♱ Baffled at the audacity you have to pull something of that nature in public. Her expression doesn’t falter, if not contorting into a face of disgust. Although, she quite enjoys it. Not that she’d ever admit it.
“Your displays of affection make me nauseous.” She says, hiding the small smile that begins to form on her dark lips.
AGNES DEMILLE
⛦ Typically she’s the one surprising you—but on the rare occasion it’s the other way around, she couldn’t be more flustered. Her cheeks glowing a bright red that matches with her ginger hair.
“So you managed to sneak up on me, huh?” She murmurs meekly. The next time she gets the chance, she’ll make sure you feel the same.
ENID SINCLAIR
❤︎ The absolute QUEEN of PDA. She loves randomly running up and hugging you from behind, or giving you a small peck on the cheek before heading to her next class. So she couldn’t be happier when you reciprocate.
Her reaction would be much different than normal since she loves physical touch, but she would give you a big warm smile.
As soon as she laid eyes on you, Agatha knew she had to have you.
You, with your alluring eyes, standing out from the rest of the crowd. You, that’d came to find her after the show. You, who all but begged her to take you to the Witches’ Road that she sang about onstage.
You wanted to go on the Road to recover a destroyed family spell book, you’d explained. You weren’t unique in this request, of course. For years Agatha had been luring in witches with the promise of a journey on the Road to receive what they most desire. The witch had collected a fair share of bodies through this scheme of hers.
But she had no wish to drain you of your powers like she did everyone else. A pretty thing like you didn’t deserve that fate, she was sure. As Agatha led you and the makeshift coven out into a field, she leaned in close to you. “Don’t do what they do.” She whispered quickly, before resuming her position at the front of the group. You looked at her, confused, but her face told you not to ask questions.
Agatha began the speech she’d recited many times before. She smiled at the admiration across your face, your girlish wonder exciting her. You couldn’t help it, you found her captivating. She was still wearing her stage getup, and the leather outfit combined with her tousled hair meant she had your undivided attention.
All of you listened intently before singing the song you all knew by heart. But at the end, no door emerged. You could feel the crush of disappointment and you saw Agatha’s mouth twist into a scowl. “Never have I met such a useless coven of witches.”
Her clear disdain stung, and you could tell the other witches were getting upset. “Come on,” Agatha growled. “Did you learn your craft from the Bible?”
Hands began glowing as the other witches’ anger rose from her jibes. Agatha caught your eye and shook her head almost imperceptibly, and you held off on bringing forth your own magic.
Colourful beams of energy began hitting Agatha, but the witch seemed to be undisturbed. The intensity of the magic hitting her increased, and she stretched out her arms as if she was taking it in. You hardly registered what was happening before the rest of the witches slumped to the ground, their lifeless husks at your feet.
You gasped in horror, looking down at the once-alive witches. “How did that- Did you-?”
Agatha feigned her own disappointment as she closed the gap between the two of you. “It’s so unfortunate but this happens sometimes.” She sighed, shaking her head. “The Road can be fickle, and witches aren’t patient creatures. I’ve had to learn to be defensive, Y/N.”
Agatha eyed you, trying to gauge your reaction, as your expression morphed from fear to sadness. Seeing you like this only fuelled her desire, and she smirked to herself as she wrapped an arm around you.
“Why don’t we get away from this, hm?” She asked. You nodded, and with a wave of her hand you two were in what you figured was her trailer.
Agatha motioned for you to sit on the couch as she poured a glass of liquor for the both of you. You accepted gratefully before downing it, wincing slightly at the burn.
“I’m sorry about earlier, doll. I’m trying to improve the ability to conjure the Road…but until then, it’s what I have to do.” Agatha studied your face, her gaze catching on the pout of your lips.
You grabbed her hand in yours and gave it a squeeze. “That must be so difficult.”
“Yes,” Agatha put on a frown. “So difficult.” Ever the actress, she willed her eyes to brim with tears.
“Oh, Agatha,” your expression was plain sympathy, and it took everything in Agatha to not cackle at how easy this was. “I’m so sorry.” You leaned in to give the older witch a hug. Agatha could feel desire coiling within her as she wrapped her arms around you, breathing in your scent.
As you pulled away from the hug, Agatha brought a hand up to brush hair away from your face. Her fingers came to rest on your chin lightly, forcing you to hold her intense gaze. “Don’t be sorry, pretty girl.”
Slowly, she brought her mouth to yours and you found yourself sinking into the kiss. Agatha’s lips were hungry, dominating, and you moaned when her tongue slipped into your mouth.
Agatha pulled away suddenly, and she revelled in how you leaned in, chasing the feeling of her lips. She stood up and sauntered over to the bed at the other end of the trailer, dropping the leather jacket she was wearing to the floor. She continued stripping her clothes as she climbed onto the bed. Settling herself between the pillows, she looked at you expectantly. “Coming, doll?”
You felt your breathing quicken as you made your way over to her naked form, illuminated softly by the lights on her vanity. Before you could get on the bed, Agatha stopped you. “Ah, ah,” she tutted, motioning with her hand for you to take off your clothes.
Heat rose in your cheeks as you began stripping your clothes off for her. You could see Agatha watching intently, lips parted, as you pulled your panties down your legs before unclasping your bra.
Agatha hummed in approval as you crawled towards her before straddling her lap. Her mouth met yours again, hungrily, and both of your moans filled the small space. She maneuvered under you so that you were straddling one of her legs now, and you groaned at the pressure against your bare pussy.
“Oh,” Agatha smirked as you began grinding down onto her thigh, your slick slowly dripping out of you. “Feels good doesn’t it bunny?”
Biting your lip, you nodded furiously. “Use your words.” Agatha said, grabbing your chin to force your mouth open.
“Yes,” you cried out. “Feels so good.”
Agatha began trailing wet kisses along your jaw. You felt her lick a stripe along your neck with her tongue before she made her way to your tits. Eagerly, she sucked and nibbled at your nipple, using her hand to pinch the other. Agatha looked up at you and could tell you were close. “Come for me, baby. Come on my thigh.”
You groaned as waves of pleasure rocked through you, and you brought your mouth back down to Agatha’s. The older witch moaned, and her hands gripped your waist as she guided you so that you were under her now.
Agatha began trailing kisses down your stomach, her tongue lazily drawing circles as she made her way to your center. Between your thighs, she nearly drooled at the sight of your glistening folds. She traced a finger along them, brushing your clit gently, laughing when you hissed. “Mm, don’t say you’re too sensitive for me now, bunny.”
Unable to hold herself back any longer, Agatha buried her face between your legs. Her tongue ran through your folds, collecting your juices. She hummed as she savoured the taste, your taste, before she slid two fingers into you and began pumping them in and out. “Fuck,” you groaned, the added sensation fuelling the pleasure building inside you.
Agatha marvelled at how your walls squeezed around her digits. Your moans were getting louder, and she wrapped her free arm over your hips, which were beginning to buck up against her. Her tongue swirled over and around your clit, and she picked up a pattern of sucking it into her mouth and releasing.
“Agatha,” you moaned. The older witch’s piercing gaze held yours as you came undone, your back arching off the bed. Agatha’s grip was strong and she held you in place while you rode out the waves of pleasure, her mouth not leaving your center.
As you came down from your high, Agatha moved up from between your legs. But before she could bask in the satisfaction of making you come again, you were straddling her.
“Up for round three already, pretty girl?” Agatha grinned from underneath you. You answered by meeting her mouth with yours, savouring the flavour of your juices. “I need to taste you,” you mumbled against her lips.
You helped her move onto her stomach so that her back was now to you. Agatha moaned softly as you trailed your tongue down her neck sloppily, your lips leaving marks behind. Your hand snaked its way down over her ass to her center, where you rubbed a finger through her folds before pushing it in.
Agatha grunted underneath you at the feeling of your fingers filling her aching hole. Her hands gripped the sheets as you slowly moved your fingers in and out. Your mouth continued its ministrations on the sensitive skin of her neck before nibbling at her ear lobe.
“Oh,” Agatha groaned as you quickened the pace of your fingers. You could feel her slick gathering on your hand as the sound of your fingers pumping into her filled the room. “God, yes, baby.”
You felt her walls clench around you as she came, but you were relentless. Before she could relax you were between her legs, arms under her hips to prop her onto all fours.
“F-fuck,” Agatha groaned when your tongue made contact with her folds. You slurped up her juices, probing her opening with your tongue before flicking her clit. Agatha’s face was pushed into the pillows, her back arched, as you circled her clit before sucking it into your mouth.
You felt her hand reach back and grip your hair, shoving your face deeper into her pussy. “Right there, don’t stop- agh, good, good girl.” Agatha cried out as her orgasm shook through her body.
Both of you panting, you collapsed next to her on the pillows. Agatha clasped your face, bringing you in for a deep kiss, her tongue gathering the remnants of her juices from your lips.
