A Minute From Home But I Feel So Far From It (Chp3 Repost)
Can you finally forgive Agatha? Let her in, let this sadness be held by two? [Agatha/Reader/Rio] Enchanted Engagement Ring AU
Previous Chapters *MasterList | AO3 | My MasterList | My Old Blog
Warnings: Warnings : Mental Health Healing/ Hurt & Comfort / Smut / G!P/ Magic Orgasm Denial / Blowjobs / Sexual Humiliation / AfterCare / Poor Rio / Agatha X Reader focus / Nicky Grief / Agatha fights for you / Agatha Dom / Mommy Kink / Sexual Submission as Therapy / BDSM / Dick Magic Piercing /Pos&jealousy kink / Protective kink / Edging Kink / P2V Sexy / Magical Engagement Ring / Smutty smut with accidentl magic/ Both have purple ma| gic / Soulmates (later in plot) / PTSD Healing / Anal Rimming / Theraputic Bullshit with Cum / Sadism&Masocist / Sexual Torture is Yummy / Vouyer Kink /Flutter Nutters are marshmewllow and peanut butter get your head out of the gutter! / 18+ MDNI
Your hand reaches out to feel the spot next to you is still warm. But your Aggie isn’t in her spot. Blinking a few times, you hear light music and water. Agatha is taking a shower. You slept better than you had in a month. No nightmares, neither Agatha’s nor yours, filled your head. You can really hear Agatha’s music now as you blink away your morning calm. The bathroom door is cracked open. A habit of Agatha’s after so long being with you.
Your witch liked to hear you. You could only ever compare it to the comfort someone gets from hearing their childhood home creak and breathe. And you are forever grateful that Agatha didn’t close any doors, not emotionally or physically. Always a waiting invitation: “Ask and you shall receive.”
The intimacy of open doors, you missed this. In the morning glow, you listen as you find yourself craving the safety of Agatha. A safety you hadn’t forgotten no matter how hard you’d tried. Knowing her body was home, that her bare feet made the wood creak of your house. That was a craving you couldn’t tell your coven. It sounded crazy to say - as your palm held the warm spot your lover had left. That you needed Agatha Harkness, and you felt shame for your indulgence.
Agatha repeated the same song - she’d started listening to music while showering with you. You told her it helped your ADHD time blindness, and she just quirked an eyebrow, confused at your terminology. But you’d shut her up by turning up your boombox and taking off your bra. After that Agatha never questioned your methods for shower tunes again. But as Agatha repeated the song, you felt it must have some significance -your ears perked up to listen for the lyrics now.
I like the way you touch my face
I like the way your fingers taste
In my mouth and in my heart
I like the way you shift your gaze
Pull me back when I run away
And I guess (I guess)
You were always right
I'd love you (Love you)
Until the day I die
So, go easy on me
I still love you, baby
I'd still kill for you
I would kill for you
The song carries you, as though it was written for how Agatha feels about you. You crack an eye open just enough to gaze down at your familiar, Mr. Nosferatu. The giant Irish Wolfhound’s jowls flapped as he snored lightly, good no rush to get up. His tender paw pads are twitching, and then his paw would kick against the sheet. Like your sweet boy was attempting to catch a smaller creature, ah, the chase. You roll on your side to look at the clock, it’s almost noon. Okay, so not morning light, you’d slept way later than you thought possible. Agatha must have fed your dog, because there was no way he’d sleep this long without her care.
Tell me, what do you need?
Tell me who I should be
Who I'll kill for you
I would kill for you
You can’t help but give a sad smile at the lyrics. Agatha always tells you she’d do things the Darkhold couldn’t dream of, sinister things, if you just crooked your finger at her - just so. And more than a few times she’d gotten into horrendous amounts of trouble in your honor. Witch hunters, vampires, ghouls, someone cutting you off in traffic. It didn’t matter - Agatha stepped in. Mortals, Witches, and antient creatures died very painful deaths in the name of her love for you. And Lilia swore she was in fifty lifetimes of debt to Agatha. You’d never had someone love you enough to commit murder; it was kinda intoxicating.
I like the way you curse my name
Never knowing what each day will bring
I guess that you were right
And pardon my mistake
I'll never be
The one that got away
So, go easy on me
You're still all that I see
I would kill for you
You really should get up, go make coffee, check on Senior Scratchy and Nos could use a walk.. and..and…
You fell back asleep, into a deep, deep sleep once more. You don’t feel Agatha get back into bed, you don’t hear her go into your shared closet. Or notice her on your side table looking through books you recently tried ot read - so she could pick one out. Or even call Lilia and text the coven to know that you were okay - just resting today. You don’t see the labor she puts in. But you sleep deep, because you do know in the depths of your soul - that Agatha will take care of you.
When you wake again the curtains are drawn - as an attempt to not wake you. But the light peeks through like Helios himself wants to run his fingers through your hair and remind you that there is a gorgeous day outside if you just reach for it.
But you rub your nose into the pillow case, and to your delight you smell Agatha. So you pat your hand out with your eyes closed to feel a familiar tummy, you scoot closer to the comforting warmth of your fiancé's body heat. Agatha makes a little surprised noise, but opens her arm on instinct for you to lay against her right breast and re-adjust. Tossing a leg over her own, and securely velcrowing yourself to her side. Body pressed against body like two sides of an envelope.
