[holyblanchett]

Kathryn Hahn flirting with this journalist for over a minute. I don't think it was casual.

[azaleasallalong]

i'm obsessed with how engaged kathryn is in every single conversation like i could be telling her the lunch special and she would nod along and hold my wrist like i'm reciting sacred holy text

[despazito]

His little pony...

[themythicalcodfish]

all cats are on the autism spectrum

[ariascoven]

riding darkhold!agatha’s fingers, sitting on her lap while she looks up at you with the most lust-filled eyes the world has ever seen. she doesn’t move her her fingers, no — she lets you take what you want, what you so desperately need. she lets you control the pace, lets you use her fingers for your own pleasure, adoring how your walls flutter around her and the soft little whimpers falling from your lips. she grins at the way you bounce, and bounce, and bounce, hand gripping your waist and squeezing.

"you're so desperate for mommy's fingers, hm? you love the power seething from them, don't you? such a wet naughty thing, bouncing like a little bunny."

[ariascoven]

riding darkhold!agatha’s fingers, sitting on her lap while she looks up at you with the most lust-filled eyes the world has ever seen. she doesn’t move her her fingers, no — she lets you take what you want, what you so desperately need. she lets you control the pace, lets you use her fingers for your own pleasure, adoring how your walls flutter around her and the soft little whimpers falling from your lips. she grins at the way you bounce, and bounce, and bounce, hand gripping your waist and squeezing.

"you're so desperate for mommy's fingers, hm? you love the power seething from them, don't you? such a wet naughty thing, bouncing like a little bunny."

[covenofagatha]

Masterlist

Agatha Harkness x reader

Nicky's mom has got it going on:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3 (NSFW)

I'm a good girl, Detective:

Part 1 (NSFW)

Part 2 (NSFW)

Part 3 (NSFW)

Birthday girl (NSFW)

My fair lady (NSFW)

A helping hand (NSFW)

Sweet dreams (NSFW)

But you're my stepmom!

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3 (NSFW)

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7 (NSFW)

Part 8 (NSFW)

Part 9 (NFSW)

Part 10 (NSFW)

Sugar, spice, and everything nice

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3 (NSFW)

Bad day (NSFW)

A gala to remember (NSFW)

Nurtured desires (NSFW)

Home is where the heart is

A lesson in jealousy

Part 1 (slight NSFW)

Part 2 (NSFW)

Knocked up and turned on (NSFW)

Swimming into her arms

Part 1 (NSFW)

Forgive me, Father (NSFW)

Part 1 (NSFW)

Part 2 (NSFW)

Cherry cola (NSFW)

Agathario x reader

Two professors and a student

Part 1

Part 2 (NSFW)

Part 3 (NSFW)

Part 4 (NSFW)

Part 5 (NSFW)

Chains for your love (NSFW)

[missnightshade]

❝ THREE OF SWORDS ❞

Agatha Harkness x Reader

Request? No no. But I promise I'll work on some requests soon.

Summary: Agatha is no stranger to pain and loss. Yet, somehow, even the thought of losing you is too much to bear.

Warnings: Hurt/comfort. Sickness. Mentions of death (not Rio this time). English not being my first language. Poor ending skills.

Word count: 1.1K.

The Three of Swords:

Grief, heartbreak, and sorrow.

Agatha Harkness was a totem of pain. Most wouldn’t know or believe it to be true. The Witches community could only measure her to their own rules and deception. She was a killer. A heartless, powerful and unruly woman, born to no good deeds.

But for a green eyed, younger witch, she was everything but a bad person.

You would always be reminded of a ghost memory of a smiling Nicholas, laughing in a field of dandelions as his mother chased him. Agatha was carefree then. Her previous Coven a memory left behind and her actions justified by the sweet smile little Nicky would give her.

Agatha never told the full deal with her son’s existence till he was gone while the other woman, still getting to know the Harkness witch, held her by Nicky's grave. It was now lost somewhere in the forests of Massachusetts, long gone and rusted, but his passing held a strong place in her heart still.

Centuries might pass, but it was certain that nothing would hurt her more than that. Not her mother’s hate. Not her trial by the people who she was raised with. Not the many people she lost along the way.

But one day, as you fell sick to the bed, something as strong as her son’s death came close to hurting her.

You laid there, the same green eyes tired as something twisted your health. As Agatha cared for you in the coziness of her newfound house in Westview, you grumbled as the whole contents of your stomach flooded from your mouth into the bucked Agatha held close to you. Her soup, your favorite, completely gone now.

“Doll..we should see a doctor. You haven’t left the bed for three days.” She argued, trying to fix your hair behind the left ear.

A laugh scaped you as your hands, damp and cold, grasped at her touch to make it last. Agatha’s fingers stayed there, slowly moving to touch your right cheek.

“I am a witch, love, much like you. Doctors will do me no good.”

She ruffled, but as her hands felt the hotness that irradiated from your skin, her eyes roamed over the pale face in front of her. Agatha’s thoughts were much like a fortress in the night. Hidden. Protected. But not for you. She felt at ease by your side after so many years. Trust was the one thing only you could give her. And then, as you saw her eyes glistening under the soft glow of the bedside lamp, her mind presented itself like an open book.

She feared for your health. The fever and weakness of your body reminded her so much of her last night with Nicholas. Nothing would hurt as much as it did…but losing you to the same fate as him was painful. A pain that not even with all her sorrows and heartbreaks, she was ready to go through again.

“Aggy…” You whispered and when your sweet tone scaped weekly, the bucket was left in the floor as she tried to scape your gaze so the tears rolling down her cheeks wouldn’t be seen. “Love, look at me.”

The weak request acted like knife to her fragile heart. Agatha was tough on the outside, but not at all on the inside. Her gaze softened as her eyes, glazed and red, found yours. You reached out even with your whole body begging for some rest, and without any complaints, she quickly found her place in the bed you shared. She needed comforting, but her body was the one to hold yours. Your lips found their way to her collarbone with sweet kisses untill you reached her face. You nuzzled her cheek, hand gently holding her face to bring her to face you in the comfort of the bubble you both shared. Agatha sniffled, softly tightening her hold to your as if to stop you from fading away. Understanding her needs, you pressed flushed to her, breathing deeply.

“I’m here, my love. And I am not going anywhere.” You reassured. Agatha opened her eyes, gazing at you from the few centimeters between you both.

“You’re so sick, Doll. It worries me that you…you will…”

“Go meet him?”

The way your words stung left her breathless. Agatha had a difficult time speaking up about Nicholas even since. But while she failed, you didn’t. It was important for her to still mention him. To treat him like he deserved: an important part of her that, although painful, was beautiful.

She nodded, and you simply smiled.

“If I was to meet him…know that he would be loved even there.” Her fearful eyes met yours again, but you continued. “But I am not to be dead now. I’m just simply ill. It shall pass. Like everything. Trust me on this one, baby. I’m going to be just fine.”

Agatha breathed out shakily, not noticing how much it affected her.

“I cannot lose you too.”

“You won’t. Ever.”

[ . . . ]

As the morning came, the energy shared between the two seemed to act like a love spell. The curing type rather than the bonding one. Stirring awake, the warmth of Agatha’s arms around your body was missing. You could wait and rest, but the ache and the dizziness were pretty much gone.

You raised, brushed your teeth even, and managed to find a messy haired Agatha quietly moving around the kitchen. She seemed busy with a tea in her hand and potion tools all over the place as something boiled in her ironed cauldron. As she looked up at your figure, her tea was almost spilled all over the countertop as she rushed to your side.

“Doll, what are you doing up?” she touched you, analyzing your whole state as you laughed softly.

“I felt better, so I came down for breakfast. “ You gathered her euphoric hands to kiss her knuckles. “But you…what are you doing?”

Agatha looked over her work station for a minute before going back to you.

“I had a crazy dream-memory about a potion that I used to make for Nicky so he could feel better. I thought it may work better for you.” Her voice trailed behind her thoughts. “You feel better?”

Softly, your hugged her neck with your arms gently bringing her closer.

“Yeah. Not a hundred percent, but much better.”

She breathed out, relived. But even so, she gently walked with you closer to one sip of the potion already ready for you.

“Still. Take this. Can’t have you feeling worse again.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart fluttered.

“Only because I love you.”

As you chugged down the contents of the cup, Agatha observed you from her place at your side, fingers gently stroking your waist. Seeing the color back to your pretty features calmed her chaotic mind, and she was reminded once again how important you were to her. When the potion was done, she pulled you closer, kissing every bit of skin that you showed.

“I love you more, stubborn girl.”

You were going to get better. You wouldn't be her sorrow.

[drghostwrite]

Your Honor, She’s irresistible…

okay not a request… but like I’m OBSESSED with this woman right now… like can’t get enough and can I just say round of applause STANDING OVATION for @covenofagatha… please my loves go support them, they’re literally amazing!!💋

side note: if this is bad PLEASE let a girl know, or if there is anything I should change… I’m begging, please let me know.

Okay enough rambling here is my take on an Agatha x reader…

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x fem!lawyer!reader

Summary: Reader is a cutthroat intimidating lawyer, but also a powerful witch… a witch that used to be the enemy turned lover of the Agatha Harkness, the lover that Agatha abandoned… one night Agatha reappears and rekindles an old spark.

