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LOVE POTIONS ☾·⋆✭⋆·☽ CHAPTER V

ship: agatha harkness x reader

summary: finale.

word count: 6485

warnings: modern/no powers au, mid20s!agatha, 18+, alternating POV, lesbian agatha harkness, lesbian f!reader (they/them pronouns), agatha&wanda are besties, background sambucky and wandanat, themes of lying and manipulation, agatha harkness is not a good person (self diagnosed), major alcohol use, victim blaming, references to verbal abuse, very minor character death/gun violence mention, agatha can't apologize like a normal person, cunnilingus, mention of strap-ons

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"Hey, open the door. I brought you food."

Bucky's voice is gentle from the other side of the door. You uncurl yourself from the blanket nest that you've made on the sofa. A few blankets fall to the floor, alongside the plush deer that Agatha had bought you. Its name tag was missing, so you've named her Eve. Part of you debated hiding Eve away somewhere that you couldn't look at it and think of Agatha. But instead she's stayed by your side.

You don't bother smoothing out your sweatpants, but you at least try to wipe your face with the back of your sleeve.

"Hi," you say softly as you open the door, voice a little hoarse from crying.

"Hi." Bucky gives you a tight lipped smile. As awkward as ever. He's carrying a couple of tupperware containers and holds them out to you. "Here. Sam wanted me to check on you and make sure you were eating since you haven't left the apartment in two days."

"I didn't think he'd trust you with such an important mission," you tease as you take the food.

"He didn't. But he's in Louisiana visiting family."

You start walking to the kitchen, and Bucky hesitates for a moment before realizing you're inviting him in. He follows and plants himself on one of your counter stools. Utensils clink as you open the drawer to grab a fork. You pop the tupperware in the microwave, and the smell of Sam's cooking quickly fills the kitchen.

Bucky and you are both silent as the machine hums softly in the background. He taps his finger on the counter, trying to figure out what someone is supposed to say in a situation like this. The microwave beeps.

"If I act sad enough, will Sam give me the recipe for this one?" You ask as you stuff some in your mouth, opening your mouth mid-bite when you realize it's far too hot.

"I think you'd have to be on death's door for that to happen."

"I can arrange that." You shrug. Bucky glares at you. "Sorry."

Bucky lets you eat for a while before hitting you with the horrible question. "So, how are you doing?"

"Shit. I had to put my phone in a different room from me so that I don't text her," you say honestly.

"I noticed."

"Please, like you ever answer your phone."

"Okay, Sam noticed," Bucky admits. You stab your fork rather violently into another piece of food. "Are you going to talk to her?"

"I want to," you say quietly. "I really want to."

"Sam told me to tell you not to settle for someone shitty just because you're lonely."

"That's the hard part though. I don't think she's shitty."

"You don't think that the woman who scammed you, stalked you, and lied to you about it for almost two months is shitty?" Bucky asks in disbelief.

"Okay, she did shitty things. But I don't think she's shitty."

"Actions speak louder than words."

"But her actions also told me that she cares about me. A lot," you state with full confidence. It's not delusion. You're sure of it. There was no doubt in your mind that Agatha's feelings for you were real. That's what makes this part so hard. "She notices basically everything I do. And she does sweet things sometimes, like when we went thrifting she got me that Beanie Baby. It would be easier if I thought she didn't care, to be honest. Then I'd just end things…Is it crazy that I'm not even that mad at her for it?"

"Yes, actually," Bucky answers honestly.

Yeah, that's fair.

"Well, I'm not. I think she really didn't mean for it to be some big plot to pull the rug from under me or anything. Like, I am upset. Don't get me wrong." You pace back and forth in your small kitchen, taking a moment to try to collect your thoughts. "I mostly just feel stupid for not reading the signs. Like, the red flags were right in front of me the entire time."

