing and before you could even adjust you started bouncing up and down on it, chasing the orgasm that had been ripped from you. Agatha would’ve usually sat back and watched you struggle, but there was something so endearing about your primal desperation to be fucked that she decided to help you out, thrusting her hips back into you as you moved down against her. 

“Fuck Momm-” You stopped yourself, “Professor sorry that’s what I meant.” That did it, Agatha moaned at your words, picking you up off of her cock and slamming you against the desk, forcefully bending you over and spreading you open before thrusting her cock back into you as you moaned gutterally against the desk. 

“You take Mommy’s cock so well princess.” Agatha growls, spreading you further so she could watch her strap disappear inside of you. She grabbed both of your hands, pinning them behind your back to give her some leverage as she thrusted harder into you than before. You could barely see, the pleasure overwhelming you to the point of no return. 

“Mommy my clit, please I need to cum all over your cock, please let me.” You whine, your words barely forming as each time you spoke your body was being shoved hard into her desk, her ungraded papers getting crumpled beneath you, but neither of you seemed to care. 

Agatha obliged, letting go of your hands, slipping one of hers between your legs to harshly brush circles against your clit, her other hand grabbing a fistful of your hair, tugging on your neck so she could see the faint reflection of your fucked out face in the black screen of her computer. 

It wasn’t going to take much more, Agatha was sure she could feel you clenching around her strap and the moans that were leaving your mouth were scratchy and tired, your throat burning from where she was thrusting into you. 

“Mommy, i-’

“Come now pretty girl or you won’t be coming tonight.” Agatha insisted and like magic, you felt every single muscle stand on the edge, your entire body freezing in pleasure as your head went completely blurry. It was like you were in that space forever, before it all came crashing down, every movement, every touch, built upon the last, your rhythm synchronized, bodies attuned to one another. Your breath hitched, a tremor coursing through her frame as the sensation intensified.

Suddenly, it was as if your body had given in completely to the waves of pleasure, an uncontrollable release coursing through you. A warm surge followed, unexpected and thrilling, but it came washing all over you and Agatha’s desk. You fell against the surface, your body soaked with your own arousal. Your professor scoffed at how you’d just squirted all over your fellow students' papers, finding it nothing but amusing. 

“Feel better?” Agatha asks as you nod hard enough to break your neck, the enchantment beginning to wear off as you felt the embarrassment reach your cheeks. 

“I am so sorry, I’ve ruined all these papers.” You say in genuine panic, lifting yourself up and trying to stack all the papers together before a hand touches your wrist, stilling your hands. 

“The only thing ruined here is you.” Agatha smiles, her hand reaching for your chin, her thumb pressing into your cheek as she tries to get you to calm down a little bit. 

“I didn’t know I could do that.” You laugh nervously, your usual demeanor falling back into place and Agatha smirks at how the familiar shyness build back up into your voice. 

“I have my ways.” Agatha smiles, placing a kiss against your forehead as you tug back at your skirt, trying to stop it from riding up your soaked thighs. 

“What like using enchanted quills on your favourite student?” It was your turn to smirk, watching as Agatha’s smile dropped, her brows furrowed in confusion to how you could even know what she had done. 

“How did you-”

“I think you forget how good of a student I am.” You grin, knowing that you’d done your research on witchcraft heavily for your final project, you basically knew every trick Agatha had up her sleeve, “I knew from the moment I picked it up.” You blush, your eyes dropping, almost ashamed to be admitting that you liked the thought of your professor being so desperate to fuck you that she’d go as far as using centuries old enchantments just to be able to do it. 

Agatha smiled at you, her own cheeks slightly flushed pink at being found out, but delighted in the fact that you let the spell take over you, knowing exactly what you were going to get if you did. “God you’d really do anything wouldn’t you.” You nod in response, both of you smiling widely at each other. 

“I think I need another meeting about my project.”

“Tomorrow, 6pm, I’ll be waiting.”

[harknessxo]

I’ve Missed You

Paring: Dark!Agatha Harkness x reader

Summary: You and Agatha had a twisted history. She had kidnapped you into Wanda’s distorted reality to make you into her perfect wife. She had you under a spell until Wanda freed you. Wanda promised you Agatha would never hurt you again and helped you find a new home where Agatha wouldn’t be able to find you. You had your little house in the middle of nowhere, where you were safe…or so you thought. (This is also based on the one clip of Rio pinning Agatha to the wall.)

Warnings; kidnapping, magical manipulation, manipulation, metal abuse, fingering, strap on use (r receiving), mommy kink.

Word Count: 1.9k

A/n: All these Agatha All Along trailers and teaser have motivated me to write after four months. I am so ecstatic for it to come out already! I have waited two years for this! 😭

You and Agatha had a twisted history. She had kidnapped you into Wanda’s distorted reality to make you into her perfect wife. She had you under a spell until Wanda freed you. You told her everything about Agatha’s sick plan and Wanda then was able to trick Agatha and put her under spell, trapping her in Westview. Wanda promised you Agatha would never hurt you again and helped you find a new home where Agatha wouldn’t be able to find you. She even casted runes around the house.

A couple months after those events you found out about Wanda’s death. You grieved her death little, she was the closest thing you had to a friend ever since Agatha stripped you from your friends and family, but most of all you felt fear. Fear that Agatha would come out of the spell and go looking for you especially because Wanda’s runes had disappeared.

You were paranoid for months until you had confirmation that she was still in Westview under the spell. You spent the next three years in hiding. You had your little house in the middle of nowhere, where you were safe…or so you thought.

It was around mid day when you found yourself in the kitchen making some coffee. You were just wearing a robe and your hair was laying wild over your shoulders. As you were pouring the milk into your coffee, you heard a noise outside. You frowned and walked over to the window and saw nothing. As you were about to get back to your coffee, you heard it again. You grabbed a knife and walked over to the front door. Before you could even open it, the door burst over and someone pinned you against the wall, making you drop the knife.

“I’ve missed you, sweetheart.” That voice…you hadn’t heard it in so long, it made your skin crawl.

