Pretty Purple Witch @prettypurplewitch - Tumblr Blog

prettypurplewitch

Jul 5

prettypurplewitch

Early Riser Part 22

CEO Agatha Harkness x Reader Rich Boss x Submissive Assistant AU

Other parts & Tip jar & ao3

Word count: just under 12k

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, power dynamics, toxic relationship, d/s dynamics, absurd mean sugar mommy behavior, Agatha is emotionally constipated but trying, degradation, panic attack, corruption, murder confession, crimes confessed during sex, bootlicking, pleading. spanking with a ruler and a crop, walking on leashes and collars, fucking machines, ejaculating dildo, face slapping, crying, anal sex mentioned, vomiting mentioned briefly right at the end but as a joke, she's not nice but she's also nice, fluff and cuddles.

For a second the sinful thought that you may exist soley to be both hurt and cared for by Agatha Harkness crosses your mind.

It was gravel, the surface of the island. Vast amounts of thin grey gravel. Almost like a rocky beach around the entire surface, or the surface you've seen so far.

You still haven't had the chance to explore, but the day is young.

When Agatha asked if you wanted to go for a walk with her, you being ten paces behind her while she talks on her phone was somehow not what you had expected.

You're patient of course. Maybe too patient. Looking around as you follow her. A small dock sits next to a boathouse, the helipad you arrived on just a stones throw away from it. It's easier to navigate with context.

The breeze is fresh and salty as you balance on some large rocks, every beat of the water sending a chill over your legs, only a little covered by your underwear and the company branded t-shirt.

At least the sun is out.

As much as you miss the softness of the towel robe, the employee shirt feels almost as good. Her name printed on your chest in the same way. Maybe everything you wear should have her name on it. Maybe it should be carved into your skin forever.

Despite everything, the chaos and the cuddles, Agatha seems unusually calm. Her beige robe snug to her body as she talks quietly into her phone. Quietly. Not Agatha quietly. Really genuinely quietly.

It's almost more terrifying than the yelling. She's resolving this, and today you're going to get your answers. You aren't sure how yet, but she cannot run from you. Not here. Not after last night and not when you're both this isolated, you haven't even spotted a single staff member despite knowing they must be around here somewhere.

There's no way Agatha is taking care of herself entirely, and there's certainly no way she doesn't have security here.

Your eyes catch the horizon, watching the water calm down a little, hitting the shore. The cloudless sky burns your eyes a little as you squint to spot a boat in the distance. Perhaps the security have those massive photography lenses to keep you safe. Or maybe they have some kind of tiny security hut somewhere.

You could look for it later, but as you move across the rocks and onto the grass, you're more interested in finding Agatha's other rooms.

The lawn is vast, with trees dotted around large concrete sculptures. A woman. A cube. What looks like a candle. It's hard to see the theme here. The large house situated in the centre, and a couple of smaller cobblestone style buildings around the outside of it. Shrouded amongst the trees.

Agatha stops and turns for a moment to see how far away you are, smirking as you follow her aimlessly. Pretending this is some kind of romantic walk. If you'd decided to date one of your co-workers, would you be in central park with a hotdog right now?

Would you still be thinking about Agatha?

She holds the phone in front of her face and back to her ear before she continues at the same pace, hair trailing down her back as she turns away from you.

"Well we have to do something."

Her tone is still hushed, and you're surprised she can even get signal out here because you certainly can not. She probably owns the satellites. Asking for the wifi or a charger seems borderline stupid under the circumstances, but at least there's nobody you need to contact.

Everything you need is a few feet away from you scoffing into her iPhone.

The strain of trying to eavesdrop almost hurts, but although you're determined to fully trust Agatha, you're not entirely sure she'd tell you the truth right now. Unsure after last night whether it's because she's secretive, or she's worried she'll scare you off.

Her hands flex as she walks, resolving the issue in a way that sounds methodical. Your eyes fall to them as they so often do, the way the veins under her skin move as she cracks each knuckle with her thumb. The hands that have caused incomprehensible amounts of damage you don't yet understand.

The hands that held you softly last night.

Falling asleep in her arms felt like a vibrant dream despite it being too warm. Despite her snores and her hair tangling under you. Feeling the way her chest moved as her breathing became deeper, the small twitches in her hands as she began falling into a sleep you wish you could follow her into. Dreams you'd want to explore to understand her further. Waiting patiently for when you'd wake up next to her again.

But Agatha wasn't there when you opened your eyes, leading you to wonder whether she was already busy working or had taken her own interview lies seriously and had began morning podcasts.

When she came back a few minutes later with a cup of coffee, she explained she doesn't have any syrups or sugar so she had melted part of a candy bar into the liquid.

Feeling a surge of cute aggression when she stumbled over her words trying to explain to you how she had tried to flavor it for you, you decided not to tell her that the coffee was mostly lumpy and left a weird trail on your tongue.

You would have a million more lumpy coffees.

Your feet stop when hers do, remaining a little further behind her as to not throw her off. You can't hear what she's saying. You shouldn't snoop, you really shouldn't. But you do want those answers. This is the perfect opportunity to really understand who you're sleeping next to at night. Maybe you'd be more naive not to.

She begins the walk again before you can flex your ears enough to convince yourself you can hear better.

The boat house sits in view with the doors closed. Almost too quiet as the water gently hits the side of the dock. There must usually be staff here. Surely somebody would work in this building, at Wanda's island there was, what was there again...?

You try and picture the island, the boats, the firepit—

Suddenly your chest pangs with an unusual pain, coldness seeping in your throat, hands shaking as you freeze in place.

It dawns on you, you can't breathe.

Wanda's island, the games, the conversation. The pressure. The manipulation you'd been blind to until it was too late and you'd been used for entertainment by somebody you thought you could trust. And now you're trapped here with the very same person. Nobody around to save you. No boat to retreat to.

Agatha Harkness could do anything she wanted to you here.

You think back to her words last night, when you told her you didn't care. You don't care. Not really. You know her, even if she thinks you don't. Even if there's much more to learn. You know she's good to you.

You know she wouldn't hurt you. You don't know what she's running from.

It's the unknown. It's the fact that no matter what she tells you, it's never what you need to hear. Agatha is an excellent manipulator, an even better liar and could be spinning a gigantic web of tricks to trap you alone here with her.

Is that an awful thought to have?

"Everything they say about me is true, you know that, right?"

Clarity hits you like a train, feelings you'd been ignoring. Pushing down because of the money, the security, the adventures and the curve of her lips.

Are you really safe here?

But she apologized. She got on her knees and begged for forgiveness.

And you'd bet begging isn't something she's done before.

Your heartbeat thuds in your chest as Agatha turns to look at you, significantly further away from her. You'd stopped moving entirely you suppose.

Your eyes have glazed over, she notices immediately as you stare off at the water. The burn of the phantom fire pit in your lungs.

"Didn't realize you were into astronomy. You know with the spacing out."

You say nothing. Are you going to pass out?

Agatha is hanging up the phone without another word as she rushes for you.

"Woah. Hon you okay?"

