#agatha fanfiction

[marilynthornhilllover]

For kinkmas Agatha Harkness smut please 🫣

Kinkmas fanfic: #4

Good girl

Agatha harkness x fem!reader

Warning: arguing, relationship problems, hurtfull words, indecent language,Agatha being mean and full of shit,smut, fingering, Cummings, make up sex, praise kink, mommy kink if you squint, slight overstiumlation.

The elevator dinged as you arrived on the main floor of your wife's company. You held your phone in one hand and her lunch in the other. Agatha had an unexpected important meeting to attend early this morning which caused her to rush out of the house with an empty stomach - obviously that does no one any good especially when they have a long day ahead.

So you promised her you'd bring her lunch about an hour before you head off to work, that way you'd eating lunch with her but it'd be breakfast for you. You walked up to the lady at the front desk with a polite smile.

" hi good morning! This isn't really my thing, showing up at a office so early but I'd like to see Ms harkness please" you spoke as you placed your bag on the counter. The lady smiled and nodded as she picked up the phone and dialed a number, she waited a while before dialing again. She sighed as she placed the phone back down in its holder.

" sorry ma'am but I'm afraid Ms.harkness is busy and probably can't answer the phone right now" she spoke firmly but her tone of voice showed no attitude or rudeness. You pouted as you looked around the room for another option before the lady spoke up again.

" If you tell me your name I can give you a security pass and you just go up" You turned to her with a huge grin and nodded.

" I'm y/n harness, her wife I'm just here to drop off her lunch and i'll be staying a while" the lady let out a small "oh" as she returned your smile.

" Well I suppose you can go up" you gaved her a small smile before picking up your belongings and reentering the elevator. The ride was long yet so short. With a soft ding again the doors opened and you stepped out into the huge work room where everyone was either standing, walking around or sitting clicking away at their keyboards trying to get whatever work that was assigned finished.

You turned a couple heads as you walked down the isle to your wife's office. You stopped in your tracks as you saw Agatha emerge from her office with her phone at her ear and her laptop in hand. You quickly walked up to her as she entered an empty conference room, where her meeting will be held later.

You knocked on the door to announce your arrival as you entered. She turned to face you and gestured for you to close the door.

" what do you mean you'll be here in an hour?! - no I don't give a shit if your taxi broke down!..... look be here in 20 minutes tops or your fucking fired!" She spoked as she hanged up the phone. If you were being honest if your boss shouted at you like that or didn't even have the courtesy to listen you'd probably only show up to work to give them the middle finger before quitting on the spot, but lucky for you that persons boss just so happened to be your grumpy wife.

She threw her phone onto the desk with a loud thug as she sat and opened her computer.

" what do you want y/n" she asked in a harsh and cold tone, you were a bit taken back to be honest. Even though she was having a rough morning that didn't give her the right to talk to you like shit and that was something you both had agreed on - she promised she'd never do since the last time she did it resulting in you breaking down in tears.

When you didn't respond she looked up at you in rather a aggressive way, it's safe to say if looks could kill you'd be dead. She shrugged her shoulders and rolled her eyes at you, her way of telling you to speak up or get lost.

" you need to drop that attitude, and plus give that poor guy a chance if his taxi broke down his taxi broke down-" she slammed her hands on the desk making you jump as she held the bridge of her nose, possibly trying to regain her composure. She wasn't- she wasn't losing her cool with you was she? No, nah, she can't be for real.

" look, I don't need anyone making a fool of me and wasting my time and I certainly don't need my pathetic wife showing up at work telling me how to treat my employees because she simply has nothing better to do" you were utterly shocked, your mouth was open and you were positive that your jaw had dropped further than the lost submarine.

The worst part she didn't even look as if she was sorry, or as if she regretted it. She just scoffed at your surprised facial expression and proceeded to type away on her computer.

" here I was bringing you lunch and wanting to have a decent conversation with you wife but no, you have to be a bitch" you placed the lunch in front of her and backed up crossing your arms.

You didn't know what could have upset your wife in such way or what is was you said that could have offended her other than the work bitch that she uses every day but she got up and threw the bowl of food across the table causing it to make a loud crashing sound and making everyone in the office sprint to their feet to see what the commotion was.

All eyes were on the both of you on the other side of the room since the blinds were down and the entire room was made of glass and to make matters worse the room was not sound proof.

" you know what y/n, you can take your ' lunch ' and 'decent conversation' and shove it up your ass" she spoke before walking out of the room and down the hall back towards her own personal office.

" someone get that cleaned up I have a meeting in less than an hour for christ sake!" She shouted before slamming her door making everyone jolt. You were frozen between reality and what just happened. Surely that had to be a dream. She didn't just shouted at you infront of her entire staff, embarrassed you, humiliate you and insulted you. If this situation didn't scream "divorce her!" You didn't know what would. You picked up your bag, carefully not to make the shards of glass of the floor to cut your feet.

You avoided everyone's intense gaze as you walked out. Tears forming as you heard whispers, or maybe it was your imagination, but after what just happened who wouldn't talk. You were beyond embarrassed. You wanted to disappear or worse lock yourself in a closet and survive off ice cream and Gatorade for the rest of your life.

You walked out of the building at the speed of light, not even saying goodbye to the front desk lady. Surly you were the talk of the day now and Agatha sure as hell didn't give a shit. What could have made her reacted like that? You didn't give two flying fucks she owed you a apology.

You got into your car and drived home. To get your mind off things you decided to go to a club with your friends to release some steam, Turing off your phone in the process.

After you arrived back home you saw Agatha sitting on the couch drinking red wine as she was clearly not paying any attention to the movie that was playing on the TV. As the door opened and closed her eyes flicked up to meet your gaze. You scoffed as you placed your bag down onto the kitchen counter as you began to take off your shoes and jacket. She should be lucky you even spared her a glanced, if you could ignore her entire fucking existence you most definitely would.

Agatha got up and placed her wine glass down on the coffee table as she slowly approached you. A rather apologetic look plastered across her face.

" y/n darling can we talk about what-" you pushed passed her not allowing her to finish her sentence as you made your way into your shared bedroom, her following you like a lost puppy.

" talk about what Agatha? That your full of shit or how you humiliated my infront of almost hundred people. which should we first talk about?" She looked down bitting her lip before she looked back into your eyes that were on fire with several different emotions. Sadness being the most evident one, she could tell that you were hurt by her actions today and that whatever she says now can potentially add to your pain.

" I just wanna apologize for the way i-" again you allowed her no time to speak.

" apologize for what! Don't apologize babe I don't want you to bruise your perfect ego" you scoffed as you slammed the door to the bathroom in her face locking it in an instant.

" fucking unbelievable" you muttered under your breath. She knocked on the door several times but you continued to un dress and do you regularly night time routine. After taking a shower you wrapped your towel around your body and went out to see her sitting on the edge of the bed looking altruistic.

" please my love, let me atleast tell you why -"

" why you threw my bowl of food across the room and told me to shove it up my ass?" You sarcastically asked huffing putting your hands on your hips. That was your signature defense stance. With that she stood to be feet and tried approaching you but you took a step back. She sighed as she spoke up again.

" Yes would you stop interrupting me and let me fucking apologize?"

" I don't need your fucking apology" you shouted, tears threatening to fall from your eyes.

" Yes you do because I can see that your hurt and what I did was wrong"

" wow, the egoistic bitch actually gives a shit about people, one including her wife" you scoffed as you walked towards your closet.

" Oh my lord y/n what is wrong with you" she acquired.

" leave me alone" you replied.

" let me-" she tried grabbing your arm as you walked pass her put you pulled it away.

" you keep saying let you apologize just talk!"

" I can't if you keep cutting me off mid sentence!"

" Well too bad, and sleep in the guest room" you said as you slightly shivered from the amount of tension that had built up over time. You looked up at her and you could tell she was in distress just as much as you were and maybe infact you were being a bit self-centered by not letting her apologize.

Agatha sighed as her will power to try to apologize died, she scoffed as she watched you take off the Towel and slowly put on your underwear, her eyes couldn't help to linger on your boobs and your fleshly shaved cunt and the small curves of your body.

" let me apologize using a different method then" she spoke in a low, sultry tone making you shiver as you made eye contact with her in the mirror, her eyes were suddenly darkened with lust and utterly desire as she made her way towards you from behind. She wrapped her arms around you as her lips found your neck in a slow opened mouthed kiss. You fought the moan that wanted to surpass your lips as you turned around to face her, her hand placement never changing.

" fine, if you can make me feel good in ten minutes i'll let you off but you have to apologizeto me i front of your staff, if not your sleeping in the guess room and your ordering take out tonight and your still gonna apologize to me in front of your staff" you said as your looked into her beautiful determined brown eyes. Your wife bit her bottom lip as she studied you for a moment before replying.

" baby you and I both know I can make you cum in five minutes tops" she husked, as she gently pushed you down on the bed. You chuckled at her playfulness as she sinfully smirked at you as she teasingly removed your underwear not ignoring the already wet patch that was presented before her eyes. She kissed in between your thighs as she maintained intense eye contact with you.

" so pretty my love" she cooed as she used her finger to move your arousal around, pushing her finger through you wet slit. You threw back your head against the pillows as you tried your best to not give her the privilege of hearing you moan so soon. Agatha was indeed very skilled with her mouth and hands and truth be told you weren't sure if you were going to last very long. She gently pushed your thighs up towards your chest as she leaned down and softly kissed your clit, gently pulling it and releasing it with a pop.

" fuck, oh my god" you moaned, you didn't want to give her the satisfactory but you lost all of your self control when it came to how this woman ate your pussy. It was incredible. you whimpered as Agatha makes cat licks up your slit once more before flattening her tongue out against your cunt before enveloping your clit in her mouth making you let out a pornographic moan as your hands immediately flew to her hair.

You whined as your hips stated rocking against her mouth trying to get some more friction before Agatha wrapped her arms around your thighs in a firm grasp pulling you down more so that you could be closer to her mouth. You were slowly losing your sanity as you became more desperate for her.

" good girl, such a good fucking girl, I promise I'll make it up to you sweetie" she spoke against your cunt, as the vibrations ran straight through you making you arch your back and strach your nails against her scalp, making her let out a moan of her own. You could already feel the knot in your stomach being tied,it was just a matter of time before it exploded and it was utterly embarrassing how easy she could get you to cum for her.

" gonna cum sweet girl? Mhm? Your doing so good for me" she mumbled as she sucked harshly on your clit moving her tongue through your folds and slightly entering at your entrance making you cry out. She was a tease and she loved how easily she could have you at her aid.

You plopped yourself up on your elbows to look at her and her gaze immediately flicked up to your tear filled eyes. The pleasure felt too good to be true.

" your gonna cum aren't you?" She chuckled against you when she saw how desperate you looked. It was as if you were stuck between enjoying what she was doing and let her win or play house by holding off your oragsm and making her go over her time limit.

She looked at you dead in the eye as she slowly pushed two fingers into your cunt at the same time. Watching as your eyes roll back and how your face confronts in pleasure as you lay back. She groaned as she felt how your pussy clenched down on her in such a greedy way. She slowly thrusted her fingers in and out of you watching as you tried your best not to ride them. She kissed your mound and your tummy and then your chest area and she picked up her brutal pace, making squelching noises as your moans got louder.

She latched on to one of your breast as her other unoccupied hand gaved the other one attention by twisting and squeezing your sensitive bud.

" Oh God please, Agatha, p-please, I wanna- no" she could feel you trying your hardest to not give into your pleasure rather than to let it absorb you completely. She realsed your nipple with a pop and kissed her way up to your face. She kissed you passionately doing the "barrel" movement with her fingers as she went harder and deeper making your eyes snap out and making you let out a crucial moan. She took the opportunity to push her tongue into your mouth.

You didn't even bother to fight her for dominance you allowed her to completely dominate you, fully submitting to her.

" you know your allowed to cum right? It's not a punishment darling, you have nothing to lose. cum for me please. Make mommy proud." She moaned in your ear as she nibbled on your neck. She curled her fingers in you going faster making you grab onto the bedsheets for dear life as you cummed hard on her fingers.

" FUCK-" you choked on your moan as she kept moving her fingers in and out of you, allowing you some time to come down from your high. You saw little stars floating in your vision as she carefully removed her fingers.

" there she is, such a good girl" she cooed as she licked off her fingers and gaved you a kiss on the cheek.

" so, that's 7 minutes and 34 seconds" she whispered and you chuckled. You turned to look at her with bright eyes.

" 2 minutes late but I still got to see the most beautiful girl in the world cum for me" she whispered and you playfully rolled your eyes.

" I am truly sorry for shouting at you baby girl" she muttered kissing along your jaw line. You hugged her tightly as you rested your head on her chest, listening to her her heart beat as it slowly drived you more into sleep land.

" I love you Agatha" you sighed as you slowly allowed the sleep to take over your body. She giggled at your spent expression and gaved you a little forehead kiss.

" I love you more my little cupcake" she mumbled as she too fell asleep.

Tag list: @readingtheentrails @agathaandgwenslesbian @aemilia19 @barbarasstar @samanthasadhdlife if you want to be tagged in more kinkmas fics coming soon please comment below! Happy holidays!

#agatha fanfiction #agatha x reader #agatha harkness #fypシ゚viral #fanfic #marilynthornhilllover fanfics

[peach-and-bugs]

With the new promo video for coven of chaos or dark hold diaries or whatever they settle on, I think it might be high time I revisit passing notes BUT WE’LL SEE!!! College takes priority, as always and I’m trying very hard to stay enrolled after changing my degree once again

#◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ kay's at it again♡ #history teacher agatha #agatha fanfic #agatha fanfiction #agatha wandavision #agatha x reader #agatha all along #agatha harkness #agatha harkness x reader #passing notes agatha x fem!reader #agatha: darkhold diaries #agatha coven of chaos

[springwitch26]

sweet daisy and the violet witch (agatha harkness x fem!reader)

tip jar / masterlist

summary: you are a baby witch in a tough situation. when a mysterious, brooding woman offers to teach you how to control your powers, you can't refuse. but what does she want with you? and... what do you want with her?

warnings: smut (18+), captivity and bondage but reader isn't exactly unwilling, mind-reading, sexy magic, humiliation, praise kink, dirty talk, enchanted strap, squirting, agatha is dark ofc, reader has a shitty sexist ex-boyfriend but he's only there to set up the story

notes: MY FIRST AGATHA FIC! this is set pre-westview and it is just pages upon pages of detailed, heretical, homosexual filth. it's been a long time coming, and i'm really proud of it. hope you guys enjoy 💜

tears streamed down your face as you stormed out of your now ex-boyfriend's house. the relationship had run its course, you knew that. but you never expected the breakup to be so ugly. he called you a "crazy bitch" and threatened to call the cops on you for destroying his living room.

and you didn't even do anything! at least, not on purpose.

the fight lasted an hour. you told him you wanted to break up, and he didn't take the rejection well. he started cursing you out, following you around the house as you frantically gathered your belongings.

now, you could handle the insults to your appearance and the comments about all the other women who supposedly wanted him. but when he started making sexual remarks—talking about how "frigid" you were and lamenting that he never fucked you hard enough to put you in your place—you lost it.

"shut up!" you cried, and the house shook with the impact. a wave of daisy yellow light burst from your chest and wreaked havoc on the living room. every lightbulb in every lamp shattered. the tv fell off the wall. books flew off their shelves and hurtled toward your ex's head. the carpet was singed. a few cracks appeared in the ceiling.

your ex ducked to avoid the flying books, then fell to his knees. he was uninjured despite the destruction, but his pride was wounded. you used his moment of weakness to grab your bag and rush out of the house, running down the street as fast as you could while he shouted obscenities.

you ran for a minute or so before a black car with tinted windows pulled up beside you. you froze in fear, but quickly relaxed when the driver rolled her window down. she was an older woman, and a beautiful one at that.

long, dark waves framed her face, and concern was written in her expression. her left arm extended out toward you, and you could see she was wearing a deep purple blazer.