Honestly, the worst part—that you refused to speak aloud to anyone because you have to pretend to have some dignity in this situation—is that you did read the signs. You just blatantly ignored them. There was a huge, illuminated billboard above Agatha's head that said, "WARNING: THIS ZONE IS POPULATED BY AN EMOTIONALLY STUNTED DYKE WHO TAKES IT OUT ON EVERYONE ELSE AND HAS LITTLE REGARD FOR THE WELL-BEING OF OTHERS," and you walked right into the disaster site.

It makes you feel ridiculous. And, like Agatha had so kindly put it, pathetic.

"Yeah, they kinda were. You even ignored completely different red flags. Is she still stealing from customers?"

"Not helping."

"Sorry. Sam also thought I should say that he told you so. But maybe now's not the time."

"He can tell me himself when he gets back." You sigh and round the counter, sitting next to Bucky on the other stool.

"If it doesn't work out, there are other people out there. Ones who don't play games with your head."

"But I don't want other people. I want the one who's so infuriating that it makes me want to scream."

"Agatha is a mess," Bucky insists.

"I like her mess!" You say, throwing your arms up in exasperation. "I wouldn't have kept seeing her if I didn't like the mess."

Bucky doesn't have a retort to that.

"What do I do, Bucky?" You ask. "I don't want to just come running back. I need to show that I have at least a little bit of spine."

You do actually want to run back into Agatha's arms, but the self-preservation side of your brain won't let you. This has been all you've thought about for almost 48 hours. The last words that she said to you rolling around in your brain.

"She wants me to be the one to make the move," you say. "She's afraid to do it herself."

"Why?"

"Vulnerability is to Agatha like silver to a vampire." Bucky chuckles a little at the comparison. "If she wanted to break up with me, she'd just do it. But, since she left the ball in my court…"

"Ah, I see."

"Yeah."

After a few moments of contemplation, Bucky speaks up again.

"Look, I'm not exactly good at this type of thing. Maybe you should ask Sam for his opinion too…" Bucky scratches the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable with having this job. "But, maybe just give it a little more time and see if she comes to you and apologizes."

"And if she doesn't?"

"Then she's not interested in patching things up." Bucky shrugs. "I know you really like Agatha, but if she can't do that bare minimum, then I don't think it's a smart move to keep seeing her."

"Couples therapy did wonders for you, y'know." You nudge his shoulder with your own. Bucky rolls his eyes and pats you awkwardly on the back.

"I just don't think I handled it that poorly. I mean, three days and not a single text? They usually text me every time a light breeze passes. Now that something's actually happening, nothing? It's ridiculous, right Mister?"

Scratchy's nose twitches. Agatha groans, continuing her pacing around him. The apartment smells like alcohol, and there's food wrappers under her feet that she just kicks away. Music blasts through her speakers, far too loud and no doubt going to result in the old lady down the hall filing a complaint. But Agatha doesn't care. She needs to hear anything besides the voice in her head yelling at her.

"There's no way I'm reaching out first. That's stupid. If they don't talk to me, they're done with me. That's it. Why would I go chasing them?"

Out loud, it sounds an awful lot like coping. But Agatha is too drunk to notice it right now. She burps and grimaces at the residual taste of wine. She grabs a half empty bottle of water from the coffee table, chugging it and crunching the empty plastic. It gets tossed towards the kitchen, not even close to the trash can.

"Stupid," Agatha grumbles. "Stupid piece of shit. Can't even throw your garbage away properly."

Suddenly, the front door squeaks open. Agatha immediately reaches for the closest weapon-like object and winds up to hit whoever is invading her apartment. When she sees Wanda walk in, she lowers the wand vibrator and drops it on the couch.

"Um, heard of knocking?" Agatha scowls as Wanda walks over to her speaker and turns the music down. "I was listening to that."

"Yeah, that's why you couldn't hear me knocking." Wanda puts her bag down and starts picking up some of the trash on the floor and setting it in a pile off to the side.

"Did you just come here to clean? I don't hate that."

"You've been drunk texting me all day. I thought I should check on you," Wanda says. She sits on the couch, her hand finding Scratchy's soft head. "You haven't drank like this in years."

