#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]

The Landlady

PAIRING(s): Landlady!AgathaHarkness x Tennant!Reader

SUMMARY: New place, new beginning, and strange nights.

WARNING(s): Non-Con, Dub-Con, Stockholm Syndrome, Somnophilia, Manipulation, Breastfeeding Kink, and other Dark Themes

A/N: Just exploring some kinks that I find interesting.

The room was small but cozy, bathed in warm hues from a Persian rug and a few old-fashioned lamps that gave off a golden glow. The walls were lined with bookshelves stuffed to the brim, their spines worn from years of use. It felt inviting, charmingly cluttered, and smelled faintly of lavender and something richer—something earthy and intoxicating.

"This is the space," Agatha said, gesturing toward the spare bedroom as she turned to face you, her smile like a velvet trap. Her dark hair was swept casually over one shoulder, and her blouse clung in all the right ways, accentuating her confidence and an air of playful mystery.

You felt impossibly out of place, standing in her perfectly curated home with your battered suitcase and freshly broken heart. Your ex’s harsh words still echoed in your mind, but you pushed the memories aside, forcing a small smile. “It’s perfect.”

Her smile widened, and she leaned against the doorframe, a spark of amusement in her piercing blue eyes. “Perfect, hmm? High praise. I’ll take it.”

Her flirtation was subtle, but it didn’t escape your notice. Since you’d replied to her ad, she had been effortlessly charming, her wit sharp but never cruel. At first, you’d been nervous about moving in with someone so... magnetic. She was older, sophisticated, confident in a way that left you fumbling for words. But when Agatha leaned into that confidence—throwing in a wink or letting her hand linger on yours during mundane moments—it left your chest tight and your cheeks warm.

You blamed the tiny crush forming in the back of your mind on the turbulence of your breakup. Agatha couldn’t possibly see you that way—her endless flirting was surely harmless.

Wasn’t it?

For the first few weeks, things felt easy. Agatha proved to be an ideal roommate. She shared her carefully prepared meals with you, the kind that were always spiced just right. She kept the kitchen spotless, offered advice when you sheepishly confided about your ex, and filled the silence with laughter when the weight of your heartbreak threatened to pull you under.

The only odd thing, you’d noticed, were the nights.

You began waking up feeling... strange. As if you were buzzing, every nerve in your body unusually sensitive. Your dreams grew more vivid and peculiar, filled with a phantom warmth you couldn’t quite explain. Fingers tracing your skin, soft breaths grazing your neck, whispers you couldn’t make out. And every time you woke, you felt flushed, your heart racing, the sensation too tangible for a mere dream.

At first, you shrugged it off as residual stress. The breakup. The move. It was a lot to process, after all. But then, strange details started to pile up. You’d wake with your blankets slightly askew or your shirt riding up your stomach. Once, you swore you smelled Agatha’s perfume on your pillow—the same lavender and musky hint you could only associate with her.

It was easy to dismiss at first. Coincidence. Sleepwalking. Overthinking.

But the feelings lingered—tingling warmth along your neck, an ache in your chest you couldn’t place, as if you were missing something you didn’t understand.

What you didn’t realize was that your dreams weren’t dreams at all.

Agatha sat perched at your bedside every night, thankful to the drug she slipped in your evening tea, ensuring you stayed in a deep, pliant sleep. Her fingers trailed softly over your cheek as she watched you, her expression caught between tender admiration and raw hunger.

“You’re so sweet when you sleep,” she murmured one night, her voice a low whisper meant only for your unconscious ears. Her hand brushed the strands of hair from your face, and she let herself indulge, pressing her lips to your forehead in a possessive kiss.

Each night, her touches grew bolder. Her fingertips ghosted down your arms, tracing invisible lines along your skin as though she could draw you closer to her even in sleep. Sometimes, she let her hand linger at your waist, feeling the steady rise and fall of your breath as you laid helpless beneath her gaze.

“You don’t even know how much I’ve longed for this,” Agatha whispered another night, her hand curling into a fist briefly before relaxing again. “Every sigh, every smile—it’s all mine now.”

Her lips found your neck one night, brushing the sensitive skin just below your jaw. Her teeth grazed the spot lightly, her body trembling with the restraint it took not to leave a mark—a sign of her claim that only she would know was there.

“I’ll have all of you soon,” she promised, pressing a kiss to your ear. “And when I do, you’ll wonder how you ever lived without me.”

Agatha didn’t just visit you out of obsession—she believed this was her way of grooming you, breaking down your resistance bit by bit. She’d made sure you found her ad, planned every detail of your arrival, and watched with satisfaction as you settled into the life she’d so carefully orchestrated for you.

Her nights of devotion were her reward.

Every brush of her fingers, every whispered promise, was a secret she kept just for the two of you—a bond you weren’t even aware existed.

Unaware of what happened after you closed your eyes each night, you started noticing subtle shifts during the day.

Agatha’s glances lingered longer, her touches more frequent—a brush of her fingers against your wrist as she handed you a mug of tea, the way she smoothed your hair absentmindedly as you passed on the couch. Her presence was overwhelming, intoxicating, but part of you began questioning the growing pull between you two.

You told yourself it was just her confidence, her charm—nothing more. But the strange feelings, the dreams, and her piercing gaze lingered, leaving you flustered, confused, and vulnerable in a way you couldn’t quite name.

You had no idea just how completely Agatha already owned you.

Life with Agatha grew more perplexing as the weeks passed. Your days blurred together in a haze of shared laughter, casual touches that lingered too long, and the peculiar warmth that bubbled beneath the surface every time she looked at you.

Yet, the nights still held the strangest weight.

The dreams persisted, each one more vivid than the last. You felt her hands—a phantom presence sliding over your skin, stroking your hair, tracing patterns along your exposed arms or stomach. Whispers filled the spaces between sleep and waking, soft murmurs that sent shivers racing down your spine even as your mind clung stubbornly to its unconscious state.

More and more, you awoke tangled in your sheets, your heart pounding as if you’d run a marathon. And every time, you felt her presence—Agatha’s scent lingering on your pillow, the faint impression of a figure beside you that vanished when your eyes opened.

One morning, as you sat across from her at breakfast, picking at the edge of your toast, you caught her watching you again. There was something almost predatory in her gaze, as though she were savoring a secret you weren’t yet privy to.

“Sleep okay, darling?” she asked, sipping from her mug.

You froze for a moment, your hand stilling midair as you reached for your coffee. “I—I guess,” you stammered, your cheeks heating under her scrutiny. “I keep having these... weird dreams.”

Agatha tilted her head, curiosity feigned but expertly calculated. “Weird how?”

You shrugged, unsure of how much to share. “They just feel... real. Like someone’s in the room with me.”

Her lips quirked upward in a knowing smile, the corners of her mouth curling like a cat playing with its food. “Do they, now?”

You nodded, unsure if you imagined the flicker of amusement in her eyes.

“Well,” she said after a pause, “maybe it’s just your mind adjusting to a new space. Moving in with someone new can bring out all sorts of feelings. Don’t worry about it too much, sweet thing.”

Her words were meant to reassure, but something about her tone only made you more uneasy.

That night, as you lay curled beneath your blanket, exhaustion threatened to pull you under, but your nerves kept you teetering on the edge of wakefulness. You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was coming—something you couldn’t escape.

It wasn’t long before you fell into a deep, fitful sleep, lulled into submission by a strange comfort you couldn’t explain.

The dreams came swiftly, vivid and disorienting. But this time, the touch wasn’t as ghostly, as faint. This time, it was clear—unmistakable.

The room was thick with the scent of lavender and something darker, something primal. The moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting long shadows across the bed where you lay, your body limp and pliant under the weight of Agatha’s doing. She sat perched on the edge of the mattress, her fingers trailing lazily over your exposed skin, her touch feather-light but deliberate. You were deep in the throes of drugged sleep, your breathing slow and even, completely unaware of the violation unfolding around you.

Agatha’s lips curled into a wicked smile as she leaned over you, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders like a curtain. “Such a sweet little thing,” she murmured, her voice a low, sultry purr that sent a shiver through the room. Her hand slid beneath the hem of your shirt, her fingers brushing against the soft skin of your stomach. “So innocent. So perfect.”

You stirred faintly, a soft whimper escaping your lips as her touch grew bolder. Agatha’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction as she watched your body respond to her, even in sleep. She leaned down, her lips brushing against your ear. “Shh, darling,” she whispered, her breath hot against your skin. “Mommy’s here. Just let me take care of you.”

Her hand moved higher, cupping your breast through the thin fabric of your shirt. She squeezed gently, her thumb brushing over your nipple, coaxing it to hardness. You moaned softly in your sleep, your body arching into her touch, betraying the pleasure you couldn’t consciously acknowledge. Agatha chuckled darkly, her fingers slipping beneath the fabric to tease your bare skin. “That’s it,” she cooed, her voice dripping with possessive affection. “You’re so good for me, aren’t you? My sweet, helpless little thing.”

Her other hand slid down your body, her fingers tracing the curve of your hip before slipping between your thighs. You gasped in your sleep, your legs parting instinctively as her fingers found the warmth of your core. Agatha’s smile widened, her touch growing more insistent as she explored you, her fingers slick with your arousal. “Look at you,” she murmured, her voice thick with desire. “So wet for me already. You don’t even know what’s happening, do you? But your body knows. It knows who it belongs to.”

She leaned down, her lips brushing against your neck as her fingers worked you, slow and deliberate. “You’re mine,” she whispered, her teeth grazing your skin. “Every part of you. And I’m going to make sure you never forget it.”

Her fingers curled inside you, drawing a soft cry from your lips as your body clenched around her. Agatha’s breath hitched, her own desire flaring as she watched you writhe beneath her touch. “That’s it,” she breathed, her voice trembling with need. “Let go for me, darling. Let mommy make you feel good.”

You moaned again, your hips rocking against her hand as the pleasure built, your body responding to her even in the depths of sleep. Agatha’s lips found yours, her kiss deep and possessive as she claimed you, her tongue sliding into your mouth. She swallowed your cries, her fingers moving faster, pushing you closer to the edge.

When you came, it was with a shuddering gasp, your body trembling as waves of pleasure crashed over you. Agatha held you through it, her lips never leaving yours, her fingers drawing out every last drop of your release. When you finally stilled, she pulled back, her eyes dark with satisfaction as she gazed down at you.

“Such a good girl,” she murmured, her voice soft and adoring. She leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

Agatha’s lips lingered on your forehead, her breath warm and heavy as she pulled back just enough to admire your flushed, trembling form. Your body was still twitching faintly from the aftershocks of your forced release, your chest rising and falling in shallow, uneven breaths. She smiled, a predatory gleam in her eyes as she shifted her weight, her hands moving to the buttons of her blouse. One by one, she undid them, revealing the pale swell of her breasts beneath. Her nipples were already hard, pebbled with arousal, and she let out a soft, satisfied sigh as the cool air brushed against her skin.

“You’re so perfect like this,” she murmured, her voice low and honeyed, dripping with a sickening sweetness. “So soft. So pliant. Just the way I like you.” Her fingers trailed down your cheek, her touch almost tender if not for the possessive hunger burning in her gaze. “You don’t even know what’s happening, do you? Poor thing. But that’s okay. Mommy’s here to take care of you.”

She leaned down, her breasts brushing against your face as she guided your head to her chest. “Open up, darling,” she cooed, her fingers slipping into your mouth to part your lips. You stirred faintly, a soft whimper escaping you as she pressed her nipple against your mouth. “That’s it. Just like that. Take what mommy’s giving you.”

You resisted at first, your body instinctively recoiling from the intrusion, but Agatha held you firmly in place, her will overriding your own. She tutted softly, her fingers tightening in your hair as she forced you to latch onto her. “Don’t be difficult,” she chided, her voice sharp but still laced with that sickening sweetness. “You need this. You need me.”

The moment your lips closed around her nipple, a shudder ran through her, her breath hitching as she felt the pull of your mouth. “Oh, yes,” she moaned, her head tipping back as she rocked her hips against the bed. “Just like that. Such a good girl for mommy.” Her fingers tightened in your hair, holding you in place as she ground herself against the mattress, her own arousal building with every suckle.

You whimpered around her, the taste of her flooding your mouth. It was too much, overwhelming, but Agatha didn’t care. She only moaned louder, her free hand slipping between her thighs as she worked herself to the rhythm of your suckling. “That’s it,” she panted, her voice trembling with need. “Take it all. Drink up, darling. Mommy’s got so much to give you.”

Her fingers moved faster, her hips jerking as she chased her own release, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. “You’re mine,” she hissed, her voice breaking as she came, her body shuddering violently. “Mine. Every part of you. You’ll never escape me.”

When she finally pulled away, her chest heaving, she looked down at you with a satisfied smile, her fingers brushing over your lips. “Such a good girl,” she murmured, her voice soft and adoring. “Mommy’s so proud of you.” She leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead before settling back against the pillows, her arms wrapping around you in a possessive embrace. “Sleep now, darling. Mommy’s got you.”

“I’ll protect you. Love you. No one else will ever know you like I do. No one else deserves you.”

“I’ll make you understand,” Agatha promised, pressing her lips to your temple.

When you finally woke hours later, the room felt heavier, the air clinging to you like a second skin. Your hands trembled as you pulled back the blanket, noticing how it seemed to cling to the faintest remnants of warmth that didn’t belong to you.

You sat up, your heart hammering in your chest. Something was wrong.

Dreams didn’t leave bruises.

As you pulled your shirt down to get dressed, you caught sight of something in the mirror—a faint, purplish mark high on your neck, near the hollow of your throat. Your breath hitched, panic surging through your veins as you stared at the spot.

No.

It wasn’t possible.

You clutched at the mark, your mind racing to explain it. Maybe you scratched yourself in your sleep. Maybe you leaned against something. Maybe—

“Morning,” Agatha’s voice called from the hall, making you jump.

