theo

they/she | ⚢ | adult masterlist | request rules

[milfharkness]

hii my name's theo. i'm an adult, pronouns are they/she & i'm an aro lesbian.

i'm probably going to be writing lots for agatha all along, mrs. fletcher & american horror story! pretty much exclusively for middle-aged actresses <3

18+ exclusively. if you follow me, you need to make it clear that you're over 18, otherwise i will block you.

masterlist | request rules

[milfharkness]

hi long time no see. i'm opening up commissions for palestine, if anyone's interested, send an ask or dm me

[milfharkness]

said you won't forget my name | boss agatha part three

pairing: agatha harkness x fem reader

summary: sleeping with your boss made everything a little chaotic—especially coming back the next day to work for her.

content: g!p agatha, dom agatha, sub reader, dirty talk, degradation, praise, oral (reader receiving), vaginal sex

Agatha Harkness wakes up alone.

Now, this is not anything out of the ordinary, nor is it a new change to her lifestyle.

But there is one thing about this morning that stands out—that makes it different from all the other mornings of the past few years,  in her penthouse apartment in black silk sheets—she wishes she wasn't alone.

Agatha is no prude. Looking the way she does, with the power and the money, the cars and the suits...she's desirable, and she knows it. She could have anyone. She has had a lot.

Women she picked up in fancy bars, in tight dresses and high heels that begged her to fuck them, or pretty girls at the law firm that she sent home in one of her cars after Agatha had ruined them—now, Agatha doesn't discriminate.

Everyone needs stress relief, and Agatha doesn't care what the women she uses for hers look like, as long as she finds them pretty and they obey her without hesitation. Though there is one thing all her former conquests have in common: she never missed them the next morning. She never woke up alone in her bed, wishing they were still next to her, curled up against her, skin to skin.

So, when her alarm goes off and Agatha opens her eyes, she's not exactly sure why her once dearly appreciated and cherished solitude feels like loneliness.

Blurry pictures from the day before flash in her head like polaroids, and she can't suppress a smirk. The cute little intern she'd been preying on for oh so long finally took initiative. Remembering the way your body moved against her, your lips on hers, the feeling of your tight, wet cunt—Agatha is definitely awake now.

But amidst the attraction to you and the feeling of accomplishment, there's something else. Something with which Agatha has not been familiar in a long, long time.

The rest of her morning follows its usual routine, but your face never fades in her mind and she certainly doesn't forget the things she did to you yesterday.

Neither did you.

It's still early when the elevator door dings and opens, and out walks Agatha Harkness in all her glory. She's wearing a cream-colored suit, tailored perfectly to show her curves in all the right ways—you can't believe this is really the woman that made you see stars only a day before.

Of course, being the overexcited intern that you are, you made sure to arrive extra on time today. Her assistant quickly joins her on the way to her office, handing her her usual coffee order, and you wish she wasn't wearing sunglasses so you'd know if the feeling that she was also looking at you was pure imagination.

When she's finally passed your small desk by the other interns, you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding.

Hours pass. You're sent out on more coffee runs than you could ever comprehend the number of (seriously, who is drinking all this coffee?), you copy probably important documents, you listen to the other interns gossip, but your mind never strays that far from Agatha Harkness.

What you don't know, behind closed doors, Agatha is having similar thoughts.

Hours pass.

The work you do get done certainly isn’t a lot, and probably nothing to be particularly proud of, but it’s simply torture trying to work with images of Agatha on your mind, having her way with you…you stop typing in the spreadsheet and take a shaky breath, trying to calm yourself. 

During lunch break, you’d spent nearly twenty minutes in the bathroom to try and quench your thirst by fingering yourself in a stall, but nothing helps.

Agatha has ruined you, and nothing could make you happier.

Fortunately for you, it’s such a busy day that other interns have left you alone for most of it, you really couldn’t deal with them at a moment like this.

You try to shake images from last night and be at least a bit productive again, but then, your phone vibrates on your desk. A message pops up.

My office. Now. 

Sent by a number that’s not saved in your contacts, but you know exactly who it’s from regardless.

You practically stumble to get up and make your way towards Agatha’s office, your mind racing with questions you wanted to ask her.

At the forefront: What was last night? And could you please fuck me again?

She’s already standing in front of her desk when you enter. Internally, you debate on whether or not to lock the door, but her hard gaze tells you that you should.

“Hi.”

“Hey.”

“You wanted to see me?”

Playing it cool, nice going. Agatha smirks.

“I always want to see you.”

You practically melt at the comment and take a few steps closer to Agatha. 

“You’re such a flirt,” you say, warmth spreading through your body. She’s in a pantsuit again, a black one, and you’re not sure how long you’ll be able to control yourself around her.

Although, she’s not too sure herself.