“Maybe I could help you,” you mumbled softly.
Agatha smirked. “Oh you’ve helped me plenty, doll.”
“No,” you giggled. “With the Road. I could try and help you in conjuring it.”
“Oh,” Agatha’s eyebrows raised. She’d nearly forgotten about that whole thing. “Yes, you’d be a huge help.” She grinned.
Was it wrong to lie to you? Maybe. But Agatha would be damned if she let morals get in the way of keeping you by her side.
Officer Agnes O'Connor Daddy/FTM Reader + Puppy | Agnes + Reader List | Darkfic +DeadDove List | Tip Jar💰 | My Stories MasterList | AO3 | 2026 Trans Pride MasterList
Warnings: Darkfic / YANDERE / Adultnapping / Bad Cop / NON CON / DEAD DOVE DON'T EAT / Water Play / Collar Kink / Puppy Kink / Gender Humiliation / FTM Reader Humiliated / Daddy Kink / G!P Agnes / Mud Play / An@l T@il / PluG/ Crying / Dry In$ert / Bad Kink / Degregation / Humiliation / Cum Play / NOT SANE / 18+
“You can’t keep me back here.” You snarl at the cop. She’s picked you up for ‘public indecency,’ as you were about to get fucked outside of a gay bar. Your friend getting away after scurrying in the alley.
You’d been in the back of her cop car, handcuffed for the rest of her long night shift. Now it was well past five a.m, and you were scared.
Whatever this cop had planned, you were sure it wasn’t badge-worthy.
Agnes proved you right as she pulled up to her gross, dingy house in the middle of nowhere.
“What the fuck is this?” You shout between the caged wall separating you two. You were not about to be at the end of whatever stupid horror movie you’d walked into.
“You know, you should be thanking me. Little t dick boy like yourself. I took you out of a bad situation, you could have gotten a disease or something!” The cop slut shames you, and you balk at her.
“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” You scream, and the cop grunts and rolls her eyes as she gets out of the car.
Opening the back car door, you go to jump at her, only to find her gun in your mouth before you can fight back.
“You can be a good boy or a rotten boy. Either way, you’re gonna do what I want. Got it?” Her tone leaves no arguing, and neither does the weapon.
Agnes pushes the barrel of the gun past your teeth and onto your tongue.
“Say ‘Yes, Daddy.’” The cop ordered, and you grumbled with the metal in your mouth in response.
It appeased her enough.
“Good boy, now then. What’s with all this crap?” She scowls glancing at your attempt at a goth outfit for the club.
You don’t respond, and her disgust is clear.
“Get inside, take it off.” She grabs you back by the bath of your hair, and you fall to your knees as she just about drags you around the house to an old storm cellar. Like the ones in fucking ‘The Wizard of Oz’ or some shit.
She opens the door and throws you down into it.
Her own boots thumping as she walks down the steps and shuts the doors.
One light bulb in the room swings as she clicks it on.
You’re on a gross, dirty floor in some doomsday-like prepper's cellar.
Agnes places the gun in the front of her work dickies and moves to the corner.
You're moving on your knees now, and that’s when you hear the metal spicket creak.
The water hits you so fast you splutter.
“Open your mouth, you dirty fucking whore. I bet you sucked cock in there too, didn’t you? Huh? A blowie in the bathroom for a few bucks?” Agnes adds and you try not to throw up as she hits you in the face with the force of the hose's spray.
You lie flat on your back and gasp as Agnes police officer's boot comes down on your crotch.
You shiver and cough up water.
“Take it off.” Officer O’Connor repeats, and you shiver from the cold but become obedient.
Lifting the shirt off, she can see what she’s working with.
“The dirty pants next.” Agnes adds, and lifts her boot as you shimmie out of the dirty short shorts and the jockstrap.
You were naked, and Agnes kicked the wet wad of clothes aside like it was trash.
“Look at how hairy you are. What a fucky furry little boy.” Agnes says then steps on your thigh, pinning you.
You shiver with fear as water drips off you.
Agnes thumbs the hose to get a stronger spray as she jets it onto your pussy.
You squirm u comfortable as the cop directs it onto your clit.
“You dirty boy, you like that, don’t you? You’re so disgusting. You like it when Daddy washes you? You think your little clit deserves my hand to wash it? No, not after you were out whoring yourself!” Agnes screams, and you’re sure you’ve gone to hell now.
“Get on your stomach, you filthy cunt slut.” Agnes tells you and you stare frozen up at her.
She takes out her gun and fires it into the corner and you almost pee yourself.
“DADDY SAID GET ON YOUR STOMACH? WHAT FAG YOU NEVER PLAY SIMON SAYS?” DADDY SAID ROLL OVER, BOY!” Agnes yells and you do it so fast.
You feel the pieces of sharp gravel cut your knees.
“Good, now put your face is the mud, and your ass in the air.” Agnes adds and you hear metal, was it a buckle.
You make the wrong move, turning to see Agnes has…has a real dick. Not like the ones you put in your gym shirt.
And not like the gay guy who was going to fuck you outside.
It was big and uncut, it was thick and veiny and already leaking.
Whatever officer O'Connor was into for play, you must have been giving her.
There was something even more fucked up as a trans person about to be violated by another.
But as Agnes saw your dirty face looking up at her she kicked your ass check with her boot and you fell forward clumsily.
“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU LOOKING AT?” The cop screamed at you and tears fell down your face.
“I-I’M SORRY OFFICER!”
“You’re sorry? No baby boy, you’re sorry for whoring yourself out. But don’t you worry, Daddy’s gonna clean you up and teach you what’s right.” Agnes says, calmer now, and you shudder as snot drips from your nose into the dirt.
“I’ll-I’ll be good - please.” Your murmur and Agnes takes the hose and point it into your asshole. You yell and squirm away only for Agnes to get on the floor and wrestle you into submission.
She alternated between water in your asshole and against your cunt.
The force of the water made you raw and swollen.
It violated you in every way.
Even in the dirt and the water, you could smell Agnes' cock, the musty scent of her balls. Her sweat after wrestling with you in the dirt.
You cried and shivered and sat in your own dirty water on the cellar floor.
Until Agnes shut off the water, you stayed still, no fight in you.
“You don’t look like a boy anymore. No, you look like some sort of mutt I found in the woods. Is that what you are, baby? Not a boy, not with those nipples and that pink cunt. You’re a god damn bitch, a dog. Little stray in the mud, no one to pick you up. That’s it, I’m right aren’t I?” Agnes told you and you didn’t respond, just lay there limp.
“You choose what’ll it be, boy or bitch dog?” Agnes asked, and something about the way she was gripping her cock made you terrified of answering wrong.
You swallowed the dirty water and thought for a moment.
If this is how the cop treated boys, maybe you didn’t want to be one anymore.
Your bloody knees and raw holes.
“B-bitch dog.” You say into the mud.
Your dirty body, no longer your own.
Agnes grunts and fists her cock harder.
“Prove it.” She said, and you sniffled, but something inside of you knew what was being asked.
“Come on bitch pup, prove to Daddy,” Agnes said through clenched teeth and you wanted to survive this, needed to.
You tried to leave your body as you hoisted your shoulders up, and stayed low, crawling forward.
Some primal part of you knew.
You crawled closer, and sat on your heels, right in front of Agnes' cock.
“Open, let me see that puppy tongue. You need your dinner, and want Daddy to give you some protein. Come on, puppy, show me you're hungry for thick meat.”
Agnes slaps her cock against the outside of your cheek, it hits with a thud. The skin on her shaft is pressing against the soft side of your cheek. You hadn’t grown facial hair yet. So Agnes' cock moved smoothly over your cheek, humiliating.
Then she pushed her foreskin up and back, the tip dropping a dollop of cum creamy right on your tongue.
Instantly salty, you whimpered, something about wanting this to be the way you had hoped your night would end didn’t make any of this easier.
Agnes growled, and the semen slid with your saliva off your tongue like a waterslide onto the floor.
Agnes slapped your face with her hand now, hard enough for you to lose your balance.
“YOU WASTED IT!” Agnes growled, the dim light shining off of her badge, still wearing the top half of her uniform.
Your bottom lip quivers as you wait for what punishment would be tolled out for such a disappointment.
“D-Daddy I’m sorry.” You tried, and Agnes moved forward and you flinched back too slowly.
Grabbing your ankle, she uses a strength only an active duty cop would possess to manhandle you.
Your body slides against the wet mucky floor until your further into the darker corner. Handling you like a sack of potatoes. A thing.
You hiccup as you start to hyperventilate, seeing metal, you think this is the end.
Only for Agnes to reach into the dark and open a drawer, a metal collar coming into view. A collar fit for a mangey mutt who couldn’t listen to basic directions.
“N-No-No!” You cry out, and Agnes grabs your ankle harder and twists.