You quickly yanked your shirt higher, covering the mark as she entered the room with her usual confident air, carrying two mugs of coffee. She handed one to you, her fingers brushing against yours in that deliberate way that made your stomach flip.

“You look flustered,” she noted, her eyes sparkling with amusement as they lingered on your throat for a moment too long.

“I’m fine,” you lied quickly, your voice shaky as you avoided her gaze.

Agatha’s smirk widened. “Oh, I’m sure you are, sweetheart,” she said, her tone dripping with knowing. “I bet you slept like a dream.”

The weight of her words sent a chill down your spine.

She knew.

The tension between you and Agatha was palpable, but it wasn’t just in the way she looked at you. It was in every gesture, every word. Every moment she seemed to linger just a bit too long, or touch you just a bit too much.

You tried to push the thoughts away—tried to focus on your work, to put the strange sensations and the feeling of being watched out of your mind. But it was impossible.

You found yourself growing increasingly disoriented, as if the boundaries between dream and reality were starting to blur. The nights were the worst—especially since waking up feeling flushed and disheveled had become an unsettling routine. Sometimes, it was only the sound of Agatha’s low, comforting voice that pulled you from the fog, telling you everything was fine. “You’re just adjusting,” she’d say with a knowing smile. “New place. New rhythm. It’ll settle.”

But it didn’t settle. The weight of the mark on your neck, the growing feeling of being watched, gnawed at you. The marks started to appear more often, always just out of view—hidden beneath your hair or the collar of your shirt—but you could feel them. It was as if Agatha had claimed you, and no matter how much you tried to fight the idea, your body betrayed you.

You could feel her eyes on you constantly, even when she wasn’t in the room. And sometimes, when she was there, it was like the air itself thickened, charged with something you couldn’t understand. The room seemed smaller with her in it, her presence overwhelming, magnetic, like the pull of gravity itself.

It was a Thursday night, and you didn’t take your evening tea. This time, the restless energy felt different—it was as if your skin was too tight, the weight of your thoughts pressing down on you in a way you couldn’t escape. You tossed and turned for hours, but it wasn’t until the soft sound of footsteps in the hallway that you knew.

She was coming.

Your pulse quickened, and you swore you could feel your heart beating in your throat. Agatha’s presence was undeniable.

The door creaked open, and her silhouette appeared in the doorway, framed by the dim light of the hallway. Her expression was unreadable, her gaze trained on you with such intensity that it made your breath hitch in your chest.

“Agatha…” you whispered, the sound thick with a mixture of dread and something darker, something you didn’t want to acknowledge.

She stepped inside without a word, her soft shoes making no noise on the floor. She didn’t need to speak; her mere presence was enough to still the room, to still your mind.

“You don’t have to pretend anymore,” she said softly, her voice the perfect balance of sweetness and something far more dangerous. Her fingers brushed against your hair, a touch so tender it almost made you lean into it. “You know what’s happening. You know what I’m doing.”

Your throat tightened. “What are you talking about?” you tried to ask, but it came out like a plea.

Agatha smirked, moving closer, her body language predatory, her movements slow and deliberate. She gently cupped your face in her hand, forcing you to meet her gaze. “Don’t play coy with me, darling. I’ve given you everything. I’ve been here, every night, for so long...”

You couldn’t pull away from her touch, and though you wanted to shout, to run, your body didn’t listen. You felt caught in her web, helpless to escape. The mark on your neck still burned faintly, a constant reminder of her claim.

“I’ve been patient, haven’t I?” Agatha murmured, her voice dripping with satisfaction. Her thumb ran over your lower lip, the touch so soft, it made your head spin. “But now… now I think you’re finally starting to understand.”

Her lips parted, and before you could react, she closed the distance between you two. Her kiss was slow, methodical, and almost unbearably tender. You should have pulled away. You should have screamed. But instead, you melted into it, the heat of her body overwhelming, pulling you deeper into the spell she’d been weaving.

Agatha broke the kiss with a soft chuckle, her lips hovering just over yours. “You’re mine now, sweetheart. Completely mine.”

The weight of her words settled in your chest like a stone, and as she smiled, a cold shiver ran down your spine. There was no escaping this—no way out. Agatha had been preparing you for this moment, molding you with every touch, every whisper, every night. And now, in this quiet, shadowed room, the truth was undeniable.

She leaned in again, this time her breath hot against your ear. “You’re going to beg me for more soon. I’ll make sure of it.”

You woke the next morning with your head pounding and your body aching in ways you couldn’t explain. Your skin felt too sensitive, like every nerve was firing at once. You blinked a few times, your vision blurry, trying to make sense of the hazy memories that danced at the edges of your mind.

Your neck throbbed where the mark had been—had it always been there? You glanced into the mirror, but the spot was gone. Still, the lingering sensation remained. The faintest trace of her lips, her hands, as though she’d marked you in a way that no physical mark could explain.

You pulled your shirt down quickly, but it wasn’t enough to hide the feeling that something had changed. Something fundamental. You were different now—changed. And it wasn’t just because Agatha’s kiss had stolen all your breath, or because her words still echoed in your ears.

It was because you wanted it.

You wanted her.

The days after that night were nothing short of a blur. The haziness of sleep deprivation and the strangeness of your own body’s responses left you walking around in a fog. But the fog wasn’t just in your head—it was in every room, in every corner. Agatha’s presence lingered everywhere, like a scent you couldn’t wash away, no matter how hard you tried.

The subtle touches were still there—her fingers brushing your wrist when handing you a mug, her breath too close to your ear when passing by. But it wasn’t just her touch that affected you now. It was her gaze. Her eyes followed you, studied you with an intensity that felt like you were being stripped bare, analyzed, and claimed in ways that made your stomach churn and your heart race.

You couldn’t escape it. You didn’t want to.

It was late afternoon when Agatha cornered you in the kitchen. You were drying dishes, your hands still trembling slightly from the events of the previous night, when she casually leaned against the doorframe, watching you.

"You seem distant today," she said, her voice lilting with a mix of concern and amusement. "You haven't been yourself lately."

You glanced up quickly, feeling an electric charge run through you as her eyes met yours. "I’m just tired," you said, but even to your own ears, the excuse sounded hollow, forced.

She smiled softly, a quiet understanding settling in her expression. "I think it’s more than that, darling." Her eyes flicked down to your hands, where you gripped the dish towel a bit too tightly. "You’ve been... distracted. Like something’s on your mind."

You opened your mouth to protest, to deny it, but her gaze held you captive. Her voice dropped lower, smooth and seductive. “I think you know exactly what’s been on your mind. Don’t you?”

Your heart fluttered, an irrational warmth spreading across your chest as her words sank in. “I—” You froze. You couldn’t lie to her anymore. She knew.

“You’re thinking about last night,” she continued, stepping closer, her heels clicking softly against the floor with each step. “About what we did. What I did to you.” Her breath brushed your ear, sending an involuntary shiver through your body. “And you want more, don’t you?”

Your breath caught in your throat. You opened your mouth, but no words came out. The truth—however uncomfortable it was—was right there in the air between you. You did want more. You did. And you hated yourself for it.

“Just say it,” Agatha purred, her lips brushing the sensitive skin of your ear. “Say it, and I’ll make it all go away. Or rather, I’ll make it all come true.”

“I—” You shuddered, a desperate gasp escaping your lips. “I want you.” The admission was soft, but in that quiet kitchen, it felt like a bombshell.

Agatha smiled then, a slow, satisfied curve of her lips. “I knew it.” She stepped even closer, her hand brushing your cheek, her thumb stroking over your lips in a slow, deliberate motion. “You don’t have to be afraid anymore. I’ll take care of you. Always.”

Her lips were on yours before you could react, soft and insistent, and for a moment, all the noise in your head vanished. All the doubts, all the fears—they were gone, drowned out by the overwhelming sensation of her mouth on yours, her hand on your waist, pulling you closer.

It wasn’t like the soft, tentative kiss from the night before. This was something deeper—more consuming. Agatha’s kiss was possessive, hungry, her tongue sliding into your mouth with a certain urgency that sent a jolt through your body. You kissed her back, unable to stop yourself, your hands grasping at her shirt, feeling the heat of her skin through the fabric.

Her hands roamed, exploring the contours of your body, leaving a trail of fire wherever they touched. You moaned softly into her mouth when she cupped your breast, squeezing gently. It was enough to make your knees feel weak, to make your chest tighten with desire.

“You’re so beautiful,” Agatha whispered against your lips, her voice raw and thick with need. “I’ve wanted you for so long. And now, you’re mine. All of you.”

From that moment on, there was no turning back.

The nights grew more intense, more charged with an unspoken tension that neither of you could resist. Agatha took full control—no longer subtle with her touches or her words. No more drugging you. Every night, she came to you, claiming you piece by piece, until your very bones felt like they belonged to her.

But it wasn’t just in the darkness of the night. During the day, her presence haunted you, her eyes never leaving you, her touch always just a second away. She was always there, in every quiet moment, in every shared glance, in every brush of her fingers across your skin.

She’d been patient, waiting for you to surrender, waiting for you to come to her on your own. And now that you had, she was determined to make sure you never left her side.

One night, as you lay in bed, tangled in the sheets after another heated, desperate kiss, Agatha gazed down at you, her fingers tracing idle patterns on your skin.

“I’m going to make sure you never forget who you belong to,” she murmured, her lips brushing against your collarbone. “I won’t let anyone else have you. Not after everything I’ve done.”

The words hit you like a blow to the chest, and though part of you wanted to run, another part—one you couldn’t quite control—felt a twisted sense of relief. You wanted this. You needed this.

And in the quiet of the night, with Agatha above you, holding you with a possessiveness that almost scared you, you knew deep down you weren’t the same person anymore.

You had become hers.

_-_-_

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[rezwrites]

May I request Serial Killer! Agatha x innocent victim! Reader? Agatha falls in love with reader, her next victim. Agatha plans to secretly leave that side of her and start a new life with Reader, but when they both go to spend time together at Agatha's cabin, Reader discovers Agatha's torture room

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, TW: SH, graphic depictions of violence/gore/blood, kidnapping/held hostage, mentions of hunting animals, non sexual/sexual sadism, masochism, somnophilia, fem!bodied reader, strapon, cunilingus, handcuff

a/n: please take caution and do not read if you are uncomfortable with any topics listed.

Schadenfreude noun

Malicious enjoyment derived from observing someone else’s misfortune.

This textbook definition is deeply ingrained into Agatha’s Harkness’s mind. A word she feels that perfectly summarizes her being.

Growing up Agatha was under constant scrutiny and ridicule. Never feeling worthy; How could she when her mother always criticized her for things she did. Even things she hadn’t done. Incessantly, complaining and comparing Agatha to other young women her age, constantly having the highest of expectations. Agatha could be the best in her classes and her mother wouldn’t spare a glance at her, just spat that she could do better.

Agatha was her own person. She could never understand why her mother couldn’t see that and accept her for it.

It was a bitter struggle for Agatha to make or keep friends. Her mother always said that they will find better. Unfortunately, that saying twisted and imbedded itself into Agatha’s psyche, they will always find better.

However, when people close to her experienced some form of tragedy, Agatha would stand there with a deadpanned facial expression unable to curb the elation she felt internally.

She doesn’t try to justify it. She doesn’t think she can.

As the years passed she no longer wished to sit by passively watching bad things happen. She evolved into craving, needing to inflict pain on others to satisfy the burning ache that had been brewing within.

When she’s standing over her victims all those emotions she was denied in childhood had amplified and exploded. Releasing all her frustrations and anger as she works away.

Agatha likes when they beg. Enjoys it, really. When her victims are on their knees pleading for their lives with fat tears falling down their faces. She just stares knowing that’s she’s already locked in their fate, no amount of pleading can or will change that. Then, the next moment the euphoric feeling she gets when she watches the light drain from her victims eyes. Her sadistic, twisted smile the last thing they see. Pride, self appreciation rising as she watched the blood baths she’s created, admiring her artwork.

She enjoys watching the news broadcasts about her victims cases. Tuning in like it’s a daily reality show. In a sense she feels a sort of recognition.

This will sate her bloodlust for a good few months until that itch desperately comes crawling back.

—

Walking into the bank one day to open a new account and make some deposits, Agatha had spotted you. Plastering a smile on her face Agatha approached you, asking for help; you were so eager as did your utmost to assist her. Her eyes narrowed at the slight smile displayed on your face. A disposition Agatha yearns to have, envies it in others. She thought you were so easy, that she could charm you into her clutches. She bet you would scream so prettily for her when her knife sinks deep into your abdomen.

However, when you laughed at one of her jokes, a genuine laugh, one warranting you to cover your mouth to stifle it; it’s like a switch had unexpectedly gone off. She suddenly couldn’t find it in herself to hurt you, despite the incessant urge to hurt something.

Agatha even surprised herself when she didn’t follow you home that night. Of course, she camped out until you got off of work. Closely watching you walk to your car, driving away, but she made her way home in silence. Monotonously crawling into bed Agatha thought about actually getting to know you in a genuine form; a far cry from her usual stalking methods.

Stepping into the bank again for another deposit, a smile on appeared on Agatha face when she saw you. Annoyance flared up seeing that you were with someone else, but she shoved it down waiting on a nearby bench until you were finished.

When you called for the next person Agatha jumped up hastily, a bit of a lilt in her step as she approached the counter. Handing you her paperwork, she observed as you worked away. Your deft fingertips dancing across the keyboard, the minute twitches in your facial muscles as you focus on the screen in front of you.

Reaching out for the receipt Agatha fingers gently brushed over your hand. Pulling her hand away Agatha bit the bullet.

“Would you want to go on a date with me?” She blurted out.