When she reaches for you, the flinch that happens is entirely accidental. The tips of her fingers grazing your arm, the blues of her eyes dripping with concern, squinting a little from the sun.

"What's happening? Hey. Talk to me."

For a second all you crave is the comfort of her arms, but your body is fighting your brain. The same ruminating thought. Is this the person who melted a KitKat in your coffee this morning or the person talking down to you in front of her friends with whiskey on her breath?

Her hands are on your shoulders before you can decide.

“Sweetheart look at me.”

The phone is nowhere to be seen, shoved away so she can focus on you in your entirety. Her face free of makeup, the frown lines between her eyebrows deep as she studies your face with intention.

The warmth of her fingers settles across your skin, grounding you as your eyes get lost inside of hers. She looks different than you picture her when she's sitting at her desk. Her hair a little longer, a little more frazzled. Grays where her parting sits. Dark stray eyebrow hairs out of place.

Agatha’s been so focused on you, on this, she hasn’t been making enough time for herself.

“I’m sorry I–" you wobble as you try to take a step forward, her hands trying to keep you still.

“You’re alright. You’re okay.” The softness in the voice you’ve heard in a hundred different tones. “Do you need a glass of water?”

“No. I’m okay.”

Are you? You shake your head like you're trying to throw the thoughts away.

"Breathe."

You breathe, it feels weak.

"Again, come on spacegirl, breathe." You follow her instructions, a deep breath. She isn't great at breathing exercises, but the reminder to breathe is always nice and your body finally starts to function normally, besides the pressing question that falls too fast out of your throat...

“Agatha what are we doing here?”

Her hands fly off of you, clenching by her sides as she processes your question, the pale blue of her eyes hide her emotions as best as she’s able to. “Well we’re on a walk, silly.” Her head shakes, but her voice does a little too.

Not what you meant.

“Although…” she starts up again, checking you over to make sure you’re present “…I should really be making you do some paperwork.”

Your lip quivers as it forms a pout you didn’t intend to make. “Why?” But the work distraction does what it needs to do, and you’re able to take another step forward, and another as Agatha follows you slowly, phone still in the pocket of the robe. It flows slightly in the breeze as you look back at her. "Let me follow you around."

She cackles as the discomfort settles and you're back to feeling yourself. Thank god.

“You have some nerve. I’m your boss.”

You blink. “I work really hard.”

"I just need—" she's cut off when a particularly chilly gust of wind throws her hair all over her face, grabbing at it seems harder than it should be and on the third attempt at moving it away she's finally able to see you again. "—well I need to go inside first of all."

You stifle your laughter when even after you stop it happens again, sticking a little to her lip. "Oh my god I hate being outdoors."

Agatha takes a quick turn, heading towards the buildings making up the island. With a small jog, you're able to catch up to her as she power walks away from her sworn enemy, nature.

She marches towards beautiful lawns and beaches and away from the rocky shore. Of all the picturesque places you can spot it's odd she'd come over here for a morning walk. Unless it's the only place with signal.

"If you get some work done, you'll get a reward. How does that sound, hm?"

Your ears perk up at the promise of a reward, scrubbing the past reservations clean entirely.

"Really?"

"Really."

"What's the reward?"

The building you're being guided towards is glass with floor to ceiling windows. It doesn't really match the rest of the buildings, to be honest it looks a little out of place. It seems like it's been added much more recently. Fountains surrounding it on freshly cut grass and a soft, winding path.

Agatha stands in front of the transparent doors, adjusting the belt on the robe. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure you're sure? You moved away when I touched you." Her hand reaches out to stroke your cheek with the back of her hand almost like a test, harsh knuckles on soft skin. You relax into it without another thought.

"I'm sure. I was just in my head...."

"You tell me if something is wrong, okay?"

You nod and despite her annoyance at wordless answers, she allows it.

For a second it's easy to forget you're on a private island. Tilting your head in confusion when Agatha swings the door open without a key and stepping inside to what is essentially a smaller version of her office at the headquarters.

A large and unusually tidy wooden desk, with a plush wheeled chair, an antique globe mini-bar and an armchair that looks untouched.

"I have the Samson papers ready to be signed, I need you to make copies of the statistics so we can compare them to the previous year. Understand?"

Do you understand? You feel like you're on the verge of a tantrum. A private island all alone and you're writing data?

But you nod your head anyway. This isn't a real vacation, it's not a business trip. It's basically a remote workday, and Agatha has already taken so many liberties with allowing you to slack off. You're basically being paid to sleep in her bed at this point.

Should that thought scare you instead of arouse you? Aren't you smart and competent?

Agatha's sifting through the desk to grab two stacks of papers and her MacBook. Heavy-handedly slamming everything onto the table with an eyebrow raised.

Your hands loose by your sides as you stand a little awkwardly in the entryway.

"Now..." she starts, hips swaying as she meets you where you're lingering. "...I'm going to get dressed into something more appropriate for work."

Your eyes scan the robe clinging to her body. She looks soft and you're lost in the domesticity of seeing her like this you hardly notice when she grabs your chin firm between her fingers, tilting your head to the side so she can whisper into your ear. Breath warm and words slow, the sound of her throat as she swallows.

"And when I get back—" a chuckle, and maybe this isn't about the work anymore, your heart fights with your ribs under the employee shirt "—you'll be wearing nothing at all."

Saliva bobs in your throat as you swallow.

You are certainly okay now.

"Yes, Ms Harkne—" You catch yourself immediately, this office space clouding your brain. "—I mean..."

"See you in five, hon." A quick wink.

She doesn't look back and you try not to think about the mess of this situation, running your hands across your face where her own fingers just were.

You don't strip. Not right away. Taking in the room a little more, and more importantly what's outside of the room. The grass, the trees, the fountain and just further down the path, the water. This is private, but there must be security or staff. Couldn't anybody just wander onto the shore? Truthfully you have no real idea on how any of this works, but Agatha's entirely missing from your view and it's only a matter of time before she returns.

And you should be getting undressed, but your eyes dart to the desk and the secrets it contains.

Agatha has been alone here for a few days, she consistently has everything open on her laptop home screen. The thing sounds like a jet taking off despite being the most expensive model.

Just a peek wouldn't hurt, right?

You could take one look, see if she has an email open. Or a text from security. Just to know who that man is. Why you're here. How much trouble she's really in. Just something. Anything. To know the woman who kisses you at night.

Should you be snooping though? What if she catches you?

Hm. Agatha wears things with buttons. She might be at least a few minutes. And it wouldn't change anything, would it? You said you didn't care. How bad could it be?

It's worse to not know. Then it could be anything.

With a breath not deep enough to make you feel better, you pull open the lid of the laptop. The screensaver of New York at night runs on a loop as you stare at the password box.

This was a stupid idea. This is a stupid idea. Her profile photo taunts you, a headshot from a newspaper maybe ten years ago. Fuck. What would her password be?

You should just get up and do what you're told.

"H4RKN3SS" shot in the dark, license plate. Error message.

"Bordeaux" more personal. Error message.

How many tries do you have left? Agatha is probably putting on slacks, it's fine. Would she make it something personal or professional? Would it have any meaning whatsoever?