"I haven't been drunk texting you." Agatha rolls her eyes, grabbing her phone and looking through her messages. She doesn't look through the aimless yelling for long before tossing the device on the coffee table. She wants to throw it as far as possible, but you might text. "Fine. I have. Are you here to fix me or whatever? We both know how much you love a project."

Wanda doesn't say anything, just continues to pet Scratchy while watching Agatha start to pace angrily again.

"Go on, tell me how badly I fucked up. I could've handled it so much gentler. Held their hand while I apologized on my knees and begged for their forgiveness. I'm sure they would've loved seeing that. How fucking desperate I looked, begging them not to leave me. The great Agatha Harkness, reduced to a pathetic mess. Well, too bad. Because I'd rather die than do that shit." Agatha spits out the words like poison. Her expression is a bit frantic, and anyone who wasn't Wanda would probably have left her to deal with this crash out on her own. "Or, maybe they should've realized it sooner. I mean, come on. I have a fucking rabbit tramp stamp and fucked them while talking about the Triple Goddess. But let's ignore any signs that I'm into witchcraft, because it surely must just be a coincidence. Or the fact that I messaged them the same goddamn day that they bought a love spell. And if they weren't so desperate for attention in the first place, they never would've bought that obviously bullshit spell from a fucking Etsy listing!"

"Sounds like you've already got it all figured out," Wanda hums, glancing up at Agatha. She's known Agatha for far too long and has learned that poking the bear only makes things worse. Agatha wants the fight. So the only way that Agatha will calm down is letting her run out of steam.

The atmosphere is oppressive, squeezing Agatha's lungs so tight that she might burst. Agatha takes deep breaths and pinches herself hard, trying to refocus. After repeating that process a few times, Agatha pulls her fingers away from her arm and sees deep nail marks in them. The tightening is a little less intense. She sits down on the floor, tucking her legs up and putting her hands in her face.

Don't cry. Don't you fucking cry.

"Do you remember how we met?" Wanda asks, diverting Agatha's attention away from her spiraling.

Yes.

"No."

Agatha would really rather not think about high school, but she does remember. Wanda and Pietro were new students, a year below her. Agatha was being forced to help tutor other kids because, while she had perfect grades, she kept getting into worlds of trouble. Stealing, vandalizing, smoking on school property, you name it. Never cheating though. She did that work herself, thank you very much. Not that it was good enough for her mother, but whatever.

Pietro was a horrible student with a case of ADHD so powerful that even specialized teachers struggled keeping him focused. But, for some reason Agatha's methods clicked with him. Wanda was a good student other than struggling a bit with English still occasionally, but the twins were attached at the hip, so she always attended Pietro's sessions.

"I didn't think you liked me, at first," Wanda continues anyway, knowing damn well Agatha remembers. "You would tell me to fuck off or say that you didn't have time to babysit me."

"Can't imagine why you thought I didn't like you," Agatha mumbles, moving her hands from her face and resting her chin in her palm.

"But when I asked if you would check my work, you always told me how well I was doing," Wanda smiles softly down at Agatha. "You were a good teacher, you know."

Agatha shrugs. "I guess."

"And when we lived together after graduation—"

"Don't fucking throw all my bad shit at me right now."

"Oh, which parts? The days you'd be drunk or high out of your mind or when you'd remind me that Pietro died in an armed robbery?" Wanda asks snarkily. "The comments that he wouldn't have died if he didn't have a 'stupid savior complex' were really helpful."

"Hey, they made you angry enough to snap out of your comatose grief, didn't they?" Agatha excuses, like she always does. It wasn't fair, but she's never played fair. Plus, she likes to believe that Pietro would have thought the swiss cheese jokes were funny. "Get to the goddamn point."

"The point is, that even when you were in the worst part of your life, you helped me. When I got pregnant."

Despite her current brooding state, Agatha does feel a glow of pride at the memory. Wanda was pregnant with twins, boyfriend long gone, and in no state to raise them. Determined to keep them out of the foster system like she went through, Wanda was desperate for other answers. Orphaned, brother dead, all Wanda had was the shitty friend who slept on the couch because she couldn't live with her mother anymore and couldn't afford her own place. Agatha, with her determination and quick thinking, went hunting down suitable families that were looking for a surrogate.