The way your face dropped in shock made Agatha think she was wrong about you. She could see you were thinking of what to say, your eyes mixed with something she can’t place. Pity? Maybe you thought she was a some kind of freak. Agatha’s hands shook at her sides, while her face remained composed. She could feel her stomach drop, along with sweat starting to bead on the back of her neck as she anticipated your rejection.

Your eyes widened realizing you are taking too long to respond, “I’m sorry. That question was just so sudden.” Pulling out a slip of paper you wrote your number down sliding it to her, “I’d love to.”

Now, it was Agatha’s turn to be shocked. She was so used to being rejected, pushed away, discarded. You’re actually giving a her a shot.

—

Like a godsend, you’re her angel. Agatha can’t get enough and much to her delight, neither can you.

Early on in the relationship you noticed that Agatha had to keep her hands busy. Whether that’d be holding on to you anyway she could or dabbling in her little hobbies. Eventually, you convinced her to try painting, easing her worries. Unbeknownst to you that painting helped channel Agatha’s urges.

It always puzzled you why she heavily used various shades of red, but she’s happy when she paints and that’s all you could ask for. She shows you her work as if she was a child showing off a sketch to their parents. Agatha has such a talent you can’t help but to praise her and get the canvases framed.

You also saw how possessive Agatha is towards you. When you two are out together she’s always next to you, holding your hand a little too tightly. When your friends would ask you to hang out Agatha would put on her best puppy eyes to get you to stay with her. If she reluctantly let you go, she’d litter your neck in deep, bruising hickies.

Agatha is hot with a different feeling when you beg. Instead of empowerment, Agatha feels desire, lust. When you so sweetly bat your lashes at her, grasping at her arms, pleading for her. For her.

“Aggie, I need you,” Effortlessly falls from your lips and she’s on you not a second later. Clumsy and frantically kissing you anywhere she could reach. You just chuckled guiding her lips to yours. Agatha ground her cloth cunt down on your thigh, moaning into your mouth, setting her core alight. Holding on to her hips, you helped her rock herself to orgasm above you.

Agatha tries to curb her sadistic tendencies around you, but when you came to her one day asking her to paddle you, she swore her panties were immediately soaked. That night with you perched on her lap, instructing her to use the back of her hairbrush, that first swing resulting your pleased whines, she felt liberated. Each hit she made was harder than the last, her clit tingling with each smack that resounded. Your own wetness shimmering on your inner thighs.

She does get you to scream for her, eventually. Though instead of her knife, it’s her strap sinking into your greedy pussy as you pull her towards you. Excitement licking up Agatha’s spine as she tightened the straps of the newly purchased harness. Slowly thrusting her hips trying to find your sweet spot. Her face pressed into the crook of your neck taking in your scent. Listening to you melodically chant her name as if it’s a prayer, an anchor to keep you on earth as she works you through intense orgasm after orgasm. In the haze of the afterglow you cling to her as if she’ll disappear in a moments notice.

She admires your form as you sleep next to her. Softly kissing your forehead, quietly thanking you for coming into her life. A small smile on your face as you slept, lightly tracing her fingertips over your red, bruising butt cheeks, a little warmth still radiating. Agatha proceeded to climb between your legs, slotting them over her shoulders. Her tongue glides over your cunt licking up your juices. Sucking on your bud, she quickly brought you to the edge of another orgasm, your body convulsing in your slumber.

The next night you had offered to cook dinner for her, since Agatha has a tendency to periodically skip meals. Unfortunately, due to Agatha’s workplace being understaffed she had to stay late. Agatha entered her home near midnight, slow movements with slumped shoulders like she was forcibly dragging herself. Stumbling into her bedroom Agatha eyed you sitting up in her bed, barely fighting your sleep. Shedding her shoes and jewelry Agatha crawled on top of you, resting her face in the crook of your neck. Her hands played at your sides, a slight frown tugging at your lips at her actions.

You’ve come to realize that this is one of her ways of coping with her stress. Many times she came home just to spend the whole night tucked into your side tracing patterns on your skin, unwavering. Sometimes she’ll open up about her problems, and you’ll listen, supporting her but most of the time she’s silent, in her head.

“Do you want to talk it?” You gently inquired.

Agatha remained silent, just pulling you closer to her body. Reaching your arms around her you started running circles on her lower back; you could feel her shoulders instantly relax.

Agatha tensed, pulling away from you. Sitting up she turned around, gazing at the look of confusion on your face. She finally broke the silence, “Let’s go away for a week.”

—

The weather was rapidly plunging as the arranged week approached. What better way to spend it by cuddling with Agatha by the fire in her cabin outside the city.

Agatha had picked you up after work, taking the day off to pack for you both. The car ride was filled with plans of what movie franchises to binge or what to cook for dinner. It wasn’t long before Agatha turned on a solitary dirt road. You awed at the quaint, rustic styled cabin nestled in the middle of the clearing.

The interior emitted a cozy, warmth that immediately enveloped you. Hand knitted blankets lied on the back of the russet couch, along with crocheted pillow covers. Setting down your travel bags you kicked off your shoes, falling on top of the queen-sized bed that sat in the middle of the bedroom. The plush white duvet covered the cool satin sheets hidden underneath.

“Shit.” You heard Agatha grunt loudly. Before you could get up to investigate you heard her footsteps growing louder. Propping yourself up on your elbows, Agatha entered the doorway of the room, a disappointed look on her face, “I forgot something things at the store. There’s a small market not too far away, I’ll go there.”

“I won’t be long.” She called as she walked away from the room. Scampering after her you caught her at the door as she was picking up her keys from the hook. Placing your hands on her shoulders you kissed her cheek, bidding her a see you soon.

Watching her car pull out of the gravel driveway, you decided to surprise her with the fire already started. Padding over to the kitchen you searched the cabinets. The cool tile beneath your feet as you walked around until you found a utility lighter in the island drawer. Striding over to the fireplace, you kneeled pulling open the mesh screen. A frowned tugged at your lips upon seeing no firewood.

Glancing on the sides of the fireplace you saw nothing but a short, neat stack of newspaper beside the pokers. Agatha had told you she came up here to chop some before the trip, now it’s just the matter of finding where she put it.

You stood up, thinking of where she could’ve stored the wood. Across from the kitchen you spotted a door that was slightly ajar. Opening the door you noted that it was unusually heavy, and thicker than the others.

Flicking the light switch you descended the staircase into the basement, the smell of rusted iron invading your sense. The stench made your eyes tear up at the smallest inhale. Pulling up the collar of your shirt you used it to cover your nose to prevent the odor from making you retch. Reaching the bottom of the stairs you glanced along the walls, shoulders dropping from no sign of any firewood.

A wooden table was pushed against the back wall. Dark spots were splattered across the table top, various knives and carving tools hung above it. A small rack along the right wall was filled to the brim with multiple seasonings, gloves, and an assortment of cleaning agents at the bottom; a deep freezer right next to it. Eyeing the black streaks that ran down the metal legs of the table, you stumbled backwards.

“Come upstairs.” You gasped jumping back, grasping at your chest in an attempt to soothe your pounding heart. Turning your head you spotted Agatha at the top of the stairs, her hand gripping the doorknob tightly.

Slowly trodding up the steps and out the basement, Agatha closed the door behind you. “Agatha what is-”

“When I’m up here for a while, l’ll hunt the local wildlife. I didn’t have to time to do a thorough clean down there.” Agatha remained stiff, her voice coming off coarse. The muscles in her neck were twitching, her hands rigidly falling to her side, fingers flexing.

“I was just looking for the firewood. I thought maybe it would be down there. I didn’t mean to snoop,” you apologized.

Nodding, she acknowledged your statement pointing to the screened porch on the other side of the cabin.

Finally, retrieving the firewood you returned to the living room. In the kitchen Agatha was chopping vegetables, her jaw set as she focused. Setting up some logs on the grate you grabbed a newspaper, tearing off enough to make sufficient kindling.

Lighting the fire, you closed the screen. Walking back to the kitchen you cleared the island of the few grocery bags Agatha had left. The succulent aroma of the kitchen was much better than the basement.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” You rested your elbow on the island, cheek in your palm.

“Just sit down and look pretty for me,” Agatha threw a smile over her shoulder, motioning to the couch, “Dinner will be ready soon.”

—

The evening passed quietly. After dinner Agatha moved the coffee table out the way of the sofa, pulling the sofa closer to the fire. Picking a movie you lied back Agatha embracing you, holding you close.

As the movie progressed Agatha hands inched up underneath your shirt, coming up to cup your breast. Every now and then she giving you little pecks in the crook of your neck. Hearing Agatha’s breathing even out your gut twisted. Something felt off. Your mind went back to the basement, the black streaks running down the table. Shoving the feeling aside you tried to ignore them, only chalking it up to Agatha’s claim of hunting animals.

At some point you must have fell asleep. Waking up to the flat ceiling of the bedroom rather than the sloped one in the living room. Turning your head Agatha was sound asleep next to you. That pit in your stomach only got heavier as you laid there. Even if you were overthinking and everything was fine, that it was just blood from animals, you weren’t going back to sleep until you found out.

You took your time quietly climbing out of bed, to avoid waking Agatha. Guilt gnawed at you for invading her privacy, not trusting her, but curiosity got the better of you. Slipping down the hallway and across the living room you stood before the basement door once again.

Slinking down the stairs, the smells was not as pungent as before, luckily. Creeping closer to the blood stained table, sure enough there were scattered tufts of animal furs trapped between the splintered wood. Sighing, you started back towards the stairs, stopping in your tracks seeing a metal door on the far side of the room, below the staircase. That pit in your stomach returning again, sinking deeper, heavier as you inched closer to the door.

please just be a storage closet, you mentally chanted, repeatedly.

Opening the door, the sight that met you had your throat tightening in horror. There’s no way that Agatha, your Agatha, could have done this.

Dried, bloody sickles, scalpels, daggers and other weapons. Pictures of people that had gone missing in recent years before they were taken, matched with Polaroids of their decrepit, mangled bodies. Trophies like jewelry or licenses were hung next to the pictures.

A small pool of blood in the corner of the closet caused your stomach to knot. The back of your shirt was harshly yanked, the door closing in front of you with a loud slam. Your back slammed against the door, your eyes meet Agatha’s. A fire raging behind her azure orbs.

“Why the fuck are you down here, again!?” She roared, hitting the door next to your head.

Agatha had never raised her voice at you, it only elevated the situation more. Your heart was beating so fast it deafened your hearing.

Tears prickled your eyes as you pleaded, “Agatha. Please. Please don’t hurt me.”

Her shoulders fell as backed away from you. Her eyes full of hurt, in disbelief that you would ever think that, “Baby, I- i would never.”

Sliding down to the floor you looked up at her. The terror evident in your eyes, your breathing heavy.

She tried approaching you like you were a wounded animal, but you only coward away. Towering over you her hands twitched at her side. Teary eyed Agatha swayed from one foot to the other before collapsing to her knees in front of you, face falling into her hands, ”I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to find out. I was trying to be good,” she gritted out like she was physically hurting, “I’m trying to be good. For you.”

Your eyes widened. Agatha looked like a mad woman, clawing at her shoulders tears flowing down her cheeks. In this moment you are afraid of her, not knowing what could set her off, if she saw you any more terrified it might make her tick. Taking a deep breath you did your best to compose yourself.

“Agatha, I can see you want to get better. I want to help you.” You swallowed reaching out to cup her face, her tears wetting your fingers as they slid down her face. Her features relaxed upon feeling your hands. Bringing her hands up to your wrists, she pressed herself into your chest. Shakily, you wrapped your arms around her, “Let’s go back to bed. We can talk about this in the morning.”

You can not keep this to yourself. Knowing that the guilt by association and remorse will consume your entire being until you burst. The fact that you now know the very person that is culpable of all those crimes. That’s she’s ruined so many lives and families, still denying justice from them. You just needed to safely bide your time until you could get away.

Agatha pulled away from you, a hard look casted on her face. She stared at your eyes as if she was trying to pry into your thoughts.

“You can help me, you will. All I need is you by my side.” Agatha abruptly stood up, dragging you with her.

“Wh- ugh,” your world upside down as you were slung over Agatha shoulder. Her steps heavy and decisive as she climbed up the stairs and across the cabin. Landing on the mattress the whole room was spinning.

Before you could collect your bearings heard the clinking and registered you arm being raised above your head. Cool metal snuggly wrapped around your wrist you finger touching the brass of the bed frame. When your vision clarified Agatha was standing above you with her head tilted, observing you.

You lied there sobbing, chest heaving, fighting against the cold metal of the cuff. Agatha tucked herself into your side, hand splaying across your sternum. observing the tears streaming down your face.

“Other than this, I’ve never given you a reason not to trust me, right?” Agatha planted a languid kiss on your cheek, licking your salt tears from her lips, “It will all be okay.”

[citrus-library]

𝐎𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ☁︎︎༅

-> Agatha Harkness x Fem!Reader [Drabble]

TW: Manhandling, overstimulation, faux sympathy, mild degradation, praise, strap-on sex.

MINORS, DO NOT INTERACT. 18+ ONLY.

✵❧𖦹☙✵

Hot breath tickled your ear as another orgasm washed over you, your legs trembling. The counter was cool against your cheek while you bent over. Agatha’s strap abused your sweet spot, sloppily pounding in and out.

Porngraphic moans echoed throughout the kitchen as she fucked you harder, and a low whine escaped your lips when a thumb started circling your clit. “Please, I can’t cum again, it’s too much,” you tried to beg.

“Yes you can, sweet girl,” Agatha cooed into your ear, her thumb pressing down on your slippery clit. A string of juices hung from your used cunt, dripping onto the tile floor. “Oh poor thing, your pussy is just begging for it, isn’t she?”

Your face flushed at the degradation. You could feel another orgasm approaching as Agatha applied more pressure to your throbbing button, and your pussy clenched around her strap.