Warnings: MINORS DNI, breeding kink, strap-on and oral smut(r receiving)

*******************************************************

You can feel the exhaustion clinging to you as you pull your sleek, black Range Rover into the garage, its low purr echoing in the enclosed space. The leather steering wheel feels smooth beneath your fingers, the faint scent of your signature perfume lingering in the air. You shut off the engine and exhale, leaning your head back against the seat for a brief moment before opening the door.

Something feels… off.

The air seems thicker tonight, heavier, as though it’s pressing down on you. You shake it off, slipping your heels onto the polished floor and shutting the door behind you with a practiced flick of your wrist, and you stride through the door that leads into your home, your designer heels clicking rhythmically against the floor.

You’ve had a long day, winning a nearly impossible case and leaving your opponents scrambling. The thrill of the victory is overshadowed only by the aching knot at the base of your neck. As you shrug off your tailored tan trench coat and hang it neatly by the door, you toss your keys into the porcelain bowl on the side table.

Your brain goes on autopilot as you pass through the living room, your eyes brushing over the soft glow of the fireplace and the way it casts golden hues against your minimalist decor. Nothing seems out of place. Still, that feeling gnaws at the edges of your awareness.

In the kitchen, you pour yourself a glass of deep red wine, savoring the way the liquid slides into the crystal glass. You take a small sip, letting it linger on your tongue, as you move back to the living room. That’s when you hear it—a low, sultry chuckle that sends a shiver cascading down your spine.

“Nice place. Very… you,” the voice purrs.

You whirl around, the stem of your wineglass nearly slipping through your fingers, and there she is.

“Agatha,” you say, tone as sharp as the stilettos your wearing.

Her smirk widened, eyes darkening as she purred, “Well hello to you to darling.”

Her voice was rich, smooth as silk but twice as dangerous as she sits lounging in your favorite armchair as though she belongs there, one leg crossed lazily over the other. Her signature purple pants cling to her in all the right places, the soft fabric stretching across her toned thighs. The white button-up she’s wearing is undone just enough to reveal a tantalizing hint of her breast, the glint of her pendant resting in the hollow of her throat catching the firelight. She looks smug. Dangerous. Devastatingly beautiful.

“Breaking and entering, Agatha?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. You take another slow sip of your wine, masking the way your pulse is racing. “Even for you, that’s bold.”

“Please,” her lips curving into a smirk. “Do you really think a deadbolt is enough to keep me out? Besides…” Her eyes trail over you, “I’ve been dying to see you in your element. You wear power well, darling…”

You can feel her eyes as they take in your strong form, the maroon suit, with your satin black top slightly unbuttoned, your satin designer heels showing off the curve and tone of your legs.

She bites her bottom lip while she smirks, “I mean, look at you… you’re far more tempting than you realize in those designer stilettos”

You scoff, but you can’t help the heat spreading through your body. “And you wear arrogance like a badge of honor… is this your idea of seduction, Agatha?… Breaking into my house and throwing around cheap compliments?”

She leaned forward slightly, resting her elbows on her knees as she studied you, a suggestive smirk on her lips. “Who said anything about seduction? But… if I were seducing you, I’d hardly call it cheap. I’d say something more like…” Her voice dipped into a sultry tone, and her eyes flashed with something dark.

“Your suit… flawless. But I bet you look even better without it. And those heels?… Darling, they belong wrapped around my waist.”

You tried keeping your composure but your face flushed at her words, at the image of your bodies tangled together, tasting her on your lips, Agatha in your bed, flashing in your mind.

Her chuckle deepens as she leans forward, “I missed this, you know? Missed you… That fire in your eyes, that razor-sharp tongue of yours. Tell me, do you save all your sass for me, or do your clients get to enjoy it too?”

“Get to the point, Agatha,” you snap, trying to ignore the way her words are already winding their way under your skin. “Why are you here?”

“To see you, of course,” she says smoothly, standing in one fluid motion. Her boots click softly against the floor as she steps toward you, her eyes never leaving yours. “You know, I thought time away would make me forget. But then I realized… I don’t want to forget you.”

Her words are velvet and steel, cutting and caressing all at once. She’s close now, so close you can smell her—lavender and something darker, more intoxicating. You don’t step back. Instead, you lift your chin, meeting her gaze head-on.

“You left me, Agatha… I should throw you out,” you say, though your voice has lost some of its bite as your lips are a breath apart.

“But you won’t,” she counters, a wicked smile tugging at her lips. “You’ve missed me. Admit it.”

“Missed what? Your penchant for chaos? Your never-ending ego?… something like that.”

“Admit that you love that I was never afraid of you… never afraid of your power.” she murmurs, her voice dropping to a near-whisper. Her hand comes up, fingers brushing against the lapel of your blazer, and you shiver despite yourself. “You missed this. Us.”

“Maybe… still, you think you can walk back into my life, my home and have me fall at your feet?” You shot back trying to hold onto whatever dignity you had left.

“My love, I don’t need you to fall at my feet… I just need you to take off those pretty shoes and kneel.”

Before you can respond, her hand trails down to your waist, her touch igniting a fire you’ve been trying to extinguish for years.

Damn her. Damn her and her perfect smirk, her piercing blue eyes.

“God, I hate you,” you mutter, your voice betraying you, trembling with need and something far more dangerous.

“Funny,” she says, leaning in again so her lips are just a breath away from yours. “Because I think I’m still in love with you.”

The words unravel something inside you. Before you can think, you’re kicking off your stilettos, pushing her back into the chair, dropping to your knees in front of her.

Your hands glide up her thighs, the fabric of her pants taut beneath your touch. Her breath hitches, and the sound makes the heat in your core pool even more.

“Say it again,” you demand, your voice low as you bury your face against her stomach, your hands gripping her hips.

She tightens her fingers in your hair, tugging just enough to make you look up at her. Her blue eyes are shimmering with something dark. “I love you,” she murmurs, her voice a seductive promise.

You rise slowly, crawling up her body until your lips crash into hers, years of tension and desire finally breaking free. Her hands are everywhere… your waist, your hips, your back… as you kiss her like she’s the only thing anchoring you to the world.

When you finally pull back, gasping for air, your hands move to her shirt, your fingers ghost over exposed skin before ripping it open to reveal dark purple lace. Agatha laughs, the sound rich and full and you can feel your body wanting to have every part of her.

“Impatient, aren’t we?” she teases, her hands skillfully take off your blazer and top, revealing black lingerie underneath, fingers splaying across the exposed skin of your stomach and sides.

“Shut up,” you whisper, pressing your lips to hers in a bruising kiss, her hand finding the clasp of your bra, pausing to see if you stop her.

You don’t.

“Still bossy I see… guess somethings never change.” You cut her off with another breathtaking kiss, her hands coming to support your hips as you straddle her lap.

“Agatha…” you whisper, suddenly very aware of how much you needed her touch.

“What do you need, my love?” She whispers teasingly, placing kisses along your stomach and breast, she bites into your breast leaving marks that will be found tomorrow morning.

“Dammit Agatha… I need…” her hands guide your hips as you grind down into her lap, trying to relieve the ache you feel building, her hand unbuttons your pants ghosting over the black lace panties.

“Your words darling… use your words.”

“I need you… to fuck me…” you moan as her hand dips into your panties, her long fingers sliding easily through your folds, ghosting over your clit, dipping back into you collecting your slick, as your pretty sure you’ve now ruined your underwear and a perfectly tailored pair of pants.

“Darling, I’m going to ruin you…” she whispers, suddenly pulling her hand out, you can see yourself glistening on her fingers as she puts them in her mouth, her tongue cleaning them before she pulls you down to kiss her, you can taste yourself on her lips.

You grind down into her hips even harder a moan escaping your lips at the friction, but this time you notice the bulge in her pants. You pull back and see her pupils blown with lust, her smirk devilish.

“Shittt…” you hiss at the realization making you even wetter than before, if that’s humanly possible. Immediately your hands were tugging at her pants as you stood to pull them down her thighs, the large purple strap on springing free.

“You didn’t think I’d forget your favorite part did you…” she teased, reaching for your chin as your jaw dropped.

“Why don’t you show me how you get ready to ride my dick?” She demanded more than suggested. You dropped to your knees in front of her again, dragging your tongue along the length. You let the tip smoothly slide into your mouth swirling your tongue around the toy, and quickly realizing it wasn’t just a toy when her head dropped back lips parted. Her hand came to wrap in your hair as you slightly bobbed your head.

She could feel this.

You grasped her thigh to steady yourself before taking the whole member in your mouth, almost gagging as it slid into your throat, her hand in your hair tightened but the sting only encouraged you. Your lungs burned for air as her hips jolted against you, but before you could continue she pulled you off, as she breathlessly readjusted in the chair. She smirked down on you before her nails lifted your chin, digging into the soft skin.

“I’m so screwed…” you whispered before bending down to kiss her again.

“fucked, darling… you’re so fucked…” with a wave of her hand you were both completely bare accept for the dick she was currently sporting, she grasped your hand to pull you into her lap, her hands coming to your thighs as she steadied you.

You bit your lip and a small whine escaped as you felt her pull the tip through your dripping core, she could see you dripping down your thighs, glistening in the soft glow from the fireplace.

“I’ve missed seeing you so desperate… so needy for me to fuck you senseless…” She whispered as she pushed herself inside you. You took a moment to adjust as you sank down onto her, you didn’t remember her ever being this big, but the pain quickly turned to pleasure.