The Kaplans were a lovely couple. They kept in touch with Wanda over the past seven years, telling her that when she's ready she's more than welcome to meet Billy and Tommy formally.

Really, being forced to help out is what put Agatha on a slightly better path. She doesn't say this though. Wanda is surely already thinking it. Probably cites herself as partially responsible for Agatha turning from an angry alcoholic to a mostly normal drinker who only got into bar fights for fun, not because she couldn't control herself.

"You care so much, and you're horrible at showing it," Wanda says, cutting through Agatha's reminiscing.

"Please don't go all, deep down, you're a good person on me," Agatha groans. "I can't take that shit."

"Oh, I'd never go that far," Wanda deadpans. Agatha manages to crack a smile. "You're an asshole most of the time. And you don't give a shit about most people. But the ones you do like…"

"Yeah, yeah," Agatha waves her hand dismissively. "Save the analysis. I get it. I'm a real sweetheart. Just strawberries and sunshine over here."

"You need to talk to them."

"Who said I want them back? Maybe I realized that I don't actually care about a relationship that's only lasted a couple of months."

"Even if I didn't have multiple drunk texts saying exactly that, I would know. For one, your relationships usually last two days. Rio aside," Wanda points out. Agatha growls at the mention of her ex. She's surprised that Rio hasn't sensed Agatha's distress and popped up out of nowhere like she usually does to try to squeeze back into her life. Though, this time, Agatha thinks she might have the self-control not to entertain the toxic embrace. "You wouldn't have gone this far if you didn't care. You can hide it from everyone else, but not me. I've seen every horrible side of you, Agatha. I know the difference between when you're running because you're putting something behind you and when you're running because you're scared."

"I'm good at running, huh? Should try out for the Olympic sprint."

"And pushing too. Great at pushing people away."

"I might be too good at that one," Agatha sighs. She twists her rings around her fingers. "So, they're gonna come running back to me soon right? And I can get a really great ego boost and vindication that I actually did nothing wrong?"

Wanda narrows her eyes. Scratchy looks at her just as judgmentally. Traitor.

"Ugh, fine. Fuck my life."

The sun is still bright when you head out of work on Monday. Winter is making way for warmer weather and longer days at last. You squint in the bright light, having left your sunglasses in the car since you're so used to not needing them when you leave.

There's a car idling by the curb, and you don't think much of it since you can't even see that well in the light. Then it honks at you. You jump and clutch your bag tighter. You pause and finally get a good look at the car. The window is rolled down. You walk over to it, heart beating faster in your chest.

It's been a little over a week since you've seen her, and now she's shown up out of the blue.

"What are you doing here?"

Agatha's eyes are hidden behind her sunglasses. She's wearing the leather jacket that she bought at the thrift store, rolled up to her elbows. Her nails tap against the door of the car, black nail polish chipped. The last time they were painted was when you did them for her before your bookshop date. They shine in the sunlight.

Did she put a top coat on the chipped polish?

"Get in." Agatha nods towards the passenger seat.

"Why?"

"Just get in."

The breeze from the open window feels nice as Agatha drives. You're afraid to ask where you're going. You're afraid to say anything.

Is this going to be like before, where neither of you acknowledge what happened and try to move on? It's not ideal. And you're not sure how long that will last before you break and ask what the hell is wrong with her.

The car pulls into an apartment complex. Agatha parks, takes the keys out of the ignition, and gets out of the car. She looks at you just sitting there dumbly and slides her sunglasses to sit on top of her head. Her eyes have dark circles under them.

"Well, are you going to come see my apartment or what?"

The thought crosses your mind that you should be screaming at her right now. Or crying. Or being firm and demanding an apology before you come inside with her. But, instead, you suddenly find yourself sitting on her couch while she goes to her bedroom to grab something.

You look around. This is her space. The place she kept secret from you. It smells of lavender and the sickly sweet that surrounds her when she vapes. There's tied up trash bags by the kitchen counter as if she just cleaned. A scuffed spot on the wall near the door where she kicked off her boots.