Her smirk disappears, and she clears her throat: “Let me preface by apologizing for how…rough I got yesterday. I said and did things I didn’t know you’d be comfortable with, and I never wanted to leave you feeling mistreated.”

The only time you felt mistreated yesterday was when Agatha pulled her cock out of you, but you figure telling her that right now wouldn’t be beneficial.

A smile, a genuine smile passes your lips: “You’re so cute.”

“No, I’m serious. If, at any point yesterday, I made you feel-”

“The only thing you made me feel, Agatha, was wanted, and hornier than I’ve ever been in my entire life. And, um,” boldly, you take another step towards her, closing the distance between you, “you still make me feel like that.”

Agatha takes a deep breath, trying to collect herself. She shouldn’t, she really, really shouldn’t…but who is she trying to fool? She always gets what she wants.

Right now, Agatha wants nothing more than to have you.

She cups your face, much more gentle than before, and kisses you. One of you moans into it, not sure who it was as it gets more heated, passion filling you both and causing her cock to stir.

It’s not fireworks, the kiss. More like fire itself, burning slow but hard, uncaring, and God, so warm. One of your hands wanders up into her hair, the other to her pants—over the expensive fabric, you rub her hardening cock, hearing her groan into the kiss.

Agatha reaches for her zipper, the drag agonizingly slow until finally, her cock springs free. She’s been inside you in more ways than one, but the sight has you salivating, reaching for the hem of your skirt.

Agatha strokes herself to full hardness as pathetic whimpers escape your mouth, longing to be the one touching her instead, as you take off your clothes quickly, not bothering to put on a show for her—arousal runs through you in waves and you can’t bear to focus on anything but getting Agatha’s cock inside of you as quick as humanly possible.

“You look so cute, so desperate…you dream about me last night?” The first part of her sentence still sounds hard and mocking, but by the second, a hint of sincerity has snuck in—Agatha looks at you expectantly.

“I didn’t do much sleeping,” you reply sheepishly and avert your gaze. Like she couldn’t have known you would fuck yourself to the memory of her doing the same to you all night.

Agatha chuckles.

“Must be pretty sore. Poor girl. Want me to make it worse?”

“Oh, God. Yes, please.”

“Bend over my desk.”

Four words, a simple command, but it sounds so delicious coming from Agatha in her dominant voice. You comply and move to bend over her desk, the cool wood against your nude form sending shivers down your spine.

And when she finally moves behind you, Agatha wasted no time, pushing herself into your waiting cunt with a single thrust—you ache around her cock and let out a shaky breath, pain and pleasure alike mixing and making it hard not to grind back against her hips.

Gone is the reserved Agatha, so elegant and nonchalant, as she is practically feral in her move to fuck into you from behind, taking what she’s been longing for, taking what belongs to her.

“Taking me so well, good little whore,” she coos, dragging her nails across your back and ensuring marks you’ll later be able to admire in the mirror, when reality sets in and this is all over—you don’t even want to think about it.

Your cries fill the room. This feels punishing, raw, wrong, everything Agatha needs, and you’ll be damned if you don’t give it to her. Her other hand roughly pulls at your hair, a moan escaping through your teeth.

“S-so fucking good, Jesus,” you breathe out.

She then moves it to your clit, rubbing it between two tightly pressed fingers and you arch into the pressure, chasing the fullness, and your orgasm hits you, fast and hard and leaving your mouth open in a silent ‘o’, her entire body convulsing as the slapping sounds of flesh on flesh continue through the office.

When Agatha cums inside you barely a moment later, groaning, and you feel her warmth fill you up, you wonder: How did you get here, needing so desperately to fall apart at the hands of a woman more than twice your age?

You smile a bit at the thought, deliriously full of her with her cum dripping out of you and her cock still buried deep inside. She’s panting, and your smile almost goes unnoticed, but Agatha catches it and gives a small smirk in return, her hair sticking to her sweaty forehead.

“What’s so funny?”

You don’t have it in you to answer, so you just smile a little wider. Her piercing blue eyes are locked in on you when she moves to pull out, to which you respond with a whine.

“I’ll be slow, okay?,” Agatha assures, not mean anymore but rather, surprisingly sweet, “I’m taking you home. There are some things I wanna do to you that aren’t possible here.”

You need a few seconds to process, you can barely understand how she has the mental capacity to be making decisions and voicing them out loud after that earth-shattering orgasm, and Agatha adds, quieter: “If you want to.”

All you do is nod, and wince when she does pull out. Oh, well. There’s most certainly more to come.

Agatha's house is...to be expected. Modern, minimalistic, expensive but chic—everything she represents, all black and white and tasteful, and you're sure you could spend hours exploring her home she'd just driven you to, if you weren't absolutely crazed over wanting her to fuck you and she carried herself similarly as she leads you up a staircase, blazer discarded at its bottom.