“I can barely pull out, you’re gripping me so hard,” Agatha groaned into your ear, one of her hands leaving your forearm to firmly tug on your hair. “Are you going to make a mess again? Make another dirty mess on the floor for me?”

Humiliation pooled in your stomach as you nodded desperately, your hips bucking. “Yes, I’m going to make such a big mess for you,” you moaned as your peak hit you.

Agatha helped you ride out your orgasm with steady thrusts, never letting up with the soft touches on your clit. “There we go, such a good girl for me. I knew you’d cum again. You always do, bunny.”

[wandaslittlelove]

Hi I was thinking of some somnophilia between Agatha Harkness x fem Reader? Where they are roommates?

Only if you are comfortable with that -ofc

Roommates

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Reader Warnings: Somno, Dub-con? (Reader kinda gives consent), SMUT 18+ MDNI, Fingering, eating out, I think thats it?

Agatha was on her way to bed when she noticed your door was cracked open. It wasn’t the first time you had left the door to your room open. You did it quite a lot actually. But never have you done it while sleeping. You liked to sleep in only a shirt most of the time so closing the door was just to make sure you didn’t accidentally flash Agatha.

She knows she should walk away. That she should go back to her room and get some sleep. Instead she finds herself slipping quietly into your room. The light from the window beside your bed illuminates your figure as she creeps closer. Your blankets were pushed off to the side and your sleep shirt had risen up exposing your stomach. Agatha takes a deep breath as she looks down at you from the foot of your bed. She can’t help thinking that you look delicious like this. Oh so innocent, not even aware of the danger lurking in the darkness.

Agatha begins crawling onto the bed but pauses as you shift slightly, your shirt slipping right up under your breast. After a few seconds when she's sure you aren't waking up she crawls closer hovering over you. Her hands twitch as she slowly reaches out for you. Her hands resting on your exposed thighs. When she’s sure you aren’t going to wake up she brings her hands up higher to your stomach. Reaching the edge of your shirt she pushes it up past your breasts and she takes a deep breath. Her eyes rack over your breasts. Your nipples are hard from the sudden coldness. She rubs her thumbs over them lightly. Her eyes search your face for any sign of you waking. Leaning down she kisses down the valley of your breasts. She kisses featherlight. She kisses over each mound before taking a nipple into her mouth. She flicks her tongue over the bud a few times before pulling away with a wet pop.

Her eyes trace back down your figure and to your panties. There's a wet spot in the middle of them and she has to suppress a moan at the sight. She wonders if you're dreaming of her. If you’ve wanted this all along.

Slowly she inches your underwear off down your legs exposing your wet pussy to the air. Reaching down she rubs her thumb through your folds and her body shivers in excitement.

“So wet baby. You wanted this huh?” Her voice is soft so as to not disturb your sleep but the lust in her voice is evident. She keeps running her thumb through your folds before she starts to slowly circle your clit. Your brows furrow at the feeling of your body moving slightly. She holds her breath expecting you to wake up and push her away but instead you settle and spread your legs. Still asleep as she continues to toy with your body. 

Pulling away she lays between your legs. Her hands grab your thighs and spread them wider to get a better view. Her mouth kisses your thighs. She can feel herself losing control and before long she's sucking dark purple marks into the skin of your thighs.

Her mouth works its way high until her breath is right on you. Her tongue pokes out of her mouth as she takes the first taste of you. A moan leaves her lips as she closes her eyes. Agatha couldn’t think of a better taste. You were the best thing she's tasted and she was STARVED. Without any more care for you waking up she digs in. Her mouth devours you as she licks and sucks at your pulsing clit. Her mouth works deliciously on you as she brings a finger to circle your entrance and that's when you wake.

You blink in confusion as you feel hands on your thighs and the air on your body. The next thing you noticed was the pleasure you felt. Looking down you let out a moan as you see the mess of brown hair between your legs. Her eyes are already on you as she pushes two fingers into your soaking cunt. 

“A-Agatha what-” You're cut off by another moan when she sucks harshly on your clit. Your hands immediately fly to her hair. You can’t tell if you want to push her away or pull her closer. This was wrong, it was so wrong but you couldn’t help the way your body arched into her touch. The way her thrusting fingers and mouth on you had you getting closer and closer to your release.

Agatha pulled her mouth from you but continued to thrust her fingers as she brought her face up to yours. You could see your slick on her face and the crazed lust in her eyes as she looked at you. 

“I couldn’t help myself. You just looked so delicious” Moans escape your lips as you hold onto any part of her you can. “Tell me to stop and I will baby.” her fingers slow and a loud whine escapes your lips. 

“Don’t stop!” You exclaim just wanting her to make you cum. You’ve wanted this for so long. Wanted her for so long. But you never thought it would happen. But now here she is. Two fingers deep as she builds you up. Sneaking into your room in the middle of the night and taking you. 

Her fingers speed up again as she feels you start to clench around her. Her thumb coming up to rub your clit.

“Cum for me. Make a mess on my hand” The dominance in her voice and the rhythm of her fingers pumping into you push you over the edge. Your back arches and your nails dig into her back as you cum around her fingers. She slows her thrusts as she helps you down from your orgasm.

When she pulls her fingers out of you she pops them into her mouth and a whimper escapes you at the sight of her tasting you. Pulling her fingers out of her mouth she lays beside you her gaze analyzing your face. No words are spoken as you curl into her side. Her hand comes to rest around your waist and pulls you closer. You drift off to sleep in her arms hoping she would be there in the morning. Hoping that this wasn’t a one time thing. Hoping that it wasn’t a dream.

[transboyswitchytales]

'A New Life'

Prompt day 7 : Breeding (NSFW)

Agatha doesn't kill Wanda, no. Instead, the two strike a deal. Agnes will go on playing the 'nosy neighbor', but it will cost Wanda. Of course, Wanda doesn't seem to mind getting her hands a little bloody. And you, poor reader? Well, you get a brand new life....

Agnes x Reader witch (Vouyer Wanda)

Agatha All Along Week 2025

WARNINGS

SEXUAL ASSAULT / Mind Control / Mommy Kink / Breeding Kink / Cum Kink / Forced Impreg / Milk kink / Nursing kink / Non Consent Medical Kink / HORROR / Gore / CUTTING OPEN / Knives / Scalples / Medical equipment / Darkhold ruined Agatha / Agnes is insane / Wanda and Viz Vouyers / Magical Breeding / Shaving / Humiliation / Embaressment / DARK FIC / Dead Dove ; Don't Eat / NOT CONSENSUAL / Psycho / Trapped Reader / Blood Kink / yandere/ UPSETTING ENDING / Past Rio / Talks of Fisting / Talks of past Agatha/Rio/Reader / Wanda and Agnes should never have met / We all hope Rio will save reader / Crying Kink / Victim Blaming / Not Safe or Sane / TRIGGER WARNINGS / Non consent orgy memroy

My Masterlist

My DarkFic MasterList

I am going to hell...

“Well, well, well, Agnes, you picked a good one.” 

You feel groggy…drugged..you blinked a few times, you were aware you were on a..medical bed? Did you have some kind of car accident?

“Wanda, make no mistake. You are here to help me with a spell. After this, our deal stands. You leave my new family alone, my new life… I’ll do the same. You can stay in this distorted spell as long as you want, Superstar.” 

You took a breath and then coughed; your mouth was very dry. You tried to blink again, and you swore you recognized that voice. 

You tried to rub your eyes of the drugged feeling you were consumed by, but your arms were bound. Your adrenaline shot now, and you struggled eyes opening more. 

“Shhh, none of that.” The familiar tone says. 

Your eyes focused more now and you saw her…Agatha Harkness. Your ex wife. You turned to the side to see Rio, but she wasn’t there. Fuck, where was Rio? You’d been with her not long ago.

You gasp and try for your magic. But you look to your hands and see the cuffs have red magic, not Agatha’s magic. Not something you knew, this was…it tasted like..Chaos magic?

“She’s quick, Agnes, you sure you don’t want to share her?” Your head whips around, and you see her; The Scarlet Witch. Your body isn’t responding to you fast enough, but you feel like you’d just seen the killer at the climax of a movie, and now it's your moment to run through the woods. You were about to be the final girl. 

“Well, that’s actually pretty sweet,” Wanda smirks, and you wonder if you’ll survive this. 

“None of tha,t Bunny, you know I’d never let anyone hurt you.” You turn to see Agatha hunched over a cauldron. You could smell something, something so strong, it was almost giving you a contact high. 

“I’m not your Bunny, I haven’t been for a long time now. The people who love me will come looking for me- You know Rio thi-”

“Who’s Rio?” Wanda turns to Agatha who shrugs like she has no idea, only Wanda doesn’t buy it. They’re having a stand off now, trying to breach each others minds. But neither gains any ground. 

“You’ll get a nosebleed if you keep that up, Wanda. I told you everything you need to know. Now do your part, or I won’t let you watch.”

Wanda looked down at you and the thin sheet that was the only thing between her and a show, and decided it was worth not knowing everything. 

You knew better, Agatha would kill the Scarlet Witch once she was done. She’d dismember her in front of you once she’d syphoned the magic. Or worse, Agatha could do so much worse. Agatha was a killer. 

The sickening thing is… you used to help her. You loved Agatha and Rio so much, and you’d turned into a murderer too.

But that was so long ago. 

And you’d helped make Nicky. Oh god, and now you knew what a sicko Agatha was. After Nicky died, you ran away. You’d heard that Agatha was hunting you down, but it had been so long ago. 

You thought maybe Agatha had moved on.

Fat fucking chance. 

Rio and you had reconciled…where the hell was your sane wife?

Agatha came over with a small bowl, and you didn’t need to look inside. You knew whatever it was was wrong, all wrong. 

You’d made Nicky out of love, no spell, no incantation. 

But now you were afraid of Agatha Harkness, sure you would always remember the things she did to you, to your heart, to your mind, and to your body. Fuck the sex was something you’d never reach again. Being in between Rio and Agatha was close to heavenly. 

But you’d never love Agatha again, you repeated this fact but something about seeing the witch was making you wonder if that was possible. 

“So what’s the plan, Agnes?” You played along with her fake name, and she smiled at you, entertained, but you trying to placate her. 

“Wanda’s Chaos magic is going to do what the Darkhold couldn’t my Sweet. We’re going to be a family again.”

This was a nightmare. 

“You can’t do that, we-”

“Oh, you’ll find this is a little different then before. Turns out the Scarlet Witch and the Darkhold together, well that’s how I’ll make you a Mama again!” Agnes has something in her eyes that you know is pure madness. The Darkhold had swallowed all the ability to love, a healthy love that is. Agatha was so sick now. 

Wanda came around to your left side of the bed and she put her finger against your temple and you screamed in pain. She was gutting your mind, taking memories out one by one.  

“Don’t worry, you’ll lose all sense of self. All you’ll remember is how much you love me. But first, I need you to be aware of what I’m doing.” Agatha whispered, and her sharp nails trailed up your arm. She came to the end of the hospital table and then pulled stirrups out, and you couldn’t fight.

Not as Wanda pushed her red magic into your mind. 

They easily laid you bare, cold and naked, and then strapped your ankles in, you felt all ability to move your body leave you. Though you could still feel Agatha’s nails as they traced your inner thighs and then down to your bare cunt. 

“I see you haven’t shaved recently, you know how I always loved doing it for you. You must have known Mommy was coming.” Agatha told you, and Wanda moaned at the nickname. 

You wished you hadn’t once told Agatha how much you liked the name in bed, now it would forever haunt you. You wanted to kick this distorted stand in of your ex in the face. Agnes..whoever the fuck this lie Agatha made was. She was wearing 50’s clothes and a warped hair style, not very Agatha. And Wanda was matching, it looked a little like you’d stepped inside of a retro tv show. 

Agatha smiles as she reads you, Wanda is quickly getting rid of your memories of Rio. Your ability to remember the horrible things Agatha said to you before you all broke up.  

You have no fight in your body. But you want to roll your eyes. You want to slap her. 

“Oh, Wanda, be a dear, I want to hear my wife speak at least.” Agatha corrected Wanda’s action. You gasped as your words returned. 

“You can’t do this. YOU LOVED ME REMEMBER! Don’t do this! Let’s talk about it!” You scream, and Agatha just seems amused by your fight. 

“Oh, Hon, I do love you. But you ran away, and that means you are going to feel every cut I make.” Agatha shakes her head in delight with a sinister smile. 

Wanda walks over to push a table with medical instruments closer. The metal speculum, a set up for an IV, needles, and a small medical shaving kit are just some of what you see. You gulp when you see the different sizes of scalples. Agatha and Rio had always loved slicing you open, and now you knew there would be no safe word. 

“Please, come on. You know I al-”

“Shhh, shhh, you know me better than that. You think some pretty lies are going to change my mind, I have a prize to win Angel..” Agatha says and she spreads your pussy lips and leans down to lick. Like she’s tasting her favorite wine that had just been restocked. You try not to respond, but you gasp and whimper at her talented mouth. Oh god, you remember her mouth. 

Agnes giggles like you’d expect in that stupid 50’s outfit. Whatever this character was, something in Agatha was broken. 

“Oh sweetie, no one touches you like me isn’t that right?” 

You try to remember other lovers and you find…you can’t.

You don’t respond and Agnes grabs and scalpel and she let’s the cool side of the blade touch the tip of your clit and you scream not wanting her to cut. Understanding the threat very clearly.  

“NO ONE TOUCHES ME LIKE YOU! I MISSED YOU!” You feel bile rising, but you say it and Agatha grins again. Her dark lipstick slightly smudged from licking your pussy.  

“That’s a good girl. You are always Mommy’s good girl. Now, Auntie Wanda I’ll take the shaving kit.” Agatha instructs and you do remember doing this a lot. 

You curse and close your eyes, not able to watch what is coming. In the past Agatha would have spanked you for closing your eyes, but it seemed that she didn’t mind in this moment. So you closed your eyes and begged every Goddess you could think of for help. 