You should just strip now before it's too late. Maybe she'll tell you when she's ready.

But what if it's something insane, like the mob?

If Agatha was in the mob you'd know.

Oh my god would you still be with her if she were in the mob?

Well now you need to know.

Then it occurs to you, Agatha Harkness is fifty years old and uses her iPhone with one aggressive pointer finger.

You pull the drawer open, a black notebook sits on top. A slight moment of hesitation for a second before you're already too deep into this. You have to know something, anything.

Turning over the first page:

"ADMIN PASSWORDS:"

Bingo.

Subscription services. Banks with the passwords crossed out, likely from her exhausted security team. Apps.

Then midway through the page: "LAPTOP - SCR4TCHY"

You don't register what it means as you're typing it into the computer.

It unlocks on the first try which feels objectively worse than if it had failed and you'd given up. The windows all open at once. The internet open in so many tabs none of them are readable. Her text messages in the left hand corner and fuck you forgot this syncs to her phone.

You're in too deep, what are you doing?

What are you doing if not glancing just a little at the open phone conversations..?

What look like a bunch of unread notifications for parking tickets sit right under a sent message from SEC 1, whoever that is. “Call you back.” Must have been who she was on the phone with. Security 1?

Your hand hovering over the track pad as you prepare to open the conversation, only to halt when you notice the chat that’s already open. RIO V.

Curiosity and fear turn to outrage and jealousy. You were under the impression they weren’t friends anymore.

RIO V: Okay. Well let me know if u need anything. Outgoing: I have it under control. Thank you though. Outgoing: And keep quiet, for God's sake. RIO V: I'm always quiet. RIO V: Unless u don't want me to be quiet ;)

Your hands tremble.

Outgoing: Stop it. RIO V: Seriously tho I can fly in if u need me to ...... or i can see you at the gala thing. when is that? Outgoing: Don't. And I don't remember without my assistant. Will you be donating? RIO V: Still the same one? ya can donate. u pmo but im still a good person Outgoing: Are you? Outgoing: And yes. The very same one despite your efforts to poach. RIO V: Just trying to keep you safe u know that Outgoing: I highly doubt that's what was happening. But OK. RIO V: Champagne is not my friend. and u r getting too attached again. I am trying to be civil with u Outgoing: I am not. RIO V: Just be careful what u tell her ok RIO V: and tell me gala date

You slam the lid shut as soon as your eyes scan the last line. Gurgling in your stomach, a nasty cocktail of regret and disgust. As if you thought you could compete with this woman.

The woman who knows all of Agatha's secrets, who accepts her and protects her no matter what. Despite Agatha seemingly pushing her away. The dynamic is complicated, and you're too involved with something you don't understand yet again.

This doesn't tell you anything. It only makes things worse. What were you even hoping for? A long list of the reasons you're on the island? A step by step on her life?

"Fuck." The word mumbles under your breath as your trembling hands run across your face. A nausea running under your skin and up your throat.

Okay. You don't have long.

You've wasted this time.

You can either tell Agatha you went through her computer while she was getting dressed and that's why you're so tense.

Or you can get naked and pretend that everything is fine and the jealous monster in your chest is all too happy to oblige.

The shirt slips off easily over your head, exposing your skin to the cool air and glass walls. The feeling both freeing and mildly terrifying, still feeling so oddly public.

Breathe.

Out the corner of your eye, thick brown hair suddenly swings into view. A relaxed white blouse and you should be excited but you're suddenly hit with a new wave of anxiety. Is this your fault? Really? If she wasn't so secretive, you wouldn't have tried to find answers. It's not like she doesn't track your every move or apparently watch you on her security cameras.

Her...security cameras.

Agatha's eyes are down at her phone as she walks towards the glass office through the shade of the trees near her. Your eyes dart around the room quickly.

Of course there's a camera in the corner of the room. Of course there is

Maybe she's looking at you snooping right now. Or maybe that security camera is linked to her team. Maybe she doesn't even have access.

The door handle creaks when she turns it, finally looking up at you as she pushes the door open.

You're still.

"Well this isn't what I asked you to be wearing." She gestures to the remaining clothes on your body. Okay. So she didn't see anything and as much as you enjoyed her cute sleepwear this is absolutely even better.

She places a black purse to the side of the desk.

"I'm sorry." You remark before you can even process what exactly you're sorry for, pulling off the rest of the fabric until you're bare before her.

"Atta girl." Agatha's eyes take in your form as she heads to her desk, scanning your body like she's committing you to memory. "You ready to get some work done for me?"

Act natural.

"Yes. Ready to work. Of course. Always am."

Blew it.

"...Okay?"

The chair rolls back as Agatha plops down onto it, spreading her legs, placing her glasses over her eyes and opening the laptop. Is it obvious you were on there? She scans her fingerprint and clicks around. Everything seems...normal?

"Nice shoes." You remark, looking down at a pair of leather boots. You aren't joking either, they give her work outfit a bit of an edge and it's exciting to see something different. "Hm. I don't like heels on the gravel."

You nod. It doesn't seem like she knows. Maybe you're in the clear.

"Right. Here's the last set of reports. Crosscheck with the current ones—" she places a stack of papers neatly on the ground next to her chair "—write everything fresh. As soon as you're done i'll sign off and we'll send it over to the team."

You don't need the hand signal, you know where you're supposed to be. Knees soft on the wood as you settle next to her.

The papers aren't that thick, her hands gentle and lingering as she hands you a black pen. Can she tell you're tense?

"You really don't want to work, huh?" Her fingers are soft against your hair as she calms you. The answer is yes.

"Just want to spend time with you."

"Soon." She types. The noise feels like it's lasting forever. "I told you there'd be a reward. You tell me if you need to stop."

Your exhale is shaky as you flick through the papers. This is fine.

Why did things feel so perfect last night and so imperfect today? You hate that your body had finally caught up.

The notes scribble on the papers as you work through everything. Silence except for the typing, and an occasional noise from Agatha as she thinks out loud. Alternating between a hum, a chew of a pen and tapping her nails on the wood.

The worry you’d caused yourself dissolving as you sit where you’re supposed to be.

After an incomprehensible amount of time in the silence, it's already done. You might have rushed it, but it's probably fine.

You click the pen, handing the documents back towards Agatha. Her eyes dragging slowly from the screen as she decides whether or not she’s ready to look at you.

“Done?”

“Yes.”

Grabbing with her right hand and flicking through with her left. Eyes bright but narrow as they tear over your work.

You blink.

She’s quiet.

Too quiet.

“Hm.”

You swallow.

“Hmm.”

Is it better or worse if you say something?

You shuffle on the ground just a little. Readjusting.

“Stand up.”

“What?”

“Stand. Up.”

You do as your told as she also stands, rising to her feet as you fold your hands in front of you.

“Okay hon. Bend over the desk. Palms on the wood.”

The way the words calmly drip from her lips send a feeling of warmth through your body despite not understanding the context.

Being on the ground for her must have gotten her all worked up. Your back arches, heat under your skin as you try to breathe. The sun on your naked skin through the glass walls.