“Nu-uh dogs bark. Be a good dog, come on slut, bark for Daddy. See if you’re too stupid to listen again, see what I do next.” Agnes warned and your whimpers turned into little animal noises.
Agnes shook her head and you tried again.
Making little yipping noises and then the cop laughed.
“You really do need training, don’t you.” Agnes added, disappointed you couldn’t do anything right.
Her cock slapped hard up against her uniform and you were sure even if you reached out and licked her balls - the officer wouldn’t stop her torture.
“Woof-woof.” You barked but the tears were no longer invisible compared to the dripping wet water down your naked form.
Agnes put a collar on you fit for a pound dog.
It was tight and it cut into your neck, but it didn’t matter.
The cop wasn’t done, and whatever cut the leather might have done into your skin would only further the reality that you were making a mess. A mess O’Connor would make you clean up.
Her hand moved into an old workbench, yanking out a fluffy tail butt plug.
You scrambled back but it was to no avail, Agnes grabbed your collar and tisked at you.
Linking your collar to a heavy chains that connected deep into the dark cellar. Obviously your new home.
“WOOF WOOF!” You yelled, and Agnes only laughed in delight as she flipped your body and spit between your ass cheeks as you bucked like a bronco.
“You keep movin’-It’ll just hurt more,” Agnes adds, and another dribble of her seed leaks from her tip down onto your ass cheek.
Proving she was having such a good night, finding a stray dog in an alley, in need of a good home.
“BARK BARK BARK!” You scream as the bulb point of the anal plug moves against your tight hole.
It’s dry, it’s forced, it hurts, and yet your pussy is coming alive in ways the stupid nightlife hadn’t come close to.
“LOUDER PUPPY!” Agnes degraded with glee. The tail was rubber, black with a curl.
It wasn’t big enough to do real damage, but boy, did she love how you were wiggling.
Grabbing the chain connected to your collar, she yanked it hard down, and your neck jerked with it.
“Puppy, you can do better than that! Daddy can’t reward such a pathetic boy in heat!” Agnes warned, and you cried and whimpered but kept making woofing noises.
Your body was tired from fighting, slowed limply and your mouth dropped open as the plug moved to the thickest part through your anal ring.
It ached and as if to make fun of you and the burn, the misery you were in.
Agnes gave another loud spit that splat against your burning asshole.
Lubricating it just a little, enough for your hole to clench the last bit out of reflex instead of arousal.
Your hips jerk and the sound of your wet labia makes a squelching noise, and you want to die.
“Puppy’s making a mess.” Agnes added, enjoying the humiliation.
You turn to see she’s covered in dirt too now, as she stands up to enjoy the sight of you. The two of you look like mud wrestlers, it’s all over her uniform and face, she pushes it off her dick absantly as she stares at your tale.
You fear how long she’ll keep you, and then the terrifying idea of what the officer would do once she was no longer interested.
You have no more tears though, your legs burn, your asshole throbs.
You have no more fight.
“Wag your tail bitch boy.” Agnes tells you, the sound of her zipper as she peels off her uniform and sets it onto the cellar workbench.
Her tank top and sports bra peeled off last, you wonder where her workpants with that glock went.
Would she forget about it, leave it in here with you?
Or would she put it in your pussy, make you ride the barrel while you licked her taint?
You get a slap against your asscheek and you jump at the action.
“Go on, wag your tail. I gave you a collar, a home, be grateful to Daddy. Wag that tail.” Agnes says and you look over your shoulder to where your chest and stomach is still in the wet mud. It’s caking onto your body and your scared the damn hose will come back out.
Agnes slaps your other cheek this time, furious at your lack of response.
Her knees come back to the floor and she spanks you over and over and over.
You try to bark but it just comes out as sharp intake of breath and dry sob.
Agnes is raising her big hand over her shoulder with momentum as it slams down on your ass cheeks.
You lose balance and your nose goes into the mud and you splutter and choke on the dirt in your mouth.
“PUPPY WAG YOUR GOD DAMN TAIL OR ELSE!” Agnes says through clenched teeth and you stick your ass higher and she stops to see you - yes.
Shaking your butt back and forth only to early a harsh slap to your cunt.
It’s already so sore that you shiver from the sensation.
“Use your asshole stupid dog, come on.” Agnes adds and you understand, you clench your sore ass the best you can only to hear your first words of praise.
“That’s it, that wasn’t so hard puppy. There you go, keep it up.” Agnes adds and you hear skin slapping, the cops breathing changes.
“Don’t-waste it this-timeee.” Agnes grunts harshly and you feel warm splat on your labia, sticking in your pubic hair but not going inside.
Uh-oh.
“Fucking mutt!” Agnes yells and stands up, pushing her dirty hair up her forehead.
You’d failed again, on purpose from your Daddy naturally. How were you meant to catch all her seed when she’d just marked you, not even going inside.
But…did you -did you want her to?
You made whimpering doggie sounds, crying dog noises.
You realized you hadn’t even been deemed worthy of her cock, and so you raised your ass and wagged your tail.
“BAD DOG!, YOU DIRTY FUCKING THING!” Agnes yelled at you louder than another human had ever done.
She stood grabbing her clotches and gun and your eyes doubled in size, she stretched up to the light bulb.
“Sit in here and think about what a bad dog you are, and maybe if you behave I’ll feed you more protein, fucking whore.” Then she clicked the light out and stomped up the steps, you saw the outside for one more second before the cellar doors shut.
And then you were left in the dark, in mud, in cum, with a heavy collar and chain.
Your ass still in the air caked in the cops fluids.
Your tail still up curled, as you cleneched and waged it back and forth.
Desperate to be a good dog.
Agnes + Reader List | Darkfic +DeadDove List | Tip Jar💰 | My Stories MasterList | AO3 | 2026 Trans Pride MasterList
A/N: this is my first fic so I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing! Also english is not my first language <3
Masterlist
——— • ☾ • ————— • ☾ • ————— • ☾ • ———
You honestly didn’t know how it happened, one minute you were screaming at your cheater of a boyfriend and his fucking side chick and the next thing you remember was running out of the house, trying to get away from the flames.
You sighed in relief, finally at home after a long and stressful day at work, your boss was being a bitch again and making you do extra hours just because she feels like it. God how you hated her, you just wanted to go home, have a nice dinner and watch some bad movie with your boyfriend.
As you reached your door, searching for your keys inside of your needlessly big purse you heard a sound coming from inside of the house, making you stop immediately, what was that? Again, another noise, was it… a moan? Pressing your ear to the door you heard it once again… and again… those were definitely moans “what the fuck?” Was he watching porn or something? I mean you couldn’t blame him if he did, you were barely home, but then you heard it, someone moaning his name.
Your heart stopped for a moment, he could not… could he?
With shaky hands and ringing ears you carefully opened the door, the sight of candles all around the hall and into the living room making you shake your head, no, no no no no no, three years, three years of relationship, this couldn’t be happening, right? He wouldn’t throw it all away, not like that, right? Your mind was playing with you, it had to be that.
Slowly, you made your way to said living room, the moans and grunts getting louder, and your heart pace getting quicker, and then you saw it, you were’t crazy, it was really happening “You motherfucker” your hoarse voice causing the room fall silent, your now, ex boyfriend, throwing the blonde girl off his lap, watching as she immediately put her clothes on and ran through the door, you didn’t care a bit about her.
You only focused how he made his way to you, the noises of him trying to talk to you into a pit of lies sounded blurry.
“Honey, it’s not what it looks like I swear” mhm… what a cliche lie,
“It’s her fault! She seduced me” great try, another one,
“I’m so sorry, my love” huh, that was a good one… no,
“It’s not my fault you’re never home to get me off, I had to find someone else!” oh there was it, that son of a bitch.
Everything went red, you weren’t conscious of what you were doing, throwing everything your hands reached at him, screaming how much of a stupid fucker he was, not even trying to hide it, doing it in your own fucking home! And you didn’t realize one of the many things you threw at him was one of the big candles he set, hitting against the curtains.
It happened too fast, there was fire everywhere, and you stood there, frozen in the middle of the living room, staring at the burnt out wall, realizing what a stupid thing you did, I mean you didn’t even love him, you never did, but you trusted him, and you felt fucking betrayed.
It wasn’t until a big flame got into your view you got out of your shock and ran out of the house, a police car already waiting for you.
And now here you were, sat in the interrogation room, leg shaking with anxiety and your heel kicking the floor repeatedly, staring at the door as if someone would appear faster. You’ve been waiting like 20 minutes already, and you knew there was only one person in the police office at this hour so you didn’t understand why she was making you suffer like this.
It’s something she have always loved to do.
As those thoughts ran through your head the door opened, revealing the brunette woman, she leaned against the door after closing it, studying you for a moment, she tried to grasp everything around her head, trying to understand the reason behind all of this “I’m very curious… what made you burn your house down and nearly killing you and your boyfriend?”