“A-agatha?” your voice trembled as you said her name. You looked into her eyes, she looked the same, she hadn’t aged a day yet she looked older in a way. Maybe it was the dark circles that laid under her eyes. She gave you a sinister smile moving her hand to brush a strand of hair out of your face and tucked it behind your ear.

“You look as beautiful as the day you left me.”

“How did you free yourself? And how did you find me-”

“I had some help,” she simply said, moving her hand to your neck and squeezing lightly, “I didn’t appreciate you betraying me and running away. Did you really think you could get away from me?” she pouted mockingly.

“Agatha please-” you wrapped your hand around her wrist.

“Say that again, you know how much I love to hear you beg.”

“P-please don’t hurt m-me…” your voice cracked. You were terrified of this woman’s power, of what she could do. Agatha dismissed your pleas and started kissing down your neck, surprisingly gentle.

“God, I missed you so much,” her hand sneaked underneath your robe to grip onto your waist, “Wanda did quite the number on me but now she’s not here to save you,” she whispered harshly into your ear and a tear silently ran down your cheek.

“Shh, baby, there's no need to cry,” she wiped the tear away, “I promise to take my time with you.” She started dragging you to your bedroom and you just let her, you knew better than to fight back. She pushed you on your bed and started undressing. Even if she was manipulative she was still very attractive. Something you would never admit. When she was done, she crawled on top of you, still leaving your robe on.

“Look at me,” she said when you looked everywhere but her. You just wanted this to be over with. “I said look at me,” she demanded, cupping your face, making you look at her. Usually when you looked into her eyes, all you saw was lust and possessiveness but this time, there was something different.

“Tell me you missed me, Y/n. Tell me you missed my touch.” she pleaded. This was very out of character for her. She never showed vulnerability. Ever. Yet, here she was asking you if you missed her as if her life depended on it.

“I…” she started to kiss your neck again, nipping at it, “I missed you too,” you finally said. It wasn’t a complete lie, a small part of you did miss her. She did kidnap you but she still took care of you and gave you everything you had ever wanted.

“Good girl~” she finally started to untie your robe.

“Aggie-” you tried to protest, gripping into her wrist but she pinned your hand above your head with her magical binds.

“Shh, just relax,” she took off your robe, leaving you completely bare, “I’m going to take care of you.”

“All you do is h-hurt me…”

“That’s because you disobeyed me. I had to discipline you,” she said, manipulating you into thinking it was your fault, “If only you just did as you were told, I wouldn't have had to hurt you bunny…” she softly ran her nails down your waist and hips, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. You remained quiet, not saying a word as her fingers moved closer to your core.

“I can’t wait to have you all to myself again,” she finally dipped her fingers into your wetness, chuckling at the fact that you were absolutely soaked for her. She started to slowly circle your clit, her breath hot against your ear.

“You were always so ready for me, baby. Your body still remembers me.” You whimpered when the pleasure caught up to you. You hadn’t touched yourself for so long. Your thoughts undoubtedly went to Agatha every time you tried so you gave up trying to find relief.

She chuckled at your reaction, clearly amused by your whimpers. She started to move her fingers faster, applying more pressure to your clit.

“I bet you haven’t touched yourself since you left me. You were too afraid to think about me, weren’t you?”

“…yes.” You replied, biting your lip when she sped up her movements.

“That’s what I thought. You knew that no one could make you feel as good as I do. No one can satisfy you like I can,” she smiled and leaned down to suck on your neck, leaving a dark spot.

“N-no one can…” You said, your brain turning into mush as she slipped her fingers inside you.

“I’m the only one who knows you better than you know yourself. You can barely take care of yourself, baby. You need me.” Agatha was doing what she knew best, manipulating you. She could put you under her spell again but she wanted you to willingly submit to her. She could feel your body starting to tense up as she continued to work her fingers inside you. She moved her lips to your jaw, placing gentle kisses along the way.

“You’re so close, aren’t you baby? Do you remember the rules?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed in response, tugging at the binds slightly.

“What do you say then?” she slowed down her movements, loving to see you so desperate for her touch.

“Can I cum please?”

“Beg me, baby. I want to hear you beg for me.”

“Please mommy? I promise to be a good girl!” And there it was. She finally had you exactly where she wanted you. She smirked at your words, her eyes darkened with lust.

“That’s my good girl. You always know how to please me. Cum for me, baby. Cum for mommy.” She freed your hands and you clung to her as you rode your high, moving your hips against her hand. She spoke sweet nothings into your ear, encouraging you before finally pulling her fingers out and kissing your forehead. You thought it was over until you felt something poking your entrance again.

“Mommy?” You mumbled again, trying to clench your thighs together. She smiled and gently caressed your face.

“I’m not done with you yet, baby. You still have a lot to make up for~”

“No more-” you tried to push her away but she didn’t budge. She grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at her.

“Don’t tell me no, darling. You’re going to be a good girl and take whatever I give you. Understood? Don’t you want mommy to feel good too?” She started rubbing the tip of her enchanted strap against your pussy lips. She’d fucked you with the strap many times and she could feel everything which is why it was her favorite toy to use on you.

“But I’m too sensitive.” You whined.

“You can handle it, baby,” she chuckled and slowly pushed the tip of the strap inside you, “You’ve done it before…” she started to move her hips, pushing the strap deeper inside you. The strap slipped right in, your juices making it quite easy.

“Fuck, baby. You still feel so fucking tight. You’re taking me so well. You’re such a good girl~” Agatha groaned. Your pained whimpers soon turned into pleasurable moans and the knot in your stomach started to build up again. She continued to thrust into you, her movements becoming more erratic as she felt her own pleasure building up. She leaned down and whispered in your ear.

“That’s it, baby. Keep making those pretty sounds for me. I want to hear you scream my name when you cum.”

“A-Aggie-“ You dug your nails onto her back. She let out a low growl, her grip on your hips tightening.

“Say it again, baby. Say my name again.”

“Agatha!” You came again, your pussy pulsing around her strap as your legs started to shake. Agatha let out a moan as she felt you cum around her strap, her own orgasm washing over her. She continued to thrust into you a few more times before pulling out and collapsing on top of you.