Agatha fishes around for something in her drawer. Eyes closed and lip between your teeth you try to focus on grounding yourself. Already becoming desperate for her and she'd hardly said two words to you.

"My poor baby." She tickles the curve of your back as her fingernails walk down your spine. "I'm going to punish you now...you already know what you've done wrong, don't you?"

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. "I—yes."

You thought you'd gotten away with it. The drawer closes with a soft noise.

Agatha's hand is warm as she places it on the small of your back, pressing you further into the wood.

"I thought you were a smart girl." She purrs, taking a handful of your ass.

The breath she releases is heavy. You can't tell if that cold feeling on your skin is from your panic or from whatever she's holding.

"Are you not enjoying mommy's hospitality?" Agatha speaks too slowly and much too calmly for someone clearly trying to prove a point. Is this how she talks to everybody who has wronged her, or is this reserved especially for you?

"Silly girl." She tuts."You're already shaking. Brace for me."

The sound of wood on flesh comes before the cry that leaves you, one that is loud and trembling, a hot pain radiating through your ass. Instinctively your hand rushes to your mouth.

"Hands on the table!"

Her tone is entirely different and fuck she's serious. Torn between looking down and looking back at her you catch a glimpse of the wooden ruler in her hands.

"Don't you want to be a good girl for me?" The wood is cool on your skin as she traces the outline of the red on your skin.

"Yes."

It's weak. But it's better than nodding. Another hit in the same spot, the pain much worse than her hand.

Another.

Tears prick in your eyes at the third impact, Agatha coos at the noise as you hold them back. How could you be so dumb?

She knows you went through her computer.

"Fuck! I'm sorry!" You attempt to spill through garbled noises and maybe if she'd move from the same spot this wouldn't be so bad. Tears and saliva spill onto the wooden desk below your face as you try to regulate your breathing. The wet skin on your cheek sticks a little to the desk as you talk.

In trying to find out how dangerous Agatha Harkness is, you seem to have forgotten how you're on a private island with her.

But you'd be lying if you said you weren't soaking wet. What a privilege it is to be at the recieving end of her discipline.

"Nice and red, so pretty like this." Another slap. The stinging has somehow numbed the area a little."How many are we on, baby?"

"I—"

Another.

You jolt forward, pressing into your palms.

"How many?"

You can't tell.

"Six?"

"Five? Oh well that's not very many. I think you can take ten. Don't you think?"

She's taunting you, but you can feel your arousal dripping down your thigh.

"Mayb—"

Another. The sound in your throat is raw and real.

"You will take it. These are the consequences of your actions, see?" Her hand soothes over your skin, fiery and on edge. Goosebumps over the surface as she soothes the hurt with the warmth of her palm. "It'll bruise. So you remember how to behave for me."

She hums as she flicks the ruler in her wrist again. Six or seven?

"I didn't mean to see them. They were open when I—" You sob at the sting. At the overwhelm and the pressing guilt of acting like a jealous teenager.

The ruler leaves your skin as Agatha takes a step back.

You're so focused trying to hold it together you don't realize she's placed it gently back on the desk.

You don't notice the way she looks at your body with her arms crossed and shoulders tense.

"I wasn't even looking for messages I promise I was looking for..."

You trail off. What exactly are you supposed to say next? As if what you were planning on saying made anything better after you searched for her passwords.

The silence is heavy.

"Oh."

You turn your head as she slowly opens her purse. The passion has turned to something new, the air feels different. Worse somehow. A heavy swallow bobs her throat.

And for a second, you don't even know what you've done.

The next few seconds happen too fast to fully process.

Grabbing the contents of her purse, Agatha's fingers tangle viciously in your hair, pulling you up to your feet before you can comprehend what she wants you to do, skin wet and sore and messy.

Her eyes are completely fucking blown, they're so dark and distracting you take a second to register the beautiful black and diamond collar in her hands, a leash in the other.

"This—" she grabs your neck too viciously to be satisfied with your punishment, you wince as she manhandles you "—was supposed to be your reward."

But the collar is around your neck anyway and you're not sure how you're supposed to react while this is happening.

As quick as she pulled you up, you're pushed down to your knees as your increasingly blank brain tries to solve the situation.

Legs firm on the floor and she's already clipping on the leash, pushing you down forcefully like she never has before.

No hand signals. No gentle coo behind harsh words.

Just the hardwood.

"You do not deserve this. Do you understand?" She's dragging you outside before you can protest. You scramble onto your hands and knees to try and match the pace of her already walking, leash in hand as she drags you outside like a disobedient dog.

"Agatha I didn't—"

She stops at your words before you're even down the path, pulling her free hand back and landing a sharp slap across your cheek with the back of her hand. The gasp that leaves your throat almost hurts.

Making her this upset feels worse.

"Do not call me that right now."

With your hands and knees on the gravel, she leads you quickly towards the house.

---

You try to get a good look around as she leads you down a new corridor, it proves to be difficult as she periodically pulls the leash tighter around her hand to keep you close behind her. Hands imprinted thanks to the rocks under your body.

The black door opens silently as she shoves you into the room by the collar, slamming the door behind her.

The lights are dim and red as you try to take in the space. Cages. Benches. Whips. Equipment you don't fully understand. Like the room she first shared with you in her penthouse, but with significantly more budget and privacy.

Your fingers touch the collar as you sit in a puddle of arousal. Agatha says nothing, walking towards the features of the room like she can't quite decide what to do with you, unbuttoning the first few buttons of her shirt, tossing her glasses and rolling up her sleeves.

You should be scared of her right now.

But you're desperate and she is everything.

"I didn't mean to—"

"Quiet!" She yells, yells like she does on the phone or to people she deems unworthy of her time. You flinch at the reaction, such a contrast to last night and the comfort she provided you after she snapped. Her hand raised to silence you.

You nod.

A press of a button. Classical music filling the heavy silence as she slowly wanders back over to you on the ground. The sound of her shoes heavy on the wood.

"I was punishing you..." she laughs in disbelief "...because you made a sloppy, sloppy error on your work."

Oh.

Oh no.

"Now, I did wonder why those notifications didn't come through." The control that's back in her words is impressive given the anger inside of her. "But I suppose that's because you got them."

"Agatha I really didn't mean—"

"I said do NOT call me that right now." Fuck. The word just slipped from your lips. "Now come here."

She points to the ground in front of her and for a second you're almost grateful she isn't shoving you around despite the tenderness in your palms as you crawl across the floor. She didn't specify to, but you suspect if you were to walk normally now she'd lose her shit even more than she already has.

And ultimately, you do deserve it.

"I don't even know where to begin with you." Your head is low when you finally reach her, the leash scraping along the floor as you move until she's able to reach it with her left hand. Her manicured nail points down to the point of her boots. "But you can start with apologizing."

This isn't italian leather and champagne. This is humiliation and punishment. Your tongue meets the boot before she can tell you what to do. Agatha's jaw tightens as she wraps her hand around the leash, her eyes have that unrecognizable look in them she gets sometimes.

