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w4ndal0ver · 24 days ago

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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.”

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a-simple-imagine · 2 months ago

Text

Don't They Know a Rabbit Can't Cry

Synopsis: while travelling the witches' road you're forced to confront the two witches who left you centuries ago without an explanation.

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x fem!reader x Rio Vidal

Words: 2.3k+

WARNINGS - swearing, choking, knives, nightmares, brief mentions of burning and being buried alive and playful use of 'mommy'

A LIFE ONCE LIVED //

It's a quiet evening as you pluck wildflowers in the wake of the setting sun. You would have to head home soon; to avoid the danger of navigating your way back in the dark. The older witch did not like you being out alone at night but you weren't quite done yet. The bouquet had to be perfect. Not that she would ever say otherwise. not to you anyway. Too soft. Too sweet. She had a soft spot for you. They both did. You twist the delicate stem between your fingers. Lavender. Beautiful. Intoxicating. And... hot. Sizzling against the pad of your pointer finger and thumb. And searing into the skin. You drop it quickly. Flames swallowing the single flower. Bizarre. You take another. plucking it from its spot. Flames shoot up from the ground surrounding you entirely. Red hot and roaring as the flowers make way for beautiful flames that dance in the breeze. Creeping closer and closer. Quicker and quicker. Until you feel it burn against your skin.

You jolt up. Sweaty and warm in the night's cold embrace. You're safe. Right now at least. No fire. No nothing. You rub your temple. Just a nightmare. They'd been more frequent as of late. Little flashes of the past engulfed in fiery fury. Fitting. The makeshift campsite was still. The ashes of the small fire dance in the breeze. Witches litter the ground in a moment of respite. You didn't know them but you imagine they're quite desperate. Most weren't brave enough to even dare travel the witches' road anymore. Pushing up you decide to go for a walk. Not far just enough to feel the cool air and calm your heart. Away from prying eyes. There wasn't much around here anyway.

"can't sleep?" it's a startling thing. To hear such a familiar sound so abruptly. It brings with it a quickened heart. A look of surprise. that voice. An unpleasant reminder of the past. That's all this trip seemed to be. A constant trip down memory lane. In many ways, you wish you had never agreed but maybe your darkened heart may still hold a few soft spots.

"just needed a minute alone,"

"That's a dangerous game around here," there is a playfulness to her tone. one that makes your jaw tense.

"can you just go away?" you ask. "I can't- I can't deal with this right now."

"playing hard to get?" just as playful but different. Still familiar. Annoyingly so. "what happened to that sweet girl who brought me flowers every day."

"don't," a threat. You wished not to relive the past right now. Not with them. They didn't deserve to remember you so fondly.

"made us little flower crowns." her voice travelled the woods. Surrounding you from all directions. Trapping you in your spot.

"stop."

"used to bring us fresh bread."

"fuck off," you bite back with an equally sharp turn. Subdued anger began to rise at the mere sight of them. Agatha Harkness. The harbinger of your nightmares. The years had been kind to her appearance but if rumours are to be believed she had a dark reputation. Evil. Soulless. Murderer. Maybe in another lifetime, you would have disagreed. A green witch stood to her side. Far enough away for you to know they weren't on good terms either. She sported a signature smirk you wanted to slap away. Rio Vidal. Infuriating in every conceivable way. They both brought different feelings. Similar but still different. "why can't you just leave me alone?

"we're only checking on you, dear,"

"After such a scary nightmare." Rio teased. "do you need to get in mommy's bed tonight?"

You take a deep breath. Don't raise to her level. Don't give her the satisfaction. It's not quite admitting defeat but you're tired. Falling against a nearby tree. "please leave." you let your head fall back against the bark.

"I'm sure Agatha won't mind,"

"leave the poor girl alone," as always Agatha comes in to mediate. It's always just a little misleading. The woman crouches down before you. Glassy eyes bore into yours and for a moment you're that girl again. The one they remember. Who picked flowers and planned picnics? Ran in the meadow and liked to sit at the edge of the lake. Who held on tight to Agatha's hand as she walked you home. You didn't have much back then. Lived in a small cottage in the woods with your family. The older witch came into your life so abruptly. Looking back on it now she probably just saw a naive girl she could play with. "are you okay?" her question brings you back to reality. The here and now. Stuck on the road with a bunch of washed-up witches and the two people you hate most in the world. Stuck in a never-ending cycle of reliving the past. The end seemed so far away. Who knows if you'll even make it that far with this useless bunch. "do you wanna tell us about it?"

"Agatha," said softly.

"yes, dear?"

"fuck. Off." quiet but firm. You can tell she wasn't expecting it. A little chuckle sounds from behind her. The witch raises.

"fine." Agatha answers. "forgotten how stubborn you can be." your eyes trail after her as she begins to walk away, Rio takes a moment before following. And the question that has been bubbling in your chest for centuries finally comes up.

"Why did you leave me?" they slow to a stop. Yet to turn back. Did you even really want to know the answer? Perhaps it was a question best left unanswered. Years of bitterness already seeped into your bones. Little to be said to make you less angry at them. Less murderous rage. "what did I do?"

"Nothing," Agatha urges. Short and simple. No explanation needed apparently. "don't stay up too late,"

"then why?" you asked again. a little louder. A little firmer. Why was she acting like this? Pretending she cared. It was infuriating.

"Just tell her," Rio presses, turning back to you.

"don't," Agatha places her hand on Rio's shoulder but that doesn't stop the green witch from sulking towards you. A malicious little smile.

"come on, look at her," a knife pointed in your direction as she makes her way over. "just as pitiable as she always has been." she crouches down in front of you much like Agatha had before. But you don't see that girl you once were. Her eyes fill you with anger. It's strange to think you used to admire her so. Used to put flowers in her hair, and she let you. The tip of her blade forces your head up ever so slightly. "A pathetic little girl. Scared of the world," a sharp pain. You swallow hard "scared of anything real."

"Rio," Agatha walks up, towering over you two. "put it away,"

"Why should I?" she wonders. Pressing a little harder. "tell her."

"What happened to you?" Agatha questions. Your eyes flicker up to her. Did she really want to know or was it diversion. "where does this hate come from?"

"you left me," you reply. A loud bark of laughter from Rio as her blade lowers.

"no," the woman shakes her head slowly. "that's... not it."

"boring," Rio groans loudly. "I didn't lie, y'know? I know you don't want to believe me but it's true. Isn't it Agatha?" the woman rises to her feet. Patting the other witch on the shoulder. "we left because you were weak."

"it... it wasn't quite like that," Agatha offers out a hand. You brush it off, standing up. "we thought you'd be better off."

"alone?"

"without us." Agatha corrects. "you were so..." her eyes trail over you. "different back then. You didn't know you were a witch. You were just so..."

"innocent," Rio insists.

"no- well, yes but not in the way you might think. You just needed a push and we were being so careful,"

"soft," Rio interjects once more.

This little game of back-and-forth was cute. But you didn't care. Rio was using it as an excuse to get some sick sense of pleasure from throwing in insults while Agatha was doing anything to avoid saying what she thought. You knew Agatha. She could be just as mean as Rio. "can you get to the point?"

"you already know," you ignore Rio, looking straight at Agatha.

"We wanted to protect you," you can't help but roll your eyes. That was the best excuse she could come up with. Some fairytail bullshit. "felt easier to leave." you glance at Rio who looked just as over it as you did.

"Agatha thought you'd be better off without us. That we shouldn't be dragging you into a world you weren't ready for. Blah blah blah. Too weak to come with us. If we left you wouldn't get caught up in anything bad,"

"Rio was actually the one who didn't want to go,"

"Whatever," she huffs. Her gaze down at the knife in her hand; twisting the edge against the tip of her forefinger. "I thought it'd be worse if we just left you. that it'd fuck with you- we just needed to be harsher."

"but I was right,"

"you were wrong," Rio answers.

"How? I mean look at her," Agatha ushers towards you. "a full-fledged witch. Survived centuries. That's something. You didn't need us."

"do you wanna tell her or should I?" you wonder if Rio is genuine in her question or if this was just another attempt at teasing. This conversation had mainly been between the two of them.

"Tell me what?"

"I wasn't... okay, Agatha," you admit for perhaps the first time ever out loud. Only Rio knows what happened to you in the years between them leaving and the last time you saw her. You made sure of that. The two of them had grand legacies but you wanted to be forgotten in history. Like the legend of Bloody Mary. Not a sole dare speaks your name anymore because who knows what'll happen if you show up.

"oh bunny," a pet name you hadn't heard in a very long time. It almost seemed childish now. Pathetic. "just talk to me."

"you don't care,"

"god do I have to do everything around here," Rio complains. "she was tried as a witch, Agatha. Use your head for once."

"Rio," you huff.

She rolls her eyes. "burned at the stake."

"Rio," you snarl. "stop. I don't wanna talk about it."

"yes you do," she responds sharply. "you want nothing more than to make Agatha Harkness feel guilty for leaving you. Hurt her the way she hurt you." you dart for her in one swift motion. A hand around her neck. The teasing just becoming too much, and you were sick of hearing her talk.

"you hurt me too," you bark, shoving her against the nearest tree. What should be fear is instead a small smirk and dark eyes.

"fiesty," she quips. She knows you won't kill her. You can't.

"you're the only person to ever leave a mark." you resume. "an ugly scar that my body just refuses to heal."

"come on sweet one." you drive a little harder. "make it hurt."

"do you know what it's like to be tied up and buried in a coffin? To slowly suffocate to death over and over and over again," fingernails dig into the skin of her neck. You can see it's having an effect. The wobble in her smile. "the way your body screams for oxygen. Your insides burning with desire but there is nothing you can do?"

"drop her," Agatha's hand reaches your shoulder and your powers kick in. Your free hand waves her away. Energy blasts her backwards and she stumbles to the ground. A lesser witch wouldn't know of Agatha's ability to drain magic but you were smarter than that. careful in your use despite the speed. control what's around her rather than directly blasting her.

"don't touch me," you growl.

"our... little girl... is all grown... up," choked out of Rio's mouth. You watch her grow a little paler. A little more starved for breath. And then you drop her. She crumbles to the floor. "and filled..." she coughs. "with... murderous rage... apparently."

"calm down," Agatha tries from her place on the floor, as she tries to get up. You use your magic to help her up. Leaving her hovering just a few feet off the ground.

"y'know, when they dragged me from bed and burned me at the stake all I could think about was you two. Surely, they didn't just leave without a word. They'll... come back and help me." you can still picture that night. The confusion. the heat. The pain. "you left me," you walk towards Agatha. "and look at you now. The great Agatha Harkness is completely powerless."

"we're sorry, okay- aren't we rio?" rio shrugs a little. With a heavy sigh, you drop Agatha to the ground. "you've come a long way bunny."

"wasn't really a choice,"

"Can we just backtrack a little," the older witch requests. Brushing herself off as she stands back up.

"immortality looks good on you," Rio teases. You hold up a middle finger.

"you're immortal?"

"for the longest time, I thought one of you cursed me with it. Some fucked up way of protecting me. But then I went looking for you. Heard all about your extra circular activities. Witch killer, hiding behind dark magic," Agatha just looks back as you turn to Rio. She knew the story. "Rio was easier to find,"

"should have stayed dead," Rio insisted, the cold metal blade dancing across the scar on your neck. "how easier that would be," you shove her away and she just chuckles. "oh how I missed this," she wonders over to were Agatha is stood.

"I'm going back to sleep," you announce. "let's just leave it at that,"

"Why did you come," Agatha asks. You wonder if it's worth the conversation. The headache of continuing to engage with them. "if you hate me so much?"

"to die," you say eventually as you head back to camp.

// NEXT

#agatha harkness x reader #rio vidal x reader #agatha harkness x rio vidal #agathario #agatha all along

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multimilfs · 2 months ago

Text

Agatha Harkness x Fem!Reader x Rio Vidal: The Prize

Summary: Agatha has been fighting to reclaim her prize from Rio for a long time.

AO3

Included: dark themes, lesbian drama & yearning, near-death experiences, smut; biting, orgasm denial, praise kink, degradation, s&m, blood, fingering, cunnilingus, use of pet names, begging

Words: 9.7k

Tag List: @multifandomfix @ghostsunderstoodmysoul @escapetodreamworld @white--lillies @imtrashinflames

1750

Glowing hands press over the seeping wound, magic swirling around them, diving inside. There’s no satisfaction of watching the flesh knit itself back together. Instead, your magic drifts right back out like smoke.

Oh Goddess.

“Do take your time.” Agatha snaps, voice strained, “I have absolutely no plans.”

Five types of poison are immune to tangible magic. You know antidotes for three. Staring hard at the wound, you look for the blackened edges consistent with Nightrot, finding the flesh as red and irritated as to be expected. Is it swelling or screaming that goes with Alewife’s Revenge? A glance up at her face finds it normal. Her lips are pursed.

Your hands shake, one hovering over the open wound in her middle, the other clutching your head. Remembering has never mattered more so why is your mind empty? Pieces of information slip through your fingers like sand. Dozens of cadavers, hundreds of hours of study; useless.

Unable to rely on your memory, you scramble across the floor for the dagger that’d flown from the wall. The little light coming from the boarded windows prompts the metal to glint. The edge of the blade is sticky with blood, beneath it a metallic sheen that can only be a witches poison. You hold it up to the slant of light to see the color.

“Are you out of your mind? Heal me!”

You drop the dagger the second the poison glints purple. You slap your hand over your mouth, panic beginning to course through your veins; the body’s own special brand of poison.

How are you going to tell her?

“I’m trying!” You snap, voice breaking.

It’s a cruel joke that the poison should be so well matched to the witch bearing its effects. You stare at the edge as it rocks from being dropped, your stomach turning when the color doesn’t change. If only you could be wrong this once.

Were you a lesser witch, you’d curl in a little ball and quail under the weight of your failures. The idea is seductive. Yet, you turn to Agatha where she lies, pale and sweating on the floorboards. The pallor of her skin makes you whimper.

“Agatha,” You start, your voice holding just enough, “it’s Saura’s Dread.”

Things click into place behind her eyes despite the glazed-over look to them. She fights to find a way out of this, but you know well that the reality cannot be avoided.

“Give it to me. You’re wrong.”

“I know poisons better than most.” You hand the dagger over anyway.

“That’s not saying much.”

The comment stings, but you let it slide off you. You cannot give into petty squabbles now. With so little time to find a solution, you have to focus.

She stares hard at the blade as if willing it to change.

“Brew the antidote.”

“I can’t.” You whisper.

There’s a flicker of something in her gaze that looks suspiciously like rage. Your own internal fire leaps to meet it; of all the emotions to look upon you with—rage? As if this is your fault? You’re not the one that dragged her into this old cabin, intent on sifting through the contents.

It’s not your fault. You know that as the truth. Yet, shame floods you.

“You’re a healer.” Agatha spits, “What good are you if you don’t know the antidote?”

“Someone didn’t let me stay with my coven long enough to learn it!”

“The next time someone tries to keep you from me, I’ll let them.”

The fire in your chest ebbs. An old argument at an inconvenient time. There will be no rough makeup sex following this argument, no unspoken apologies in Agatha’s kisses. All the time, all the bodies; they cannot be for nothing. They mean too much.

Fleetingly, you feel pity for your old coven. In their minds they had attempted to do the right thing. Keeping you from Agatha must have seemed reasonable. But you remember how many bodies they made, how pleased it made Her.

Saura’s Dread takes its victim within six hours. This, you know confidently. The demise is slow and painful, a poison intended for torture. You can’t stand to see Agatha in this kind of pain. You’re not ready for her to be just another body.

“I’m calling Her.” You say.

“No.” Agatha counters, “She’ll never let me live it down.”

“You won’t live down anything if you’re dead, Agatha.”

“I won’t die.”

She’s an idiot.

Magic flowing into your fingertips, you trace familiar symbols on the floor. They glow bright and then dim as they wait. Around your neck sits an old, jagged bone, tied by a thread; you use the end of said bone to split your palm and drip blood over the symbols.

Agatha’s mouth is moving, but you don’t listen. You mutter the incantation in latin under your breath. The words—old and comforting—curl your tongue in ways that you’ve only known between two pairs of legs. You end the incantation with the key that gets you around the waiting list; Her name, Her true name.

There’s a blinding flash of light and a puff of fog, but the symbols contain it. You catch the glint of white teeth.

“You rang?”

Rio smiles, clad in darkness and bone and that same beauty that always stops you in your tracks. Upon seeing her, you breathe easier.

“We need your help.”

“You wouldn’t have called so formally if it was quality time you wanted.” Amusement dances in her eyes.

She eyes the symbols on the floor. They no longer glow, but still they contain her. She scuffs a foot along them.

You smudge the symbols and the containment drops. Stepping over the magic as it sinks down into the earth, she catches you by the waist and devours you; lips and teeth and tongue dominating your own, leaving you helpless to do anything but give in. And you’re all too willing to do so.

When she pulls back, you’re breathless. Somewhere in the fray your lip has begun to bleed. Rio soothes her tongue over the wound and you feel it close.

“Hand.”

You offer the demanded appendage, palm up. She places a kiss in the center and licks the blood from her lips.

Rio turns her head to where Agatha has dragged herself to sit against the wall. The rise and fall of her chest is slow, but there. She glares at the two of you. You flush while Rio grins.

“Hi, sweetheart. You look like shit.” Rio says, delighted.

“A side effect.” Agatha grits out, “The same can’t be said for you.”

Rio tilts her head back and laughs. It’s deep and rich and fills you with thoughts that are not appropriate for this situation. The hand on your waist squeezes as if she knows. Then, she releases you.

She crosses to crouch before Agatha, devious smile shifting to something softer. One of her hands works through a lock of Agatha’s hair, brushing it out of her face.

“What did you get yourself into?”

Agatha’s eyes drop to Rio’s lips, but she stays silent.

“Saura’s Dread.” You choke out, shame winding itself tight inside you, “I don’t—I can’t brew the antidote.”

You should have done more to push off Agatha’s agenda; just so you would have finished your research. A few extra days wouldn’t have hurt. They would’ve infuriated Agatha—and Rio by extension—but then you would know the solution instead of watching her slowly wither away.

Rio doesn’t look away from Agatha, but you know the soothing tone is for you, “It’s okay.”

Something passes between the two that you miss. One moment, Rio holds Agatha’s face in her hand, while Agatha—hesitantly—leans into the contact. The next Rio is standing between the two of you, toying with her knife, all business.

You feel a chill pass through you at the unfamiliar territory; staring into Rio’s eyes and finding the affection buried away. It stings more than knowing how you’ve failed.

“You’re asking me for life in a bottle.” Rio says, grinning, “What do I get in return?”

Short of knowing that Rio would fix it should you ask, you find yourself shamefully bereft of anything with value. You search the space for anything to bargain with. Agatha’s eyes should be looking at you with knowing, but her gaze doesn’t leave Rio.

When Agatha tilts her head and grins, turning on the bedroom eyes, you pause.

“What you’ve wanted for years.” Agatha says, “Brew me a little potion and you can have her all to yourself.”

Rio’s brows shoot sky high. You tilt your head, then freeze. It’s you. Agatha’s bargaining you.

There should be a sweetness in knowing you’re the only thing of value she has to offer, yet the taste is sour on your tongue. The words feel like a punishment, a reprimand—and not the kind you’ve begged at her feet for. That awful part of you would rather Agatha die than ever willingly give you up and Rio eyes you as if she knows it. Does it please her to know how they’ve twisted you?

One mistake, you think bitterly, and Agatha throws in the towel. Despite all the near-death experiences you’ve endured at her side. Despite the years you’ve spent together. You never expected a punishment of this proportion.

You bite your tongue. At your sides, your fists clench and unclench. They glow with the anger you can’t keep hidden.

Pride rears its unhelpful head and you speak before you can stop to think, “My life for Agatha’s.”

Rio’s full attention is on you, then. Her eyes are bright.

You speak directly to her, “I’m bound to you and The Road until such time as Agatha traverses it to collect me.”

Had you not been so focused on Rio, you would have noticed Agatha flinch at your suggestion. Her wide, glassy eyes stare at you. You do not give her the satisfaction of your attention. If she is going to be cruel, so can you.

Your terms are a challenge; and Agatha doesn’t turn down a challenge.

Her devious, wicked mask clicks back into place. Rio’s expression is pensive. Despite the poison working through her system, Agatha almost looks as powerful as her best day.

“You’d let me steal her away, O Death?” Agatha teases.

The comment is salt in your open wound. You glare, wishing more than anything that you could wrap your hands around her pretty neck and squeeze. You want her not only to beg—but to apologize.

But Rio’s eyes haven’t left you for a second.

“Alright, sweetheart.” Rio says, “Your life, bound to mine, until Agatha comes to get you.”

In it you understand the desire you both share; to have Agatha, one way or another. You wonder if the desire for possession is your own or something you’ve learned from her.

From her pocket comes a small glass vial. She tosses it to Agatha, who only barely catches it. She cradles it like something precious.

“Drink up.” Rio orders.

Then Rio is there, arm around your waist, holding all your pieces together. You lean into her comfort as color returns to Agatha’s cheeks.

“Te veo.”

1754

“She waits for you.”

Agatha whips around, purple crackling at her fingertips. At the edge of the clearing, Rio leans her weight against a gnarled tree, eyeing the withered husks of once-witches in the grass with interest. She looks almost predatory.

“Does she?”

Rio nods, eyes shifting to Agatha, “Like a puppy. It’s almost pathetic.”

It is pathetic, is what she should say. Time and affection have curbed her tongue on this small thing at least. On you. Agatha’s smile is knowing.

Rio has pulled her punches toward you since the beginning. Agatha’s never minded. It’s almost sweet watching the oldest force in the multiverse tiptoe around a witch barely into her second century. Is it that craving for ancient knowledge in your veins that renders Rio down, or is it simply your pretty face?

Does it matter?

“I don’t have what I need yet.” Agatha rolls her eyes, “Witches these days don’t have the power they used to.”

“Or maybe you’re leveling the population before they have time to strengthen.” Rio raises a brow.

Agatha thinks, deliberately dramatic, then shrugs, “No, that’s not it.”

With a shake of her head, Rio steps out from the treeline, and closes the distance across the clearing. Agatha watches every step with dark eyes. The stench of death and magic sends a chill down Rio’s spine; there’s nothing more delicious than a life snuffed out.

The wind slows in the trees as if sensing her. Birds silence their sweet tunes. There is frantic rustling in the trees somewhere as creatures do all they can to get away.

Yet Agatha stands, waiting, and allows Death to pull her into her embrace.

One of Rio’s great loves is watching skin split so she can lap up the blood at her own pace. Yet, when her hands settle on Agatha’s hips, they’re gentle. She doesn’t open wounds with her teeth. Rather, she moves her lips over Agatha’s until she can’t breathe. Agatha is wary when she pulls back.

Rio shrugs, “A message from her.”

“I see. Forgiven me, has she?” A slow, taunting grin, “Anything from you?”

“Have you earned it?”

“These bodies didn’t make themselves.”

A tilt of her head, as if considering, “Maybe you’ve earned something small, then.”

And they meet in a clash of lips and teeth. Rio’s hands are everywhere, leaving behind deep claw marks that make Agatha moan into her mouth. Agatha’s own nails pierce through cloth and skin at her hips but draw no blood. She tries to push Rio backward toward one of the trees, she just needs a little leverage and Rio’s thigh to—

Rio pulls back. She grins something wicked at the flash of Agatha’s purple.

“Something small.”

Agatha makes a face, batting her lashes. Rio doesn’t give in.

“You’re awful.”

“You love it.” Rio says, then her face takes on something more serious, “Don’t keep her waiting, Agatha.”

Then she’s gone as if she was never there; the only evidence being the bleeding marks on her skin. Agatha stares at where she stood for a long time before moving on.

1801

The Road changes, you’ve seen, as the covens come along. Small cottages, ancient ruins—the most interesting was an old system of catacombs, though it lacked the remains you’d been intent on studying.

Your favorite, though, is the bower, absent of any illusions or spells.

Beneath a canopy of purple leaves upon a seat of grass, you watch the events unfold from afar. An old curved trunk sits at your back keeping you upright. The animals—lost familiars, mostly—wander up to you here, nibbling at fallen leaves and taking up residence in your lap.

From outside it could be mistaken for a simple tree. Yet, beneath it, the world is at your fingertips. The position of your place presents the underside of millions of glowing leaves to your view; lives, Rio said, witch and non-witch alike.

You find the one you love best among the foliage. You trace your finger down the purple veins, hoping she feels you, thinks of you, misses you. The veins seem to glow a little brighter at your touch.