You slowly start to move up and down, swirling your hips the best you could, you were so close already.

“Mmm…” she moaned before biting her lip, watching you move, “I forgot how good you look riding me.”

Her sultry tone was igniting a fire in you, your movements speeding up as you brought yourself to the edge of pleasure, one hand pressed to her chest as the other was on her thigh. You could feel her enchanted strap, her dick pulsing inside you, she moved an arm to wrap around your waist and roughly pulled you close.

You tried steadying yourself at the loss of balance, one hand coming to the back of the chair and the other slid up to grab the only thing it met, her neck.

You gently grasped to steady yourself and you could feel her groan catch in her throat, her hips bucking into you roughly and you clenched around her, sending you both tumbling over the edge. You bend down pulling her into a breathless kiss as your orgasm overtakes you, you can feel her painting your walls white as she cums inside you.

You stay like that for a moment before your hands lower to wrap around her shoulders, your brain barely able to form a thought.

The world around you blurs and you barely register as she shifts, so effortlessly changing the dynamic that your head spins. One moment you’re in control and the next you’re under her, her body caging yours on your plush couch. She pins your wrists above your head with one hand, the other slipping down to grip your thigh.

“Still think you’re in charge?” She asks, her breathe warm against your ear.

“I let you think you’re winning,” you grinned lazily, “Don’t get used to it.”

“Oh sweetheart, I never get used to anything with you, that’s the fun of it.” Agatha bends down her lips trailing the soft skin of your jawline and neck. Her hands mapping your curves with possessive hunger as she adjusts herself between your legs.

She has your entire being at her mercy, your magics surging through the room. Her hand comes down between your legs, finding your core dripping from the aftermath of both yours and her orgasms, her cum mixing with yours and leaking out of you, her fingers dip down to collect it before teasingly playing with your clit.

“Such a good girl, greedily taking my cum like that.”

She smiles devilishly, but before you can respond her mouth is on your pussy, eating you out, her tongue swirling on your clit as two fingers easily slip inside you, curling to hit that sweet spongy spot.

Your moans fill the room as she drags your body to the edge, her fingers continue to pump in and out, as her lips trail softly against your inner thigh, her teeth grazing to leave marks that you will find later. Your hand tangles in her hair as her mouth returns to your clit, your hips bucking into her, grinding against her mouth as she smirks up at you.

That’s when she pulls her fingers out, her tongue flatly coming to drag through your folds before she realigns her strap thrusting deep into you… a moan escapes your lip as she leaves wet kisses over your stomach and back up to your chest. You turn into a mess beneath her as she slowly, almost painfully slow, moves in and out of you.

Her voice is low and sultry when she finally breaks the silence, “Do you have any idea how stunning you would look pregnant?” She murmurs, placing wet kisses along your collar bone.

Your breath catches and you blink at her startled, “Excuse me?”

Agatha chuckles, her hands sliding down to grip your hips roughly. Her nails dig into your skin, possessive and firm. She lifts her head, her piercing blue eyes meeting yours,

“You heard me,” she says, her tone dripping with confidence. “I’m going to put a baby in you.”

Your mind spins at her words, a thousand responses swirling through your head. But Agatha doesn’t give you a chance to react, her lips return to your skin, and her voice drops into a whisper.

“Can’t you picture it, darling?” she says, her words punctuated by the warm press of her lips against your neck as she slowly thrusts into you again. “You, round and glowing, carrying our child. You’d look divine. Absolutely ravishing.”

The thought catches you completely off guard, and for a moment, you’re speechless. Agatha takes advantage of your silence, her hand sliding up your side, her touch gentle and grounding as her thrusts become quicker.

“You’d be mine,” she continues, her voice thick with possession as she feels you buck and clench around her. “Completely, utterly mine. Everyone would see it… see you… and know you belong to me. We’d belong to each other.”

You inhale sharply, your pulse hammering in your ears, your brain going completely blank aside from the image of you heavily pregnant with her baby. “Agatha,” you start, your voice uncertain, but there’s no denying the way her words send heat pooling low in your stomach, the knot tightening inside of you ready to burst.

Her voice drops to a husky murmur. “You’re already thinking about it, aren’t you? The thought of me putting my mark on you, making you mine in every way that matters.” Her lips ghost over your jawline, her breath warm against your skin her hips meeting yours harder. “You’d be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

The boldness of her words makes your cheeks flush, but beneath the surprise theres a thrill you can’t ignore. The idea is outrageous, unthinkable… and yet, there’s a part of you that finds it intoxicating.

You tilt your head, eyes meeting hers and you breathlessly whisper, “You’re awfully confident for someone who hasn’t asked my opinion.”

Agatha’s grin widens, “Oh, I don’t need to ask... I can feel it, the way you clenched around my dick when I mentioned filling you up. You’re tempted. You want it as much as I do.”

Her words are a challenge, daring you to deny her, but instead of pulling away, you arch an eyebrow, your hips grinding roughly against her. “And what if I do?”

Her eyes darken, the air between you crackling with tension. “Then tell me,” she murmurs, her grip on you tightening slightly. “Say it… Tell me to do it.”

For a moment, you hesitate, the weight of her words settling in your chest. But then, as you meet her gaze, steady and unyielding, something inside you shifts. This is Agatha… chaos and passion and raw, unfiltered power. If anyone could make such an impossible idea feel like destiny, it’s her.

You lean in, your lips brushing against her ear as you whisper, “Do it, cum in me and make sure I’m pregnant with your baby… make me yours.”

She grinned before pulling you into a breathless kiss, the sounds of wet skin meeting skin filling the room as she rammed into you over and over, your back arched into her as her hands ran over your body, gently slithering up your sides before one came to grip the back of your thigh.

You could feel her getting sloppy as she thrusted, her lips coming down to suck on a erect nipple as you tangled your hand in her hair, your other hand dragging your nails over her shoulder, leaving a wake of red scratches.

“Agatha… baby I’m gonna…” Before you could finish, the knot snapped, pleasure flooding your body as she continued thrusting harshly into you, soon you could feel her as she released inside of you.

“You did so well darling…” she trailed as she tried holding herself above you, the strap on still inside you.

After a few moments later you moved, with a flick of your wrist you found yourselves in your bed, still naked, but cleaned up and cozily tangled together underneath your blankets.

“You won’t regret this…” she trailed her skilled fingers tracing lazy patterns against the skin of your stomach and hip, “I’ll give you everything you wanted… and more.”

You didn’t say anything as you heard her breathing slow, her hand falling softly against you as she slipped into a deep sleep. There was a part of you that knew it might not work, you had been enemies turned lovers before and she abandoned you, but there was a bigger part of you that still loved her.

No matter how much you wanted to hate her, you loved her and wanted nothing more than to make it known that you belonged to her… and that she belonged to you.

[d-z20]

Caught in the Crossfire (NSFW)

Pairing: Rio Vidal x Reader

Summary: You're an FBI agent and get partnered with Agent Vidal on a big case. When the mission goes wrong and Rio gets shot, you are forced to stay at a safehouse together.

-OR-

They say orgasms are good for pain relief so you fuck Rio to make the pain go away 🙃

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, mention of gangs, gunfight, hurt (gunshot wound), smut, fluff

Words: 3.1k

A/N: They is me, I am they, I say orgasms are effective pain relief. Oh and this is another requested fic :)

AO3 link | Master List

Rio leans against the desk, tapping a pen against the stack of files she’s just dropped with a flourish. Her eyes pin you with a challenging stare. “Five bucks says you screw up this case before the week’s out.”

You glance up from your laptop, unimpressed. “Bold talk from someone who hasn’t cracked a case this big since Quantico. What’s the matter? Rusty?”

This was the rhythm of your partnership: sharp words, sharper looks, and a constant undercurrent of rivalry. You’d both been top recruits at the academy, though on completely different tracks—Rio had excelled at strategy and undercover work, while you were a natural at analysis and tactical planning. When you’d been paired for this joint case six months ago, it was clear you were opposites in every sense, and it made working together a special kind of hell.

The task force had been chasing a dangerous gang involved in arms trafficking. Their network spanned multiple cities, but all signs pointed to the heart of their operations being a hidden warehouse in the city. The gang was clever—covering their tracks with misdirection and red herrings—which made your job of piecing together clues exhausting. But a major break had come two weeks ago when Rio went undercover, infiltrating the gang as a low-level buyer. She’d managed to secure critical intel about their shipment routes and a few key players, but her cover had been blown when one of the gang members got too suspicious.

You’d both known the risk when she took the job, and while you’d been impressed by her quick thinking, you couldn’t ignore the danger that still lingered. Now, you were both back at square one, tracking their movements, one step closer to the warehouse and the showdown tonight.

“Tonight’s operation better go off without a hitch,” you grumble, glancing back down at the laptop. The tension between the two of you, always present when working these kinds of cases, never seems to go away.

Rio smirks and straightens up, walking closer as she flicks through some of the paperwork right next to your laptop.

“You’re standing too close,” you mutter, trying to ignore the way your heart beats a little faster at the sudden proximity.

Rio doesn’t budge, standing tall with that usual confidence. “You’re the one who can’t stand my brilliance that close to your face, huh?”

You grit your teeth, trying to focus on the case. “You just make everything more difficult.”

She smirks, eyes flicking to your lips as she leans in slightly. “I think you like it that way.”