Agatha’s body is tense until you rub your cheek against the delicate cotton of your shared sleep shirt. And then she can’t help but melt like marshmallow against decadent cocoa.
How strange to find home in someone's arms.
Agatha’s body relaxes as your thumb against her hip rubs back and forth without a rhythm to be found.
“Are the boys okay?” Your voice cracks - dry in your throat, resembling the old paper between Agatha’s fingers.
“Oh yes, Senior Scratchy wouldn’t stop squealing so I had to put Nos in the same room for them to snuggle by the backdoor.” Agatha’s voice is attempting a neutral - off handed - type of tone. But you clearly sense the depth of relief in the in-between gaps of her words. You move your nose closer to her collarbone and Agatha’s neck tendon flinches just a bit.
You know it’s not because she doesn’t want the touch, but she’s waiting. Like an old hound by the front door keeps it’s nose in the air - wanting - wanting for his master to return. Yet still the old dog barks anytime the wind shifts.
Agatha wanted to devour you, but she was holding herself back by the tips of her fingernails.
“What are you reading?” You say with your eyes still closed. The soft shuffle noise of a paperback being turned over fills the space before your human pillow responds softly:
“Ned Vizzini.”
You don’t need her to tell you the title. ‘It’s Kind of A Funny Story.’ Was a book you’d been reading for the past three weeks. Finding it hard to put down, but also difficult to read in large chunks. Too similar to a trigger warning and yet scratching your brain with feeling seen by the author.
“Bunny?”
“Hmm?” You move so that your face is pressed into her skin, nose down like an animal smelling where home was. Two lefts past the oak tree or more akin to - under the small freckle of Agatha’s shoulder, taking a right at the tiny scar by the swell of her breast where a thorn from a rose bush had mauled her. Or the tiny zigzag pattern by her right fourth rib, where Nicky had tripped by the river. And Agatha had caught him. Or maybe if you were contemplating this map - your lovers right shoulder where two cresents could still be found. After a trip to Barcelona, where you had made love outside during Mabon. You’d apologized after - and Agatha had only pounced on you, happy to wear a mark from your teeth.
You could find your way home with your eyes closed.
“What do I need to do?” She asked and now, one of your eyes shoots open, blood shot and confused. Your chin lifts and then rests on her chest. You blink wearily but try to grapple at the straws she just laid at your feet.
Agatha’s eyebrows are furrowed and she is conflicted, upset, and her jaw was tight. She wasn’t reaching out to touch you - afraid you’d run.
“What?”
“What do I need to do to…to- damn it.” Harkness's veiny hand snaps to cover her eyes. Like she’s covering the window to her soul - shielding herself from your prying gaze. Not ready to be read like yesterdays newspaper.
You reach out to set your hand on top of her own. Keeping the shielding over her eyes - like you are condoning the tiny bit of safety she’s finding in her hiding place. Not ripping her digits away - a crowbar to a menial comfort.
And Agatha’s shoulder drop two inches, a physical relief at your deeply ingrained understanding of your partner.
Your permission, your hand, it calmed her down to say the full thought. Evanora had really done a number, even from the grave. For Agatha’s ability to communicate in times of deep self-consciousness.
“What do I need to do…to keep you safe.”
Your hand slowly moved off of her own, and dread pooled into your stomach equivalent to a pirate ship taking on water. Agatha had been the kraken and now you would sink.
You moved away from her, off of her body, to the corner of the bed. Upset with yourself for being so blind, you should not have sucked comfort from Agatha like this. Selfishly soaking her in, her presence, her music, the soft morning, her solid mass in bed next to you. The body heat, the song of her fingers turning pages. Your Agatha Harkness, you stupid bitch.
Your eyes blur and you go to run, to jump off the bed, time to retreat.
You would lose this war, as you lost every battle, how could you be so stupid.
You did not deserve good, no good things.
That’s when strong hands collided with your arms, and at first your thoughts fooled you. Believing, thanks to PTSD, that you were once again in the shadow relm, walking. That these hands meant you harm, and you screamed and tried to vein to free yourself.
Only for Agatha’s body to press tightly against your own.
“No, no, I got you. You are here. I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you.” Agatha’s voice broke and reality filtered back into you, much like a coma patient comes back to the hospital bed. Panic and trauma using you, as though you were a ping pong and they were giggling with their paddles.
“I’m so sorry.”
“No, you don’t have to apologize. I shouldn’t have - I mean I.” Agatha choked, perhaps she was still in the pirate ship, drowning under the weight herself. Not aware that the creature and the captain go down with the ship.
Maybe that was something you had never entertained. That in your self-punishment, your self-loathing, this self-flagellation you’d inflicted on your skin.
You’d strapped your lover too, sweet Agatha, in your spiral down to the depths. The ones you cared for you, you didn’t allow them in, to care. To fucking help you. And so as Agatha’s body held you tight, as her voice had cracked. You couldn’t help but contemplate in this raw space, that her body did not shake.
Her grip was firm.
Her purpose resolute.
And you had tried to carry the entirety of the load for yourself. This shame the only bedfellow you’d allowed to sleep next to you.
In your depression, your pain, you’d kicked the people who loved you out of the space you occupied. Allowing only the giant monster of your illness to sit with you for as long as it pleased.