“That’s my good girl. You did so well, baby,” she started petting your hair as if you were a pet. She pulled you closer, holding you in her arms. She ran her fingers through your hair, her voice soft.

“You’re mine and no one else’s. You’re going to be a good girl and obey me, understand? You don’t want mommy to have to hurt for not listening, do you?” You frantically shook your head, burning your face in her neck. She gripped your hair and pulled your head back, forcing you to look at her.

“I said, do you understand? You will do as I say. You will obey me. You are mine to control and use as I please. Don’t make me punish you, baby.”

“I u-understand…” your eyes watered a bit, now you were really trapped. She smiled and released your hair, her hand gently stroking your cheek.

“Good girl. I knew you would see things my way. You’re so much more compliant when your brain is turned into mush, isn’t that right? Maybe I’ll have to fuck you more often so you don’t fight me,” she kissed your forehead and pulled you closer to her, wrapping her arms around you possessively. Agatha held you tightly, enjoying the feeling of having you in her arms again. She ran her fingers through your hair, gently massaging your scalp. She could see the gears turning in your head and spoke up again.

“Don’t worry, baby. You’ll get used to it. You’ll learn to love being mine again. And I’ll take good care of you, I promise. You won’t want anything as long as you’re with me…”

[buttercandy16]

Bound by Death

PAIRING(s): Dark!Rio Vidal x Innocent!Reader

SUMMARY: An innocent witch falls prey to Lady Death's obsession, trapped in a dark web of desire and control.

WARNING(s): Obsession, Manipulation, Control, Noncon, DarkThemes, Degradation, StockholmSyndrome.

A/N: Requested 💚

You didn’t mean to call her. Summoning Lady Death herself was the last thing on your mind. You weren’t powerful enough—at least, that’s what your sister, Lilia, always told you. “Stick to the basics,” she’d said, her voice both patient and stern. “You’re not ready for the deeper arts.”

But your curiosity was insatiable. What harm could a little experimenting do?

It was supposed to be a simple spell—an offering of gratitude to the spirits of the wood. You gathered the ingredients meticulously, whispered the incantations carefully, and poured your heart into the ritual. The forest had been quiet and still, save for the flickering of your candle and the rustle of leaves.

Until she appeared.

At first, you thought she was a shadow—a trick of the waning light. Then she stepped closer, her dark cloak billowing in an unseen wind, her face illuminated by an unearthly glow. The air grew frigid, the kind of cold that seeped into your bones, and her voice sliced through the silence like a blade.

“You called me.”

You stumbled back, your knees weak. “I-I didn’t mean to...”

Her eyes locked onto yours—silver and endless, holding the weight of eternity. Rio Vidal, the Reaper, the Lady of Death. Her beauty was terrifying, her presence suffocating. She stepped closer, a crooked smile curving her lips.

“Didn’t mean to?” she repeated, her voice low and mocking. “Oh, little witch, you can’t undo what you’ve done. You sought something, didn’t you?”

You shook your head desperately. “It was a mistake! Please, I didn’t—”

Her fingers brushed your cheek, the coldness of her touch stealing the air from your lungs. “Don’t lie to me, mi pequeña hechicera.” Her tone was almost gentle, but her grip tightened, forcing you to meet her gaze. “You wanted power, didn’t you?”

“No! I just... I wanted to give thanks!”

She laughed—a sound that chilled you more than her touch. “So innocent,” she mused, her eyes scanning you like a predator sizing up its prey. “But you’ve caught my attention now. That’s a rare thing, little witch. And I don’t let go of what’s mine.”

The days that followed were a blur. You told Lilia what had happened, but she brushed it off as a fluke. “The veil is thin this time of year,” she said, her tone dismissive. “Spirits drift in and out. As long as you haven’t made a pact, you’ll be fine.”

But you weren’t fine.

Rio appeared everywhere: in your dreams, in the shadows of your home, even in the mirror when you glanced too long. Her voice whispered through the night, taunting and commanding.

“You can’t run from me,” she’d say.

She visited often, her presence growing more physical, more consuming. She’d appear in the garden while you tended the herbs, her cold fingers trailing down your arm as she made idle conversation about mortality and devotion. She took pleasure in your discomfort, in the way you squirmed under her gaze.

Lilia began to notice your growing paranoia. “You’re restless,” she said one morning, setting a cup of tea in front of you. “You’re always looking over your shoulder.”

You didn’t tell her about the mark Rio had left on your wrist—a faint sigil that burned cold to the touch. “It’s nothing,” you lied, though the truth sat heavy in your chest.

That night, Rio came to you again, this time at your bedside. She sat at the edge, her cloak cascading like ink across the floor. Her hand rested against your leg, deceptively gentle, but her grip left no room for escape.

“You’re wasting your time pretending you can avoid me,” she said, her tone soft but laced with menace.

“What do you want from me?” you whispered, tears stinging your eyes.

Her smile was slow, predatory. “I want you. All of you. Your loyalty, your magic, your very soul if I decide I want it.” Her fingers traced up your arm, cold and deliberate. “But don’t worry, little witch. I’ll take good care of you. You’ll see.”

“I don’t want this,” you said, though your voice shook with the weight of her presence.

Her eyes darkened, and the room seemed to pulse with her energy. She leaned closer, her face inches from yours. “What you want doesn’t matter, mi amor. You’re mine now.”

She pressed a cold kiss to your forehead, and the darkness claimed you.

Waking up the next morning felt like surfacing from a deep, suffocating sea. The sunlight streaming through your window seemed sharper, almost invasive. But no matter how bright the day, you couldn't shake the chill in your bones.

Rio's words echoed in your mind: "You're mine now."

Your hand strayed to your wrist where her mark lay, a sigil faint yet undeniable. You’d hoped it would fade like some lingering nightmare, but it burned ice-cold beneath your touch, a tether you couldn’t sever.

Lilia's voice startled you as she called from the kitchen. "You’re up early," she said as you shuffled in, your unease masked by the calm of routine. She didn’t know what lurked in the shadows. She couldn’t see how the air felt heavier, how it seemed charged with an oppressive, otherworldly energy.