"hey, hon. i heard some commotion from down the street and then saw you running. are you alright?" the woman's low voice was soothing, and you felt much safer already.

"i'm okay, thank you. i just broke up with my boyfriend and it didn't go over well," you admitted, your shaky voice betraying your anxiety about the whole situation.

"well, i can't let you walk all the way home, sweetheart. how about i give you a ride?"

you considered her offer. it was cold and rainy outside, and your apartment was a good distance away. this woman was a stranger, but she put you at ease for some reason. besides, much worse people than her could be out at this time of night.

"that would be great. thank you so much. i'm y/n," you said, stepping into the passenger seat.

"agatha harkness," the good samaritan replied, offering her hand to you. you took her hand and shook it, noting the delicate veins running up her long fingers. her thumb stroked the back of your palm for a few seconds, and the skin tingled when she stopped. "lovely to meet you, dear."

you told her your address and she put it in the gps, beginning the 15-minute drive to your place. agatha was pleasant and kind as she listened to your story, how your boyfriend had treated you and how you'd reacted—omitting the magical details, naturally.

when the car pulled up in front of your apartment, you thanked agatha and gave her a hug. she smelled like violets and old books, and you hesitated to pull away. when you did reach for the door handle, it didn't budge.

it all happened in a flash: purple smoke obscured every window, your hands and feet were bound by glowing purple ties, and agatha smiled. the smoke cleared, and you were not at your apartment. instead, the car was parked in front of a small black house with gothic accents.

"wha—how—" you stuttered.

"i'm glad you asked. it was a simple illusion spell. couldn't have you getting suspicious, could i?"

"s-spell?"

"yes, darling, a spell. i'm a witch. you are, too, but i'm sure you already knew that."

you looked down at your lap and shook your head.

"oh? that's a surprise. i mean, i knew you weren't the most sophisticated witch, but i figured you'd at least have a grasp on what you are."

your mind reeled at the revelation. although she had basically kidnapped you, you felt a strange pull to the woman in the driver's seat. your gut told you to trust what she was saying: you were a witch.

"tell you what, baby witch," she offered, a mischievous glint in her eye. "if you promise not to run, i'll untie you."

what choice did you have but to obey her? you didn't know how to control your powers, and sooner or later, they were going to get you in trouble. agatha knew more than you did, and she was teasing you with the irresistible chance to understand your magic.

"i won't run," you whispered. you felt agatha lift her magical binds.

"good girl."

---

agatha did what she always did. she promised to teach you how to master your powers, lulled you into a false sense of security. and at night, when you were sleeping soundly in her bed, she would try to take your power.

it only took her a couple of days to realize that she couldn't access your magic. she tried everything, but your bright yellow power was totally incompatible with her mystic purple—a fountain of light, untouchable by other witches.

oddly, agatha accepted this. unlike any of her previous conquests, you inspired a curious fondness in the older woman. you were smart and beautiful, powerful yet unassuming. and you were hers to teach, to touch, to protect and corrupt. with some training, you would be a formidable ally.

as for you? you were neither her victim nor her partner, but something in between. you abandoned your old life and happily crawled into bed with her each night—so she could keep an eye on you, she said.

"women like us will never be safe in this world, y/n," she would whisper into your hair. "that asshole saw what you can do, and he didn't like it. you're too precious for the stake, honey. i have to keep you close."

agatha hated your ex, but she could use him to channel your rage. as you worked through the emotional toll of the breakup, you worked on your telekinesis. as you processed the extent of his manipulation, you learned the basics of mind control.

one day, agatha wanted to see if you could hold your own against her. she was anxious to know if you could protect yourself with the strategies she'd taught you.

"you ready, superstar?" agatha asked, looking you up and down hungrily. you were wearing the outfit she had picked out specifically for this occasion: a black mesh halter top with a little yellow skirt, "ideal" for mobility. "don't worry, i'll go easy on you."

"i think so," you responded, trying to settle your nerves and anticipate her first move. but it was hard to focus when she stared at you with dark eyes, hair pulled back into a ponytail and arms crossed, emphasized by her tight purple t-shirt.

"don't get distracted, now," a sultry voice whispered from behind you. agatha had teleported, and you were too focused on her arms to notice. "that's rule number one."

you shuddered at the feeling of her hot breath in your ear, but kept your guard up. purple strings began to flow from her fingertips and wrap around you. you swiftly floated up and out of her hold, yellow sparks carrying you across the room.

you landed with a flourish and agatha raised her eyebrows, impressed. she didn't let you rest for more than a second, though, as a blow of her magic struck you right in the chest.

you stumbled back, but quickly retaliated. with a snap of your fingers, agatha was knocked off balance by a burst of yellow. she smirked and waved her palm. but this time, you remembered to block, crossing your arms and projecting a white shield in front of you.

"so you have been listening to me," she cooed, flying toward you and pushing you up against the wall with her magic. "you always seem so preoccupied when i'm teaching you, like your pretty little mind is off somewhere else. tell me, do i scare you?"

the answer was complicated. yes, agatha scared you, but not in an unpleasant way. it was a thrilling kind of fear that left you breathing hard and wanting more.

"no, ma'am," you decided, using her momentary surprise to push back against the magic pinning you to the wall. agatha withdrew.

"hmmm, 'ma'am.' i like the sound of that," she drawled as you awaited her next move. "you're doing well, baby witch, but you forgot one thing."

in a split second, you were lying flat on your back, purple threads binding your hands and feet to the carpet. before you could even attempt to react with magic, agatha was on you. she hovered above your restrained form and leaned in.

"rule number two: protect your mind," her voice above you was the last thing you heard before being plunged into darkness.

---

when you came to a few minutes later, agatha was still on top of you. she wore a coy smile as she watched the purple swirls disappear from your eyes.

"welcome back, sweet daisy," agatha husked. "after reading your mind, it seems like you're not as sweet and pure as i thought."

you struggled against her restraints, but they didn't budge. you were definitely losing the fight, but with the way she was looking at you (like she wanted to ravage you), you didn't much care.

"you wanna know what i saw, pretty girl?" she taunted, and you swallowed thickly but did not respond. "i saw myself on top of you just like this, pumping my fingers inside you while you screamed out for mercy."

well, your secret was out. but agatha didn't seem displeased; on the contrary, she was basking in your humiliation like a true sadist. you felt wetness gathering in your panties at the sight.

"i saw myself bending you over," she continued, using her powers to lift you off the ground and maneuver you so you were bent over the couch. "punishing you for forgetting your spells."

she swatted your ass once, hard, and you whined pathetically.

"i saw you kneeling between my legs," she said, once again manipulating your body into that position. "listening to my directions, being my good girl."

on your knees, you nuzzled agatha's leg in embarrassment, and she stroked your hair. you stayed like that for a minute before agatha lifted you into her lap, spreading your legs wide.

"and i saw you grinding in my lap, squirming and whimpering like a needy whore," she concluded, running her hands up and down your inner thighs as you straddled her. "what do you have to say for yourself, honey?"

you were at a loss for words, now incredibly turned on and burying your face in her neck. her fingers twitched and you were pushed out of your hiding place, her magic forcing you to face her.

"your mind is so dirty. how are you feeling? excited?" before you could respond, she slipped her hand between your legs. she lifted up your skirt and traced your slit over your panties, inhaling sharply when she found them soaked. "oh, you are. you just can't control yourself around me, can you? all hot and bothered. do you need me to take care of you?"

"yes, please," you begged, wiggling impatiently in her arms. tendrils of purple magic snaked around you, tickling your skin and preventing you from moving any more.

"much better," agatha hummed as she restrained you. she laughed seeing your helpless face. "don't pout. i'm going to touch you, make you feel so nice. but you need to sit still and take it like a good girl."

you nodded, and she rewarded you by vanishing your top. she took your breasts in her hands and kneaded them, working her way to your nipples. when she rolled them between her fingers, you yelped.

"shhh, i know, you're so sensitive," she cooed as she toyed with you. "you're in for a treat, babygirl. have you ever used your powers to play with yourself?"

she knew the answer. of course you hadn't. you didn't even know how. but she reveled in the way your face scrunched up in wanton embarrassment at the mention of touching yourself.

"allow me to demonstrate," she said, removing her hands from your nipples and whispering a latin word under her breath. you gasped when a purple buzz settled on your buds, replicating agatha's touch without physical contact. "feels good, hm?"

you merely whined and tried to grind against her, frustrated when you couldn't move an inch. she seemed to know what you needed, though, as your skirt then disappeared in a flash of violet.

"as much as i love that little skirt on you, honey, it's in the way of what i really want to see," agatha drawled, and you held your breath with the anticipation. with no warning, she gently lifted your hips up toward her, leaned down, and latched onto your clit through your panties.

"oh my god!" you moaned as she suckled through the fabric, putting delicious pressure on your bundle of nerves. then she sat up again and returned you to your position on her lap, once again whispering the incantation to continue stimulating your clit.

"i'm flattered, but there's no god here. just me," she smirked, watching you writhe in tortured pleasure. "alright, superstar, you with me? watch this."

she held two of her fingers up to your eye level, and your eyes grew wide as her fingertips lit up. with a predatory grin, she thrusted her fingers upwards, and you felt them inside you. you couldn't suppress your sinful moan.

"don't you see how powerful we are? i'm not even touching you, and you can feel me in your pretty little pussy," she mused, drunk on her power over you. "and if i do this," she curled her fingers just right, and you screamed as she stroked your special spot, "i can feel you squeezing me. like a tiny piece of heaven."

while her fingers continued thrusting and curling, her power pumping in and out of you, she used her other hand to explore every inch of your body. she touched you like you were the most precious work of art, a soft and delicate masterpiece in her arms. her touch and her magic were all over you, and you felt yourself getting close to the edge.

"won't be long now. you're so easy, sweetness," she sang proudly. her free thumb found your clit and rubbed tight circles on it, direct touch compounding the pleasure from her magical suction. not even a minute later, your release swept over you. "there you go."

when you came, agatha lifted the restraints so she could watch your legs shake and your core convulse. she kept pumping her fingers until she heard you whimper helplessly, squirming away from her invisible touch. she then withdrew the magical stimulation and ran her palms up and down your sides to comfort you.

"how was that, sunshine?" she smiled as she checked in with you. you gave her a breathless kiss, pouring all of your passion and admiration for the older woman into her mouth. her eyes sparkled with adoration as she looked at you, fucked out and struggling to stay upright in her lap. she inched closer to whisper against your lips. "i want to fuck you."

you weren't entirely sure what she meant, but you knew from your recent mind-blowing orgasm that anything was possible through magic. you started to get antsy in her lap again. you stood up on shaky legs and started toward the bedroom.

"don't be silly, superstar," agatha laughed as she effortlessly raised you into the air until you were hovering bridal-style in her arms.

agatha swiftly brought you up the stairs and into her bedroom. she laid you down on the bed and nudged your legs apart with her magic before retreating to the closet.

"do you know what this is, princess?" agatha asked, emerging from the closet with a large purple strap-on dildo in hand. you swallowed thickly at the sheer size of it and nodded your head.

"it's a strap-on," you replied sheepishly.

"correct, smart girl. this is a very special strap-on, though. do you know why?"

"no, ma'am."

"well, i want you to think of it as my cock. because when i put on the harness," she snapped her fingers and the strap was secured between her legs, "i can feel everything."

she gave the dildo a few rough strokes and groaned to illustrate her point. you trembled in anticipation. agatha was going to take you with the biggest cock you'd ever seen. and she would be able to feel the warmth, the wetness, the fluttering of your most intimate place with her own flesh. you unconsciously spread your legs wider.

"ready for me?" agatha crawled on top of you and dragged the tip of her cock through your messy folds, getting it lubricated. you nodded tentatively. "i'll be gentle. wouldn't want to break my delicate little flower. at least, not yet."

the second her tip breached your entrance, you inhaled sharply. it was going to be a tight fit, even though you were soaked. agatha recognized your discomfort and leaned down to kiss your lips sweetly. with another latin whisper, you felt those soft kisses all over your body, on every part of you all at once—even your clit. this relaxed you, and agatha gave you a few more inches.

"you're so tight," the older woman breathed, marveling at the sensation of feeling your wet warmth around her. "and all mine, little witch. you'd like to be mine, wouldn't you? i'd dress you every day in those mini skirts and no panties, play with this pussy all day long."

agatha's words worked exactly as she intended. you lost yourself in the hazy fantasy of being hers, and she penetrated you all the way. you both cursed as she bottomed out.

"good girl, taking my cock so well, letting me fill you up. let me just..." she trailed off and pulled out before thrusting back in at a new angle, hitting your g-spot and conjuring stars behind your eyes. "there she is."

once she knew you were okay, agatha seemed to lose the last of her restraint. she fucked you fast and rough, slamming her tip into your sweet spot on every thrust. she forced her cock even deeper by pinning your knees to your chest with her powers. then she snapped her fingers and the suction was back on your clit, only three times more powerful than before.

"come on my cock, y/n," agatha commanded, sending you flying into an orgasm. this one felt different from the first one, like a spark in your core spreading into an uncontrollable fire throughout your body. your legs jerked and your face twisted up, and the sight of you sent agatha over the edge too. you felt her hot release coat your walls, satiating you.

agatha pulled out of you and coaxed you to sit up, at which point you noticed the mess. a glowing purple liquid seeped out from between your legs, and agatha's midsection was dripping with clear liquid... wait, was that glowing too? the yellow aura looked unnatural, almost neon.

"rule number three," agatha chuckled, sensing your confusion. "don't be alarmed when things start glowing. comes with the territory, dear."

"how did that...?" you wondered aloud.

"well, for me it was an artistic choice. some women really enjoy the idea of me coming inside them, so i added a special enchantment to make their dreams come true," she explained. then her face broke into a smug grin. "and you, my darling, you squirted. it's not a magical experience on its own, but apparently it was for you."

your eyes followed her hands as she gestured to the glimmering evidence of your climax.

"have you ever done that before?" she asked while waving her hands in the air. before she finished the sentence, you were both suddenly clean and wearing fresh pajamas, warm like they'd just been in the dryer.

"no," you admitted, still a bit shy after losing control so dramatically. agatha hummed and pulled you close, and you grew drowsy while she cuddled you.

"oh, sweet daisy girl. i still have so much to show you."

#agatha harkness x reader #wandavision fanfic #mcu fanfiction #agatha harkness x you #agatha harkness x female reader #agatha harkness x y/n #wlw fanfic #wlw smut #wandavision smut #agatha harkness smut #fanfic #marvel fanfiction

[ginnsbaker]

In Losing Grip On Sinking Ships (23/23)

Chapter summary: One year later, Wanda returns to the place where you promise to meet each other again

Chapter word count: 5.5k+ | Warnings: None | Ship: Wanda x Reader

Author's note: And here we are! Will post the Epilogue tomorrow night :)

AO3 | Masterlist 

Next part: Epilogue

-

Twenty-Three

One year later

It’s the most important flight of her life.

Wanda Maximoff is finally going home after a year in Barcelona. 

And it's only a matter of days before the date circled on her calendar arrives, the day she's set to see you again.

Before she boarded the plane, Pietro gave her a call, extending his well wishes and backing for her reunion. Shannon is expecting their second child, a baby girl. Pietro would have loved to be there for Wanda, to welcome her back after such an extended absence. However, Shannon's pregnancy has been more delicate this time around, requiring his undivided attention and care.

In the remaining moments before take-off, and after having secured Sparky on her lap, Wanda finds herself gazing at a picture of you on her phone. It’s an image that Valkyrie captured during the Cup-off, a picture of you and her side by side, your awkward yet endearing smile juxtaposed with her exuberant, wide grin.

As the plane ascends, distancing itself from the ground, her mind becomes filled with thoughts of you. She pushes the tray table up and leans her head against the window, watching the shrinking world below.

Have you changed? Have you grown out your hair or cut it shorter? Did your laugh still come out in those adorable bursts, or had life worn it down to a chuckle?