Agatha's footsteps return, and suddenly something warm and fuzzy is dropped into your lap.

"Here, take this."

"What? Oh!" You gasp as you realize it's a rabbit. Her rabbit. "Scratchy?"

"Mhm." Agatha smiles as you immediately start cooing over her pet. She's shed her jacket, wearing just a t-shirt now. Her crow tattoo peeks from under the sleeve. She's not wearing a bra, you can see the outline of her nipple piercings.

Focus.

"So…" You trail off. You're not sure exactly how to do this.

"So, do you forgive me?"

"What?" You look at her, stunned. Agatha's expression is unreadable, so you can't begin to judge if she sincerely thinks that you'll accept this non-apology. "Agatha, you know you usually have to say sorry to be forgiven, right?"

"It was worth a shot, right?" She gives you a stupid smile. God, she's so infuriating. It fades quickly, eyes falling to look at Scratchy instead of you. "I…I don't do apologies. I usually piss people off enough that they don't even want one."

Scratchy hops over from your lap to Agatha's. You watch as she holds him close to her face, rubbing her cheek against his fur. It isn't lost on you that Agatha even bringing you here is her attempt at making things right. The fact that she came to you first is already something. Far more than what you expected. If she'd ghosted completely and you never saw her again, you wouldn't have been surprised given what you know about her history. Maybe this is as close as you'll get to Agatha admitting she was wrong, and you should just accept it. It's tempting.

But, even if you don't get a real apology, you want more answers.

"Why didn't you just tell me?" You ask. "At the beginning, I mean. Or just, introduced yourself like a normal person. I wouldn't have thought it was weird that you looked me up."

"You want the honest answer?" Agatha challenges. You nod. "I just wanted to see if I could pull it off. I thought for sure that you'd suspect something and put the pieces together."

"My fault for trusting you, I guess." You roll your eyes.

"Hey, I let you know from the beginning I was a top tier con-artist." Not exactly what you want to hear right now, but she's not wrong. "I shouldn't have been surprised it worked for as long as it did, to be honest. You looked past a lot of my…eccentricities pretty early, after all."

"I was hoping that your scamming was limited to elderly people in grocery stores."

"Yeah, well." Agatha shrugs. She sets Scratchy down on the floor and watches him hop around. Her hand finds yours. Not lacing your fingers together, but just resting on top. Giving you a chance to pull away. You don't. She takes a deep breath. "I don't have a good history. So, I had no reason to believe that we'd make it past the first date. Or the second date. Or any of the dates after that. I kept up the facade because I assumed that you'd eventually see through my bullshit and leave. Or that I would get bored."

"But I didn't."

"And I didn't either." Agatha smiles. "And by the time I realized, I was in my own scheme too deep to get out smoothly. I was trapped in my own stupid bullshit."

"What made you decide to tell me when you did?"

"Well, Wanda gave me a stern talking to, for one," Agatha admits sheepishly. "But really what pushed me to say it was when you started talking like some unseen force was the reason I was into you. I couldn't let you keep believing that."

You fidget by playing with her fingers and running yours across her palm, over the lines of her hand. The debate running in your mind has reached a standstill. The big question that still lingers is the deciding factor. You think that you know the answer, but with how much Agatha has played with you, it can't go unanswered.

"So, you never faked your feelings for me?"

"No." The response comes faster than you can even process it. Agatha looks at you, blue eyes intense and serious. "Never. Magic didn't bring us together, and no schemes made me stay. It was just you and me."

Your hand shakes a little as you bring it up to Agatha's face. Her skin is warm. She nuzzles her cheek against your hand, eyes closing. You lean in, pressing your forehead against hers.

"You know, that's not completely true," you say.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, magic technically did bring us together. You wouldn't have ever found me if I hadn't bought that spell. Even though you didn't cast it, the results were the same, yeah?"

"Very clever," Agatha chuckles, nose bumping against yours. "That's a much cuter story, isn't it? Drawn together because you wanted it enough. Maybe you're the witch here."