Tears fell because your body wouldn’t listen, only betraying you. And you gasped in horror.
You’d helped your monster, you’d given your mental illness the knife, and lifted your shirt, with a perfect ‘carve here’ sign.
And your Mom, your friends, and coven, your godson, your familiar…your best friends. They were all banging at the door to get in. And they knew, because they weren’t stupid, that you had locked it.
Agatha couldn’t take it all away, but in kicking her out, in breaking up your relationship….You’d only fed the monster. And Agatha refused to let you slip quietly into the night.
Your lip quivers, yet you recite the poem Agatha knows too.
“Inside me lives this Beast, that makes me so strong.
It's the one that you left there, when I was so young.
I've looked in your Eyes, so vivid, so Blue.
I look in the Mirror, those Eyes I see too.
A long rocky Road travelled; one I'll never forget.
But I'd walk it again gladly, without any regret.
Along it I found Family and Friends, whom I love and adore.
And It's all thanks to that Path that began at your Door.
You were always that Beast, that made me so strong.
And you still live in my Heart, where you belong.”
It’s not for Agatha, it’s for you, it’s for your own monster. And Agatha pulls back and grips your face tight.
“What can I do? What can I do?” She repeats, and you wonder if she begged Rio like this for Nicky. Of course she did, and now your favorite person was begging you.
“Stay.” You whisper it so quietly, you aren’t sure you even said it. But Agatha’s heart beat faster and her entire demeanor exuded a sense of purpose, a fight for you. And it hurt to know that fight was never gone. You just hadn’t been looking closely enough.
“You couldn’t keep me away, you already tried that. Bunny, I have you.”
Your tears flowed, rolling down your face like the piece of ice that melts in the mountain where the spring can now roll down the earth. Let there be flowers, and beauty once again.
“I- It won’t be easy, It’s not gone I just-” You hiccup, and Agatha nods with conviction.
“Of course it’s not.” She agrees, knowing quick fixes were never real fixes. Her once charcoal-stained fingers were proof enough of that.
“I won’t always be nice.” You amend, wanting it to be clear, she was signing up for hard times still.
“I won’t either.” Agatha reminds you, both of you clear that your witch was a moody bitch sometimes.
“You could have moved on.” You gasp, your chest shaking from the weight of Agatha loving and moving onto a better future. You wished she had, had forgotten about your broken self, pushing her away day by day. And at night cuddling her pillow like it would save you, you hypocrite. But stormy blues gaze back into you, with a sort of melancholy saved for breakthroughs.
“Not possible, it’s you and me in every universe. You were the only one who tried to believe that lie.”
“You suck.” You say but smile, and Agatha returns the hopeful turn of lips. Then she cradles the back of your head with the safety only she can give you. And engulfs you in another hug, not clinging from fear like before. But embracing every bit of you, even the parts you couldn’t yet.
“We can’t pretend this never happened, huh?”
“No, babygirl, you taught me pretending doesn’t work. We go through, not around it.” Your fiance whispers as she keeps you secure against herself, like she’s ready to fight at your side.
“Can we go back to bed, just today? Maybe try again tomorrow?” You whimper, and it sounds pathetic, but Agatha doesn’t judge you that way, not her style. Instead her strong hands gravitate towards your ass and swiftly lift. Like she had a million times before, but this seemed more monumental.
Agatha was reaching out and touching you without fear of you fleeing. And you weren’t running away, or about to change your mind.
Agatha Harkness was home, not in the house, but in you.
So she lifted you easily off the ground and your legs wrapped around her. A content little sniffle as her hold was firm.
Your witch carried you to bed, pushed the already forgotten blanket back, before climbing onto the mattress. And collapsing ontop of you, so that at no point were to two separated. You giggled and Agatha held you like you were her world. And for a bit, you couldn’t deny that she believed that, the monster didn’t get to rewrite Agatha Harkness.
So her weight on top of you only lulled you once again. Your legs still wrapped around your love, her face perminently sticking to your neck. You let out a long breath and closed your eyes one more time.
________
It’s around midnight when Agatha and you slink down the stairs to the messy kitchen. You wordlessly go to the dishes and start to move the pan and Agatha snaps her fingers and the dishes are done. You turn around to cheekily glare at her.
“So when I do quick magic with chores I’m immature and a ‘silly young witch’ but if you do them you are what?”
Agatha opens the fridge and pretends to ponder your sentence.
“A spirt witch who is educated in her craft.” The woman who held your heart just shrugged like it was nothing. Sifting through the groceries she’d slowly stocked up, hoping you hadn’t noticed when she came over how many things she brought into your pantry.
You had of course, but as Agatha had stayed on the other side of the sofa for the past few weeks. You couldn’t figure out how to mind the gap.
And now here she was, in your shared hope once more, wearing an old (shared) sleep shirt. It had the old wood cut illustrations for the famous “"The History of Witches and Wizards, 1720" illustrations. The black and white illustration had witches in a circle, doing a witches circle. And then four demons, three of them were the fates. You figured that out fast, and one demon was just a little bigger…. Your sweet local bad boy, Rio. Which meant the hand to the horned demons left was none other then the great Agatha Harkness.
The illustration was made as cautionary tone. But when you visited Salem, before the twins were born. With your dysfunctional coven you’d seen the T’shirt at a vendor’s booth and pulled out cash on the spot. Agatha and Rio both pretended to hate the shirt.