Rio doesn’t enjoy you toying with them; worried a wrong move on your part will take a life too soon, upsetting the greater balance she’s beholden to. But she taught you how to handle Agatha’s. Trace, never prod. Caress, but never pluck.

A black cat settles in your lap and you sit straighter.

Soothing a hand down her back, she purrs. Her little body presses against your stomach and basks in your warmth.

“You really are too predictable.” Rio says.

She stands a few feet away, clad in dirt and muck, yet still beautiful. Always beautiful.

“I like it here. It’s comforting.”

“You like being close to Agatha.” She corrects.

The leaf in question glows brighter as if sensing the mention. You trace a finger along the edge, willing all your love into it.

“This is all I have of her.” You admit.

Something like softness creeps into Rio’s face. As soon as it appears, it recedes. She joins you under the canopy. The cat in your lap startles and leaps from your lap, darting back into the underbrush.

You had never thought to secure some token of Agatha’s, then. Now, with nothing of her’s to hold close, you settle for her life-line, begging it to tell you her whereabouts and if she’s safe; it is always silent. Rio is, too. She doesn’t mention much when you ask, though you know she knows the actions of every life tied to her.

The Road is a wonderful home. Rio is an attentive partner. But you ache, still, for the other set of hands you knew; those who were predictable in their firmness, balancing the sudden changes of Rio’s own.

“You’re crying.” Rio says.

Her face is dark, but fury lingers around the edges. Something like worry flutters in and out of her eyes. You have nothing to say, so you only nod.

Then you’re in her lap. Rio’s bunching up your dress to your waist, canines embedded in your neck. Her nails dig into your hips and the blood warms you. You whimper.

Lips kiss down your neck while a hand hovers between your legs. You bear down, desperate for any friction to dull the ache. And she gives it to you. Her hand is exactly where you want it, fingers rubbing and pressing, and you grind your hips hard, harder until you’re right there.

And then her hand is gone.

You whine. Your hips move of their own volition, searching for that pressure to send you right over the edge. Rio’s lips catch your own in a bruising kiss and you whimper into her mouth.

Needy, desperate, you can almost hear her say.

But when she pulls away and digs her nails in harder, she whispers, “Cry for me, sweetheart.”

She alternates between giving you what you crave and rescinding it for hours. You whimper, moan, and beg. She laughs and repeats herself—cry for me. You lose count of how many almost-orgasms tighten your body just to go unfulfilled. You do cry. You sob and she’s there, tongue licking up your tears and knuckle deep inside you, thumbing over your clit until you have what you want.

You’re not sure how long you lay there, after, crying against her.

1833

Rio’s arm is warm where you’re wrapped around it. She leads you through the winding stone streets, around grand buildings with stained-glass windows. Some of the scenes depicted in the glass are beautiful, simple; but the majority are Catholic in nature, dripping with sadness and guilt. You shake your head.

Passersby nod or tilt their hats, but don’t seem to see you. Their eyes go especially glassy when they look at Rio.

Whereas you’re clad in a dress of rich layered fabric, Rio has opted for more masculine attire. The low heels of her dress shoes click upon the stone. The unwrinkled fabric of her suit smells of smoke.

Your heels don’t quite agree with the stone. After the fifth time of a near-twisted ankle, you huff, “Could I not have worn flat shoes?”

“The heels compliment your legs.”

“You can’t even see them.”

“Yet.” She winks.

You roll your eyes, ignoring the heat suffusing your cheeks. Another nod to a passing couple and Rio makes a sharp turn. You’re led into a damp, dim alleyway.

The ground is made from rough slabs of uneven stone. You curse when your heel slips and only Rio’s strength keeps you standing. Water slides down the walls on either side, thick moss growing in the cracks. You reach out to feel it only for your hand to come away red.

If not for Rio pulling you along, you’d have screamed. Blood cascades down the walls. From it grow dark, twisted plants you’ve studied beside The Road. Beneath the plants and out of them come bones; most have yellowed with age, but there is the occasional bright-white specimen.

Surprise aside, you lean toward the bones with interest. Still, Rio presses on.

The alleyway is growing slimmer by the second. Should it continue to do so, you’ll be forced to walk behind Rio, and the thought makes you tense.

Rio squeezes your hand, “Relax, sweetheart.”

“I’d relax more if I knew what we were doing here.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

Before you’re forced to walk single-file, you come to the end. Rio traces a counter-sigil upon the stone. With a shudder, a door is revealed. Above the silver knocker, embedded in the door, sits an unblinking eyeball. The blue pierces you.

Rio pulls and slams the knocker. The eyeball falls from the door and hits the ground with a sickening pop. You nearly shriek while Rio makes noises of delight.

“Ooh,” She chuckles, “we’re not the first to arrive.”

You try not to think about what the eye must look like now, “Can I go home?”

“Why so squeamish all of a sudden? You handle the cadavers I bring you just fine.”

“That’s different. That’s research.”

“Who says this isn’t, sweetheart?”

The door opens soundlessly. Inside, the scene is much the same; another dark, slim space, though notably absent of plants and body parts. The owner of this place must be allergic to candles, the lighting situation is just pathetic.

Rio waits. When you make no move to walk inside, she sighs, nudging you with a hand on your lower back, “Ladies first.”

You’re not sure if being first or last is the worst. If anything is to jump from the walls now, you’ll take the brunt of it; you’re reminded of that day with Agatha all those years ago. Rio’s warmth at your back offers the strength you need to continue. Though, you do cling to her hand the whole way.

The hallway empties into a full room. Dark shelves match the height of the walls, on them jars full of ingredients. There are tables boasting dozens of drawers, though none sit open. Glasses and tools and cauldrons line the tabletops. In the center of it all are two figures; well, one figure and one corpse.

You can’t catch your breath. She’s as beautiful as the day you lost her.

“Agatha.” You whisper.

Agatha turns and smirks. She doesn’t look nearly as surprised to see you as you do her. Upon seeing you, her expression softens, eyes full of affection and longing. It hardens a bit when she glances behind you.

“You ruined the surprise.” Rio says, arms crossed, though one motions to the corpse, “We needed her.”

“What could you possibly need with a poison witch?”

“Our darling healer wanted to study with her.”

Something like regret turns Agatha’s face when she regards you. With a wave, she produces a thick book full of yellowing pages. You tilt your head when she offers it to you.

“Her life’s work. I’m sure there’s more here somewhere.” Agatha shrugs.

You take it and hold it to your chest reverently. All this time you thought Rio was putting you off about finding a competent poison witch and yet here you are, standing in her apothecary. She lies dead on the floor but you couldn’t care less when the real gift stands before you.

You long for her. You ache to feel the gentle caress of her hands on your face, the threat of her nails on your scalp.

A look at Rio tells you she isn’t entirely pleased with the turn of events. Yet when she sees your excitement some of her ire dissipates. The yearning in your eyes must be plain, since she gives you a single nod.

Book of poisons tossed onto the tabletop, you throw yourself into Agatha’s arms. She’s as steady as you remember. Her hand grips your chin and forces your lips to hers. Her hands are predictably firm wherever they land. She grips you as if afraid you’ll slip away. But her kiss, oh gods her kiss; soft lips and taunting, sharp tongue. The length of her body pressed against your own and so warm.

There are hands in your hair and this is all you’ve wanted—all you’ve craved for years. Why, then, do you feel the urge to cry? To rip the heart from your chest and banish it to where it won’t hurt?

Agatha is warm and steady. You bury your face in her neck and her in yours. Your hands shake with the force of clinging to her.

The feeling is bliss. Yet, it isn’t complete.

You glance over Agatha’s shoulder to Rio. She stands in the doorway, watching the scene with dark-eyed interest; but there’s a weariness in the set of her shoulders.

“Beloved.” You call, holding one of your hands out to her.

Rio raises a brow. Her eyes don’t stray from your outstretched hand.

“This is your gift, sweetheart.”

“And it’s incomplete without you.”

Her eyes stray to Agatha, who has taken to watching her, too. This time, Agatha’s eyes don’t harden. They maintain that soft look you melt for.

Agatha extends her own hand alongside yours.

“Come on.” Agatha urges, soft.

You watch the resolve break moments before she wedges her way into your embrace. Her fingers lace through yours, but her face is pressed into Agatha’s neck. She pushes and nuzzles like she wants to become part of her. It reminds you of the cat that visits the bower—Ebony—but you don’t dare say so.

Agatha’s hands leave you to caress Rio’s face. A thumb rubs along her cheekbone. You press yourself against Rio’s back, unable to glimpse her face but sure of the longing in her expression.

In a perfect world, there would be no separation between the three of you. No clothes, no emotional barriers, not even flesh to keep your hearts from mingling into one. You settle for Rio’s hand in your own and Agatha’s blue eyes locked on you.

You lean over Rio’s shoulder and kiss Agatha, your free hand fumbling with getting into the former’s pants. She chuckles darkly in your ear. It ignites a spark in your chest; a dangerous longing for this to remain, to be always. You try to push it away and focus on how Rio moans in your ear instead.

1869

“Will you walk with me?”

Rio nods, smiles grandly, “Of course.”

You laugh. She holds out her arm, ever the picture of a gentleman, but you lace your fingers through hers instead.

As a rare treat, you lead. You pull her along the road. The leaves change beneath your feet, from silver and black to the hues of autumn and then to pure green. The Road opens its arms into a clearing bathed in the color. Only the stone building in the center stands apart.

Upon your approach, flowers grow in the flattened grass where you step; honeysuckle and heliotrope, baby’s breath and red chrysanthemum. Rio glances over her shoulder as the blooms spring forth.

Ivy grows up the walls of the building. You brush a gentle hand over the leaves.

Crumbling, worn headstones en masse wait behind the building.

Rio tilts her head, “What is this?”

The door is unlocked. You knew it would be. The Road cannot keep you from this place.

Inside is warm and hazy. Papers with elegant scrawl cover every surface, books half-open litter any free spaces. Shelves line the walls, jars bearing various specimens. Plush couches overflow with deep, red cushions, begging you to sit and stay. A fire cracks in the fireplace.

Rio turns this way and that. She wanders around the room, flipping through books. A fingernail taps against a jar full of eyes. An errant paper is plucked from where it sits haphazardly atop the mantle. She stops.

You know the paper the second she comes into contact with it; can remember the way you wax poetic about how beautiful she is, how safe you feel in her arms. She picks another, then another, so on, and you know every word the second she touches them; the way she unwinds in Agatha’s arms, her face twisted in perfect fury, the lightless turn of her eyes when she teeters on the edge of wickedness.

She looks at you, vulnerable and unsure, “What is this?”

“My heart.”

“That… then why is all of this here?”

Her hand shakes the papers for emphasis. You resist the urge to laugh, lest she think you’re making light of her. Death can be cruel, but you try not to be.

You step close. Gently, the papers are extracted and returned to their places. Rio stares and hardly breathes as you take your face in her hands.

“You pulled away after that night.” You whisper, finger tracing her cupids-bow, “Do you think I touch you only because it is convenient?”

Rio’s lip curls. Fists bunch at her side, crackling with green light. You feel the rumble of her anger working through her chest. She tries to pull from your hold, but you don’t let her.

“Do you think I kiss you and pretend it’s her?”

Rio snarls, “I will kill you if you don’t stop talking.”

You smile. The threat is a real one, but you don’t fear it; the outcome is remaining by her side. With one hand you reach and pull one of her fists between you. You unravel it, trying not to flinch against the bursts of power over her skin. You press the palm of her hand over where your heart resides inside your chest.

The snarl fades just so. Fury still lingers in her eyes. You press your hand over hers and will her to see, to know.

“Look at the walls.” You order.

Upon the walls, plain and dark, shimmering scrawl appears. Agatha Harkness, it reads in shaky lettering; like a name carved into a tree. One signature turns into ten and ten into countless. Purple and shimmering is Agatha’s brand upon you. Rio yanks and reaches for the dagger she keeps handy.

Rio’s true name appears in shimmering green letters, then. Same as Agatha’s, there are countless signatures. They conjoin and overlap until the walls of your heart look like nothing more than a child’s colorful scribbles.

She stares at the walls in disbelief. The knife in her hand clatters to the ground.

“I’ve carved your names upon my heart so I’ll never forget who it belongs to.” You whisper.

“Sweetheart…”

You bend and collect her blade, pressing it into her hand, “Now do it yourself.”

Her hand wraps around the handle reflexively. Rio’s hand doesn’t leave the spot over your heart, feeling the steady, truthful beat.

“It’ll hurt you.” Rio says. She doesn’t bother hiding the desire in her voice.

You urge, “Make me hurt.”

Each artful stroke of her blade is slow. You whimper, but grip her wrist and push the blade deeper into your flesh. She scoffs when tears flood your eyes. The tears run down your cheeks while you smile, filled with bliss and ache in equal measure.

It’s a gift to love so deeply it wounds you. You never want her to stop; who, aside from your shared scar, holds such power? Who else in the world could touch your heart truly enough to carve into it?

There’s delight in her every movement. She consumes the pain of millions and yet, none of it is of her own making. She can only relish in what others have done; torture for a being who remains eternally intimate with the greatest methods of drawing out agony. Death has no free will but that you offer her—and she takes what none else would give, ravenously.

Is it enough?

Not forever, something tells you, you think it might be her, but for now.

1925

“You called?” Rio asks.

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you’re avoiding me.”

Agatha leans against the wall beside a small window. The pane has been slid upward, letting in the sounds of the city below, releasing the smoke of Agatha’s cigarette into the air outside.

The cigarette is clutched in gloved hands. Her expression is amused as she draws in and releases the smoke, watching it form the shapes she wills. Though it has no effect on such a witch, Rio admires the object’s capability of bringing Agatha infinitesimally closer to her.

“We’ve been busy.”

“Busy or not, I’d say twelve bodies earns me a visit. And with the bulk of good booze I just removed from the market, I’d say I’ve earned a little more.”

An obvious lure with paltry bait, still Rio bites, “What do you have in mind?”

“Let me see her.”

She should. You’ve come to accept Agatha’s absence in your life, but she sees how much time you spend in the bower, and how you flinch when her name comes up. Rio hadn’t expected the frequency of Agatha’s name on the lips of covens walking the road to be so overwhelming, but it always drives you right into her arms; that she will relish.

But Death is not giving. She takes. Taking is, in fact, her favorite hobby. Twelve bodies is not enough to make up for the haunted look in your eyes. She wants more—will have it. Agatha has to earn you.

“I’ll need a little more from you.” Rio drawls.

“Do you have any idea how hard it is to kill that many witches here with the nightlife?” Agatha throws her hands up. Ash flies from the forgotten cigarette.

The sounds of Chicago seem to grow louder, as if to aid her point. Rio grins. She crosses the small space and takes the cigarette, snuffing it out on the back of Agatha’s hand. The action prompts a quiet moan.

“It shouldn’t be a problem. What I want, you have an abundance of.” Rio’s smile widens as she manipulates Agatha’s hand, removing the glove, pushing and prodding until purple flashes along the flesh.

A cooling breeze sneaks in the window and rustles the fringe along Agatha’s dress. It’s a beautiful thing, short and decadent. Rio knows you’ve enjoyed the few sightings of the period fashion you’ve glimpsed, but like her, you’d enjoy this specific dress in a pile on the floor.

Agatha’s eyes stare at where Rio’s flesh meets her own. Her eyes are contemplative, calculating. She hesitates. And that is her fatal mistake.

Rio throws her across the room with a shove. Agatha’s side hits one of the walls and she falls, face-first, onto the mattress she’s been sleeping on. The springs shriek at the sudden weight. Agatha snarls, throwing out a blast of purple that slams into Rio’s chest. Rio moans something filthy.

There’s a brief struggle where Rio does her best to keep Agatha pinned; to the bed, to the wall, wherever there’s a surface. Yet Agatha is slippery. Her magic whisks her right out of the hold Rio puts her in and wherever Agatha wills it; which currently, is behind the other witch so Agatha can kick the back of her knees. Rio kneels not of her own volition.

She braces to stand, only to find the blade of her own dagger at her throat.

Rio’s gaze has lost any warmth. Her affection is buried deep, beneath layers and layers of earth she craves to bury Agatha in right this second, “You’re breaking her heart.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem, you like seeing her cry.”

“When I’m the one responsible.”

Agatha rolls her eyes. She maintains a carefully ambivalent expression. Rio knows better; knows, under all that forced emotion, that Agatha’s heart is waging against her head, warring over her selfish desire to keep every bit of power.

Then, something shifts. Rio feels it. Agatha has made her choice and it isn’t you. And it ignites a rage in her chest unlike anything she’s felt in centuries.

She snatches the dagger back from Agatha’s grasp and only just barely resists the urge to bury it in her chest. If she has to drag Agatha back to you kicking and screaming, she will. You would like that, wouldn’t you?

“I’ll kill you.” Rio vows, and means it. Agatha can’t run away from the two of you if her soul is Rio’s to keep.

Agatha’s eyes flash with fear. Then, she grins around it, “If you can catch me.”

Latin words roll off Agatha’s tongue faster than Rio can comprehend. She recognizes the words and what they mean, where they’ve come from. Rio reaches out with her magic for the Darkhold too late; it, and Agatha, have completely vanished from her awareness.

When she returns to The Road and finds you pacing before the bower, she stops short.

“Did you—is she dead?” You ask, worrying your lip. Though your eyes dart every which way, looking for whatever manifestation of Agatha you believe she’s brought you.

“Sweetheart…”

1937

“Do you think if I cut you open you would heal too fast for me to do any research?”

Rio tilts her head, considering. She’s sprawled out on the plush couch inside the physical manifestation of your heart, toying with her knife, having a staring contest with the unblinking jar of eyes while you jot down thoughts into notebook number… well, she’s lost count.

“Probably.” She answers, “I’m also not sure I have organs.”

You pause, “How is that even possible?”

“Magic, sweetheart.”

Leaning back, your mind begins to race; given how old she is, it would only make sense that the organs the body came with are gone, rotted away—but would the flesh not go with it? You massage your temples. Life magic is no easier to understand than Death magic.

There’s only one way to test your hypothesis. You stand from your place at the table and cross to her, straddling her hips where she lay on the couch.

“I want to see.” You say, holding out a hand.

Rio hands over her dagger and sinks further into the couch, as if that is possible. She grins up at you with no shortage of delight. You do your best to tamp down on your own grin.

The flesh beneath your hands is warm and smells of damp earth where you peel away her shirt. Her eyes darken with every inch of flesh revealed to you. Firm and unafraid, you press the tip of the dagger down against her sternum. The action earns you an exaggerated moan.

You rip the dagger away, glaring, “Behave.”

“Or what?” Rio taunts, tongue pressing against the inside of her cheek.

“Or I stop letting you watch my dissections.”

She tenses, “You wouldn’t.”

“Wouldn’t I, beloved?”

“Get on with it.”

You lean down and steal a quick kiss. It melts away the darling little pout on her lips.

When you press the dagger back down, the flesh bends, but doesn’t open. You tilt your head and press harder. Rio watches, unphased. There is absolutely no give to her flesh. It gets to a point where you’re pressing your entire body weight behind the dagger, but Rio only laughs, squirming as if the action tickles.

You whine and sigh. The dagger is dropped unceremoniously onto her chest while you lean an elbow against the back of the couch, sinking somewhat into the cushion.

“If you want live specimens, we can collect some.” She soothes.

The idea isn’t intolerable, but you shake your head.

“They scream too much.”

“Anesthetic exists, sweetheart.”

“I suppose that’s true.”

You look away, tracing the walls and their offerings with your eyes. Upon them hang paintings of your own making; scenes of life, death, love, fear—mostly fear.

The human condition fascinates you, always has. Of the emotions to study, fear is the hardest; it is always fleeting in your wake; your face is too kind, too trustworthy, wiping away any sense of the unease you seek to study. You stare at your paintings and feel only distaste, knowing they’re not quite right.

You can’t claim to have always had such taste. No, a cultivation for the finer flavors of life and death takes time. You can pinpoint where the itch started, however; that day in your childhood village when a dying soul reached out to you—scarcely were you a day older than four—and found no assistance.

How beautiful it was; grisly, messy, but beautiful. You did not flinch away. Rather, you found yourself drawn in, eager to see more. And being of a coven of healers, your desire was fulfilled. Death was yours before you knew her name.

Looking down at her, she stares back, unashamed to be caught. The heart in your chest—which has felt so stagnant in recent years—warms toward something almost pure.

Rio will one day claim your soul. This, you know, and accept; your soul belonged to her the second you watched that woman die. You fear the when. What becomes of you when she claims your soul? What if you have yet to conduct all the research you desire? There is so much still to learn and you know she’ll abandon it for the chance to keep you.

You love her, but you’ll never forgive her the knowledge you’ll one day lose. The warmth in your chest doesn’t ebb.

Her top is still splayed open from your attempt at dissection. A healthy amount of flesh is bared to your eyes. You trace one finger from her neck to the center of her chest and tap, just above where a heart should be.

“When you come for me,” You say, “I want to hold your heart in my hand.”

“You already do.” She utters.

“Will you let me study it, then, when I’m but a soul?”

“You can study whatever you wish as long as it leads to me.”

1989

Agatha dwells on mistakes, often. She just doesn’t allow them to distract from her purpose. She is ruthless, to her very core.

She spends an embarrassing amount of time trying to open the damned door to The Road. One coven after another, all failures. There is an obscene beauty in claiming a reward for what would otherwise be failure on her part.

Time passes, enemies made, promises broken. She shrugs them all off. Yet she can’t shake the feeling of your hands in her hair, on her face. The lingering whisper of your kisses haunts her. The Darkhold whispers to her, oftentimes in language she shouldn’t comprehend, and it offers her the solution, should she just be patient;

The Scarlet Witch

2026

The power that floats before you is biting and all too familiar.

It fights against your hold, twisting and writhing like a wild animal, desperate to return to its mistress. But you’re stronger for now. The Scarlet Witch threw this power into the ether in her attempt at playing Death, and now it is yours to hold until Agatha comes for it.

Anger rubs against the heart in your chest like a cat. You lean into it, feeling your own power respond to subdue that which isn’t yours.

Rio watches beside you. She runs her fingers through the purple electricity contained in your palms, laughing when it fights her. Lips press against your temple.

“Not long now.” She assures you.

You feel longing and fury in equal measure.

“I want her soul, Rio.” You whisper.

A small chuckle, low beside your ear. It sends shivers down your spine. Her hand grasps your chin and turns you to face her, her lips meeting your own. The kiss is soft. You melt into it.

She pulls back, tone careful, “You didn’t walk The Road, sweetheart.”

You have not earned what The Road promises to grant.

2026

Agatha doesn’t expect the end of The Road to look like Agnes’ Westview home, nor does she expect to see Rio perched on the roof, leaning back, as if waiting. But every step closer to the front yard makes her more furious.

She is owed her prize.

Upon her first step in Agnes’ yard, the front door opens, and she is blasted with something so strong that it knocks her back to The Road, on her back. She groans. Yet, she feels more alive than she has in centuries. Her body shudders with its missing piece; her power curling up in her veins, pleased to be home.

She sits up, wincing at the ache in her bones that continues despite the gift she’s received. Leaves stick to the back of her arms, little pieces having crunched beneath her weight and adhered to her skin. She does her best to brush them away while getting to her feet.

Rio remains on the roof, grinning.

There, on the porch of Agnes’ house, is you. All the glory of you.

Agatha’s heart leaps in her chest despite the scowl on your face. To her, you haven’t aged a day; still the young, fresh-faced witch following at her heels, dizzy on knowledge and the thrumming power inside. Time has not erased the love she has—so great it threatens to bring her to her knees.

“Dearest…” Agatha murmurs, taking a half-step forward.

“You have your prize.” You sneer.

Your heart aches, begging you to go to her; hasn’t it been centuries? But your pride holds you back. She left you here while she gallivanted around the world getting what she wanted.

There’s a brief flash of hurt on Agatha’s face, before it morphs into a wicked grin. Her posture changes, too, to something more proud, as she slinks across the yard toward the porch. You resist the urge to take a step back.

“No, I don’t.” She drawls, “Are you going to be a good pet and come home willingly, or do I have to put you on a leash?”

Something inside you burns for her. You ache for her touch, for her to force you to do what she wants. It creeps through the cracks of your pride and turns it into something else. You stick out your chin. Agatha snickers.

Magic pulses in your palms, pulling various items from around you to throw—not fast enough. Agatha has you kneeling with your hands bound in a blink.

“That’s not very nice, dear. And after all I’ve done to get here.”

You regain some of your fight, snarling, “You left me here.”

Agatha hums.

“Into the deal you stumbled your way into. I’m not the one who tied herself to The Road in a fit of pride.”

“You were leaving me regardless. If I was going to be handed off, I was going to do it on my own terms.”