When she kisses you, it’s passion pure. You meet her easily, with a small, high sound she can feel in the kiss. You latch your arms around her shoulders, and she picks you up with ease, your skirt lying somewhere in the room on the ground. When she sets you down, her bed creaks, a quiet promise of what's to come.

Agatha kisses your collarbone, your neck, leaning over you on her soft mattress. When you come out underneath her to switch positions, she lets it happen with a smirk.

"Such a pretty girl," she says, seemingly more to herself than to you, and you respond by grinding on her hips—Agatha moans.

You feel her length against your cunt, nothing but the thin silk of your underwear and her boxers separating you. You lean down to kiss her throat, dragging your mouth up her neck to her jaw while your hips find a slow, steady rhythm. When you bite her lip, your center dragging along the outline of her cock, a shamelessly loud growl rumbles from Agatha's chest.

She can't get her hands off you, always touching, hands sliding over your back, gripping the nape of your neck, trailing over your ribs to your hips, pushing you to move faster. You whine, breathing hard, letting her move you like a doll, until her quiet moans turn harsher.

"That's it," Agatha whispers when your leg muscles tighten, "My good, good girl, doing so well for me."

She dips her thumbs into the crease of your thighs, your bare, hot skin and the lacy line of your underwear under the pads of her fingers. You let out a gasp and fumble to undo your bra, letting it fall away and exposing your breasts to Agatha.

"So beautiful," she says quietly, admiring your body with a smirk on her face, "You're such a pretty girl."

"Your pretty girl," you answer, biting your lip as you continue to grind against her cock.

Your face tips skyward when she sucks your nipple into her mouth, a long moan that makes her thrust into you. You reach down between the two of you, frantically pulling at her belt, but she leans back, relaxing into the mattress, stalling you.

Agatha draws her thumb up and down along the line of your panties.

You hold very still, your thighs clenching rhythmically against her own. When she glances down, Agatha hums through her nose and slips her thumb under the material of your underwear.

You're so wet her cock jumps as the heat of you burns straight through her. You both let out a moan, and you arch back, your mouth falling open when she circles your clit lazily with her thumb.

"That feel good? Come on, talk to me, pretty girl."

Agatha keeps the same slow pace as you riding her, watching you struggle to speak with the pleasure she's building in you.

"Y-yes, it feels good."

She hums in approval as you throw your head back, electric jolts sent through your body with every touch Agatha grants you, your knees pressed like a vice around her hips.

Agatha is certain, she could come from watching the way you melt against her, hearing every noise she's drawing out of you.

"You wanna cum?"

"Yes, please," you force out.

Abruptly, Agatha stops any and all movements, removing her hand completely. You collapse in a whine, but don't have time to complain when she lifts you once more and flips you, so fast all your breath rushes out in a strangled cry.

Agatha doesn't give you enough time to question it, just shifts to her knees on the floor and pulls your underwear to the side, immediately sucking your clit while her palms press you open.

"Fuck," you force out with a choked moan, letting your hands dive into her hair, pulling her close while you swivel your hips, grinding against Agatha's face.

Your whimpers fill her bedroom as Agatha's hot breath teases you, your hips jerking as you claw at the sheets for any stability when Agatha presses her tongue flat against you.

Agatha continues to lap at you like you've known her to, like she's starving, and your knuckles whiten from tightening fists in her sheets as your hips continue to roll in her face.

"God, yes, Agatha," you moan, feeling yourself nearing the edge, your hips losing their steady rhythm.

When Agatha sucks your clit and sends you over the edge, your vision blurs—tired limbs and complete bliss, kisses you can barely register the feeling of on your thighs—and Agatha's voice, calming and grounding you the way she always did: "Stay here. I'll be back in a moment, darling. I'll just draw you a bath."

Then, a pause later, much more amused: "If one orgasm tired you out already, you're gonna be practically comatose by the time the sun rises."

[milfharkness]

Honey on your knees has me 🥵🥵🥵 Agatha being so mean during the blowjob has me 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

Agatha mentioned making R into the perfect sex toy 👀 would you ever be interested in writing something like that? (In that au or another)

omg thank you sm....i have actually considered writing smth like that, however not in this au...

it would definitely be noncon/dubcon fic with heavier themes, so yk it might not be for everyone but ❤️ oh well. i love love love mean agatha & you will Absolutely see more of that on my account lol

[milfharkness]

okay. so that was absolutely incredible ,, as soon as i realized that u posted i rushed over here to see 😭😭 ugh i’m so serious when i say i’ll be keeping an eye on you cause WOW

(psst by the way do u take emoji anons ,, would love to be “😸” c:)

YAYYYAA first ever anon on this account........