But you only giggled as the bottom some newer artist had put: ‘My evening plans.’
The shirt was old now, and had small holes in the bottom where the moths had feasted. A few bleach spots from where laundry days had taken it prisoner. And Agatha one day-about four springs ago, on a rainy day inside, she had told you to get rid of it. And Rio was half naked attempting to re-wire your ceiling fan. While Agatha was becoming an angry soft butch telling her she was going to do that next. Attempting in vain to kick her out of your home. To get Deat to leave and go to her own home. But your lady Muerta turned, flat head screw driver in one hand - calculatedly easdropping in on this argument for said shirt. And you stopped, and gasped halting your folding laundry. One hand holding a hanger meant to hang-up Agatha’s plum sweater. As your girlfriend was re-warded the top bedroom and bath. Using a bundgle to smoke cleanse.
“It’s my family!” You had argued, and Agatha and Rio had both instantly turned cold. Realizing the truth in your words, in their situation once more. Family, like they had…. had. And now here they were again, a new kind of family. But a family none the less, on a rainy day inside. Together and domestic, and sharing a big love - you.
You didn’t notice how you healed them. Their trauma, their shared anger at each other, their long forgotten love in each other. After Nicky…. well, neither believed love would ever warm their dead hearts again.
Then you came into being, with your found family coven. With your sundresses and loud music. Your ice cream and big laugh warming them from the inside out. Rio and Agatha flocked to the heat of your smile. Fighting for a scrap of just a bit of you. And yet you didn’t allow it, you gave, and gave, and gave.
And Nicky would never be forgotten, you hung the illustration Rio had done up in the house. Without ever asking Agatha, but you caught her talking to the picture every now and then, asking advice, forgiveness even.
But it was so clear - Nicholas Scratch would get to see his parents have fun again, laugh again. Go on adventures, make magic together, fall in love with another. In the end, the boy with the river rocks and melodious voice would have wanted nothing more than that.
So today you got lost in front of the sink, seeing the smooth, delicious skin of Agatha, as your shorts did little to curb your hunger for her. And that shirt that went just a little too far down her body, held memories.
Because everything in this house, in this town, in your coven, in your life - held space for Agatha Harkness.
Fuck you had it bad.
Aggie seemed to notice your trip down memory lane, even if she couldn’t read the street signs. Your soulmate knew the bumps in the road, the stop signs, the landmarks of where your mind had traveled.
So as she dropped some fruit onto the kitchen counter, she sauntered slowly to you, like a big predator does it’s meal.
Before cupping your face.
“Hello Sweetness.” Agatha coo’s and you can’t help but feel like you are falling into her arms. And you realize then that your knees did go weak and that she’s holding your waist firmly.
“You really believe that prophecy huh?” You murmur, a topic you didn’t discuss with her. And Agatha seems momentarily discombobulated that you brought it up, before she grins in that witchy knowing way she has.
“How could I not? You think I hand out enchanted engagement rings every few centuries pumpkin?” She teases and you blush and curl into her neck. And she’s all too happy to caress you, hold you tighter than necessary.
“Will you relight the fire and we can eat fluffer nutters?” You plead with the love of your life, but your voice comes out a little breathy. It’s not meant to seduce Agatha, but it does none the less and she pulls back and bends a little to look into your eyes.
This murderous witch studys your irises for a long moment, like she can read the constellations there, chart a map for you, to you. Before she makes a decision.
“You want me to make you a sugary sandwich after you ate nothing today? What’s in it for me?” She taunts and you chuckle much to Agatha’s delight.
“I was told to never make a deal with a syphon witch.” You lick your lips and hope your eyes don’t dilate - and that Aggie doesn’t see it, but they do, and she does.
“Mama Calderu devine that in her cards for you did she dear?” The witch taunted, holding your waist around with her arm, and then playing with the ends of your hair like it was her right.
“No, my fiance did actually.” It’s slips out.
Agatha holds her breath, not moving a muscle.
And you rub your lips together, like something spicy is there and it has a heat that lingers.
The silence stretches and you look down at your ring finger, where the engagement ring, the magically infused family airloom sits. A gorgeous twinkle hits it, like it knows. It feels powerful still, and you close your eyes and test the power of the ring.
“Easy Bunny,” Agatha cautions feeling the magic spark between you two from the ring.
“You think I can make you suffer the pain of my arousal without any release.” You let the words sink into Agatha, her arm tightens and brings you bone crushingly closer.
“If you think for a second watching you all this time and not touching you isn’t pain, then I should have worshiped you better. My gorgeous girl, I see you and….and I can’t breathe.” Agatha admits low, like maybe the spirits won’t hear, won’t take you from her.
You open your eyes, and neither of you see the enchanted ring turn colors on your finger. Instead you reach up and cup her jaw like she had you.
“I don’t think we’ve had make up sex before.”
Agatha’s eyes turn purple without her consent but she leans her forehead against yours like she’s praying to the Devine Mother that this isn’t a dream.
“I mean you did taste delicious in the bathroom but I don’t think that qualifies as make up sex. Oh but there was that one time you forgot my car keys at that huge Brigid Festival! Oh man I was pissed because we had to walk all the way ba-”
Agatha couldn’t take the electricity anymore.