“Did I specify a length of time in my proposal? Was there any explicit mention of how long She could have you before I came back?” Agatha asks, mean-spirited joy in her eyes upon watching the realization dawn in your own. All that time you spent agonizing… when you had shackled yourself, “Years lost because you wanted to be a self-righteous brat.”

There’s a lilt to her voice that clues you in to everything you’d once seen instinctually; Agatha has been in just as much anguish as you have, left to walk the world alone. You see the pain in her eyes. Just like then, you try to get to her now, eager to fix it, to wipe it away.

The binding around your arms keeps you stationary. You whine and pull against it.

“Agatha,” You whine, “I’m sorry.”

“You will be.” She says. Then she turns to your left, finger poised and accusing, “And you—you kept her away from me.”

Rio shrugs, smiling, “I couldn’t just make it easy on you.”

Agatha waves a hand and Rio is kneeling on the porch at your side, similarly bound. Yet where you look pained, she is delighted.

“I’m sorry.” You repeat, “I didn’t mean to be bad.”

“That doesn’t change that you were.”

A cloud of purple smoke announces your arrival to the inner bedroom of Agnes’ house. It doesn’t look like what you’ve seen from Rio, though. Where Agnes had been bland and cookie-cutter, this is rich fabrics and deep wood. It is Agatha through and through.

You and Rio kneel side-by-side at the foot of the bed, where Agatha perches. Her beautiful blue eyes don’t miss the slightest movement you make. She’s clad in a dark robe with snakes and flowers that has Rio leaning forward in interest.

Agatha’s eyes lock on you, “You’re going to apologize. Properly.”

“I’m sorry—”

“With your tongue.”

Leaning back on her forearms, Agatha spreads her legs, and you feel the desire in your body rush through you. It’s so strong you feel your head begin to pound. She’s pink and dripping and all you want is to do a good job for her.

Yet, ever the brat, you lean forward and start with kissing her inner thighs. With every press of your lips to the delicate flesh you murmur an apology. She sighs.

A hand weaves into your hair and yanks you back. Her eyes are dark. Her face is set in a punishing expression but you see the yearning in her that matches your own. She yanks again, lighter, and you moan.

“What did I say?” She asks, before directing you where she wants you.

Witches don’t subscribe to the idea of what a human would call heaven, but upon tasting her, you think you could get behind it. She’s warm and sweet. You flatten your tongue and drag it along her slit just to collect a better taste of her. Agatha’s hand presses you in harder as she moans.

Without the use of your fingers, you have to use your tongue well. You stiffen it as much as you’re able when you delve inside her and hope it is even slightly close enough to satisfy. The pathetic sounds reaching your ears—breathy moans, sweet whimpers—tell you that you’re doing fine.

“Good girl.” Agatha breathes out.

You clench around nothing. You’re sure that you’ve ruined your undergarments thoroughly from how wet you are.

Eager for more praise, you direct your attention to that small, fleshy bundle of nerves begging for your attention. You swirl your tongue around her clit and her hips stutter, before they grind against your face with a renewed sense of purpose. You smile.

“Yes—there, more—” Agatha stutters.

You were born to do as she commands. All you want is to make her happy. Following her directions is as easy as breathing.

The tip of your tongue alternates between circling her clit and flicking it. Every flick earns you a high-pitched oh! and a firm grinding of her hips. Her thighs are tightening around your head, but she’s putting up a good fight. Her legs quiver.

“There—there—I’m going to—” Is all the warning you’re given before Agatha shrieks and comes while rutting against your mouth. You lap up every drop of her wetness you can get with glee. You did this, you brought her this pleasure; the knowledge sends a happy jolt through you.

Agatha’s grip on your hair releases and you lean back, taking in big lungfuls of air. She stares down at you with a thoroughly fucked-out expression that makes you preen.

Then she leans over and pulls your lips to hers. She moans against the taste of herself on your lips, tongue collecting the flavor from your lips. You throw every ounce of love you possess into the kiss—willing her to understand the longing you felt, the thousands of hours you spent watching her lifeline just to make sure she was safe.

“Good girl.” Agatha murmurs, pressing little kisses all over your face, “My good girl.”

“All yours.” You agree.

She laughs, low and smooth, “That’s not quite the truth, is it?”

The two of you turn to regard Rio in unison. She remains in the position Agatha left her in, kneeling and bound. You admire her restraint at not breaking the bindings. Though you guess Agatha wouldn’t take kindly to that.

Rio’s eyes are black with desire. They dart between the two of you. She takes in the wetness on your face, licking her lips. You can feel her eagerness for a taste.

She’s writhing a bit in her restraints, pressing her thighs together and wiggling, looking for any source of friction she can find. Agatha tuts and she stops. If it were up to you, your face would be between her thighs, ears enjoying every sound she makes. But it isn’t up to you.

Agatha scoots back up the bed until she’s sitting against the headboard. That’s when you feel the restraints on you fall away. She beckons the two of you with a finger and you both follow the command, eager.

“Come here.” Agatha urges you specifically, patting her bare thigh.

You obey and straddle the appendage, shuddering against the feeling against your throbbing clit. There’s a split second where you think of just grinding down and taking what you want. But you don’t—you have to be good.

Words pass between Agatha and Rio during your silent struggle. When you look, she’s lying along the length of the bed, legs bunched up and spread wide next to you.

“What am I going to do with you both?” Agatha muses.

“Fuck us?” Rio drawls.

“You, my good girl,” Agatha says, ignoring Rio as she soothes a hand through your hair, “are going to use me until you come. And my bad girl isn’t going to come until I tell her she can.”

You shudder, whimpering, while Rio whines next to you. Agatha kisses your forehead while dealing a slap to Rio that makes her groan.

A hand settles onto your hip and begins to guide you through the motions of grinding against her. The friction is difficult to attain with how wet you are, but you do what you can, crying out everytime the pressure is just enough to make your toes curl. It won’t take long for you to finish.

Your face is buried in Agatha’s neck, where you press loving little kisses to the flesh. As a result you cannot see Rio. But you hear her; every movement of Agatha’s deft fingers through her wetness, every growl and keen of desire, every slap of Agatha’s hand when she gets a bit too eager. She won’t last long either, from what you can tell.

The image of Rio and Agatha in your mind is enough to push you toward that delightful little taste of death. Your hands tighten over Agatha’s shoulders.

“Agatha, can I—please?” You plead.

“So obedient, asking for permission even when you don’t need to.” Agatha praises, “Go on, darling.”

With her hand guiding you and her voice in your ear, you come so hard you see stars behind your eyes. You’re not sure what sound leaves your lips, only that your throat aches afterward.

You tune back in to hear a brutal slap of flesh on flesh. Rio snarls.

“Beg.” Agatha’s voice commands in your ear, though you know it isn’t for you.

Rio stays stubbornly silent.

The sounds of Agatha toying with her come to an abrupt halt. You don’t have the strength to lift your face from your refuge, but you can imagine that stubborn, yet pleading look in Rio’s face; wanting so deeply but not willing to give up what is required.

“If you don’t want to behave, she can have your pleasure instead.”

“No! I’ll—” You hear Rio grit her teeth, “Please, Agatha. Please let me come.”

Agatha laughs.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” She coos.

Seconds—or maybe minutes—before Rio wails. There’s something primordial and animalistic wrapped inside it, almost like a growl. It makes you shudder. Then all that's left in the room is the sound of breathing.

You spent so long aching for something just like this. It’s beautiful, though you know it can’t stay; all three of you are far too ambitious to live a domestic existence, but it’s nice for now. You missed them. The heart in your chest feels complete again, filling to the brim with affection.

Tears seep from your eyes and you pull back before Agatha can question it, though you do feel her stiffen. You press kisses to her neck, her sternum, the inside of her wrist; then you grab Rio’s hand and press kisses to every pad of her fingers.

With every kiss, you murmur I love you.

2027

“If you don’t sedate him at least a little bit, his heart is going to give out.”

Rio’s sudden voice next to you isn’t surprising. You’ve grown used to her coming and going—Death waits for no one, after all. Her lips press to your cheek and you accept the affection.

“She did sedate him. Three times.” Agatha’s voice calls from the next room.

“Oh, I see.”

Rio leans over to examine the man on your table with no shortage of interest. He stares back, eyes impossibly wide. His heart rate picks up.

“What is he?” She asks.

“Not sure. Rapid regeneration, odd capabilities. Mutant, maybe?”

“He’s certainly not a witch.” Agatha’s leaning against the doorway now, arms folded over her chest, “Though it is taking a fair amount of magic to keep him subdued.”

“He’s no match for you, naturally.” You compliment.

Both Agatha and Rio grin at that. The former comes up behind you, hands settling on your hips. Her lips press against your neck. Then, she leans over and steals a kiss from Rio, who is all too eager to meet her halfway.

You smile. The heart in your chest threatens to burst—not unlike the specimen in front of you.

“Well, aren’t you sweet today.” Agatha comments.

“Aiming for a reward?” Rio asks.

Rio kisses her way up the flash of skin available to her eyes, making you sigh, leaning back into Agatha’s hands. Then Agatha’s lips fasten to the other side of your neck. Your head falls back and you laugh. Then you moan.

The experiment on your table is forgotten as you’re dragged into the next room and bent into all sorts of shapes you couldn’t even imagine on your own. Oh, well; if he dies before the six hour mark, you can always just find another one. The same cannot be said of the witches bracketing you. And oh, how beautiful that is.

#agatha harkness x reader #rio vidal x reader #agathario #agathario x reader #agatha all along #agatha harkness #rio vidal #agatha harkness x reader x rio vidal #agatha all along x reader #agatha all along fanfiction #wlw #wlw fanfiction #oct2024 #multimilfswritings

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lotties-ashwagandha · 2 months ago

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THE FIRST TO BREAK

agatha harkness x reader x rio vidal

NSFW! when they can’t decide who indulges you more, agatha and rio find a way to settle it in competition. based on this ask i got. 1.3k words. i might have written this at 7am (that’s my excuse if it’s bad <3).

Rio’s arms rest looped around your waist as you stand at the stove. Her head rests on your shoulder as she watches you work, as you pour herbs and spices into a pot —you got up early, stalking through the kitchen to create something to prevent the illnesses that will be coming with winter soon. You use your witchcraft in the way of herbs, a potion witch as they would call you.

“You don’t need any of this,” Rio whispers. She watches you stir, and her arms around you grow tighter. “I’m not taking you from illness.”

You smile softly. You’ve tried to explain to her before that it’s not just about life and death, but discomfort — how much life resembles the gleaming, shifting ideal of thriving. She is still learning, it’s a concept too human for what is ancient, for Death.

“You’re going to keep her alive forever,” Agatha’s voice rings out into the gentle silence of the kitchen as she speaks to Rio. You turn slightly in Rio’s grasp to look over at her, and as she pours a coffee for herself Agatha raises her eyebrows at you accusingly. “Don’t break my favoritism streak.”

You shake your head. “I’ll try.”

Rio rolls her eyes. She steps away from you, leaning against the kitchen island behind her as she turns to Agatha. “If one of us is treating her with favoritism, it’s not me.”

“Really? That’s a stretch. How do I treat her with favoritism?”

Leaving the contents on the stove to simmer, you turn to watch them argue over you. It is playful, but still endearing, because you know they both treat you with favoritism.

“You answer to whatever she wants,” Rio says, like it’s obvious. “Even when she doesn’t ask, you’re always giving.”

“That’s not a bad thing.”

“No. Stealing diamond earrings and a diamond bracelet in the same week from a shopkeeper you threatened to kill is a little much though, isn’t it?”

Agatha is quiet for a moment, taking a sip of her coffee. She drinks out of a black mug Rio got her, wears a dark blue robe Rio bought her, wears a wedding ring Rio proposed to her with. You don’t think you are the one being shown partiality.

Agatha sets the mug down and looks at you. “What do you think?”

You didn’t think it had been worth bickering over. They had disagreed. Now as you lay on the bed with your hands tied all you want is for them to show you favor, to fuck you until they forget the petty competition they have created between them.

Two of Rio’s fingers slide into you as she takes advantage of her turn. The rules of their competition are simple: whoever lets you come first loses. You’re working up to the third time being edged, this is Rio’s second time on you and Agatha has only edged you once.

It was Agatha’s plan to make Rio go first, and now you can see why, because in the way she’s fucking you so greedily now with her fingers and in the low moans she lets slip as she sucks bruises onto your chest you can tell Rio will be the first to break. She wants to let you come as bad as you need it, her black nails digging into your hips as her free hand presses against you in a reminder to stay still.

“Look at her,” Agatha says, speaking to Rio as if you couldn’t hear, you were something to admire. “Doesn’t she deserve to come? She’s so beautiful for us like this.”

Rio lets out a frustrated breath, accusatory glance shifting to Agatha, who takes advantage of her proximity and pulls her into a kiss. You watch them above you, one of Agatha’s hands drifting to your breasts as she sits at your side. She’s trying hard to do anything she can to make Rio let you come.

Rio notices Agatha’s wandering touch. She pulls out of the kiss, pulling Agatha’s hand away from your breasts and replacing it with her mouth. The sensation elicits a gasp from you, and your back arches into the sensation of her tongue licking across one of your nipples.

“She’s so close,” Agatha whispers into Rio’s ear. She watches you with the same hunger in Rio’s eyes as she keeps fucking you with her fingers. “Think about how perfect she would look for you, how it would feel to have her—”

Just as you reach the edge of your orgasm, Rio pulls her hands from you. She compensates with kissing you — it’s not enough, though, and you can’t help but whine into the kiss. You need her touch, or Agatha’s, something to soothe the need growing in you so sharply.

When you pull away and look at Agatha, a conflicted expression occupies her features. You know she wants to give you an orgasm, but she also wants to win. As she takes Rio’s place and settles herself between your legs, head dipping down to kiss your thighs, you can see it — that there’s nothing she wants more right now than to feel you come on her tongue.

When Rio kisses you from beside you, Agatha delivers a sharp slap to the outside of your thigh. You tense, startled out of the kiss.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Agatha’s tone is demanding as she addresses Rio, who looks back at her with unbothered pride.

“I’m playing by your rules. You want to taunt me during my turn? It has to be even.”

“It will be even when I win,” Agatha says, and you’re overcome with the sensation of her tongue dragging through you. Your hands pull at the restraints above you to no avail. You want to reach down and weave your hands in her hair, or pull Rio closer to you as she watches.

Agatha runs her tongue over your clit. She does it harder, moaning against you when your legs begin to tremble on either side of her head. It’s almost painful how good it feels to have her tongue dipping inside of you and back up to your clit. With Rio’s lips crashing back into yours you can feel yourself slowly building into another orgasm — this time you need it.

“Please,” you beg breathlessly, hands pulling the restraints again. “You win, both of you can win…”

“Agatha,” Rio taunts beside you. She watches as Agatha draws you closer and closer to the edge — she watches when Agatha pulls away.

Yet when Agatha pulls away it’s not to let Rio take her place, but to slide two fingers into you and reposition herself so she can kiss you. You taste yourself on her tongue and a moan escapes you.

“Come for me, baby, give it to me,” Agatha murmurs. Your body responds immediately, any restraint you’ve tried to keep snaps as white-hot euphoria rushes over you. Agatha fucks you through it, fingers buried deep in you as she guides you through your orgasm. Vaguely you’re able to process Rio beside you as well with one of her hands between her legs — she’s gone with you, at the sight of you and Agatha.

Agatha kisses you again as you come down from it. You hear Rio breathing heavily beside you, and then Agatha is pulled away from you again so that Rio can kiss her. When they part, Rio looks into her eyes. “You fucking lose.”

“And you’re the one that got off on it.”

A smile makes its way to your lips. Playfully Rio shakes her head at you, Agatha moving to lay on your other side so that you’re sandwiched between them while Rio undoes the restraints on your wrists. You pull your hands down.

Laying down with them, Rio rests her head on her chest and loops an arm around your waist. Agatha holds her hand, and in their embrace you are enveloped by their love. There is no winner amongst you — the victory is shared.

#agatha all along #agathario x reader #agatha harkness x rio vidal x reader #agatha x rio x reader #agatha x rio #agathario #rio vidal x reader #agatha harkness x reader #agathario smut #agatha harkness #rio vidal #agatha harkness smut #rio vidal smut #agatha all along smut

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hello-there · 9 days ago

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Communities are a new way to connect with the people on Tumblr who care about the things you care about! Browse Communities to find the perfect one for your interests or create a new one and invite your friends and mutuals!

#tumblr communities #communities

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ellastone-olsen · 3 months ago

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SWEET FLOWER.

Pairing: Rio Vidal x reader x Agatha Harkness

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

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

Word count: 1.3k

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

DISCLAIMER: ENGLISH ISNT MY FIRST LANGUAGE

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#agatha coven of chaos #wanda maximoff smut #marvel #agatha harkness x reader #kathryn hahn #agatha all along #agatha: darkhold diaries #agatha x rio #aubrey plaza #agathario #agatha smut #agarha harkness smut #agatha harkness #rio vidal

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wandamaximoffsbadgirl · 3 months ago

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You Should Have Listened

Soft Mommy!Agatha Harkness x Mean Daddy!Rio Vidal x bratty!fem!reader

Word count: 2.5K words

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, Dom/Sub Dynamics, Overstimulation, Power Play, Orgasm Denial/Control, Degradation, Consensual Non-Consent (CNC), Choking (Light Breath Play), Rough Handling, Punishment Kink, Brat Taming

Authors notes: My first time writing Rio and she'll be added to my list of characters I'll write for~

The tension in the air was thick, simmering with the consequences of your behavior throughout the day. You'd been testing their patience from the moment you woke up—snarky remarks, sly smirks, brushing off their warnings with a flippant attitude.

Agatha’s eyes, usually calculating and sharp, were now darker, and her lips curled into a smile that promised retribution. Rio, on the other hand, wasn’t smiling at all. The quiet intensity in her gaze sent a shiver down your spine.

“Is this how you want to end your day?” Rio’s voice was low, dangerously calm, her brown eyes narrowing on you from across the room. She stood with her arms crossed, muscles tense beneath her tailored suit, exuding a dominant energy that made your heart race. Her presence commanded authority, and you could tell she was done playing your games.

Agatha, perched elegantly on the arm of a chair, tilted her head, her dark hair cascading over her shoulder. “You’ve been quite the little brat today, haven’t you?” she purred, her voice laced with dark amusement. “I think it’s time you learned some respect.” Her smile widened as she looked at Rio. “Don’t you agree, darling?”

Rio’s jaw clenched as she stepped closer, towering over you. “I’ve had enough,” she growled, her voice dripping with authority. “You’ve been begging for this all day, and now you’re going to get exactly what you deserve.”

Before you could respond, Rio’s hand was around your throat, not tight enough to hurt, but firm enough to remind you who was in charge. “On your knees,” she ordered, her eyes daring you to disobey.

You hesitated for a fraction of a second, testing the limits just once more. But that was all it took for Rio to tighten her grip slightly, her eyes blazing with warning. “Now.”

Your knees hit the floor, heart pounding in your chest. Agatha’s soft laughter echoed through the room as she watched the scene unfold, clearly enjoying every moment. “Good girl,” she cooed, her voice condescending as she stood up, walking over to stand beside Rio.

“You’ve been playing games, little one,” Agatha said, her fingers trailing along your jaw as she circled around you. “But now? Now we get to play our game.”

Rio’s hand moved from your throat, grabbing your chin to force you to look up at her. “And trust me,” she said, voice rough with restrained anger, “you’re not going to enjoy it nearly as much as we will.”

This was the consequence of pushing them too far. And deep down, as much as you feared what was to come, you knew part of you had been craving this all along.

With Rio the punishments were long and harsh. So the moment the words, "I think since she wants it so badly maybe we should overstimulate her?" Came out of her mouth to Agatha you were squirming.

The moment Rio's words hung in the air, your stomach twisted with anticipation. Overstimulation. You knew exactly what that meant, and your body reacted immediately, squirming under their combined gaze. A nervous whimper slipped from your lips as Rio’s grip on your chin tightened, her eyes dark with intent.

Agatha’s laugh was soft and cruel, sending shivers down your spine. She walked around you slowly, her heels clicking against the floor, creating an echo that only intensified the tension. "Oh, I like that idea," Agatha purred, her eyes gleaming with wicked delight. "Since she’s been such a brat, it’s only fair we give her exactly what she’s been asking for… more than she can handle.”

You could already feel the heat building within you, the fear and desire twisting together in a way that made it hard to breathe. Rio’s expression was unreadable, her face set in a hard line as she watched you struggle. There was no softness in her now—just the unyielding force of her authority. She had warned you, given you chances to behave, and now it was time to pay the price.

"Look at her," Agatha said, amusement dancing in her voice as she came to stand behind you, her fingers trailing down your back teasingly. "Already squirming and we haven’t even touched her properly yet.”

Rio’s lips curled into a small, dangerous smile as she knelt in front of you, her face inches from yours. “You wanted to push us all day. And now that you’ve got our attention, you’re going to wish you hadn’t.”

Without warning, Agatha’s hand slid into your hair, pulling your head back roughly, exposing your neck. “No more of your little games,” she whispered into your ear, her breath hot against your skin. “Now it’s our turn.”

Rio’s eyes flicked up to Agatha’s, a silent exchange passing between them before she turned her full attention back to you. “We’re going to take you apart, piece by piece,” Rio said, her voice low and authoritative. “And you’re going to take it, every last bit of it. No whining, no begging for it to stop.”

Agatha’s grip on your hair tightened as she forced you to look at Rio. “She’ll beg,” Agatha said with a smirk. “But we won’t be listening, will we?”

Your heart raced, the reality of your punishment sinking in. Rio’s hands were already trailing down your body, her touch firm but calculated. The sensation sent electric pulses through you, and you tried to hold still, knowing how much worse it would be if you squirmed too much. But the moment Rio’s hand slipped between your thighs, teasingly light at first, you couldn’t help the gasp that escaped.

“She’s already soaked,” Rio said, her voice dripping with satisfaction. “Guess she really does want this.”

“Of course she does,” Agatha cooed, her tone mocking as she let go of your hair and moved to kneel behind you. She pressed her body against yours, her breath ghosting over your neck as her hands roamed your sides. “She can pretend all she wants, but deep down, this is exactly what she craves. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

You didn’t answer, too lost in the overwhelming sensation of Rio’s touch, but Agatha didn’t seem to need a reply. Her teeth grazed your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “Don’t worry, we’ll take good care of you,” she whispered. “We’ll make sure you get exactly what you deserve… over and over again.”

And with that, Rio’s fingers pressed harder, slipping inside you, slow at first but deep. You moaned, your body tensing under the sudden intrusion, but it was only the beginning. Rio’s dark eyes locked onto yours, her gaze never wavering as she set a pace that was relentless, her fingers moving in a rhythm designed to push you closer to the edge.

Agatha’s hand snaked around your waist, her fingers tracing patterns on your skin while her lips found the sensitive spot on your neck. “No holding back now,” she murmured, her voice a dangerous promise. “You’re going to give us everything.”

The pleasure built quickly, too quickly, and you found yourself struggling to breathe, your body teetering on the brink. But just as you were about to fall over that edge, Rio stopped, pulling her hand away with a smirk as you gasped in frustration.

"Not yet," she said darkly. "We’re just getting started.”

A frustrated whine slipped from your throat, your body shaking with the denial of release. Agatha chuckled darkly behind you, her breath hot against the back of your neck as her hand wandered lower, fingers ghosting just over the spot where you needed her most.

"You’re going to learn patience," Agatha whispered, her voice a mixture of menace and playfulness. "You’ve been so eager, so desperate for attention all day. Now we’ll give it to you—but not in the way you want."

Rio leaned back slightly, still kneeling in front of you, her dark eyes gleaming with cruel satisfaction as she watched you squirm. “I told you,” she said, her voice steady and firm, “you’re not getting out of this until we decide you’ve had enough.” Her fingers teased your inner thighs, dangerously close but never giving you the satisfaction of more.

You tried to hold still, knowing it would only drag this out, but the combination of Agatha’s lips on your neck and Rio’s agonizingly slow touches had you trembling with need. Your breath came out in ragged gasps, and despite yourself, you shifted, trying to get more, but Rio’s hand pressed firmly on your thigh, keeping you still.

“Look at her,” Agatha purred, her lips curving into a smirk as she watched you struggle. “So needy, so desperate. It’s almost pitiful.” Her fingers slipped lower, just barely brushing over your clit, the brief contact sending a jolt of pleasure through your body.

You whimpered, hips jerking involuntarily, but Agatha pulled her hand away just as quickly, leaving you gasping in frustration. “Patience, little one,” she cooed mockingly, her voice dripping with condescension. “We’re nowhere near done with you yet.”