[milfharkness]

honey, on your knees (when you look at me) | boss agatha part two

pairing: agatha harkness x fem reader

summary: agatha wasn't lying when she said she's an incredibly generous boss.

contents: g!p agatha, dom agatha, sub reader, dirty talk, degradation, praise, oral (reader receiving), fingering (reader receiving), vaginal sex, spanking, talk of breeding

part one

You scramble to get on your feet, practically jumping to get to her black leather couch. You don't care in the slightest how pathetic you must look, you've never needed—or wanted—someone more than this woman.

Agatha's still wearing that smirk when she stalks over to you, a predator seizing up its eager prey: "So needy...take off your skirt."

You obey mindlessly and slide it down, letting it fall on the floor so you're left in your lace underwear, grateful that it's black so the wet spot wouldn't be as visible.

It really, really doesn't help when Agatha lowers herself to the floor in front of you and bites her lip. You squirm on the sofa, whimpering under her gaze.

"I fucked your throat once and you're already like this? God, how are you gonna act when I finally fuck your cunt?"

Still untouched (and painfully aware of it), you moan.

"Fuck, please just...God, anything."

Agatha takes pity on you. With a quick motion, she moves to unbutton your blouse, unnecessarily careful in not just tearing it off as if you cared about any piece of clothing at this point.

Once it's unbuttoned, you push it off your shoulders, much to Agatha's amusement: "Someone's eager."

"Agatha, please, I am so-...this is torture."

And it is. You can feel yourself throbbing, and you're not sure you've ever been this turned on in your entire life.

She ignores you, instead moving to unclasp your bra and taking it off you. Cold air hits your nipples and you inhale sharply when she finally touches you again, caressing your breasts with soft hands. Veiny hands. Fuck.

"So pretty, such a pretty girl," she mumbles more to herself than you, watching your nipples harden under her touch. You don't stop squirming, your hands making their way into her hair, trying to guide her lower where you so desperately need her. She chuckles at your attempt, sending vibrations through your body and making you whine.

"Agatha, please, I need you so bad..."

"Mm...beg."

Isn't that what you've already been doing? Whatever.

"Agatha, please just fuck me...need your mouth, your fingers, your cock, anything, need you to fill me up and make me yours."

Agatha releases a low growl at the last part and you bite your lip in anticipation—her next touch is soft, caressing your bare thighs. When she finally pushes your underwear aside, not even bothering to take it off, you gasp at being exposed to the cold air—she actually moans at the feeling of you on her fingers, dragging them through your folds lightly before circling your clit.

Your eyes flutter and your head falls back against the back of the couch, mouth opened in a silent scream, eyebrows knitted together. You've been so turned on for so long, you're certain it won't take long for Agatha to make you come undone.

"Good girl, y/n," she coos, face contorted in pleasure.

When she finally pushes a finger into you, you feel like you're ascending to heaven. She curls it immediately and doesn't hesitate to add another.

"Fuck," you call out, breathy and high-pitched, "Harder, please."

She obliges, thrusting into you (much too slowly for your taste), hitting a spot that made you see stars, and leaving you gasping.

You arch your back off the couch and just when you really think you're gonna die, she closes her lips around your throbbing clit and sucks.

The moan you let out is borderline pornographic and she chuckles against you, the vibrations driving you even crazier than before.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!," you exclaim, nodding your head vigorously.

She replaces her lips with her tongue, drawing small circles around your clit before flicking it—your hands are still fisted into her hair, trying desperately to pull her towards you, craving more pressure.

"Please, Agatha," you sob, "I need more, please give me more..."

Agatha hums: "How bad do you want it?"

"So fucking bad, holy fuck, I'll do anything."

"Anything? Jesus, you're a slut."

"Your slut, Agatha!"

"Mm...I guess you do deserve it," she smirks.

So Agatha gets to work. Drawing circles, flicking, once more closing her lips around your clit and sucking, all while thrusting into you and curling her long fingers inside of you, God, just the thought of her hands is-

"Come on, baby. Be good for me, cum for me."

It's like time stills—at her command, you immediately come undone, slipping into a state of bliss from one second to the next, a stage you never imagined someone would be able to put you in in a matter of minutes, not even in your bed at night with your hand between your legs, to some magazine with Agatha on the cover.

You don't know how long you lay slumped against the couch, brows knitted together, eyes closed, panting heavily—it might be minutes, might be hours, you don't know and you don't care.

Only once you hear shuffling around the room do you open your eyes, and the sight makes your heart skip a beat. Agatha stands by the side of the couch, her blazer and her blouse torn off and somewhere on the floor behind her. Her pants are still on, but like before, zipped down with her hard cock on full display, one hand on the arm rest and one stroking herself. Your eyes widen and you look up at Agatha, just to be met with that signature smirk of hers.

"Oh, did you think we were done already?"