You thought maybe you were past that look. That you knew all her looks. But in spite of the heavy exhale that leaves her nostrils you ultimately trust Agatha Harkness. Even if she explicitly told you not to.

You whimper when she pulls your collar so you're forced to look at her.

"Say sorry."

"I'm sorry. Really I—"

Another slap, and fuck this one hurts. Your hand reaching your face in shock. Something falters behind Agatha's expression. You can't tell if it's pity, power or disappointment.

You hope it's not the last one because it is delicious and it is just for you. Nobody else. Not anymore.

"You are on your knees, aren't you? Beg."

"What?" You heard her loud and clear but the words don't register in your head, cloudy as you're still focused on the sting.

"Put your goddamn hands together and beg for my forgiveness."

Leaning back on your knees you do exactly as you're told, pleas of sorry through a cracking voice as your mouth gets wetter and you both know you're trying not to cry more. "Please forgive me. I'm really sorry."

"Please forgive me." She mocks.

"Please. Please. I'm sorry."

"Say please mistress."

"Please mistress."

Your palms press into each hother and you are desperate.

"No."

She's already unclipping the leash and patting the plush bench behind her, retreating to a deep wooden dresser as you climb up onto the soft surface. Legs shaking already as they threaten to betray you.

A beat of anticipation as Agatha returns, one hand loosley grabbing the flared base of a black dildo, the other cracking her knuckles.

"Get on all fours like the dumb little animal you are." She commands as she struts back over to you, the shirt falling slightly off of her shoulder. You try not to gawk at the sight of collarbone when you're so exposed in comparison.

Body reaching you, her fingernails trace your spine gently. Scraping down from your tailbone towards the base of your neck.

You drip onto the bench.

"Let's get this wet, shall we?" Her words are a question but you know it's a demand as she holds the silicone inches from your mouth. The hint of a smirk on her lips as you open your lips to take it in, her eyes on yours. It's thinner than what she wears, and a little shorter.

Your tongue swirls around the toy obediently. You'd be thinking about why this particular size if you weren't so focused on pleasing her.

So when she removes it from your mouth and brings it behind you, the noise of something mechanical starting up alarms you for a second. Closing your eyes to steady your breath as the cool material presses against your entrance. "Disobeying me behind my back, and now look at you."

Agatha's hands hot as she opens you up and you are clearly not very good at being punished because it appears you need no warm up.

"You're this wet from me hurting you? Such a fucking slut for me." Her laugh at the ease it slides into you is masked by your own gasp, filling you slowly, much too slowly and to your disappointment Agatha is unusually silent. She always moans when she first fucks you. Did you mess up that bad?

"You are nothing without me, and you will learn how to behave."

Her hands are off you, her bodyweight away from you and her footsteps coming closer until she's stood directly in front of you. Holding a remote. If you had rational brain, this would be obvious.

"Do you like my toy, pet?" The speed is agonizingly slow and it is not enough.

Punishment.

"Yes."

Your hands are pushing through the leather.

"You broke my trust. Do you know how that feels?"

Guilt and sex is a weird combination and you want to grind back against the toy but you know that'll only make things much, much worse.

"I'm sorry. I'm so—"

One click of a button and the pace increases, not by much but by enough.

"Are you with her? She set you up to this?"

Who? Rio? Zara?

"Nobody...I wouldn't..." You can't speak properly despite her interrogation. Another button click and the speed is finally, finally enough for your mouth to fall open.

"What were you looking at on my computer?"

"Nothing!"

Another click as you clench around the toy. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

"I will ruin you and you will break. Do you understand?"

Another click. Ohmygod.

"You said you didn't care about anything I've done."

"I don't!" You cry but the pace is relentless as it works you open.

"Then why were you snooping through my fucking computer?!"

Back to yelling and back to turningupthemachine—fuck

"Were you going to the board? You want to report me?"

"OhmygodAgatha"

Your fingers are going to tear through this fucking leather as the machine fucks you too fast to have a clear thought.

"If I have to correct you a third time I won't hesitate to shove my cock in your ass right now."

The thought alone is too much to bear as your body goes limp, rocking with the motions of the machine. "I wouldnever...Ineed....Ineed you." Slurs out.

"Then what were you looking for?"

Your response is one long groan and reluctantly, she reduces the speed, it's easier but it's still not quite enough.

"Anything! Answers to anything!" You spit, hair sticking to your face.

Slower now as it slips in and out.

"I saw your...messages with Rio...that's all...about...the gala."

Slower.

"Which is on...the eighth."

Any opportunity to be her best assistant.

"You are a stupid, reckless girl for messing with my things like that."

She stops the toy altogether and although it wasn't reaching quite the right spot for you the feeling of nothing is far much worse. Legs shaking as she returns behind you and slips it off of the machine.

You could collapse, body aching. Staying still until she tells you to move.

"You said you didn't care."

"I don't."

You don't.

"Then why were you looking?"

"I just want to know."

Your tongue is too dry for a real swallow.

"So you're nosy."

She's wandering back over to that damned dresser, hands in the air, her fingers wiggling in anticipation of what she'll choose next.

"Yes." You admit, it comes out empty. Weaker when you see her eyes fall to a short riding crop mounted on the wall. Jesus christ.

"I think—" she's reaching for it under the red lights "—we should make the rest of that pretty ass just as red. To match the other side."

The "no" that leaves you is pleading and shallow.

Agatha halts.

"Are you safewording?"

The next "no" is stronger, because it has to be.

She looks like she was born to hold that leather and stand over you with it in her hands.

You need it. You need her.

"Then you'll do what I fucking want you to do, won't you? Turn around. Clean up the mess you've made on my bench."

That sentence shouldn't be so hot and it takes a moment for your body to listen to you until you're face to face with the puddle on the bench, lapping up your own mess as Agatha dips the end of the crop against your neglected clit. A full body shiver up your spine as it finally gets some attention.

"Let me see your thighs tremble." The leather brushes softly where she didn't touch earlier as she taunts the curve of your ass.

WIth the flick of her wrist, she's already claiming the rest of you and fuck it hurts much more than the ruler. For a second the sinful thought that you may exist soley to be both hurt and cared for by Agatha Harkness crosses your mind.

"So curious aren't you?" Her tone is dark and depraved, watching the marks appear on your skin. Your body covered in goosebumps and shaking for her. It's almost too much, leather on skin all controlled in one area.

“Hurts" is all you can muster up, arms too weak to keep you on all fours as your chest sinks to the plush material under you.

Agatha gives a patronizing "aw" before she's tracing the tip of the leather against your back. "It's supposed to hurt. Why do you need to know everything. Doesn't it get boring?" She offers, her voice languid and she is really enjoying dragging this out.

Why do you need to know everything?

Because your thoughts are consumed with this woman? Because you're undoubtably having deep and unthinkable feelings for someone you don't fully know? Because her laugh is perfect and her nose crinkles and she's the only person you want to pray to?

The soft thoughts contrast your fingernails digging into the leather like some kind of perverted fantasy, your boss punishing you for snooping of all things.

"I just want to."