Rio’s fingers returned, slipping inside you again, but this time, her pace was torturously slow, dragging out every movement. She watched every twitch of your body, every gasp that escaped your lips, and she took her time, deliberately keeping you on the edge without ever letting you tip over.

“You’re going to beg by the time we’re done,” Rio said softly, her tone laced with a dangerous promise. “Beg for release, beg for mercy. But it won’t come until we’ve wrung every last ounce of control from you.”

Agatha’s laughter was low and amused as her hand came to rest on your throat, her grip just tight enough to remind you of your place. “And when you do beg,” she whispered into your ear, “we’ll make sure you remember exactly who you belong to.”

Your heart pounded in your chest as the weight of their control pressed down on you. They weren’t going to let you off easy—not after the way you’d pushed them all day. Agatha’s fingers returned, this time stroking your clit with feather-light touches that made you arch against her, desperate for more.

“Such a needy little thing,” she murmured, her lips brushing against your ear as she spoke. “But you’ll take what we give you. Nothing more.”

Rio’s pace quickened suddenly, fingers pumping in and out of you with precision, and the combined sensation of her and Agatha’s teasing touches had you spiraling toward release again. Your body tensed, breath catching in your throat as the pleasure built, unbearable and all-consuming.

But just as you were about to fall apart, Rio stopped again, pulling her hand away, leaving you gasping, trembling, and completely undone.

“Not yet,” she growled, eyes dark with amusement as you let out a strangled cry of frustration. “You don’t get to finish until we say so.”

Agatha’s grip tightened on your throat as she chuckled softly. “Oh, you poor thing. Don’t worry, you’ll get there eventually… but only after you’ve earned it.”

The frustration overwhelmed you, your body aching with the need for release, but you knew better than to beg. They’d been so clear—any sign of weakness would only fuel their cruelty further. Still, your legs trembled, your breath hitched, and despite your best efforts, a desperate whimper escaped your lips.

Agatha’s lips curved into a wicked smile at the sound. “Hear that, Rio? She’s already starting to break.”

Rio’s hand came up to cup your cheek, her thumb brushing lightly over your bottom lip. “Oh, she’ll break,” Rio said, voice low and deadly, “but not until we’ve had our fun.”

Her hand trailed back down between your legs, fingers slipping inside you once more with a roughness that made you gasp. This time, there was no teasing, no slow build. Rio’s pace was brutal, fingers thrusting deep inside you with a rhythm designed to push you toward the edge with terrifying speed.

Agatha’s fingers danced over your clit, circling, pressing, never giving you a moment of reprieve. Every nerve in your body was on fire, every muscle straining against the overwhelming sensations they were forcing on you.

You were teetering on the brink, the pleasure so intense it almost hurt, your mind spiraling as you struggled to hold yourself together. But there was no escape—not with Agatha’s hand tight around your throat, not with Rio’s relentless pace, not with both of them so focused on breaking you completely.

“You’re so close, aren’t you, sweetheart?” Agatha whispered, her voice like silk against your ear. “So close to giving in. To falling apart for us.”

Your body betrayed you, hips bucking against Rio’s hand as the pressure built and built, pushing you to the very edge of sanity. Your breaths were shallow, gasping, as the pleasure became too much, your mind hazy from the overwhelming sensations.

Rio’s eyes met yours, her gaze hard and unforgiving. “Come,” she commanded, her voice leaving no room for argument. “Come for us now.”

It wasn’t a request. It was an order. And the moment the words left her mouth, your body responded, finally letting go. You cried out, back arching, every muscle tensing as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you, so intense it left you trembling and breathless. The orgasm ripped through you, relentless and overwhelming, pushing you to the point where you couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe—couldn’t do anything but feel.

But they didn’t stop.

Agatha’s fingers kept working your clit, drawing out every ounce of pleasure as Rio’s thrusts didn’t slow, didn’t falter. You were still riding the high of your release when it became too much, the overstimulation hitting you like a shock to your system. You squirmed, tried to pull away, but there was no escaping their control.

“Ah, ah,” Agatha teased, her grip on your throat tightening slightly as she kept you in place. “We’re not finished with you yet.”

The sensations became unbearable, your body writhing with the intensity of it all. You whimpered, legs shaking as another orgasm built, faster this time, the pleasure merging with the pain of overstimulation until you couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began.

“Look at her,” Rio growled, her pace merciless as she pushed you through the second wave of pleasure. “Falling apart so beautifully.”

You were too far gone to respond, your body shuddering as another climax ripped through you, your mind a haze of white-hot pleasure and overwhelming exhaustion. Agatha’s grip finally loosened as she leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to your temple, her voice a purr in your ear.

“There’s our good girl,” she cooed softly, her tone dripping with satisfaction. “Now you’ve learned your lesson.”

Rio’s fingers finally slowed, drawing out the last of your pleasure before she pulled away, leaving you breathless and trembling on the floor. She wiped her hand on a nearby cloth, her expression cool and collected as she stood up, towering over you once more.

“You’ll behave tomorrow,” Rio said, her voice dark and certain, “or this will seem like mercy compared to what we’ll do next time.”

Agatha smiled sweetly as she knelt beside you, her hand brushing a lock of hair from your damp forehead. “But don’t worry, darling. If you do behave,” she murmured, “we might even be nice to you.”

You lay there, exhausted and utterly spent, as they both stood over you, their presence still commanding, still powerful.

You’d pushed them too far, and they had broken you, exactly as promised.

#ley writes #ley writes one shots #leys kinktober writing #agatha harkness #agatha harkness x fem!reader #agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness x rio vidal #rio vidal x reader #rio vidal #rio vidal x fem!reader #subby!reader #bratty!fem!reader

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harknessxo · 3 months ago

Note

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.”

#fanfic #smut #x reader #agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness #agatha x reader #agatha all along #dark!agatha

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wordsarelife · 3 months ago

Text

—the alchemy

pairing: jj maybank x fem!routledge reader

summary: you always had a thing for jj, while you thought he had a thing for kie. you couldn't have been more wrong..

warnings: none i think

notes: i have absolutely no clue how to play poker, so please don't grill me lmao

the water glistened, reflecting the afternoon sun. you dunked your feet inside, hanging from the bridge you were sitting on. it was lightly moving due to the waves beneath it.

you kept your eyes trained on the horizon, but looking at nothing in particular.

jj came running from the shore, sitting down beside you, letting his feet dangle into the water next to yours. "john b is making food"

"what could he possibly be making?" you smiled, clearly knowing that there wasn't much left in the pantry. you got through the day alright, thanks to both of you working, but you didn't buy any extraordinary things to make sure you had enough money to pay everything else.

“we’re having toast,” jj smirked, then paused for dramatic effect. “but we raided heyward’s for tomatoes, and kiara brought guac from her mom. so it’s fancy toast.”

“fancy toast! the ritz could never.” you hugged your knees to your chest, resting your chin on them, but a smile crept up on your lips.

"what are you even doing out here alone?"

"i'm thinking"

"about your dad?" jj asked carefully. "you know I’m here if you need to spill. no judgment. not even if it’s super depressing.”

"thanks, i know" you were thankful that you had such great friends. people that were like family to you and always made sure you were alright, even if they didn't have much to give themselves, apart from kiara.

"are you going to surf the surge tomorrow?" jj changed the topic, interpreting your silence as answer enough.

"heard agatha's gonna be a bitch" you shrugged. "must be nice to lose a few unnecessary limbs"

"don't be ridiculous, i'm a pro" jj took the sunglasses off his head and pushed them on your nose instead. "are you coming or not?"

"i prefer not to" you giggled, slapping his hand away as he tried to readjust the rest of your apperance. "gonna look good for cps"

"they won't even make it out here, agatha will arrive too soon for that"

"well, then i should be thanking her, right?" you looked up to the sky, the sun still breaking through the slowly arriving clouds, but the darkness of them made it evident that it wouldn't take too long for the storm to arrive. "thanks aggy! sorry for calling you a bitch"

"if that isn't nice" jj grinned. "look at you! such a polite lady"

"told you i could behave better than you" you stood up and waited for him to do the same. "i'm pretty sure they just told you to go and get me not to wait out until they had finished the food, right?"

"caught me" jj shrugged. you knew him well enough to guess that he was trying to escape more work than necessary. "but it did take some time to find you. you weren't in the tower john b locked you in"

"oh, maybe i'm not as well behaved as we thought" you shrugged, following him back to the beach. "you need those sunglasses soon?" you liked the red tinted look of them. you had worn them before and you loved that they made you look like a hippie or vanessa hudgens going to coachella in 2014.

“keep ‘em,” jj shrugged, giving you an exaggerated once-over. “you look better in them anyway.”

you raised an eyebrow, genuinely curious. “how much did these cost?”

jj spun around, pretending to be offended. “whoa, whoa! don’t insult me like that. i didn’t pay for them.”

you laughed. “you stole these?”

“they were like six dollars, okay? i stole them out of principle.” he wiggled his eyebrows like that somehow made sense.

you shook your head amused. “jj, that’s still stealing.”

“nah, see, i was planning on giving them to you for a while, so really, it was a selfless act. call it proactive gift-giving.”

jj’s face lit up, the trademark smirk in place as you walked side by side back toward the beach. he kicked at the sand a little, glancing over at you every few seconds like he was waiting for you to laugh again.

you could hear the others before you saw them—john b shouting something about the toast burning, and kiara’s voice cutting through with, “how do you even burn toast?!”

“so, what’s the plan after we survive this gourmet meal?” you asked, your tone only half-teasing.

jj rubbed his hands together with a glint in his eyes. “well, after we feast on fancy toast and whatever leftovers kiara’s mom sent, i was thinking… poker.”

“poker? don’t we always lose when we play with pope?”

“yeah, but he’s working today, so we have a chance.” jj wiggled his eyebrows as if this were the best news in the world.

you laughed, shaking your head. “so, your plan is to take all my money after i generously agree to participate in poker?”

jj’s smirk deepened. “well, since you’re wearing those shades, you’re bound to win. you’ve got that poker-face-hippie thing going on.”

you shrugged, pretending to think about it. “true. i could absolutely bluff the hell out of you all.”

he nodded seriously. “exactly. so really, it’s your civic duty to play.”

“civic duty,” you repeated, laughing. “sure, sure.”

"sit down, you two" kiara ancouraged when you walked onto the patio.

"where have you been that long?" john b questioned, looking at you suspiciously. "you're always sneaking around together"

"don't be ridicilous, b" you shook your head. "we were just watching the waves"

kiara and jj exchanged glances you didn’t quite understand. it made your nerves tweak to not know what they were hinting at.

“i bet it was a sight so see” kiara said softly, a smirk on her face.

jj nodded. “as always” he shrugged, his eyes still on her.

you had to try hard not to let your face distort into jealousy. you had had a crush on jj for as long as you could remember. and the two of you were close, but nothing ever really happened with your brothers best friend.

being in love with jj was confusing. most of the time, he treated you just like anyone else, acting completely normal. but then, out of nowhere, he'd start flirting, leaving you unsure of what to think.

even though you tried your best, the crush on the boy always resurfaced when he would flirt with you once more, keeping your hopes up.

the meal continued without anything happening and you found yourselves cleaning the table to play a few rounds of poker like jj had promised.

"looks like you're in a tough spot" he grinned.

kiara had put down her cards, while you were trying hard to keep a straight face, knowing you would probably lose.

you shrugged. "i don't see you putting down anything valuable, maybank"

"ohh" kiara and your brother hollored at the same time.

"well, let's see then" kiara nudged jj's shoulder.

the blonde smirked before he revealed his cards to you, flushing a street. "you've underestimated me, guys"

john b and you sighed simultaneously, accepting defeat as you threw your own cards in the middle. while jj was busy mixing the cards, kiara took a look at her phone.

"i think i better head out" she smiled, standing up from her chair. "my mother's gonna go crazy if i'm late again"

you played a few more rounds after the girl had left, john b and you losing to jj each time. you were sure he had gotten help from pope, knowing that his time would come.

john b threw down his cards after one more uneventful round. "i'm heading to bed" he nodded, pulling his snapback down, before he highfived jj and pressed a kiss to your hair. "don't stay up too late"

"night, b" you smiled as you watched after him.

"one more round?" jj giggled.

"i'm all out" you shrugged, pointing at the pile of money on the table in front of him.

"well, if i lose you can have all of it"

"this sounds almost too good" you muttered. "okay, what if i lose then?"

"you'll take off your shirt" he shrugged.

"jj!" you pushed a hand to your mouth, draining out the scream of outrage that threatened to errupt in the air between you.

"what?" jj smirked, looking up at you with wide blue eyes. "am i making you nervous?"

"not a chance," you shot back, trying to keep your voice steady despite the way your heart was hammering in your chest. jj's smirk widened, the mischievous glint in his eyes only growing as he shuffled the cards one more time.

"alright then," he said, dealing the cards smoothly. "prove it."

you glanced at your hand, trying to keep your expression neutral. jj's eyes flickered up to meet yours, watching you intently, and you couldn't tell if he was bluffing or not.

you took a deep breath and played the first card, trying to focus on the game instead of the way jj was watching you like a hawk.

the next few minutes were tense, each of you placing cards with care. it was almost suffocating.

"you're really dragging this out, you know that?" you muttered, glancing up at him.

jj just grinned, his eyes glinting with amusement. "patience, sweetheart. good things come to those who wait," he replied, his voice low and teasing. you rolled your eyes but couldn't help the slight tug at the corners of your mouth.

finally, it came down to the last card. you had one left in your hand, and so did jj. your eyes met, the room silent except for the sound of your heartbeat in your ears. You hesitated for a split second, then threw down your card.

jj's eyes flickered to the table, his face breaking into a triumphant grin. he laid his final card down with a laugh.

"looks like i win," he drawled, his voice smug. your eyes widened as you stared at the cards, disbelief washing over you. how did he keep doing this?

"you've got to be cheating," you grumbled, pushing back from the table. jj laughed, the sound warm, filling the quiet night air around you.

"well, you agreed to do this" he shrugged, like he was completely in the right.

you looked at him without any expression on your face, before you sighed, your fingers dipping down to meet the material of your shirt, as you stood up.

jj's eyes widened at your movement, standing up at the same time. "it was a joke, y/n" he muttered quickly. "you don't have to do anything you don't want to"

you halted in your movement. "if you had won, would you have given me the money, like you promised?"

"of course" jj answered without so much as a thought.

your smile deepend, before your fingers gripped the hem of the shirt, pulling it over you head in a quick motion. revealed was your bikini top. the one jj had seen you in a million times, but still his eyes widened even further.

jj's mouth opened slightly, his usual cocky demeanor vanishing as he stared at you. he remembered seeing you in it before, but this still felt different. maybe it was the intimacy of the dimly lit patio, or the way you stood before him now, your eyes steady and unwavering. you had called his bluff, and he was utterly speechless.

"see?" you said, trying to keep your voice light despite the rapid thudding of your heart. "no big deal. just a bikini, jj."

he swallowed hard, finally snapping out of his daze. "right," he said, his voice cracking slightly. he cleared his throat, his gaze darting away before quickly finding its way back to you. "just a bikini."

you walked around the table, pushing yourself between him and the discarded chair. "this can't really be the reason you're so uneasy"

you tried to read the emotion on his face, but he just looked at you, at a loss for words. you softly pushed your hand to rest against his chest. your eyes widened in surprise. "your heart is racing" you declared with a soft whisper.

"yeah" jj finally found his words. "you're so close"

you looked up at him, surprised at what he was hinting at. "i'm sorry if i'm making you uncomfortable" you tried to step back, but his hand shot out, holding you in place by your elbow.

"jj" you muttered, your voice barely audible. you could feel your heart beat just as fast as his did.

"have i ever told you how beautiful you are?" jj's voice was soft and tender, like he was trying not to disrupt the calmness of the moment.

"no" you sighed, unsure. he came closer, your noses were almost touching. his eyes were ready to close, not far from kissing you. your voice rung out before he could do anything of that sort. "what about kie?"

"what?" jj blinked in surprise, stepping backwards.

"what about kie?" you repeated a little bit louder.

"what about her?" jj laughed, before he saw the confusion in your eyes.

"i thought there was something—“

"between me and kie?" he smiled, shaking his head. "well only that she knew about my crush on you"

"you have a crush on me?"

"i thought it was kinda obvious" he pointed a finger between the both of you. "can i please finally kiss you now, routledge?"

you smiled, your heart fluttering in your chest at his confession. "of course" you watched him step closer once more, before you grinned. "but what about—?"

"—oh would you shut up now?" he pushed his lips against yours, drowning out your giggle as your smile touched his mouth like it was supposed to.

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hello-there · 9 days ago

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#tumblr communities #communities

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lowkeyerror · 26 days ago

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Help With The Curriculum

Agatha Harkness x Reader

Word count: 3.5k

Notes: Professor!Harkness, Professor!Reader, smut, cunnulingus, fingering, dirty talk, thigh riding, pregnancy/breeding kink mentioned, Let me know if there are more

Summary: Both you and Agatha are history professors at university. The students often compare your courses so Agatha attends one of your lectures. She asks you to go to dinner with her, to help her come up with a more engaging curriculum. Just meal between two educators... until it’s not

An: I see a lot of professor Agatha content and I wanted in 🤷‍♀️.

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Professor Harkness was a scary woman. You had heard students mumble about her in the hallways and in your own classroom as well. They’re were often a lot of comparisons between the two of you, considering you were both history professors.

Students who ended up in your course before it filled up, were considered the lucky ones. Anyone else had to take on professor Harkness.

Her approach to teaching was very no-nonsense and straight-forward. Some described her lectures as too complex to follow, her paper to hard to tackle, and her attitude too much to handle.

The way they spoke about her and her course, made you feel like you were doing something wrong. You hadn’t struck fear of failure into your students. It was their money and time that they were wasting if they consistently did poorly, in your opinion.

Agatha and yourself had roughly the same success rate amongst the students. The averages were high and for that you were grateful.

You slowly paced the lecture hall as you spoke. Your voice bounced off the walls, accompanied by the low hums of laptops and the sound of typing.

The class was nearly over, but you wanted to make sure the students were prepared for the upcoming exam, so you made sure to hammer the last few points in.

“Alright, I know it’s a 3-day weekend and you all plan to make the most of it, but you should make some time to study too. When you come back, we’ll review and then the following class will be a test. Have a good weekend everyone.”

With your dismissal, everyone began to gather their things and exit the lecture hall. You head back to your desk and begin to organize some of the students’ papers.

“Your approach is a lot better than they give you credit for.”

You lift your head to meet the voice. Professor Harkness is sat in one of seats, eyes focused on you.

“Professor Harkness, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

She rises from her seat and makes her way over to your desk, “I just had to see you lecture in person. The students talk you know?”

You hum, “What do they say?”

She tilts her head in faux-thought, “Something along the line of you being a much better lecturer than I am and how your class has a better ‘vibe’ than mine.”

You chuckle at her antics, “Well, you started off by saying I deserve more credit for my work.”

Her smile is sly, “You do, because they talk about you like you’re some kind of pushover, but you don’t really come off like that.”

You shrug, “Gossip doesn’t stop in high school. We’re both good educators. Roughly the same results with the students as well. Did you come to just scope me out?”

“I was hoping to talk curriculum with you. I’ve been trying to find something more interesting, that keeps them engaged, but still feels on path with the course?”

You nod along to her words, “Sounds good, do you have anything in mind?”

“Too many to count, if I’m being honest. Maybe we can figure something out together over dinner?”

Your head stops bobbing and you give her your full attention, “Dinner?”

Professor Harkness doubles down, “Dinner. Nothing crazy, just a meal between colleagues. I’ll pick you up at 8.”

You begin to scribble a few words on a piece of paper, then hand the paper to the other professor, “I will see you tonight, Professor Harkness.”

She tucks your address into the pocket of her jacket, “Please, just Agatha.”

“Alright, Agatha, I’ll see you tonight,” her name holds weight on your tongue.

She shines you an award winning smile, “Later Professor L/n.”

Before you can correct her she’s turned her back on you opting to exit the hall. Your eyes linger on her figure as she walks out. It feels like there's an extra pep in her step, a sway in her hips, a happiness that is rarely seen on the woman. The thought that you had that kind of effect on her made you smile a little.

She was an attractive woman. It was the combination of her intellect, her charm, and her appearance. Agatha was a perfect 10 in all of the categories. It was hard not to feel something for her. Having dinner with her might be the best part of the three-day weekend.

With the distraction from Agatha, you couldn't go back to grading papers. Your body has finally caught up to your mind and you began to fluster as you thought about tonight. You already had your last class for the day so you decide to just go home.

Before you settle in too much, you go through your closet, trying to find something to wear. You had no idea, where you were going. It made it hard to pick something to wear. She did say that this was nothing crazy, and you were technically just going to talk about the curriculum, so did you really need to go all out?

You ended up going with something that was simple, but elevated. Once you had your outfit sorted out, you went to get ready. A good shower, brushing your teeth, washing your face, and doing your hair, were all things you did.

It was 8pm sharp when your doorbell rang. You took in a deep breath, shaking the nerves away.

“It’s just dinner,” you mumble to yourself, opening the door.

To your relief Agatha isn’t super dressed up either. She’s wearing clothes that are nice, but casual. A round pair of glasses sit on her face, she looks cute in them.

“You look good,” she says taking in your attire.

“I could say the same to you,” you return the compliment.

“Shall we?”

You step out of your house and the two of you walk side by side to her car. She opens the door for you and you slide in the passenger seat. When she gets in the driver’s seat, she begins to speak.

“Before we go anywhere, I have to ask… are we above going to Chili’s?”

You laugh at her question, “What, are we too old for a triple dipper and $6 margaritas?”

“I don't think I’ll ever be too old for a $6 marg.”

“Then what are we waiting for?”

There’s a comfortable silence that envelopes the two of you on the drive. You hum quietly along to the music playing on the radio. You notice Agatha tapping her finger to the beat against the steering wheel.

Your gaze hyper fixates on the details of her hand. There were pronounced veins running along the top, her fingers were slender, and her knuckles were rosy. Her nails seemed to be manicured, but no paint was placed over them.

When you arrive at Chili’s you are surprised to be seated quickly amongst the busy establishment. It was a Friday night leading into a three- day weekend so, the crowd was as large as they expected it to be. Both of you are quick to order a margarita before even looking at the menu.

“So, have you narrowed down any of the choices for the curriculum?”

Agatha seems uncertain as she speaks, “How do you feel about Salem?”

You raise your brow, “Massachusetts?”

Agatha rolls her eyes, but laughs, “Where else, professor?”

“First off, it’s Y/n. Secondly, I was just clarifying. I think Salem is a city filled with history,” you add.

“Is it college-level interesting though? Do you think the students will think it's childish?”

You shake your head, “I’m sure with your teaching style you could make SpongeBob seem like important government documents.”

She laughs, “Be honest, I know you hear students’ gossip, is my course really that much harder than yours?”

You shrug, “Everything is dramatic at their age, I’d have to take a page from your book and sit in on your lecture to see.”

Agatha smiles slyly, “You’re welcome to pop in at any time.”

“Did my lecture seem like a cake walk to you?”

“No, I have a feeling you just sound nicer than I do,” Agatha reveals.

You shake your head, “I think you’re nice.”

She rolls her eyes again, “I’m nice to you, but that’s different.”

You challenge her, “How so?”

The professor seems to fluster a bit, luckily she has a chance to regroup when the waitress comes to take your order. Once she walks away, Agatha thinks she had successfully dodged the question, but you don't let the topic go so suddenly.

“I’m waiting Professor Harkness.”

She scratches the back of her neck, “Well we are colleagues, so it’s a different type of dynamic.”

You hum, “Interesting, but you didn't say you're nice to all the professors, just to me. I don’t mean to assume, but I don’t know if I can say your reputation is only infamous with the student body. I’m pretty sure Professor Lewis is terrified of you.”

“What do you want me to say? You’re easy on the eyes sweetheart.”

You feel your face heat with her words. It’s now you that is sputtering for response, “I- uh-"

“Lucky, we teach history and not English,” Agatha teases you further.

Your mouth opens in shock, “You enjoy seeing me flustered like this?”

Agatha leans back in her seat, “I’m not going to say that I don’t enjoy seeing you flustered. I think it’s adorable.”

You scoff playfully, “So you asked me out just to see me flustered then? Because it seems like you had Salem in mind this whole time. Meaning you just wanted to have some one-on-one time with me, professor.”

Agatha begins to stumble over words like you had moments prior. Her cheeks taking on a light pink shade as you had caught her red handed.

“Would you have agreed otherwise?”

You see her looking at the table. You reach across placing your hand in hers. The movement causes her to meet your gaze. You smile at her sweetly.