But as you thought of magic…you had a hard time remembering how to channel it. 

Your eyes are tight as Agnes lathers your pussy lips all the way down to your ass. Then your mound and you feel all eyes on your cunt. You wonder why the fuck Wanda wants to be apart of this. But you don’t know if an answer would make you feel better. 

There’s something so intimate about being shaved. You’d loved when Aggie had done it before a kinky scene. It put you in a submissive mindset and Aggie used to go so slow with the blade up your lips. She’d let the tip of the blade threaten your skin, but she never cut you while shaving. Her blue eyes finding yours after each pass, like she knew what power she had. 

You can’t look now, it’s too humiliating. 

You keep your eyes screwed shut the whole time this ‘Agnes’ shaves you. You feel the cool of the straight razor, and you don’t have to look to know it’s the one you’d gifted her. The one she used for decades to shave you before sex. You didn’t want to see it and it’s stupid engraved handle. What a fool you had been, and now you’d pay the ultimate price. 

Wanda would whisper to Agatha ‘so pretty.’ And Agatha would respond by kissing your thighs and knees, complimenting your body. You wondered if you could leave your body through meditation. 

But when the last of your hair was shaved, you were clear that Agnes was taking her damn time; she was going to enjoy every part of this. Before Wanda stole your mind away, and made you a good 50’s housewife. You would knit and do book club. A whole different you would be in there. 

A towle wiped away all of the shaving cream and your pussy felt sensetive from the contact. 

There were sounds of them re-erranging things. You tried to reason with yourself to open your eyes. But it was too scary to be honest. 

“Wanda put some gloves on.”Agatha says and you still don’t look. 

“You aren’t wearing any?” Wanda whines, obviously wanting to feel what was happening. But whatever they agreed upon outside of this room…Wanda wasn’t listening to the instructions. 

Agatha growled and you felt the fear. 

“I’ve missed the feel of my wife's blood on me. But you won’t get that feeling, not ever. You are here to assist, nothing more.” Agatha reminded her. 

“No fun neighbor.” Wanda pouted. 

“Open your eyes baby girl.”

You don’t and then a fast slap falls on your freshly shaved cunt and your eyes pop open. It stings twice as bad with you so raw. You gasp for air at the uncomfortable feeling, and Agatha smiles knowing that is the least of the pain to come. 

You don’t like her happy face staring down at you in strapped in stirrups. 

“Someone will find me.” You tried to threaten, realizing that..someone loved you, right? You could sorta see her eyes… 

The sound of Wanda’s latex gloves snapping around her wrists is deafening. And Agatha looks at you like you’d just said something funny.

“No one will ever find you. No one will, Bun. But you’ll be so gorgeous as your breasts fill and your stomach swells. Rio’s magic is why he didn’t survive, why he got sick. But with Chaos Magic and the love of my life, well..We’ll be a family again. And once we have our first daughter, I’ll bring you here again. I think the 50s idea of a big happy family will be a good storyline for Wanda. We’ll be the longest running show in history.” Agatha whispers as her fingers trace a small scar she’d made almost a century ago with a knife, she’d cut too hard into your hip. Now you wondered if it had been an accident at all. Had she alwasy been like this? Who was Rio? Show?

“Big family?” You repeat the words, though they taste rancid in your mouth. 

“Well, we are going to be a nuclear family, my love. That’s the show! Then I’ll help Wanda with the technical magic of the Darkhold, and she can have the children she’s always dreamed with Vision.”

You didn’t know who Vision was, but you had to warn him. This was what people must have felt like in the Twilight Zone. Agatha just muses on with her evil plan.  

“Perhaps we can try for twins this time, if it sticks, we’ll give Wanda the same. Oh, your cunt will be so wrecked. But you never could take my fist…and after our third you’ll be able to take both my fists!” Agatha coo’s and you wish you could spit in her face, but the need to give in was nagging like a rodent in the trash at the back of your mind. Wanda’s magic had taken root and was growing.

Agnes took a scalpel again, and you opened your mouth to beg, knowing it was futile.

“Don’t worry, Bunny, this will only hurt…a lot. But perhaps this will be a reminder, don’t ever run away from me again.” Agatha’s face morphed into that of disdain, and you knew what happened next would have blood.

Her scalpel sliced into the space just below your stomach, and you screamed in pain. The flesh separating was enough for you to need to vomit. And you couldn’t look away. 

Wanda whispered magic, and so did Agatha as she sliced Runes you’d never seen before into you. They had to be from the Darkhold, unclean Runes for horrendous acts. 

You wondered if you were about to have Rosemary’s Baby. Would it have horns? Would it have Agatha’s magic? 

Your eyes were producing tears, but you couldn’t tighten any of your muscles, you lay there limply. 

But your pain started to feel…tingly?

Agatha stopped slicing, and she handed Wanda the bloody blade. Wanda instantly brought it to her lips to tase and Agatha scolded her:

“Not my wife, no tasting. You are to assist, or I’ll change the fine print of our deal and turn Vision into a Foreman Grill in the next decade.” Agatha threatened, and Wanda soured and dropped the blade into the sterile table. 

You were panting between the pain and..other sensation?

Agatha's hand reached out like a surgeo,n and Wanda gave the witch the small bowl of whatever was in the potion. She mixed it with the blood on your stomach, smearing it around like some sort of fucked up finger painting. 

You hissed as her fingers bumped every tender edge of your open flesh. Blood pooled out of the cuts and down your stomach and cunt, making a small dark red seep around your body and on the clinical bed.

You wanted to scream, but part of you didn’t want to give Agatha any more enjoyment. She was punishing you, and you wouldn’t make it more pleasurable for her than it already seemed to be.

“Okay, Bunny pain is over, now the fun part. Auntie Wanda, time for your big show.”

Agatha waved her hand and she was naked, time and changed her body, but she was perhaps even more gorgeous than before. You felt your mind slipping, fuck stop it.

You were bleeding out under your ex-wife turned psychopath. Why was your need to fight leaving your body? You had to fight! Why didn’t you want to leave the bed?

Chaos magic.

You felt Wanda’s fingers once again against your temples and you said goodbye to your free will. 

Agnes nodded for Wanda to begin. 

Agatha licked the blood and the potion off her fingers. Knowing it would help the next part of what she was going to do. The best part of it all.

You saw purple and red in your mind like a flash. 

And the pain left your body, all the anger and hurt..slipped away. 

Agnes smiled at you…that wasn’t her name…was it? No, Ag..Aga…no it was Agnes.

Why were you afraid? You tried to remember tried to recall it. How had you even gotten here? You were making..pie for Agnes only a few minutes ago? Where was your dress?

“Bunny, be a good girl for me,” Agnes said, and you felt fear stil,l but..why? Your wife was naked, that was always a good thing! It must be Friday night! 

Agnes smiled, reading your mind, and she waved a hand, and her pelvis glowed with purple mist. And she focused it and then pushed into your freshly shaved and blood soaked cunt. 

You moaned instantly, and Agnes smiled down at you with such love.

“That’s it baby, give Mommy your filthy moans. If only everyone on the block could hear us, they’d know we were going to have a baby.” Agnes s,aid and it was so dirty, and you tried to reach for her.

“Wanda, let her move” Agnes meant it as a command but her excitement at your obvious desire to touch her was evident. 

Wanda’s red magic glowed as she kept hold of your head. 

You reached out, and Agnes smiled as you grabbed at her shoulders to pull her closer. You were wide open in the stirrups and Agnes magic purple cock pushed against your cervix, ready to explode in your womb. 

Agnes could feel your tight cunt around her pulsing magic. This was better than any other chapter in the Darkhold. 

Your eyes fell up to see Wanda holding your head. Why was your neighbor doing that? Why was she here? You were naked for pete’s sake! 

“No, look at me Bunny. My sweet wife, Wanda’s just helping me get you nice and ready.”

“Oh my stars, for what, Agnes dear?”

“My seed, of course.” Agnes licked her lips, and you eyed them, was that blood all over her mouth? Where did that come from should y- but the idea left and you realized it was just strawberry jam! 

“Lick the strawberry jam off your wife sweetie.” Wanda told you and you leaned up and your tongue traced all along Agnes chin, her lips, the sides of her mouth, her top lip, up to her cheek. Agnes moaned in delight, your hot tongue tracing your own blood. How she’d missed you. 

You loved the taste of the jam and sucked greedily.

You start to help Agnes thrust into you, it’s hard with the stirrups but you meet her cock down and you tighten around her each time. Agnes is giving the deepest animalistic moans. And you know you are being good for her. 

You open your mouth knowing your wife liked you talking dirty. But you weren’t sure where the thoughts had come from. 

“Agnes, make me a Mommy. I need it, fill my womb. Push it all inside of me, I’ll be such a good wife. I can take it honey. Don’t wase a drop of it. Fill me.” You beg her and Agnes eyes turn dark purple and you wonder if she’s always been able to do that, but you aren’t scared. No, why would you be? 

Wanda moans above you but you aren’t paying attention to her, you don’t notice one of her hands leave your temple. You don’t hear her sticking her hand into her panties and masturbating at the sight. 

But something starts to change and you…you blink a few times and your thrusts stop twice. Agnes face turns angry and you blink. 

Wanda’s magic is slipping out of your mind and they don’t notice it for a minute. 

You keep up the facade now, and roll your hips to keep up but you quickly form a thought, Agatha is too blissed out to notice in this moment and Wanda is chasing her rather wet and loud orgasm. But your hand, that they stupidly freed, well it’s able to reach out and grab the scalpel off the table. 

Agatha face turns but it’s too late as you go to slice at your ex throat. You get two centimeters against her throat until her purple magic stops you. 

“AGATHA FUCKING LET ME GO! YOU FUCKING PSYCHO YOU CAN’T IMPREGNATE ME! I’LL NEVER BE YOURS! LET ME GO!” You scream and Wanda’s wet cum soaked hand finds your noggin again and you try so hard to fight it. But you don’t have your magic and your back arches from magic infused pleasure. 

The weapon dropping from your hand. 

The pleasure is probably because that was the last thing Wanda was thinking. And her magic is so powerful but also she has little experience…You feel an orgasm starting and you bare your teeth ready to bite at Agatha’s fucking face-....

“Oh, Agnes you have some jam on your neck.” Your mind clouds and you feel good once more. Your clit is throbbing and you hope your wife will let you cum today, you were so good today. Agnes lets out a happy sigh as her cock pushes your walls. 

“Oh be a good little pregnant rabbit and lick it up for Mommy.” Agnes says and you smile and oblige going to her neck and sucking the sweet treat. 

Agnes eyes glare at Wanda over your shoulder who looks sheepish. But they don’t say anything and you feel Agnes fucking you harder than before. Almost like she’s trying to prove something now. 

“Oh my!” You gasp and Agnes loves your mouth sucking against her neck. But Wanda keeps both her hands on your temples. 

Agnes doesn’t want Wanda to be fucking here, and she was messing it up. Her first time having you again she didn’t want an audience. Even though she knew the rules of getting you pregnant, understood what her future looked like. She would never be rid of the bitch; Scarlet Witch. 

Agnes took a breath and channeled in on the feeling of your body swallowing her cock. And she focused on her goal, instead of the stupid witch. 

“You are going to be such a good Mama again. I’ll fuck you every night. You’ll put the kids to sleep, and I’ll fuck you in our bed. I’ll squeeze your swollen tits and milk will dribble out, and I’ll fill you over and over. You are going to love our life. You will be ready to take me every morning and every night. My pregnant whore.”

You moaned in delight and kept your lips sucking the jam, as it streamed into your mouth. Agnes let out guttural sounds as her hips started to lose rhythm. 

“You’ll never be without Mommy again.” Agnes whispers and then eyes Wanda to let her know it’s time. 

Wanda tries her best to focus and dissolve all of your will power. And she imagines you pregnant with Agnes’s baby, and your stomach starts to glow purple and red. 

And you cry out just as Agnes pushes purple semen deep inside of you. You kiss her thanking her over and over and Agnes has never been happier. 

Wanda’s hands leave your temple. 

Agnes eyes you, reading your mind but all she finds is a sweet wife, named Bunny…who likes pie. And all things that are Agnes.  

Agnes puts a hand onto your stomach and she feels it, a new life. 

______________

EPILOGUE

You sigh in bed as Agnes pulls the sheet off of her head from below. You liked the 70’s a lot. You bent down and kissed Agnes cum soaked face. 

“Mmmm what a delicious breakfast my dear wife made me.” Agnes says and you kiss her over and over. Tasting yourself all over her mouth and chin. But Agness grabs your wrists and pins you to the bed. 

“Agnes! What are you up to silly? Are you reading Playboy again!” You hiss knowing how Agnes sex drive was so high she was always doing naughty new things in your marital bed. But Agnes didn’t answer as she kept her tight hold on you. 

“Bun, I have an idea. Why don’t you try to push me away?” Your wife offers up the thought. 

“Push you away? Why would I do that, your mouth feels so good!”

“It’ll be fun.” Agnes says but you just looked confused, so she sighed irritated and you felt bad. But she dropped one of her hands on your wrist like she’d done almost every day this month. And she took Wanda’s cloud out of your mind. 

You blinked, once, twice, oh shit.

 It was Agatha you attempt to scramble, to try and get free but the witch cackled in delight. She used her magic to tie your wrists and legs and you tried to move your torso away. Scanning the room for an exit.  

“FUCK YOU! HOW LONG HAV-”

“Twelve years, I do this every day though. I miss you Bunny. I love my wife, but I like my prisoner too.” Agatha says and she leans down and kisses between your breasts and you try your best to get away, to no avail.

Then to your horror you move your gaze from her to your abused nipple, your breasts don’t have their previous elasticity…Oh no…No she’d done it? 