She lunged forward and kissed you hard.
Fireworks was too mortal to describe kissing Agatha.
Your magic exploded under your skin, your hearts slowed and skipped like a kid tripping over their shoe laces. Kissing Agatha Harkness never got old, and your knees couldn’t hold you at all now. Not as she pinned you against the sink.
Your mouth opening to gasp but she swallowed a moan, grinding her hips against yours.
Agatha was the rain on a tent flap.
Agatha was the oxygen that fed the fire that set the home ablaze.
She was chaos and control, she was the calm you needed at night and the reason you woke in the morning.
How could one witch pull you apart and click you back into the right place all over again.
Agatha moaned as her tongue touched yours and you cried out desperately.
Ready to wrap your arms around her neck, grab her jaw, dive deeper into her pool.
But Agatha growled at your submissive sound, snatching your two wrists and pinning them behind you, into the sink.
Your stomach and hips rose to get more friction, more of your Agatha.
But she shook her head and traced the tip of her tongue against your bottom lip and you whimpered again in need.
“Please.” Is all you manage and Agatha attacks you once more, tying your wrist with her purple, unable to not touch you more. She quickly uses a little situational bondage to lift your shirt over your head and then pull them over the purple magic. You can’t even more your shoulders now, double wrapped just for Agatha to enjoy.
“Not fair Aggie!” You squirm and the evil magic wielder just looks satisfied with her meal.
“Not fair was watching my wife walk around not knowing who owns her. You won’t make that mistake ever again will you? You do and you’ll have to see just how cruel I can be. In fact, I think your punishment starts now.” Your fiance looks positively delighted and you go to shout and she yanks your sweatpants down your legs.
“Wha!” You go to argue but see Agatha whisper latin to your clit, and your eyes grow as Agatha gives you a cock now. “Oh fuck!”
Agatha didn’t do this as often, and you felt the tug deep in your belly. She made your dick grow, but you knew better than to believe this would be instant satisfaction for you. No Agatha loved her games too much for you to be cumming tonight.
“Easy Bunny, let’s see how your hips jack hammer into me. Be a good rabbit for Mommy?” Agatha cackles like the gorgeous villain she can be. And she guides you out of your sweatpants into the living room. Food long forgotten now, as she blows against her palm and the fireplace and it roars to life, lighting you both, and keeping you warm.
“Ag-”
“No baby, you call me Mommy. And use your damn manners quick, or I’ll make this hurt.” She taunts your sadomastic side and your hips lift, as though pulled by the magnet of her cunt.
Agatha loses the t shirt, not wearing a bra, and throws the shorts over her shoulder like she couldn’t be bothered.
Before climbing onto the carpet, straddling you.
Your cock, which now you were staring at, as Agatha’s dark coarse pubic hair did little to hide her glistening lips. Clit poking out, hood twitching unable to satisfy the arousal, and excited for what was to come.
“Please please please!” You say through clenched teeth, your body is in agony now. The need to be inside of Agatha, touching her somehow, it’s too fucking strong.
“Ah - ah, where are your manners. My wife knows fucking better than that.” Agatha tells you and she lets her finger nail trail carefully over your girth. Once at the top where your dark pink mushroom head let out two droplets of precum. The light from the fireplace hitting them like spotlights. Proof you were owned. Coven two and glory shall be fucking thine.
Agatha’s eyes never left your new member, like she was in love with every version of you. Her fingers ghosted over the new fluid you produced just for her. And you saw her hunger to taste you, to swallow you whole. But Agatha was nothing if not a century old sadist. So instead Aggie switchted to let her middle finger trail the underside of your dick - making it twitch up and down without your consent. You closed your eyes, turned on by the humiliation of how obedient your body responded to Agatha’s tiniest command.
“Eyes open Darling Girl. You paraded around for so long in front of me, without me. That ends right now.” Agatha promised, like she was sealing an envelope with a kiss, a promise, a contract that was soul binding. The ring comes to mind now and you attempt to reason with the witch.
“I wore your ring the whole time Harkness!” You meant for it to sound better than that, now it sounds petulant and Agatha just gives a witchy cackle before flipping her hair to the side and leaning down to lick the length of you from base to tip. Letting her tongue swipe the indent of your new appendage’s urethra. Collecting her prize as it were.
Your hips pushed up too slow and Agatha was already licking her lips, eyes rolling back in an instant reaction to the taste of you.
“You were made for Mommy. You taste so good, depriving me so long. You wore my ring, because I had to show you who owned you. But if you like my ring now, let me add another.” Agatha tells you and she bends down again and you pray she’ll suck. But instead she lets her tongue glow purple and licks around the base of your cock.
Her purple magic works instantly - rubber banding the base of your dick - it vibrates and is warm. But it was also torture, squeezing you so that you wouldn’t cum no matter what she did.
“Aggie no!” You shout in horror, the truth far too painful - you were in the dog house. This wasn’t make up sex - this was the first day of punishment.
Agatha’s eyebrow arched and her fingers moved to your asshole and she rimmed it, adding pressure and your knees shook at the sensation. Tendons in your thighs thruming like Agatha was playing a harp.
You were practically drooling for her legs opening wider and you humped her hand, but she didn’t push inside, just playing with your bud. Aware how submissive she could make you from this. Always holding your pleasure - her thumb on the pulse of you.