But beyond these surface changes, she wonders about your feelings. A year can transform emotions as much as it can alter appearances. But her heart aches for you, hoping that this part, this important part of you, remains constant.

The questions dance around in her mind as the miles fly by beneath her. 

Soon, she thinks, soon she'll see you again. Soon, she'll have her answers.

The moment her feet touch the ground at JFK airport, Wanda heads straight to the cafe. 

Although she's still got three days until she sees you, she has missed everyone else. When the opportunity arose to further her studies in culinary arts overseas, she felt compelled to take it. It was a prestigious scholarship in hospitality, coupled with advanced pastry and chocolate crafting, offered to her by one of the judges from last year's Cup-off competition.

Before leaving, Wanda had finalized a business partnership with Agatha, entrusting her with the cafe's operations during her absence. It was a decision made out of trust and necessity, knowing the cafe would be in capable hands.

At first, Wanda was ambivalent, reluctant to leave the comfort of all she knew. But when you told her about your decision, about needing a year to yourself, she took it as a sign. She took the opportunity to explore, grow, and learn more, just like you were doing. But now she's back, eager to catch up with everyone and curious about how the cafe has thrived under Agatha's care.

What immediately strikes Wanda about her cafe is the additional space it now occupies. When the shop next door had shut down eight months earlier, Agatha had promptly rung her up to grab the opportunity to expand their business. The cafe had been drawing an increasing number of customers since their victory in the Cup-off, and Wanda had immediately agreed to the expansion, recognizing that they were quickly outgrowing the existing space.

“Don’t pour anywhere but the coffee bed, Daisy, okay?” 

Peter's voice is the first thing that reaches her ears as she steps inside. He's guiding a young woman, likely a new employee, through the ins and outs of the pour-over brewing method, just like how Wanda taught him before. Their heads turn as the door chimes and an almost instant smile lights up Peter's face.

Wanda's own lips twitch upwards into a grin, returning the warm greetings silently before gently unhooking Sparky's leash. He doesn’t waste any time sniffing every inch of the room in a frenzy of enthusiasm.

“Wanda!” Peter exclaims, leaving the confines of the open kitchen to wrap her in a warm embrace. Just as he lets her go, Agatha appears from the backroom.

“Maximoff!” Agatha shrieks, drawing the attention of several heads in the room. She strides over quickly and practically shoves Peter out of the way so she can enfold Wanda in an even more suffocating hug.

“Welcome back!” Agatha exclaims, stepping back to look at her; her business partner is positively glowing. “How was Spain?”

Wanda smiles, “It was an incredible experience. I learned so much and met so many great people. And Barcelona... It’s a beautiful city.”

“And the food?” Peter interjects, looking curious.

“Out of this world,” Wanda replies with a laugh. Then she turns to Agatha and says, “So, tell me about your new hot date?”

As they chat and catch up, Wanda finds herself glancing at the clock every now and then, her heart beating a little faster with each passing minute. Three days. Just three more days until she sees you again.

Wanda wonders if these three days would feel longer than the year she spent without you.

***

Three days later, the large clock on the wall reads half-past eight. The cafe is usually buzzing with activity around this time, but today it’s quieter, as if everyone else is holding their breath too. 

Thirty minutes till closing, and you’re still a no-show.

Wanda is seated at the bar stool near the entrance, her elbows resting on the counter as she gazes blankly out of the window. Every now and then, her eyes flit towards the door, hoping to see your familiar figure. But each time, she’s met with disappointment.

She can't help but wonder if you've forgotten about the arrangement, or perhaps decided not to show up intentionally. Maybe you've decided to move on, to continue living your life without her. But the thought that terrifies her most is the possibility that something might have happened to you.

She shakes her head, trying to rid herself of these pessimistic thoughts. “They're late, not absent,” she mutters under her breath, clinging to the hope that you'll show up before the clock strikes nine.

Just as the last of her hope seems to be dwindling, the sudden presence of a new arrival snaps her back to the present.

She pivots slowly, heart thundering, and her eyes lock onto a face she had least expected to encounter today.

It's Natasha striding into the cafe with an inscrutable expression.

Seeing her, Wanda feels a strange mix of relief and anxiety. She hasn't seen Natasha since she confronted Wanda about her feelings for you, hasn’t heard from her since she helped locate you in Montauk. If Natasha is here, does that mean you're not coming? Or is she here to deliver a message from you?

Natasha catches sight of Wanda a second later and offers a small smile, a knowing look in her eyes. Wanda's breath catches, her vision momentarily blurring, while her pulse quickens, thundering in her ears.

“Good, you’re still here,” Natasha mutters, claiming the bar stool next to her. A snide remark about how she actually owns the place flits across Wanda's mind, but she brushes it aside, curious to see what Natasha is doing here.

“Nat–”

“I’m not going to beat around the bush because I’m terribly late and she’ll kill me if she finds out,” Natasha explains in a rush. “But Y/N won’t be able to make it.”

Her grip tightens around the edge of the table, knuckles white, as the room seems to tilt slightly. She had prepared herself for the worst, but hearing that you weren't coming still felt like a blow. She had spent the past year missing you, hoping for your return, and the fact that you weren't showing up as promised was a hard pill to swallow.

“Is it... is it because she doesn't want to?” Wanda asks quietly. Her whole disposition seems to wilt, as though an unseen force is pressing down on her.

Natasha lets out a heavy sigh, avoiding Wanda's questioning gaze. “It's...complicated.”

Wanda feels her heart dropping at the evasive response. A part of her doesn't want to hear what comes next, but she knows she has to.

“Y/N's mom has recently been diagnosed with Alzheimer's,” Natasha begins carefully. “And it's been tough on her, especially since she's also trying to mend their strained relationship.”

Wanda feels her heart twist at the news. She knew of your tumultuous relationship with your mother, and the added burden of dealing with such an illness must be incredibly hard on you. It only increases her longing to be at your side, to provide you the comfort you need at this critical time.

“Moreover,” Natasha continues, “She feels like she's not yet ready to see you... that she needs more time.” 

The words sting, and Wanda can't help but feel a rush of disappointment. 

“Thank you for letting me know, Natasha,” she says, attempting a smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. “I had...well, you know, built up a lot in my head about this reunion.”

“I get that,” Natasha admits with a sigh. “And honestly? I wish she'd had the guts to tell you herself.”

Wanda looks away, blinking rapidly. “Yeah. So do I.”

Natasha's gaze lingers on Wanda's downturned face. There was a time when she despised the very sight of the woman before her, every fiber of her being resisting any empathy. But now, watching Wanda crumble, it twists something inside of her.

“Do you... do you have any idea why Y/N still doesn't feel ready to see me?” Wanda asks all of a sudden. There is a slight tremor in her voice, but she fights hard to keep her emotions in check, swallowing the lump in her throat. She needs to know, needs to understand, so she can find a way to support you, even if it's from a distance.

Natasha merely shakes her head. “I'm sorry, Wanda, but I don't have the answer,” she says, her voice carrying an undertone of regret.

Wanda gives a nod, a sad smile curving her lips. “Alright, thank you, Natasha,” she says quietly, a soft resignation in her voice. She wraps her arms around herself, as if trying to find comfort in her own embrace. Despite the gloom, she tries to put on a brave front. “Tell Y/N that... tell Y/N that I'm here, whenever she’s ready.”

“There's something else, Wanda,” Natasha says evenly, but there's a solemn look on her face that sends a shiver down Wanda's spine. “Y/N wanted me to tell you that it's okay to move on. She feels guilty that she couldn’t fulfill her promise and she doesn’t want you waiting forever.”

Wanda takes a deep breath, her eyes glistening as she fights back the tears, especially in front of your best friend.

“She... doesn't want me to wait?” Wanda's voice breaks a little as she forces the words out. 

The idea is utterly unfathomable to her. The very thought of not waiting, of possibly moving forward without you, feels foreign, almost laughable. All this time, she felt tethered to you, even with the miles and silence between. 

“No, Wanda, that’s not it,” Natasha gently corrects, her demeanor softening. “She thinks it’s not fair to you. To keep you waiting for something that might not even happen.”

Wanda blinks, a frown marring her face. “But I want to wait for her.”

Natasha sighs, rubbing her temples. “She worries that she might be holding you back from finding someone who can, well, be there for you. Someone who can offer you more certainty.”

“Does she need more time?” Wanda asks, and though she can hear the tinge of desperation in her own voice, she couldn’t bring herself to care. “I can wait, you know. I can give her all the time she needs.”

“That's the thing, Wanda,” Natasha says, meeting her eyes with a grimness that makes Wanda's heart sink. “She no longer knows when she'll be ready, if she'll ever be. She didn't want to give you an indefinite timeline.”

The gears in Wanda's mind are visibly turning as she digests the information, her face contorting with various emotions before settling on a desperate resolve. “Can I contact her? Just to see if she's okay?”

Natasha is quick to shake her head, an empathetic look on her face. “Wanda, I don't think that's a good idea.”

“But–”

“Listen,” Natasha interrupts, holding her gaze. “I understand where you're coming from. I do–”

Fury surges through Wanda. She pounds her hand on the table, her voice trembling as she snaps back, “Oh, so you know all about it, do you? Given your own track record with relationships, Natasha, can you honestly tell me you get where I'm coming from?”

“Yes,” Natasha says firmly, a statue of patience, undeterred by Wanda’s outburst. And she's able to remain steady, because she truly does get it. 

“Look, Wanda,” Natasha begins, leaning back in her chair with a sigh. “I made Bruce wait for me for years,” Her gaze falls, as if lost in the painful memories. “But all that waiting, all that uncertainty, it only bred more resentment, more pain. I hurt him more by making him wait than if I had just let him go. Perhaps I even took away many opportunities for him to be happy.”

She finally lifts her gaze to meet Wanda's. “Sometimes, we have to let go of the people we love, not because we want to, but because it's the right thing to do. It's not easy, and it hurts like hell. But sometimes, it's the kindest thing we can do.”

Wanda lapses into silence, feeling a sting of regret for having belittled Natasha's own experiences. She realizes, perhaps too late, that heartache is not a competition and that she has no right to assume that her own pain holds precedence over the other woman.

“In the end, I think Y/N is trying to spare you both from going through the same thing,” Natasha finishes, her voice thick with emotion as she allows a glimpse into her own painful past.

An extended period of silence blankets the pair as they both wrestle with their respective thoughts, looking out the window. As Wanda observes the thick snow blanketing the Manhattan pavements, she can't help but draw comparisons to the winters she experienced in Spain. The biting cold is a far cry from the Spanish winters where temperatures never dipped below zero. She likens herself to a plant frozen in an enduring winter, suddenly thawed out, expecting the warmth of spring, only to be thrown again in an even longer winter–an uncertain one.

The silence stretches on until it is broken by an awkward cough from Natasha. “So...uh,” she starts, glancing at her watch. “Is it too late to order a cup of coffee? I know you guys close in like, ten minutes?”

Wanda can't help the small chuckle that escapes her lips. Nodding, she pushes off from the table, making her way towards the counter. “It's never too late for a cup of coffee.”

Natasha follows her to the open kitchen, leaning casually against the countertop as Wanda gets to work. Wanda moves around the space with practiced ease, retrieving two mugs and starting the espresso machine.

“When did you two patch things up?” Wanda tosses out casually, glancing at Natasha while the coffee brews.

“About six months ago,” Natasha shares. Wanda acknowledges with a nod, meticulously pouring the espresso and then frothing milk, completely absorbed in her task.

“Because she took your advice?” Wanda asks over her shoulder, the undercurrent of raw emotion detectable in her otherwise composed demeanor.

Appearing a bit disconcerted, Natasha shakes her head slowly. “Truth be told, I didn't even know she took my advice... went her own separate way,” Natasha reveals, her eyes darting away. “I found out when her mother called me by accident. The anger had subsided by then. I wasn't furious anymore. I just... I missed her.”

As Wanda brings Natasha her coffee, they fall into a comfortable silence, standing side by side at the counter. 

“Even if she hadn't taken my advice, I think we would have found our way back to each other, eventually,” Natasha says, her voice soft, almost wistful. "She's my best friend, after all.”

Natasha stirs her coffee, her gaze lingering on the whirls of foam swirling in her cup. She doesn’t look at Wanda as she speaks again. “I’m sorry, Wanda,” she says, her tone solemn. “For having a hand in this. I never meant for things to turn out this way.”

Wanda gives her a long, hard look before letting out a sigh, her shoulders slumping slightly. “I know, Nat. It’s not your fault,” she says, her voice subdued. “I’m the one who set things in motion.”

Natasha, with a stern look, responds, “You can’t keep blaming yourself, Wanda.”

“I'm not blaming myself,” Wanda quickly counters, her voice carrying a faint echo of a smile. “But it's the truth. I've accepted that what happens in our future is like ripples spreading out from our decisions and actions.”

Natasha gazes at Wanda thoughtfully until Wanda starts to fidget under the intense scrutiny.

“What?” Wanda finally asks, her tone almost defensive.

“Nothing,” Natasha replies, her lips curling into a small, amused smile. “You just called me 'Nat'.”

Taken aback, Wanda gives a small, sheepish laugh. “Is that... bad?” she asks, her cheeks flushing a little in embarrassment.

“No, not at all,” Natasha's smile is warm and friendly. And for the first time, Wanda feels the start of a real, meaningful friendship between them.

Wanda’s quiet for a moment, mulling over something. Then, she breaks the silence with a soft sigh, “I'll wait for her. No matter how long it takes.”

Natasha raises her eyebrows, a clear question on her face. “Are you sure, Wanda?” She asks, her voice equally soft. “You're setting yourself up for a long, uncertain wait.”

“Yeah, I know,” Wanda murmurs, eyes instinctively darting to where the band used to be on her finger, now just a faint mark left behind. “But I want to. And... I'd appreciate it if you don't tell her. I don’t want to weigh her down with the burden of knowing that someone is here waiting for her.”

“You have my word,” she promises. Natasha takes a sip from her coffee, then poses her next question, “Hey, do you mind if I swing by here sometimes?”

Wanda gives her a mock exasperated look, rolling her eyes, “Of course, Nat. As long as you're not planning to rob me blind or something.”

Natasha chuckles at this, taking another sip and then humming in satisfaction. “Good,” she smiles appreciatively, “Because this might just be the best coffee I've ever tasted.”

***

A year and two weeks later

As you amble down the familiar streets leading to Second Chances Cafe, each footfall feels heavier than the last. You're more than a year late, and you have no idea if there's anything or anyone still waiting for you after all this time.

“Sure, Yelena, I can look into it for you,” you speak into your phone, rounding the corner onto the alley where the cafe is located. A twinge of nostalgia hits you as the signboard comes into view.

“Really?” Yelena sounds surprised and relieved all at once. “I mean, that's fantastic! You have no idea how much this could help. And don't worry about your identity being revealed. I'll make sure it stays hidden. This exposé is about uncovering the truth about Stark Industries’ tax evasion case, not dragging you into unwanted attention.”

You appreciate her consideration, knowing how much of a sticky situation it could become if your name gets thrown around with the exposé, especially considering you used to work for them.

As your conversation wraps up, you remember to send your best wishes to her partner, “Give my regards to Kate, will you?”

Yelena's laughter echoes from the other end, “She's right here. Kate, Y/N says 'hi'.”

There's a muted shout from the background, presumably Kate's greeting, and you can't help but chuckle. “Tell her I’ll beat her half-marathon record next time. I'll see you both soon.”

With that, you end the call. As you slide your phone back into your pocket, your fingers trace and then retrieve another item there–the contours of an old photo you have carried with you all this time. It’s the photo Valkyrie took of you and Wanda at the Cup-off, and you kept it with you wherever you went for more than two years. It’s tattered around the edges, but you both looked so happy, so in love, and so hopeful. 

It was a different time–a different you. 