You scoffed and the last word “not my boyfriend, not after tonight” your words sounded furious and… painful, you squirmed in the chair, feeling quite uncomfortable “I didn’t mean to ok? You know I’m not that crazy”
Agnes and you had a… situationship in the past, you both wanted more, wanted a serious relationship but her work and schedule were a problem, you barely saw her once a week or two causing you to argue a lot, so you both decided to part ways and stay friends, it was the best for both of you.
Or that’s what you wanted to believe anyway.
The older woman hummed, detaching herself from the door and sitting on the chair in front of you “I know” of course she knew, she knew you weren’t capable of hurting a flower “that’s why I’m asking you”
You looked up at her from your fidgeting hands “I caught that fucker cheating, alright? I-I got furious and started throwing things at him and maybe… accidentally, I threw him a lit candle” replaying the scene in your head you let out a giggle, seeing his stupid face was worth it after all “but honestly Agnes? I don’t regret a thing”
Well… maybe you were a little crazy.
She fought back a smirk, she couldn’t blame you, he deserved it, she always knew that bastard wasn’t good for you, and if she had found out about it before she would have done the same thing, or worse, no one but she can mess with her girl “well, I’m sorry” she wasn’t, at all “but I’m afraid you have to spend the night in the tank”
What? No
No way you were gonna spend a second in that hell hole.
And just like that, an idea crossed your mind, it was risky but you knew very well it would work, for both of you.
“But… Aggie” you whined, looking at her with doe eyes, yes… you were playing that card “you know I’m a good girl” she flinched in surprise, feeling your foot caress her leg under the table.
Those eyes, those fucking eyes.
You were playing a dangerous game, but oh… two can play this game and she hates to lose.
Without saying a word she got up, slowly making her way around the table, you watched her intently, like a prey watching her hunter’s next move, and then suddenly you let out a gasp, she threw your chair back with a kick, caging you between her arms, resting them on each side of the chair.
“Are you? Because I only remember you being a fucking brat” she was so close, so close you could smell her woody perfume, her breath against your face, fuck how you’ve missed her, every smell, every touch, every word of hers.
No one could ever compare to Agnes.
“And I remember you loving it… you loved to fuck the brattiness out of me, you loved to shut me up shoving your dick in my mouth” your hand carefully ran up her leg, watching her breath hitch you never took your eyes off hers, and just as you reached her crotch you felt something hard, making you bite you lip “you haven’t changed a bit Agnes, always packing around with that purple d-”
She didn’t let you finish, grabbing you by the throat, shoving you up and against the wall, earning a huffed grunt from you and grabbing her wrist for support.
There she was, the rough Agnes you always loved, how she lost control of herself because of you, it made you weak on the knees, your mind already fogging into submission, but you had to fight it back, you wanted to test her limits, to totally break her, and let her break you from the inside in return.
On her end she knew she should tease you further, see how far you were capable of going but she was so weak for you, all this time apart from you, trying to find you in other girls but there wasn’t anyone like you, she only wanted you, she needed you, like she knew you needed her.
“You’re playing a dangerous game you know you’ll lose to here, pet”
God, you loved when she called you that, her pet, her plaything, her doll to play around anytime and anywhere she wanted.
No.
Focus.
Break her.
“Is that the best you can do Aggie? Aww, maybe I was wrong, maybe you’ve lost your spark”
Yes, yes, yes, that was the look you were searching for, that rough, primal look that sent you into a subspace without hesitation, you were ready to take whatever she wanted to give you.
Agnes pushed her leg between yours, pressing against your center, watching as your face squirmed in pleasure, she always found it fascinating how she could pull these kind of reactions out of you with such little actions “you really think you’re in control here, hm?”
You both knew the answer, you both knew there was no way you could take control.
“A-Agnes, is this really the place to do this?” Your voice came out hushed and shaky, your mind fighting to get a hold of itself.
The older woman chuckled darkly at your state “oh please, don’t tell me you’re chickening out now doll” and she knew you were right, the interrogation room was no place for this but she knew too neither of you were gonna be capable of waiting another second.
She would deal with the consequences later.
Her hand on your throat loosened, letting you breathe for a bit, they travelled down your figure, stopping on your waist, her eyes burning into yours, you saw her expression change for a moment “you have no idea how much I missed you”
Shit, this wasn’t in your plan.
You gulped, trying to loose the nervous knot in your throat “I missed you too, every fucking day” your voice came out in a whisper, as if you were telling her your deepest secret, and maybe it was.
Agnes pulled you close, her hands tightening around your waist as if you were going to disappear from her grasp, she had to make sure this was real and not just a dream.
Your lips ghosted against hers, your hands caressing her face, eyes still locked on each other, both of you trying to search for any sign of regret “are you sure you want this?” that made you nod eagerly “I need words baby”
“Yes, yes Aggie, I want you… I need you”
And then her lips were on yours, it was slow and sweet at first, both of you trying to savour the moment after all these years apart, but just as a moan escaped your lips Agnes lost it, her tongue asking for entrance licking your lip, you immediately let her, submitting to her, letting her take control of the kiss.
You were always so good to her, always her good girl.
She walked backwards until her legs hit the table turning you both around “up” she simply said patting your hip softly, causing your puffy lips break into a smile, and of course you obeyed her, hopping on the table before grabbing her by the collar and smashing your lips against hers again.
Your impatient hands deciding to rip her flannel shirt after various failing attempts unbuttoning it, the action making the older woman to laugh against your lips “you’re buying me a new one”
You huffed “you have plenty of those, officer” she smirked at the new title.
“Cute, but I like the old title better” her hands making their way into your pencil skirt, stroking your inner thighs, realizing how much she missed your soft and warm skin, how she missed having those thighs around her head, clenching and unclenching with every one of her touch.
“Okay… daddy”
And just with that her whole mind went feral, grabbing the slit of your skirt she ripped it in two, making you gasp and looking at her in disbelief “well, now we’re even” before you could spit back at her she cupped your cunt, your head falling back with a moan “fuck, did I make you this wet, pet?” She bit her lip, rubbing the wet spot on your thong with her fingers.
“You know you always do, even only the thought of you does” That stroked her ego, thinking how you got this messy only thinking of her, after all this time, it made her even more eager to ruin you.
You watched her as she got on her knees, your breath hitching as she travelled your thighs with kisses, pushing your legs apart so she could tease you further but never where you really wanted her.
You knew what she wanted, teasing you like that, playing with the stripes of your thong with her fingers, but you just whined, grabbing her head attempting to push her to your center but she just sat back, looking at you with a raised eyebrow “come on… it’s not that hard to ask me nicely if you want it that bad, doll”
Groaning desperately, your mind trying to fight back the words you just stared at her with heavy breath, her eyes watching your every desperate move, knowing very well the fight that was going on in that pretty head of yours.
And she knew exactly how to get it out of you.
“Do it for me, pet, come on beg for daddy” she then continued with her kisses, now starting from your ankle, watching as you gripped the ends of the table tightly “be a good girl and beg for me to fuck you, sweet thing”
Your jaw hanged low, your eyebrows furrowing in total desperation.
Come on, you just have to say the word.
Be a good girl.
Her good girl.
“Please”
It came out shaky, her kisses stopping to look at you “please, please fuck me Aggie”
Yes, much better.
She had you just where she wanted you “there you are, my good girl”
Then you both rushed to discard your thong and the ripped skirt before she locked your legs around her shoulders, finally burring her head in your center, giving your clit a long lick that had both of you moaning, your hand flying to her hair, pushing her further into you, wanting to feel her even closer.
And she gladly did, wanting to get drunk of your taste, her skilled mouth nipping and sucking on your clit, loving every sound she pulled from you, holding your hips down as they desperately rolled towards her face.
Your back arched into nothing as you felt her two fingers tease your entrance “fuck, daddy please” your submission making the older woman chuckle only of the vibrations to go right to your core, causing you to let out a strangled moan.
And deciding to put your suffering to an end Agnes slowly pushed her large digits inside you, feeling your legs tense around her head, her pace painfully slow, to focused on your face and reactions, your head almost snapping back as she curled her fingers inside of you, making you struggle to breathe at the amount of pleasure she was giving you.
She could never get enough of you, your intoxicating taste and addicting sounds, she could spend the rest of her life between your legs, driving you absolutely mad with just her mouth and fingers, feeling your warm hole, how you clenched and unclenched around her fingers trying to last a little more only to have her like this.
Quickening her pace, her got up, pulling you into a deep kiss as her thumb continued the abuse on your clit, swallowing your whines and moans and letting you taste yourself, her free hand making it’s way inside of your top, finding your nipple and pinching it between her finger, she always loved how you went braless everywhere, making it easier for her to access.
And when she felt your core clench harder, knowing you were already close to your orgasm, all her movements stopped “w-what are you doing?” you whined out, tears threatening to spill from your eyes from the overstimulation.