Is easier than a confession of obsession and it is the wrong answer, the crop coming down but you moan instead of sob and Agatha likes that far too much.

"...What if I don't want to ruin your little romantic fantasy?"

Those words feel much too sincere for this. This isn't just a fantasy. Agatha holds you and gives you her t-shirts and talks about taking you to her family home. She can't ruin it.

"You can't. I don't...I don't care..."

She barks a laugh.

The energy shifts, just a little but the silence that follows is noticeable, like the moment right before a break up or an argument you know you can't come back from.

The second when you and your ex are in bed, staring at the ceiling knowing you just said the exact thing she didn't want to hear.

And you couldn't take it back.

Agatha knows she won't be able to take her next words back.

"Okay...fine."

You brace, mentally and physically as the crop teases your clit again, your body easing into the feeling. Trust. Breathing heavy, steady.

Agatha swallows.

"Some of the money that paid for this island, I took from the company pension fund. Under the radar of course. Cut the budget. Took it for myself."

You should hate that. You would hate that. You would have hated that? Just recently. God who are you? You should hate that but the sensation against your body, the sound of her boots on the wooden floor and the sweet sound of classical music provokes only one thought.

"I don't care."

The crop comes down hard on your ass, like she's trying to get you to care.

"You should care. That was very bad of mommy, wasn't it? I always take a little extra than I say I do. I love buying shit too much to let anyone else have anything." Her words are a mixture of arrogance and anger. "Except for you of course, my special girl."

And Agatha truly has her claws in you, because all you can think is—

"I don't care."

You swallow, a hoarse cry leaving your lips when the blow comes down, thinking of the marks this will leave.

You want them. You want all of them.

"That stupid man, he's looking everywhere for me. Ha. My people are finding him right now...or they're trying to. Who knew a man so big and ugly could hide so easily..." the crop drops to the floor. Her hands are soothing over your bruises as they form. "...mommy sold him a building she knew wasn't safe. Polished it up so she could charge four times the price."

Her fingers find your desperate clit, slowly and agonizingly as she talks. "No reason really. More money. More entertainment. Turns out he has some verrrrry angry business partners." Her words are stretched out as she toys with you and this doesn't feel real.

This doesn't feel real.

"Whoopsie! Is that what you wanted to hear?"

"'I don't...I don't care..." You moan against her precise and familiar fingers and you aren't even aware of what you're saying, you just know you need her and there's nothing she could say that would scare you away from her.

"Luckily the police are in my pocket, so there's nothing really he can do." She dips a finger into you to collect your wetness. It's unnecessary. You can feel it down your thighs.

"Bought this poor kid's business a few years ago, just to kill it—" the sound of her belt unbuckling causes your cunt to throb like a conditioned animal "—was a good idea too. But it might affect business. What's a gal to do?"

The belt drops to the ground.

"It wasn't a good look. Luckily all my lovely little charities wiped that slate squeaky clean. Which was needed between the assistants I fucked and the staff I laid off and the lawsuits I was drowning in..." her words are too casual and she's suddenly too comfortable. Your ears focus on the sound of her boots dropping empty on the floor. "...the tax shelter is a nice little bonus too."

"You care about the charities. I know you do." The last of your energy lets you look over your shoulder just as she's securing herself into a new strap. The toy in the harness sits heavy on her hips larger than what she usually wears and attached to a—

She grabs a bottle of fluid from the dresser before returning to your already exhausted and trembling skin that's still starving for her touch. Her actual touch.

"I never force people into these situations you know. That's what's so silly." Her tone feels almost playful as the bench rocks, the feeling of her body leaning over yours, you're too easy to maneuver as she grabs and positions you. Pinning your legs between hers as you lay face down boneless and exhausted. "They basically put themselves in these positions."

The soft skin of your ass is tender as she lines her cock up with her prize. You didn't try to run. You didn't even use your safeword. You just lay there and did nothing.

The thick tip presses against you as she positions her entire body over yours, the fabric of her shirt pressed flat against your back as she slips inside of you with one fim thrust. The familiar groan you'd do anything for slipping from her lips.

No resistance despite it being much thicker, and of course Agatha notices, laughing as you're willingly trapped face-down beneath her.

As if you'd want to be anywhere else. Even after this.

"Is this turning you on? That's disgusting. I didn't think you'd take this so easily."

Her body flush against yours as your moans get lost in hers, whimpers hot in your ear as she rolls her hips, helpless under her. Despite the words she's confessed to you, all you feel is immense relief. Intimacy as her hips slap against the sweat on your skin.

"You feel so fucking good baby. You always feel so—still so tight for me all worn out like this." A kiss on your neck becomes a lick until your earlobe is between her teeth.

"I want all of you." You confess, her breath warm as you turn as much as you can to see her. "I want everything."

"You don't want everything."

This is not the time for her to deny you, but you should know this is not the time for you to get all your answers. Not when she's fucking you deeper than she ever has, passion and force and pinning you down with her bodyweight as the bench rocks.

But you know there is no other time. It's now or never.

"Agatha—fuck— did you—"

She doesn't correct you, not anymore. Blissed out as she kisses the back of your neck with wet lips. Her hips are at the perfect angle as she moans, her sweat on yours, shirt sticking against your shoulder blades. Lost in her. Lost in you. Your depraved question comes out as moan.

"Is it—ah— true...?"

Would you a year ago would run from you now?

Fuck. There's that spot, her grunts are shallow and they are perfect.

"About—about what they—fuck—said you did—"

Her slack jaw purses into a sly smile, unsure whether to tell you what you want to hear or whether she'll finally scare you off.

But she's already inside of you. In every place.

"My team offered to do it for me..." a tentative roll of her hips. You stutter as you try to stay silent. "But men can be so clumsy..."

Fuck.

"...Poison is very delicate."

You swallow as she halts movement entirely. Waiting for your response. Waiting for you to run. Deep down, you already knew it was true. And your words don't surprise you anymore.

"I don't care."

You know she deserved it but you do not want to think about Agatha's mother right now all you want to think about is the woman on top of you. The woman who trusts you enough to tell you what you want to know.

Instead of being repulsed you feel unfathomably close to her. In response, Agatha grabs your hands, pinning you down by them, pressing onto you until you're completely flat under her weight. Something plastic in her left hand as it merges with your own.

"That's for you, if you want it." She rolls her hips as you gasp, hips stuttering as she's already losing composure "fuck you take me so well".

"I want it." Your own tone is violent, desperate and unrecognizable.

"You still want my come baby? Even after everything?"

Fuck. Fuck of course you fucking do.

"I want it" You beg, right at the edge.. "I'm sorry for snooping I want it. I— I want you. Please."

Her groans are raw and animalistic in your ear as she sets a faster pace, the push of her hips slapping against the raw skin of your ass. "You're mine, you know that? This pretty body is mine. Every part of it."

"Yours." The thought is enough to push you over the edge. "Please—fuck—please."

"Let me feel it baby, gonna come so deep in you. Fuckfuck—"

Her body jerks as she cries out, stuttering her hips inside of you as your vision blurs, her hand wrapped around yours as she presses down, pumping her come into you. Clenching and throbbing as she forces a few deep thrusts to make sure it doesn't spill out.