Taking one final glance at the picture, you tuck it back safely into your pocket and push open the door to the cafe, the bell overhead jingling in recognition. The familiar sounds, the smells, the sight of the cozy interiors bring back a flood of memories. Your heart flutters with both anxiety and anticipation as you step inside, not knowing what awaits you, a year and two weeks too late.

Two unfamiliar faces are tending to the cafe at the moment. As you slowly approach the counter, you catch sight of a name tag on one of the employees–‘Daisy’, it reads. She greets you warmly, welcoming you before promptly asking for your order.

Rather than choosing a drink, your mind is focused elsewhere. You hesitate for a moment before speaking. “Actually, I was wondering…” you start, pausing to gather your thoughts. “Is the owner here today–”

Before you can even utter Wanda's name, Daisy interrupts, offering an apologetic smile. “I'm sorry, but the owner's not here right now. She's on an extended honeymoon in Asia,” she explains.

As soon as the words leave Daisy's mouth, it's as if everything around you ceases to exist. The casual banter, that constant buzz of the espresso machine, even the sound of mugs and spoons clattering, it all just blends into some distant background noise. 

“Honeymoon?” The word tumbles out of your mouth, your voice sounding foreign to your own ears, the impact of the statement making your heart lurch uncomfortably in your chest. “She's... married?”

Daisy nods sympathetically, her eyes showing a hint of surprise at your visible shock. “Yes, they left three months ago. I think they're in Bali now... or was it Thailand?”

Her words ricochet inside your mind, leaving you grappling with the sudden change in reality. Looking back, you guess it isn't the worst thing that could have happened. Honestly, you had no idea what you were walking into when you decided to come here. After all, you had asked Natasha to tell Wanda not to wait.

And that’s it, Wanda found love again, real enough for her to want to say 'yes' to a new beginning with someone else, and you’re–

You’re happy for her. At the end of the long dwindling tunnel, you just wanted to see Wanda once again. If not, you want to make sure she’s happy and living her life to the fullest. 

And knowing that makes you feel okay, maybe even hopeful, about moving forward. 

The smile that makes its way to your lips isn’t forced. It’s not as big as you hope it would be but it’s genuine. As you take in your surroundings, seeing the expanded area of the cafe, you can’t help but be proud of her. 

It's so overwhelming that you don't even notice the tears tracing a warm path down your cheeks until you hear Daisy's voice.

“Ma'am, are you alright?” she asks, concern etched in her young face.

Surprised, you hastily swipe at your eyes with chilled fingers.

“May I leave something for her?” you ask Daisy, pulling out the polaroid from earlier. You take a moment, looking at it one last time, before flipping it over and pulling out a pen.

With careful, slow strokes, you inscribe the words, ‘I'm happy for you, wherever you are.’ 

As you pass the photograph over to Daisy, the reality of the situation seeps in, casting a definitive end to the chapter that was. The young woman before you studies the photograph, her brows knitting together in confusion, a detail you fail to notice as you begin to take your leave.

Wanda is your greatest love–enough to last you this lifetime. You’ll find a way to spend the rest of your life without her, knowing what you two had will sustain you until your last breath. 

Daisy watches as you walk away, wondering who you were and why it felt like she had said the wrong thing.

Just moments after you step out of the cafe, its door swings open again to let in a breathless Wanda, her arms laden with grocery bags. 

She narrowly missed your visit by a heartbeat.

“God, this city is unbearably cold,” she grumbles, setting down the bags onto the counter with a huff. Daisy wastes no time handing her the keepsake you had left behind only moments ago.

“Hey Wanda, this was left for you,” Daisy says, extending your memento towards her.

Wanda, still catching her breath from her rush over, eyes the object in Daisy's hand with curiosity. From where she stands she can already tell what it is and who it’s from. The world seems to pause, almost taking a breath, as she hesitantly extends a trembling hand to take it.

Her voice breaks a bit as she asks, “Who... who dropped this off? When was this?”

Daisy, reading the urgency in Wanda's eyes, scrambles to recall. “A woman came in not long ago…” she starts, but Wanda's already dashing for the exit before she can finish.

Holding the photograph close to her chest, Wanda barely gives Daisy a chance to finish her sentence before she's out of the cafe, the door swinging shut behind her with a soft chime. Daisy, left in a daze by the abrupt departure, hardly has time to process what just happened.

Then, just as quickly, Wanda bursts back in, her face flushed from the adrenaline. “Which way did she go?” she asks urgently. Daisy, taken aback, simply points north. 

With a nod of thanks, Wanda takes off in that direction. Based on Daisy's indication, she surmises you’re probably headed towards the subway station. Her heart pounds in her chest as she makes her way through the familiar streets, the city's buzz fading to a dull roar in her ears. All she can focus on is the hope that she's not too late, that she might still catch you.

Racing towards the station with swift, almost reckless strides, the life she shared with you hit Wanda like a tidal wave. As each scene of their past plays out in her mind, she sends a silent prayer to anyone listening above, begging for a chance to find you.

Wanda's footsteps echo in the nearly deserted subway station. It's a lull between the usual crowds, making the vast space feel even more desolate. The sparsely populated platform should have made it easier to spot you, but instead, it made the hollow in her chest grow.

As she steps onto the almost empty platform, the glaring absence of familiar faces or shapes drowns her in dread. Every corner she checks, every shadow she hopes will move to reveal you, and with each passing second, the sinking feeling in her gut grows. 

Drawing a deep, shaky breath, she fights off the building tears, hoping against all odds for a glimpse, a hint, any sign that she hasn't missed her chance.

And then she sees you.

You're at the far end of the platform, bundled up in a thick black coat, hands rubbing together in a bid to fight off the cold. You blow into them, your breath fogging up in the chill.

For a beat, Wanda just watches. She doesn't rush, doesn't shout. She simply approaches with measured steps, drinking in the sight of you, allowing this moment to stretch out. 

As she gets closer, she takes in the subtle changes. The way your hair falls around your face, the look of concentration as you keep yourself warm, the way your shoulders hunch slightly against the cold. 

It's you, but also a different you, one shaped by time and distance.

She stops just beyond your immediate circle, her heart pounding furiously within her chest. Yet, before her lips part to speak your name, something–shift, an intuition–makes you pivot sharply towards her.

Your eyes blink slowly in surprise and then they quickly flick to her left ring finger.

It's bare. 

Your mouth drops open, then shuts again, clearly struggling to comprehend the sight of Wanda standing only a few feet away. 

“The woman from the coffee shop... she said you were married?” 

“That's Agatha,” Wanda responds, tears welling in her eyes.

“But she mentioned the owner–”

“I sold the cafe to her a year ago. I'm in the process of setting up a restaurant. I... I've been assisting at the cafe while she's on her honeymoon,” Wanda explains with a faint laugh.

“I thought–” Your voice breaks off, and the overwhelming urge to pull her into an embrace nearly overpowers you. Yet, there's a question, one that burns with urgency, that you need to clarify. 

Any more confusion could devastate what's left of your heart.

“Are you with someone else?”

Wanda releases a noise, somewhere between a chuckle and a choked cry, and then she's rushing into your arms, pressing her lips to yours in a kiss that's tear-streaked, snotty, a little gross, yet absolutely perfect. 

Because kissing Wanda Maximoff could never be anything other than perfect. ​​You hesitantly deepen the kiss, and suddenly, it's like a dam breaking. The cold metal and concrete around you are replaced by the warmth of her body pressed against yours. A faint scent of her shampoo wafts over, one that you recognize from days long past.

Your fingers, almost of their own accord, find their way to her face, tracing the contours you once knew so well, feeling the dampness of her tears. The intensity of the kiss shifts with each moment–at times tender, at times desperate, like a language only the two of you understand.

Breaking the kiss, she pulls back just enough to look you in the eyes, her own filled with a level of intensity that nearly takes your breath away.

“I'm not with anyone,” she says, her words tumbling out between gasping breaths. “There hasn't been anyone else for the last two years. It's only ever been you–”

“Me too,” you whisper against her lips before diving back into another kiss. This kiss is different, less desperate, but it’s as if this single kiss is mending the broken threads of the past, sealing the promise that you two will never let go again.

But eventually, you have to let go and let her breathe. Pulling back just a hair, you rest your forehead against Wanda's. “God, I've missed you,” you murmur, eyes still closed, half-afraid that this might just vanish if you dare to look.

Wanda gives a watery chuckle, “You have no idea.”

“I'm sorry I'm a year late,” you utter, tears suddenly spilling over before you can rein them in. The thought that Wanda might have really been the one that got married, that you could have truly lost her, crashes over you.

Wanda gently strokes your cheek with her thumb, her eyes soft and understanding. “Even if you're always late,” she murmurs, her lips tantalizingly close to yours, “I'll always wait for you.”

Holding Wanda close, you feel an overwhelming desire to ask her to marry you again. But this time, you won't rush it. After all, there’s two years of new things to learn about each other. And you want to cherish everything–the way her eyes light up when she laughs, the warmth of her hand in yours, and the quiet moments shared over morning coffee. 

You want to learn from your past, not rush into the future. You're ready to enjoy each day, to let your relationship grow and strengthen naturally. You're willing to be patient, because you know that the journey is just as important as the destination.

Wanda raises an eyebrow, a teasing glint in her eye as she waves the photograph slightly. “You really just dropped off this photo and planned to leave? Wishing me happiness like that?”

You nod, sniffling, “It meant everything to me. I thought... I thought if I couldn't be with you, at least I could hope you found happiness.”

Wanda's expression softens, her fingers tracing the lines of your palm before squeezing your hand reassuringly. “So, you were just gonna let me go, thinking I had moved on?” She laughs softly, though there's a tremble in her voice.

You swallow, the tightness in your throat making it hard to speak. “A lot can happen in two years, Wanda,” you say, meeting her gaze squarely. “More than anything, I wanted you to be happy... whether that was with me or someone else.”

She tilts her head, her eyes searching yours for a moment. “Two years,” she muses, as if contemplating the weight of every day, every hour that had passed between you two. Wanda takes your hand, squeezing it gently. "Let's not lose any more time," she whispers, intertwining her fingers with yours. 

You eventually miss the train that you’re supposed to take. 

But it doesn’t matter.

You’re already home.

Taglist: @canvascoloredin | @justgotlizzied , @casquinhaa | @marvelwomen-simp | @sunsol-22 | @wandanatlov3r | @kyaraderuwez | @justyourwritter69 | @stanolsevans | @aliherreraaa | @diaryoflife| @justagurlwholikes | @lizziesplant | @cowxpoke | @sokovianbaby| @swiftie1-0-1 | @scarlettbitchx | @tercerspirit-22 | @hyper-fixated-delusions

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x you #wanda maximoff #ifiss 2 #ilgoss #my writing #my fic #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff #agatha harkness #peter parker #daisy johnson #marvel

[xqueen-of-disasterx]

Hi hun, I was wondering could you write 🥺 GP Agatha Harkness w/ fem reader with breeding kink  💜

Gift

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: fem!reader x Agatha Harkness

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐲: Agatha gave you a special gift after you’ve been a good girl

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, Dom!Agatha, sub!reader, nipple play, breeding kink, blow job, praise kink, brief slapping

!Disclaimer English is not my first language so please excuse any grammar or spelling errors. This story is completely fictional. I do not own these characters!

𝐌.𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐍𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

"Come on baby keep them open" Agatha coated against the wet skin of your neck, when she forced your thighs spread. She licked over your soft spot of your neck paining extra attention to the little spot right under your ear- she knew it would make your eyes roll into the back of the head. "Agatha" you whined rolling your head back to give her more access to the sensitive skin of your neck. 

She kissed her way down to the valley between your breasts "I need you" she mumbled seemingly drunk on tasting your sweet skin. "such a good girl" She grabbed one of your tits rolling her tumb over your hardened nipple. You arched your back wanting more of her touch, which she granted you of course, she could never refuse you pleasure. "It's all icky" You mewled she had been teasing you for quite some time now, making you so soaked your panties were stuck to your glossy pussy. "Oh sweetheart" she faked her sympathy filled voice "Did I make you feel all icky in your princess parts?"

You nodded eagerly you loved when Agatha treated you like that, no other partner you had understood your needs as well as the older woman did.  "Have you been a good girl?" She kept playing with your breasts paying extra attention to your nipples. "Yes" you mewled "I'm a good girl, such a good girl" She chuckled catching your lips in a messy kiss you tried to get a hold on where on her hair but she only pressed them down on her mattress. 

"I think you've been a good girl" She whispered against your lips "and good girls get rewards, and their needy little holes filled" You moaned at her promiscuous words. She kissed her way down again her fingertips slipping from your wrists to your nipples again giving them a little pinch for good measure. 

She forced your legs spread kissing each of your thighs "Those stay open, or do I have to restrain you?" You shook your head violently "No, I'll be a good girl" She chuckled at your eagerness before her hands found their way to her own jeans. Opening your belt before tugging off first the pants and then her boxers. She revealed her half hardened dick standing proud against her stomach. You looked at her with big eyes your mouth salivating at the sight, instinctively you sat up reaching out to her. 

"Good girl" She mumbled petting through your hair "Get it nice and wet baby" You looked up at her through your lashes before licking over her reddened tip. You licked up the sides of her length she moaned at the sensation "My perfect little cock sucker" She patted on your head before forcing you to deep throat the older woman. It brought tears to your eyes and forced gags from your throat which were like music in her ears.

“Just like that baby” She groaned and felt her release coming closer and closer. “Fuck baby swallow it” She groaned and with a few more vigorous truths she emptied herself out into your hot mouth. She pulled out some cum leaking from the corners of your mouth, she smiled and smeared the access cum over your lips while you swallowed her gift.

“On your back” she commanded pushing you to lay flat your legs still spread. Finally she hooked two fingers into your panties pulling them down your legs. “So wet already and all this for me?” You nod whimpering when her cold fingertips made contact with your clit. She rubbed tight circles around your bundle of nerves making you see stars already.

She alined herself with you pushing her bulbous tip past your tight hole. She stilled inside of you before snapping her hips at a rapid pace. She pushed your legs to your chest, she just loved how flexible you were. She released a long string of curse words while she pounded inside of you as if her life depended on it.

“Want my gift?” She groaned and you mewled out some words of approval. “Fuck you dirty little cum dumb” She slapped your tits while she was fucking into her enjoying how they bounced with every single of her powerful truths. You were close clenching around her and so was she- enjoying each of your squeezes.

“Gonna breed this little pussy” with another groan and a few more truths she brought you two over the edge enjoying how her cum dripped from your abused whole when she finally pulled out. She fingered her cum back into you, you were just her perfect little breeding bitch.

:)

#agatha harkness #agatha x reader #agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness smut #smut #marvel fanfiction #marvel smut #agatha harkness imagine #lesbian smut #lesbian #wlw nsft

[the-scarlet-witch-22]

Love and Liabilities (Agatha Harkness x FemReader): Chapter One

Summary: While you attend a pretrial conference for your current case, you’re stunned to learn your opposing council is your former ex…and law school professor, Agatha Harkness

Word Count: 4.7k

Tags: 18+ Minors Do Not Engage!! Smut, Light Choking, Light Degradation Kink, Mommy Kink, Hate Sex

A/N: Hi :) This idea has been bouncing around my brain since the promo pics came out. Lawyer Agatha, the gift we all need for the new year. This is my first real attempt at writing smut, but I hope y’all enjoy. Updates will be around every 2 weeks. If you’d like to be added to a tag list, please let me know. Feel free to let me know what you think! 💜 Also a special shout-out to my sweet beta/girlfriend, Sarah, thank you for always listening to my crazy ideas.

Smoothing out a wrinkle from your pantsuit, you looked over your case materials from outside the courtroom. It had been almost a decade since you graduated law school, and you’d spent the time since working in corporate law as a junior attorney, before leaving the firm and working your way up as a top prosecutor. To say you were married to your job would be an understatement. It wasn’t enough to be good, you simply had to be the best. You’d always pride yourself on your ability to dig deep in a case and pull out missing details, or find a crack in a seemingly perfect alibi. You were ruthless, but you knew you had to be. The defense attorneys you found yourself battling in court were absolute sharks, and if they sensed an ounce of hesitation on your end it would be a total bloodbath.