“Shh, it’s ok” she kissed your temple “open your mouth”
Without hesitating for a second you obeyed, her fingers slipping in, making you instantly close your mouth and suck, watching as her lips parted and pupils darkening in pleasure, your tongue playing with her fingers, cleaning them before she got them out, your mouth letting out a ‘pop’ sound.
She then suddenly pushed you off the table and turned you around, pressing your front against the cold surface, manhandling you in the position she wanted “you better keep your hands there” she said locking your hands on your back.
“I will, daddy” you bit your lip from giggling shaking your ass against the hard bulge in her pants, knowing the effect that action had on the woman.
There was silence for a moment, you could feel her eyes on you, and then-
slap!
You gasped in surprise, your body jumping forward “keep that up and it won’t be the only one” you felt her deep voice right in your ear, her hand caressing you red and itchy bottom cheek.
You couldn’t deny and say you didn’t like it, on the contrary, it felt fucking good, but right now you just wanted her to fuck you raw, so just nodded keeping in mind to bring that side of her another time.
The sound of a belt unbuckling reached your ears, your heartbeat fastening in excitement and your legs rubbing against each other for some friction yes please, please, please, your hands twitched, needing to grab onto something, or to feel her under your touch “keep. them. there.”
It was easy, right?
Wrong.
You swallowed a whine in anticipation, feeling her hand running down your back, stopping on your waist, and just as you felt her rub against your entrance your hands flew to grab the table for support “oh… my poor pet…” she roughly grabbed your wrists, and after a second you felt something cold around them, and then a click “you asked for it”
Did she just put her handcuffs on you? Fuck, you shouldn’t find it as hot as you found it.
She took advantage of that distraction to push herself inside of you, watching your whole body squirm in pain and pleasure while a loud moan escaped your lips, stilling for a moment, letting you adjust to her size, and it only took her seeing your hips start to push back into her to slide out almost entirely before roughly pushing into you again, the table cracking at the action “fuck!”
She kept her rough but slow pace, the sounds of your moans and whines getting louder, oh how she missed having you like this, all fucked out because of her, your little brain only filled with her and the pleasure she was giving you.
You felt her hand interlock into your hair, and in a sudden move your back was flushed against her front, both of you seeing your reflexion in the mirror on the wall “look at you… already so ruined and I just started fucking you” you clenched around the strap, wishing she could feel how your body reacted to her words, but she could see it, she saw how your breath stopped for a second, how your eyes closed with a cute little frown on your eyebrows.
Her free hand made it’s way around your throat, squeezing it just the right amount to make your mind fog, your moans fighting to get out as her pace quickened, but it wasn’t enough, you needed more “p-please” you managed to let out, looking at her through the reflexion.
Just like she could read your mind she removed her hand from your hair and painfully slow travelled down your body, rubbing and pinching your nipple, scratching your lower stomach, before finally making you roll your eyes back, pressing your clit between her fingers, while her dick hit that right spot it had you seeing stars.
The obscene sounds of your skin against hers and your strangled breath turning the older woman on more than she would admit, her praises in your ear as she abused your clit faster “Good girl… you’re doing so good for daddy”
Your legs already shaking, the knot on your lower stomach getting harder to hold “d-daddy please, please let me cum” your almost pornographic moans getting more desperate by the second “fuck- please I’m so close!”
“Cum for me” it only took those words from her to reach your orgasm, your lips parting in an ‘o’ shape, summing all over her strap.
She slowed her pace, helping you through your orgasm, only stopping when your limb body fell on the cold table, making you shudder.
She let you catch your breath for a second, stroking your back up and down before she stood you up again, turning you around to see your fucked out face.
You opened your eyes to look at her smirking face, causing you to chuckle “hi” you whispered, closing the gap between your lips, both of you humming “are you gonna uncuff me now, officer?”
“Not yet” she pecked your lips lovingly again before looking at you, with those demanding eyes “on your knees”
You stared at her for a second, your breath hitching once again in anticipation, and slowly you got on your knees before her, watching her with doe eyes “you know what to do, clean your mess doll” and that you did, your tongue darting out to lick her shaft from the base, never taking your eyes off hers, slowly taking the large, purple dick into your mouth.
Her hand rested on your cheek, her thumb softly wiping away a tear that fell from your eye, her shaft hitting the back of your throat “breathe beautiful, through your nose” she hummed as she held your face down, enjoying having you like this again, your mouth full of her, struggling to breathe and those beautiful tears on your face.
So fucking obedient for her.
When you started to cough around her she finally pulled out, helping you get up, and sitting you on the table while uncuffing you, her lips kissing all over your face as you recovered, your hands fisting on her navy blue tank top as soon as they were free “you did so good for me, sweetheart” she whispered against your lips, making you smile.
“Thank you Aggie”
You rested your forehead against hers, both of you savoring the sweet moment, her hands tightly around your waist in a possessive and protective way.
These were the moments you missed the most, her sweet self taking care of you, making sure you were ok like she didn’t just fuck your brains out a minute ago.
It was almost comical.
“So… officer, am I still spending the night in the tank?” She laughed at that, kissing your forehead softly, you were insufferable.
“Thinking about it… it will be the best if you spend the night at my place” you bit your lip suppressing a smile, you were too excited to wake up in the morning next to the older brunette woman “what do you think?”
“I’d love to” you whispered before pulling her into a loving kiss.
She helped dressing up again, giving you a pair of sweats she had in her office, and when you were gonna leave her office she grabbed you hand, pulling you flush against her.
She stared at you trying to get the words out, you could see the fight she was having in her mind projected in those blue eyes, so you planted a soft kiss on her nose, your hands caressing her cheeks trying to calm her thoughts, and then she said it.
“Be mine”
Your eyes locked, her eyebrows furrowing in worry as you took a second to reply, but when your lips broke into a smile she knew the answer.
butch!agatha accidentally makes reader squirt for the first time and reader really shy and embarrassed about it, only to find that butch!agatha is into it and thinks it's hot
thank you :3
Hey, Anon! I've been letting this brew in my ask and you know what, today is the day to let it see the light. You're very welcome and enjoy!💙🍩
Music inspo: Fight For All The Wrong Reasons - Nickelback, Animals - Nickelback, Next Contestant - Nickelback, Someone That You're With - Nickelback, Just For - Nickelback
Tip Jar💰
*Don't like the warnings? Don't read! 😊
Agnes had been teasing you all day.
From the second you got to work, your phone had blown up with messages from her. Some of them cheesy and stupid; memes that were obviously outdated but still deemed funny by her. This was, you reminded yourself, came from a woman who still had Candy Crush on her phone.
Until those cutesy messages turned dirty real fucking quick.
You had to put your phone screen down on your desk for the rest of the afternoon and prayed that your mind didn't want too far away from you that it would be unbearable.
The last thing you fucking needed was to be caught with your hand down your pants while on the clock because your girlfriend was sending you lengthy descriptive paragraphs about the way she wanted to press her tongue to you and how she wanted to fill you up with her fingers.
It was like walking through a landmine.
You managed to get through the rest of the afternoon without any hiccups. Grabbing your phone from the desk to shove into your coat pocket, you gather up your things to head home for the evening.
Agnes' home.
You had been living with her for just over a month now and you highly doubted you were going to go back to your own little apartment near her favorite coffee shop in Westview.
It was how you had met her.
Knowing your apartment was now sitting empty, you knew that once the least was up you were certain there wasn't going to be a need for renewal.
Agnes O'Connor became a dead-set relationship and there was a very rare chance of going back to a life without her.
You check your phone once more before getting into your car and see a rather recent text from Agnes. You hold your breath as you open it and you swear if you weren't standing beside a hunk of metal on wheels to support you, your knees would have given out.
Agnes had beaten you home.
You don't know how and you don't know why but the image she had sent was almost unbearable and you seriously wondered if you should drive over the speed limit the entire ride home.
You wanted to be devoured by her with nothing left. No notion of time or space; your legs and arms rendered useless. Your brain and mind are a pile of mush in your skull.
Agnes brought out this side of you you had no idea was there; something deep and intimate and innate.
You throw open the car door and get inside. You're out of the work parking lot in seconds and never let your foot ease off of the gas. The image of Agnes in nothing but her flannel shirt and boxers with an obvious bulge behind them, lounging on your side of the bed with what looked to be (even though you knew it in your heart) a pair of your underwear in her hand was just something a little extra.
Something a little daring even for Agnes.
It had only been a little over a month.
You pull up into the driveway in record time; parking and basically jumping out of the car. You leave your work bag on the passenger seat and for once, don't worry about tomorrow.
All you need is lying in wait for you inside of that house in front of you; up the stairs and to the right.
You dig out the key Agnes had made for you and unlock the front door, slam it shut behind you so you know she'll know you're finally home to her.