You get up immediately, legs slightly wobbly when you walk towards her and cup her face to do what you've been wanting to do since the first time you saw her—you kiss her.

It's not heated, but soft and warm. She tastes like you. When you slowly pull away, Agatha is smiling puts her hand over yours.

Your hands move from her face to her neck, collarbone and finally, her chest. You hesitate, but Agatha nods: "You can touch."

And you're planning on taking full advantage of that. You unclasp her bra with one hand, running your thumb over her nipple and leaning down to put your mouth around her other one. She inhales sharply, fisting her hands in your hair and pulling—a whimper escapes you, and she chuckles, head thrown back as you continue to suck, lick and kiss.

A gasp tears itself from her throat and you smile to yourself, proud to be able to get such a reaction from the big bad lawyer.

"You're so beautiful," you murmur against her skin, "I wanna do this forever."

"Fuck, I might let you."

You look up at her—disheveled hair, wide eyes, mouth slightly agape, she looks like a fucking dream.

When she meets your gaze, her tongue darts out and she licks her lower lip.

"Bend over."

You don't dare disobey and bend over the side of her couch, propping yourself up on your elbows. A blanket is thrown over it, warm and soft, keeping your skin from sticking to the leather.

With way too much self control, she slowly slides a finger inside. Agatha bites back a choked little groan, pumping her finger in and out of you before adding a second. You just whine, still sensitive from your first orgasm, letting out jagged breaths every time she curls her fingers inside you.

"Jesus fuck."

"Such foul language for a pretty little girl like you, hm?"

You'd be rolling your eyes if you had the brain capacity left to think about what she said. It's like your brain is cotton candy, all inhibitions lost, with only thing on your mind being Agatha Agatha Agatha.

"y/n? I asked you a question. I expect an answer."

"Yes," you reply shakily, just praying that that's what she wants to hear.

The stimulation is not quite enough, you think desperately to yourself, with nothing on your clit, but you still roll your hips, trying to force her fingers deeper.

"Little slut," you can hear her hiss.

Without warning, her free hand comes down on your ass with a sharp smack. You yelp and squeeze your eyes shut, face contorted with pleasure.

"Please, please fuck me."

"I am fucking you," she responds coolly, accentuating her sentence with a particularly hard thrust and curling her fingers.

"Your cock, Agatha, I need your cock!"

"Greedy little girl."

"Yes, fuck, I'm so greedy, need you inside me so bad..."

Agatha chuckles, shaking her head: "I should've called you into my office and fucked you on your first day. Bet you would've let me."

"I would've," you nod vigorously, "Would've let you do anything to me."

She pulls her fingers out of you suddenly and you let out a sob.

"Would you have let me used you? Stick my dick in you on day one?"

"Yes," you admit. You want to cry from how empty you feel without her fingers inside of you—fortunately, Agatha has another idea on how to fill you.

Her fingers dig into your hips; she arranges them so that the head of her cock drags slowly along your pussy. You gasp and grind yourself down against her.

"Fuck!," she throws her head back, "You're so fucking wet. I know how bad you need it, baby, all you have to do is say 'Please, Agatha.'"

"Please—," you cry, voice rough, and she flexes her hips upward, pleased, nudging the tip inside of you. "—Fuck. Fuck, Agatha. You're fucking big."

She stills and her fingers dig into your hips, stopping your movement. "You can take it," she says, "You will take it."

You close your eyes, squirming around the intrusion, and try to shift your hips, to fuck yourself further on her cock, but her grip is like iron: "You gonna be a good girl for me?"

Speaking is so, so hard, but you manage to gasp out "Yes, Agatha".

She sucks air through her gritted teeth. And then, she slams you down onto her cock.

The stretch is intense. You clench around her, feeling so fucking full, before she withdraws and pushes in again, groaning loudly.

You're still sensitive from your first orgasm, as you imagine she is, so you know it's only a matter of minutes before you'll come again.

Her hips jerk upwards, driving her deeper than you thought was possible. There's no room inside of you for anything else, nothing, not even thoughts. Just Agatha and the way her cock is splitting you open.

"Perfect little cunt, so fucking tight and hot for me," she groans, "Knew you fucking would be, knew you'd feel so good around me."

You whine your agreement in cute little whimpers, ripped from your mouth as she rolls her hips. Agatha's fingers dig themselves impossibly tighter into your skin, leaving marks—the thought of her leaving marks makes your eyes flutter open—as she grinds herself into you.

"Gonna cum inside you," she growls raggedly, "gonna fill you up and breed you."

She tears a hand away from your skin to reach underneath you and messily rub your clit with two fingers, reveling in the way you spasm around her, moaning loudly.

"You're all I think about," she growls, thumbing roughly at your clit, "At work, at home, always want you so fucking bad. Wanna keep you, do anything I want to you."