You didn’t tell her. How could you? Lilia had always been the stronger one—both in magic and temperament. But this? Even her power seemed insignificant compared to Rio’s suffocating presence.

"Couldn’t sleep," you muttered, avoiding her gaze as you poured a cup of tea.

Her eyes narrowed. “Have you been dabbling again?” she asked, her voice tinged with suspicion.

You shook your head quickly. "No! I..." The lie almost choked you. You turned away before she could question further.

But that night, Rio returned.

This time, she didn’t wait for your compliance or conversation. You felt her before you saw her: the air in your room grew frigid, your breath misting as shadows coalesced at the foot of your bed. When she appeared, her form was draped in dark elegance, her silver eyes alight with a predatory gleam.

“You can’t avoid me forever,” she said, her voice low and intimate.

“I wasn’t trying to summon you,” you protested, your hands clenching the blanket tightly.

“Ah, but that’s the beauty of it,” she replied, tilting her head. “You don’t have to. You and I are connected now, little witch. Did you really think you could make a call to the beyond and walk away unscathed?”

You stared at her, your voice caught in your throat.

She stepped closer, her movements slow and deliberate, as though savoring every step that brought her nearer to you. Her cold fingers brushed your chin, forcing you to meet her piercing gaze.

“You don’t understand yet,” she murmured, her voice a dark lullaby. “But you will.”

"Understand what?" you whispered, your voice trembling.

"That you were meant to be mine," she said, her lips curving into a smile that was equal parts alluring and terrifying. "I’ve taken kings, queens, and warriors. But you?” Her hand moved to cradle your cheek, her thumb brushing lightly across your skin. “You’ll be my greatest treasure."

Tears welled in your eyes as her words sank in, the weight of them pressing down on you like a suffocating fog. “Please, let me go,” you whispered.

Her laugh was soft and cruel. “Oh, little one, I am letting you go. For now. But you’ll come to me willingly. You’ll see that no one else can give you what I can.”

Before you could protest, she leaned closer, her cold lips grazing your ear. “Don’t fight it,” she whispered. “It’s so much sweeter when you surrender.”

And just as quickly as she appeared, she vanished, leaving you alone in the chilling silence of your room.

But the mark on your wrist pulsed faintly, a reminder that her claim on you was far from over.

The following days blurred together in a haze of paranoia and unease. Rio’s presence was no longer a subtle weight lingering at the edges of your consciousness; it was suffocating. She came and went as she pleased, making herself a constant in your life whether you wanted it or not.

It was on one of those nights, when you were too tired to fight sleep, that she made her move.

Your room was pitch dark, the stillness broken only by the faint rustle of the wind outside. A frigid touch on your ankle jolted you awake, and there she was—seated on the edge of your bed, her silhouette illuminated by the pale moonlight spilling through the curtains.

"Did I startle you, mi pequeña bruja?" she murmured, a sly smile pulling at her lips.

"Get out," you said, voice trembling but firm. "You're not welcome here."

Rio tilted her head, her silver eyes glinting as though your defiance amused her. "Oh, but I don’t need permission anymore. You already belong to me."

She leaned forward, her fingers ghosting over your arm, cold and unnervingly gentle. "Why do you keep fighting when it only makes things harder for you?" Her voice was deceptively soothing, like the calm before a storm.

"I don't want any of this," you snapped, pulling your arm away.

Her smirk darkened. "You don't know what you want."

With a flick of her wrist, the mark on your skin flared icy blue, a sharp, stinging reminder of the bond she’d tethered to you. Your gasp of pain made her smile widen.

"You’re so delicate," she purred, her hand moving to cradle your face. "So easily broken. But don’t worry, mi amor, I’ll take care of you."

Her touch traveled lower, fingers brushing over your collarbone. It wasn’t tender, not really. It felt more like a claim—a slow, deliberate reminder of who held the power. You wanted to recoil, to push her away, but your body betrayed you. Whether it was fear, magic, or something darker, you stayed frozen under her gaze.

"Such a sweet little thing," she murmured, leaning down until her face was only inches from yours. Her breath was cold against your skin, sending chills racing down your spine. "Fighting me won’t work, little one. You’ll see soon enough... submission will feel so much better."

“Rio...” Your voice cracked, barely above a whisper.

"Shh," she cooed, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "No need to speak. Just listen. Feel."

Her lips hovered over yours, teasingly close, but she didn’t press forward. Instead, she shifted to your neck, her cold lips grazing your skin. It wasn’t gentle; it felt calculated, like she wanted to leave an impression that would haunt you long after she was gone.

"You can run from others," she said against your skin, her voice low and dangerous, "but you can’t run from me. I am death. I am the end and the beginning. You’ll find no escape, only inevitability."

Tears welled in your eyes, frustration and fear mingling into a knot in your chest. "Please..."

"Please, what?" she asked, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze. Her eyes held a wicked gleam, and her lips curled into a smirk. "You don’t even know what you’re asking for, little witch. But I’ll give you what you need—even if you’re too afraid to see it now."

Her thumb brushed across your lower lip, and the intimate gesture sent a shiver down your spine. She smiled at your reaction, clearly pleased by your discomfort.

"I’ll come for you again soon," she whispered, pressing a final, icy kiss to your forehead before vanishing into the shadows.

You were left trembling and alone, the cold feeling of her touch lingering long after she’d gone.

Things started to turn for the worse.

It started small—your spells backfiring, draining your energy faster than they should. Then there were the whispers that filled the silences, impossible to ignore. They weaved promises and threats into your mind:

"You’ll never be safe without me."

"You’re too fragile for this world."

"Submit, and I’ll give you everything you’ve ever desired."

Your independence chipped away with every moment you spent second-guessing yourself.

It was Lilia who first noticed. “Your magic is unraveling,” she said one evening, her brow furrowed in concern as she studied you. “You need to center yourself. What’s happening?”

You bit your lip, unwilling to tell her. If she knew Rio had staked a claim on you, she’d try to intervene—and that terrified you. What could even Lilia, with all her skill and confidence, do against someone like Rio? You’d seen what she was capable of. The mere thought of angering her again sent chills racing through you.