Soft lips meet your palm as Agatha places a gentle kiss there. "Are you still mad at me?"

You suspect that Agatha meant for the words to come out more playful, a classic Agatha mask. But her voice quivers a bit, almost imperceptibly.

The reality hits you that you are so deeply caught in this woman's web that it's pathetic. At least you're acknowledging it this time.

"I never was," you admit. "You made me feel really fucking stupid, but I couldn't get myself to be angry for long."

"Don't feel stupid," Agatha says firmly. She chews on her lip, eyes worried. "How can I make it up to you?"

Agatha Harkness does not apologize with words, even in the face of possibly losing you. But that question tells you everything you need to know. You pull back, looking at her pleading expression. No jokes, no acting, just Agatha. She might not be able to say it, but you know that the apology is there. It's written all over her face.

Nothing you could say would fully comfort Agatha from the vulnerability she's feeling right now. Instead, you lean in slowly, giving her time to pull away. She doesn't. Agatha's lips meet yours with a desperation that startles you momentarily. Her hands come up to cup your face, thumbs swiping across your cheeks as she starts to guide you to stand.

Clothes get tossed around her apartment floor on the way to Agatha's bedroom. The warm lighting illuminates her dark sheets that she pushes you down onto. You'd like to look around more, see what kinds of decor and mess she has laying around. But there's more important things to attend to.

Cool metal brushes against your now bare torso, Agatha's exposed nipple piercings brushing against your skin as she kisses down your body. Agatha wraps her arms around your thighs, hiking them over her shoulders. You tangle your hand in her mane of hair as she starts to bite your inner thighs. Tugging her up briefly, Agatha makes a disgruntled sound at the act of being pulled away.

"You're really sorry, right?" You pant, eyes full of need.

"Yes, baby. I am," Agatha finally admits, trying to push forward out of your grasp so that she can eat you out. Feeling a little mean, you hold her in place. It's deeply satisfying, seeing the pure evidence of Agatha's want for you. She'd never act this desperate outside of the bedroom, and you feel like you deserve to see a little groveling. Really, it's the least she can do, and this is definitely the only way you're going to get any verbal acknowledgement out of her. While her face is between your legs.

"I don't know," you hum. "What if you're just saying that so you can taste me?"

"Baby, if you let go, I'll show you just how sorry I am." Agatha's voice is husky. As vindicating as it would be to draw this out, you can't deny yourself the pleasure any longer. You release her. She lets out a feral noise and dives in, tongue pushing through your folds with fervor.

"Fuck, Agatha," you moan, head falling back against her pillow.

Wet noises fill the room, and Agatha is murmuring things that you can't make out at first. Through your haze, you can finally occasionally make out "sorry" and "missed you." Spilling all the words that she can't say to your face into your dripping cunt.

Agatha's lips wrap around your clit, suckling hard before swiping down to your entrance again. Your hips buck, her hands tightening around your thighs.

When you finally come, Agatha kisses your pussy until you're too sensitive to take any more. She trails her lips up your body with reverence. You feel her straddle your thigh, her own slick cunt rubbing against your bare skin.

Agatha's hair falls in curtains around your head as she looms above you, rocking her hips against you. You grip her waist and help guide her. Agatha gasps as her puffy clit finds the right friction.

"That's it, right there," Agatha moans. "You feel so good, you make me feel so good."

You pull her down for a kiss, her movements against you never ceasing. Mid-kiss, you feel dampness that isn't saliva on your cheeks. Agatha's crying. You pull back a bit and kiss one of the falling tears.

"Agatha, do you need to stop?"

"No, no, no. Anything but that," Agatha chokes out. "I…fuck. You're so good to me. Too good. I don't deserve it."

"Baby, it's okay. Don't talk like that. I've got you," You coo, sitting up a bit so that you can embrace her a bit better. Agatha's face falls against your neck. She's crying in earnest now, but she's still grinding down sloppily. Like the only thing keeping her grounded is her cunt against your thigh. You keep kissing her, keep whispering sweet nothings.