You kick off your shoes and drop your coat to the ground; the keys in your pocket make a thud. You don't care that you're leaving things in a mess, in a rush. You pull your sweater up over your head before you even hit the stairs to go up.
You leave your bra on however. You know how much she loves pushing her hands up underneath it; grabbing fistfuls in a heated urgency you had never seen in anyone but her.
There isn't any time to fucking waste and you want Agnes to see the urgency in you; the need to be fucked within seconds of walking into her bedroom.
You hear Agnes cough and the slight adjustment on the bed as the box springs creaks in a way that's become familiar to you now. You smile to yourself as you make your way to the door frame and stop before crossing the threshold.
She's exactly how she was in the picture she sent you; the purple pair of underwear still tight in her left fist.
"You're not usually home this early."
"You don't usually send me a picture of yourself that creates an instant wet spot in my underwear but here we are..."
The air in the room was charged and there was no other way around what was about to happen.
Agnes had been dangling a carrot in front of you all goddamn day and you had taken the bait on her final push.
You close the gap from the door to her bed as you get on top of her. It's only then that she realizes you're without a shirt; her eyebrows knitting together and that beautiful crease between her brows reveals.
You lean down towards her to gently kiss that spot and her hands rush up just like you knew they would; fingers wriggling underneath your bra to grab and squeeze and push the fabric away from your skin.
You seethe through your teeth as you suck air and revel in the sensation of her rough hands all over your skin. You lift yourself away from her to get a better look of her underneath you.
You take the time to roll your hips ever so slightly to rub against the bulge in her boxers.
"Fuck..."
Agnes hisses through her teeth as she grabs a little harder and uses the moment to push herself up. She uses her right leg to push against your side to help you roll over onto the bed. You follow her lead and find yourself both underneath Agnes and your bra pushed up over your tits.
The detective doesn't bother helping you remove it as her hands move lower not higher; yanking down your slacks over your ass to get what she really wants.
You feel those same hands that were just on your breasts push past the band of your underwear because you know the detective needs to see for herself if you were lying or not.
You watch it with utmost pleasure as her expression changes over to something you can only describe as pleased.
Her fingers had made contact with your wet cunt; fingers dragging over your skin and the wet patch in the crotch of your underwear.
"You really couldn't wait until you got home, huh?"
"It was a wet drive."
Agnes snorts through her nose as she pulls her hand out from your underwear and brings that hand up to her mouth. She licks herself clean and pretends not to notice the moan that's escaped your lips.
She keeps pushing you over that edge and she knows you love it.
Same hands, now wet from her saliva and your cum, pull your underwear down to meet your pants. Agnes shifts lower down your body; no longer directly on top of you know. Her body bends, folds low and her head dares to disappear between your thighs.
She looks up at you with those icy blue eyes and you moan again in response; your hips rolling towards her face with impatience.
"I want your fucking tongue inside of me..."
Your words are whispered but rushed; full of desperation as you continue to grind against the open air. You don't care how this makes you look or sound but the mere image of Agnes eating you out after the day you've had of dodging her horny texts was more than enough to plead for this release.
And she gave it to you because that was also part of the game she was playing.
Her left hand held your left thigh and pushed it wider so she could get her face properly aligned. The crown of her head and elastic that held her messy ponytail were all you could see from your angle as you felt her warm breath tickle your wet skin.
You knew this was going to fucking destroy you.
You knew you wanted this more than anything else in the world.
Agnes doesn't start with niceties as she closes her lips over your clit and starts to suck. Your hips buck in sudden reaction to the sensation that is almost too much all at once.
Sometimes Agnes would tease for hours until it felt like you were going to burst. This evening however, she went in right for the goddamn kill.
You keep your hips in motion as you grip onto the sheets beside you; knuckles turning white while your face blushes red. You let go of the deep breath you've been holding and feel your thighs start to shake under her grip; against the side of her head.
The messy hair that falls from her ponytail tickles the inside of your thigh but it's all overshadowed by the way her lips and tongue continue to work. The suction only increases and grows more desperate; rough in its nature.
You hear Agnes breath heavily in through her nose before she lifts her head and breathes out through her mouth; gasping for fucking air before she bows her head back down to shove her tongue up your cunt.
You had been lucky you were looking down at her.
You hadn't missed the sheen that coated her lips and chin.
"Ohmyfuckinggod...Agnes...fuck..."
Your eyes close and your head falls back and the image of how messy Agnes is when she eats you is enough to almost send you over the edge.
The muscles in your body burn and your legs can't stop shaking. You need so desperately to let go, to come all over her face but you can't.
Not yet.
You still want to relish in how fucking good Agnes' tongue feels deep inside of you; licking and coaxing you. Tasting you and only you on her tongue.
You feel her shift ever so slightly and that grab at your thigh turns to her nails digging into your soft skin. You whine loudly, desperately at the sudden infliction of pain.
You push your thighs a little harder against the side of her face as retaliation for her roughness.
She only uses that as an excuse to go deeper; as deep as she possibly can. Her nose is pressed against your skin and now and again, rubs against your already engorged and oversensitive clit.
The throbs of light start up behind your eyelids as your body goes rigid; the pressure in your body is no longer able to contain itself.
Your release is nothing like you've ever had before.
You sit up to watch, half in horror and the other in curiosity.
The wetness between your legs and underneath you, now soaking through the sheets, was nothing you had ever felt before.
Not this much, not this wet.
You feel the warmth across your face and realize it's not a fluster of arousal but shame. Your hands release from the sheets to come up and try to hide your eyes as you both feel and hear Agnes lifting up from between your legs.
You don't want to see her expression; afraid that you had done something embarrassing.
The gentle tap on the inside of your thigh gives you the courage to pull your hands away and look at your girlfriend.
"Did you know you could do that?!"
Agnes is out of breath as her words fly out from her mouth. She's soaked; the sheen is no longer visible. Instead, it looks as if she's simply splashed water over her face.
"...I'm not even sure what I just did...what the fuck was that? I've never done that before! I swear!"
Frantic, your voice raises higher in pitch as you sit up a little more. Everything in your body is telling you to run and hide. There's no coming back from this now.
"Never, ever?"
Agnes' tone doesn't sound mad or even disgusted and it's from that you start to slowly settle down. Your heart still hammers away but there's at least a glimmer of hope as Agnes raises up from between your legs and gives you the slyest, coyest grin as she licks her lips.
"Ever."
Agnes breathes hard through her nose as she nods her head and you can see from the look in her eyes that she's quite literally gathering up her strength to bow back down and start it all up again.
"Fuck, Baby...I didn't take you for a fucking squirter but holy fuck, that was hot."
Your mouth opens to try and formulate some sort of explanation, some sort of response but you're met with those daring blue eyes before they disappear back down along with the rest of Agnes between your legs.
can i request a eugene ottinger x reader where eugene confesses to reader? TYTYY!!!
𝒞onfess your love 𓂃 Eugene ottinger
𝒲arnings ─ DUMB eugene ─ short ─ fluff
𝒜bout ─ Eugene confesses
Your hands clutched the crinkled letter in your hands─signed by the infamous Eugene Ottinger. A small flush appeared on your cheeks─your lips moving upwards with each heartfelt word you read. Crosses covering his notorious spelling errors.
Eugene has never had a girlfriend—nor had he been any close to having one.
So after questioning Enid multiple times. He came up with a cute tooth rotting way to confess. A crumbled letter stuffed into the sleeve of your backpack.
“Eugene!” you scanned the classroom for a sign of the boy who had just blankly confessed. Yet─all that remained was his shadow following him out the room─steps echoing through the rabid halls of nevermore.
You puffed your cheeks—letting out a rather dramatic sigh.
Your gaze shifted downwards towards the letter in your hand─before shifting to the seat Eugene hand sat in.
How was he going to confess and then leave you─alone.
“Ahem!” Professor Orrlof, cleared his throat─demanding for your attention. “Class is dismissed!” His wrinkled lips formed into an unreadable sneer.Your clenched your backpack string─throwing the rather heavy bookbag over your shoulder—storm fully trotting out the dusty classroom.
Two hours after the confession letter came lunch─your eyes scanned the outside benches where Eugene normally found himself seated on, yet he was nowhere to be seen. It seemed as if the boy had ceased to exist. Since looking for him was no help─you had decided to go for direct confrontation.
“Pugsley!” You called out from across the hall—contracting you a few stares
.Pugsley stopped in his tracks─moving his head towards the source─you.
“Yes?” he questioned─a hand on his hip as his other hand clutched his Álgebra book.
“Have you seen Eugene?"
“Oh yeah, he's taking care of slur─Our plant for science"
Your brows formed into a furrow─doubting the words of the boy in front of you.─Yet you weren't going to waste your dignity over some honesty.
So, you resorted to camping out in his dorm─though that would most likely get you in grave trouble.