“What did you call me? You call me by my name like we are merely mutuals? Coven gal pals? Is that what we are? Does my magic around your cock, stroking and pulsing around you, and my fingers brimming your ass make you feel that way baby girl? Do you need more? Can you ask for more from Mama?” Agatha’s evil tone does things to your body and more precum seeps out and rolls down your penis. Like candle wax melting, and your witch takes it as the compliment to the chef it is.
“You are so quiet, if you are going to be this quiet I’ll have to entertain myself.” Agatha says, and you hope that means she’ll ride you. But she merely giggles manicly before her eyes turn purple and then a little more sinister- uh oh.
The purple glowing ribbon around the base of your cock squeezes the light out of your eyes and you scream in esctisty and pain. Head thrown back as your ass tried and failed to make Agatha impale you. Your eyes closed and your stomach muscles visibly clenched as hard as you could to try to orgasm, no such luck. Just the pressure - no reward.
“You make such pretty noises for me, you like how Mommy plays with your cock? Do you think walking away from me would mean I’d let you cum? No baby, you have a lot of time to make up for.” Agatha panted out and you felt like you were shattering from the inside out.
“If you think you can push me away, you got another thing coming baby. You are mine, I will marry you. And I’ll breed you. But for now, I’m going to torture you, so you never think you can do this again. Do you understand?” Agatha asked and you moaned as her finger dipped just enough inside to make you lose the ability to produce the english language. Not enough to actually penetrate you.
“You seem at a loss my sweet witch. Let me make it clear. If you so much as let Rio kiss your cheek while I’m not there, giving permission. If you think you can break up with me again. If you think you can hide away your emotions or needs from Mama. This torture you are in - will be nothing compared to the sexual Hell I will reign down on you. So behave and you’ll be as safe as a kitten, okay?” Agatha made her point very clear by bending down and opening her mouth to underline her meaning. Her tongue turned purple again as she licked the underside of your cock, so slowly, so, so, so, slowly. You were sure this was the afterlife, you had to have died.
Then as her tongue curled around your head you felt something burn and you hated that it made your hips jerk up and down and up and down. Like you were fucking the air and Agatha just watched in amazement.
And that’s when the cock piercing appeared, purple of course and you felt like you were going to climax from the pain and pleasure. But nothing came out of you - only the second before as you screamed Agatha’s name over and over. But nothing came out. You closed your eyes tight to hide from the intensity, but something inside of you was healing. This possesiveness that came so easily to your partner - fuck it made you feel wanted. And you didn’t want yourself most days, so for Agatha Harkness to crave you. To demand your attention, it took you to places. So as your body was as tense, toes curled, wishing an orgasm would take you as nothing did. Agatha would speak to your soul even louder than your magical dick. You whimpered ‘Agatha,’ like she was a deity and you were a wreck.
“That was so pretty baby, but that’s not the right name is it? Now where were we before you humped nothing like a bitch in heat. Oh! That’s right, you are MINE. My wife, my subbie girl, my cuddly bunny in our bed, my better half, my plus one to every event. My baby to care for, to nurse back to health, my girl, and mine only. So be my good soulmate - oh honey I don’t think you are gonna wanna miss this. Time to show me those eyes I dream of.”
You knew that wasn’t merely an invitation, so your eyes opened. And fuck you didn’t wanna miss this at all. when you had the strength to look once more Agatha’s soaking pussy was just three inches above your leaking cock.
And you were a mess, blubbering and begging like a virgin with the hopes of a nyphomaniac.
“Please Mama - Please Mommy I’ll be so good for you!” You’d give her everything, and Agatha’s breasts swayed as she bent forward. A bit of her cum dripping against your pubes like syrup on pancakes.
Your fiance, your future wife - she saw you. And knew better than you how much you could take - how much you craved. What Aggie needed to do to bring you back to safety. And she was going to own your mind, body, and soul. Agatha was fucking you with the intensity to understand that she wasn’t messing around. You must not have realized it before, but now there would be no question.
Your arms hurt behind your back, but Aggie wanted that too. Your discomfort, you were in time out as it were.
So she scratched over your nipples harder than necessary and you cried and tried to lift your hips to make contact with her molten hot cunt. Only for Agatha to slap your breast hard enough to remind you - you were hers. You were hers forever, and she was patient when it came to sexual torture. So if you wanted to be a brat - you may not cum this century.
“Mommy’s Girl, aren’t you?” Agatha offered you and you nodded like a deranged intelligently stunted sex addict.
“Mama’s gonna ride you - and you will be good for me. My good whore of a wife, won’t you?” Agatha helps you with answers and you nodd and are now aware you really are drooling. And Aggie doesn’t wipe it away, enjoying the depths of your desire for her, just her, only ever her.
So Agatha used one hand to line your member, her toy - up to her entrance. And then her eyes fix on yours, and she sinks.
Your toes curl, your mouth drops open, hot - wet - tight.
None of those adjectives covered being inside of your witch.
And the high pitch noises Agatha makes - well that does demonic things to you. So when your body slam up to try and reach her womb. Agatha just laughs at you and puts two hands on your stomach, sliding up to your hips and back down.
“You wanna play with Mommy now? You not so dumb anymore? You wanna earn my forgiveness?”