Sex must have sent all these pent up emotions into overdrive, and now they're spilling completely out of Agatha's control. You hold her through it, a solid thing to anchor her so she doesn't get lost, through every tear and through an orgasm that bursts through her with such force that she gushes against your thigh and falls completely limp on top of you.

The room feels still again as both of you try to catch your breath, sweaty bodies molded against each other.

"Are you leaving?" Agatha asks when you gently roll her body off of yours after a few minutes. Her voice wavers ever so slightly.

"I'm not going anywhere, promise. I'm just going to get us some water, okay?"

Agatha sniffles and nods, hiding her face in her pillow. No doubt smearing her runny eyeliner all over it. Moments later, you return and give her a water bottle that you already downed half of on the way back to the bedroom. As Agatha chugs the rest of it, you scoot back into bed beside her.

Both of you are slick with sweat and arousal, but Agatha immediately climbs on top of you again, as if making sure that you can't leave again.

"That was embarrassing," Agatha grumbles against your neck.

"What was?"

"That," Agatha emphasizes. "Ignore everything I did and said."

"No, I don't think I will." You nuzzle against her head. "You're wrong, by the way."

"Fuck you, no I'm not," Agatha huffs before asking. "What am I wrong about?"

"You said you don't deserve me being good to you. That's not true."

"No, I think you're definitely far too good to me. You probably should've punched my lights out in that damn museum."

"Probably. But that wouldn't have exactly helped the situation."

"But it might've felt good."

"Agatha, do you want me to punch you or something?"

"I don't know!" Agatha groans. "I feel crazy right now. Don't listen to me."

"Alright, fine. So bossy."

The moon shines through the window now, full and bright, rays streaming through Agatha's dark curtains. You shift, draping a blanket over you both. Agatha gets cold easily, always pressing her icy hands and feet against you to steal your body heat. She grumbles incoherently when you move her.

In the silence, you contemplate it all, wondering if letting Agatha back into your life is the right choice. What if there's more that she's keeping from you?

"Hey." You get her attention by poking her cheek.

"What?"

"Is there anything else you were hiding from me?" You ask bluntly. "I want this. I want you. But I would feel better knowing we had everything on the table, y'know?"

Agatha props herself up on her elbows so she can look down at you. Her hair is a tangled mess, and you know she'll be bitching about brushing it in the morning.

"Seems reasonable. Let's see…Oh, remember when I fucked you in the bookstore?"

"Yes…" You trail off, suddenly worried about whatever this reveal could be.

"The fantasy I mentioned. I had that the first time I saw your pictures."

"The first…When you were stalking me?" You blink in disbelief, then shoot her a little grin. "Agatha, you were really that desperate for me?"

"Shut up!" Agatha scoffs, but that pretty flush has returned. "I was stoned and horny."

"I'm never letting you live that one down," you giggle. "Agatha Harkness being so needy."

"Gross. Just call me a perv like a normal person."

"Are you sure you didn't cast the spell?" You tease, but the thought did cross your mind. "I mean, your listing did say that it would make me irresistible. And it sounds like someone didn't resist."

"I'm going to hex you."

"Fine, fine!" You laugh at how red she is now. "Anything else?"

Agatha ponders this for a moment before saying, "I stole that stuffed animal I gifted you. Tucked it in the jacket pocket."

"You stole Eve?"

"Who the hell is Eve?" Agatha looks at you with utter confusion.

"The deer, Agatha. I named it Eve."

"Don't those things come with names?"

"The tag was missing, and I thought it was cute!"

"If you're into forbidden fruit, maybe." You pout at her, and she relents. "Alright, fine. It's cute. Are we good now? Clean slate?"

"If that's all you have left to confess to, then yes. We're good."

"I can't promise I won't still do shit like that anymore," Agatha says, referring to her scamming. "But not to you again. Obviously. Unless it's like, some weird roleplay. I'd be into that."

"I had no intentions of stopping your schemes, Agatha," you assure her. "Honestly, I think if I tried to stop you it would just make you do it more out of spite."