After the tiring class─you stepped confidently through the dorm halls, feet tapping against the carpeted floors─than Eugene's door. Clenching the door rusted door handle. closing your eyes shut.
“It's me, ____. Can I come in?” you questioned hesitantly─putting your ear intentively as rattles and buzzings echoed through your auricle.
“Y─yes!” Eugene stumbled over his words nervously, causing a hushed chuckle to flee your lips.
You twisted the doorknob─sliding the door open. “I like you too” A slight flush appeared on your cheeks─avoiding eye contact with Eugene, who seemed to be frozen in place.
AA SORRY I TOOK LONG TO DO UR REQUEST LIFE IS HArd! If you sent a request I'll do it. dont worry just a little busy.
Summary: You drunk dial Agnes from a party in the middle of the night. She comes to find you.
Warnings: Drunk reader, dead mom, mentions of physical abuse, age gap, suicidal ideation, hurt/comfort, Agnes to the rescue
—————————
The fight with your step-father had been loud, ugly. He was drunk when he walked in the door. Drunk when he saw you standing in the kitchen, looking so much like his dead wife that he could hardly breathe.
“What are you doing here?” His keys hit the countertop like a shot. You flashed him a wry smile, the one he hated.
“I live here.” You took a swig of your beer, regarding him with undisguised disdain.
“Watch it.” He gritted his teeth, clinging to his fury like a lifeline. “Your mom ain’t around to protect you anymore, smartass.”
His words were corrosive, like acid, spilling out of his mouth. Except they didn’t seem to burn him. Just you. Always you.
“She never protected me in the first place—“
He backhanded you across the face, something he had never done before, and you staggered into the wall. For a second, his eyes widened with regret. He opened his mouth. Probably to apologize. But you were out the door before he could speak. And something in you snapped.
You were tired of living like this. Walking on eggshells. Sidestepping his grief like it mattered more than yours. And now he was smacking you around like a dog?
“Fuck this,” you growled.
Your mom was dead. She wasn’t coming back. And you had finished undergrad at the end of last summer. There was nothing left for you here. Nothing except Agnes, a little voice in your brain reminded you. But even that’s gone now.
You drove until your heart stopped hammering. First to a bar. There you had a couple drinks and calmed down enough to call a buddy up. The kind that always answered. He invited you to a house party. Seedy side of town. You smiled. What could go wrong?
A few hours later you were stumbling across the front porch, weaving between faceless nameless strangers, too fucked up to drive, almost too fucked up to walk. You squeezed your eyes together, willing the floor to stop tilting.
You couldn’t help but laugh at yourself. “Stupid fucking idiot.”
——————
Agnes was in bed, staring at the ceiling. Like most nights, she was thinking about you. The shy sloping curve of your smile first thing in the morning, your real smile. The one that most people never got to see. The tight bundle of muscles in your lower back, the way they constrcited and shivered when she ran her fingers over your hips.
There were few nights that didn’t involve some version of this ritual, a worship of sorts, as if she could keep protecting you and loving you from a distance.
The sound of her phone ringing roused her from the reverie. She groped in the darkness, expecting the gruff voice of her chief. No good news at this hour.
“Agnes?”
As soon as she heard your voice, she sat upright in bed. In the darkness, it was easy to imagine you were right beside her. Safe and warm. But hearing your voice was like a bucket of ice water — a rude awakening to the reality that you were out there somewhere on your own.
“What’s wrong?” She strained to listen you over the sound of shouting, laughing, music, the thud of her own heartbeat. “Where are you?”
“I don’t know,” you said, fighting the wild urge to laugh.
“What time is it?” She murmured, reaching out to look at the alarm clock on her nightstand.
“Late,” you said, a flood of guilt pooling in your stomach like acid. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have called. Go back to bed.”
“Wait!” The detective clutched her phone, gut-punched by the sound of your voice after so many weeks. She didn’t hear the click of the phone. The call was still live. Your breathing on the other end of the phone was shaky. She realized you were crying.
“I fucked up,” you whispered, voice hitching in your chest as you swallowed back a sob. “I always fuck everything up.”
A cold prickling sensation skittered across the back of Agnes’s neck. She was suddenly wide awake.
“Slow down,” she said. “What happened?”
You kept rambling, like you hadn’t heard her question.
“I know I’m not supposed to call you anymore. Not supposed to….need you.”
“What. Happened.” She repeated the words, firm and slow, willing you to calm down. Your breathing got even more jagged, uneven.
“It doesn’t matter,” you said, wiping your eyes with your sleeve. “This was a bad idea.”
“Tell me where you are,” she said, voice shaking as she struggled to remain calm. “I’ll come get you, take you home.”
“I can’t go home,” you said, laughing bitterly. “My dad — Paul kicked me out.”
She knew that things were contentious between you two even before your mom died, and that her death had shattered something in him. A few times she’d been called to pick him up from bars in the area, drunk and disorderly. But kicking his kid out on the street?
“We fought,” you whispered, the words slipping out as you slumped down onto the porch steps.
She paused, cradling the phone against her shoulder, halfway through pulling on a pair of jeans.
“What do you mean, you fought?” She tried to keep the anger out of her voice.
“He was drunk,” you said, sniffling a bit. The side of your face suddenly throbbed, his handprint lingering there. “Probably won’t remember. It doesn’t matter. I’m leaving. For good.”
“You’re not going anywhere,” she said, voice low and certain. “I’m coming to get you.”
You smiled, tears gathering in the corner of your eyes. Of course that would be her reaction. Knight in shining armor, always coming to your rescue. “Not this time.”
Agnes swiped her keys off the table.
“Yes this time.” she said. Every time, she thought. “Now tell me where you are.”
You let out a shaky breath, trying to resist her instructions. Agnes always had this effect. Making it seem like everything would be ok once she stepped on the scene—whether it was a murder, a kidnapping, a domestic dispute, or an ex-situationship with a fucked up family.
“It’s not your job to protect me anymore,” you said. On shaky legs you stood up and wandered toward the edge of the property. The woods were dark and quiet.
“If you really believed that, you wouldn’t have called.” Her voice was impossibly gentle, laced with concern. You hated that she was right, that something in you still needed her so desperately.
“I just wanted you to know how much it meant to me, having you there. When I needed someone. After…after my mom died,” you whispered. “And I didn’t want you to worry when you heard I was gone. Not that you would. I know we …broke up or whatever. And you don’t want to see me.”
Agnes closed her eyes. The way things had ended between you was messy. And she knew it was her fault. She had wanted to protect you. You were too young to get mixed up with a cop like her, all rough edges and barely healed scars. So she had pushed you away, hoping that you’d move on. Clearly that had backfired. Nice one, O’Connor.
“But I am worried,” she said. “You’re drunk. You’re not thinking clear.”
She didn’t like any of this. The late night call. The shaky way you were talking. The bad feeling intensified as she replayed your words in her head. Leaving. For good.
On the other end of the line, you shuddered at the low, soothing sound of her voice. Wanting to give into it.
“I shouldn’t have called,” you said, unsure who you were trying to convince. “It was selfish of me.”
Agnes was already in her car, turning the key in the ignition. She paused, not sure what to say. “You called me because you need a friend right now.”
You laughed bitterly. That word, friend, slashed through the cobwebs in your head, lodging itself like a knife in your brain. “Is that what we are? Friends?”
Agnes felt her breath catch. She didn’t know how to respond. Before she could, you made a small noise. Something between a shiver and a cough. Your voice was smaller, more defeated when you spoke again.
“See ya around, Detective.”
“Wait-“
The line clicked as you ended the call. Agnes whipped the phone away from her head, immediately redialing your number. It went straight to voicemail.
“Fuck,” she said, clenching the phone so hard that her knuckles turned white. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
She almost flung her cell at the windshield, heart hammering, tears of frustration pricking the corners of her eyes. At the last minute, she restrained herself. Then she remembered. She had enabled Find My iPhone for you last summer. Purely as a safety precaution. After the breakup, she’d never disabled it.
She swiped the app open and waited for the map to load.
“Come on, come on,” she growled, impatience flooding her.
When your location materialized and she realized what side of town you were on, Agnes swore. She knew it for all the wrong reasons. Throwing the car into reverse, she pealed out of the driveway and sped off in a cloud of smoke.
—————-
You hung up the phone and started walking. Down one dimly lit street, then another, zigzagging through the neighborhood with no real destination in mind. It was cold. Walking kept you relatively warm.
Eventually you came to a place you recognized. For a moment you couldn’t place it, your brain a drunken jumble of numbness and fatigue. Then it clicked. The Bridge of Promises.
The bridge was small, spanning the deepest part of the river. In high school, kids used to congregate here. Boys would bare their chests and leap from the railing, aiming for a narrow canyon below, a place where the water ran deep enough not to get you killed. It was a rite of passage, a test of courage. On the banks, everyone held their breath, waiting for each jumper to resurface. And when they did, the cheers of exhilaration and relief would echo around the gully.