Dealing with criminal defense cases was as interesting as it sounded, although it wasn’t what you envisioned you’d be doing after law school. You had different dreams back then, more altruistic visions of helping those who needed it. Closing your eyes, you saw a brief flash of the strikingly blue eyes and dark hair that caused you to change your choice of career, before you quickly shook those thoughts aside. It had been almost ten years since you’d allowed yourself to think about her- about any of it, and it wouldn’t benefit you to take a stroll down memory lane before the biggest case of your career.

A law clerk eventually came by to inform you the judge was ready for you. This was it. Gathering your materials, you walked through the details again in your mind. Pre-trial conferences were relatively helpful when trying to reach a plea bargain, review evidence, as well as decide what to present to the jury. There was no doubt in your mind that this case would go to trial. After all, a woman who kidnaps two children and takes them to a small town in New Jersey didn’t leave much to plead innocent from. What was the name of it, Westchester? Westmont? No, no, you mentally crossed those out, until the name finally came to mind…Westview. Westview, New Jersey.

The room was relatively empty, and you recognized the judge, Carol Danvers. She had a reputation for being rather uptight, but was typically fair in her rulings. She’d moved up through various circuit courts throughout her career, and you’d heard rumblings she was being eyed for a potential Supreme Court nomination. Setting your briefcase on the empty chair next to you, you thought of any possible hiccups from the defense. Supposedly a brief psych evaluation had been done after the incident to rule anything out, so they wouldn’t try and plead insanity, right? You couldn’t see Carol ruling in favor of that. There was the small problem of genetics; the woman was the boys’ birth mother. But, you’d looked over the adoption contracts, as had your colleagues, and they were airtight. It had been a closed adoption, and from what you could tell there had been no contact for over a decade. Plus, with solid testimonies from both families and multiple eyewitnesses you weren’t worried of whatever argument the defense would make in her favor.

Speaking of the defense, you quickly realized the defense attorney hadn’t arrived yet, which was a bit unusual. Racking your brain, you tried to remember the name of the attorney Yelena said was leading the case, but no one came to mind. Pepper Potts perhaps? Carol also appeared to notice the lack of the second attorney, as she whispered with one of the law clerks. You could barely make out what they were saying, but she sounded annoyed. But, no matter, you knew this had absolutely no impact on you.

Carol finally sighed in defeat at whatever the law clerk told her, something about hitting a fire hydrant? “Well, as we’re waiting on the defense to resolve their…tardiness, will the prosecution step forward?”

Standing up, you grabbed a copy of your materials, evidence, testimonies, anything the judge would need, before taking a step towards the judge. “Your honor, the state of New York is ready to move forward with our case. You’ll find sufficient evidence to dismiss any plea deal, as well as ensure we can schedule a trial date.”

Handing the papers to the judge, you watched as she flipped through them, an unreadable expression on her face. Minutes passed before she looked up at you. “The prosecution is dismissing the plea deal being proposed by the defense?”

Nodding, you recalled the deal that had been sent over to your office. It was preposterous, and was heavily dependent on the mental state of the defendant, or rather the lack of mental state of the defendant. “Yes, your honor. The state has inculpatory evidence to convict the defendant, as well as a number of witnesses willing to testify.”

A voice you’d only heard in your dreams for the past decade spoke up, and you nearly froze in place. “Inculpatory evidence? That’s a rather bold claim, I’d call it circumstantial at best.”

It couldn’t be. Paralyzed, you forced yourself to ignore it, to ignore her and keep your eyes locked forward. It couldn’t possibly be her, you would have remembered hearing her name as the defense attorney. Clearing your throat, you continued, trying to keep yourself calm. “With all due respect, your honor, the typical procedure for a case involving the abduction of a minor is what we’re basing this precedent on-”

An obnoxiously loud cackle cut you off, and nearly made you whip your head around in annoyance. The slow clacking of heels echoed throughout the room, followed by the faint scent of Burberry that invaded your senses. Brief flashes of lecture halls and late night office hour visits intertwined with the smell of cigars and expensive whiskey. Lengthy, heated arguments over the moral justification of various Supreme Court rulings whilst being undressed and pressed against the door. Diamond jewelry and lavish bouquets being delivered to your modest law school apartment as you sheepishly explained to your roommates you were seeing an older woman. Secret rendezvous in dimly lit piano bars in Manhattan which would end in a king size bed in a penthouse you could never dream of affording.

It all led back to the same thought, the same woman you’d done your best to let go of. The very same woman you currently found yourself standing face to face with. Agatha Harkness. Clever blue eyes met yours, and a slow smirk painted her perfect red lips. She hadn’t changed much over the past decade. Her dark hair, now peppered with some gray, was pinned back with a few loose strands framing her face, and you briefly thought of how well it suited her. The fitted black pantsuit which accentuated her features, and black heels that made her look deceptively tall as she towered over you.

For a moment it was as if no time had passed at all, and you were back in her lecture hall. But as quickly as that oddly nostalgic feeling overcame you like a tidal wave, it swept away, leaving you with the reality of the situation. Clearing your throat, you looked past Agatha, keeping your focus on Judge Danvers. “As I was saying. While looking at prior cases involving the abduction of a minor we were able to set a precedent that-”

Agatha let out another cackle, and it took everything in you to not roll your eyes. However it appeared Carol was at the end of her rope with patience, as she banged her gavel twice. “Does the defense have something they wish to share with the rest of us?”

“Your honor,” Agatha drawled out, her voice sweet like honey, “The prosecution is making bold assumptions on precedents that do not directly follow the evidence of this particular case. To rule anything otherwise would be direct defamation to my client.”

“Defamation?” You all but hissed, momentarily forgetting you were in the middle of a courtroom. The answering smirk Agatha gave you only fuelled your fire. “Your honor, the defense is all but negating the direct evidence of the defendant’s guilt. We would like to proceed to trial while throwing out the plea deal.”

Agatha’s shark tooth grin widened, and you had a sneaking suspicion she was baiting you to get a reaction. Typical, as she always prided herself on being ten steps ahead of her opponent. Taking a deep breath, you regained your calm composure. It would do you no good to allow your emotions to take over. That would merely ensure Agatha to have one more victory over you, one more thing she would take away from you. But things were different this time, you weren’t some feeble, naive law student fawning over her professor. The playing field was finally leveled, and it was about time she realized that.

Unfortunately, you forgot Agatha never played fair. You curiously watched her grab two folders from her briefcase, all but tossing one at you whilst handing Carol the other. “While we’re discussing the plea deal your honor, I’ve included additional information regarding my client’s psychiatric evaluation.”

Practically tearing the folder open, your eyes scanned the lengthy documents before landing on something that nearly made you fall over. Before you could get a word in, Agatha continued on. “Due to our country’s ever failing healthcare and medical practices, my client has been unable to receive a proper psychiatric evaluation. Your honor, I am requesting a continuance to this trial until my client can get the help she needs.”

Carol’s focus remained on the papers, an inscrutable expression coloring her features. “I’m granting a one month continuance for the defendant, Wanda Maximoff, to be given a psychiatric evaluation. As long as Miss Maximoff follows the terms of her probation and doesn’t leave the state of New York, we’ll resume this conference one month from today. Thank you to the prosecution and defense, you’re dismissed.”

Not wanting to see the smug smirk on Agatha’s face, you packed up your materials, including the folder Agatha gave you, and did your best to hurry out of the courtroom. It was foolish to think you’d beat Agatha at the game she taught you to play. That’s what it always was to Agatha, a game. It was like everyone around her was playing checkers while she was constructing the most elaborate game of chess known to man. All while she moved you around as whatever piece she desired; because that’s how she viewed you, as an object she could twist and mold to her liking until you outlived your usefulness.

Ignoring the familiar sound of her heels approaching, you drafted a quick email to one of your colleagues with the news of the trial being halted before going to order your Uber. You didn’t have to look up to know Agatha was standing in front of you, because that was just part of her intricate plan. She surely knew you were furious, because of course she did. Hadn’t she once told you she knew everything? At the time you thought it was a cheeky remark to make you laugh, but looking back you came to terms with the fact that the only person Agatha Harkness could ever care for was herself.

You were growing weary of the rising tension, so you finally broke the silence, keeping your eyes locked on your phone. “Can I help you with something?”

“I’m not sure,” Agatha replied, and although you weren’t looking at her you could practically feel her gaze burning into you. “I never took you for a sore loser, dear.”

There it was, she was trying to get her claws back in you. Keeping your tone even, you checked on the status of your Uber. “I’m not sure I know what you’re referring to. I’m just doing my job.”

Before you could comprehend what was happening, your phone was ripped from your hands. “Hey!” You exclaimed, angrily whipping your head up and your eyes narrowed, meeting the deep blue eyes you used to get lost in. “Give me back my phone.”

“Checking for your ride?” Agatha mocked, arching an eyebrow up at you. “Is that more interesting than talking to me?”

“Watching paint dry would be more interesting than speaking with you,” You retorted, your discomfort quickly growing.

“Now darling, is that any way to speak to me?” Agatha teased, her voice gradually dropping in volume. “It’s been so long.”

Glaring at her, you tried to pry your phone from her hands, but she put it in her back pocket. “And whose fault is that again?” Your voice was laced with venom, you subconsciously wanted to make her feel as badly as you had. “Should we take a stroll down memory lane and recall what caused this?”

Agatha’s gaze hardened at that jab, and you momentarily wondered if you pushed too hard. “I’m surprised you’re leading this case. I thought you wanted to,” she paused and used air quotes, “‘help the voiceless’, not strangle them.”

“How dare you,” You seethed, not caring that your voice was growing in volume. “I’m just doing my job, Agatha. Besides, isn’t strangling the helpless what you do best?”

Agatha tilted her head back, and let out another cackle. “Doing your job? You’re trying to imprison an innocent mother.”

“Your innocent mother kidnapped two minors and took them over state lines,” You fired back, vaguely aware that Agatha was taking small, slow steps towards you.

“She’s still their mother,” Agatha pointed out and you felt your face grow red from rage.

“Regardless of DNA, it was a closed adoption. She waived her parental rights,” You argued, unaware of anything but the infuriating woman standing in front of you. “Surely you’ve been practicing long enough to know how to read a contract.”

“And I thought I taught you to read between the lines of said contracts,” Agatha countered, and you knew she was testing your argument, it’s what she always did. “Things aren’t always black and white, dear.”

No they weren’t, you silently agreed. By this point your back was to the wall of the deserted corridor, Agatha still towering over you. Your faces were practically touching, and you could practically taste her lips. Both of you were panting from the exertion of bickering, and it wouldn’t take much to close the distance. She was so close, closer than she had been to you in so long. Having her back in your orbit, taking over all of your senses, made you forget the reasons you were so angry with her. Instead, it made you remember how many other times you had found yourself in this exact same position.

You could feel your ironclad restraint begin to slip away, and Agatha appeared to notice it as well. She let out a low chuckle as she turned her face to the side, her breath now hot against your ear, and allowing her to whisper, “Looks like it still doesn’t take much to get you riled up, does it?”

Shuddering, you struggled to get your breathing even, thinking of the many reasons why this was a horrible idea. Your history aside, you were on opposing sides of what would most likely be a very public case. It wasn’t just unprofessional to be doing this, it could potentially jeopardize your whole career. But it was hard to think about any of that when you locked eyes with the woman you had spent so much time trying to forget. Her right hand left your waist to push back the loose strands of your hair, tucking them behind your ear.

Each movement was slow, and delicate, and as her fingers slowly trailed down your neck, she gently squeezed, before gradually applying more pressure, and you had to physically restrain yourself from moaning. You could feel the heat pooling between your legs and had to close your eyes from the overwhelming sensation. Agatha’s lips moved to your neck, pressing hot, open kisses on your flesh while her fingers began to move lower, cupping your left breast before slowly pinching your nipple. This time you couldn’t stop the quiet moan that left your lips, and Agatha quickly used her free hand to silence you, covering your mouth.

“You always had a problem being quiet,” Agatha murmured, lips still on your skin. “Let’s find somewhere more…secluded to continue this, hm?”

Feeling yourself nod, you opened your eyes and let out a pathetic whine as she let go of you. It didn’t take long to find an empty storage closet, and Agatha practically shoved you inside before slamming the door behind her.

Pressing you against the bare wall, her eyes scanned yours before asking, “Are you sure?”

Being with Agatha like this was the greatest euphoric high, and it always left you wanting more and more. It didn’t have to mean anything, and you certainly didn’t want it to. It was just two people working out their frustrations, right? You nodded again, grabbing her right hand and placing it back around your throat. “Are you going to choke me again or are you too much of a coward?”

She nearly growled at that, and squeezed, a little rougher this time. You pressed your face into her shoulder, trying to silence the noises you always made when she touched you. She had barely started but it was so good, and you didn’t hesitate when she used her free hand to try and remove your blazer. Taking a step back to take off your blouse and bra, you nearly tripped over some boxes, and her hands steadied you.

“Careful,” She lightly teased, eyes still dark from arousal. “I’m not nearly finished with you.”

Her hands skillfully unhooked your bra, carelessly tossing it to the side, before lowering her mouth to your breast, and lewdly sucked. As if she anticipated the noises you’d inevitably make, she roughly pressed two fingers in your open mouth for you to suck. Moaning around them, you eagerly sucked and sucked, thinking of where you wanted her fingers to go next. Agatha’s tongue swirled around your nipple, teasing it enough to make it go erect before using her teeth to pull. You felt your eyes roll to the back of your head, your last functioning brain cells wondering how she could still have this strong of an effect on you.

She let out a low hum, clearly enjoying this as much as you were before moving to your other breast, only this time she bit down, and the rush of pain and pleasure flooded you. Unable to cry out as she fucked her fingers further down your throat before adding a third, causing you to gag around them. Releasing your breast, Agatha panted out, “Look at how pathetic you are, sucking on my fingers like a good little slut. What a good girl.”

Whimpering around her fingers, you clenched at the filth spewing from her lips. You hated this, how easily she could flip the switch and have you dripping and wanting her to fuck you through the floorboards. Agatha cooed, using her free hand to gently stroke your face, and roughly pulled her fingers out of your mouth. She was face level again, and you watched the gears turn in her head as she weighed out what to do with you. That same free hand cupped your jaw, and she was so close, your brain buzzing from the endorphins. It was so good, you hated how good it was.

Her normally perfectly red lips were stained and parted slightly as she looked at you with an indecipherable stare, and you were still breathless from her earlier ministrations. Before you could fully comprehend what you were doing, you grabbed her hair and smashed your lips together. You swore you heard her groan, but it was gone as quickly as it came, and you had no time to contemplate it as you felt her tongue teasing the entrance of your mouth. It has been so long, so very long, but you fell back into the familiar dance you could never forget.

Everything Agatha did she dominated, for she had such a strong presence that was impossible to ignore. Just kissing her was enough to get you off, as her tongue expertly swirled around yours, sending you further and further from the edge of reality. You were so far gone you barely noticed her hands moving lower, and lower, until they were pawing at your ass. Groping and grabbing, she was insatiable as she conquered your mouth. You broke apart for merely a second and without speaking, you helped get rid of your pants, slightly stunned you were still this in sync after all this time.

But again, you had no time to ponder that thought as Agatha quickly slammed you against the wall, and you couldn’t help but moan at the pain. The same fingers you eagerly sucked on were now teasing your entrance, rubbing gentle, slow circles. Agatha’s breath was hot in your ear, and you whined, trying to thrust your hips up for more friction. You needed more, you needed her more than ever before. Going without for so long was fine, you’d nearly forgotten what it felt like, what she felt like; but the second you remembered you couldn’t bear a second without it.

“Someone’s awfully worked up,” Agatha taunted, her voice softly whispering in your ear. “Did you want something?”