"Nice to see you have so much faith in me." Agatha says flatly, but she tucks her head into the crook of your neck, and you can feel that she's smiling.

"What about you?" She mumbles against your skin.

"What about me?"

"Are you hiding anything?"

"What the hell would I be hiding?" You scoff and shake your head.

"Ugh, fine! Will you at least tell me about a time you jerked off to me so we're even?"

"You're impossible," you murmur. She kisses you again to appease you. "Fine. When you sent me all those pictures of outfit ideas for your leather jacket, I touched myself to them."

"And you didn't tell me?" Agatha looks genuinely offended. "I would've come over! Or we could've sexted at the very least."

Suddenly, Agatha springs up from the bed and you watch her ass move enticingly as she goes over to her closet.

"What are you doing?" You ask, sitting up to get a better view of her bent over naked.

"I'm going to let you see the outfits in person, duh. Grab my harness from the side table, and we'll do this properly."

You practically fall off the bed with how fast you move to obey.

Agatha wakes with a groan, the sunlight streaming in far too bright for her right now. Her whole body aches in the most delicious way. She's not even sure how late it was when the two of you finally passed out from pure exhaustion, but it was worth every sore spot. You're waking up, rubbing your eyes and blinking the sleep away. Scratchy is sound asleep in his pen in the corner, making squeaky rabbit noises as he dreams.

Agatha can hardly believe that this is actually real. She kisses your cheek. You giggle and your lips find hers. Morning breath be damned, the two of you kiss each other over and over again.

"Hi," you smile up at her. Agatha pecks you on the lips again.

"Hi."

"Do you have work today?" You ask, wondering how soon the real world will impede on cuddling.

"Fuck if I know." Agatha rolls off of you and grabs her phone from the nightstand. Hundreds of missed notification bubbles fill her screen, and she ignores most of them.

As she's flipping through messages from managers asking where the hell she's been for the past few days, Agatha scrolls by an Etsy notification. Another spell order.

"Ugh. Maybe I should just close my Etsy," Agatha says. You sit up and wrap your arms around her, head resting on her shoulder.

"Does it make good money?"

"It's fine, I guess." Agatha opens the order and squints a bit at her screen. God, she hopes she doesn't need to get her eyes checked soon.

It's another love spell order. Agatha almost tosses her phone aside to contemplate it later, but she glances at the request first.

"The pretty girl I'm dating has major commitment issues. Can you cast a spell to help her ask me to be her girlfriend officially?"

She doesn't even need to look at the customer name. Agatha whips her head around, smacking you in the face with her hair. You dissolve into laughter at the look on her face, falling backwards onto the bed.

"When did you even send this?"

"When I took a break to pee last night."

"I don't have commitment issues!" Agatha shouts.

"Prove it then." You grin at her.

Agatha can't help the smile on her face as she moves over you and tilts your chin up with her finger. "You're gonna have to butter me up a bit more than just a pretty girl, angel."

"You're in no positions to make demands, baby."

Fuck. You've got her there.

"Fine." Agatha closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, mentally preparing herself to ask the question. When she looks at you again, her blue eyes sparkle in the morning light. "Would you like to be my girlfriend? Officially?"

"Yes. On one condition," you say. Agatha raises an eyebrow. "We have to finish our museum date this weekend."

"I think that can be arranged." Agatha kisses you again, humming softly against your mouth. "But seriously. Just pretty girl? Nothing more specific?"

"What, you want me to say pretty girl with a perfect face and amazing ass?"

"That's literally exactly what I want," Agatha says like it should be obvious.

"You're ridiculous," you say with pure affection in your voice. Agatha's forehead comes to rest against your own.

"And you are officially stuck with me."

"Lucky me."

💜💜💜💜💜

authors note: FRET NOT! i'm not nearly done with this universe. i have a couple of oneshots planned that i'll get to...at some point. some silly. some maybe dramatic (maybe rio actually making an appearance 👀?). and definitely some more just smut stuff because we have not properly tapped into the freak of these two yet i swear.

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