"Yes," you gasp, "Yes, anything you want, I'm so close."

"Already? I should train you to last longer for me, make you my perfect little toy...come on, toy. Beg me to let you come."

"Please, Agatha, fuck, please let me come. Oh, please," you whine, pushing yourself back into her, spreading her legs further to give her better access to your clit.

"Okay, okay, fuck, come now."

With a last thrust of her hips, you come, biting down on your lip so hard you think you might draw blood as pleasure ripples through your body once more, and you seize up.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, baby," she chants as you clench tight around her, "Feels so fucking good, fuck."

You gasp out another moan as hot cum floods your cunt.

Agatha groans, long and loud, pumping through her aftershocks. Her skin is hot against yours and the warmth inside you makes your eyes roll back in your head.

Agatha doesn't pull out. Minutes pass with her inside you, not a single word spoken, as you both calm down from your highs. Sweat clings to you, you're hungry and you could really go for a shower—but you don't want to leave this moment. You think you could probably live in it.

That is, until Agatha does eventually pull out. You let yourself rest fully against the couch, still silent as she cleans the both of you with more wet wipes. You vaguely hear her getting dressed again, before she takes a seat right next to where you're laying on the couch—still bent over its side.

Her hand makes its way into your hair and she strokes it, more slowly and carefully than you would've expected. She even lets out a little laugh at the sight of you: "Baby, c'mere. Let's get you dressed."

Your response is a long groan. Even just the idea of standing up is so far away. The only thing close is Agatha's voice, her touch.

She hums, enamored smile and soft gaze, when she stands up again and collects your clothes: "You'll get cold, darling. Come, sit up, we can—okay, you're probably gonna have to...throw out this pair of underwear, wow."

She sounds almost impressed.

"I'll just—I'll buy you new ones. Do you like Thai? I'm getting kind of hungry. We can eat here, people'll start leaving soon, anyways."

You crack open an eye to look at her. She's straightening out your blouse, and you smirk: "Domestic."

"Hey, aftercare's important," she snorts.

"Thai food in your office is aftercare to you?," you slowly peel yourself off the couch, inhaling sharply when your legs touch and you're reminded of now sensitive you still are, and probably will continue to be for the next few days.

"Oh, sorry, would you prefer Italian?"

"Just get over here, Miss Harkness," you scoff as she hands you your blouse and skirt, putting them on carefully, "Jeez, are you like this after fucking other interns, too?"

"Like what?"

"Just come hug me, my God."

Agatha, despite looking slightly irritated, walks over to you and lets you wrap your arms around her, even going so far as to pull you slightly onto her lap.

"You okay?," she mumbles into the crook of your neck. The slight hint of concern in her voice melts your heart.

"Yeah. Just...so tired...I don't think I've ever cum so hard, twice, within, like...twenty minutes?"

Agatha looks pleased with herself: "You got any plans for today?"

You shake your head.

"Come over to mine, then. We'll order food there."

You perk up, raising an eyebrow with a grin on your face: "Oh, is that what it takes to be invited to yours? Best blowjob of your life and my pussy?"

Agatha huffs, unable to hide a genuine smile, and tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear: "You're just assuming that was the best blowjob of my life?"

"Am I wrong?"

"No. Still bold, though. Want me to get you a coffee?"

"Can you just...stay here for a bit?"

"Yeah," Agatha nods. If you weren't completely spent, you might've wondered if this is what she looked like nervous. Her free hand now rests on your thigh with the other one still stroking your hair, and you feel a strange sense of comfort.

"Anything you want, honey."

[milfharkness]

wanted to stop by and say how much i loved the first part of honey, on your knees (when you look at me) and can’t wait for the next ahhhajdhshwh ,, will be keeping my eye on you

wait stop this means everything to me omg...gonna work on part 2 now just for u <3

[milfharkness]

honey, on your knees (when you look at me) | boss agatha part one

pairing: agatha harkness x fem reader

summary: even though your job mostly consists of taking rich, arrogant lawyer's coffee orders, you're still grateful for the opportunity to work at such a prestigious firm. especially considering that your boss, agatha, is the hottest woman you've ever seen.

contents: g!p agatha, dom agatha, sub reader, dirty talk, degradation, oral (agatha receiving), talk of breeding

part two

An angel must've blessed you for you to receive this internship, you think when you glance over to a table where a few lawyers have gathered to look over some documents together.

Amidst them, Agatha Harkness stands in all her glory, wearing a dark blue tailored pantsuit and looking gorgeous as ever, discussing points in whatever papers they were reviewing.

It's been two glorious weeks at the law firm, and despite your days mostly consisted of going on coffee runs, you wouldn't trade it for anything. The past few weeks here have been absolute heaven, thanks to your boss, Agatha Harkness.