Tonight, the bridge was quiet. You wandered to the center and leaned against the metal lattice, studying the railing that gave the bridge its name.
It was covered in etchings—some carved with knives, others traced with sharpie or spray paint—bearing hundreds of initials. It was another rite of passage. The bridge had become an emblem of devotion, a way for local teens to declare their love, their commitment.
Your first boyfriend had insisted that you both add your names to the mix. It had been on a night nothing like this one, warm and calm. Everything had been simpler then. Your mom wasn’t even sick yet. Your boyfriend had been sweet. He loved you. He climbed onto the railing in the moonlight, hoping to find a clear place in the crowded metal beams. It was reckless, romantic, all the things you wanted back then. Tipping your head back, you thought you could just make out the shape of the heart he had drawn.
Casually, not letting yourself question the decision, you placed one foot on the bar at the base of the rail and hoisted yourself upward. The wind surged, blowing your hair off your face in a gust that felt like a warning. But you weren’t scared.
You climbed with your mouth fixed in a grimace of concentration, until you were standing upright on top of the railing. The drop seemed even more dizzying from up here. Below you could hear the water rushing past. One wrong move and you could just slip into the darkness, get swallowed. Would that really be so bad?
You shivered, then turned your attention back to the bridge, fingers tracing the hieroglyphs, searching for the familiar letters. Your name and his name. Was it still there? Or had years of rain and snow and sunshine worn it away?
The roar of a car engine brought you out of your reverie. The sound was loud, guttural, like the person behind the wheel was mad with impatience. You saw the beam of headlights appear first, around the bend in the road. Then the rest of the vehicle came flying into view, and you swore you saw the wheels lift off the ground.
You watched the headlights approach, getting bigger and brighter so that you almost had to shield your eyes. You expected the car to race right past you. But then there was a screech as the driver slammed on the brakes, and the car came skidding to a halt in the middle of the bridge. Then whoever was at the wheel flung the door open and stepped out into the frigid air.
“Agnes?!” Your voice was hoarse from the cold.
You stared at her, a million questions running through your mind—what are you doing here, how did you find me—but one bubbled to the surface before you could stop it.
“What the hell are you doing, you’re going to get yourself killed!”
The other woman didn’t answer. In fact, she hadn’t moved from her place beside the car.
“Funny,” she said, her voice oddly tight. “I was going to ask you the same thing.”
Slowly, she moved away rom the car. In the dim light, you could see she was wearing an oversized sleep shirt beneath her denim jacket and a pair of cotton joggers. The sight of her like this—totally disheveled, hair wild and tangled in the wind—made your chest ache. She took a few more hesitant steps around the car, approaching you cautiously.
“Come down from there.” You narrowed your eyes. Was she crying? “Please.”
It was the last word that knocked the breath out of you. Because Agnes never asked politely. Hell, she never asked at all. She bulldozed her way through everything—work, relationships, sex. But now here she was, looking absolutely wrecked, like she would grovel if it meant getting you safely in her arms.
“I’m not gonna…,” you mumbled, feeling suddenly embarrassed and guilty for making her worry. “This isn’t what it looks like.”
“Really?” Agnes barked out a laugh that could have been a sob, swiping a hand across her cheek and sniffing loudly to hide the emotions that were running roughshod through her body. She cleared her throat, reaching out toward you. “Then take my hand, and let me drive you home.”
Agnes was maybe five feet away now. Close enough that she could see you shiver at the mention of home.
“Not to him,” she clarified, eyes flickering to the ugly bruise on your face. With tremendous difficulty, she swallowed back her own fury. She wanted her voice to be calm and clear when she said this next part. “You don’t ever have to go back to that house. I shouldn’t have let you stay there in the first place. Shouldn’t have…”
She trailed off, her eyes glimmering strangely in the night.
“I shouldn’t have done a lot of things,” she added softly.
You knew feelings were hard for Agnes. She just wasn’t wired that way, had difficulty being vulnerable enough to express anything soft or sweet. And so you had learned to recognize her tells, the little signs that she was trying, really trying to tell you how much you mattered to her. And this was undoubtedly one of those times. You could tell by the determined set of her jaw, the unflinching honesty in her gray eyes.
You swallowed around the lump in your throat, gesturing up at the maze of inscriptions.
“Did you ever write your name on this bridge?” Your words were hushed, almost like you didn’t want to know the answer. “Make a…promise to anyone special?”
A look of impatience flashed across the other woman’s features. You couldn’t tell if it was because the question offended her—even as a teenager, it was hard to imagine Agnes O’Connor having time for romance—or because she was so anxious to get you back on solid ground. But in the next second, that look was gone and she schooled her features back into something tender.
“No,” she said, rolling her shoulders a little. “You?”
“Yeah.” You nodded. “But I can’t find it now. Must have…faded away.”
Your voice had this distant, detached quality to it that Agnes didn’t like. You were normally so warm, so alive, so animated. The entire drive across town she’d been able to think of little else besides the feeling of your skin against hers, so soft and perfect, or the way your lips tasted; she must have made about a dozen promises to whatever god existed, offered a lifetime of good deeds for the chance to touch you like that again.
“You’re making me very nervous, kid.” Agnes shuffled a little closer. Seeing you like this—subdued, muted, flat—was making her skin crawl. She needed to touch you, hold you, press you against her chest. “Now get down here before —“
Another gust of wind suddenly surged up. It happened so unexpectedly that you barely had time to grip the cable extending above the beam. You thought you heard Agnes shout something but you couldn’t be sure. The thunder of your own blood surged in your ears as your back foot slipped and you felt yourself overbalance. Holy shit, you thought. This is how I’m going to die? Falling off the goddamn Bridge of Promises??
Then Agnes was there, her strong hand gripping your arm. She grunted as she caught your weight, hauling you back over the edge of the railing and onto solid ground.
Together you collapsed against the cold, hard pavement in a tangle of limbs—your legs threaded together, her arms wrapped tight around your waist, drawing in shaky lungfuls of air.
Agnes was the first to sit up. She lifted you bodily, gripping your shoulders and turning you toward her.
“What the hell were you thinking?” She demanded. Then in the next breath: “Are you hurt?”
It was the kind of question that couldn’t be satisfied with a verbal response. Instead, you let her run her hands over your body, examining you for injuries, getting her own proof, collecting evidence that you were alive, safe, unharmed. You slumped against her, submitting to the inspection. She tucked your head against her chest, absently stroking her long fingers through your hair. Then you felt her touch ghosting down over your cheekbone, and your eyes fluttered open.
“Let me look at you,” she murmured, gripping your chin and turning your head toward the light of the street lamp. She inhaled deeply, and you realized she was trying to stay calm.
“He did this?”
You nodded.
“I’ll kill him,” she breathed, eyes fierce and bright. As if to underscore her point, she withdrew a small tactical knife from her boot.
Your lips quirked up, teasing. “That’s your murder weapon? Not very efficient.”
You felt rather than saw Agnes smile. It was obvious in the way her shoulders loosened, and her fingers twitched against your hips. You knew all her little tells.
“Ha ha ha,” she said sarcastically, but there was something else in her tone. Something almost shy. You glanced up to find her face just a few inches from yours. “No, this is for something else. Something I need to do before we go home.”
Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she flicked her wrist, extending the blade. It caught the light from the high beams, glimmering strangely. Agnes licked her lips and leaned just past you, expertly maneuvering the tip against the metal of the bridge. Her face was set in a look of concentration, and you couldn’t help but admire the handsome line of her jaw, the fine muscles in her neck.
“What do you think?”
You blinked, feeling like you’d been caught staring. “What do I think about what?”
Agnes grinned, cocksure and gorgeous. A few moments later, she leaned back and inspected her handiwork.
“My masterpiece,” she said, tilting her head to the side. You followed her gaze and felt your breath catch in your throat.
There, in the center of the beam, were your first and last initials. She had etched them neatly into the metal in her perfect handwriting. And then, right beside them, two more small letters: A.O.
“That’s you and me, kid,” she said, voice rough with some emotion you couldn’t name.
You didn’t say anything. You couldn’t. Your entire world had narrowed to the sight of those four little letters, jumbled together at the base of the bridge. You could have stared at them forever.
She caught your jaw between her thumb and forefinger, turning you away from the bridge. Slowly, tenderly, Agnes pressed her lips to yours. Like an apology. Like a promise.
“You and me,” she repeated softly. “Okay?”
And even though you were both safely on the ground, the question made your stomach swoop, and the sensation felt like free-falling, like leaping over the edge into the darkness, aiming for the narrow target below, hoping neither of you got dashed upon the rocks in the process.
You smiled against her mouth, then nodded once. If Agnes was willing to be brave, you’d be right there beside her.
“You and me.” The words left your mouth in a sigh. “I like the sound of that.”