“Agatha…” You breathed out, your voice nearly cracking. “Please…”

Her fingers teased your clit, and the sensation made you cry out, causing Agatha to silence you with yet another kiss. “Behave,” she murmured against your lips, “Do you want me inside you? Do you want me to fill that sweet little cunt?”

Mewling, you again tried to tilt your hips up, desperate to feel her inside you, but her other hand kept you in place. “Agatha, please, I…I need it, please fuck me.”

Agatha arched an eyebrow, “I know your brain just melts when that pussy gets wet, but we both know that’s not what you want to call me, is it?” Blushing, you tried to avert your eyes but it was impossible. She nipped at your lips before continuing. “Be a good girl and beg for it.”

“Mommy,” The words slipped past your lips and you felt another rush of heat between your legs while Agatha moaned.

“Good girl,” Agatha praised you, and before you could prepare yourself she roughly entered you with two fingers, filling you completely.

Her fingers were so long and so good, hitting the spots you had trouble reaching. You couldn’t help but clench around them, and she groaned in your ear. Wasting no time, she set a fast and hard rhythm, skillfully fucking you better than anyone else since her had been able to.

“I almost forgot how good your cunt feels around my fingers,” Agatha hissed, nibbling on your ear, “Suck me in, slut.”

Your hips met her fingers, and you desperately chased your orgasm. “Harder, please mommy fuck me harder.”

Putting all of her weight on you, Agatha swiftly added a third finger and you nearly squealed at how full you felt. Her fingers were so deep, and you were so close, so very close to the edge.

“Such a good whore for mommy,” Agatha cooed, and her voice was strained, you could tell she was close too. “Do you want to come on my fingers?”

“Mommy please,” You cried out, unable to focus on anything but wanting to feel her fingers make you come harder than you could ever remember.

Agatha’s hips rested against your knee, and she began riding your leg, chasing her own high. “Come for mommy, baby. Soak my fingers.”

Twisting her fingers and hitting your G-spot again, and again causing you to quickly unravel. Feeling your orgasm coming, you clenched around her fingers, needing her to stay inside you. Your knees buckled and you swore you saw stars, unable to speak as you silently cried out. Agatha came right as you did, grunting in your ear and roughly thrusting against your leg as she came undone.

“Fuck,” She panted, keeping her fingers inside you as you continued to twitched around them. “Good girl, such a good girl for mommy.”

Breathing heavily, you gradually felt yourself come back to Earth. You were drenched with sweat, and you were sure you looked positively debauched. Agatha was staring at you with yet another inscrutable expression on her face, and you felt yourself relaxing around her fingers as she slowly pulled out. You grabbed her hand, and lewdly cleaned her fingers off, watching her eyes darken once more as you made a point to swirl your tongue around them until they were clean.

As your brain fog cleared, you were all too aware of the uncomfortable silence growing around you. With every high that came with being with Agatha, it was almost always followed by an indescribable low. There were so many things you wanted to ask her, so many things you needed to know. Brief flashes of arguments and slamming doors. Dozens of unanswered calls, and late nights spent wondering what you had done wrong to deserve her random outbursts of anger. But with every argument, every heated fight, it would always end the same way; with Agatha pressing you against some surface and having her way with you.

There had been so much more going on at that point than you were aware of, and as the pieces slowly came together, she was too far gone for you to be able to help. You’d begged and pleaded with her, but it never mattered. What was it your therapist had said to you? You couldn’t help someone who didn’t want to help themselves. Letting go of her nearly killed you, and now you made the mistake of opening that door again, knowing how much more complicated it would be. You weren’t just her law student anymore, you were on opposing sides of a trial.

It appeared Agatha was having the same train of thought as you, for she wordlessly helped you find your clothes. In spite of her just being inside you, you made a point of turning around as you got dressed, as the air in the room seemed to drop and any of the warmth that had been there prior had disappeared. There was so much you wanted to say, yet simultaneously wanted to get as far away from her as you could.

Agatha finally broke the silence as she fixed her hair, and she was back to her usual condescending self. “You know you’re wrong pursuing this case, right? It’s not too late to back out.”

Rolling your eyes, you finally grabbed your phone from her back pocket and saw your Uber driver understandably canceled your ride. That would certainly tank your rating. You quickly ordered another before replying with, “You know this meant absolutely nothing to me, right?”

Pushing past her to exit the room, she let out another cackle, the sound like grating nails on a chalkboard in your ears. You knew she wouldn’t follow you, and you were thankful for that. This was an indiscretion, a momentary lapse of judgment. You’ve been on edge with all the extra hours you’ve been working; you weren’t thinking clearly. The courthouse was still relatively empty, and you left the building, trying to get the thought of Agatha out of your mind. Why did she have to be so infuriating?

Your Uber eventually rolled up and as you got in you went to check your work email. It never failed to amaze you how quickly your inbox would fill up when you didn’t check it for more than five minutes. Scrolling through, you vaguely listened to the music your driver had in in the background, until a familiar song started playing. Frank Sinatra, a favorite artist of a certain attorney. The Way You Look Tonight had always been one of her favorites, and you could remember the last time you listened to it together.

Your mind absentmindedly drifted, the memories you’d tried to lock away slowly creeping back up to the surface. It seemed no matter how hard you tried to forget, she didn’t want you to. Settling into your seat, listening to Frank Sinatra, you thought back to the first time you met Agatha, or rather, how you met Professor Harkness.

#agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness #agatha harkness fanfiction #agatha harkness smut

[scarlethexelove]

MASTERLIST AND SHIT

MINORS DNI

PEOPLE I WILL WRITE FOR: Wanda Maximoff, Natasha Romanoff, Kate Bishop, Possibly others if requested.

THINGS I WILL WRITE: Legal age gap, Mommy/Daddy kink, smut, fluff, amab/intersex (only for characters not reader), pregnancy, breeding kink, praise kink, degration kink, thigh riding, dark fics, sensitive topics, cnc, lactation kink, anal play, ABO, will only write sub reader, and more just to name a few.

THINGS I WILL NOT WRITE: Incest, pedophilia, men x reader, male!reader, amab/intersex reader, underage, dom reader, and more that I can't think of.

Taken emojis: 🐾🎨🦖🎀

Minors, blank blogs will be blocked 🚫

If I'm uncomfortable with your ask I will probably delete it.

And if you don't like what I write don't read it.

All warnings will be in the fics, I may miss some but anything that could be triggering will be stated.

Smut = 𖤓 | Fluff = ❁ | Angst = ☽ | Dark = ✧

WANDA MAXIMOFF:

A Crazy Love Story Pt1 (☽)

Roles Reversed (𖤓)

Seeing Double (𖤓)

There Is Nothing Wrong With You (❁)

NATASHA ROMANOFF:

You're My Comfort (❁)

Little Bug (❁,age regression)

Please Don't Leave Me Pt 1 (☽)

Gone Pt 2 (☽)

WANDANAT:

Complications (☽,✧,❁,𖤓)

I Did (☽,❁)

We'll Keep You Safe Pt 1 (☽,✧,❁)

Save You Pt 2 (☽,❁)

I Don't Even Know You Anymore Pt 1 (☽)

What About Now? Pt 2 (❁,☽)

Our Omega (𖤓,❁)

AGATHA HARKNESS:

My Little Bunny (✧,𖤓)

You're Mine Now Pt 1 (✧,𖤓)

You're Not Going Anywhere Pt 2 (✧,𖤓)

Let Them See (𖤓)

Please Stay (𖤓

My Office (𖤓)

Love So Deep (𖤓)

Why Are You Here? Pt 1 (☽)

You Came Pt 2 (𖤓)

Why Pt 3 (☽,❁)

You Don't Know What You Do To Me (𖤓)

We're Going To Be Late (𖤓)

Unexpected (𖤓)

KATE BISHOP:

Let Me Use You (𖤓)

You're All I Ever Need (☽,𖤓)

CAROL DANVERS:

I Want You (𖤓)

I'm Ready (𖤓)

#wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff #natasha smut #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff angst #wanda maximoff fic #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda smut #wanda maximoff angst #wandanat #wandanat x reader #wandanat smut #kate bishop x reader #kate bishop fanfiction #agatha x reader #agatha harkness #kate bishop #agatha harkness x reader #carol danvers x y/n #carol danvers x you #carol danvers x reader #carol danvers #carol danvers smut #carol danvers x reader smut #reblog thingies #reading list #read later

[maxislvt]

Fallen into Lust

pairing(s): fallen angel!succubus!agatha harkness x angel!reader

summary: curiosity didn't fare well in heaven, but agatha always had a burning desire to learn more. it was only a matter of time before the angels properly kicked agatha out of heaven. despite what you insist, being pushed from heaven changes an angel even if they hadn't properly fallen.

warnings: religious imagery and discussion, smut, loss of virginity, afab!reader, innocence kink, fingering, oral sex

a/n: shout out to literally the best baby big sister ever @our-blood-is-our-ink for requesting this. I love it so much.

Event Masterlist

Agatha was always an intelligent angel. She was curious about everything since the day she was created. She chewed curiously on her halo and plucked the feathers of her archangel's wings to examine the gold-dusted feathers. 

It was safe to say she never grew out of that phase. She'd read just about every version of the holy book she could get her hands on. Even the ones written by humans that were foolish and twisted the words of her lord. Agatha wanted to know more. She'd sneer at how carelessly humans would write their baseless ideals amongst words so pure and sacred. It was frustrating to see that nearly every holy book had been tainted by the violence of humans. 

To make matters worse, not a single deity, angel, or god seemed worried about it. Some of them were bad enough to encourage or profit from it. They placed bets and laughed as their creations slaughtered each other senselessly. 

Despite their holy status, many other angels didn't seem to care. Agatha's concerns were often met with scuffs and eye rolls. Not a single heavenly body cared as much as she did. Their hatred was so intense they began turning Agatha away. Some would turn their backs on her. 

Not you, though. You were different. Agatha's proclamations were above you, but you were kind enough to stand up for her. When the other angels would gossip or go out of their way to exclude Agatha, you'd be right there to defend her. Maybe you couldn't wrap your head around human politics, but you at least tried to listen. That was all Agatha cared about. You stayed. Even when her rants were incomprehensible and nothing more than a string of frustrated scuffs and grunts. 

Unfortunately, you were pretty popular amongst the other angels. It wasn't a shock. You were practically the perfect angel: kind, understanding, innocent. They'd huddle around you like you were the Messiah just to coo at you and praise you for the most minor thing. Agatha hated it. Not because you didn't deserve that praise, but because she was jealous.

Jealousy was a two-sided street. Every Time you dared to choose Agatha over your friends, she'd have to deal with it. They'd scold her endlessly for taking you away and corrupting you with her "nonsense." 

You'd only vaguely known about the conflict. Your friends would grumble about your tardiness or absence, and Agatha would always give you vague answers when you asked why she didn't get along with your friends. It was nothing more than a personality conflict in your head. Agatha was hungry for knowledge, but your friends were much more easygoing. 

Personality conflicts don't end with ripped wings and cracked halos. 

The day Agatha was brutally shunned from the community of angels was quiet. It made your stomach churn. The other angels said nothing, but you could feel something was off. You spent the entire day roaming around heaven. Then you found something. 

Surrounded by torn feathers and liquid gold laid a deformed halo. You didn't think twice before leaping off the clouds of heaven into the earth. Only gods had the authority to banish someone from heaven. If their halo was still glowing, they'd been pushed off. 

You searched the thick forest for any sign of a fellow angel—feathers, blood, or maybe even another halo. Instead, you found something worse. A silver ring with AH engraved on it.

Agatha had fallen. 

𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪

"Agatha, Agatha!" 

Your voice was hoarse at this point. There was no telling how long you'd been screaming. Time was irrelevant to you know. All that mattered was finding Agatha. Even if she was dead, somebody had to pay for their crimes. The golden trail of blood confirmed your fears. Agatha wasn't cast out of heaven; she'd been pushed. 

"Agatha! Oh, thank heavens you're alive!" The relief of finding Agatha was short-lived. You ran over and immediately tried to help her onto her feet. "Come on, I have to get you back to heaven, and I'll report whoever did this to you." A frown overtook your face when Agatha pushed you away. 

"I can't go back up there. I've fallen." Her voice was weak, and she could barely stand upright. Agatha leaned against the tree for support to avoid staining your sweater. "You..you shouldn't be with me either. Just go back up there and pretend I don't exist." The words left a bitter taste in her mouth. Being alone was a pretty scary thought, but she couldn't risk you being tainted by Earth. "I've fallen. I couldn't go back up even if I wanted to." 

Your chest felt tight. "No, just because you fell from heaven doesn't mean you're a fallen angel! I saw your halo before I came down there; it was still glowing!" You frantically searched your satchel for gauze and something to clean the wound. "I just have to get you patched up, and then-" 

Agatha's hand reached out and caressed your cheek. "You can't carry me back to heaven by yourself. At least give me some time to heal first." She could never bring herself to make you upset. Deep down, she knew there was no way she could return. Part of her didn't even want to. Even if God extended his grace to her, there was no telling how the other angels would react to her return. "I know somewhere for you to take me." 

The walk was sad and slow.

Agatha seemed reasonably adjusted to living on Earth. She didn't doubt herself as she guided you through the never-ending forest. She wasn't concerned about wildlife or getting lost, even in her weakened state. You would've mistaken her for a nymph if you hadn't known better. It only took about an hour of walking for you to figure out why Agatha was so relaxed. 

She had a cabin. It was pretty large, but you could tell that Agatha used every square inch of it. The shelves were jam-packed with books of all kinds in many different languages. Even though the kitchen was spotless, you could tell she'd been using them for a while. The decor felt so natural to her. All the deep purple furniture was taken care of, but not brand new. 

 You were glad Agatha had somewhere to rest while she recovered, but you felt excluded from her life. Agatha was your closest friend. It wasn't right to feel so alienated in her space. 

Agatha limped to her room before collapsing on the bed. All the pain from walking with untreated wounds had started to catch up to her. Angels healed fast, but without her halo, she'd be bedridden for weeks. "I've always wanted to take you down here," She confessed. 

It made you smile. "I appreciate that." The smell of holy alcohol was awful, but you had to commit. "This is going to burn a bit." You rubbed the alcohol-soaked towel against the ripped skin where Agatha's wings should've been. It was hard to look at, but you suffered through it for her sake. Every feather you plucked came with a hushed apology and a kiss on her back. "They'll grow back soon…I promise." 

Agatha didn't have much faith but wouldn't bring you down with her nihilism. She wasn't even sure you knew what that was. "It'll be a long time until then." She raised her arm so you could tend to the rest of her wounds. She didn’t want to push you away. She didn’t want to suffer another beating, either. There was no telling what being on Earth would do to your mind. Angels were strong, but you were definitely on the softer side. It would be nothing for you to fall victim to the whim of a mountain lion or any other of god’s wild creations. Heaven was the only place for someone as pure and perfect as you. 

You rolled Agatha onto her back so you could see her face. “I don’t mind waiting,” you said. There was a long pause as you thought about what you had said. “Well,” you said, bracing for rejection, “I wouldn’t mind waiting with you.” Earth was new to you, but you figured it’d be no issue if you stayed in the cabin the whole time. Agatha was the only reason you were down here. You had no interest in anything else.

She let out a defeated laugh. How could she ever say no to you? Her hands wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer. “You’ll have to go back to heaven eventually,” she warned. It didn’t hold much water. All you had to do was pout, and you could easily make Agatha change her mind, but she at least had to pretend she wasn’t on the edge of spoiling you rotten. “Every day you spend down here is a day you must stay in heaven, got it?” Agatha extended her pinkie finger out to you. She didn’t know where you got the idea of a pinkie promise, but it was cute. 

Without thinking, you wrapped your pinkie around Agatha’s. You knew it was only a matter of time before Agatha started a pinkie promise. “And you said you’d never start a pinkie promise!” 

Agatha fondly rolled her eyes. "I'll always make an exception if it means keeping you safe." 

𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪

Leaving Agatha was hard, but returning to her was confusing. 

You had spent two weeks on Earth with Agatha before she forced you to return to heaven. It was a dreadfully long time without her. You occupied yourself with your heavenly duties, but not even those could distract you from how much you missed her. 

When you finally saw her again, Agatha looked different. Her hair was curlier and seemed to be growing by the second.  You also noticed there were bags under her eyes. It wasn't typical for an angel's appearance to change so drastically unless they were promoted. 

"Do you think you'll become an archangel when you return?"

Agatha stopped chopping the vegetables in front of her. She knew you would notice the way she was changing. You weren't dumb. Just uneducated. Agatha hated how everyone in heaven fawned over you; she wanted to protect your innocence. "Maybe, but if anyone gets promoted to archangel, it should be you." She cut off the end of a carrot before handing it to you. "You were only here two weeks, and there's already vegetables growing around here." 

You tentatively chewed on the carrot. Then you lit up. 

Literally. 

Your excitement was too much to contain and showed in the form of a blinding light admitted from your halo. It filled the entire cabin within seconds and lasted nearly a whole minute. 

Agatha rabidly blinked and rubbed her eyes. "That's one way to say they taste good," she chuckled. 

You frowned. "I didn't realize Earth was so dim." Heavenly light was the brightest light imaginable. Agatha should've been used to such brightness, but you brushed it off as her eyes adjusted to the forest's darkness. "It's nice to see something that's not white, gold, or silver, but the forests are so dim down here." 

As the day went on, you started noticing other changes about Agatha. 

Being on Earth changed her preferences a bit. When you two would read together, the books were usually nonfiction. It wasn't uncommon for you to sit down and read through an entire book about alchemy or astronomy. It was always fun to watch humans scramble and debate about their inaccuracies about the planet they lived on. 

Now, Agatha seemed interested in more fictional things. Romance was her go-to for reading. You didn't mind it. Love was beautiful, even if it was trapped between print and paper. The problem was that the novels would get weird. Not bad, but sometimes you needed help understanding what was happening.

The only way you'd learn is by asking. 

"I don't know what this means," you confessed. The blush on your face was from shame. Agatha had taught you so much, yet you didn't understand such a simple book. "The words make sense, but I can't figure out what they're doing." You sunk back into Agatha's chest and looked away from the book. This was the third book where the actions were almost impossible for you to imagine. You should've said something sooner, but it embarrassed you. 

"That's okay. What don't you understand?" Agatha was quick to spread your thighs. "It's very physical; it's easier to explain if I can do it to you." Her hands massaged your thighs in just the right way to get you to relax. The thought of touching you had become overwhelming. Agatha was starting to feel things she'd never felt before. She'd heard many names for it. Love, lust, desire. All of them were genuine feelings, but she wasn't sure which one described how she felt. "Don't be shy. I won't judge you." 

You turned back a few pages and scanned them to find one of the words. "Well, a lot of it doesn't make sense. What's a clit, and what does fingering mean in this context? I thought you fingered instruments. How do you do that to a person?" You flipped back even further. "And why does it say she's wet all the time? Does she have a bladder problem?" 

Agatha could only smile. She rolled down your shorts until the top was at the middle of your thighs. It was indeed a blessing how thin the underwear in heaven was.  Her thumb rubbed tight circles around your clit. "This is your clit. It's a bunch of tiny little nerves down there." She wrapped her free arm around your waist to keep you still. "It's really sensitive, so you have to be careful." Feeling your squirm and wiggle was so much fun. "And if you keep rubbing it just right-"

"I feel sticky!" You would've jumped out of Agatha's lap if she wasn't holding you. A strange buzzing formed under your skin. It was so warm and inviting but so bold and new at the same time. Sitting still was nearly impossible. "Is it supposed to be sticky," you asked frantically.

 Agatha rubbed your stomach to ease your frantic nerves. "You're fine. Everything is fine. That's what it feels like when you're wet." Just one finger had a difficult time slipping into your cunt. You were untouched. Free of corruption and ready to be claimed. She kissed up the side of your neck to ease your nerves. "When you start moving, that counts as fingering." 

A shaky breath tumbled from your lips. You were too overwhelmed to speak. It felt like a tight knot under your stomach, and you just wanted to pull the right string and watch it all unravel. Agatha was close to hitting the right spot, but you were too shy to ask. 

Just before that knot could unravel, Agatha pulled her fingers away. She reveled in the way your breathing staggered. You were a mess — her mess. "Does that answer your question?"

You cleared your throat and took a deep breath. "Um, I think that's everything." It was far from everything, but you weren't even sure where to start. So you just sat there in silence. You're too flustered to pretend to read anymore. "Can we go for a walk after we finish this chapter? I need to clear my head." 

"Anything for my superstar," she said. Agatha was a bit disappointed she couldn't play on your curiosity, but she had plenty of time to teach you. It wouldn't be long before Agatha had you begging for it. 

𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪

"You're a succubus." 

It's not an accusation. Rather, you stated a fact that had taken you almost four months to realize, but the truth nonetheless. 

Agatha stopped reading as she pondered what you said. She wasn't an angel anymore, and being a human wasn't possible. It would explain her seemingly unsatisfiable appetite and the constant desire to have you. Though she could feel her body was changing, it appeared rather underwhelming. "I guess you're right."

You sat up and looked down at Agatha. "You'll never be able to come back to heaven." It broke your heart. All you wanted was to be with Agatha forever. How was that supposed to happen if she was stuck on Earth — or worse, be forced to live in hell? Your chest tightened, and you felt hot tears prick the corners of your eyes. 

"Don't cry. Nothing is going to change between us." Agatha wiped away your tears. "I promise what we have down here is much better than anything we could make up there." She kissed your lips firmly. Heaven was the least of her concerns. Agatha wanted to be with you. It didn't matter where you two were. "Earth has the both of us, a nice cabin, and a magnificent garden. What else do we need?" 

You sniffled as you considered Agatha's words. "B-but, who are you going to feed from? I don't want you running off and doing that with other people!" A moment of silence passed between the two of you. Then your face got hot. "I don't know how to do any of that stuff. Are you sure you want to do that with me?" Your face felt incredibly hot. Intimacy was a mostly unexplored area for you. "What if I'm so bad at it that you end up starving?" 

"I don't think that's how it works," she said affectionately, "but I think it'd be better if we found out." Agatha pinned you down to the bed. It was much nicer having you underneath her. You looked like a scared doe. "You're too cute for your own good," she whispered before kissing you. 

You held on to the collar of Agatha as you feverishly kissed her back. It felt good. You turned your head and tried to collect your breath. "Will it hurt?" You trusted Agatha, but you were terrified. "Do I have to take all my clothes off?" 

"I'd never hurt you." Agatha immediately leaned down to attack your neck with open mouth kisses. She cursed the fact every angel in heaven was so nosy. All she wanted was to stake her claim over you, but there was no telling how they'd react. "I've seen you naked plenty of times before." 

You chuckled nervously. "Yeah, but it's a little different when it's like this." Despite your apprehension, you let Agatha have her way. Each kiss she gave you caused goosebumps to rise. "Are you sure you've never done this before? It feels really good." A small gasp escaped your lips when Agatha's teeth dug into your hip bone. "Be nice!" 

Agatha just huffed at you before making her way lower. She loved the plumpness of your thighs, but they were in the way of what she wanted. You were more than wet enough for Agatha to do as she pleased. "Fuck you taste so good," she moaned after licking a long strip up your slit. Two of her fingers eased inside your hole while her tongue lapped at your sensitive nub. "You're adorable." 

Your body twisted and squirmed as Agatha pleased you. It felt weird being so wet. Your slick had ruined the bedsheets. "Agatha, I don't know if I can take more of this!"  Your hand tangled in her hair. One moment you were pulling her away, and the next, you pushed her closer to your cunt. "I think something is happening!"

Agatha wrapped her arms around your thighs to keep them open. She continued her assault until the inevitable happened. Her tongue stuck out flat, so no matter which way you turned, your clit would run against it. Your cunt still sucked in her fingers as greedily as it did the first time. Not a single drop of your cum was wasted. Agatha would've easily pushed you into a second orgasm if it weren't for the particularly hard push you'd given her. 

Your body collapsed against the bed. Once again, you had many questions, but all of them would go unasked. Not because of shame— that was long gone now—but rather because of how tired you were. Just the thought of speaking was too much for you. 

Agatha looked down at you with nothing but love in her eyes. Your sweaty, desperate body was like art to her. It was the only thing she wanted to see. She leaned down and kissed you passionately. "You were more than enough for me. I never want to hear you doubt yourself again." Agatha slipped her arms underneath you and lifted you. "I know, but you have to get clean." 

It was your turn to let out a defiant huff. Unlike Agatha, you didn't have a disobedient bone in your body. You let Agatha bathe and redress you, along with all the other little details she loved to fuss over. You felt so small and helpless, but you liked it. Everything felt right. Agatha could never return to heaven, but that didn’t matter. Home was down on Earth with the woman you loved the most. Being an archangel was just more work, anyway.

#agatha fanfic #agatha harkness smut #agatha harkness fanfiction #agatha harkness fanfic #agatha harkness #agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness x you #Pluto's Halloween Bash 2023

[theregencywriter]

Whispers of an heiress

Benedict x Y/N

Dear Readers,

As the anticipation for the upcoming season reaches a fever pitch, I find myself compelled to share some intriguing tidings from the esteemed halls of London's high society. Prepare yourselves, for a debutante like no other is set to grace the Ton with her presence.

Whispers of the mysterious and alluring Y/N from the illustrious L/N family have reached my ears, and it appears she is destined to make a striking debut under the watchful eye of none other than the esteemed Bridgerton family. Yes, dear readers, you heard it here first – a debutante who has never tread upon the bustling streets of London is about to take the social scene by storm.

What could have prompted such a debut, you ask? Well, my sources suggest that it is a tale of family connections and newfound alliances. The Bridgertons, known for their impeccable taste and standing in society, seem to have taken Y/N under their wing for the season. One can only wonder what intrigues and scandals will unfold as she navigates the intricate dance of London's high society.

So, fasten your seat belts, dear readers, for the upcoming season promises to be nothing short of captivating. As always, I shall be here, keeping a keen eye on the comings and goings of the Ton, ready to unveil the secrets that lie beneath the glittering facade of Regency London.

Yours in gossip,

Lady Whistledown

—-

Benedict's insistent voice reverberated through the hallway of the Bridgerton residence, the soft glow of candlelight casting a warm ambiance on the polished surfaces and ornate furnishings. The anticipation of the evening hung in the air like a delicate waltz awaiting its first notes.

Outside Eloise's door, Benedict Bridgerton, his tall frame leaning casually against the banister, called out with a mix of impatience and amusement, "Come on, Eloise, we're all waiting for you. The carriage is practically tapping its wheels in impatience, and you know how punctual Mother insists we must be." Behind the door, muffled sounds suggested Eloise was in the final stages of preparation, her chosen gown rustling with the promise of elegance.

Benedict couldn't help but glance down the hallway, where the rest of the Bridgerton siblings stood in various states of readiness. Anthony, the eldest, adjusted the cuffs of his impeccable coat, while Daphne, ever the picture of grace, exchanged a knowing look with her husband, Simon. Colin, always the adventurer, checked his reflection in a nearby mirror, and Francesca stood by, a portrait of quiet sophistication.

"Honestly, Eloise, if you take any longer, we might miss the entire affair," Benedict called out once more, his tone a playful blend of exasperation and affection. The sound of Eloise's door creaking open heralded her appearance, and Benedict couldn't help but flash a wry grin. "There you are," he remarked, his eyes scanning Eloise's ensemble with approval. "Ready to charm the ton, I presume?"

As the Bridgerton siblings gathered, the anticipation heightened. Carriages lined up outside the residence, their polished exteriors reflecting the warm glow of lanterns that adorned the Bridgerton driveway. Benedict, ever the courteous son, extended a gloved hand toward his mother, ready to assist her into the awaiting carriage.

However, Lady Violet Bridgerton gracefully declined his offer with a knowing smile. "My dear Benedict, I'm afraid I shall be joining you all a bit later. I've decided to wait and personally accompany Y/N tonight. It's her debut, after all, and a lady must make a striking entrance."

"Mother, are you certain?" he inquired, a mixture of curiosity and amusement in his voice. Lady Violet nodded, her eyes sparkling with maternal warmth. "Absolutely, my dear. It's a rare occasion for a debutante, especially one unfamiliar with the intricacies of London society. I want to ensure she feels welcomed and supported on this momentous night."

Benedict couldn't help but smile at his mother's kindness and sense of duty. "Very well, Mother. We shall eagerly await your arrival with Y/N. I'm sure the two of you will make quite the entrance." With a nod, Lady Violet gracefully withdrew from the immediate party, her gaze lingering for a moment on her children before she disappeared into the house once more.

As the carriage rolled smoothly through the gaslit streets of London, Benedict turned to his elder brother, Anthony, his curiosity evident in his expression. "Anthony, pray tell, who is this Y/N from the L/N family that Mother is so keen on escorting tonight? I don't recall her name being part of our usual social circles."

Anthony, ever the responsible head of the Bridgerton household, leaned back against his seat, his gaze momentarily distant. "Y/N is the sole inheritor of the L/N estate. Rumor has it that she's been residing in the countryside, managing the family affairs with a level of competence that has garnered admiration but has kept her out of the bustling whirl of London society."

Benedict's interest piqued, and he raised an eyebrow inquisitively. "The countryside, you say? What brings her to London now?" Anthony's expression shifted, a hint of something akin to speculation in his eyes. "It seems she's ready to make her debut, Benedict. Mother has taken it upon herself to introduce her to the ton, ensuring she navigates these waters with the grace befitting a Bridgerton affair. It's a rather unconventional entrance, but Mother has her reasons."

#angst #benedict #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton #a bridgerton story #agatha danbury #anthony bridgerton #brimsley #queen charlotte spoilers #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton family #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton netflix #bridgerton spoilers

[marilynthornhilllover]

Hello. I would love to request Agatha using a magic strap to fuck R 🥹 smut maybe they fucking all the day

So good

Dark Agatha x fem! Reader

Warning: pure smut, indecent language, magic strap sex, praise kink, daddy Agatha, overstiumlation,after care, fluff.

♡♧♡♧♡♧♡♧♡♧♡♧♡♧♡♧♡♧♡♧♡♧♡♧♡♧♡♧♡

You whimpered softly as your limp body jolted up the bed, it's been hours since Agatha started the attack on your cunt with her magic strap. You had bought it months ago for her birthday as a cute gift but oh how the tables have turned.

She was going at a merciless pace. The strap was htting the sweet spot that made you see stars so good. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as your knuckles started turning white from holding onto the bedsheets for dear life.

"P-please daddy, want cum" you whispered softly, your brain not being able to form correct sentences as your vision became fuzzy. Agatha has fucked you numerous times before but, this strap was on another level of good. It allowed you to feel things and her as well.

" so fucking tight for daddy huh princess, go on, cum all over daddy's cock" she said in a stern voice, that's all you needed. You felt like you were soring through the stars. You felt like the bedsheets would rip apart at this point, your back arched as you cumed hard, moaning her name like a prayer.

"That's it baby, good girl" she whispered pecking soft but harsh kisses all over your face.

After you came back from your earth shattering orgasm, Agatha held you close to her. Rubbing the lower part of your back as she held you firm in her embrace. She kissed your forehead softly and started humming your favorite song.

" you did so good my darling" she cooed brushing the baby hairs that was stuck to your temple.

After you were fully back to normal Agatha got up and went into the bathroom and turned on the warm water for the bathtub. She made sure it was cool enough for you and added some lavender bathbombs to the water.

She sat you down in the water, her front pressed against your back as she carefully took her time and washed your skin.

After she cooked you dinner and cuddled you up as she watched your favorite show with you. After you fell asleep she took you up into her arms bridal style and took you to the room you both shared. You fell asleep to the sound of her smooth heartbeat and the rubbing of circles on your back.