“Agatha, I agreed anyway. I had a feeling you didn't need my help, considering you've been doing this longer than I have. I'm sure you could've asked Professor Vidal if you really needed a good opinion.”

“Rio is too annoying to ask. I still would've asked you, even if I wasn't drawn to you.”

You chuckle to yourself, “Drawn to me, huh? I felt your eyes on me the entire lecture. I wonder if you even heard anything I said.”

Agatha bites her lip, “What can I say? Your outfit was distracting professor.”

“Maybe next time we can do something about that,” you say to her suggestively.

“Something like what?”

Your food comes in the middle of the conversation. You pull your hand out of hers to grab a fry. You pop the fry into your mouth.

“Maybe take it off, if it’s such a distraction.”

Agatha's eyes darken, “Don’t threaten me with a good time, sweetheart.”

You don't fold under her stare, “I don't make threats Agatha, just promises.”

“Do you want to get out of here?”

The question is all it takes for you to quickly pay and get to go boxes for your food. The anticipation only builds once you’re in the car. You can hardly keep yourself from losing control right there.

Agatha drives you to her place. You barely get through the door when she’s shoving your back against it. Her lips on yours. Your hands fall into the dips of her hips, while her’s rest on your face. You kiss her back with fervor. It’s clear to you that she wants to dominate you, but you don’t know if you want her to do that.

You pull away slightly out of breath, “Nice place, professor.”

“The bedroom is the best room in the house,” she returns equally out of breath.

“Show me.”

When you get to the bedroom it’s you pushing her against the wall. Your lips attach to her neck sucking harshly.

“Possessive much?” You can feel the vibration of her throaty chuckle against your lips.

You bite down on her exposed skin before soothing it with your tongue, “Is there someone else marking you up like this?”

Her breath hitches at the tone in your voice, “No.”

“Good, because you’re mine now and I don’t like sharing.”

In a swift motion her shirt is over her head and you’re kissing once again. The feeling of her bare skin against your hands only fuels the passion between you. She’s warm and her skin is soft.

Your hand trails down past the waistband of her pants straight for her cunt. She’s already soaked for you. You groan at the feeling of her wetness on your fingers.

“So ready for me baby.”

She whines for you, “Please, inside.”

“Patience professor, you can't have a body like this and expect me not to want to explore it a bit.”

You pull your hand from her underwear. You opt to kiss the top of her breasts while you unhook her bra. Her hands tangle in your hair. As soon as they’re free, your mouth latches on to one of her nipples.

You suckle them, swirling your tongue around the already stiff bud.

“Teeth baby, I like it a little rough.”

You comply, your teeth scraping the skin eagerly. Biting, marking, claiming her as your own. Her hands fall from your hair to climb up your shirt.

“I need to feel you,” she whispers.

You fumble with your shirt and pull it over your head. You see her eyes dilate as she has a full view of your abdomen. She meets your gaze as to ask for permission. Your response is taking your bra off. She takes a hand full of your breasts and you sigh in relief.

She massages them tenderly. At the same time she guides you to the bed. Your back hits the mattress and she straddles your waist. The way she touches you makes you warm on the insides; it’s addictive.

Your hips buck under her weight. She smiles slyly grinding down against your pants. The feeling is obscured by the fabric in-between and so you become desperate to remove it. You start with the button to her jeans. She stands to pull them off and you shimmy yours off while lying on the bed.

You groan at the sight of Agatha’s dripping core. She tries to climb back on to your waist but you use her arms to move her higher up your body. She doesn’t resist, resting her thighs on either side of your head.

Having a whiff of her arousal makes you lose your composure. You bury your face into her juicy pussy.

“Fuck,” she can’t help but rut against your ravenous tongue. “You look so hot under me, baby. God, I’d give you an A plus in eating me out.”

You grunt against her at the praise. Your arms hook over her thighs, keeping her in place.

“Don’t stop,” she roughly grabs your hair, biting her lip as she chases her high.

You take the new pace in stride. Your lips enclose her clit, sucking harshly, remembering her request to be rough. Your hot breath on her clit mixed with the intense sucking is almost enough to make her cum. It’s when your teeth gnaw experimentally at her clit that she comes undone.

From this angle you can see her pussy clenching around nothing. You can’t help yourself as you stick two fingers inside of her. Slowly you pump in and out of her, relishing in the feeling of her walls around your fingers.

“Can you give me another professor?”

“As many as you want, baby. Keep fucking me all night,” she cries out.

You begin pumping at a sharper tempo. You add a third finger and not long after, she’s cumming again.

Finally you move her back into your lap, sitting up to bombard her with your lips. She needed to taste how sweet she was. You only break the kiss to shove your fingers in her mouth.

She hums, bobbing her head up and down your fingers. The sight alone makes your cunt ache. You realize how soaked you are in that moment. Her mouth is almost just as tight and warm as her cunt.

When your fingers fall from her mouth, you gasp. You don’t have a clue as to when Agatha’s hand had neared your pooling heat, but it did. She pulls your panties to the side easily slipping a finger inside of you. Your head falls on her shoulder and she chuckles.

“All worked up from having my pussy in your mouth, sweetheart? My taste has you this wet.”

You nod against her, “All for you, professor. You taste so sweet.”

“And how do you taste sweetheart?”

She slips the finger was inside of you, into her mouth. Her eyes close at the taste, “Fuck, I need more of you.”

She lays you back with your legs hanging off of the edge of the bed. She kneels on the floor, spreading you further for her. Her finger slips back into you and her mouth begins to leave hot open kisses on your thighs. They pace up your thighs before lapping up the drool that spills out of your cunt as she fingers you.

Your hand reaches to caress her face, “I was looking at your fingers in the car. Long, sharp, dexterous, wondering if they would fill me up good, if they would wrap around my neck, and… fuck you feel so good inside of me Agatha.”

With her fingers still inside you she wraps her free hand around your neck, and comes off of the floor to kiss you. Your mouth vibrates against her’s, the pleasure from her fingers making it impossible for you to be quiet.

Agatha pulls away just enough to look into your eyes. She begins to use her thumb to toy with your clit, unwilling to break eye contact.

“Next time, I’ll let you fuck me with a strap. As fast and hard as you want. I’ll shut up and take it for however long you want, in whatever positions you want. How would you fuck me baby?”

You can feel yourself getting impossibly more wet with each one of her words. Her movements slow as you fail to answer.

You begin to squirm, mewling under her will, “Riding me, I-I want to see you bounce on my cock. Your hair to the side trying to steady yourself when I start fucking into you.”

She positions herself so she could grind against your thigh while fingering you.

“How else?”

You gulp involuntary as she moves her hair to one side of her face, “Standing with your face against the wall and my hand around your neck.”

You watch as Agatha fingers you and you feel yourself falling over the edge. She squeezes your throat a little and your eyes drift to her.

“One more baby, I need one more.”

You tense your thigh for her. You make sure your eyes are hard as you look for her, “ I want you on your knees, teary eyed as I fuck your face. I want to hear you gag on it, and fuck if I could I’d shoot my load down your throat. I’d pull you up from the floor and put you in mating press and pound your pussy. I don’t care how sloppy it would get. I want to cum inside you, fill you up. Fuck Agatha, if I could get you pregnant, I’d keep breeding you until we had enough to fill a lecture hall. I’d hold my cum hostage in your cunt, the only way it’d come out is if I decide to eat it out of you.”

You feel her movements stutter on your thigh as an ungodly moan spills from her mouth. The floodgates open and you feel her squirting all over your thigh. The sight of her squirting on you sent you over the edge. You come hard, arching your back off of her bed. Her arms pull your back fully off the bed, so your head is resting against her chest. Your arms are slightly stronger as the hold her up. Her chin rest on the top of your head. Both of you struggle to catch your breath.

“Can I tell you something?” You mumble against her skin.

“Hmm.”

You close your eyes, “I also want to fuck you in the lecture hall; between classes.”

She shivers in your hold, “You aren’t as innocent as you look.”

“You bring it out of me, professor” you lift your head to meet her with a delicate kiss.

“Are you hungry? I was thinking we could shower, heat the food, and maybe watch a movie,” she plays with your hair as she speaks.

You nod, “That sounds perfect."

You wait a few moments, expecting her to get up, “Uh Agatha.”

“I’ll let you know when I think my legs are ok to move,” she answers the question you didn’t even have to ask.

You laugh at her, unable to hold it in. She smacks your shoulder playfully, but it doesn’t stop you.

This wouldn’t be a one-time thing. There was no way that you were willingly to let the sparks between the two of you die here. You had a feeling that Agatha felt the same. There are many more dates to be had, many more nights to spend together, and many more mind-blowing orgasms to give each other.

Next part

#lowkeyerror #agatha x reader #agatha harkness imagine #agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness

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witchesverse · 2 months ago

Text

sex club.

pairing: agathario x fem!reader

summary: agatha and rio punish you after you brat out during a sex party.

content: mistress kink, public sex, kneeling, choking, bruising, degradation, name calling (mutt), strap-on sex, slapping, punishment, begging, pain kink, mean!agathario, dom!agatha, switch!rio, sub!reader, slightly bratty!rio.

masterlist

Her grip didn't falter and her fingernails dug into your arm as she shoved past people, pulling you along like a lifeless doll.

"Please, Rio."

You cringed as she turned around. Her eyebrow was raised and her lips were pursed. Her other hand twitched and you could tell she was holding back.

"You know that's not how you address me." She hissed and her grip tightened.

You swallowed.

"I'm sorry, mistress."

She huffed and continued pulling you through the crowd of people, clearly angered by your disobedience.

Your disobedience was nothing new, but it still bothered Rio and Agatha to the point where they had you bruised all over, and this time was no different.

Rio and Agatha wanted to host a sex party for a few friends and clients; by a few, they meant at least 40 people. You figured that you would be passed around, but no. Rio had forced you to kneel naked at her feet whilst she watched other people being passed around.

The rules were 'simple': Don't complain, stay kneeling, only look at her, and behave.

So, of course, you didn't do any of that. The entire time, you were whining, standing on your knees, glancing around the room, and biting at her thigh.

Multiple times she had slapped your face and reprimanded you, but you didn't stop. Finally, she pulled you to your feet and took you to Agatha.

"Deal with this stupid mutt." Rio snapped as she entered the room Agatha was sitting in.

Her hair was damp and she had a towel wrapped around her body. She had probably just finished a session with her client.

Rio's hand roughly met your cheek and you cried out in pain.

"Don't ever call me Rio like that again." She snapped, pushing you towards Agatha.

You stumbled into Agatha's arms and hid your face in her neck, whining about Rio's meanness. Agatha patted your bare arse with a chuckle and repositioned you to sit in her lap.

Her towel had dropped to her hips, revealing her boobs. You brushed your fingers against her nipple but Agatha grabbed your hand, pinning it to her thigh.

"Can't you ever behave?" She tucked her finger under your chin, smiling at the small pout on your lips.

You heard Rio sigh and a bag zip open. You tried to look over at the noises, but Agatha kept a tight hold on your chin. You whined loudly and tried to pull away from her, but Agatha tsked and tightened her grip.

"So fucking noisy," Rio said.

A cloth was placed over your eyes and tied around your head. You were moved from Agatha's lap and put on the bed. You heard some shuffling then soft moans. Your hands shot to the blindfold, preparing to remove it, but magic wrapped around your wrists and pinned them to the bed.

"Stay." Said the women in unison.

You grumbled something under your breath but it went ignored.

The sound of moans and kisses filled the room, making your thighs clench together. You heard the shedding of clothes and someone fell onto the bed. Rio loudly moaned and the noises of wet pussy filled the room.

You swore you were going to cry from frustration. You wanted to lift the fabric from your eyes and watch them badly but couldn't.

Stupid fabric.

"Awe, is someone getting frustrated?" Rio mocked. Her voice was gaspy and high-pitched; she was getting close. Even when she was on the edge of an orgasm she could be a bitch to you.

"Please." You cried.

"Begging already? Pathetic." Agatha laughed.

Rio gasped and her magic around your wrists faltered, giving you the perfect moment to rip the fabric off. The sight of Rio lying naked and twitching underneath Agatha as she came down from her orgasm made you throb.

"And of course, you can't listen for more than 5 minutes." Rio sighed and pushed herself to her knees.

She wrapped her hand around your throat and shoved you into the mattress. You whimpered and tried to kick her away but miserably failed.

Your vision started to speckle black and you felt dizzy from the lack of oxygen. Agatha had to pull Rio away by her hair.

"Get your fucking-"

"Don't you dare. I will flip this punishment to you." Agatha snarled, her grasp tight. "Is that what you want? To be punished?"

You watched the fire rise in Rio's eyes and then vanish. She adverted her eyes to the ground and muttered an apology. Agatha kissed her on the head and turned her attention back to you.

Magic returned to your limbs, forcing your hands above your head and your legs to be spread. Both witches grinned at how wet you were.

Rio - who was now wearing a black strap-on - crawled between your thighs and lined her fake dick to your pussy. She glanced at Agatha, who gave her permission before slowly sliding into you.

You cried and dug your fingernails into your palms as she stretched your walls and forced you to take her entire length. She has never been the one to let you adjust.

Agatha appeared behind her, kissing and sucking at her neck. She placed her hands on Rio's hips and guided her thrusts.

The room was filled with the sounds of your and Rio’s moans and whines. Agatha brushed her fingers against Rio’s erect nipples, pulling a broken whimper from her.

“Are my girls getting close?” husked Agatha.

Neither of you could respond in a coherent way.

Agatha whispered something in Rio’s ear and you felt your heart drop when an evil smile spread across Rio’s face.

“Please, mistress! I’m sorry, please.” You begged “Please, don’t do that.”

When they didn’t respond, you knew your pleasure wouldn’t last much longer. Normally, you would hold your orgasms off until you were given permission to cum, but you knew you wouldn’t get that permission and there was no way you weren’t going to cum.

With one more thrust, your orgasm washed over you. It didn’t last for long as Rio immediately pulled out and slapped your face.

You grinned as she started to yell at you and call you names. You could see she wanted to hurt you, but Agatha wouldn’t let her, not here, at least.

“Fucking brat. I’m going to make you regret that. Get up, now.”

You pouted and looked at Agatha for sympathy, who only shrugged and stepped back.

You were hers, but she didn’t own you. You were Rio’s toy as Rio was her toy. She never interferes with Rio’s punishments unless she sees her toy acting in a way she shouldn’t.

“You dug that hole yourself, princess.” Agatha said “Now, you’re gonna deal with it.”

You swallowed and looked back at Rio. She was going to destroy you, but that orgasm was worth it.

#agathario x reader #agathario x you #agathario x y/n #agatha harkness x reader #rio vidal x reader #agatha harkness smut #rio vidal smut #agatha all along #agatha and rio #rio and agatha

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cuinaminute229 · 2 months ago

Text

With death comes life

pairing: Agatha x Rio x reader

summary: To fall in love with both life and death is almost impossible. They contradict each other, they are different sides to the same coin. Agatha once managed the impossible. But time and grief can break almost anything, and this time it breaks what feels like everything.

a/n: there will be more parts to this. I find this dynamic rather interesting and I am definitely going to explore it. not a lot of warning in this part except for mild swearing. slightly protective Rio.

...

Life and Death go hand in hand.

One can not exist without the other.

It’s a partnership that transcends time itself.

Agatha Harkness does not understand this. She can not, because for the longest time all she has ever known is death.

All she has ever done is take. She takes and takes and takes until there is nothing left to give. Until there is nothing left you can give.

Death will love her. Life will despise her.

That is how it will be for centuries.

…

The witches’ road is a place that does not welcome you. It fights you every step of the way.

It is a graveyard. It takes what it wants without thoughts of sympathy or solace. It digs up fear and trauma like gold. It twists and stretches and tears the desires of witches brave enough to step foot on the road.

You hate it and yet you are summoned.

The dirt between your fingers is a sensation that feels as familiar as holding death's hand. Clawing your way from beneath the earth is not something you're very familiar with.

You're not usually summoned alongside her, this is different.

The echoes of multiple screams ring in your ears as you crawl your way out of a fresh grave, growling through clenched teeth when you finally break the surface.

Your joints and bones pop as you twist and jerk to realign what's been broken. You swear you're going to ring the witch's neck that's summoned you.

You tilt your head and feel a crack in your neck, you grimace before you jerk your head and relief seeps into your muscles.

With a flex of your fingers you adjust your clothes before the colors of the leaves scattered amongst the ground catches your eye.

Just as the realization settles and you finally understand where you are, a hand that brushes against the length of your back is the only thing that seems to ground you. You lean into her touch with a slow forced exhale.

Rio is here, that is the only comfort you feel.

You absolutely hate the witches’ road.

When you finally glance up at the witches who were just screaming bloody murder, you notice her right away.

Her thick brown hair falling against her shoulders, the white button up shirt that complements her dress pants, the locket that’s always with her.

Agatha Harkness and this coven of four have summoned you and Rio to the road.

The rage that heats your blood is a sensation that you will never get used to, it burns like the sun and yet it's all you can feel as you glare daggers at her.

The only thing that stops you from lunging at her is Rio’s quick reaction. The hand that was resting on your back has encircled your waist, she tugs you back against her, resting her chin on your shoulder.

“Easy there tiger.” Her soft chuckle of amusement is not distraction enough from what you want to say.

“What the fuck are you doing Agatha?” Your words are harsh and yet you feel no sympathy when she flinches at your tone.

“Excuse me?” The witch in the pink dress places a hand over her heart like you personally offended her.

“You’re excused.” You pay her no mind, your eyes are only on Agatha. “Now answer the question.”

Agatha says nothing. Her eyes look from you to Rio and back like she can barely believe what she’s seeing. Like she didn’t intend for this to happen.

“Cat got your tongue?” Rio teases, her smile predatory, the hold on your waist a touch possessive.

“How did you—?” This time she points at the two of you.

“We were in the neighborhood.” Rio interrupts her with a casual response. There is no need to explain further, she will know the truth.

“But uhh,” The youngest member of the coven, a teenage boy, lifts his hand up like he’s waiting to voice his question. You frown at the notion, not quite understanding.

“Yes Teen?” The oldest of the group turns to look at the kid who answers once the attention turns to him.

“Why are there two of them?” He gestures between you and Rio, his confusion clear as he then turns to look at Agatha like she has all the answers.

You scoff at the thought, she knows nothing. Not when it comes to you and especially not when it comes to Rio. That was made very clear centuries ago.

Agatha glares at you as if this time you truly have offended her but all you do is glare right back.

The moment of eye contact drags on longer than you thought it would. The witch's pride is a strong thing and you know she hates backing down first but you are not in the mood to give in.

You refuse to give her what she wants.

When fingers dance along the thin fabric that covers your ribs you jerk involuntarily, turn to glare at Rio. She gives you an innocent smile but her eyes burn with something that silently tells you to calm down.

“Doesn't matter.” Agatha's anger is a harsh bite, hiding the vulnerability that comes with seeing the both of you. “We have a green witch. Now let's go.”

The whoosh of her coat is followed by a slow breath that relaxes your shoulders. You can not let your anger get the best of you while here. The road will only take it and twist it until it gets a chance to throw it in your face.

“Being summoned is so much fun isn't it? Just like old times.” Rio teases you, presses a soft kiss to your shoulder in a silent apology.

Before you can turn and properly question her about why you are here a voice calls your attention. “Uhh hello?”

You roll your eyes but turn to glance at the three witches that have lingered after Agatha stormed off.

“Hello.” You merely say in return. You owe these witches nothing more.

“So uh did we summon two green witches?” The witch with red in her hair gestures to the two of you. You feel Rio shake her head from where her face is still pressed into your shoulder, her chuckle is low enough that the others do not hear it.

You find her amusement endearing and annoying.

“To keep things simple, yes.”

The continued looks of confusion merely make you smirk at the unsuspecting women.

With one last brush of fingers over your ribs, one last ghost of a kiss that tickles the skin of your neck, Rio steps away. Her smile is bright, the twinkle in her dark eyes promise nothing but mischief and self entertainment.

“We're supposed to walk this thing right?” She steps around you and points toward the road. When she only gets a few shrugs of consensus she hums in response before leaving you behind with these confused witches.

You shake your head with a soft smile, of course she would find a way to ignore all your questions for even just a little bit longer.

“Let's get this over with.”

...

part 2

#agatha harkness x reader #rio vidal x reader #agatha harkness x rio vidal #agatha all along #agathario #agatha x rio x reader #agathario x reader #agatha harkness x fem!reader #rio vidal x fem!reader #cu:mine

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iamnotoriginalphil · 2 months ago

Text

Top of the Class (Professor!Agatha Harkness x f!Reader)

Synopsis: Agatha finally lets you sit in on one of her classes.

Words: 7.1k

Warnings: Student/teacher relationship, power imbalance, age gap (all 18+), praise kink, possessiveness, swearing, jealousy, mentions of cock warming, mentions of orgasm denial, mentions of overstimulation, mentions of spanking, edging, fingering (R receiving), choking, strap-on (R receiving), blowjob (R giving), degradation, hair pulling, begging, marking

Agatha’s hand was resting on the top of your head, nails scraping over your scalp as she petted you. Your back was pressed against the sofa, leaning against her leg, cheek resting on her thigh. You’d given up on the book in your lap, eyes closed, luxuriating in the feeling of her. You hummed, shuffling closer.

“Are you falling asleep, pet?”

Her voice was a soft hum, almost amused. You mumbled something, curling one arm around her calf, pressing more insistently against her. Her fingers gave one sharp tug on your hair, pain blooming over your scalp.

“Hey,” you protested.

But it wasn’t enough for you to draw away. Nothing could convince you to stop touching her when she was allowing it. Her warmth was seeping into your body. She wound a strand of your hair around her finger, tugging on it again, this time gentler.

“Are you going to sleep if I leave you here during my class?” she asked.

You buried your face against the muscle of her thigh, refusing to answer. She was not one to promote wasted time. Not unless it was to do something she wanted. Like laze around in bed all day, nothing but caresses and kisses and shared laughter.

“I can’t have you wasting the entire afternoon,” she warned.

“You’re the one who kept me up all night,” you grumbled.

“I didn’t hear you complaining at the time,” she said.

Of course you hadn’t. She’d had your arms tied above your head as she’d kept you on the brink long enough to drive you crazy. You were hardly going to tell her to stop when she was making you feel so good.

“C’mon, just one short nap,” you wheedled, “you won’t even be here to see.”

“Exactly. Don’t you think you should try and get as much work done when I’m not here to…” Her fingers tugged on your hair until you looked up at her, “play with you?”

“How am I meant to when I’m so tired?” you asked.

“If you want to spend the night in your dorm room, be my guest,” she said.

“No,” you said, so fast there was no way to play it off as anything but desperate.

“Then what do you suggest we do?” she asked, “since I clearly can’t trust you on your own.”

“You can trust me. I’m a good girl,” you whined.

“I know you try to be,” she said, fingertips brushing over the apple of your cheeks, “you try so hard. But sometimes you can’t help yourself.”

You whimpered, pressing closer. She lent forward until her breath ghosted over your skin. Her hair, usually wild and free, was pinned up and you could see the long column of her neck. It called to you, begging for your lips to attach to it, your tongue to taste her skin.

“Up here, pet,” she said.

Her finger tilted your chin up until your eyes met hers. The way she was looking at you had your stomach clenching, butterflies springing to life, fire sparking in your veins. It was full of such heat, scorching you, turning your head fuzzy.

“I’m not sure you’ll do as you’re told if left to your own devices,” she said.

“What do you suggest?” you asked, letting yourself gaze at her with undisguised desire.

“I think you’d better join me in class today,” she said.

“I should what?”

You eyes blinked up at her, stomach swooping. You’d never been given the opportunity to watch her teach. When taking one of her classes had felt like a pipe dream, you’d imagined the legend of a woman at a lectern. Now, knowing her, you knew it would ruin you to watch her.

“You need my watchful gaze on you, pet,” she said, “you might even learn something.”

“I promise you I won’t,” you said.

She chuckled, husky, from deep in her chest, making you tremble at her feet. Her knuckles brushed over your cheekbone surprisingly soft.

“And why’s that, pet?” she asked.

“Because all I’ll be able to think about is your mouth, and your fingers, and what you do to me,” you replied.

“And what do I do to you?” she asked.

“Ruin me.”

She seemed pleased with your breathless response, grinning down at you like you were her good little pet, like she was going to swallow you whole, like all your dreams were going to come true. You glowed for her, so pleased, shuffling closer. Maybe you weren’t going to be able to nap, but she was offering you the chance to show her how well you followed orders. You could be so good for her.

An hour later, you were following her across the campus, towards the small lecture theatre that attempted to contain her genius. The usual circle of space was given to the two of you, leaving you in your own bubble with her. It was how you preferred it, not letting the rest of the world in when you were with her. She was the world to you.