"Jesus christ sweetheart."

Agatha's body collapses onto yours, twitching and panting. Hands wrapped around your own as your breathing struggles to return to normal. If you were trapped under her forever, you'd live.

"I forgive you." She whispers, letting you settle before she pulls out dangerously slowly. You muster a croaky "thank you".

Agatha's legs tremble as she stands off of the bench, dropping the harness to the ground and eventually grabs some lotion and a towel robe. She had these the whole time? Did she just want to see you in her t-shirt?

Her feet are slow on the walk back, taking a while to reach you. It gives you enough time to breathe, at least. You lay still a little longer, her skin on yours when she returns. Letting your body finally relax as her fingers spread you open to watch the come trickle onto the table.

"Hm look at that. I should do that before a meeting. Have you cross your pretty legs in front of the board."

The thought would be enough to set you off if you weren't already limp.

"You're trembling, honey." Her hands are soft on your waist as she helps you sit up, pulling the towel robe around your body, the rough material grounding and comforting, hair sticking to your forehead.

Agatha's cheeks are flushed and her shirt creased as she takes you in, she is beautiful but your brain is dizzy and distant like you can't quite process anything.

The tears start before you can stop them.

"I'm sorry, about snooping I really am."

Like that's the worst thing that was said today.

"Hey, you're alright. You're okay. I—" standing before you, she wraps her hands around you, shuffling you to the edge of the bench so you're flush against her chest. Her heartbeat comforting in your ear. "—I forgive you. You took your punishment so well, you're such a perfect girl."

You nuzzle against her chest as she runs one hand through her hair. "I can't believe I just told you that. Fuck."

Her body stiffens. A swallow.

"…Don't run from me...please don't run from me."

You pull her in tighter, closer as she soothes your back with the palm of her hand.

"I'm not running."

"I want to be good."

Her own eyes are glassy.

"I know."

Agatha holds you for so long, you almost sleep pressed up against her.

A phenomenal shower, a lotion and a plain white t-shirt later you're lured to the kitchen at the promise of a hot meal. The food would go down a treat, especially with the staff Agatha has. The food is always amazing.

The conversation after the comedown died, feeling both fictional and inevitable. You should feel sick processing it, but you strangely feel...nothing at all.

Perhaps it'll hit later. Perhaps you really, truly don't care. Slipping Agatha's t-shirt over your head and boxers around your waist, knowing the iceberg of things she'd been keeping from you makes you feel special of all things.

Maybe you should unpack that tomorrow.

The floor is warm with underfloor heat as you make your way from her bedroom to the kitchen. Your cortisol spikes when you see Agatha stood over the burner, a sweater and shorts on her frame.

She's cooking.

"There you are." She processes how you struggle to get comfortable on the barstool. "I'm making spaghetti."

"You're cooking?"

"Well there's nobody else here and i'm certainly not going to get you do it. You're bearly awake and its just gone five."

"Long day."

Understatement of the century.

She takes a beat to read a recipe book she has balanced next to the stovetop, a carnage of seasonings crammed next to it. Red stuff spilled on the counter.

"I can make it, pasta sauce is just a few ingredients."

She snaps the pasta in half. You wince.

"No. I'm making it..." She clears her throat like the words are caught in it" ... I—uh...I want to take care of you." She says it like she hasn't been practising saying that in her head, but the delivery of the sentence has some weight to it.

The sweater sits too loose around her neck as she grabs a wooden spoon and goes to town on the sauce. The heat is way too high. You don't want to backseat cook. Is the water even boiling properly? Oh god.

"Christ I miss the chef. I don't know why I thought I could be here on my own..." Suddenly the book is slammed shut and shoved against the wall with a loud THUD that makes you jump out of your skin.

"Bug. Bug on the wall. Got him. Weird freak looking thing." In her bug-killing zone she hasn't noticed the sauce spitting hot liquid all over the wall. "Agatha the fucking—" you're on your feet before you can stop yourself, turning off the heat. The red liquid half on the backsplash and the other burnt to the bottom of the pan.

"We can just have the pasta." She offers with a quiet voice. Is she embarrassed?

"Sure. Did you salt the water?"

The water isn't boiling. It's a gentle simmer and is too small for the spaghetti.

"That wasn't in the book."

Upon closer inspection, the book covered in dead bug is for gourmet cooking and old as fuck. Her groan is long and heavy like a petulant teenager, stamping her foot on the ground.

You go into fixing mode instantly. "I was going to say we could order something but you know, island."

"I have some pre-made stuff in the freezer. For when I'm alone."

Oh? Then why is she bothering at all?

"There's probably a pizza. Nothing super fancy, last time I was here it was only for a day or so, it'll be with whatever we had leftover. They're easy to freeze."

"That's perfect."

Pulling open the massive freezer, Agatha pulls out the fanciest frozen pizza you've ever seen. Turning on the oven, you make sure she isn't blasting it at 500 degrees top shelf.

"Do you want a soda? I have stuff in the fridge." Cherry Coke seems to be the only thing she has in her fridge, aside from half a block of cheese and a bottle of vodka. She eyes it. "Or a martini."

"Soda is good." The cool condensation in your hands while grabs herself one. "I didn't know if you'd like this, it's not as sweet as the other stuff."

"It's exactly what I need, to be honest." A satisfying pop as you pull the tap. She's putting a glass in front of you before you can drink from the can.

"Don't drink from those, you don't know where they've been." You nod, letting her help you as she takes it from your hands and begins pouring. The glass shallow for whiskey, not quite big enough for the whole soda.

"So..." She starts, pouring her own soda into a glass. "...I have a big couch in the other room. TV. Maybe like, seven DVDs."

What the fuck is happening right now? You seem to have unlocked dating bonus features.

"Are you suggesting a movie and a pizza? Are you okay?"

"Yeah that's what I'm suggesting. But if you make it a big deal i'll throw all the dvds into the sea. Maybe they’ll meet your jeans.”

She's already out of the room assuming that you'll follow her. No timer set for the food which means you'll inevitably have to keep an eye on the time.

You scramble off the stool and following her into the den.

The couch is enormous, essentially a bed you can both lay on along with two other people if they were here. Thankfully they aren’t.

Soft lights and a television disguised as a painting. The fur rug is soft on your feet, and the blankets she has neatly rolled up near the arm don't stay so organized as you pull one over yourself.

Pizza and a movie is a date you've done a hundred times. But not like this. Agatha is Agatha, with a pizza covered in balsamic glaze, a blanket made of cashmere and a black and white French movie.

You don't bring any attention to it. This is just her, like everything else is.

Unfortunately, despite wanting this moment since you first showed up at her penthouse, your eyelids feel heavy. You aren't surprised, not really. This has been a very long few days but you're desperate to stay awake. To absorb this with her. What if she doesn't want to do it again? What if she only wants to make you fly in helicopters and go to the opera?

Right now you're able to snuggle into her soft sweater, the cherry perfume on her neck in your nose and her warmth on your own.