“Oh, baby..I love everytime you realize. Yes, we have six children. They’re downstairs watching cartoons. Watch what you do now-” Agatha says and to your horror her tongue licks around your areola and you feel it before you see it. But to see the little bit of white come up..the thick beads of milk. Oh god no. 

Agatha laughs at your mind before she sucks the milk into her mouth and moans. You feel tears start to form and Agatha pulls back and sticks her tongue out so you can see the white creamy liquid on her tongue as gravity starts to make it drip down her face. Before she swallows it and you scream. 

But Agatha slaps you across the face and you stop the noise. 

“Do you want our children to hear you? Stop that, now be a good girl and struggle and cry. I love it when you cry. Then when I’m done, I’ll drop you back into domestic bliss. I know how much you love our new life baby girl.” Agatha says and you bite your lip and tears fall to her giddy delight. 

Agatha bends down and bites the top of your breast so hard blood surfaces and milk shoots out from the pressure and you can’t scream in pain. 

What fucking hell, as Agnes roughly fucks you not caring about the bruises she’d leave or the blood from the bites. 

You tried your best not to scream, in truth Agatha had already sound proofed the room. But she always thought it was fun to watch you battle with your own self control. 

When Agatha was done fucking you, she rode your face and threatened you until your tongue stuck out for her to ride. She recently learned that the threat of being caught made you more complient. Still so weepy, and Agatha loved as you tried to fight off your own orgasms, only to fail. 

When she was all done, sweaty and spent. Agatha lay her weight ontop of your slick body, she didn’t care if she was crushing you. When her breathing finally came normal, Agatha moved so her face hovered just above yours. 

She got closeyou wondered if she was going to bite you, or spit on you. But she smiled a big toothy grin before saying. 

“Nighty night, I’ll see you tomorrow. Unless I decide I want to play with you after dinner tonight. Or maybe at diner? When you are wearing that pretty dress for Wanda’s dinner party. Everytime I get you pregnant I let Vision and Wanda watch, it’s part of our deal. And it’s almost time again for you to be bred. And what better than a little breed party? Vision sits there with Wanda on his cock. I lay you down and lift the spell, and we watch you fight. I don’t bind your wrists or legs. I like you kicking me. But there’s always a moment…where you cum. Even though you say you don’t want it. You still cum around my cock. And I push my seed into your womb again and again. I know you like it, being beneath me….I do want you to know, you are such a good Mama. I promise you that. But in this room…I like to lift the cloud. To see the fear once more.”

A small memory tells you that Agatha isn’t lying. You seem to remember a dinner party at Mrs. Heart’s. She and the rest of the party guests watched as Agatha ripped your dress to shreds with a butcher knife meant for the dinner. Vision quickly fisted his cock into his hands, all the men at the table did, they grunted. As the women watched, obediently touching themselves. Wanda however was scolded by Agatha, as she wanted to ride your face. But wasn’t allowed, Agatha had pushed Wanda’s naked body to the floor in upset. But not before she shot four loads into you. 

Holy shit, was that a nightmare? Or was that really your life?

You move faster than Agatha was expecting, rearing your head back enough to collide it with her nose. 

“FUCK!” She cursed as blood spirted out of her nose and top lip. But you smiled in enjoyment and Agatha grabbed her face. 

“Till death do us part then Agatha?” You say snidely but your captor doesn’t get off of you. And instead she smiles at you, she loves the fight. But you feel the victory is short lived, Agatha opens her mouth letting the blood drip from her nose and gums on to your face. You grimace as it falls into your mouth, the copper taste feels putrid. Agatha just laughs twice and then takes her pointer finger as it glows purple and slowly descends to your forehead and you open your mouth to tell her something but you don’t get a chance. 

And you stare up at Agnes once more. You are released from your bindings as you scurry to help your better half. 

“Oh baby! What happened?” You say, always the doting wife. You go to the first aid ready to help her with the bloody nose. You don’t notice as you run into the bathroom to help your wife. You don’t notice the bites and bruises on your own body. Agnes smiles at the change and she is so happy with your new life. 

Did you get to the end? You ok?

[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.”

[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.

[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

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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.

[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]

Watchful Eyes

PAIRING(s): Professor!Agatha Harkness x Student!Reader

SUMMARY: A student’s admiration for their enigmatic professor spirals into obsession—but the deeper they delve, the more they uncover a dark game they may never escape.

WARNING(s): Dub-Con. Obsession. Manipulation. Possession. Stalking. Toxicity. Power. Control. Age-Gap. SMUT

A/N: More smut! Happy Holidays!

The lecture hall was always quiet before she entered. It was like the air itself held its breath, waiting for her to walk through the door. Professor Agatha Harkness was more than just your teacher. She was an enigma, a force that seemed to exist outside of time, out of reach, untouchable. She moved with an effortless grace that left you breathless every time you saw her. Her dark eyes, sharp and calculating, would briefly flick over you as she began the lecture, and in those moments, you’d feel as if your very soul was being studied.

But it wasn’t just admiration. It wasn’t just fascination. You were obsessed with her. You had been for months. Every moment you spent in class, every fleeting interaction, every look from her—it consumed you. You couldn’t focus on anything else. No other professor, no other student, not even the rest of the world existed for you anymore. Just Agatha.

You would find yourself following her, stalking her every move after class. At first, it was innocent enough. You simply wanted to know where she went after her lectures. What kind of person was she when she wasn’t standing at the front of the classroom, speaking with that confident, almost distant air? It started with casual observations, standing on the fringes of the campus, watching her walk alone through the park after class, her figure framed by the golden light of dusk. But soon, it became an obsession. You would take longer routes home, just to watch her, just to see where she went, who she talked to.

You began leaving her notes—anonymous, of course. Written in the darkest corners of your mind, each word you penned carried the weight of your obsession, but none of it ever gave away the depth of your feelings. You’d slip them under her office door, or leave them tucked into the margins of her books in the library.

At first, you thought it would be enough for her to notice. For her to see you, to understand the quiet adoration that pulsed through you every moment you were in her presence. But as the weeks went by, you began to feel something darker, something sharper. You craved more than her acknowledgment. You craved her. You wanted her, needed her.

You didn’t realize it at first, but she had begun to notice you too. There were glances, lingering just a moment too long. A raised eyebrow when you hesitated during office hours, as if she was waiting for you to say something more. The soft, knowing smile she gave you in the hallway, her eyes flicking to the note you’d slipped under her door only hours earlier. It was subtle, but you could feel it. She was paying attention.

And then, one fateful afternoon, you found yourself standing outside her office once again. This time, your heart was pounding louder than ever before, your mind racing with fantasies of what would happen if you were to step inside and confess everything. The door was ajar, just enough for you to see the soft, warm light spilling into the hallway.

You knocked, breath caught in your throat, and waited. For what, you weren’t sure. But you could already feel the heat of anticipation, your mind filled with a thousand scenarios of what might happen once she let you in.

“Come in,” came her voice, soft, almost reluctant, but unmistakably hers.

You pushed the door open slowly, the heavy wood creaking under your touch. The sight of her standing behind her desk made your pulse race. She looked so much like a goddess in this dim, golden light, her dark eyes watching you with a strange, unreadable intensity.

“Miss [Your Last Name],” Agatha greeted you, her tone calm but strangely tense. “What brings you to my office today?”

You swallowed, stepping into the room. “I—I needed to talk about the last lecture,” you began, your voice shaking slightly. It felt like an excuse, but you couldn’t bring yourself to admit the real reason you were here.

She nodded slowly, her lips curving into a faint smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. There was something about her posture, something about the way she shifted uneasily in her chair, that made you pause. She wasn’t looking at you with the same cool, detached air she usually did. There was… wariness in her gaze.

“Is everything alright, Miss [Your Last Name]?” she asked, her voice smooth but strained.

You frowned, not sure how to respond. The way she was watching you felt different now. She was standing a little straighter, her back stiff, as if she were on alert. Had she… noticed your obsession?

“I just—I wanted to talk about the material,” you said, your words faltering as you saw the flicker of something strange pass through her eyes.

She took a small step back, pressing her palms flat on the desk as if bracing herself. “You’ve been coming around a lot lately,” she remarked, her voice soft, almost hesitant. “I’ve noticed. More than usual. You’ve been… lingering outside my office, following me after class. I—” She faltered, her eyes flicking to the door, as though considering whether or not to close it. “Are you… alright, Miss [Your Last Name]?”

For a moment, you were confused. What was she saying? She sounded—scared.

“Of course I’m alright,” you said, your voice growing louder, more insistent. “I just—” You stopped yourself, unable to say the words out loud. You wanted her. But she seemed distant, afraid of you. Why? Had she realized your obsession? Was she… repulsed?

Agatha took another slow step back, her eyes darting toward the door. She seemed to be calculating something. “I’ve… been meaning to speak to you about your behavior,” she said, her voice trembling ever so slightly. “I’ve noticed how you watch me, how you follow me. It’s not… normal, Miss [Your Last Name]. I’m afraid I have to report this.” Her words were like a slap in the face.

You froze. You had never imagined she would say something like that. The words cut deeper than you could have ever expected.

“I—I’m sorry,” you stammered, your heart thudding painfully in your chest. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” You stepped back, as though she were about to send you away. The reality of the situation was sinking in, and it hurt. She had noticed, and now she was scared of you.

Agatha’s expression softened for a brief second. Then, like a switch being flipped, her features hardened. She straightened, eyes narrowing, lips curling into a slow, deliberate smile.

“No,” she whispered, her voice dark now, the calm exterior gone, replaced by something that felt far more dangerous. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable, Miss [Your Last Name]. You enthralled me. All this time, I’ve been watching you too.”

You blinked, confusion clouding your mind. What? What was she talking about?

Agatha’s smile widened, an almost predatory gleam in her eyes. “I’ve been watching you just as much as you’ve been watching me. You thought you were the one in control, didn’t you? But I was always the one in control.” Her voice dripped with something darker, something seductive, and it sent a shiver down your spine.

Your breath caught in your throat. “W-what do you mean?”

She leaned in closer, her lips brushing your ear. “I let you play your little game, Miss [Your Last Name]. I let you think you were the one pulling the strings. But the truth is, you were just a piece of my game all along.”

You could feel your heart thundering in your chest. Was this some sort of twisted joke? Agatha seemed so distant, so terrified of you just moments ago. But now, her presence was overwhelming, suffocating. It was clear now that she had been playing a far darker game than you could ever comprehend.

She cupped your chin in her hand, tilting your face toward hers. “You thought you were the predator. You thought you were the one stalking me. But in reality, you were always mine.” Her lips pressed lightly against your ear, her voice dropping lower. “And now… now I think it’s time to finish what we started.”

The twist of her hand as she pulled you closer left you breathless, unable to move, entirely under her control. Her obsession with you had been simmering beneath the surface this entire time, and you were just too blind to see it.

As you were pulled into her grasp, the realization hit you like a shockwave—You had never been the one in control.

Agatha’s hand lingered at the edge of your jaw, firm but teasing. Her smile widened as you trembled, her gray eyes locked onto yours like a hawk sizing up its prey. It was as though the world had collapsed inward, leaving just the two of you in the oppressive, stifling silence of her office.

“I’ve been patient with you, darling,” she murmured, her tone syrupy but laced with a razor’s edge. “Watching you unravel, watching you think you had the upper hand… it was delicious. But now I think it’s time I stopped playing along.”

Her confession pierced your chest like a dagger. Your knees felt weak, and you stumbled back, only to find yourself trapped between the door and her looming presence.

“You knew?” The words slipped out in a whisper, small and broken.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she laughed softly, the sound rich and velvety, dripping with dark amusement. “Of course I knew. Did you really think you could follow me, linger around my office, and flood my desk with your little letters without me noticing? You were never subtle. But that’s what made it fun.”

Fun? Her words were mocking, taunting. Your obsession, the thing that consumed you for months, the thing you thought was hidden deep beneath layers of careful secrecy—she had known all along and had let you indulge in your madness.

“But you…” you stuttered, your mind struggling to piece together the fragmented truths unfolding before you. “You acted like you were scared—like I was…”

Her head tilted, that soft smirk never wavering. “Oh, I played the victim beautifully, didn’t I? Just enough fear, just enough hesitation to make you think you had the upper hand. People like you—people so desperate, so reckless—fall apart when they think they’re in control.” She leaned closer, her voice soft and sinister. “And you fell apart perfectly.”

Your breath hitched. She wasn’t just acknowledging your obsession—she was savoring it, as if every twisted act of devotion you’d shown her had been part of some elaborate game.

“Why?” The question escaped your lips before you could stop it. You hated how weak it sounded, how small you felt under her intense, unrelenting gaze.

She reached out, brushing her fingers lightly against your cheek, her touch both chilling and electrifying. “Because I wanted you,” she said simply, as though it was the most natural answer in the world. “From the moment I saw you in class, sitting there with that mix of fear and fascination in your eyes, I knew. I could feel the weight of your thoughts every time you looked at me. It was intoxicating.”

Your stomach twisted, the realization slowly dawning. She hadn’t just been aware of your obsession—she had wanted it. Encouraged it.

“You thought you were the one losing control,” she continued, her voice growing darker, “but really, I’ve been guiding you the entire time. Feeding your obsession, letting you think you were pulling me into your web, when it was my web all along.”

You shook your head, your mind screaming at you to push her away, to run, but your body was frozen. Every muscle, every nerve seemed to betray you under the weight of her presence.

“I could’ve stopped you at any moment,” she purred, her hand sliding to your throat, resting there lightly. “But where’s the fun in that? Watching you spiral deeper, watching you stumble closer to me—it was addictive.” Her grip tightened, just slightly, enough to make your breath catch. “You’re addictive.”

You tried to speak, tried to protest, but the words were caught in your throat. She was too close now, her breath hot against your skin, her body pressing against yours.