“I’ll figure it out,” you lied. “It’s nothing.”

But it wasn’t nothing.

One quiet evening, you sat on the floor of the cottage, sifting through spellbooks in a desperate attempt to find a way to break Rio’s mark. The text in front of you blurred as exhaustion overtook your focus, but as you pushed yourself harder, the candles in the room flickered.

And there she was.

“Still trying to fight me?” Rio’s voice sent a sharp stab of panic through your chest.

Your head shot up, your heartbeat pounding in your ears. She stood in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame. She looked almost amused as her silver eyes tracked your every move.

"You shouldn’t overwork yourself, mi bruja," she chided, stepping into the room with a predatory grace. "It’s adorable that you’re trying, though."

“Why?” The question burst out of you, raw and desperate. “Why me? I’m nobody—nothing compared to what you are. Just leave me alone!”

Rio’s expression softened, but not in the comforting way you’d hoped. It was mocking, tinged with something cruelly possessive. She crouched down in front of you, one hand tilting your face toward her.

“Nothing? You’re far from nothing,” she said, her voice quiet, dangerous. “You’re mine. And I take very good care of what’s mine.”

She held your gaze, her thumb brushing over your cheek as her hand cradled your face. The touch felt deceptively soft, but you knew better by now. You flinched, trying to pull away, but she grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at her.

“Do you understand what I’ve done for you?” Her tone was still soft, almost coaxing. “I’ve been patient. I’ve let you run around, pretending you have a choice. But you’re so fragile, little one. Look at you—drained, lost, stumbling around like a child in the dark.”

Tears welled in your eyes. “I don’t need you.”

Rio smiled, and it chilled you to the core. “You already do,” she said simply.

She waved her hand, and the mark on your wrist burned cold. You gasped in pain, the chill spreading through your arm and radiating into your chest. Your mind swam with an overwhelming sense of loss, fear, and longing—emotions you couldn’t separate from each other anymore.

“Every time you resist me, this world will hurt you more,” Rio said, her tone matter-of-fact. “But I can give you strength, protection, peace. All you have to do is let me in.”

When she released you, the weight of her absence felt like a part of you had been torn away. It was the cruelest trick—making you long for her presence just to feel whole.

“I’ll come back when you’re ready,” she said, her voice carrying a hint of a promise. “And trust me, you will be ready soon.”

You curled into yourself as she disappeared, your tears falling freely. Deep down, you realized she was twisting something inside you, warping your resolve piece by piece.

And you hated that it was working.

The days that followed were a blur of fear, anger, and desperation. You threw yourself into research, scouring every book, every scrap of magical knowledge you could find. Somewhere, there had to be a way to undo Rio's mark—a way to sever the connection that bound her to you.

You thought you could handle it alone. But the strain wore at you, gnawing away at your confidence. The more you tried to use magic, the more you felt the weight of her influence. Every spell fizzled out, every incantation felt heavier, harder to manage. The mark on your wrist would burn whenever you pushed too hard, as if Rio were reminding you of her presence, taunting you from afar.

Lilia was beginning to notice the cracks in your facade. Her watchful eyes lingered on you longer than they used to, her questions more pointed.

"You’re restless," she said one evening as the two of you shared dinner. "Something’s wrong, and it’s not just the magic. Tell me what’s going on."

"I told you, I’m fine," you muttered, stabbing at your plate without appetite.

"You’re not fine," she shot back, her voice firm but not unkind. "I’ve seen the way your spells falter, how distracted you’ve been. This isn’t just fatigue, is it?"

You clenched your fists, your mind racing for an excuse, but nothing felt believable enough. The truth clawed at your throat, but you swallowed it down. If you told her about Rio, she’d try to intervene. She’d confront her, and that... that terrified you more than anything.

"I just need time," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

But time wasn’t on your side.

That night, you tried again—a simple purification spell, something Lilia had taught you years ago. You whispered the words with as much conviction as you could muster, pouring all of your focus into the magic. But no sooner had the energy begun to flow than the mark on your wrist ignited in sharp, icy pain.

Your concentration shattered, the spell sputtering out like a candle in the wind.

You spun around to find Rio standing in the corner of the room, her presence dominating the space. Her silver eyes gleamed in the dim light, a predatory smile playing on her lips.

"I won’t let you control me," you said, your voice shaking but resolute.

Rio’s smile faltered, and for a moment, her eyes darkened with something you couldn’t quite place—anger, disappointment, or perhaps something deeper.

"Oh, little witch," she said, her voice lowering as she stepped even closer. “This isn’t control. It’s inevitability. The sooner you accept that, the less this will hurt.”

She reached for your wrist, her fingers brushing over the mark. You tried to pull away, but her grip tightened like a vice, cold and unyielding.

“This bond between us? It’s permanent. You can run, you can scream, you can even try to break it. But in the end, you’ll realize there’s no escaping me.”

Her words sent a shiver down your spine, not just because of their weight, but because part of you believed her.

“I don’t want this,” you said, tears slipping down your cheeks.

Her expression softened in a way that felt almost genuine. “You think you don’t,” she said softly. “But I see what you need—what you crave. Protection. Purpose. Someone who will never leave you, no matter what. And that someone is me.”

Her hand moved to cup your cheek, her cold touch sending a jolt of conflicting emotions through you. You hated how your body froze under her gaze, how her words seeped into the cracks in your resolve.

"You’re lying," you managed to say, though your voice wavered.

"Am I?" she asked, tilting her head. "Then why haven’t you told your sister about me? Why haven’t you begged her to save you?"

Your breath hitched.

Rio’s smile returned, slow and knowing. "Because deep down, you already know the truth. You can’t live without me now, little one. And the longer you fight it, the more painful it will be."

Her lips ghosted over your forehead in a mockery of tenderness. “Don’t worry, my darling. I’m patient. I’ll wait until you finally understand.”

And then, just like that, she was gone, leaving you trembling and alone, the echoes of her voice ringing in your mind.