“Fuck Mommy, please let me. Let me love you.” You beg - losing any sense of self - only pleasure and Agatha, Agatha, Agatha.
Your witchs dark hair curls around her body, laying over her breasts, and flicking against her lower back and tummy.
“Let’s see what all that pent up energy can do, you couldn’t cum for so long. What are you going to do now?” Aggie green lights you - and it’s all you need. Unable to move your arms but ready to use all the core strength you have. You bend your knees and push into Agatha like you two were trying to make Rosemerrys Baby tonight.
Wet noises quickly fill the air, the slapping of your skin. Agatha’s mouth can’t stay shut - she’s gasping and whimpering like nothing has ever felt good until you, right here. But she won’t close her eyes, she can’t miss a moment of this look you are giving her. Like you’d fight harder and harder just to be here with her.
Agatha’s heart swelled at the conviction - your love coming out stronger than any release. Like being inside Agatha was freeing to you - the only freedom from your own self hate.
“I got you baby, you are everything my love.” Agatha’s admission made your groan and curl your hips hitting her G-spot and squiveling just enough to make her grab your thighs from behind to hold on for dear life.
Your pace is brutal - that of a young witch. And Agatha’s orgasm cannot be ignored no matter how long she’d love to last.
“Mine Mommy, you are home. I-I’m yours! Never goin anywhere withou- out you.” You speak to the fates just as much as you do your clear devotion to this witch. And Agatha’s face controrts and she breaks open with those words.
The only thing she needed from you.
And she lurches forward against your chest, unable to hold herself up as you pump into her with abandon. Aggie’s magic works though - and as she cums the special piercing binds comfortably to her cervix. Making it so you cannot leave, cannot move.
You are whimpering and quivering - so happy to be inside of Agatha. And so sexually pent up that you are sweating, and have rug burn at this point. Though none of that matters as your loves pussy walls flutter around you in aftershocks. Closer to her and you lean your head down and kiss her dark wild hair.
You can’t seem to stop, you kiss her silky hair over and over and over. Like an apology and Agatha twitches and doesn’t get off of you.
Your wrists hurt, but you don’t care, you just feel all of the hurt. Your own and Agathas, from this separation. And you feel so much guilt - you should have just asked her. ‘Ask and you shall receive.’ And you’d shut her out, your best friend.
“Shhh Bunny.” Agatha senses your panic under her limp body.
“I-I hurt you.” You bite your lip too hard, and your body is a live wire. Pent up sexual frustration and anger at your actions.
That’s when Agatha slides her ass down and let out another high whine as the spell broke and she could move against your cock again. You let out puff of air - overstimulated and desperate to cum.
Mommy moved up and down on you slowly milking you - without letting you cum.
“My wife, you know I won’t let you cum - that is your punishment. You let me punish you - you don’t punish yourself, got it?” Agatha’s voice was strained from the stretch she was feeling from your dick.
“Yes Mama.” You are panting now, sweat dripping down your own breasts, all thoughts gone. They belong to Agatha.
“So good for me. Now listen to Mama baby girl.” Agatha tells you flicking her hair back. Her hands coming out to grab both sides of your jaw. Her body continues to ride you, hips angling back and then grinding down. Slick arousal dripping around you and against your pubes. You would ruin if it meant staying insde of Agatha. You want that orgasm, but more you want your wife to never stop touching you.
“You will eat three meals a day.” Agatha gasps but keeps her slow agonizing pace up and down. Her arousal smearing against your cock as she sinks back on you, the piercing hitting the right spots - thank you magic.
Your teeth clunch as Agatha lifts back up and air hits your cock ring that is still squeezing and pusling around you.
“Say; ‘Yes Mommy’” Agatha growls warningly and you shudder eyes rolling back before you center again.
“Yes, Mommy.”
“No more running away from me” Agatha tells you and slides down, the cock ring buzzes againster her clit and she lingers. Her cunt squeezes you and the ripple of her muscles around you makes you throw your head back in delicious misery.
“Say it.” Agatha grinds out - a stern threat.
“Yes Mommy.”
The witch lifts slowly up and stops halfway, you swear you could die happy here.
“You will stay where I can take care of you. No more isolating when you have intense feelings. Say- say it!” Agatha lifts almost all the way off now, your mushroom cock leaks copious amounts of precum against the purple piercing. It coats her walls and makes her shiver - your magic filling her inside.
“Yes Mommy.” You almost can’t get the words out - your head feels like it’s being sucked through a vaccum. Every fiber of your being is lit up - buzzing and catching fire.
Agatha’s nails dig into your jaw to remind you to listen.
“You are going to go to coven meetings regularly. Stop pushing them away.” Agatha’s cunt made a squishing porno noise as she plumeted back down to the vibrating base ring.
“MOMMY FUCK PLEASE FUCK YES I WILL I PROMISE WHATEVER YOU WANT!” YOU scream and Aggie grinds against you, moving your cock in 360 around her cunt walls. Like that was the right answer.
“Anything I want?”
“ANythingGg!”
“Oooh baby what a good contract to make with a witch!” Agatha sits back up and rides you now. And you can’t stop the magic spilling out of you. It’s bright and it hits objects around you. But the ring on your finger pulses and purple fills the air like a steam. Sparkling and neither you or Agatha give a fuck.