—

The two of you sit in the cramped surveillance van, tracking the comings and goings of gang members through grainy security footage.

“Don’t get yourself killed tonight,” Rio mutters, strapping on her bulletproof vest. Her tone is teasing, but you catch the flicker of genuine concern behind her words.

“I’m not the one who’s always charging into danger,” you shoot back, pulling on your own vest.

“Someone has to, or we’d be stuck analysing spreadsheets all day,” she says, smirking.

Despite the banter, the tension in the air is palpable. This operation is the culmination of months of work, and failure isn’t an option.

—

The warehouse is eerily quiet when you enter. Your movements are synchronised—Rio leads the way, gun raised, while you keep watch.

“They’re here,” Rio whispers, gesturing toward the far end of the warehouse.

You nod, heart hammering in your chest. The two of you move closer to the group of gang members gathered around crates of weapons. Everything is going according to plan—until it isn’t.

A lookout you hadn’t accounted for shouts a warning. Instantly, all hell breaks loose. Bullets rain down as the gang opens fire.

“Take cover!” Rio shouts, pulling you behind a stack of crates.

You return fire, pulse racing as you try to assess the situation. “We’ve got to fall back!”

“Not yet,” Rio says, jaw tight. She pops up to return fire, but then a sudden cry of pain tears through the air. A bullet strikes her shoulder, and she collapses to the ground.

“Rio!” you shout, stomach dropping. Without thinking, you drag her behind a steel beam, using it for better cover.

“Stay down!” You bark, positioning yourself in front of her to shield her from the continuing onslaught.

“Don’t—” Rio winces, gripping her shoulder. “Don’t be an idiot. I can still—”

“Shut up and focus on not passing out,” you snap, returning fire as the adrenaline courses through your veins. The gang is closing in, and panic gnaws at you. You need to get her out of here.

—

The minutes before the rest of the task force storm the warehouse feel like hours; Rio is bleeding heavily from her wound, and all colour has faded from her face. The remaining gang members are finally subdued in a chaotic flurry of shouting and gunfire.

You don’t move from your position until the scene is secure. When it’s finally clear, you turn to Rio, voice tight. “You okay?”

“I’ve been better,” she mutters, her face pale but her signature smirk still intact. “But hey, you were pretty heroic back there. Almost makes me like you.”

“Save your breath,” you say, though relief is slowly replacing the panic that has gripped you earlier.

The on-site medic patches her up as best as they can; she was lucky the bullet went straight through, but her wound still needs close monitoring. You learn that a high-ranking gang member had slipped away at the start of all the chaos, but not before getting a good look at you and Rio. Since you know their network is likely everywhere, you decide transporting her to a hospital is too risky. You need a safehouse—a remote location where she can recover while you regroup.

—

The cabin is small, tucked away in a far-out forest. It’s equipped with basic supplies, offering the isolation you need to keep a low profile. You enter first, checking the place out. Then, you return to Rio, who is sitting on the edge of the bed, her arm in a sling, bandages covering her shoulder.

You linger by the door, watching her with an uncharacteristic softness you rarely show.

“If you’re here to scold me for getting shot, you can save it,” Rio says, her voice light but tired.

You step inside, setting a bottle of water down on the nightstand. “Actually, I’m here to make sure you don’t bleed out from being a stubborn idiot.”

“Touché,” she says, lips curving into a faint smile.

You hesitate, then take a seat beside her, the usual distance between you feeling smaller now. “You scared me back there,” you admit quietly, glancing down at her bandaged shoulder. “Don’t do that again.”

Her gaze softens as she looks at you. “I wasn’t planning on making it a habit. But you…” Her smirk returns, though it’s gentler this time. “You were incredible.”

Your cheeks heat, but you quickly brush it off with a shrug. “Someone had to keep you alive; the paperwork would’ve been horrendous otherwise.”

You turn towards her, carefully peeling off the bloody bandages on her shoulder. Your fingers brush against her skin as you work, and though Rio winces, she doesn’t utter a word of protest. The silence between you feels heavy but not uncomfortable.

As you apply the fresh bandages, you glance up, catching her watching you with an unreadable expression. Her lips quirk into a faint smirk, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

“You’re too quiet,” you say softly, trying to distract her. “That’s not like you.”

“Trying not to ruin the moment,” she teases, though her voice is quieter than usual.

Your hands linger for a moment after you finish, your gaze falling to the wound. “You need to be more careful,” you murmur, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

She tilts her head, her smirk softening into something more sincere. “And miss the chance to see you play nursemaid? No way.”

You let out a quiet laugh, but your hand remains against her shoulder, your thumb grazing the edge of the bandage. Silence stretches between you, comfortable yet charged with the unspoken things neither of you have said before. 

Finally, Rio speaks again, her voice quieter now. “You didn’t have to risk yourself like that.”

You meet her gaze, your heart pounding in your chest. “Of course I did. I couldn’t just leave you.”

Her eyes hold yours, steady and searching, and for the first time, you don’t feel the need to look away. Her lips part, and she leans in, testing the waters with a soft kiss. It’s gentle, hesitant, but when you don’t pull away, she deepens the kiss.

You feel the weight of everything unravelling between you. The kiss is slow at first, exploring, but then it quickly becomes urgent and heated. Hands roam, pushing past the boundaries of what had been comfortable before. You feel her press into you, her warmth seeping into your skin, making you forget everything but the two of you.

When you pull away, breathless, her eyes are dark with something more than desire. “I want something with you,” she whispers, “something real.”

You kiss her again, this time with no hesitation, pulling her closer, as if you could somehow make up for all the time you’ve spent pretending not to like her. You take your time, making sure to be gentle with Rio’s injury, always mindful of her shoulder. As you kiss, your hands are careful, exploring her without rushing. You help her undress slowly, checking in with her each time, making sure she’s comfortable.

She groans softly when your lips trace her jaw, your fingers grazing across the tender spots where her bandages are. You can feel the heat between you building, but you stop to kiss her forehead, your breath shaky as you say, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Rio’s eyes soften, her fingers threading through your hair. “You never could,” she murmurs, pulling you closer.

You take your time, letting the moment stretch, the room filling with soft breaths and the quiet rustle of fabric. Every movement is deliberate, every touch mindful of the vulnerability hanging in the air.

Your hands move to her good shoulder, slipping under the strap of her tank top. The fabric slides away easily, baring more of her to your gaze. She doesn’t flinch, her smirk fading into something softer, more open.

“You’re beautiful,” you murmur, the words slipping out before you can second-guess them.

Rio lets out a soft laugh, the sound shaky but genuine. “Flattery? You should’ve tried that six months ago.”

You grin, leaning in to kiss the edge of her smirk, letting your lips linger on her skin. “Shut up, Rio,” you whisper, your voice tinged with affection.

Her hand finds your waist, tugging you closer with surprising strength for someone who’d been shot hours ago. You go willingly, straddling her carefully as your lips reconnect, the kiss growing deeper. Heat coils in your chest, spreading outward as her touch becomes bolder, her fingers sliding under your shirt.

You break the kiss only long enough to pull your top over your head, tossing it aside before leaning back in. Her lips move to your neck, trailing kisses down to your collarbone, each one sending sparks through you. You gasp softly when her teeth graze your skin, her smirk returning against your neck.

“You like that?” She teases, her voice low and rough.

“Maybe,” you reply, breathless but playful. “What are you gonna do about it?”

Her answer is wordless, her good hand slipping down your back, finding every sensitive spot with ease. You shiver under her touch, your own hands exploring her, mapping the curve of her waist and the muscles of her back.

You’re careful not to put pressure on her injured shoulder, but Rio doesn’t seem to care about her pain. She pulls you closer, her body warm against yours, her breaths coming faster now.

You press your forehead to hers, your hands cupping her face. “Tell me if it’s too much,” you whisper, your voice thick with concern.

She shakes her head, her eyes blazing with determination. “The only thing too much is how long it took us to get here.”

Her words undo you, and you close the distance again, your kisses turning hungrier. You guide her gently back onto the bed, her good arm still wrapped around you as you settle over her. You continue your path down Rio’s body, lips pressing softly against every inch of skin you uncover. Your hands trail after your mouth, fingers tracing the delicate curve of her waist and the softness of her hips. Her body reacts to your touch, each shiver and soft gasp urging you on, drawing you deeper into the moment.

When your lips reach the hollow of her stomach, you pause, your hands resting on either side of her hips. You glance up at her, catching the way her chest rises and falls in anticipation, her hand gripping the sheets beneath her. The sight of her laid bare before you, trusting and vulnerable, sends a wave of warmth coursing through you. You press a kiss to her skin, just below her ribs, before continuing lower.

Your hands move carefully, sliding down her thighs, coaxing them apart with a gentle nudge. She complies without hesitation, her breath catching as you trail soft kisses along the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. You take your time, teasing, your mouth lingering just long enough to leave her trembling, her good hand reaching down to tangle in your hair.

“Please,” she murmurs, her voice breathy and full of need, and it’s all the encouragement you need.

You shift lower, your hands resting lightly on her thighs, holding her steady as your lips finally find her. The first touch is tentative and exploratory, but the way her body responds—back arching, a soft moan slipping from her lips—spurs you on. Your tongue moves slowly at first, drawing circles, learning what makes her gasp and writhe beneath you. You use your fingers to spread her gently, your movements precise and deliberate, ensuring every sensation is heightened.