As much as you wanted to deny it, there was a part of you—buried deep and growing louder—that couldn’t help but wonder if she was right.

The days blurred into weeks, each one more suffocating than the last. Rio’s words haunted you, weaving their way through your thoughts, tangling with your fears, and distorting your sense of reality. You tried to keep your distance from her, to focus on breaking free, but every step you took seemed to bring her closer, as though she were guiding you down a path only she could see.

Lilia began to notice. She asked more pointed questions, spent more time watching you. "You’re withdrawing," she said one evening, her gaze steady. "It’s like something is... draining you."

You tried to smile, to lie like you always did, but the exhaustion was etched into every corner of your being. Your spells continued to fail. Your magic, once vibrant and alive, was now a hollow, unpredictable force. And in your weakest moments, you thought about her—Rio, her promises, her cold, comforting touch. It disgusted you, terrified you. But it was impossible to ignore.

You closed your eyes tight, shaking your head against her words. But when you opened them, she was there, seated in the chair by the window as though she had always been part of the room. Her silver eyes glowed faintly in the moonlight, her presence commanding every inch of space.

"I see the cracks forming," she said softly, rising from her seat. She moved to the bed, her steps deliberate, graceful, like a predator approaching wounded prey.

Tears pricked at your eyes, but you didn’t pull away. Her touch was cold but grounding, anchoring you in a way you couldn’t explain. She leaned closer, her presence overwhelming, her scent intoxicating despite the chill that radiated from her.

“You’re mine,” she whispered, her lips brushing against your temple. “Say it.”

“I’m not...” you tried to say, but the words faltered. Your resolve was crumbling, the weight of her presence too much to bear.

Tears brimmed in your eyes, frustration boiling over. “You’ve taken everything from me! My magic, my freedom, my mind—you’ve ruined me!”

For a moment, something shifted in Rio’s expression. Regret? No, it was something darker—possessive satisfaction. "I didn’t ruin you," she said softly. "I saved you. You just haven’t accepted it yet."

Her grip tightened, her nails digging into your skin—not enough to hurt, but enough to remind you who was in control. "You’ve been trying so hard to hold on to who you were, but that girl is gone, my love. There’s no place for her in my world. Only the new you—the one I’m creating."

“I don’t want to be yours!” you screamed, your voice cracking.

She didn’t flinch. Instead, she smiled, the calm, knowing smile of someone who already knew how this story ended. "Oh, but you are. Deep down, you’ve already given yourself to me. That’s why you’re so afraid, isn’t it? You’ve realized there’s no way back."

Her lips brushed your temple, cold and cruel. You tried to turn away, but she held you firm, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Soon, you won’t even want to fight me.”

That was it. Something inside you snapped.

“No!” you screamed, shoving her away with every ounce of strength you had left. She stumbled back a step, her eyes widening—not in anger, but surprise.

You turned and ran.

You tore through the cottage, your feet pounding against the floorboards. Your mind was a whirlwind of fear and fury. You didn’t care where you were going, only that you had to get away from her.

But no matter how fast you ran, the air grew colder. The shadows seemed to chase you, reaching out with invisible fingers. And then you heard her voice, calm and unbothered, echoing through the halls.

"Where are you going, mi bruja? There’s nowhere you can run."

You reached the back door, flinging it open into the storm outside. Rain lashed at your face, but you didn’t stop. You stumbled into the forest, your lungs burning, your clothes soaked to the skin.

For a brief, desperate moment, you thought you might escape. But then she appeared, stepping out of the shadows as if she had always been there, waiting for you to fall.

Her hair was untouched by the storm, her dress pristine despite the mud and rain. She was perfect, unyielding, and terrifying.

"Running from me," she said softly, tilting her head. "Such a waste of energy, my little witch."

You dropped to your knees, sobs wracking your body. “What do you want from me?” you choked out, your voice barely audible over the storm.

Rio knelt before you, her hands resting lightly on your shoulders. Her touch was cold as ever, but this time, it felt like surrender.

“I want you,” she said simply, her voice steady. “Completely. Your mind, your body, your soul. No resistance. No hesitation. Only me.”

Her silver eyes bore into yours, unrelenting. “And you’ll give it to me. Maybe not today, but soon. You can fight, you can scream, but in the end, you’ll see. You’ll belong to me.”

You wanted to deny her, to scream that she was wrong. But as her cold embrace closed around you, your resolve wavered. Deep down, a terrifying truth was beginning to take root.

What if she was right?

What if she already had you?

The storm outside had long subsided, but inside, the air hung heavy with an ominous stillness. Rio stood before you in the dimly lit room, her patience worn thin, the faint amusement she often carried replaced with a chilling determination.

"I’ve given you every chance to accept the inevitable," she said, her voice devoid of the feigned gentleness she had once used to coax you. "But your stubbornness has tested my patience for the last time."

Her words chilled you to the bone, but you refused to respond, keeping your gaze fixed on the floor as if defiance alone could shield you from her power.

"You want to run, don’t you?" Rio continued, stepping closer. Her footsteps echoed like a countdown, each step pulling you further into the abyss. "But even now, you’re beginning to realize how futile that is. Still, you force my hand."

Before you could move, her cold, ghostly grip was on your wrist, the mark she had burned into your skin igniting with searing pain. You gasped, the agony buckling your knees, but she didn’t relent.

“You will break, mi bruja, and I will be the one to mold the pieces.” Her silver eyes bore into yours, devoid of mercy, her grip like steel.

You struggled weakly, your magic sputtering like dying embers, but Rio’s hold was suffocating, her aura pressing against you like an iron vice.

“I didn’t want it to come to this,” she murmured, her voice so low it was almost a whisper. “But you’ve left me no choice.”

A swirling darkness spread from her fingertips, creeping up your arm like tendrils of night. It burned and froze at the same time, sinking into your very soul, wrapping around your mind with suffocating intensity. You gasped, clawing at her arm, but there was no escaping it.

The mark on your wrist seemed to come alive, glowing a sinister black-red as Rio leaned closer, her voice wrapping around you like the enchantment it was.

"Let go," she whispered. “Let me in, or I will take what I want, no matter how much it hurts you.”