She rides you and chants.
“I LOVE YOU, YOU ARE MINE, YOU ARE SO LOVED. I LOVE YOU, YOU ARE MINE, YOU ARE SO LOVED.” Over and over and the fire in the fireplace goes out and then re-ignites from your combined magic.
And your eyes roll back - turning purple this time too and Agatha hangs on as you two slam into one anther with all the force in your magic.
So when Rio lets herself into your house and walks into the living room with Nos and Senior Scratchy looking relieved Death has come to stop whatever their masters were doing. It was no shock that neither of you actually slowed your movements.
And Rio’s hand unbuckled her leather belt and surged into her own cunt. Rubbing as fast as possible at the sexy sight.
Agatha and you didn’t hear her - only moving as one now. Until Aggie screamed her hair sprawling out like when she used the darkhold magic. Purple split the fireplace wall and your bodies were glowing.
“I love you!” Aggie screamed and then fell forward again. You still had not cum, and you continued to hump into her long after she stopped. You couldn’t help it, and just as you got embarrassed and aware of your action. Agatha flipped you ontop of her with the only bit of energy she really had. Two hands positively falling to your bare ass cheeks to not let you stop. Shaking purple finger, magically unclipping your wrists, and splitting the shirt open. And you continued to roll your dick inside of her, whimpering and kissing her neck. Hands going to her thighs to open her up more.
And that’s when Agatha sighed happily and tilted her head back to give you more room to kiss and suck her neck only to see….Rio?
“RIO GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE! WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING IN OUR HOME!? ARE YOU MASTURBATING- I WILL KILL YOU!” Aggie shouted but didn’t stop your attack inside of her walls.
“CAN YOU BLAME ME -OH FUCK THE FATES! YOU TWO WERE BETTER THAN ANY PORN!” Rio shouts but takes her hand out of her boxers, and they’re very wet with arousal. Nos and Scratchy are long gone, having given up on Rio and you two witches already.
“RIO GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!” Agatha’s hand flails for the blanket to cover your body - not caring about her own nudity. But when she couldn’t reach the throw her groan is murderous. And the syphon witch does the next best thing with is shooting Rio with purple blasts over and over again. And Rio tries to evade them but they scorch her favorite skinny jeans.
“HEY DON’T- HEY!”
“GET OUT!” Agatha screams and you just don’t care as you rock into her. Like you are possessed. Chasing an orgasm that will never come. But only finding any comfort inside of your fiancé.
Meanwhile the two of them were yelling and Agatha was trying to light Rio on fire.
“I’VE SEEN YOU BOTH NAKED AND FUCKED YOU BOTH BEFORE. WHY CAN’T I AHH-STOP IT DAMN IT!!”
“I’LL MAKE YOU WISH YOU COULD DIE! MOTHER FUCKER!” Agatha finally had to stop you - her anger at Rio too high now post orgasm. She didn’t share well. And you cried out the second she flipped you onto your back and threw the blanket over you just as you tried to grab her again.
“OH MY GOD IS SHE IN SUB SPACE? CAN SHE NOT CUM? I’LL HELP HER CUM!” Rio shouted and stepped forward stupidly - thinking with the wrong head. And a naked, sweaty, cum covered Agatha came at her with full purple magic.
So after about twenty minutes you came to and the sofa was only ash. And Rio was outside in a very different time out than you were. And Agatha had re-lit the fire and placed you ontop of her body - curled against her chest. Your fiancé playing with your hair as you regained your senses. Careful to make sure you didn’t have a bad aftercare.
“Aggie?” You finally form the name- the blue eyes turn to you, blanket wrapped around you. “Did i imagine that or did Rio bust into the house.”
“I’m not ready to cover that topic yet, ask Mommy something else please.” The vein in Agatha’s forehead was bulging and you were positive her headache must be coming in full blast any second now.
“Am I going to cum tonight?”
“It’s morning now, and no baby, not for awhile.” Agatha says crypticly, and kissed your forehead and you just pouted your lip.
“Did I…I mean-” You lose the words and Agatha tilts your head and kisses you so deep you forget all sense of anxiety. When she stops, her gaze is affectionate enough to make you fall all over again.
“You were perfect, nothing is ever as delicious as you losing yourself for me. I could have cum over and over just at the sight of you.” Agatha gently cups your face and you have another thought but it’s interrupted but Rio walking in with her back towards you.
“I’M NOT LOOKING! But Agatha I swear to fuck if you hurt her!”
Agatha’s glare at Rio’s back is enough to burn more than the sofa. And you think of the song ‘Kill For You.’ But before the witch holding you like you are more precious than anything in this universe, you answer Death.
“I’m fine Rio! Go back to the kitchen!”
“I’m not going anywhere.” Rio folds her arms over the other and looks ahead, angry. You cup Agatha’s face now so that she can’t rebuttal as much as she’d like.
“If it’s morning does that mean…”
“Oh yeah.” Agatha’s anger, mixed with sarcasm was well placed.
“We have a coven meeting.”
“Less than two hours, yes.” Agatha answers without missing a beat. You gaze over and Rio and where your furniture was, and the crack in the wall.
Agatha’s jealousy flares at you looking back at Rio for too long. But you turn to her and pout again.
“I liked that sofa.”
“Rio will buy us another.”
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