Her reactions guide you, every sigh and breathless plea telling you exactly what she needs. When you slip a finger inside her, she tenses for a moment before relaxing, her body welcoming your touch. You match the rhythm of your hand to the movements of your tongue, building a steady pace that has her gripping the sheets tightly, her head tipping back as her moans grow louder.

Her body begins to tremble, her breathing ragged as she nears the edge. You don’t falter, your movements becoming more focused, more insistent, until she finally cries out, her body arching sharply as she shatters beneath you. You hold her through it, your hands steady on her thighs, your mouth gentle as you help her ride out the waves of her climax.

When she finally comes down, her body relaxes, her limbs heavy as she lies back against the bed, chest heaving. You crawl back up to her, pressing soft kisses along her stomach, her collarbone, and finally her lips. She kisses you back with a lazy, satisfied fervour, her hand cupping your cheek as if to keep you close.

You rest beside her, your fingers resting gently on her chest. The silence between you feels easy now, filled with something unspoken but understood. Rio tilts her head to meet your eyes; her smirk softened into something sincere.

“Didn’t know you had that in you,” she teases, her voice quiet but laced with affection.

You smirk back, brushing a stray hair from her face. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

“Guess I’ll have to stick around to find out.”

Her words linger in the air, heavy with promise, and for once, you don’t feel the need to deflect. You lean in, pressing a final kiss to her forehead as her eyes drift closed, exhaustion finally claiming her.

—

You wake to the faint light of dawn filtering through the curtains. Rio is still beside you, her face softened in sleep, her chest rising and falling steadily. You watch her for a moment, a quiet smile tugging at your lips before you carefully slip out of bed, pulling the blanket up over her.

The cabin’s kitchen is small, almost comically so, but you’re determined to make breakfast. You rummage through the limited supplies, finding eggs and a questionable loaf of bread. Cracking the eggs into a pan, you curse softly when some of the shell slips in. The stove sputters, and the toast burns on one side before you can flip it.

“Do you always declare war on breakfast?” Rio’s voice startles you, and you whip around to see her leaning against the doorframe, her arm still in its sling.

“Hey! You’re supposed to be resting,” you scold, pointing the spatula at her.

She raises an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth twitching into a smirk. “I’d rather take my chances with gunfire than whatever you’re cooking.”

You roll your eyes, turning back to the stove. “I’m making you breakfast, so sit down and let me work my magic.”

Rio pads over to the table, still smirking. “If this kills me, make sure they write ‘death by toast’ on my gravestone.”

“Har, har,” you mutter, but you can’t help the small laugh that escapes you. As you set the slightly overcooked meal in front of her, she looks up at you with an amused glint in her eyes.

“You’re really taking this whole ‘overprotective partner’ thing seriously, huh?” She teases, though her voice softens as she adds, “Not that I’m complaining.”

You sit across from her, leaning your chin on your hand. “Someone has to look out for you. You’re not exactly great at self-preservation.”

Rio smiles, a genuine warmth in her gaze that makes your chest ache. “I don’t mind it. Feels… nice. Safe.” Her fingers brush yours on the table, a small but deliberate gesture. “Guess I’m sticking around for more than just the breakfast disasters.”

Your laugh is soft, but your voice carries a tenderness you rarely let slip. “I’ll try not to burn the toast next time.”

“Don’t change too much,” Rio says, her smirk returning as she takes a bite of the slightly charred toast. “I kind of like you the way you are.”

Her words settle between you, light and teasing but laced with a sincerity that fills the room with warmth. For the first time, the future doesn’t feel like something to fear—it feels like something you might actually look forward to.

[gwens-love]

The Witch’s Bargain

Summary: On a journey led by Agatha, a haunting ballad promises power. When the ritual turns deadly, you remain the sole survivor.

Warnings: side character death, obsessive behavior (kinda but not really but still…?)

Word count: 1.7k

~Agatha Harkness x witch!reader~

Please don’t copy/steal or translate this work thanks

~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~

Here you stood ready for the future and it looked bright. You heard stories about the road about what it could give to people that made it to the end. Alas nobody ever did… well Agatha did but the others always died.

You were determined to make it, you and your little coven made out of your closest friends. The four of you and Agatha would start the journey tonight right before the sun disappeared behind the trees.

So you hiked to the place where she told you to be. Exited and with a tiny pep in your step, you weren’t nervous like the others, you needed an answer to your question, and you were going to get it.

After arriving you saw Agatha waiting. She was leaning on a three with a bell in her hand. She looked up and smirked, “You all know the song? If not… well then we’re going to have a problem.”

You looked back at your friends expectedly, when they gave you a nod you answered the woman in front of you, “Yes we know it.” You said with a shimmer of excitement in your eyes.

“Great, let’s begin then shall we?” Agatha started the song with the ringing of a bell. You were caught off guard by the sudden sound.. you weren’t expecting a bell, but you still took it as a sight to take your position in the circle.

You stood on the side of the formation, mindlessly singing the song that you knew by heart. You didn’t notice that it had ended until you saw your friends shooting their magic at Agatha.

You didn’t know what to do so you did what you thought was right and joined your friends.

One by one you saw there lifeless bodies fall, you tried to stop your magic but it wasn’t working, you couldn’t stop it.

So you closed your eyes and waited for the inevitable moment of death, but it didn’t come… you slowly opened your eyes to be met with the stunned ones of the only person left.

Agatha just stood there arms still open from taking your friends’ powers, “How?” you heard her silently whisper to herself. “You.. what did you do? Who are you? Why isn’t it working?” She yelled angrily.

You looked at the bodies of your friends taking a few steps back, but Agatha had other plans. “No, you don’t get to walk away, give me answers..!”

You took another step back, your eyes darting from Agatha’s intense gaze to the bodies of your friends, lying pale and still in the dirt. Every instinct screamed at you to run, to put as much distance as possible between yourself and this woman who had single handedly killed three other withes in just a few seconds.

But Agatha had other ideas. She strode toward you with a slow, purposeful step, eyes gleaming with an unsettling mix of curiosity and delight. There was no anger in her face anymore, no frustration at her failed attempt to drain your power. Instead, her expression was one of twisted fascination, like she had stumbled upon something more precious than she could have ever hoped for.

“Oh, little y/n,” she murmured, her voice soft but edged with something sharp and dangerous. “You have no idea how rare you are, do you?” Her eyes gleamed as she tilted her head, studying you from every angle. “Tell me, how does it feel to be the one who got away? The one I couldn’t break?”

You swallowed, feeling the press of her words as if they were claws scratching down your spine. “I… I don’t know why it didn’t work,” you managed, your voice trembling. “I don’t know what’s different about me.”

Agatha’s lips curled into a smirk, a spark of obsession flaring in her gaze. “Oh, I believe you. But that only makes this more fascinating, doesn’t it? I’m starting to think you don’t even understand the power you hold. But that’s alright, darling. I have all the time in the world to help you… discover it.”

She lifted her hand, fingers brushing the air between you both, close enough that you could feel the prickling heat of her magic. You flinched but held your ground, refusing to let her see the fear twisting in your chest.

“You’re scared,” she whispered, a laugh caught in her throat. “But there’s something else there too, isn’t there? Curiosity.” She leaned in, her face inches from yours, her voice dropping to a low, almost seductive murmur. “You want to know why I couldn’t take what I wanted from you. You want to understand what makes you different. Oh, y/n… you’re just as intrigued by me as I am by you.”

You clenched your fists, anger sparking in your gut. “I’m nothing like you.”

Her eyes flashed, and a wicked grin spread across her face. “Oh, but aren’t you?” She reached out, and before you could pull away, her fingers brushed your chin, forcing you to look into her eyes. “I can see it, you know. That fire in you, burning so bright and fierce. Power, unrestrained… yet somehow untouchable. Like a rare, precious gem.”

Her grip tightened, her thumb tracing a slow line along your jaw. “I could study you for years, y/n. Peel away every layer, uncover every secret.” Her voice softened to a whisper, her gaze darkening. “And I would never tire of it.”

Your stomach twisted, and you pulled free, backing away. But Agatha’s gaze stayed on you, unwavering, as if she could see right through you, see every thought, every weakness. The hunger in her eyes was as palpable as a knife pressed against your throat.

“You can’t run from this, y/n,” she said, a note of amusement lacing her tone. “From me. Whatever magic kept you safe tonight, it won’t protect you forever.” She gave a slow, mocking smile. “I’ll be there, in every shadow, waiting… watching. And when you finally come to me, when you beg to understand what makes you special…” She leaned closer, her breath warm against your cheek. “I’ll be there to take it all.”

The weight of her promise lingered in the air between you, and as she stepped back, her smile held a dark satisfaction, as if she’d already won. With a flick of her wrist, she vanished into the shadows, her laughter echoing in the clearing.

You were alone, surrounded by silence, the bodies of your friends lying still and cold around you. And yet, you felt her presence, the ghost of her touch, her words seeping into your mind like a poison. You had escaped her once, but as you looked down the dark, twisted path before you, you knew one thing with chilling certainty.

Agatha would never let you go. And, somehow, she knew that a part of you would never truly want her to.