Her free hand trailed up to your face, her cold touch sending waves of chilling energy through your body. It wasn’t gentle—her fingers dug into your skin, possessive and unyielding. She forced you to meet her gaze, her silver eyes alight with dark promise.

“You’ve fought so hard, little witch,” she said softly, brushing a tear from your cheek with her thumb. “But that fight ends now. You will give me everything.”

The tendrils of dark magic tightened their grip, pushing into your thoughts, your memories, your very essence. Your protests died in your throat as she overwhelmed you, her presence filling every corner of your being.

"You will beg me for release," she hissed, her lips brushing against your ear. "You will cry for me, call for me, and when you’re too broken to fight, you will thank me for taking what was always mine."

Something deep within you cracked under the weight of her will, her magic, her voice. The resistance you had clung to so fiercely now seemed pointless, your very self slipping through your grasp like sand in a tide.

As your vision blurred, Rio’s lips curled into a victorious smile. “That’s it,” she said softly. “Finally, you understand.”

Your body trembled, weak and defenseless, as the last vestiges of defiance crumbled. The dark tendrils enveloped you fully, binding you to her completely, until there was nothing left but her cold embrace.

You didn’t know when the tears stopped, or when the weight in your chest gave way to hollow acceptance. But as Rio cradled you against her, her grip like a chain and her smile like a noose, you realized the fight was over.

You were hers. Completely.

_-_-_

Please don't forget to vote, reblog, and comment 💚

[scarlethexelove]

hey! lemme just say first that I love your Agatha fics, it's so on character <3 I read your fic the other night and I can't stop thinking about it. Is there part 2 for 'Why are you here'? If there will be, I was thinking if you could put how Reader went to Agatha's house that night and she (Agatha) fulfilled her promise to her by fucking her in different positions until she's overstimulated. and then she breeds her full of her cum just because she's possessive :D

You Came

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Maximoff!Reader

Word Count: 2238

Warnings: Smut, Legal age gap, Dom!Agatha, Sub!Reader, Enchanted Strap, Cum Strap, Breeding, Degrading, Possessive!Agatha, Blow Jobs, Rough sex, Dark!Agatha at the end, Overstimulation, Dacryphilia, Slight bondage, Squirting, Marking.

Pt 1, Pt 3, Pt 4, Pt 5

A/n: I had enjoyment of writing this. Of course while writing I had the thought of Agatha having darker ulterior motives but like she still wants Reader either way. Just a bit of a motivation to have them.

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN

The window squeaks as it slides open. You grimace at the noise hoping that no one heard you. The darkness and silence around you leads you to let out a breath that you didn’t know you were holding. You carefully climb out the window, your foot catching on the window seal before you face plant into the ground. Your hands going out trying to catch you but failing miserably. “Son of a bitch.” You groan as you get up and dust yourself off. You’re thankful that after the commotion earlier in the day your mom as she profusely apologized used her magic to heal you. She normally never did that but she felt so guilty for being the one to cause you pain that she made an exception. You know she never meant to hurt you so all was forgiven, but now you're sneaking out to meet up with a woman that your mom despises. 

You look around making sure that no one heard you yet again. Sneaking out past the front window. You can see your mom the glow of the tv in the dark room illuminating her sleeping face. You feel bad for sneaking out to meet Agatha but the woman is so enticing. You shake the thoughts away as you make your way next door. 

You raise your hand balling it into a fist ready to knock on the door when it swings open. You gasp in surprise at the much older woman standing in front of you wearing nothing but a lace lingerie set. You frantically look back behind you turning your head in multiple directions scared someone will see. Your head whips back to the woman a smirk on her lips as her hand is planted on the edge of the door. “What the fuck do you think your doing?” You whisper scream at Agatha. She grabs the collar of your shirt, balling her fist there and pulls you in, shutting the door behind you before pressing you against it. Her hand snaking around your neck and squeezing. “Who do you think you're talking to like that little girl? Hmm did your mother never teach you manners? Don’t worry bunny, I'll teach you.” You can’t help the whimper that slips past your lips. 

Agatha licks her lips. Your wide eyed innocent look is driving her insane. She can’t wait to destroy you. She pushes you down to the ground hard. Your knee’s connecting with the hardwood floors causing you to whimper from the pain. Sure that you will have bruises there later. You look up to the woman confusion crossing your face as a sinister grin spreads across her. Purple swirls around the both of you before a strap appears around her hips slapping you in the face. Your clothes are also gone in an instant. You blush a deep red trying to cover your body but Agatha has no part of that. Your hands are instantly bound behind your back purple magic wrapped around them tightly. 

Arousal starts to coat your thighs as Agatha takes her strap in her hand, jerking it a bit and moaning before slapping it against your cheek a few times. “I want you to suck my cock. Put that dirty mouth to good use.” You open your mouth to talk back but instead Agatha shoves her strap down your throat causing you to gag. When she moans it that is when you realize that the strap is enchanted. You can feel it pulsing in your throat as you look up at the woman with tears in your eyes. 

Agatha’s hand cups your cheek wiping away the tears that fall. “So pretty when you cry.” She thrust the strap in and out of your throat. Her hand moving from your cheek up to your hair. Gripping harshly and pulling you all the way down on her cock. Your gags fill the room as more tears fall down your face. She leaves you there for what seems like forever before pulling you off. You cough, catching your breath. But she only gives you a short amount of time before she is back to fucking your throat with her strap. The only sounds in the room are of your gags and her moans. “Fuck if your throat feels like this I can’t wait to fuck your pussy.” She groans her hips already become more erratic the longer she thrust. 

Arousal drips out of you, your thighs coated as it slowly drips to the floor. Your mind is already turning to mush as the woman uses you. Her hips are jerking and you think she is about to cum but then her hips come to a stop. Pulling you off of her and pulling you up by your hair. You whimper as your scalp stings her grip tight. You’re soon face to face with the woman but not for long. She waves the restraints away and pushes you back against the door. Her hands moving to the back of your thighs signaling for you to jump. You do as she wants she catches you as you wrap your legs around her waist and she pushes you further into the door. Your chest slightly heaving as your still trying to catch your breath from the brutal throat fucking. 