Inside the lecture theatre, a group of students sat scattered over the chairs. You watched, a rippling effect of straightening spines, eyes alighting on Agatha. Your Agatha. Of course she got such a response from her students. She was formidable.

Your eyes scanned over the crowd, watching the way they watched her. A few glances passed over your, a mixture of confusion and jealousy. Clearly your reputation had seeped into their collective consciousness, your special place in the ecosystem of Professor Harkness’s teaching career. Too many of them were watching her with an undisguised look of wanting. You recognised it, the same expression on your face when you saw her. The same expression she seemed to find amusing on your features.

“Go take a seat,” she murmured in your ear, her hand on the small of your back nudging you towards the stairs.

You nodded, mute, her breath on your skin raising goosebumps. Even in front of an audience, you couldn’t stop your reaction to her. She was something otherworldly, magical in how she made you feel. Like a magnet, you felt yourself drawn towards her no matter the distance.

You sunk into a chair at the back of the hall, where you could watch her and not be watched by any of her students. You wanted to gaze at her, drink in this moment, watch her in her element. You knew it would wreck you but you craved it, your destruction at her hand. Her eyes alighted on you, a fleeting glance, but you saw it from the tilt of her lips. She knew what she was about to do to you.

With your chin resting in your hand, you could gaze down at her. She waited another few minutes, the air turning electric with anticipation. She fiddled with the laptop, a powerpoint showing behind her. It was familiar, the picture one you’d poured over with her before, heads bent together over a book, close enough that whispers were all you needed. Her shoulder had been pressed against yours, long fingers tracing over the plate, spinning a story for you. When your gaze had inevitably crawled up her arm to her face, she’d already been looking back, blue eyes molten, taking in every single one of your micro expressions. She hadn’t let you kiss her until she was finished telling you the story, but you’d ached to since the first word fell from her lips.

The door crashed open, starting you. A windswept boy hurried in, calling out an apology to Agatha. Her lip curled and those blue eyes flashed dangerously. You watched each sure step as she sauntered over to him. Your stomach clenched and you thought you knew what was coming.

“What time do you call this?” she asked, voice quiet but ringing in the students’ silence. All eyes were watching.

“Sorry Professor Harkness,” the boy said, one hand pushing through his hair, ruffling it in what he must have thought was an attractive way, “traffic was crazy.”

“What did I tell you at the start of the semester?” she asked, head cocking to the side.

You could see him searching for the answer, the slump of his shoulders when he came up empty.

“I told you,” she said, bending down, both hands on the arms of the chair, pinning him under her gaze, “don’t bother showing up if you’re not serious about this class.”

“I am serious. I’m so serious. It was just-” he said.

“Traffic. So you said,” she said straightening up.

You watched him let out a relieved breath, relaxing back into the seat. Agatha turned on her heels and you held your breath.

“Get out,” she said.

The boy stiffened.

“But I am serious,” he argued, “you know I’m serious about this class. I need this to graduate.”

“You should have thought about that before you were late,” she said, not even looking at him to add insult to injury, “everyone was informed that I don’t accept late arrivals. Either show up early or not at all.”

He stood, face going a splotchy red.

“Bitch,” he spat.

She was slow to turn and you could tell from the set of her lips that she was angry. Hidden, secret, not obvious unless you’d spent a lot of time with her, you weren’t sure any of the students realised. The boy certainly didn’t. He had no idea how deep in shit he was.

“You’re going to have to try harder than that if you’re hoping to hurt my feelings,” she replied.

“It’s one minute. What’s it matter?” he demanded.

“The second you start allowing standards slip is the second you give up. I have no interest in teaching burn outs. Get out of my class,” she said.

He stared at her for a moment before he snatched up his bag. His stomping footsteps echoed as he left again, under the watchful gaze of the rest of the students. The door was loud as it slammed shut behind him.

Your thighs clenched together under your tiny table, breathless, mouth dry, heart thundering. Blue eyes found you and the warmth in your cheeks was for no one but her.

“Does anyone else have something they wish to add before I begin class?” she asked, voice carrying through the room.

Quiet negatives came from every corner of the room. You couldn’t look away as a smile spread over her face.

“Good,” she said, “then let me tell you a story.”

You settled back in your seat, the familiar story washing over you. You didn’t need to concentrate, knowing the story, having heard it in her husky voice, late at night, whispered into your skin over and over again, teasing you until you answered her questions correctly while her fingers drew you taut. The same story that played along with the picture of witches dancing in the moonlight hand in hand with demons.

No, you paid attention to her body, rather than her words. The way her hands moved through the air, illustrating something only she could see. Her voice rose and fell, lingering on certain words, her tongue caressing each syllable. She strode up and down, turning dramatically, weaving together a performance that had you throbbing with need.

You melted in your seat, watching her, lips parted, wondering if you could convince her to take you on her desk when you returned to her office. You were being so good. She had to reward you. She had to.

She paused, eyes dragging up to you. You watched as her tongue dragged along her lower lip, her pause deafening. Your own teeth sunk into your lower lip, imagining your own tongue following the same path. Her head titled. And then she was off again, continuing her lecture.

You inhaled sharply, looking away for a moment. You could pick out the students that were hanging on her every word, those that lent forward in their chairs, wanting to be closer to the sparkling woman. She might have had a reputation around campus, but those who managed to stick it out clearly found her as intriguing as you did.

You hated the thought of them thinking about her the way you did. Fantasising. Imagining. Working hard to please her the same way you did in the hopes they would be singled out. That she would look at them as if they were special. As if they would be the one to break through the hard exterior.

You were the only one who got to see beyond the performance to the woman underneath. And you were certainly the only one that got to benefit from those long fingers and flashing eyes and cruel smirk. No one else was hers.

No one else had a claim over her. Just you. Only you. Always you.

Your eyes slipped back to her, finding her leaning towards another one of her students. They were gazing up at her, dazzled, and your jaw clenched. But then her head tipped up and she caught your eye and you knew she was doing it on purpose. She wanted you watching. She wanted you paying attention. She wanted you jealous.

So you sat back in your chair, fingers combing through your hair, playing with the ends. The soft flannel of your shirt fell down towards your elbows, her perfume a permanent scent embedded in the material. She’d never asked for it back after you’d stolen it, the purple material a comfort when she wasn’t around.

You tipped your chin down, watching her intently. Her lips pulled up into a half smirk, leaning away from the student. She turned away from you, hands resting in her pockets, continuing on with the story. Letting your eyes sweep over her body, all you wanted to do was slip between her legs, taste her skin, hear her moan. You loved the noises she made when you were knuckles deep inside her.

The next time those eyes found you, you slipped your fingertip into your mouth, cheeks hollowing, maintaining eye contact with her. There was no stutter, no break in her words, no stumble, but you saw the way her fingers clenched.

If she was playing with you, you’d play right back.

You rested your fingers around your own throat, waiting for her to look back. You tipped your head back, lips parting, hooded eyes daring her to do something. Her shoulders tightened and her words came out a touch sharper than you were sure she’d intended them to be.

Then she gifted a smile to one of the girls in the front row. Not her usual smile. The one that she usually bestowed on you when you were particularly brilliant. You didn’t like the way your heart thudded. It reminded you that she would always hold so much power over you. With a single word she could break you.

Although, you might be able to break her too, if you ever lost your mind and wanted to hurt her.

When her gaze sought you out again, you knew you were looking at her like you wanted her to throw you down on the floor and have her way with you in front of all of her students. That you were imagining the pleasure she could give you. That you were thinking of the ways she could make you scream.

Her own eyes darkened, tongue wetting her lips again. Your lips parted on a soft sigh, fingertips trailing over your own skin in a mirror of the path hers had taken over your body that morning. You traced her name into your skin, slow enough for her to realise what you were doing. The expression on her face was nothing but raw need.

You thought you’d won the game she’d started. Your checkmate move, the one that always had her melting. Making it clear you were hers and hers alone, and that you were proud of the fact. That you luxuriated it. That you loved being claimed by her.

You spent the rest of the class watching her, gazing with what you were sure was a lovesick look, tracing her name over and over again into your skin as you considered all the ways you wanted to show her your appreciation for letting you join her class. And hopefully earn you another invitation.

You were beginning to grow drunk on her, addicted to her, salivating over her as she strode around the room, hands waving, fingers curling in a move you found very familiar. Your teeth sunk into your lower lip, holding in the moan that wanted to be heard.

She wrapped up the lecture, those eyes finding you again, lips curling up when she saw the state you were in. You shifted in your seat, squirming when her expression darkened. Lingering, you stayed in your seat as the students filtered out, a few staying behind to ask questions. She waved them away, her gaze caught on you.

You lent back, watching her approach from under hooded eyes. Hands in her pockets, she exuded powered, the kind that was heady and addictive and delicious. She walked through the row in front of you, leaning over the chair to draw closer to you.

“Did you learn something, pet?” she asked.

“Uh huh.” You nodded, leaning towards her.

“And what did you learn?” she asked.

“That I’m going to have to keep you chained up in your house,” you said, “you’re entirely too sexy when you teach and I’m not the only one who notices.”

“What on earth could you mean?” she asked, widening her eyes, affecting innocence.

“I think you know the exact effect you have on them,” you said, leaning in until you were only a hair’s breadth from her.

“What effect do I have on you?” she asked.

“How about you come here and find out,” you suggested.

Her hand grasped your chin, nails digging into your cheeks. Your mouth fell open, a soundless beg for her to come closer. When her eyes dipped down to your lips, you strained against her hold to get closer.

“You think you’re in control here? You think your little display will get you what you want? You think you have any say in how I teach my students?” Her lips brushed against yours, featherlight and ghost-like, “you have sorely miscalculated, pet.”

The flash of heat that went through you was embarrassing. You shouldn’t be so ready for her with so little work on her part. Leaning into her touch, you whimpered, just loud enough for her to hear you.

“You spent the entire class testing my patience,” she growled.

“I was being good for you,” you said.

“You were being a dirty whore. A spectacle. If anyone had seen you they would have known what a desperate little slut you are. Is that what you want? Do you want all my students to know how needy you are for my cock?” Her fingernails only dug in harder.

“Want them to know I’m the only one you touch,” you whimpered.

Her smirk wasn’t kind, full of malice while you could only beg for her.

“You’ve been nothing but a distraction, pet. You were meant to be good for me while I taught but you’re nothing but a naughty pet that needs to be punished.” The way her voice lowered into something husky, a rasp of a voice, had your thighs clenching again, “come on.”

She stood, releasing your face and you felt like you’d been kicked in the stomach. You hurried after her, rushing down the steps until her arm caught you around the waist, dragging you closer. Her kiss was searing, far too short by half, and you whimpered when she drew away.

Following her back across campus, you didn’t even notice the way people jumped out of her way. What you did notice was a few of the students still milling about, their eyes finding Agatha without pause, turning to her like she was the sun. Your stomach churned again.

You were the only one to lay claim over her. She was yours, not theirs, no matter what they seemed to want. She’d made it clear you were hers in every sense of the word.

Her hand curled around your wrist as she entered the history building, tight enough for you to feel secure with her. You liked when it became hard to know where you ended and she began. Having her wrapped so tightly around you was one of those things you loved but never told her. She’d tell you to stop being so sentimental.

Pushing her door open, she flung you inside, slamming the door behind her. Ignoring your pleading eyes, she took a seat behind her desk. Her legs spread wide, chin resting in her hand, watching you as you stood there, waiting for some kind of instructions. You felt breathless under that gaze, wanting to climb into her lap, to ride her thigh, to do anything you were allowed to ease the need that had been coursing through your veins since she’d begun her lecture.

“What am I going to do with you?” she asked, her eyes sweeping over your body, “even under careful watch you just can’t help yourself.”

“You’re just too-“

“Oh no,” she interrupted, “you’re not blaming your behaviour on me.”

Her fingers began to tap on the arm of her chair, considering you with an intensity that made you tremble.

“Were you hoping to make a fool of me in front of my students? You thought you had that power over me? That your childish antics would get a response from me?” she asked, displeasure colouring her words.

“You did react,” you said, knowing it was the wrong thing to say.

Her fingers gently tugged at the buttons of her shirt, opening it, exposing inch after inch of skin. Your mouth grew dry, eyes trained on it. There was no chance this was going the way you wanted and yet you couldn’t see the downside as you watched her.

Lace peeked out, inviting you in, tempting you to fall to your knees in front of her. She paused, dragging one finger up her chest, neck arching back before dropping down to look at you again.

“Come here, pet,” she commanded.

You did, unable to stop yourself even if you’d wanted to. Slipping between her and the desk, you reached a hand out to her, wanting to feel her beneath your touch. She slapped your hand away.

“Good girls get to touch,” she said, “and I see no good girls here.”

Quicker than you could catch, she had stood, hand on your body turning you, pressing your hips into the edge of her desk. You gasped. Her breath ghosted over the shell of your ear, hands pinning yours to the surface of the desk.

“Bad girls get punished,” she whispered.

Her tongue ran up the length of your neck. You shivered, hips pressing back into her, feeling the bulge in her trousers, the thick length you knew was hidden in there. After all, you’d seen her put it on that morning. She shoved you forward again, the edge painful as it dug in. You whined but she did nothing, keeping you pinned against her desk, unable to touch, to taste, to sink into her.

“How shall I punish you?” she hummed, lips brushing the vulnerable skin of your neck.

“Agatha,” you whined.

“I could refuse to give in to you, not touch you for a good long while, not let you cum until I feel you’ve learnt your lesson,” she said, still whisper soft

“Please,” you whimpered.

“I could have you warm my cock until the end of the day, and for every single time you distract me as I try to get my work done, I get to think of new punishments for you,” she suggested.

“Please,” you tried again.

“Or maybe I should have you cum over and over again until you can’t take it any more. Give you everything you want since you’re so needy,” she whispered, “and then when you think you can’t take any more, I just keep going since you wanted it so badly. You’ll take as much as I say you will and you’ll thank me for it. Every. Single. Orgasm.”

You were breathless, caught against her desk, pinned without the chance to move. Her lips kept ghosting over your skin, breath brushing until you shivered. Her teeth tugged on your earlobe, and the warmth was spreading, throbbing between your legs until you weren’t sure you could stay upright if she wasn’t keeping you there.

“I could spank you. Your skin would look so pretty with my handprints all over it,” she mused.

“I need you,” you whined.

“Unfortunately, pet, this isn’t about what you need, or what you want, or how good you think you are. This is about me teaching you a lesson,” she said, “I am your professor, after all.”

The shot of pleasure that went through you at the reminder, that you were one of her students, that this was wrong and most would frown upon it. They just didn’t understand. No one could understand the connection you had with your Agatha.

“How about we start with this and see what happens?”

She grasped both of your hands in one of hers, the other slipping past the waistband of your jeans. She chuckled, low in her throat when she felt how wet you were. You let out a shaky breath both unsure what she wanted from you, but wanting to give it to her.

Her finger was slow as it circled over your clit. Your breath was loud to your own ears. Soft lips attached themselves to your skin, sucking at your pulse point, tongue pressing down to feel your blood thrum. Her hips ground against your ass, pushing you more firmly against her fingers.

“Did you enjoy your little display in class?” she asked, whispered into your skin, “did you enjoy trying to take control?”

You couldn’t move as her fingers were slow on your bundle of nerves. You made a small noise, a whimper or a moan or something that was pathetic with need. Her teeth nipped at your skin, not gentle but not as harsh as she’d been with you before. It was like butterflies exploding in your stomach all over again.

“Such a display for me,” she murmured, “I think you’d like my fingers to make a pretty necklace for you.”

“Yes,” you hissed.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice the way you touched yourself. My name was a nice touch, pet. Because you are mine. My little pet to play with.”

You whimpered at her words.

“Do you like that? You like being mine? Mine to do with as I please?” Her lips brushed over her skin, “do you like being owned by me, pet?”

“Uh huh,” was all you managed to say as her fingers continued to play with your clit.

“You know what I enjoy most about owning you?” she asked, voice a soft murmur.

You let out a desperate noise in answer. You felt her smile against your skin.

“I have complete control over you,” she said.

Her fingers were rough, nothing but harsh strokes, drawing you closer to the precipice. You were trying to rock against them, to chase your high like the needy thing you knew you were. You were panting, pinned to the desk, not even feeling the pain of it anymore, so focused on the way she was making you feel.

Her fingers stilled. Your pained cry only seemed to amuse her, the chuckle a vibration through her chest.

“Agatha,” you pleaded.

“Complete.” Her thumb stroked over your clit again, “control.”

She held you there, fingers still resting against you, but not giving you the friction you needed. She ignored you, every noise you made, every wiggle of your hips, every pleading gasp of her name. It was torture, having her there and not being given what you wanted.

“I do own you, don’t I, kitten?” she asked, voice low, a note of something new in her voice.

“Yes,” you gasped, “I’m yours.”

She groaned, face buried in your neck. The way she kissed your skin, nipping, sucking, tongue tasting however much she could reach was surprisingly desperate. Even pinned to the desk, hands held in one strong grip, only able to sigh her name, you felt the way she pressed closer to you.

Her fingers sunk into you, so easily, your wetness making it so simple. You threw your head back, her name sweet honey on your tongue as she forced you back to the edge. So close, you could taste it. Fingers curling within you, stroking you, turning your head hazy. There was nothing you could do but clench your fingers and let her do as she wanted with your body.

You trembled, legs shaking, your moans so loud in the quiet office. You felt it in your lower stomach, the melting of fire through your veins, the beginning of muscles fluttering. Her hand stilled, slipping out of you.

“No,” you groaned.

“This is a punishment, pet,” she reminded you.

Her hand slipped out of your trousers, hand curling around your throat. Your slickness smeared over your skin and you couldn’t even care. You could happily become whatever mess she wanted you to be if she would only touch you again.

With her hold on you, she managed to get you to turn your head. Her lips descended on yours, soft despite the tight grip she had on you. When her tongue slipped between your lips, tasting you until you were melting, whimpering, pressing closer. She chuckled, teeth sinking into your lower lip, pulling on it. You were nothing but your base desires, needing her closer, needing her in every way. She possessed you in every single way it was possible to own another person.

“Have you learnt your lesson?” she mumbled against your lips.

“Yes,” you sighed.

“I’m not sure you have,” she said, drawing back.

“Agatha,” you whined.

“I do so love the way you say my name,” she said, eyes sweeping over you.

The fingers around your throat tightened. The noise you made was so pathetic, the auditory embodiment of need. Her eyes hard darkened, smouldering, molten as she looked at you.

“Do you want my cock, kitten?” she asked.

“Yes please,” you whimpered.

“So polite.” She let your hands go and gently stroked your hair, “keep your hands on the table and I might just let you have it.”

With one hand around your throat, the other dove back into your underwear, stroking through your dripping folds. Thumb grinding against your clit, the way you whined only seemed to drive her on. She was grinding against your ass and you were desperate for her. Your nails dug into the wood of the desk, doing everything in your power to keep them there as she did everything in her power to drive you mad with nothing but her fingers.

You were so sensitive under her touch, each stroke sending shockwaves through you. You trembled, every nerve ending on fire. Her hand only tightened around your throat until your airways cut off. Your fingers clenched, hips trying to rock against her, tears pricking at your eyes. You wanted her so much. You could taste your orgasm, could practically see it. It was right there, right within reaching distance. One more second and it would break over you.

Her hand pulled free again and the tear fell. She kissed it away from your cheek, tongue catching it. Releasing your throat, her body disappeared from behind you. You shivered in the chill, the frustration nothing but a familiar friend when it came to her. Her chair creaked.

“Turn around, pet,” she commanded.

You did, finding her leaning back in her chair, thighs spread, purple strap bobbing in the air. You swallowed, eyes trained on it.

“On your knees, pet.”

You fell immediately, the sharp pain not even registering. Crawling forward, you looked up at her, waiting for more orders. Her hands gently ran through your hair, blue eyes dazzling as she held your gaze.

“Go on,” she said, “suck my cock like the dirty whore I know you are.”

Your tongue ran up the length of it before you sucked the tip into your mouth. The throbbing between your legs was unbearable, but you knew how to follow instructions, and if you were good enough you’d be rewarded. Her fingers were tangled in your hair, guiding you further down.

You did your best to relax your throat, taking her as deeply as you could. Her hips pushed up, lips quirking up as you gagged around her cock. Slowly pulling up again, you suckled on the tip before sliding down again. Her fingers tightened in your hair, the sharp pull making you moan around the silicone.

“Look at you. So good as sucking cock,” she murmured, voice husky, “you belong on your knees, pet.”

Her praise had you pressing your thighs together again.

“So pretty and all mine,” she sighed.

You redoubled your efforts, wanting more of her praise. You wanted to be her good girl. You wanted her to know you would do anything for you. You wanted to give her everything she deserved.

“Could spend all day like this with you. I’ve imagining it, you know. Sitting at this desk, you under there on your knees, your mouth put to work. Just imagine, sitting here, your mouth on me, as I’m doing office hours with my students. What do you think they’d do if they knew? If they could see you being so good for me? If they knew your rightful place was on your knees for me?” Her fingers sharply pulled on your hair, “but then I don’t want to share this sight with anyone.”

You groaned around her cock. Something in her softened.

“No, this sight is all for me,” she said, and you whimpered at the reverence in her voice.

Your hands grasped her bare thighs, head bobbing, guided by her hands in your hair. The way she praised you was so delicious, emptying your head of anything but her. There was only this, and the way you felt on fire with her. The ache of your knees was so distant, focused as you were on her.

“Such a pretty pet,” she murmured, “c’mere.”

Her hands in your hair pulled you off her with an indecent noise. Climbing to your feet, you looked down at her, wanting to touch and to taste and to melt into her. Her hands were steady as they unbuttoned your jeans, pushing them down over your hips. You kicked them off. Her fingers ran along the waistband of your panties, your muscles jumping under her touch.

“I was going to keep you wanting as punishment,” she mused, “but you’ve been so good and I just can’t resist you.”

She lent forward, lips pressing to your lower stomach. Looking up your body, her eyes sparkled.

“You’re irresistible to me, kitten,” she whispered into your skin.

Her fingers hooked in the waistband of your underwear, dragging them slowly down your legs. You gasped when her tongue dove between your folds, tasting you, her soft hum going through you like electricity.

“You’re dripping for me,” she said.

Her tongue brushed over your clit, hips jumping towards her. She hummed again, a soft suckle against your bundle of nerves. Your hands landed on her shoulders, gripping tightly to keep your knees from collapsing beneath you.

“Please,” you begged, “Agatha.”

“Come here, pet.”

She positioned you on top of her, knees either side of her lap. When you sunk down onto her cock, you let out a low noise, relieved. Her hands grasped your hips tightly, keeping you there, holding you still. You tried to squirm, pushing your face into the crook of her neck, hiding your embarrassment from her.

“No, no, no, pet. I’m going to watch you unravel,” she said, lips brushing against your temple.

You stayed hidden, hips shifting, until she pinned you down. Held there, full up with her cock, you were a live wire, desperate and needy and losing your mind.

“If you want me to fuck you, you know what you have to do,” Agatha murmured, grip on you tightening.

Your shame wasn’t comparable to your need. You emerged from your hiding place, looking down at her, cheeks heating from the expression of raw desire on her face.

“That’s my good pet,” she said.

Her hands guided you up, just an inch, before pulling you down again. It wasn’t enough, but you couldn’t do anything but clutch at her shoulders. She was in complete control, you were nothing but hers to do with as she pleased. She watched you with greedy eyes, drinking in everything.

Your hips rocked against her, taking her strap as deep as it would go. You clenched around it, not able to help yourself. She’d brought you towards the edge too many times. All you could think about was giving in and doing anything you could to get your orgasm.

Bouncing on her cock, your fingers dug into her shoulder. The way she looked at you was pure liquid heat, eyes blown wide as you kept saying her name over and over again. Your head tipped back, exposing your throat to her. Her lips attached, as you knew they would, painting such pretty bruises on your skin.

Her fingers found your clit again, stroking you as you rode her as hard as she’d let you. You were a gasping mess atop her, chasing your orgasm with wild abandon. She wasn’t soft with you, taking everything she wanted, all you were willing to give, rough and demanding. She growled into your skin, teeth sinking in, fingers pressing bruises into your flesh. You were a wild animal, crying her name, clawing at her, wound so tight.

With one stroke, she broke the tension.

Your orgasm crashed into you. Your muscles stiffened, her name a strangled noise, holding on. Her fingers kept stroking you, drawing it out, making it last as long as she could as you milked her cock for all it was worth. The aftershocks kept you twitching as you fell forward, her arms catching you, gasping out your thanks to her.