You stood there, your heartbeat pounding in the silence, Agatha’s words lingering in the air like smoke. She’d vanished, but the weight of her promise pressed against your chest, inescapable, inevitable. The road ahead was dark, twisted with secrets you could barely begin to unravel on your own. And Agatha knew that. She knew exactly how badly you wanted to understand this strange power inside you—this magic she couldn’t steal, even though it had cost your friends their lives.

Her laughter echoed faintly in your memory, and as you closed your eyes, it was almost as though she was there, waiting, watching, just out of sight.

You took a breath, steadying yourself. Then, in a voice that barely rose above a whisper, you said, “Agatha.”

The shadows shifted, and in an instant, she was there again, emerging from the darkness as if she’d never left, her eyes glinting with anticipation. She folded her hands in front of her, looking at you with that same unsettling mixture of hunger and amusement, as though she’d been expecting this all along.

“Yes, darling?” she drawled, a smile curving her lips. “Changed your mind already?”

You swallowed, gathering your courage. “I… I want to know more about my power. About why you couldn’t take it from me.”

Her smile widened, but she waited, her silence drawing you further into her web.

“And you know things,” you continued, your voice steadier now. “You understand magic in ways I… can’t even begin to comprehend. If you teach me… if you show me everything you know… I’ll let you study me. You can try to figure out what makes me different.”

Agatha’s eyes lit up, her face glowing with delight as though you’d just handed her the world on a silver platter. She took a step closer, close enough that you could feel the pull of her presence, the way her very being seemed to draw you in, impossible to resist.

“Oh, little y/n,” she whispered, her voice dripping with satisfaction. “You and I are going to have so much fun together.”

You shivered as she reached out, her fingers grazing your cheek, her touch cold but electric, leaving a trail of tingling energy in its wake. “This will be our little… arrangement, then,” she murmured, eyes darkening with excitement. “You’ll let me study that precious power of yours. And in return, I’ll teach you everything I know every spell, every secret, every shadowed corner of magic that only I understand.”

Her smile grew sly, her hand drifting down to cup your chin, forcing you to meet her gaze. “But know this, y/n,” she said softly, her voice a dangerous purr. “Magic is a two-edged blade, and I don’t believe in half-truths. If you come to me, I’ll show you everything. The beauty and the darkness. The price of true power.”

You held her gaze, the fire in your chest flaring brighter, stronger, refusing to be dimmed. “That’s exactly what I want, Agatha,” you replied, your voice barely more than a whisper. “Show me everything.”

She chuckled, her laugh soft and deadly, and the sound of it sent a thrill through you, both thrilling and terrifying. Her grip softened, fingers lingering for just a second longer than necessary, as though savoring the touch.

“Good,” she whispered as she drew back, her eyes glinting with a mixture of triumph and anticipation, you knew there was no turning back. You’d made your choice, stepped willingly into her dark embrace. Whatever lay ahead… the secrets, the dangers, the dark allure of her magic, you would face it together, bound by a deal that neither of you would ever break.

And somewhere, deep down, you wondered if this was exactly where you were meant to be all along.

~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~<~>~

Fin <3

Taglist:@midnight-lestrange

[callitacurse]

eye contact with her would kill me

[a-timely-problem]

Rio: "I am death, I am the natural order, I am terrifying and inescapable!"

Agatha: "...you brought home a kitten BC it looked cold, babe"

Rio: "That's Mr. Horrible and he shall be my terrifying familiar!"

Agatha: "...he's purring and licking your face"

[marril96]

Marvel Studios: Assembled 2.09 | The Making of Agatha All Along

[d-z20]

Not Like Before (NSFW)

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Witch Reader

Summary: You and Agatha go on a date, and when you return home, the evening intensifies as you both get more turned on and you try a new experience.

- OR -

Agatha fucks you with the strap for the first time and its magical

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, established relationship, smut, top Agatha, enchanted strap, somewhat innocent reader, tiny bit of praise

Words: 2.7k

A/N: Requested fic :) In my head the strap is enchanted in the way she can cum from it being stimulated but like her orgasm is normal, not like gp orgasm if that makes sense?

AO3 | Master List

The night is alive with a quiet hum of energy. The small, upscale cocktail lounge you’ve chosen for tonight’s date thrums with an undercurrent of power that only those attuned to it can feel. It’s a haven for witches—neutral ground where enchantments and glamour are as commonplace as the expertly mixed drinks. The air shimmers faintly with unspoken spells and whispered charms, weaving through the soft candlelight that flickers on the polished wooden tables.

Agatha sits across from you, her presence as commanding as ever. Tonight, she is a vision of sharp elegance in a tailored black suit with a plunging neckline. Her hair is swept back into a sleek style, exposing her jawline and the glint of earrings that catch the dim light with every movement. She exudes control, a master of both her appearance and the simmering magic that radiates from her in subtle waves.

You’ve dressed to match her energy, knowing full well that anything less would pale beside her. Your outfit—a fitted, dark ensemble with just the right amount of daring to complement her sharp sophistication—keeps her eyes lingering on you just a moment too long every time she looks. Those glances, and the way her lips curl into a smirk as her gaze sweeps over you, leave your cheeks warm and your pulse racing.

The two of you play this game all evening. A brush of her fingers against yours as she hands you a drink. The faint spark of magic you send in response—a subtle flicker of warmth at her wrist that makes her eyebrow arch in interest. She teases you with her words, her tone low and syrupy, while you meet her challenge with coy smiles and the occasional playful hex—minor spells to warm her glass or dim the candlelight whenever her smirk grows too smug.

“You’re being particularly bold tonight,” she murmurs, leaning forward with her chin resting on her hand. Her blue eyes bore into yours, her lips curving into that slow, deliberate smile that twists your stomach in the best way.

“And you’re enjoying it,” you shoot back, your fingers tracing the rim of your glass idly. A soft pulse of magic flickers from your touch, making the ice cubes inside melt slightly faster than they should.

Agatha tilts her head, her smirk deepening. “Perhaps,” she allows, her voice rich with amusement. Under the table, her hand brushes up your thigh, the faint static of her magic dancing across your skin. “But don’t think I haven’t noticed your little tricks.”

Her words send a thrill down your spine, though you mask it well. “Oh, those?” you say casually, tilting your head as if bored. “Just keeping you on your toes.”

Her laugh is low and dangerous—the kind of laugh that makes your breath hitch. “Careful, darling,” she murmurs, brushing her thumb over your knuckles. “Keep this up, and I might forget to be gentle.”

The flicker of heat in her voice makes your control slip for just a moment. The candle on your table flares slightly before settling, its light casting flickering shadows that seem to dance to their own rhythm. Agatha notices, of course. She notices everything. Her smirk grows as she leans back in her chair, swirling her wine glass lazily as though savouring her victory.

The tension between you builds all night—an invisible thread pulling tighter with every lingering glance, every casual brush of magic exchanged between you. The air feels electric, charged with unspoken desire and the potent power both of you wield so effortlessly.

When the server comes by to ask if you want dessert, Agatha doesn’t even glance at the menu. “We’ll take whatever’s at the top of the list to go,” she says smoothly, standing with a grace that’s almost otherworldly. She extends a hand toward you, her lips curling into a wicked smile. “Shall we?”

—

The walk home is a blur. The cool night air does little to temper the heat between you, and every step feels like an eternity. You feel the subtle hum of her magic brushing against yours—a silent challenge you can’t help but answer with a flicker of your own. Her hand slides to the small of your back as she guides you up the steps to the door, and the moment you step over the threshold, all pretence of restraint vanishes.

As soon as the door clicks shut behind you, Agatha’s lips are on yours—hungry, urgent, filled with the fire she’s been stoking all night. You barely have time to gasp before she pushes you back, your spine hitting the wall with a soft thud as her hands pin yours above your head. Her kiss is relentless, her teeth grazing your bottom lip as her nails dig lightly into your wrists. Your knees weaken under the sheer force of her need.

“You’ve been driving me absolutely mad, teasing me, pushing me..." she growls against your lips, her voice rough and breathless. “Did you think I’d let your little games go unanswered? You should know me better than that.”

Before you can respond, she sweeps you into her arms with effortless strength and carries you toward the bedroom. You let out a startled sound as she tosses you onto the bed with surprising roughness, her smirk wicked as she towers over you. Her magic swirls in the air, palpable and electric, making the hairs on your arms stand on end. The fire in her eyes sends a thrill racing through your body.

Agatha wastes no time. With a wave of her hand, your clothes begin to peel away, each piece tugged free with deliberate precision. The fabric slides off your skin as though it has a mind of its own, her magic coaxing and caressing every inch of you it touches. You shiver under the sensation, your breath hitching as her power leaves you bare before her. Her smirk deepens as her eyes rake over you, dark with desire and satisfaction.

“You look absolutely devine like this,” she murmurs, her voice thick with lust. Her hand grazes your cheek, but there’s nothing gentle about the way her magic wraps around you—tight, commanding, and impossible to resist. “Completely at my mercy.”

She climbs onto the bed with the grace of a predator, straddling you as her hands press firmly against your shoulders. Her lips crash down onto yours with a ferocity that leaves you breathless, her teeth scraping against your skin as her nails rake down your arms. The soft flicker of her magic tingles where her hands don’t reach, adding an intoxicating edge to every touch.

You arch beneath her, your own magic surging in response, flickering like fire across her back as your hands grip her waist. She lets out a low, guttural sound that sends heat straight to your core, her lips trailing from your mouth to your jaw, then down to your neck. Her teeth nip at the sensitive skin there, and the faint spark of her magic sears against you, making you gasp and clutch her tighter.