An infamously ruthless lawyer, winning case after case and building a hugely successful career for herself—also, the hottest woman you've ever seen in your entire life. Every chance you get, you look at her in awe, admiring veiny hands and piercing blue eyes.

And sometimes, she stares back.

Right then, her voice cuts through the noise in the office: "Your level of incompetence is fucking baffling."

You eye her again, Though she's never particularly kind or open-hearted, today the tension around her seems much thicker. Interrupting stuttered apologies by some employee, Agatha lets out a scoff and leaves for her office: "Someone deal with this, if I have to be subjected to your ineptitude any longer I'll have lawsuit on my hands."

You smirk to yourself. She does seem very stressed by all this...you look around the office. No one's paying attention to you.

Doesn't look like anyone needs coffee right now.

While the group is still frantically going over the papers, you should probably care more about the actual work being done here, you make your way to her office practically unnoticed. That's one of the benefits of being an intern—no one pays attention to you. You're invisible, a ghost.

To most, at least. More than once, you've caught Agatha staring at you, giving you a smirk or winking at you—so this couldn't hurt, right? You'll just ask her if she needs anything. Nothing scandalous about it.

Obviously, her office is the biggest of the building. Once you've reached it, you take a deep breath and knock. After there's no answer, you knock once more: "Miss Harkness? May I come in?"

A sharp groan follows and she yells something you hope is "Come on in!", but very likely isn't.

Her gaze immediately softens at the sight of you, though, and she expectantly waves a hand: "How can I help you? y/n, is it?"

"Yes," you reply, surprised and proud at the same time that she remembered your name. The door falls shut behind you.

"I was just wondering if there's anything you need. You seem a bit stressed..."

"I'm not stressed, I just work with idiot apes."

You give her a soft laugh, then shrug your shoulders: "So, coffee? Or...anything?"

She raises her brow at that, even giving you an amused smirk: "Or anything?"

You avert your gaze, looking down at the floor and smiling timidly: "Just...I don't know."

"I'm afraid I don't know, either. Are you sure you don't want to explain it to me?"

The atmosphere in the room changes almost instantly.

Agatha leans back in her chair, and you hear your heart pounding: "Or would you like me to tell you what I think you're talking about?"

You nod immediately. She laughs, slowly getting up from her chair. The sight you're presented with is like right out of a fucking dream—she's hard.

"Fuck," you mutter under your breath when she stalks towards you, leaning back against her desk in front of you.

One hand grips the edge of her desk, while her other one slowly makes its way down, grabbing her crotch through her pants. You let out a shaky breath.

"I think," she says, unzipping her pants, "you want to get on your knees and suck my cock. Stress relief, right?"

It's almost embarrassing how fast you fall to your knees in front of her. She laughs again, holding out her hand for you to take. You do, and she slowly leads it to her crotch.

Carefully, you touch her hard cock over the fabric of her pants, mouth watering at the feeling of her twitch in your hand.

A low groan from above you makes you look up—that fucking smirk is going to be the death of you. Is this really happening?

"May I?"

You don't specify what you're asking permission for, but both of you know and Agatha quickly nods, pressing herself further into the desk and gripping its edges when you unzip her pants, only pulling them down to her thighs and sliding down her panties, cock springing free. Oh. She's big.

Curious, you run your fingers along her length before carefully grabbing it and giving her a few light pumps, each making her let out a little groan—with the way she's pushing herself further into the desk and gripping its edges, you figure she needs this really bad.

And though you want nothing more than to help her with her frustration, it's intimidating. She is big, really big, and it's your first time doing anything like this.

You stroke her cock again a few more times, mouth mere inches from it, when Agatha moves her right hand into your hair and tugs lightly, muttering in a low, hushed voice: "Suddenly so shy..."

You don't look up, completely transfixed by her cock, and give her a small, hesitant smile: "You're big."

She hums noncommittally, fingers curling in your hair while her free hand moves down, perfectly manicured fingers barely fitting around her own cock and taking over for you, stroking herself: "You've wanted this for ages, haven't you?"

"Since I started here," you admit, looking up at her through your eyelashes.

At that, she smirks.

"Come on. Be a good girl for me and open up, honey."

For a second, you're hit with a wave of insecurity—you'd never done something like this, and you absolutely could not afford doing a bad job at pleasing Agatha—but the sultry tone of her voice, her darkened eyes, they make the worries wash away on a whim, replacing them with a desire to please her, through whatever means necessary.

You scoot closer to her and make a mental note to thank her about the soft carpet in her office later, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out to start by giving her a few kitten licks.

But before you can realize what's happening, she puts her other hand on the back of your head and pushes hard, pushes you onto herself fast until her cock hits the back of your throat—you barely even register what just happened and gag immediately, put your hands on her thighs and push to try and get yourself off of her, but she's relentless, holding your head with her hands and releasing a low growl.