She kissed your forehead, hair sticking to sweat coated skin. You pushed closer, wanting to feel her heart beat in time with yours. Her hands were running over your skin, along the line of your spine under your shirt, lips brushing over every inch of you she could reach.

You reached for her face, blindly pulling her into a kiss, soft and sated and relaxed. The way she kissed you back was nothing short of a claiming, kissing you deeper and deeper. With her still buried in you, all you could do was mewl, fingers pushing past the pins in her hair, clutching at her.

“Did you enjoy yourself, kitten?” she asked when she drew away.

“Yes,” you breathed, a whisper in the air shared between the two of you, faces still so close together.

“Have I told you how beautiful you are when you’re cumming on my cock?” she murmured, “how did I get so lucky to capture you?”

It was the most sentimental thing she’d ever said to you. You felt yourself melting. Your lips brushed hers, so gentle it made your heart ache.

“I should come to your classes more often,” you said.

Her chuckle sent your heart racing again.

“Clearly you haven’t learnt your lesson,” she said, “I knew I shouldn’t have indulged you.”

“Why did you?” you asked, nuzzling closer.

Her hands were still caressing your skin and you felt her breath ghost over your temple. Her kiss was soft, nose brushing over your skin, tongue darting out to taste you for a just a moment.

“Because I can’t say no to you, kitten. Not really,” she murmured and you wondered if you were actually meant to hear it.

She let you stay curled around her for longer than you’d expected, on her lap, arms curled around your body. Your eyelids fluttered shut. Every time she moved you felt her strap shift within you. The way the heat of pleasure settled under your skin was pleasant, not desperate yet, but comforting and soft and warm. Familiar. You felt safe and cared for, right there in her lap and in her arms.

“You should probably get dressed,” she said after some time had passed.

“Don’t wanna,” you replied, lips brushing her throat from your spot against her body.

“I’m all for you staying right here but I didn’t lock the door and if someone comes in they might have questions,” she said, “questions I’m happy to answer about bad girls needing discipline but you might not want everyone to know you can’t follow simple orders.”

“I can follow orders,” you protested.

“Then get dressed, pet” she said.

You whimpered when she slipped out of you, feeling empty without her cock inside you. She lent forward, snatching up your underwear before you could. She shoved them in the pocket of her trousers as she tugged them back into place, looking for all the world like she hadn’t just been inside you.

You dragged your jeans up your legs. She carefully buttoned them up for you, fingers brushing your skin. The look in her eye when she looked up at you was so full of something it took your breath away. You wished you could name it but all you knew was it made you feel like you’d been dunked in oil and set alight. It only got stronger as you buttoned up her shirt, hiding the lace from view again. Your fingers lingered in the dip between her her collarbones, such a vulnerable spot, so soft under your fingertips.

“Go on, pet. I know you have work to be getting on with,” she said, gently pushing your hand away.

“But I’m so tired,” you whined.

“Don’t be a brat,” she scolded but there was a twinkle in her eye, “I’m not sure you could handle any more punishment today.”

You held out just long enough to let her know you were thinking about it. You dropped onto the sofa, doing exactly what she’d told you. More work. Always more work on your thesis.

But you couldn’t wait for the next time she brought you to class with her.

#agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness imagine #agatha harkness #agatha all along

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hello-there · 9 days ago

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#tumblr communities #communities

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sasheemo · 2 months ago

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Long day, huh?

Pairing: Detective!Agatha (Agnes O'Connor) x Reader

Summary: Your girlfriend Agnes Agatha, lost to the Scarlet Witch’s spell, has no memory of you or the life you shared. But tonight, you have a daring plan to bring her back.

Tags: Smut, Established Relationship, Strap-ons (Rr), Car Sex

Word count: 6.9k

A/N: So, first Agatha smut! Hope it doesn't suck that bad - would love to hear your thoughts if you’re up for it 💜

MASTERLIST

Read on AO3

It’s torture, seeing her like this. Agatha, your Agatha, right there yet completely out of reach, trapped under the Scarlet Witch’s spell.

You’ve been together for centuries, standing side by side through battles and blood, through the kind of love that’s spanned lifetimes.

You were there when she first sensed something off in Westview, when she decided to investigate what was happening, and you offered to come along. But everything went south, and now she’s here, roaming around the streets of Westview every day as a ghost of herself, believing she’s someone else entirely. Every moment you see her as this rough, almost bitter stranger, this ‘Detective Agnes’, it drives a wedge through your heart. But tonight, desperation gives birth to a reckless idea: if she can’t remember who she is maybe you can make her remember.

It’a a Friday night, and the most popular bar in Westview is pretty packed, humming with a low murmur and the occasional clink of glass.

You step inside, searching, and your gaze falls on her almost immediately. She’s right there, Detective Agnes, a rougher, possibly even quirkier version of the woman you’ve loved for centuries, sitting alone at the bar, absently nursing her drink. In the dim light, she looks as alluring as ever, though that familiar playfulness you knew is buried under layers of frustration and some sort of hard-earned dominance. And yet, you have to admit, part of you doesn’t mind it. In fact, you find yourself… intrigued.

There’s something thrilling about this version of Agatha. Agnes is rough, unapologetically bossy, carrying that particular brand of perpetual irritation that somehow only makes her more magnetic. Not that your Agatha didn’t have these traits, but this… adaptation of her takes them to a whole new level.

You’ve always loved the way she embodied both her feminine and masculine sides so seamlessly, owning every part of herself with that perfect blend of charm, ambiguity, and raw sensuality that defies any simple definition. Agnes though, leans heavily into her masculine side, and you’re definitely not complaining. Not one bit.

You smooth down the short black dress hugging your figure, fingers adjusting the purple gemstone at your collarbone. With slow, intentional steps, you close the distance, sliding onto the stool beside her. The heavy air around her feels electric, an unspoken charge palpable even through her indifference. She’s flipping idly through a small notebook, likely filled with dead ends from whatever “case” has been haunting her lately.

You lean in, letting the bar’s low light and smoky scent curl around you both. “Long day, huh?”

She doesn’t look up right away. She lets out a sigh, flipping another page in her notebook before her gaze shifts in your direction, mildly annoyed. The moment her eyes meet yours, you feel a spark, realizing those mesmerizing blue eyes will always have the same effect on you, no matter what.

“Would’ve liked to have a quiet drink.” she mutters, lifting her glass as if to punctuate her point. “Not exactly in the mood for small talk.”

“Good thing I’m not here for small talk, then.” You smile, tipping your head slightly, and you see her interest flicker, even if her eyes narrow.

There’s a beat of silence, her gaze lingering a little longer than necessary. She radiates that annoyed, no-nonsense attitude, but there’s something in the way she holds herself tonight that makes you wonder if there isn’t some part of her that still recognizes you, that feels the pull between you. You watch her expression, the rough angles of her face, the way she leans back, sizing you up with all the caution of a predator who’s just discovered someone bold enough to trespass.

“I don’t think I know you.” she says finally, a challenge in her voice.

Your smile doesn’t falter and you lean in just a little closer, enough to catch a whiff of her. Agnes carries this scent of cold air and something darkly earthy, stark and distant. It’s a sharp contrast to Agatha’s usual rich, heady fragrance, the kind that clings to your clothes and fills the room long after she’s gone. But somehow, this raw, unfamiliar scent only adds to her allure, drawing you in deeper.

“Guess that depends on what you think you know.” your voice drops to a low, almost mocking purr, a faint smirk playing at the corner of your mouth. You hold her gaze, letting the challenge hang in the air between you, your eyes glinting with just enough mystery to keep her guessing.

She lets out a quiet, humorless laugh, but something in her eyes shifts, something curious, as if you’ve stirred something in her she can’t quite place. She looks at you a beat too long before shaking her head and turning back to her drink, as if trying to ignore that spark.

You watch her for a moment, her fingers curling around the glass, her body language guarded, closed off. But there’s that trace of interest, the smallest crack in her armor. She’s intrigued, even if she won’t admit it.

She might be Agnes right now, but you still know how to push her buttons “Looks like you could use a distraction, Detective. I’ve heard it’s been nothing but dead ends for you lately.” you murmur with a sly smile.

Her hand pauses on the glass. The annoyed look is back, but this time it’s different, that reluctant curiosity now obvious on her face. She sets her glass down with a thud, meeting your gaze head-on. “Careful, doll. I don’t do well with strangers thinking they know more than they should.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” You raise your hand, as if in surrender. “I just happen to know that sometimes the best way to clear a clouded mind is a little… fun.”

At that last word you can see her tense up, her shoulders straightening, gaze sharpening. A hint of a smirk crosses her face, but she quickly tamps it down. Agnes may be all business, but there’s a flicker of something in her eyes that’s raw, hungry.

“Dance with me.” you say softly, your fingers reaching out to brush the cool glass of her drink. “Who knows, might be exactly what need…”

She lets out a soft snort, like she’s about to dismiss you, but then she pushes back from the bar. Standing, she adjusts her flannel shirt, slipping the small notebook into the inner pocket with a quick, practiced motion as her dark eyes stay trained on you with an intensity that makes the air thicken. She’s a predator through and through, and for a moment, you feel the weight of her gaze like a physical thing, binding you in place.

She holds out a hand, and you take it, feeling her strong fingers and the roughness of her skin against your own. She pulls you toward a crowded corner of the bar where people are already moving to the low, steady beat thrumming through the room. Dim lights cast a warm, hazy glow, bodies swaying close around you, amplifying the charged atmosphere.

Agnes holds you with a firmness that’s almost possessive, both hands at your waist. Her gaze locks onto yours, and in this moment, she’s both a stranger and achingly recognizable, the rough edge of Agnes mingling with the soul of Agatha beneath. Every inch of her exudes assertiveness, her energy powerful and magnetic as her hands rest on your body with unbreakable certainty.

The dance starts slow, a sway more than anything else, but as the tension grows, she pulls you a little closer. Her gaze flickers down to the necklace at your collarbone, the deep violet stone a stark contrast against your skin. You catch the faintest twitch in her expression, her eyes darkening as she lifts her gaze to meet yours again. There’s a hunger there, a dangerous, simmering intensity that speaks of possession and intrigue.

“You’ve got a strange way of introducing yourself.” she murmurs, her voice low, carrying an edge of danger. “Most people don’t… walk up to me like this.”

You lean in, your voice a whisper against her ear “I’m not ‘most people’, Detective.”. You let that last word linger, savoring the irony of it, a faint smile tugging at the corners of your mouth as you think of the illusion she’s wrapped up in.

She chuckles, a rough sound that vibrates through you, and her hold on your waist tightens, fingers pressing into your skin through the thin fabric. “Maybe you’re just a little too bold for your own good.”

You don’t bother to reply, feeling the intensity between you coil tighter as her hand slips around to the small of your back, pulling you firmly against her. Her gaze holds yours, dark and fierce, that rough, predatory edge simmering into something more primal. The dance transforms, becoming less about the music and entirely about the electrifying connection between you, every look and touch stoking the fire higher.

You press closer, letting your hips grind against hers in slow, deliberate circles, matching the pulsing rhythm that fills the room. Each movement is calculated, provocative, testing the limits of her restraint. You can feel the tension radiate through her hands as they grip your waist, and her breath seems to hitch every time your body sways against hers.

In the dim light, shadows fall across her face, but her eyes glint with a deepening hunger. You reach up, one arm slipping around her neck as your fingers trace along her skin before threading into her hair. The contact is intimate, possessive, and she leans into it, visibly captivated by the press of your body and the brush of your fingers. With a mischievous smile, you let your other hand glide up her face, fingertips trailing along the line of her jaw as you bite your lip, savoring the spark of control you have over her.

In an instant, something snaps. Agnes moves with a swift, unrestrained urgency, her hands locking onto your hips as she spins you around, pulling your back against her with a possessive force that steals your breath. Her body presses flush against yours, fitting perfectly, her grip on you strong and unyielding.

The rhythm of the music seems to fade as she matches your movements from behind, grinding into you in time with your slow, rolling pace. The friction between you is scorching, each press of her hips intensifying the heat building between you. Her hands slide along your waist, her fingers digging in as if anchoring herself to you, claiming every inch of space between you.

With Agnes pressed firmly against your back, one of your hands finds its way behind her neck once again, fingers weaving into her hair as your bodies move together, grinding in sync to the steady beat. The desire simmering between you is overwhelming, each movement intensifying the tension coiling in your core.

But as her grip stays firm on your hips, you become aware of something else, something hard pressing insistently against you. The firm, unmistakable pressure against your ass makes your breath catch in your throat, the perfect trigger for a molten rush to spread through your veins.

You glance over your shoulder with a smirk, voice low and teasing. “Is that what I think it is, Detective?”

The smug grin spread across her face makes it clear she was waiting for your reaction, every inch of her expression dripping with satisfaction. The look only fueling the heat pooling between your thighs. Her fingers travel up your sides, leaving a trail of sparks across your skin. She grazes just beneath your breasts, her touch light but deliberate, the fabric of your dress doing little to dull the fire she ignites.

“Behave.” she whispers, her lips brushing the shell of your ear. There’s an edge to her voice, rough and commanding. “And maybe I’ll reward you.” she continues, a low purr full of promise.

But you’re here on a mission, not to behave. Definitely not to behave.

Letting the music and her warmth embolden you, you reach back with your free hand, fingers slipping between your bodies to trace a slow, tantalizing path downward. She doesn’t stop you, if anything, she presses in closer, her breath hot against your neck.

Your movements halt for a split second as your fingertips brush the cool metal of her belt buckle, a shiver running through you at the sensation. Biting your lip, you continue your descent, fingers tracing slowly along the rigid line of her zipper, feeling the unyielding heat straining against it. When your palm finally presses against her, you can feel the hard, thick bulge beneath the fabric, and the sensation sends a surge of desire straight to your core. A low, breathless moan threatens to escape, and you barely hold it back, relishing the sensation as the need builds, leaving you aching for more.

Your fingers trail along her length teasingly, taking your time, and you feel her body tense behind you, hear the soft, low growl in her throat. She drops her forehead to your shoulder, her breath rough as you continue your movements.

You tilt your head back, allowing her see the satisfaction in your eyes, a look you know will get to her. Her breath catches as your fingers continue to tease her mercilessly. “Mmm” you hum with deliberate appreciation. “I knew you’d be… impressive.” you murmur, voice low and dripping with praise.

The effect is immediate, and exactly what you’d hoped for. Her nails dig into your waist, her restraint slipping further as a husky sigh escapes her. She presses into you and raises her head to meet your gaze, the challenge in her eyes flaring, daring you to push her further.

You’ve always loved how, deep down, Agatha is so desperate for praise. She always had that little spark of pride that flares with each admiring touch, each appreciative word. But with Agnes, that need seems to linger closer to the surface, raw and unapologetic. In this form, she practically soaks up every word, every look of admiration you give her, like she’s reveling in the attention.

She’s holding herself back, barely, and you can feel the restraint beginning to crack, the thrill of it washing over you as she takes one grounding breath. “Keep that up…” she mutters, her tone both a warning and an invitation, “and you’ll see just how impressive I can be.”

With her words still in the air, she thrusts her hips forward, grinding firmly against your hand so you feel the full, hard length of her strap straining through the fabric of her pants. Simultaneously, one of her hands moves to your throat, fingers curling possessively around it in a strong, yet gentle, grip. Instinctively, you arch into her touch, pressing closer, wanting to feel every inch of her as she is pushing against you. The sensation sends a jolt of pleasure through you, and you can’t hold back the moan that slips from your lips.

Her body freezes at the sound, and for a heartbeat, everything is still. Then, without a word, she grabs your hand, her grip firm and unyielding as she pulls you toward the exit. You can barely keep up with her long strides as she navigates through the bar, her silence and focus only heightening the anticipation that’s been building between you. The moment you step outside, the cool night air hits you, sharp and bracing, a stark contrast to the heat coursing through your veins.

Agnes doesn’t pause as she leads you across the dimly lit parking lot, her hold on your wrist commanding, purposeful. But just as you near the shadowy corner where her car is parked, she suddenly turns, and with a fierce intensity, she presses you against the rough brick wall of the bar. The shock of the cold surface behind you only fuels the fire inside, and before you can catch your breath, her mouth is on yours.

The kiss is raw, unrestrained, her lips claiming yours with an urgency that’s nothing short of devastating. Her tongue parts your lips, exploring with a fierce hunger that’s both intoxicating and overwhelming, each movement igniting something hotter, deeper. She moves against you with a possessive need, her hand tangling in your hair as she tilts your head back, deepening the kiss even further.

“Is this what you wanted, huh?” she mutters against your lips, voice thick and dripping with need. Her other hand moves down to grab your ass, pulling you against her, her grip rough and unapologetic. You can’t hold back the gasp that escapes you, the thrill of it leaving you breathless.

Your hands find their way to her waist, fingers digging into the fabric of her shirt as you pull her closer, every inch of her body pressed firmly against yours. She tastes like whiskey and something darker, something that only fuels your desire, making you want more, need more.

“Teasing me like that all night… you knew exactly what you were doing.” her voice is almost a growl against your lips, her frustration and need laid bare, her words punctuated with another possessive press of her hips.

Your heart races, and you find yourself grinning through the haze of desire. “Maybe I did.” you whisper, a daring edge to your tone.

Her smirk deepens as she leans in, mouth brushing against your ear. “Good.” she breathes “Because now… you’re mine.”

The intensity of her words leaves you dizzy, every nerve lit up, aching, ready for more. She slides a leg between yours, pressing firmly against you in a way that makes your instantly whimper. The sudden pressure tugging at your last restraints, making it impossible to hold back. You pull her into a fierce, consuming kiss, your mouths crashing together, hot and unrestrained, her taste filling all of your senses.

With a deliberate move, you catch her bottom lip between your teeth, biting down just hard enough to pull a throaty moan from her. The sound makes something inside you snap, a fire igniting that feels like it’s burning you from the inside out. You let your tongue glide over the spot you just bit, slow and teasing, savoring the slight tremor that runs through her in response.

Your eyes meet hers, hooded and dark with lust, each breath mingling as you hold her gaze, refusing to look away. “I want you to ruin me.” your voice is barely a whisper against her lips, but every word is thick with hunger. You let the desire in your eyes say the rest, the intensity of your gaze leaves no room for doubt, a challenge and surrender all at once.

You watch the way her pupils dilate, her eyes flashing with something feral and ravenous. Without another word, she grabs your hand again, leading you the last few steps to her car, parked in the shadowed corner with only a few other cars nearby.

As you near the car, you instinctively move toward the passenger side, expecting her to get in and drive you to her place at speed light. But Agnes doesn’t head for the driver’s side. Instead, she stops just behind you, her presence looming as you reach for the passenger’s door handle.

“Other door, doll.” she murmurs, her voice dripping with intent. A shiver runs down your spine as the implication sinks in. You glance over your shoulder, finding her gaze steady, intense, and unmistakably clear. She’s not planning on taking you anywhere.

You release the handle, heart racing as you step to the rear door, her gaze burning into you with every move. Inside of the car, the familiar scent of leather mixed with something distinctly “her” fills the small, darkened space. Agnes follows, sliding in close beside you, shutting the door to enclose you both in a cocoon of shadows and anticipation.

The air is charged with an unspoken understanding as her hand finds your bare thigh, fingers pressing possessively as she leans close, breath warm against your cheek. There’s a pause, enough to let you savor what’s about to unfold, before she brings her mouth to yours, claiming you with the raw hunger that’s been simmering all night.

Her hand starts to move in a slow, tantalizing journey upward, fingers tracing your skin and slipping beneath the hem of your dress, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. A soft moan escapes you, muffled against her mouth as her touch becomes bolder.

As her fingers graze your inner thigh, both firm and unbearably light, a whimper slips out of your lips. She pulls back just enough, gaze momentarily dropping to where her hand is inching closer to where you need her most, her breathing heavy as she watches you unravel beneath her touch.

Each slow, deliberate movement seems meant to drive you wild, her smirk making it clear she’s relishing each shaky breath you take. Without breaking eye contact, her hand ventures further, until her fingertips reach your clothed core, brushing against the patch of wetness that is seeping through the fabric. Her touch sends a surge of pleasure through you, hips arching as you crave more. She lets out a low, pleased hum, leaning close as her mouth grazes your ear.

“You’ve been waiting for this all night, haven’t you?” she whispers, her voice dripping with mockery and satisfaction, every word laced with a condescending edge that leaves you trembling. One of your hands grips the leather seat beneath you, nails digging in as you brace yourself, as the other slips between your legs, pushing aside your panties in a bold, undeniable signal. Agnes’s gaze flickers with mischief, her lips curving in a smirk at your willingness, at the silent plea in your eyes.

“Look at you…” she murmurs in that low, almost scolding tone that makes you clench around nothing. “Such a needy pet.” Her fingers finally dip down to graze your drenched folds, now exposed to her touch. Her fingers glide up and down with ease, a deliberate slowness that leaves you panting, every movement igniting raw need within you.

“Mm, so wet for me.” she whispers to herself, pressing her fingers a little firmer, coaxing a soft moan from you. Your grip tightens on the seat as your breathing grows ragged, her touch leaving you helplessly craving more, every nerve under her control.

Her movements are teasingly, atrociously, slow. An impatient thrill rushes through you, impossible to ignore, and without a second thought you straddle her lap in one swift motion. As you settle onto her, your dress rides up around your hips, baring more skin as your legs fall on either side of hers, bracketing her firmly on the back seat. Agnes’s eyes widen in surprise, excitement unmistakable as her hands find your exposed thighs, fingers pressing into your skin as you begin to grind against her.

The angle presses her strap perfectly against your core, each movement sending a pulse of pleasure as you rock in her lap, the coil in your lower abdomen growing tighter and tighter with every roll of your hips. A low growl escapes her as she watches you take what you need, movements relentless and hungry.

Lost in the moment, you wrap your arms around her neck, pulling her into a kiss that’s messy, unrestrained, moans spilling shamelessly between your mouths. “Fuck… I need you.” you murmur, hips rolling harder in her lap, grinding with a desperate rhythm that has your heartbeat racing. You feel her cock press on your clit through her pants, and for a fleeting moment, you wonder if you might come just from this.

But Agnes has other plans.

Her hands slip from your waist, leaving you whining at the loss of contact as her fingers find the buckle of her belt. She undoes it with slow precision, followed by the button and zipper of her pants, her gaze locked with yours for the whole time, challenge flickering in her eyes as she smirks.

Her hand slips between your legs once more, sliding over your sensitive core, fingers teasing your hole as if to confirm just how ready you are for her. You bite your lip, completely unable to contain yourself. “Please.” you beg, voice low and trembling.

The smirk that crosses her face is dark, satisfied, as though she’s savoring every word, reveling in how desperate you are to have her inside of you. Desperation starts to kick in as your hand moves over hers, guiding her fingers between your folds, desperate for the friction she’s barely giving you. You grind against her hand, each movement sending sparks through your body as you cling to the delicious, aching need building inside you. Your breathing is ragged, and you can barely focus, until you catch sight of her other hand moving down to her waist.

With a fluid motion, Agnes reaches into her boxers, freeing her strap. The anticipation and the sheer intensity of the moment making your breath catch in your throat. As she draws it out, you take in every inch, noticing how it’s bigger than what Agatha would normally choose, yet not the biggest she’s ever ruined you with. But there’s something about the way she holds it, about the way it fills her hand, that has a rush of arousal pooling low in your stomach.

You swallow hard, desire flaring in your eyes as you let yourself imagine how it will feel inside of you, stretching you, abusing your needy hole. Agnes doesn’t miss your reaction, her smirk deepens, that predatory, knowing look in her eyes as she catches you staring. She shifts her hips, letting the strap press against your inner thigh, teasing you with what’s coming.

Her voice drops to a murmur, gravelly and low. “Think that pretty pussy of yours is ready to take it, doll?” she asks, tone both a tease and a command, daring you to say otherwise.

Without hesitation, you meet her gaze, biting your lip, eyes blazing with need. “Yes.” you whisper, breathless. “Fuck yes.”

A shiver runs through you as Agnes aligns herself, the tip of her cock pressing teasingly at your entrance, one of her hand resting firmly on your hip, grounding you. Slowly and deliberately, she begins to sink into you, stretching you inch by inch. A soft, breathy moan escapes you as the fullness sets in. Your fingers dig into her shoulders, clinging to her, every nerve ending lighting up with raw pleasure.

Agnes watches every reaction with a possessive gaze, clearly enjoying the way your body responds to her. She pauses, just for a second, letting you adjust. “Just like that. Mm, I wish I could feel that tight cunt wrapping around me. I bet it would feel so good.” she murmurs, voice thick with satisfaction.