“Getting bold again, are we?” She teases, her voice breathless but dripping with amusement as she presses her weight into you, pinning you firmly to the bed.

You barely manage a breathless laugh, your lips brushing against hers as you whisper, “Would you want it any other way?”

Her answering growl is all the warning you get before her lips claim yours again, and the world dissolves into a blur of heat, power, and the relentless pull of her touch. Every brush of Agatha’s lips against yours setting off sparks that race down your spine. Her hands roam freely now, trailing from your shoulders to your sides, exploring every curve and hollow with a possessive kind of hunger. Her lips find your neck again, and the sharp scrape of her teeth leaves you gasping, your fingers tangling in her hair to pull her closer.

“Such a tease,” she murmurs, her voice low and dripping with amusement. Her hands slide lower, her touch firm and deliberate, and the heat pooling in your core intensifies. You shiver as her fingertips trail over your thighs, brushing teasingly close to where you crave her most. When her hand finally cups you, the gasp that escapes your lips is enough to make her smirk against your skin.

Agatha doesn’t stop. Her fingers press just right, her magic thrumming faintly against you, adding an intoxicating edge to her touch. Your breaths come faster, your body arching into her as her lips return to yours in a kiss so heated it leaves you dizzy. She pulls back, hovering above you, her lips curled into a smug, satisfied smile as she brushes stray strands of hair from your face. Her own breathing is ragged; her normally pristine control frayed at the edges in a way that makes her look even more devastatingly beautiful.

You barely manage to form words between pants. "I... I want more tonight. I need more.”

Her eyes darken at your admission, a flicker of surprise mingling with the raw desire that’s already written across her face. She leans in closer, her lips ghosting over yours as she whispers, “Are you sure?” Her tone is soft, but the hunger beneath it is unmistakable. She’s been holding back, waiting until you were ready, but it’s clear how much she wants this.

Rather than answering with words, you pull her into another heated kiss, pouring every ounce of need and certainty into it. Her lips crush against yours, her hands sliding up your body as the kiss deepens, growing more fervent by the second. She groans into your mouth when your own hands begin to explore, trailing down her sides with deliberate curiosity. When your fingers brush between her legs and find a firm bulge beneath the fabric of her suit pants, you freeze.

Your wide-eyed gaze snaps to hers, startled by what you hadn’t expected. She pulls back slightly, her smirk widening as she takes in your reaction, her eyes glittering with amusement and pride. “Did you think I’d wait to put it on after the way you just kissed me?” She teases, her voice low and sultry.

“Oh,” you breathe, momentarily lost for words, “I love magic.”. Then curiosity takes over, your hand exploring the unfamiliar sensation, gently pressing and teasing. The way Agatha’s lips part, a soft moan escaping, sends a thrill through you. Her hips twitch under your touch, and it clicks—you realise she can feel everything.

Her moans grow sharper as your hand strokes the bulge through her pants, and her forehead falls to yours, her breath hot and uneven. “You’re playing a dangerous game, darling,” she groans, her voice trembling with restraint.

You smirk, feeling emboldened by the way she’s unravelling under your touch. “I really, really love magic,” you murmur, your tone dripping with mischief.

Her answering laugh is low and guttural, a sound that sends heat racing through your veins. “You’re going to be the death of me,” she growls, capturing your lips in another searing kiss, her magic sparking faintly against your skin as her control slips.

When she finally pulls away, you’re left breathless, your skin burning with anticipation as she leans back and stands. Her eyes never leave yours; the promise in them is enough to make your pulse race. With a deliberate flick of her wrist, she clicks her fingers, and in an instant, her body is engulfed in a swirling haze of purple smoke. It lingers for only a heartbeat before dissipating, leaving her standing before you completely bare—except for the deep violet strap now secured to her hips.

“Ready for more?” She asks, her voice low and velvet-smooth, a dangerous smirk playing on her lips as she steps toward you.

You nod, your breath catching as she climbs back onto the bed. Her hands glide over your thighs, parting them gently as she settles between your legs. The heat of her body against yours is electrifying, her magic humming faintly where her skin brushes yours.

Agatha’s hands find your hips, her grip firm yet tender as she lines herself up with practiced precision. Her gaze meets yours, her smirk softening into something darker, more intimate. “Tell me if it’s too much,” she murmurs, her voice a low purr.

Her fingers dig slightly into your hips, holding you steady as she takes her time, letting the anticipation build as her body moves closer to yours. Agatha’s gaze never wavers as she presses forward, her movements slow and deliberate, giving you all the time you need to adjust. The initial stretch draws a gasp from your lips, and her grip on your hips tightens, grounding you with her steady touch. “That’s it,” she murmurs, her voice low and soothing despite the obvious strain in it. “You’re doing so well.”

Her pace remains measured, her hips rocking in shallow, careful movements. Each thrust sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, and you feel the tension in her body as she fights to hold back, letting you catch your breath and find your rhythm.

But restraint has never been Agatha’s strong suit—not when it comes to you. It doesn’t take long before the careful control begins to slip. Your legs wrap around her waist, pulling her closer and urging her on with breathless gasps and moans that spur her to move faster, deeper, and harder. The moment she senses you’re ready for more, any pretence of caution vanishes.

“Fuck, doll, you’re perfect,” she growls, her voice rough and thick with desire. Her hips snap against yours with a growing urgency, and the world dissolves into a blur of heat and movement. The bed creaks beneath you, the sound mixing with the symphony of gasps, moans, and her ragged breaths in your ear.

Her name tumbles from your lips like a prayer, and Agatha responds with a low, guttural sound, burying her face in the curve of your neck as she drives you higher. Her teeth graze your skin, her nails pressing into your thighs, and every thrust sends sparks racing down your spine. You lose yourself in her—her strength, her heat, the raw passion she pours into every movement.

“God,” she groans, her voice heavy with awe and lust. “You feel… incredible.”

Her pace grows erratic, and she moves like a woman possessed, each thrust pushing you closer and closer to the edge. When your hands clutch at her shoulders, your nails dragging across her back, she lets out a sharp gasp, her hips stuttering for a brief moment before resuming with even more intensity.

You can feel her magic surging, wild and untamed, spilling over in waves that leave you breathless. It’s all-consuming, pulling you under like a riptide. When the climax crashes over you, it’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced—a white-hot explosion of pleasure that leaves you shaking beneath her, her name a broken cry on your lips.

Agatha follows moments later, her hips slowing as her head falls to your shoulder, her breath hot and uneven against your skin. For a long moment, the two of you stay like that, tangled together, the room filled with nothing but the sound of your ragged breathing.

When she finally lifts her head, her lips curl into a satisfied smirk as she brushes a strand of hair from your damp forehead. “I told you teasing me was dangerous,” she murmurs, her voice soft but full of smug amusement.

You laugh weakly, your hands still clutching her waist as you try to catch your breath. “And I’d do it all over again.”

Her laugh is low and rich, and she leans down to press a lingering kiss to your lips, her movements now gentle and languid. “Careful, darling,” she purrs, her magic flickering faintly in her fingertips as they trace lazy patterns on your hip. “I’m far from done with you.”

With a sly smirk, she leans back, her fingers snapping once more. The faint glow of purple magic surrounds her, and in an instant, the strap is gone, replaced by an effortlessly regal floral robe that shimmers like liquid starlight. She stretches lazily, her eyes glinting with mischief as she looks down at you.

“Rest while you can,” she murmurs, her tone laced with promise. “We’ve got a long night ahead.”

[d-z20]

Saved from the Dark

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Reader

Summary: You get kidnapped and tortured by witch hunters, but luckily Agatha has a soft spot for you and will not rest until you are safe in her arms again.

-OR-

Agatha is a bad bitch on a mission to save you (and then play nursemaid)

Warnings: dark fic, violence, kidnap, torture, death, hurt, comfort

Words: 2.2k

A/N: The witch hunter's magic is more of a Dr Strange type beat in this if you get me. Read the request that inspired this :)

AO3 | Masterlist

You hadn’t seen it coming. You never expected them to be so efficient and precise in their attack. One moment, you were gathering herbs in the quiet part of the city, lost in the tranquillity of the night, and the next, you were surrounded. The witch hunters had been tracking you for weeks, and now they were closing in. Before you could react, they were upon you, using both magic and technology to bind you. Their enchanted restraints sapped your energy, stripping you of your powers and leaving you vulnerable. No amount of magical strength could help you now. They overpowered you with force, shoving you into a van, and darkness swallowed you whole.

Agatha Harkness had always lived in the shadows, watching the world unfold from a distance. Her magic was vast, her knowledge unparalleled, but she preferred to remain hidden. She had her reasons—trust wasn’t something she gave lightly, especially not in a world that feared and hunted witches. But then there was you. You were different. You had a kindness about you, an openness that Agatha couldn’t help but be drawn to. Despite her usual detachment, she found herself watching over you, protecting you in subtle ways. You and your magic were the complete opposite of her: gentle and compassionate. Agatha could never let anyone harm you.

When the witch hunters began to make their presence known, Agatha was wary but confident in her own ability to stay undetected. She had lived too long and become too powerful to be caught. But when you failed to come back after your usual late-night walk through the city, Agatha felt a strange sense of unease gnawing at her. Her instinct was always right. Something was wrong.