Tears begin to run down your face automatically, God, the stretch fucking hurts, you feel like you can't breathe—what the fuck is she doing? Again, you try to push yourself away, but Agatha remains firm: "Shh, shh, calm down...let me take the lead, okay?"

You look up at her, eyebrows knitted together, as you struggle to understand while letting out muffled sobs and trying to breathe through your nose.

Agatha lets out a dark chuckle, bringing her thumbs to her face to wipe your tears away. Her previous kind demeanor has disappeared into thin air.

"Bold little cockslut, coming into my office practically begging me to fuck her...teasing me all week. You've had this coming."

Just then, she thrusts her hips forwards—again, you choke and gag, fuck, the tears don't stop, while Agatha doesn't seem concerned in the slightest, muttering things incomprehensible to you and continuing to fuck your throat.

"Walking around like a little whore, shoving your tits in my face, giving me blowjob eyes every time I fucking look your way—wanted to bend you over my desk and fuck your cunt the first time I saw you, fill you up, make you take it," she accentuates the last words with particularly rough thrusts.

You let out a pained sob, her fingernails pressing into your skin.

"I know you're getting off on it. I bet you love this," she purrs, before letting out another moan, "How many times have you fucked yourself to the thought of this?"

A whine escapes you, and you wouldn't have answered her question even if you were able to, simply because the answer was too humiliating.

You accept your fate when breathing through your nose gets easier, and you put your hands on the back of her thighs. She smiles cruelly through her panting: "Bet you'd like that, if I filled you up and bred you. Crying like you don't know what you've been doing."

As embarrassing as it is, her words go straight to your core and you groan against her, vibrations causing her to, as well.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you think about how neither of you had locked the door. She fucks the worries out of you with another hard thrust, a burning sensation in your throat you can't be bothered to lament right now.

"Fuck," she pants, "I might have to keep you. My personal little fucktoy."

Your eyes roll back in your head at the thought. This is humiliating, but you're unbelievably turned on despite it...okay, maybe because of it.

Agatha's thrusts are getting shallower and faster, and her groans louder, she must be so close—fuck it, you think, and for a moment, you consider shoving a hand down your skirt and getting yourself off, but decide against it. You must be fucking dripping, the pain of her assault on your throat doing something to you that you can't even describe.

Another loud moan escapes her, sweat glistening on her skin (you don't dare to imagine what you must look like right now), and you're prepared to take her cum—when instead, she all of a sudden pulls you off of her with one hand, spitting into her other one and then putting it around her cock again.

You can't stop yourself from coughing, nearly doubling over, until she fists her hand in your hair and pulls you up, still stroking her length: "Keep your mouth open, tongue out."

Tears are still running down your face, but you do as she says without hesitation, sticking your tongue out while she jerks herself off, biting her lower lip to keep quiet.

When Agatha cums with a surprisingly high-pitched whimper, she does it all over your face, tongue and neck. You don't move until she slumps back against her desk and lets go of your hair, panting heavily with her head thrown back.

After maybe a minute of her breathing being the only sound in the room, she lets out a weak laugh and pulls her underwear and pants back up: "Fuck. I really needed that. Thank you, honey."

You swallow, her cum a whole new flavor you can already feel yourself getting addicted to, and exhale shakily: "Holy fuck."

Your brain feels fuzzy. Maybe it's lack of oxygen or maybe it's the sensation of your fantasies starring a hot, powerful, middle-aged woman coming true, but one thing is certain: you're not sure how you're supposed to be able to sleep with anyone else ever again.

"Enjoyed that, huh?," she teases, before adding: "You can get off your knees now."

"I...genuinely don't think I can move."

There's a glint of something in her eyes. You can't quite place what it is. She's still smiling when she returns to the other side of her desk and gets something from one of her drawers. It's a box of wet wipes. You snort: "Need those a lot?"

"Not often. And rarely ever with interns," she gets out a wet wipe and hands it to you. You accept it gratefully.

"I'm not the first one?"

She laughs a little: "Not the first. But definitely the prettiest...get on the couch."

You raise an eyebrow at her request.

She smirks again: "Baby, don't pretend you're not soaked...come on. Don't forget, I'm an amazing, generous boss."

[milfharkness]

request rules

i only write for fem readers.

i only write for fem characters.

if you have any questions, don't be afraid to dm me or send me an ask! <3

i will write:

(legal) age gaps, dubcon, noncon, pain play, blood play, manipulation, sex toys, intox, somno, pet play, breeding, pregnancy

i won't write:

underage, hateful content, age play, watersports/scat

[milfharkness]

masterlist

agatha harkness x reader

honey, on your knees (when you look at me) | explicit | 2/2 | tumblr post one, tumblr post two

claire debella x reader

coming soon <3