“And now, my darling,” she whispered, her voice dropping to a dangerous low, “you’ve given yourself to me completely. Your secrets, your devotion, your obsession—I own all of it. I own you.”

Her lips brushed your ear, and your stomach flipped. You could feel the power she held over you, the suffocating control she exerted without effort.

“And the best part?” she continued, her tone turning almost gleeful. “You never even saw it coming. You really thought I was afraid of you? Poor, naïve little thing. I’ve had you wrapped around my finger from the very beginning.”

A sudden wave of anger surged through you, a last-ditch effort to break free of her hold. “You’re sick,” you spat, your voice trembling with equal parts fear and defiance.

Her laugh was low and chilling, her fingers tightening just enough to make you gasp. “Oh, my sweet girl,” she cooed, “you’re just as sick as I am. Maybe worse. After all, you started this game. I’m just making sure I win.”

Her grip loosened suddenly, and you stumbled back against the door, your head spinning. The room felt smaller, darker, as if her presence had consumed every bit of air.

“But don’t worry,” she said, her voice soft again, almost soothing, as she stepped closer. “You don’t need to run, my darling. There’s nowhere to go. You’re mine now. Completely.”

She tilted her head, her eyes glinting with a strange, terrifying mix of affection and possession. “And I’m yours,” she added, her voice a whisper. “You just don’t realize yet how much you’ve always been in control.”

Her hand cupped your chin again, pulling you toward her until her lips were almost touching yours. “The question is,” she murmured, her voice barely audible, “how far are you willing to let this go?”

Agatha’s hand on your chin held firm as she tilted your head up to meet her gaze. Her gray eyes were unreadable now, vast and stormy, but with an intensity that made your stomach churn. You opened your mouth to speak—to do something, anything—but no sound escaped.

“Speechless already?” she teased, her lips curving upward as her thumb grazed your jawline. “I thought you liked this game. Don’t tell me you’re scared now.”

“I—” you stammered, your voice catching in your throat. For the first time since this obsession began, you felt the sharp sting of vulnerability. Your skin prickled as a realization crawled through your mind. She wasn’t just obsessed with you. This wasn’t a harmless game of attraction. This was something darker.

You stepped back, pressing yourself against the door as you tried to create some distance. But there was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide from the way she was looking at you—as though you were hers to take, to claim, to keep.

“Scared, my darling?” she asked, her voice soft but taunting, almost pitying. “I don’t blame you. It must be jarring to realize the one you’ve been chasing all this time has been chasing you right back.”

“Stop,” you croaked, your voice weak as your heart pounded against your ribcage. “This isn’t—this isn’t what I wanted.”

She laughed softly, the sound like velvet brushing against glass, sharp and smooth. “Oh, but it is,” she countered, her voice laced with something cruelly sweet. “You wanted me—needed me—so desperately. Don’t deny it now that I’m giving you exactly what you craved.”

“No,” you whispered, shaking your head. Your breathing was shallow, panicked. The reality of her presence, of her predatory gaze, pressed against you like a weight you couldn’t escape.

Her expression softened, and for a fleeting moment, you thought she might actually let you go. But then she stepped closer, her movements slow and deliberate, like a lion stalking a cornered prey.

“I see it in your eyes,” she murmured, brushing a strand of hair from your face. Her touch was gentle, but it sent a cold shiver down your spine. “That fear. That uncertainty. Do you know what I find most fascinating about fear?”

You tried to push her away, but her hand caught your wrist in an iron grip. The softness in her eyes disappeared, replaced by something dark and unrelenting.

“It’s addictive,” she said, her voice low, almost intimate. “It makes you vulnerable, exposes all your deepest, darkest secrets. And you? You’ve already bared everything to me. You belong to me, body and soul.”

Your pulse raced as her words wrapped around you like chains. There was no denying it anymore—she wasn’t just indulging your obsession. She was feeding on it, twisting it into something you couldn’t control.

“Please,” you whispered, the word slipping out before you could stop it.

Agatha tilted her head, studying you like an artist admiring her masterpiece. “Oh, darling,” she cooed, her voice dripping with mock sympathy. “You don’t need to beg. I’ve already decided you’re mine. Forever.”

Her grip on your wrist tightened as she leaned closer, her lips brushing against your ear. “You thought you were stalking me,” she whispered, her breath warm and chilling all at once. “But all this time, I’ve been waiting for you to come closer. To fall right into my arms. And now, my sweet, there’s no escape.”

You tried to pull away, your movements frantic, but she was relentless. Her hand slid down your wrist, pinning it against the door as she loomed over you.

“Why are you doing this?” you demanded, your voice trembling.

Her eyes softened for a brief moment, and she smiled—not the sharp, taunting smirk from before, but something gentler, almost tender. “Because I love you,” she said simply. “More than you’ll ever understand.”

The words sent a wave of terror crashing over you. This wasn’t love. This was obsession—pure, unrelenting, and suffocating.

“But you can’t leave, you know that,” she continued, her tone matter-of-fact now, as if your fate had already been sealed. “I’ve spent too long waiting for you, nurturing this… connection we share. And now that I have you, I’m never letting you go.”

Her lips brushed your temple, her breath ghosting against your skin. “You thought you were in control, but I’ve been ten steps ahead all along. Every glance, every note, every word—it was all leading to this moment.”

“I’ll go to the police,” you spat, the fear in your voice betrayed by the sheer desperation of the words.

She pulled back slightly, and for the first time, her smirk faltered. But it wasn’t fear you saw in her eyes. It was amusement.

“Oh, darling,” she said, chuckling softly. “And tell them what? That you stalked me? Left me unhinged notes? Or that you followed me home and watched me from the shadows like a ghost? No one will believe you. And even if they did—” She paused, her smile turning cruel. “Do you really think I’ll let them take you away from me?”

Tears stung your eyes as the weight of her words sank in. She had thought of everything, planned for every possibility. There was no way out, no escape from her carefully constructed web.

Agatha stepped back slightly, her hand lingering on your wrist as she studied your face. “Don’t cry, my darling,” she said softly, her voice almost soothing. “This isn’t a punishment. It’s a gift. You wanted me, and now you have me. Completely. Isn’t that what you wanted all along?”

You shook your head, your chest tightening as her words wrapped around you like a noose.

Agatha sighed, releasing your wrist but staying close enough that her presence felt suffocating. “You’ll understand, in time,” she murmured. “This is love, in its purest form. And soon, you’ll see that you’re exactly where you’re meant to be. With me. Forever.”

As her words echoed in the suffocating silence, you realized with a growing sense of dread that she meant every word.

Suddenly, Agatha’s lips crashed into yours with a ferocity that left you gasping, her teeth nipping at your bottom lip before her tongue plunged into your mouth. The taste of her was intoxicating—dark, sweet, and dangerous. Her hands gripped your hips, pulling you flush against her, and you could feel the heat of her body through the thin fabric of her blouse. 

She broke the kiss, her breath hot against your skin as she whispered, “You’re mine now, darling. Every inch of you.” Her fingers trailed down your sides, leaving a trail of fire in their wake, before she grabbed the hem of your shirt and yanked it over your head. The cool air of the office hit your skin, but it did nothing to quell the heat building inside you.

Agatha’s eyes raked over your body, her gaze predatory and possessive. “Beautiful,” she murmured, her voice low and husky. She stepped closer, her hands sliding up your sides to cup your breasts, her thumbs brushing over your nipples, making them harden instantly. You gasped, your head falling back as she leaned in to capture one in her mouth, her tongue swirling around the sensitive peak.

Her hands moved to your waist, unbuttoning your pants and sliding them down your legs, leaving you in nothing but your panties. She knelt before you, her hands running up your thighs, her nails digging into your skin just enough to make you whimper. “So wet for me already,” she purred, her breath hot against your core. She hooked her fingers into the waistband of your panties and pulled them down, tossing them aside.

Agatha’s tongue darted out, licking a stripe up your slit, and you moaned, your hands tangling in her hair. She chuckled darkly, her breath ghosting over your sensitive flesh. “You taste divine, darling,” she murmured before diving in, her tongue lapping at your folds, teasing your clit with expert precision. You cried out, your hips bucking against her face as she devoured you, her hands gripping your thighs to keep you in place.

She pulled back, her lips glistening with your arousal, and stood, her eyes locked on yours. You whimpered, your body trembling with need. “Please, stop,” you whispered, your voice shaky.

She smirked, her hands moving to unbutton her blouse, revealing the black lace bra beneath. She shrugged it off, her breasts spilling free, and you couldn’t help but stare. She was perfect, her skin smooth and pale, her nipples hard and begging for attention. She reached behind her, unclasping her bra and letting it fall to the floor.

She leaned in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, her tongue tangling with yours. You moaned into her mouth, your hands gripping her shoulders as she pressed her body against yours.

She broke the kiss, her lips trailing down your neck, leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses in their wake. Her hands moved to your waist, unbuttoning her pants and sliding them down her legs, leaving her in nothing but her black lace panties. She stepped out of them, her body pressed against yours, and you could feel the heat of her core against your thigh.

Agatha’s hand slid between your legs, her fingers teasing your folds before slipping inside you. You gasped, your head falling back as she curled her fingers, hitting that spot inside you that made you see stars.

“Please," you whimpered.

She leaned in, her lips brushing against your ear. "You're mine now," she whispered. "Every inch of you."

You tried to pull away from her, but she held you tight. "No," you whispered, shaking your head. "I can't do this. I can't be yours."

Agatha's hands tightened around your wrists, her nails biting into your skin. She smirked, her eyes gleaming with triumph. "Oh," she purred. "But you're already mine, darling. And nothing is going to change that."

Pressing her body against yours. "I'll never let you go," she whispered, her breath hot against your neck.

And then her lips crushed against yours, her teeth nipping at the bottom of your mouth before she thrust her tongue inside. You whimpered, trying to fight it, but her hold was too strong.

She pulled away, her eyes flashing with anger. "You should be grateful for what I'm doing for you," she snarled. "You should thank me for making you mine."

Panting heavily, her eyes wild with desire. "Tell me," she demanded. "Tell me you're mine."

You shook your head, tears streaming down your cheeks. "Please," you whispered. "Let me go."

Agatha smirked. "Never," she said. And then her lips were back on yours, her tongue demanding entrance.

You tried to fight it, but she was too strong. And soon, your mouth was opening, accepting her tongue. She moaned, her body pressing harder against yours, her hands still holding your wrists above your head.

"You're so perfect," she murmured against your lips. "So perfect for me." She leaned back, her eyes scanning over your body. "You'll be my perfect little pet," she purred, her hand moving to your breast. She pinched your nipple, making you gasp. "I'll train you to do whatever I want," she continued. "Whatever I want, you'll do."

She smiled, her fingers moving down your body to your core. She slipped her fingers inside you, curling them to hit that spot that made you moan. "And I'll make you cum for me," she whispered against your lips. "I'll make you cum so hard."

You tried to protest, but her hand over your mouth stopped you from speaking. She pressed her fingers deeper inside you, hitting that sensitive spot over and over.

You were trying to hold on, but it was impossible. Her fingers were too skilled, too good. You tried to push her away, but she didn't budge. And then the pleasure exploded inside you, making you cum on her fingers.

Agatha pulled her hand away, her fingers glistening with your wetness. She brought her hand to her mouth, sucking your juices off. "Delicious," she purred.

You stood there, shaking from the orgasm and the realization of what just happened. Agatha had taken control of your body, forcing you to submit to her desires.

You had played with fire, and now, you were trapped in the flames. Her flames.

_-_-_

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[harkness-pet]

i’ll be your everything

Pairing: Agatha x fem!reader

Warnings: dark themes, manipulation, kidnapping, abuse of power

Plot: agatha is your therapist, she sees you, fragile, scared, betrayed by the world and your mind, and she becomes obsessed, confident that only she can give you everything you need

MEN AND MINORS DNI!

Dr. Agatha Harkness was known for her calm voice and colder silences. A woman of forty, with elegant hands and wavy long brown hair cascading freely over her shoulders, she’d been a therapist for over two decades. Her office smelled faintly of lavender and paper, and her voice was the kind that made people want to confess, even if it wasn’t the truth.

She first met you on a gray February afternoon. You, in your twenties, wore a black hoodie and sat hunched in the corner of the beige couch as if trying to melt into the seams. You were a tangle of nerves and soft-spoken apologies and eyes that darted around the room like birds in a glass box.

“I don’t sleep,” you murmured during your first session, your voice barely audible. “And when I do, I wake up… feeling worse. Like I’m not real.”

Agatha had leaned forward slightly, palms resting open on her lap. “You are real, Y/N. You’re here, and I’m listening.”

It was the beginning of everything.

Agatha always said she was simply doing her job. That’s what she told herself each night after you left her office, shaky, overwhelmed, but grateful. She took notes, recorded sessions (with consent), and prescribed practical steps for managing your anxiety and depression. But it was more than therapy. You intrigued her - your fragility, the way your hands trembled when you sipped water, the small smiles you offered like rare coins.

Agatha began thinking about you during off-hours. She wondered if you were eating, if your insomnia had worsened. She dreamed of you knocking on her door, seeking comfort. Protection. Dependence.

She knew the ethics. Knew the rules. And she knew how to break them quietly.

As the months went on, your walls softened, then cracked. You started trusting Agatha. Not with everything, not yet, but more than anyone else.

“No one’s ever really listened before,” you confessed one afternoon, staring into the carpet. “I feel like I’m too much for people.”

“You’re not too much,” Agatha said gently. “They just weren’t enough.”

That was the kind of line that lived in Agatha’s mouth like a secret spell. She gave you comfort, validation, and a quiet presence. She made herself necessary.

Each week, Agatha carefully unraveled your ties to the world. Friends who “didn’t understand.” A mother who “never saw you.” Agatha didn’t speak against them directly. She simply tilted the mirror, let you see for herself.

And you, so vulnerable, so starved for affection and safety, began to lean harder.