“God, you're already dripping all over me. Are you so much of a whore that fucking your throat gets you off?” Agatha’s words are condescending. “I-” She cuts you off as she thrust her strap into your waiting hole. You let out a loud moan as she sheaths herself in you. “Mmm fuck.” You groan, your head falling back on the door. She starts a hard and face pace pounding into you. Your mind goes blank as the only thoughts in your head are of her. Her name is already falling from your lips like a chant. 

You hate how embarrassingly fast she is building you up. Perfectly angeling her hips hitting that spot deep inside you as her fingers dig into your hips. Her lips move to meet your neck leaving her mark behind as she pounds into you. You know you will be covered by the end of this. Nipping and sucking along her neck and chest. “Please.” You whimper out the only word your brain can form. “Please what bunny?” She smirks against your skin. She knows exactly what you want but why not toy with you a little more. 

You struggle to find the words. Her hips jackhammering into you erratically and you can tell she is just as close as you are with your walls clamping around her tightly. “Pl-please wanna cum.” You have more tears in your eyes. You try and look down at the woman begging with your tear stained face. Your arms wrapped around her back as your nails dig in leaving angry red lines in their wake. 

“Cum with me.” Agatha pecks your lips. With a few more thrust her hips stutter and you can feel a warm sticky fluid filling you up. You cry out as it triggers your own orgasm. Coating her strap in your juices as she continues to fuck into you. But she doesn’t stop there she continues to pound into you intent on keeping her promise to show you just how much she can make you cum. “Oh fuck!” You gasp. Her hips continue to drill into you faster if that was even possible. 

Agatha kissing your neck and mumbling against your skin. “This pretty little pussy is mine. No one can have you. No one can touch you, not even you. You understand me, little girl?” She grunts with every thrust. You shake your head, pleasure clouding your mind as your second orgasm nears. “I’m going to fill this pussy over and over again. All mine.” She is like an animal claiming her prey as she bites down hard on your neck. You cry out in a mix of pleasure and pain. Your orgasm unexpectedly washing over you as you cum again all over her strap. Your body arching, pressing your chest against hers as your legs shake around her waist. If she wasn’t holding you against the door you know you would be on the floor. She moans, feeling you cum again following soon after. “Mine. My little breeding bitch.” Her fingers dug in more.

You expect Agatha to slow down but she doesn’t. She continues her pace. You’ve lost count of how many orgasms you have had. Your neck and chest marked with reddish purple marks, bruises forming on your hips and thighs and she relentlessly fucks you. Your cheeks are tear stained and you’ve become a drooling whimpering mess. She fills you up again but this time when you’ve come down her hips still leaning her forehead against your shoulder. Both of you panting heavily and bodies glistening with sweat. You have no idea how she is still holding you up like this but you're too dumbed down to really care. 

When your breathing finally evens out a bit she shifts causing you to whimper. You're so overstimulated as the strap still buried inside of you moves. “Too much.” More tears stream down your face. But you can see a flicker of desire and that primal need to fill you once again. 

Agatha carries you over to the back of the couch. Her strap slips out, making you whimper more. She places you down and your legs would have given out if it weren’t for her hold on your waist. She quickly turns you around pushing your upper body over the back of the couch. “No more.” You whimper out. “Come on, bunny, just one more for me. I need to make sure you're full of me.” Her fingers trace your red puffy pussy all of your combined juices leaking out down your legs. You squirm at her actions. Your body is telling you no but your mind is begging for more. Just like she knew you would. “Okay.” Your weak voice comes out. 

That is all Agatha needs to shove her strap back into your hole. Still somehow so tight even after all the orgasms she has pulled out of you. She pulls your hands behind your back holding onto your wrist using them as leverage to pound into you. You’re both so sensitive that your orgasms are building quickly. She leans over still rutting into you and whispers in your ear. “What would mommy dearest think seeing her little girl getting fucked into oblivion but her enemy. What if I get you pregnant with my child? Poor mommy would be so mad, wouldn’t she?” Your mind reels at her words you love your mom more than anything and would never want to do anything to hurt her. But in this moment you feel so good and fucked out that all you can do is nod. 

Agatha darkly chuckles as she stands back up her hips already jerking as she comes close to filling you up again. If her spell works right you will be pregnant with her child by the end of the night. She will get her revenge on Wanda and destroy her perfect little family. Smirking at the thought of how your mother will react when she finds out you're pregnant and when she finds out just who the other parent is. Her thrust becomes rougher and digging her nails into the skin of your wrist. Her plan unfolding perfectly with as she fucks into you. So pretty and perfect the perfect puzzle piece to her plan. But even after this she thinks she will keep you. You're too perfect and pliable to let go to waist on some stupid girl. 

Agatha’s free hand reaches under your body, snaking her fingers down to your swollen clit. Pressing into it hard and pinching. You cry out form her actions but you push back none the less, helping to fuck yourself back on her strap. The pleasure is borderline painful as you become way too overstimulated. You can’t hold out much longer as Agatha toys with your clit pounding into your soaked pussy. A mix of whimpers and moans leaving your lips as grunts leave Agatha’s. 

All at once your body shakes under her. Your walls are squeezing her strap tight as you cum hard. Squirting everywhere making a mess of yourself and Agatha. She moans as your cum squirts out of you, vigorously pounding into you and circling your clit until she is emptying her load into you. Black spots start to invade your vision as Agatha rides you both through your highs. Soon the spots expand and your vision goes black and your body goes limp under her. Agatha slows to a stop before pulling out of your still spasming hole. Taking a minute to admire the cum leaking out of your gaping hole. 

Agatha picks up your limp body moving around the couch and laying you down. With a flick of her wrist you're cleaned up and so is she. She leaves your form naked admiring her handy work. She leans down next to your sleeping body. Placing her hand gently on your stomach, magic flowing through her fingers. She smiles when she feels it. Her plan worked. You’re pregnant with her child. She leans down kissing your head as her thumb rubs gently over your stomach. You’re now hers forever.