And then, with an agonizing slowness, she presses further, filling you completely until there’s nowhere left to go and she’s buried deep inside. The feeling of fullness settles within you, every inch of her stretching you in a way that leaves you teetering on the edge of overwhelming pleasure. Your gaze drops instinctively to where your bodies connect, where her strap disappears into you, a sight that sends a deep, pulsing ache through your core.

But as you look down, your eyes catch on something else. The purple gemstone of your necklace, nestled against your skin, begins to glow, casting a soft, pulsing light in sync with the pounding rhythm of your heart. A slow smirk spreads across your lips, it’s almost time.

You teasingly wiggle your hips, signaling that you’re ready, craving the friction only she can provide. Agnes tightens her grip on your hips, nails digging into your skin. She meets your challenge, leaning forward just enough to capture your mouth in a deep, consuming kiss. In the heated clash of tongues and teeth, her hips begin to move, pulling back slowly before thrusting forward, filling you again.

Her pace is torturously unhurried, letting you feel every second, watching the way your face reflects each wave of pleasure. After a few measured thrusts, her hands slide down to grip your ass, fingers kneading your skin before delivering a sharp, satisfying spank that sends a shock of pleasure through you. A gasp slips from your lips but, before you know it, her hips have stilled and she’s watching you with a provocative glint in her eyes.

It dawns on you that she wants you to move, to put on a show just for her. You hesitate, breath catching, and her voice drops to a low, rough murmur as she smirks. “Come on doll, you gotta work for it. Let’s see how you bounce for me.”

Her words ignite a fresh wave of arousal and, taking a steadying breath, you start rolling your hips. You move slowly at first, savoring the stretch but it doesn’t take long before you start lifting and sinking your full weight down onto her, each movement drawing a low hum of approval from her lips.

Lost in the rhythm, you quicken your pace, each bounce bringing you down harder, making the base of the strap pressing firmly against her clit. Her hands guide you, watching you arch and take her deeper and deeper, her gaze full of admiration and raw desire.

The car fills with the wet, needy sounds of your arousal as she fills you completely. Your breaths turn to soft, broken moans, mingling with curses spilling from your lips. “F-fuck… Aggie…” you stammer, the familiar nickname slipping out before you can catch it. “Feels so… so good.” you murmur, half-lost in the haze, voice thick with need as you ride her harder, body pressing into her with abandon.

Agnes’s eyes flash, and for a split second, you wonder if she’s even noticed the slip or if she’s choosing to ignore it, letting it pass without breaking the intensity of the moment. Her grip tightens, voice dropping to a rough whisper that sends a shiver down your spine “Good girl… you’re taking me so well.” One of her hand slides up your back, nails scratching your skin and leaving red marks under your dress. “This is exactly what you were made for, isn’t it?”

Her words ignite something deep inside of you, urging you on as pleasure builds with each movement, your head tipping forward as you release a shameless moan. Your steady, rhythmic bouncing sends waves of pleasure radiating through you, each one stronger than the last, the friction inside you maddeningly perfect. You can feel your own wetness slickening each movement and dripping down your thighs, the glide of her strap effortless as she pushes deeper, unrelenting.

Agnes is utterly captivated, her gaze darting between the raw expressions of pleasure on your face and the sight of her strap disappearing into you. She drinks in every movement, every tremble, barely able to restrain herself.

As if sensing her focus, you open your eyes. You catch her gaze and stare right into her as you bite your lip, slowly and purposefully sinking down onto her cock, daring her. And that’s all she needs.

One hand wraps firmly around your throat, grip strong and commanding, while the other moves to your hip, pressing you down on her lap. For a moment, everything is suspended, you’re pinned under her gaze as the intensity of both the pressure at your throat and the deep ache within makes you shudder, caught between pleasure and anticipation.

Then, without warning, her hips snap up, driving into you with a devastating shove that forces every ounce of breath out of your lungs. She thrusts hard and deep, filling you completely, each movement unrelenting and precise, striking that spot that has you gasping and moaning uncontrollably.

Your hands clutch at her shoulders, desperate for some anchor as she pound into you without mercy, driving you relentlessly toward the edge. Your eyes flutter shut in overwhelming pleasure, but her grip tightens on your throat, pulling you back. “Eyes on me, pet.” she growls, voice low and commanding. “You begged me to ruin you. Now, look at me while I give you exactly what you asked for.”.

You force your eyes open, and the instant they lock onto hers, her pace quickens. The smirk on her face is a mix of dominance and admiration as she keeps pushing you further with every movement. The feeling is all-consuming and, as she continues, you feel yourself surrender completely, helpless under her control, barely holding on as pleasure engulfs you.

Her hips are snapping forward with an intensity bordering on devastating, her feet planted firmly on the car floor, adding force to each thrust. Her hand finds its way between your legs once more, fingers moving in practiced circles over your sensitive clit, coaxing you to the brink.

The purple stone around your neck pulses brighter as your orgasm builds, filling the car with an otherworldly glow that syncs with the rhythm of Agnes’s relentless movements.

“Mmm, I missed this… I missed you.” the confession slips out you in a raw whisper. For a second, Agnes’ expression falters, something flickering in her eyes that seems to recognize the truth. Before she can react, the light from the stone intensifies, flooding the space between you with a bright, shimmering glow. Her gaze drops to the gemstone blazing against your skin, entranced as though the light itself is unraveling something within her.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, you seize the moment and murmur the spell.

Ancient Latin words leave your lips like a quiet chant, each syllable carrying the force of longing and magic, woven with the raw passion building between you. The words wrap around you both, charging the moment, and as the final word slips from your mouth, she gasps like someone just knocked all the air out of her lungs. Agnes’s eyes meet yours, and in that instant, you know the veil has been lifted.

Agnes is gone and Agatha, your Agatha, is back. The full force of who she is, and who you are to her, rushes back all at once. For a moment, Agatha simply stares at you, the love of her life who broke her from that maddening spell… on her lap, strap buried deep inside you. The sight renders her speechless, her expression a mix of wonder and fierce devotion as she processes what’s happened.

Finally, her voice returns, smug and rough yet laden with emotion. “So, this is your idea of a rescue mission? Can’t say I mind, sweetheart.” She leans in, breath ghosting over your lips as her fingers trace your cheek, gaze softening though hunger remains.

You suppress a moan as her hips shift involuntarily, pushing deeper, and she gasps, realizing the full impact of the spell being lifted. She can feel you now, all of you. Every slick, heated movement as she fills you, every pulse of pleasure passing through you both in sync. The raw feeling of you, tight and warm, clenching around her cock, sends sudden jolts of pleasure through her. The boundary between you dissolved completely.

“Fuck… I can feel you again.” she murmurs, voice thick with awe and desire. Her voice drops, thick with satisfaction and yearning. “I’ve waited too long for this, and now… now you’re all mine again.”

Her breath catches, and her hands tighten on your hips, guiding you as she thrusts up with renewed purpose, as if proving to herself that this moment is real, savoring every second of this reconnection. Her eyes glint with pleasure as her nails dig into your skin, pulling you down harder with each thrust, her control slipping as she begins to feel herself approaching her own edge.

A ragged growl escapes her as she whispers against your ear, “You’re still so damn tight, sweetheart. Do you know what you’re doing to me?” Her breath shudders, and a smile plays on her lips as she admits, “I’m already close too… After all this time, I don’t think I can hold back.”

The rhythm between you intensifies as her hands roam over your body, holding you close as she loses herself in the feeling of being truly connected again. You’re nothing short of a moaning mess as her voice guides you closer to the edge with her, whispered praise and promises mingling with the tension building in both of you, pushing you both to the brink.

Agatha is fucking you at an unforgiving rhythm, the intensity blurring everything else. Her gaze never leaves you, watching you come undone as you both reach the edge, every sensation building to a breathtaking crescendo.

Soon, her rhythm turns erratic, her restraint fully unraveled. Her eyes bore into yours, dark and fierce, filled with desire and something deeper—a yearning that transcends this moment alone.

“Mm fuck baby… yes, just like that…” she murmurs, breathless, almost reverent.

Your thighs start to shake, each movement pushing you closer, and you can barely form words as the pleasure tightens, an unbearable ache. “Ah fuck Agatha… d-don’t stop.” you gasp, voice trembling. “Fuck fuck fuck…” you stammer with each of her relentless thrusts until your voice breaks, overcome by waves of sensation crashing through you.

The car is filled by the sound of your low, breathy moans, mixing with Agatha’s rough, primal groans, all blending together as her hands slide up your back, possessive, grounding, bracing you for what’s to come.

You’re so close, and you know she is right there with you, her body tensing as she growls, “Come with me, now.” Her voice thick, dripping with desire, her words pushing you over the edge.

Your body arches instinctively as you shudder, every nerve aflame as waves of pleasure wash over you. Your head tips back, unable to hold back the cries escaping your lips. Your thighs twitch uncontrollably, your hips moving wildly on Agatha’s lap as your walls clench around her cock, releasing all that built-up tension in one of the most powerful orgasms you’ve ever experienced.

Agatha’s hips snap up one last time, her breath catching as she reaches her own release, her hands pressing you close as she gasps. “Mine… all mine…” her words, raw and filled with emotion, resonate through you, pulling you even deeper into the moment.

Your bodies tremble together, chests heaving, hearts racing as you slowly come down from your high. She holds you there, her hand sliding up to cradle your face, her eyes softer but still burning as she meets your gaze. For a long moment, neither of you speaks, savoring the afterglow, feeling completely and utterly entwined.

Slowly, she leans in, capturing your lips in a deep, lingering kiss, one that holds all the love and longing she’s felt, buried beneath the spell, and everything you’ve both been waiting to express. Her mouth moves over yours with fervor, a silent promise in every brush of her lips.

A tear rolls down your cheek as emotions overwhelm you, but Agatha notices, her thumb gently wiping it away as she smiles against your lips. Her expression is soft and filled with gratitude as she holds you close, her hands tracing over your skin as if trying to commit every inch of you to her memory.

“Thank you, my love.” she whispers, voice thick with feelings. Her hand cradles the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair as she finally, reluctantly, begins to pull out. The sudden emptiness leaves you gasping softly, a shiver running through you at the loss, but before you can fully react you’re wrapping your arms around her, holding her close, grounding yourself in her warmth and presence.

Agatha’s hand slides down your back, comforting, reassuring. She presses a soft kiss to your temple, murmuring “It’s okay. I’m here now.” She pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, her features gentle yet fiercely protective. “Let’s go home.” she says, her tone pure tenderness “I won’t ever let anything take me away from you again, I promise.”.

She holds you close for one last intimate moment, while her words linger, solid and true. With a soft smile, she shifts and tucks away her strap before buttoning up her pants and fastening her belt, her eyes never leaving yours, filled with affection and satisfaction.

Once she’s ready she turns toward you, her hands moving to adjust your dress, her touch both careful and intimate as she smooths the fabric sliding it back into place around your waist and hips. Her hands linger, brushing along your sides in a way that makes your heart flutter.

Agatha opens the car door, stepping out first, leaning back to help you out of the car. She guides you with a steady hand as she opens the passenger door and, once you’re settled in the seat, she closes the door gently, making her way around the car and slipping into the driver’s seat beside you.

Agatha reaches over, her hand resting on your thigh as she leans in, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. With a final squeeze of your thigh, she starts the car, guiding you both into the night. In the quiet space between you, there’s a shared understanding that this is the beginning of a new chapter, together, with nothing left to keep you apart.

#agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness x you #agatha harkness x fem!reader #agatha x reader #agatha x you #agatha x y/n #agatha smut #agatha coven of chaos #aaa #agatha harkness #agatha all along #detective agatha #agnes o'connor #aaa fanfic #agatha all along fanfic

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vidals-harkness · 1 month ago

Text

jealousy, jealousy (agatha harkness, rio vidal)

summary: pulling a stunt on your partners for their attention goes terribly wrong.

fic type: smut

pairings: agatha harkness x fem!reader, rio vidal x fem!reader

warnings: smut, jealousy, alight age gap, use of pet names (r is called bunny), mommy kink, daddy kink, oral sex (agatha and rio receiving), fingering, enchanted strap-on use, spanking (r receiving), degradation, mean!rio, mean!agatha, rough sex, choking (r receiving), orgasm denial, face sitting (agatha receiving).

word count: 2.1k

note: this is my first time writing smut, i apologise if it sucks, so please don’t judge me :<

This party was beyond boring. All you saw were people you barely recognised, smelt liquor you definitely weren’t allowed to drink, and saw your partners talking to everyone except you.

So, natural as it was, you wanted their attention all on you. What could you say? They had you craving more of them every time.

So, your eyes landed on the young Miss Wu-Gulliver, a sweet young woman who you quite liked being around.

You sat beside her, smiling angelically. “Hiya, sweetheart,” you winked, making her blush.

“Hey,” she nodded. “Um…s-sup,”

Your eyes caught Rio’s from across the room, and she raised a brow at you, earning a simple, enigmatic wink in return.

“You know you look damn pretty tonight,” you whispered, running a hand up Alice’s arm, making her breath hitch.

At the other end of the room, Agatha watched you and leaned closer to Rio, muttering through gritted teeth, “Looks like bunny’s putting up a bit of a show,”

Rio chuckled darkly, her eyes fixed on you as you began to dance your fingers over Alice’s thigh.

“Let her think she’s won, my love,” the primordial being laughed, sipping on her drink. “Bait her just a little,”

Agatha’s hands clenched into fists, eyes blazing as she saw Alice reciprocate, squeezing your hand in hers a little, pulling you a tad bit closer.

They snapped, it seemed, when you shot them a wink.

“Screw this, I’m making that brat pay,” Agatha hissed, going over to you both.

You leaned back in your seat, feigning innocence. “Aggie? You look a little bothered, what’s the matter?”

Agatha’s blood began to boil, and you knew it. A sly smirk came over you as she muttered a gruff word of adieu to Alice, leading you away.

“Let’s go,” she hissed to Rio, guiding you back to the car.

You waited for Agatha to speak as you sat in the back seat, but strangely she didn’t.

“Bunny…” came Rio’s voice—disconcertingly soft and gentle. “Exactly what did you think you were getting out of riling me and Agatha up?”

You fidgeted with your fingers. While you bratted out ever so often, getting reprimanded, however gently, still hurt.

“Attention…” you admitted ashamedly.

“Attention?!” Agatha spat, irritated. “The only thing you’re getting out of that stunt is a whole lot of punishment, bunny,”

"No, no, no, daddy, I'm sorry!" You exclaimed. Agatha and Rio's punishments were the worst. It always involved a lot of begging, a lot of crying, and enough denial to make you want to scream.

"Too bad, bunny," Rio chuckled. "You dug your own grave,"

You leaned your head back, eyes closing in defeat. You were very, very screwed.

The second you three entered the house, you were met with a sharp smack on your bottom, given by Rio.

"Upstairs, now," she said firmly.

"And strip while you're there, would you, bunny?" Agatha added, her sweet tone only giving away more of the fact that she was fuming.

You were quick to obey, dashing up the stairs to sit and wait for them, kneeling on the bed, naked and shivering a little.

As they entered, you felt goosebumps rise on your skin. Agatha's expression was, as usual, very readable, yet terrifying. She was mad, and you could tell by the way she didn't even look at you as she went to the 'special' drawer.

Rio, on the other hand, was a closed book with an enchanted lock. Her eyes were soft, her touch was the same, but her words were stinging, condescending, and conveying enough for you to know that she, too, was just as mad as Agatha.

She sat on the bed, stretched out and relaxed. She snapped her fingers, the command sharp and clear, "Come here, bunny,"

You quietly and obediently crawled over to her, not in the mood to worsen your punishment. You sat in front of her, not meeting her eyes. In response to your demeanour, she chuckled lowly, grabbing your chin firmly to make you face her.

"God, you're so stupid, aren't you bunny?" She chuckled, squeezing slightly. Your brows furrowed only slightly, as her gaze shot to Agatha, who was leaning against the foot of bed on her palms, eyes fixed on you.

"She really is," the woman agreed, standing straighter and coming closer. You caught a glimpse of what she was wearing--a purple lace lingerie set, the one you knew Rio liked.

"How do we begin, hm? Maybe our sweet bunny could choose the first punishment?" Rio purred, letting go of your chin. You took it as an allowance to look down, but as your head dropped, you felt the cold tip of her knife kiss the underside of your jaw. "Eyes on me, sweet girl," she laughed.

"No way," Agatha said, scowling. "She's gonna get twenty, and she's going to thank me for each and every one," her hands caressed your ass gently as she hissed, "Isn't that right, bunny?"

Before you could squeak out even the smallest 'yes daddy', she had landed one sharp smack on your ass, making you whimper softly. She'd positioned you on all fours such that you faced Rio, the knife keeping your eyes on her, leaving your bare behind to Agatha.

"Count," Rio ordered, pressing the knife against your skin hard enough to make you wince. "And thank her for each one,"

Agatha started over, each spank feeling harsher than the last. You didn't make a mistake, thankfully, but by the end you were a crying, soaking mess, your skin stinging.

"Aww..." Rio cooed, wiping your tears with her thumb gently. "Was daddy too harsh, bunny?"

You nodded with a whine, breathing a sigh of relief when you felt the knife lower, and crawled into Rio's arms, while Agatha rubbed some ointment on your reddened skin, providing some relief.

They were mad, but they never liked seeing you in too much pain.

"Alright, bunny," Agatha purred, snapping her fingers to make a velvet collar appear around your throat. She grabbed it and gently pulled you down so you were aligned with your face between Rio's thighs, which, with the help of magic, were devoid of any clothing.

“Make mommy feel good, bunny,” you heard Rio grin, laughing through her teeth in that gritty way which made you weak at the knees. “Be a good girl…”

Quietly and obediently, you began to suck on her clit, earning a sharp whine from her as her hips arched towards your head, her hand tangling into your hair. “Fuck, you’re so good, bunny…” she breathed, a heavy moan falling from her lips as you thrust your tongue inside her, eating her out expertly. You knew every inch of her, so every move of yours was calculated, feeling a rush of pride as a string of curses, praise and moans fell from her lips so effortlessly as you worked your magic.

Suddenly, you felt Agatha tug at your collar, a silent order to stop. You did so, earning a desperate whine from Rio.

“Daddy’s turn,” Agatha smirked, pinning you down on the bed, making you squeak in surprise ever so slightly. You felt her hand fist in your hair, the sharp pull feeling nice, sending a rush of pleasure to your already sensitive core.

She positioned herself over you, ordering curtly, “Make daddy cum, bunny,”

You nodded and put out your tongue, letting her ride your face, her clit bumping against your nose as she did, her moans like music to your ears. You felt Rio’s hands all over you, slipping between your slick folds every now and then to tease, making you a squirming mess, while you moaned il into Agatha’s dripping cunt.

“Such a good little slut for me and mommy, aren’t you, bunny?” She panted, her hips going at a steady pace, words punctuated by a breathy moan each time.

“Look at her, she’s dripping on the sheets,” Rio giggled, her two fingers running up and down your slit, making you whimper into Agatha.

“You get off on being used like this, bunny?” Agatha panted. “Like a cheap toy for us?”

You couldn’t speak, not with her using your face, but the answer was evident and clear: yes.

You heard Rio’s laugh, and felt Agatha’s hips starting to get more irregular in their pace. She came over your face with a loud moan, perhaps audible to the downstairs neighbours.

“Clean it up,” said Rio firmly, seeing you about to squirm away from under Agatha. Quietly and obediently you licked her clean, breathing deeply.

“Good girl, bunny,” Agatha purred, sliding off you and gently petting your head. “Why don’t you keep Mommy company till I get right back, hm?”

You let out a quiet whine, nodding as Rio smirked and pulled you onto her lap, her hand going down to your dripping, aching, needy cunt.

“Oh bunny, you’re damn near tears,” she gasped, hand gripping your chin and her fingers squeezing your cheeks gently. “Are Mommy and Daddy being a little too mean?”

You nodded, making her nod with you somewhat mockingly. “Yeah?” She pouted. “Yeah, we’re so mean, aren’t we? Maybe if you’d been good, just maybe if you hadn’t acted so stupid, perhaps then we wouldn’t be so mean,”

You whimpered softly when she stuffed you with two of her fingers, eyes rolling back as you bucked your hips, begging her to move.

“Don’t,” she warned firmly. “Stay still bunny,”

You heard the tone—heard how it invited no argument, no defiance, and absolutely no resistance.

You nodded, making her smile.

“There’s my obedient bunny,” she chuckled darkly, moving her fingers inside you agonisingly slowly.

Agatha came back, her favourite purple strap around her hips and looking positively gorgeous as per usual—her hair open and wild, as well as her whole body radiating that kind of overpowering dominance which always had you on your knees in seconds.

“Bunny, come,” she said, standing on the edge of the bed, her eyes on you, taking in your flushed cheeks, sensitive body.

You obediently, though somewhat reluctantly, moved off Rio’s fingers, crawling to her and kneeling on the bed, eyes fixated on her.

“Down,” she pointed at the floor, brow raised. “You’re gonna put that smart mouth to use, hm?”

You nodded and knelt on the floor, parting your lips obediently, not wanting a second of more punishment. You felt your cunt, ever neglected and sensitive, dripping on the floor a little, making Rio giggle.

“Oh look at her, making a mess, so pathetic,” she said, laughing.

Before you could turn and react, Agatha’s hand had fisted in your hair, making you take her strap in your warm mouth. The sensation clearly made her moan, and you knew immediately—enchanted strap. You bobbed your head up and down as she pleased, moaning around her length, relishing the soft whimpers and expletives which spilled past her soft lips.

She suddenly pulled out, her strap connecting to your lips with just a sliver of your drool, and she pretty much manhandled you into position, your face in between Rio's legs, and ass in the air. You felt the green witch grab your hair tightly and hold it there, showing what she wanted, and before you could comprehend anything, Agatha's length filled you up.

A muffled yelp came past your lips, making Rio groan at the vibration on her aching cunt. Agatha began thrusting in and out of you, bottoming out every single time. The feeling of your walls around her cock made her moan gutturally, and with their constant teasing so far, you were quick to approach your high.

"You gonna cum, pretty bunny?" Agatha growled, her hands finding their place on your hips, squeezing the soft skin as you moaned into Rio's pussy as you replied, her juices soaking your tongue and face.

Before your high could crash down over you, Agatha pulled out, making you push your head back from between Rio's legs.

"Daddy no, no, please--I was good!" You whimpered, the easy tears gathering at your eyes.

"Tears again, bunny? God, such an adorable crybaby," Agatha giggled, placing you simply next to Rio. "What I want you to do is keep those pretty, sweet, teary little eyes of yours on Mommy and I, yes?"

You nodded, but felt Rio squeeze your cheeks sharply, her words that same, firm command. "Words, bunny,"

"Y-Yes daddy," you nodded, looking at Agatha with wide, scared eyes.

“Oh look at you, so fucking terrified,” Agatha giggled, using magic to bind your hands above your head, before she started to fuck Rio brutally with her strap, both their moans making you start to feel like you were going to explode with arousal.

Your whined and whimpered, trying to get their attention. You only got it when Rio came over Agatha’s strap, coating it in her cum.

She slumped forwards, breathing heavily, slowing her high down a little.

“I think…” Rio panted. “I think bunny’s had enough punishment,”

Agatha nodded in agreement, her hands coming to your hips to pull you forwards so Rio could hold you from behind, her hands toying with your nipples gently as Agatha lined up with your dripping pussy.

She pushed the strap through your soaking walls, moaning at the feeling, her eyes rolling back.

“Fuck, so wet…” she groaned, thrusting slowly and gently, while Rio held you close and kissed your forehead.

“Easy, bunny,” Rio purred, when you yelped as Agatha bottomed out. “Easy…”

Agatha continued at the pace you wanted and your body was flooded with feelings of ecstasy throughout.

You mewled out a small, ‘I’m close’,

Which made Agatha reply, “Cum when you want, my love,”

It just took that one order to have you coming undone under her and in Rio’s arms. You cried out and whimpered, repeating their names constantly.

As you came down form your high, you saw the strap vanish, and immediately there was cool water pressing against your slit tenderly. Rio. She cleaned you up, while Agatha held you, whispering sweet nothings to you.

“What did we learn, bunny?” Rio asked as she started running a bath for the three of you.

“Don’t make Mommy and Daddy jealous,” you mumbled, hiding your face in Agatha’s neck, feeling her laugh and stroke your hair.

Once everyone was bathed, sheets were changed, and in comfortable clothes, you snuggled into them both, watching a sweet Christmas movie together.

You acted up, but in the end, you knew they loved you.

i hope you enjoyed this, bao buns! sorry for how overdue and late this is and for that ending, I couldn’t figure it out :< feel free to request!

love, jaya

#agathario x reader #agathario smut #smut #fem!reader #agatha harkness x reader #rio vidal x reader

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