Your sessions bled into emails. Then texts. Agatha was always available. Midnight anxiety spirals? She answered. Emotional crashes? She was there. You felt seen, maybe for the first time.

The trouble was, you still didn’t trust completely. You still withheld pieces. Sometimes you’d cancel last minute. Sometimes you’d go dark for days. These things stung.

Agatha kept her reactions private. Smiled through the disappointment. But deep inside, something sharp twisted. She needed you to depend on her fully. She had to be the only safe harbor. The only one who truly cared.

So she waited.

One May morning, fate, or something darker, offered Agatha her opportunity.

You ran into each other at a small coffee shop just outside the city. You were sitting alone by the window, looking out at the overcast sky. You looked thinner, paler. As if you’d been slowly disappearing.

“Y/N?” Agatha approached with just the right amount of surprise.

You blinked, surprised but not displeased. “Dr. Harkness. Hi.”

“Call me Agatha,” she said with a warm smile. “Mind if I join you?”

You had coffee. Agatha listened more than she spoke. You talked about a recent panic attack on the train, how you thought you saw someone watching you. Your hands trembled as you recounted it.

“You shouldn’t go home like this,” Agatha said gently, brushing a strand of hair from your forehead. “Why don’t I drive you?”

You hesitated. But Agatha was a lifeline in a storm.

“Okay,” you whispered.

You drove for nearly an hour. Past the city, into the countryside, where the trees thickened and cell signals vanished. You started to fidget. “Where… are we going?”

“My place,” Agatha said with a calm smile. “It’s peaceful. No one can bother you out here. You’ll be safe.”

You frowned. “I thought you were driving me home…”

“I am,” Agatha said softly. “Just not yet. You need rest. Real rest. I’ve prepared a guest room. You can stay as long as you need.”

You didn’t think about the fact that she had the room already prepared for you. 

The house was secluded, surrounded by pines. Agatha opened the door and guided you in. The interior was warm, all soft lighting and cushions and thick rugs. It didn’t feel like a trap.

At first.

Days passed. Then a week.

You stayed, unsure how to leave, unsure if you even wanted to. There was something comforting about Agatha’s constant presence. She cooked for you. Read to you at night. Took your phone “for your own good.”

“It’s just temporary,” Agatha said when you asked about going home. “You need to heal first. You’re not ready for the world out there. It’ll only hurt you again.”

And you, frightened of slipping back into the dark, nodded. Maybe Agatha was right. You did feel safer here.

Agatha tucked you in each night. Sat on the edge of the bed, brushing your hair back, whispering, “You’re not alone anymore. I’ll never leave you.”

But the comfort became stifling. You began to notice things. The way Agatha watched you, always. The way the windows didn’t open. How the front door was locked from the outside. How the landline never worked.

“Agatha,” you said one morning. “I think I need to go home now.”

Agatha’s face darkened, just for a second. Then the smile returned. “Why would you go back to a world that never cared for you? They forgot you the moment you disappeared.”

You stared at her. “That’s not true.”

Agatha crouched beside you, voice low, eyes glinting. “You need me, Y/N. They don’t love you like I do. They never did. But I see you. I always have.”

That night, you tried to escape.

You made it to the edge of the forest before you heard the voice behind you.

“You’ll die out here alone,” Agatha called from the trees. “And no one will even know.”

You turned slowly. Agatha stood holding a lantern, her face calm, serene - like a mother finding a child sleepwalking.

“Come back inside, sweetheart. Let’s not ruin everything.”

And you, trembling, confused, walked back through the woods toward the warm yellow light.

Because maybe Agatha was right.

Maybe the world had never made you feel safe.

Maybe this was the only place you would ever be loved.

~~~

It was raining again, soft, persistent rain that made the windows fog over and the world blur. The fireplace crackled in the living room, casting golden light over the wooden floor and the backs of books that lined every wall.

You sat curled on the couch in one of Agatha’s oversized sweaters, sleeves falling over your hands. You felt small, your body still as the storm outside. Your breath misted against the porcelain cup of tea you hadn’t touched.

Agatha entered the room barefoot, holding a folded blanket. She moved slowly, like someone afraid to wake a sleeping animal.

“You’re cold,” she said softly.

“I’m fine,” you murmured, eyes on the flames.

But Agatha was already kneeling in front of you, the blanket in her lap. Her hands, always gentle, always decisive, rested on your knees. Your whole body tensed under the weight of her touch. Something electric passed through you, a pulse of instinct: move away.

You didn’t.

Agatha began unfolding the blanket with delicate care, tucking it around your legs, smoothing the fabric against your thighs with slow, rhythmic motions. Her hands lingered.

“You don’t have to be afraid,” she said quietly, looking up at you.

“I’m not,” you lied.

Agatha tilted her head, smiling faintly. “I know when you lie.”

You swallowed.

Agatha’s hand moved again, this time resting lightly on your arm. Her thumb brushed along the inside of your wrist, tracing the light scars of cigarette burns, which you created yourself, desperate to feel something… anything. “You’re not that girl anymore,” she whispered. “You’re mine now. I’ll take care of you.”

Your breath hitched, some part of you screaming to pull away, but Agatha’s voice was a net, a velvet trap that lulled you back into stillness.

“You’re so beautiful when you let go,” Agatha murmured. “So soft. So trusting.”

She leaned closer, her face inches from yours. Her fingers slid up, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. Then they stayed, tracing along your jaw, your cheek, the side of your neck.

You shivered. Whether from fear or comfort, you couldn’t tell anymore.

“I need you to know something,” Agatha whispered, her breath warm against your skin. “No one will ever love you the way I do. No one can. They wouldn’t understand what you need. But I do.”

Her hand was on your thigh now, under the blanket, not aggressive, not rushed, just there, possessive in the quietest way. You froze, your thoughts fracturing, heart pounding in a strange, dissonant rhythm.

“I can make it all go quiet,” Agatha said. “Wouldn’t that be nice? Just… peace. Safety. With me.”

You wanted to say no. You thought you did. But your body betrayed you, or maybe your mind did. You didn’t lean in. But you didn’t lean away.

Agatha’s lips touched your temple, a slow press.

“You’re mine,” she whispered again. “And I’ll never let you break.”

And you, trembling beneath the weight of that promise, nodded and let her kiss you on the lips, giving her your consent.

~~~

It was nearly midnight.

The storm outside had faded to a hush of dripping leaves and quiet wind, but inside, the house was still, dimly lit by the low glow of a bedside lamp.

You lay on the edge of the guest bed in one of Agatha’s old T-shirts, your legs pulled up, your arms hugging your knees. You hadn’t asked for your phone again, had stopped asking questions, really. There was a numbness settling in your chest lately. Not peace. Not fear either. Just… quiet.

Agatha knocked once and let herself in, barefoot, carrying a glass of warm milk.

“I thought you might need help sleeping,” she said.

You nodded wordlessly, taking the glass. Your hands shook slightly as she sipped. Agatha sat beside you on the bed, close, but not quite touching.

“You’ve done so well these past few days,” Agatha said. “Your mind isn’t racing anymore. I can see it. You’re calmer. Safer.”

You nodded again, mechanically. “I guess.” You felt weird for saying that, you felt confused by the whole situation, but she was right, you did feel calmer. 

Agatha turned toward you, brushing a bit of hair from your cheek. Her touch lingered this time. She didn't withdraw. Instead, her thumb slid gently along your temple, down to the edge of your jaw.

“You’re holding tension here,” she whispered. “Let me help.”

She guided you to lie back, and without asking, shifted onto the bed beside you, propping herself up on one elbow. Her fingers found your neck, then shoulders, massaging gently. Her movements were slow, methodical.

You closed your eyes, just for a second, and when you opened them, Agatha’s face was closer. Her scent, lavender and warmth, human, was all around you.

“You don’t have to be afraid,” Agatha murmured, her hand drifting to your ribcage, resting there. “You deserve softness. You deserve to be held.”

The moment stretched.

Agatha leaned down, pressing her lips just below your ear. A pause. Then another kiss, softer, at the side of your neck. Her hand moved lower, her breath warm.

You froze.

Something fluttered in your chest, instinct or warning, but your limbs felt heavy, your will dulled. This was the woman who had listened to you when no one else did. Who had pulled you out of the dark. Who whispered safety into your skin.

Agatha kissed you again, this time at the base of your throat. “Let me care for you,” she whispered. “You’re safe here. You’re wanted.”

Her hand moved beneath the fabric of the T-shirt now, over your stomach. Your breath stuttered. You wanted to speak, to say something, but your voice didn’t come. Agatha’s hand was warm. Soothing.

“You don’t have to do anything,” Agatha said. “Just let go. Let me give this to you.”

And you, caught in the thick quiet between need and confusion, closed your eyes, murmuring a quiet “please”.

~~~

Agatha left without warning.

One morning, you woke to silence, not the comforting one you had grown used to, but an absence. The kind of silence that had weight to it. The kind that felt like someone watching from the corner of the room, but no one was there.

No coffee smell. No movement upstairs. Just a folded note on the kitchen table.

“You’re safe. I’ll be back soon. I trust you.”

That was all.

At first, you were relieved. A piece of you that had grown tight with unease loosened. You wandered through the house, through each quiet room, waiting to feel something like freedom. But what you felt instead was unmoored. Empty.

The trees outside were dense, watching. The signal bar on your phone never came back. The front door was no longer locked, but you didn’t go past the porch.

You could have. You told yourself that.

But something in you stilled each time you considered it. What if Agatha came back and found you gone? She had written “I trust you”… You couldn’t leave, betraying the trust of the woman who gave you safety and love and comfort. 

By the second day, you stopped eating much.

The house creaked at night in unfamiliar ways. Your thoughts curled in on themselves. You wandered the halls in Agatha’s sweater, hands tucked into sleeves, heartbeat quickening when you thought you heard footsteps on the gravel drive, only to find nothing.

And by the third night, you sat on the floor of Agatha’s bedroom, back against the bed, knees to your chest, surrounded by that familiar lavender scent. It was the only place you could breathe.

You ran your fingers along the folded comforter, along the edge of the pillow. Your skin remembered Agatha’s touch, the way she spoke with certainty and softness.

The absence became louder.

You started whispering to yourself just to fill the space.

She’ll come back. She always does. She said she loved me. She said I was safe.

And when the door finally creaked open just past midnight, you didn’t jump. You only looked up, eyes wide, tears already rising to the surface.

Agatha stood in the doorway, pale from the moonlight, carrying nothing but herself and that ever-calm expression.

“I missed you,” you whispered before you could stop herself. Your voice cracked.

Agatha crossed the room silently, kneeling in front of you. “You did?”

You nodded.

“I needed to see if you were strong enough without me,” Agatha said, voice low, hand cupping your cheek. “But you weren’t, were you?”

“I tried,” you whispered, eyes closing at the warmth of her touch. “But everything felt wrong. Cold.”

“You belong in my hands,” Agatha murmured. “Only mine.”

You leaned in then, pulling yourself into her lap like a child. You didn’t resist. You melted into her, trembling. And Agatha stroked your back in long, slow movements, humming softly, rocking you.

Her hand drifted beneath the hem of your sweater, fingers gliding up your spine, soothing and familiar and almost sacred.

“You only feel whole when I’m near, don’t you?” she whispered.

You nodded against her neck. Your body betrayed you again, clinging tighter, desperate.

“I don’t know who I am when you’re not here.”

Agatha smiled against your hair, victorious and gentle all at once.

“You don’t have to know,” she said. “I’ll be everything.”

Her hand moved lower now, deliberate, and you only sank deeper into the comfort of that trap.

The forest was quiet that night.

Not the eerie silence that had once unnerved you, but something gentler. A hush, like the world was exhaling. Outside the wide window, the trees stood black against the silver wash of moonlight. Inside, the fire cast soft shadows across the wooden walls.

Agatha’s bedroom smelled like lavender and clean cotton. You lay on the bed, wrapped in a light linen sheet, your breathing slow, your limbs heavy with warmth. You weren’t wearing much, just the slip Agatha had given you,m earlier, pale and thin and soft against your skin.

Agatha sat beside you, brushing your damp hair back with long, unhurried strokes. Her touch was tender. As though you were something fragile made whole again.

“I never wanted to change you,” Agatha whispered, her voice barely more than breath. “I just wanted to show you who you really were beneath all the noise.”

“I think this is who I am,” you murmured. Your voice didn’t shake anymore.

Agatha leaned down, kissing your shoulder, slowly, deliberately. Her lips lingered, warm and unashamed. You didn’t flinch. You closed your eyes.

“I used to be afraid of not being real,” you said. “Of being too much. Of being nothing. But now…”

“Now?” Agatha’s fingers traced down your arm, interlacing with your hand.

“I only feel when you touch me. I only think when I hear your voice.”

Agatha smiled, serene and quiet. “That’s because I’ve made you safe. You don’t have to hold yourself anymore. I’ll do it for you.”

She kissed you again, higher this time, just below your ear, where the pulse fluttered.

There was no resistance. No questioning.

You turned toward her, hands reaching softly for the woman who had once been your anchor and was now your entire world. The sheet slipped down your shoulder, unnoticed. The firelight flickered over bare skin and the slow, trusting curve of your body as it molded to Agatha’s.

You moved together with the silence of people who no longer needed words.

Nothing rushed. Nothing forced.

You pressed your face into Agatha’s neck, inhaling her, the way children bury themselves in blankets to sleep. Your voice, when it came, was little more than a sigh.

“I don’t want to go back.”

“You never have to,” Agatha said, kissing you temple. “The world out there is gone. This is all that’s left.”

And in the hush of that room, in the warmth of Agatha’s arms, you believed her.

You belonged here. In this house. In this silence. In this body that was no longer yours alone.

You smiled, eyes closed, drifting in the kind of stillness that comes not with freedom, but with surrender.