—

The first thing you become aware of is the sharp, aching pain in your head. It feels as if the world is spinning, though you can’t tell if it’s your body or the room itself that’s unsteady. You’re lying on a cold, metal floor, your arms chained to the wall. The weight of the cuffs around your wrists makes it hard to move, the magical inhibitors in them pulling away your ability to summon even the smallest spark of power. You breathe through the nausea, forcing yourself to focus on one thought: Agatha will find you. Agatha always finds you.

But the darkness around you presses in, suffocating and endless, until a voice cuts through it.

“You think you’re untouchable, don’t you?” A man sneers. His voice is cruel, heavy with derision. “Running around with your magic like you’re something special. But look at you now—trapped. Helpless. Powerless.”

His words sting, but you don’t respond. You can’t. You feel his footsteps approach, his presence looming over you like a stormcloud.

The first blow comes without warning. A punch lands squarely on your face, making your head snap back. The jarring sound of a chair scraping against the concrete floor grates in your ears as another figure steps closer.

“Tell us what we want to know,” someone else demands, their tone sharp and impatient.

You grit your teeth, ignoring the sharp sting spreading across your cheek. I won’t tell them anything. You repeat the thought like a mantra, clinging to it as they strike you again, this time a vicious kick to your ribs. The pain ripples through your body, but you refuse to cry out.

Then they escalate. Rough hands grab you, their grip bruising, and a sharp needle pierces your skin. Icy pain radiates from the injection site, making you shudder as the potion floods your veins. It burns, cruel and unrelenting, designed to strip you of strength and magic while forcing you to remain awake and aware.

“Let’s see how long you last,” one of them jeers.

—

They force you to stand for hours, your legs trembling, the chains biting into your wrists. Every muscle screams for relief, but you refuse to give them the satisfaction of your screams. When they press a glowing sigil in front of your face, its blinding light sears your vision, disorienting you and leaving your thoughts muddled. 

Each hour blurs into the next. The pain is unpredictable and deliberate. They are methodical, breaking you piece by piece. They demand names and locations—anything that could give them power over the witch community—but you remain silent. The only thing keeping you going is the thought of Agatha.

When you still refuse to answer, they change tactics.

They drag you to a machine humming faintly with unnatural energy. The cold metal is laced with glowing runes and wires that pulse like a heartbeat. You try to pull away, but they force your hands into place, clipping small, sparking devices onto your fingertips.

The moment the circuit completes, searing pain shoots through you. The machine vibrates, drawing the essence of your magic from your body. The sensation is unbearable—burning and crackling as if your veins themselves are being syphoned dry.

“You feel that?” one of the hunters taunts, his voice dripping with malice. “That’s your power. You’re nothing without it.”

They twist knobs and flick switches, each adjustment sending fresh waves of agony through your body. It’s more than pain; it feels like they’re tearing away a part of your soul, unravelling the very threads of your identity.

“You’re pathetic,” another spits. “All that power, and it can’t save you.”

The world becomes a fog of pain and confusion, but you cling to the hope that Agatha will come. She has to.

—

Agatha moves through the shadows with precision, her anger burning hotter with every step. She had been tracking the faint echoes of your magic for hours, each pulse weaker than the last. The hunters were clever, masking their trail with layers of enchantments and misdirection, but Agatha was older and far more powerful. She unravelled their spells one by one, her determination unrelenting. When she finally found the building—a run-down warehouse cloaked in wards meant to deter magical detection—she didn’t hesitate. The faint flicker of your magic inside made her breath hitch. I’ve got you, she thought. Hold on just a little longer.

Her entrance is swift and deadly. The first guard falls without a sound, a flash of purple light dissolving him into nothingness. Another tries to raise the alarm, but she silences him with a wave of her hand. There’s no room for hesitation, no space for mercy.

She finally reaches the room they’re keeping you in and stops in the doorway, her breath catching. You’re lying on the floor, still connected to the machine, your body slack, your face pale and lifeless. The wires pulse with what remains of your magic, twisting it into something unrecognisable. The sight sends a cold fury surging through her veins.

From the shadows behind you, the hunters emerge, their eyes gleaming with malice. “Well, well, if we’d known this was all it took to lure the great Agatha Harkness, we’d have done it years ago,” one of them sneers.

Agatha’s voice is low and dangerous. “You shouldn’t have touched Y/N.”

The fight is brutal. Agatha moves like a force of nature, her magic slamming into the hunters with a ferocity she rarely shows. One by one, they fall, her anger giving her no room for restraint. “You dared to hurt them?” she shouts, her voice echoing as she sends a hunter crashing into the wall. Another disintegrates in a flash of violet light as she hurls a spell with deadly precision. Her fury is as unstoppable as it is justified, every attack laced with her rage and anguish.

—

The room is quiet now, save for the hum of the machine still feeding on your magic. Agatha rushes to your side, her hands trembling as she frees you from the clips and chains. You slump into her arms, your body too weak to hold itself up.

“Sweetheart, look at me,” she murmurs, her voice soft but urgent. Her hands cup your face, brushing away strands of hair. Your eyes flutter open, hazy but still searching for hers.

“Agatha…” Your voice is faint, but it’s enough to break her.

She lifts you into her arms with ease, holding you close. “I’m so sorry, my love,” she whispers, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I should have been here sooner.”

“It’s okay,” you rasp. “You found me. That’s enough.”

Agatha’s lips tremble as she smiles, her protective instincts taking over. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

—

The moment the two of you cross the threshold of your shared home, the adrenaline that has kept you upright vanishes. Your knees buckle, but Agatha is there, her strong arms catching you before you hit the floor. She doesn’t say a word, just holds you close, her cheek resting against the top of your head. After a moment, she whispers, “Come, darling. Let me take care of you.”

She leads you to the bathroom, her hand steady on the small of your back, guiding you as if you might drift away. The familiar space, once a refuge of routine, now feels foreign in your state of exhaustion. Agatha waves a hand, and the bathtub fills itself, the water shimmering faintly with a soft healing magic.

Agatha helps you sit on the edge of the tub, her movements slow and deliberate as she begins undressing you from your torn, bloodied clothing. You flinch when her fingers brush against a bruise on your arm, and she freezes, her eyes searching yours with worry. “I’m sorry, my love. I’ll be gentle,” she murmurs, her voice soft as a caress.

When you’re finally settled in the warm water, it takes a moment for your body to adjust. The heat seeps into your muscles, loosening the tension, though your heart still races from the memory of what you’ve endured. Agatha kneels beside the tub, dipping a soft cloth into the water before running it over your skin. Her touch is featherlight, avoiding every cut and bruise with care.

She works in silence at first, her focus entirely on you, but then she begins to hum—a soothing, lilting melody you’ve never heard before but feel as though it has always been a part of you. Her voice wraps around you like a blanket, grounding you as she gently cleans the grime and dried blood from your body. Every now and then, she whispers words of reassurance. “You’re safe now. I’ve got you. No one will hurt you again.”

As Agatha reaches your hands, brushing the cloth over the tender, raw skin where the chains had bitten into you, something inside you breaks. Tears well in your eyes, spilling over before you can stop them. Your shoulders begin to shake, and you let out a choked sob, burying your face in your hands.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, your voice thick with shame. “I should’ve been stronger, but I couldn’t—I just—”

“Shh, no,” Agatha interrupts gently, setting the cloth aside and leaning over the edge of the tub to pull you into her arms. The water soaks her sleeves, but she doesn’t seem to care. “You were strong,” she murmurs, her lips brushing against your temple. “You survived, sweetheart. That’s all that matters.”

You cling to her, your tears soaking into her shirt as sobs wrack your body. Every emotion you’ve bottled up—fear, pain, helplessness—pours out of you in a torrent. Agatha holds you through it all, her hands stroking your hair and trailing soothing patterns down your back.

“It’s over now,” she whispers. “You don’t have to hold it together anymore. I’m here, my love. I’ll always be here.”

Her words are an anchor, grounding you as the storm inside you begins to subside. The safety of her embrace makes the world feel bearable again, even if only for a moment.

—

After the bath, Agatha wraps you in the softest robe you own, bundling you up like she’s shielding you from the world. She carries you to your shared bedroom, settling you onto the bed as if you’re the most fragile thing in existence.

She climbs in beside you without hesitation, pulling you into her arms and tucking the blankets around both of you. Her warmth surrounds you, her heartbeat steady against your ear. “Close your eyes, darling,” she murmurs, her voice like honey. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You let yourself relax against her, the exhaustion finally catching up with you. Just as you begin to drift off, you hear her humming again, the same soothing melody from before. It wraps around you like a spell, lulling you further into sleep.

“I’ll keep you safe,” she whispers, her lips brushing against your forehead. “No one will ever hurt you again. You’re mine to protect.”

Her words stay with you as sleep pulls you under, the fear and pain replaced by the comfort of her love. Even as your consciousness fades, you feel her hand stroking your hair, her presence anchoring you to the safety of home.

[agaythario]

Agatha "girlfriend material" Harkness (featuring...hands) (4/?) — AGATHA ALL ALONG

[lowkeyerror]

Y/n: So... you're a powerful witch trying to steal power from a SUPER powerful witch for your own benefit?

Agatha: Exactly hun

Y/n: That's so hot

[lowkeyerror]

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

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.