You take a risk, but after today it feels less stressful and more undeniable, wrapping your arm over her as you cuddle into her. She tenses for a moment before you can almost hear her brain telling her to relax.

Your eyes close....

No! Wake up. Wake up. Focus. What's happening in the movie? Maybe she didn't notice. You don't want her to think you aren't interested.

Agatha pulls some of the blanket over herself to stop you hogging it like a burrito. "Is it the French? Are the subtitles boring you?" her words feel sincere and no! Not at all!

"No I swear, i'm just so sleepy."

"Oh. It's almost over." Her hand tentatively reaches around you, pulling you in closer and as much as you want this it is not helping your tiredness.

"I can translate. Close your eyes."

"Hm. Translate." You shuffle closer to her.

"Oh, I lie now and then, I suppose. Sometimes I'd tell them the truth and they still wouldn't believe me, so I prefer to lie."

She swallows as she finishes the sentence and that one was maybe a little close to home, you reach the last slice of cold pizza when she makes no attempt to eat it.

"I like that you speak lots of languages." You start, waking yourself up to avoid her thinking too long about today. "We can go anywhere and you can talk for me."

She raises an eyebrow. "You're a smart girl. You can talk for yourself. I can get you lessons."

You roll your eyes.

"Stop that."

"Or what?"

"I'll take you back down the hall." She points towards the doorway.

"Oh noooo. Don'tttt." The cheese threatens to fall off the pizza.

Her tongue pokes her cheek before her face softens, you can tell she's thinking deeply about what she wants to say. "Do you still want to go places with me?" She asks and her voice feels smaller than it usually does.

"I meant what I said. It wasn't just the sex." The French continues in the background, you'll be missing the end of this movie. "You do what you have to do."

You don't mention the things she does clearly for power and entertainment. How do you rationalize them to yourself? To her? Are they really that big of a deal? Are they any worse than firing half the office and manipulating her assistants? Both of which you've dismissed before.

You don't care as much as maybe you should. Maybe it's because of her eyes and the lines around her lips when she smiles. You just know you want to be here.

"You're in this now. You know that, right?"

She shuffles up in the seat, separating herself from you. Wanting to look right at you when she talks. You reach for your glass of soda to wash the pizza down.

"What will happen to him, the man?" You ask as the liquid relaxes the lump threatening to clog your throat.

"We're hoping to pay him off."

You place the empty glass on the coffee table to the side of the couch. Knowing the answer to your next question. Not fully understanding how you feel about it.

"...and what if he doesn't take it."

She smiles like she doesn't know what to tell you.

"He will. It's a big offer."

And if he doesn’t…

The film comes to an end behind you, the credits rolling. The room is darker than you realized with the curtains closed, the lack of movie highlights it. The white of the credits glowing on her skin.

"Is that why..." Um. How do you word this. "Zara..."

"No." She cuts you off before you can figure out how to say it. "She doesn't know about any of that. She just wanted to expose my interactions with my assistants." She shuffles in her seat, adjusting her legs and removing lint from her sweater. "Which may I add were all consensual. I didn't force anyone to do anything they didn't want to do."

"Hey. No baby I know." You reach for her. "We'll figure it out. I can help you now, I mean. if you need it. You can talk to me."

Her lip settles between her teeth. "Where did you come from?" Agatha's hands find your face as she pulls you closer. Her lips on yours softly, a claim and a promise, scooting closer to you when she breaks contact.

"Your millionth job interview." You laugh.

"If I interviewed you myself I wouldn't have made it so long without touching you." You swallow as she pulls you onto her lap. Heat under your clothes. Will you always want her this badly?

"We'll fly back in a day or so. I'll handle it then."

Your eyes widen. "A day? I didn't bring clothes."

"Whaaaat? I totally didn't know that." She slams herself back against the couch cushions, pulling you with her. "There's nobody else here except perimeter security." You wobble on her lap, your hands on her shoulders.

So there is security. Hm. They must be good at hiding. Did they see her dragging you down the path earlier? Your stomach coils.

She purses her lips, sucking her cheeks in.

"You really won't learn French, when we go to France?"

You pull her into a kiss, hands on the sharp curve of her jaw. A shit-eating grin on your face when you pull away.

"You want to take me to France."

Behind the couch it's easy to spot a half-eaten bag of chips and a glass of water. Sleeping pills next to them. Did she sleep here last night?

Her eyes are tired when your gaze finds hers again. It can't be later than seven.

"When this is all over...I'll take you there. Deal?"

"Deal." You agree.

No more secrets.

"Now..." She begins, voice cracking as she eases you off of her and back onto the soft material beneath you. "...How about something in English so if you rest your eyes it doesn't matter."

"I didn't realize you had anything in English." You pull the blanket up to your chin as Agatha rocks the couch, heading over to the TV to remove the disc.

"I have uh..." she pulls open her small collection. Probably the classics. Something elegant. Gone with the Wind. Breakfast At Tiffany's? "...The Craft or The Exorcist."

You sit bolt upright.

"I can't sleep through either of those!"

"Yes you can. I do it all the time."

"You're going to absorb them into your subconscious."

She puts the French disc back in the case. "I already do. You wanna see me spin my head all the way round?"

The giggle that leaves you plants the biggest smile on her face. "I puke up green stuff too, I just have my people clean it. Just all the time puking up green stuff. Can't stop."

"You are gross." But you're smiling. She's smiling.

"I'm getting another soda. You want another?" She still hasn't chosen a DVD but you'll get nightmares if you watch that one before bed. Instead grabbing her empty glass from the arm of the couch.

"Sure. Yeah thank you." You reach for your own, handing it to her.

"You're welcome hon."

Her eyes linger on you a second too long as she leaves the room, not quite knowing where this new chapter leaves the two of you.

But you're ready to find out.

---

Taglist: @mommyissuesismypersonality @chlondykebar @sweetmidnights @rmaximoff @hannah-0730 @milflovers4 @neverfindmegone @absolute-memegarbage @wifeofmanymilfs @marcelinaceciliarose @marcelinaceciliarose @6stolenangel9 @pianogirl2121 @hagofswords @natashasmuse @htinha157 @@wandanatsub @morgananyx @galaxybaby @greyella @w4ndsversew0nder @daffodil-heart @isixxxx

@idonutevnno @whoreforolderfictionalwomen @deathbylesbianwitches @angelxblink @sapphicandgraphic @wwwtonikixxes @z3mos @chloeelou02x @peskygremlin @seaoflittlefires @ughidunn0 @three3ofswords @langeskovstg1 @mommy-mommy-mommy-hi @agathaspett @starrgirll05 @wifehahn @angel-kitten-babygirl-u-choose @lowlyjelly @ladyd8 Hello my darlings sorry for the delay of this chapter omg! Life has been crazy recently but I was so excited for this chapter, it changes a lot of things and pushes us into the next act of their relationship. Domestic Harkness anyone? It's also been 1 year since ER released originally and it's been a fun ride, would love to know what your favorite moment has been so far? Lots of love <3

#reblog because I have been thinking about complicit reader uhhhh

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