The thing you loved most about Agatha is that even after being a complete evil soul she still had a soft spot for her "princess".

#fypシ゚viral #fanfic #marvel #natasha marvel #kate bishop #yelena belova #hulk #agatha fanfiction #agatha x reader #agatha harkness

[yelenasdiary]

Helloooooo! Happy Kinktober! If you are still taking requests for this event, may I request leader of cult Agatha H. and innocent reader. Agatha chooses someone outside her cult as a new recruit and the mission of her followers is to bring reader and indoctrinate her so that in the end she marries Agatha and have her babies

Everything Is Perfect My Love

Pairing Cult Leader! Agatha Harkness x Innocent! Reader

Summary: After a year of joining what you thought was an organisation to meet new like-minded people, you start to see the world through different eyes.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY! Minors & Men DNI!! Smut, Dark Angst, Dom! Agatha, Sub! Reader, Loss of Virginity, Legal Age Gap, Oral (R Receiving), Magic Strap, Manipulation, Indoctrination, Forced Marriage, Breeding, Mommy Kink, Use of Magic, Mentions of Murder, Mentions of Depression | 2.2K

AC:I really liked the idea of cult leader! Agatha!! Thank you for sending this, I hope you enjoy it! Please keep in mind that although Reader seems to be into the whole idea, they are brainwashed and have no idea what is truly happening.

October Special Masterlist

Every morning you woke up with a smile on your face and a new feeling of excitement since joining an organization a year ago. You haven't been the same, in fact, you found yourself happier with the new people around you that you now call your family. Every morning, you all would have breakfast together with the organization's leader, Agatha. She was rather tall, had blue eyes, long and wavy dark brown hair and a slight accent. Without her, you wouldn't be here. 

After the murder of your family and the FBI being unable to track down the person who took everything from you, you found yourself in a dark pool of depression. You felt alone and were barely making ends meet until two young women, slightly older than you, stopped you in the street by handing you a flyer for the Coven Organization. A community of women who offer their services in love, respect and acceptance. 

When you joined, you were aware that you didn't have the funds to even sign up but you explained things were hard for you right now and you really wanted to give this a try. The girls spoke to their leader, Agatha, who requested to meet you for coffee to discuss an alternative way for you to join the group. 

Fast forward a year later and you've never been happier. Each day is different, and you were excited to be with your new family. It took a little bit of time to adjust but you found comfort in Agatha whose door was always open for you whenever you needed a shoulder to cry on. As time went on, you grew rather close to the leader who was a few years older than you. She was kind, loving, gentle and patient with you. She knew you were pure, untouched and shy, exactly how she wanted you. 

"Well ladies" Agatha said before wiping any remains of breakfast on her lips onto a napkin, "I'm so very excited to let you know the festivities will commence in a week's time" she announced. The table erupted with cheer and excitement from those who knew what this meant, "you know what to do" Agatha added as her eyes scanned the large table, taking a second to look at everybody in the eye before her blue eyes landed on you. She smiled softly before she rose from her chair, "you are all dismissed, clean up and continue your duties from yesterday" she instructed. 

Everybody rose from the table, piling up the dishes from breakfast as Agatha walked over to you and placed her hands on your shoulders from behind, "See me in my office doll" she whispered before placing a kiss on your cheek and walking out of the dining room. The heels on her boots could be heard walking down the hall, fading as she entered her office. 

"You're the chosen one!" Salma turned to you, her dark brown eyes full of joy and excitement but her words left you confused, "the chosen one?" you questioned. 

"You'll see" Salma replied with a smile before she followed the others into the kitchen to wash up. You wandered down the hall to Agatha's office, knocking before turning the handle. "Come on in my love" her voice spoke from behind the wooden door. You opened the door and entered, closing it behind you.

 "Is everything okay Ma'am?" you asked as she walked up to you with a warm smile. "Everything is perfect my love, I wanted to talk to you" she replied, gently cupping your face with her right hand, an electric line of purple left her fingertips, out of sight from your eyes. "You have such beautiful eyes; I could get lost in them forever" she complimented as she saw the hint of her purple magic fill your eyes. 

"Thank you, Ma'am," you replied with a blushing smile. Agatha's thumb gently stroked your skin, she had you wrapped around her finger and you didn't even know it. "I love you" she spoke, her eyes never leaving yours as they widened. 

"I..I love you too" you admitted, leaving a brief second of silence to be shared between you both before Agatha kissed your lips softly. "Will you be my wife?" she asks, looking into your eyes once more. The purple in your eyes faded, a smile grew on your lips as you nodded, "forever" you replied.

--A Week Later—

It was the night of the festival, the community you called home were dressed in long purple gowns while Agatha's gown was different. Her outfit was purple mixed with different shades of light and dark purples. She sat on her infamous throne as she watched the enjoyment of others with you by her side. The community were celebrating your engagement to their leader alongside the surprise wedding that Agatha planned. 

It took you by surprise at first, but you quickly felt comfort and a sense of belonging that you didn't want to ignore. You both said "I do" while looking into each other's eyes and you swore you saw something sparkle ever so slightly in Agatha's eyes. "Tomorrow, we enter the next stage my loves" Agatha turned on her heels to face the following she had made, taking another moment to look everybody in the eyes for a brief second, knowing she was unstoppable. 

Later that night, your things were moved from one of the shared rooms and into Agatha's room. "Is there anything you need my love?" she asked as she wrapped her arms around you, pulling you closer. You shook your head, "What is the next stage about?" you asked with a hint of worry in your tone. 

"To celebrate you" Agatha replied with a soft smile before brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, "and our love" she added. Looking into your eyes, the only thing she could see was the love and dedication you had for the woman standing in front of you, "you'll do anything for me, won't you love?" she asked. Without a thought, you nodded, "I love you, Ags" you replied, "I'll do anything for you. You saved me" you admitted. "Without you or this community you've created, I would've been lost, maybe not even here" you went on, tears filling your eyes. 

"Shhh, my love, it is okay" the dark-haired woman kissed your lips softly before wiping your tears with her thumb, "nothing will ever, ever hurt you again" she added as a promise. "Do you trust me?" she asked, her hands finding your waist again. You nodded once more causing Agatha to smile, "tomorrow will be a very big celebration after tonight" she informed you. 

"Why?" you questioned watching Agatha's eyes drop to your lips. "Because my love, you are ready and it's going to be perfect" she answered before kissing your cheek, moving down to your neck. Purple magic flashed from her fingertips out of your vision once more, a soft moan left your lips as you wrapped your arms around the back of Agatha's neck. Her lips were soft and warm as she gently sucked to leave reddish marks as a form of claiming you behind the closed doors. 

Carefully, Agatha guided you to the bed, laying you on your back as she continued to kiss and gently mark your neck as light moans left your lips. "M..m..mommy, please" the words left your lips even surprising you as Agatha leant back, looking at you with a smirk. "Oh darling, you're going to so good for mommy" she replied before working her hands up your stomach to remove your tee. Her lips kissed your chest to the valley between your breasts as she unclasped your bra, throwing it to the side.

"W-wait" you stopped her with a hand wrapped around her wrist, "I've n-never" you stuttered, almost too worried to look into her eyes. Agatha kissed your lips once more before looking into your eyes once again, "I know" Agatha admitted, "it's okay, I'm going to take such good care of you my little bug" she added. Her purple magic made your eyes flicker, you nodded, "I trust you" you replied. Her magic was working, of course it was, she studied the dark hold to a tee! 

Before you knew it, your panties were thrown to the floor and your body almost covered with the markings of Agatha's lips. She paused her actions for a brief moment to walk over to the wardrobe, grabbing a dark purple plastic dildo and a black harness before undressing herself. You'd never seen somebody as beautiful as Agatha, you wanted her in every way you could think of. The small wet patch that was on your panties would've been a lot bigger if they were still on. You couldn't help but rub the inside of your thighs as you watched the older woman attach the dildo to the harness. 

"You look worried my love" Agatha smirked as she walked back over the bed, crawling over you. The tip of the toy rested on top of your pussy; the coldness made you lightly gasp at the feeling. "That's b-big" you replied as your eyes were locked onto the drop that sat against your naked skin. "It'll feel so good inside you baby, I promise" Agatha's words comforted you and she saw that as your body began to relax. 

"I won't hurt you my love" she added as she continued to kiss down your body, two of her fingers gently rubbing through your folds. "Mm, let mommy taste you baby" She whispered before lying beside you. Without hesitation, you straddled her face and slowly lowered yourself onto her tongue. You moaned at the feeling of her tongue swirling around your clit, giving you a whole new sensation that you'd never felt before. 

Agatha hummed at the taste of you, tipping her tongue inside your untouched hole making you slightly jump. "It's okay love" she reminded you, bringing her thumb to your clit, rubbing soft circles as you moaned her name, "don't stop!" your hands landed on her thighs to for support as she worked her magic on you. "You can cum baby" she said in an almost muffled voice. You weren't exactly sure what she meant by that but that thought didn't last long when you felt your legs shake and a loud moan left your lips. 

"You taste so sweet" Agatha hummed after she helped you ride out your high, helping you off her. "That was" you paused, unable to stop yourself from blushing, "great" you added after a moment of silence. Agatha looked at you with a proud smirk, "that's how it's going to feel again, lay back and let mommy breed you baby" she replied with hunger in her eyes. You chuckled at her words knowing she couldn't actually get you pregnant, so you thought. 

You laid down and watched as Agatha covered the tip of the fake cock with lube before sliding it up and down between your folds, making you moan once more. "You're going to be such a good mommy" she said as she pushed the tip against your hole. You could already tell it was going to hurt and asked her to stop, "it's going to hurt, I've heard others say it does" you said in fear. 

"Only for a few moments, bug" Agatha's hand gently stroked your cheek, "take a deep breath for me" she added before moving her hand from your face to support her as her other hand helped line up her strap. You did as she said and took a deep breath in, your eyes squeezed shut as you felt the toy slowly enter you. "Let it out my love, it's okay, it'll only hurt for a moment" Agatha spoke to calm you. 

After a few moments, the pain faded. "I'm okay" you smiled softly at your wife who at your words began to move her hips, sliding the toy in and out of your wet pussy. She was right, she always was. The pain was turned to pleasure as the room filled with the sounds of your moans and Agatha thrusting into you at a faster past. 

"You're doing so well for me baby" Agatha praised you.

Your eyes rolled back at the pleasure, she used that moment to spin her magic, making the fake cock something a little more special. Her lips found your neck once more, "I wasn't joking darling, you're going to be the best mother to our babies" she whispered softly into your hear. Your orgasm was building faster with every thrust, your hands wrapped around your new wife's back, nails stretching at her back. "I'll d-do any-anything for you!" you moaned, opening your eyes for Agatha to see her purple-colored magic filling your natural color. With a few more thrusts you came once more, your nails dug harder into Agatha's skin while she released her cum into your wound, painting your insides with her seed. You felt the warmth filling you, but your mind was too hazed to care. 

Agatha cleaned you up after a few you both caught your breath; she watched as you pulled the covers over yourself and snuggled into them while she changed into a fresh pair of pajamas. After watching you from afar, having your family murdered, taking you in and now making you hers forever, she couldn't help but smile proudly to herself and she couldn't wait for you to discover your pregnancy even though she already knew her magic had worked.

Taglist: @tryingmybest233333 | @music-4ever | 

#yelenasdiary asks #anon #fanfiction #Agatha Harkness #Agatha Harkness x Reader #agatha harkness smut #marvel #kinktober #darktober

[annie-mit-ie]

Temporary - Chapter 1 (Agatha/Wanda Story)

Story-Overview // >>> next chapter

Chapter 1 - Prologue

WordCount: 1.3k

A/N: Hey y’all! I am back with another story that is so twisted I had to write several spreadsheets to get the storyline right and reproducible. This following chapter is short, but sweet and as a prologue just right to set the tone for my new baby. Here we go again - let’s see where this goes.

As always, thank you so much for reading! I hope you all enjoy whatever I am coming up with now!

Song: The idea for this story title came to me when I listened to Halsey’s Bells In Santa Fe and I really do believe you should give it a listen to, because it certainly inspired parts of the overall story-idea. :) Agatha-Tag List: @danvers97 @ara-a-bird @queennoella087 @our-blood-is-our-ink @harknessesbae @dazzlinghahn @emril-osvigne @kusenpai​ Temporary-Tag List: @drukkari-forever​ ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Chapter One _______________________________________________________________________ Agatha Harkness didn’t mean to fall for Wanda Maximoff. Long, elegant fingers fly over her computer’s keyboard, as the brunette stares at the screen, trying to put her thoughts into the right words. The carefully curated letters are reflecting in the blue of her eyes and her face is bunched up, leaving a trail of deep lines in her forehead. 10.38am. Agatha sighs and rolls her shoulders back a couple of times before stretching her fingers and adjusting her posture. It has taken her way too long to find the right time and place to meet the woman occupying her every thought to screw this up now. Closing her eyes for a short moment, she takes another deep breath. To her right, there lies a well-read book with a dark, broken in cover. Glistening red letters decorate the front, the name „Wanda Maximoff“, practically yelling at her in bold lettering - next to it, the book’s title jumps right at her as she carelessly traces the word with her fingernail. „Scarlett“. A fond smile finds its way onto the brunette’s lips while her soft fingertips come to a stop at the end of the second ’t’. She taps it a couple of times thinking back at the book’s content. Right as she found it online a few weeks ago, she devoured it within a couple of hours, drawn in by this story of a devilish witch going after a baby witch to find her destiny and fulfill her life wishes. The magic described within feels almost too huge and majestic to be real. Too murderous to come from such a lovely author’s mind. Shaking her head, Agatha lets go of the cover and looks back at the screen. Struggling to find her words, the brunette huffs and puts the author’s name into google once again, simply staring at her perfect face. The cursor hasn’t moved in a long while and time is slowly but surely running out. Writing the letter again and again, Agatha ends up erasing it all and starts from the beginning - writing a whole paragraph only to delete it yet again. This letter needs to be perfect. It has taken her ages to find a chance to meet the author, her favorite author and tell her how much she adores her. Wanda Maximoff has been a firm part of Agatha’s mind for quite some time now and she has watched every single interview she could possibly find, desperate to take in every single facet about the red-heads mysterious personality. An annoyed look on her face, she sighs once more and finally slams the computer shut before looking at the wall opposite of her where a huge mirror is placed to make her office appear more spacious. She stares at herself. “What?“, a huff escapes her lips as she raises an eyebrow, allowing the blue of her eyes to shine even brighter in the sunlight coming in through the wide-opened window. Agatha shakes her head and gets up from her desk, picking up a scruffy bunny as she leaves the room. Stroking his little head, the brunette makes her way into the kitchen, desperate for a cup of tea to calm her nerves and finish this god-forsaken letter. --- Unaware of the restlessness she causes in the other woman, Wanda also stares at her desk, a script covered in notes, scribbles and thin colorful markers right in front of her. Next to her pen, that she carelessly put down after taking her last note, a phone has been ringing non-stop for the past few minutes. The author stares at the screen with blank eyes before she closes them and leans back in her chair. A nagging feelings runs up her spine, urging her to take a look at her phone again. Rolling her eyes, she sighs and finally takes the call. “What?“, thin fingers run through ruffled red hair that desperately needs to be washed. The last couple of days have been stressful and Wanda does not know where to find all the time she needs to write a new book, organize a book-tour and answer fan letters she gets from her readers. Some ask her about her personal life and work, some talk about her books and characters, and some are full of stories and emotions, getting Wanda teary eyed whenever she reads. “Wanda, are you still there?“, a concerned voice halls through the speaker. “What? Uh, yeah!“ Wanda rapidly shakes her head to get her concentration back on what’s most important right now. “You… You want to stock up on seats for the book tour? Are you sure? Are we selling enough tickets?“ She quints and bites her lips, waiting for a response. Her manager doesn’t take long to respond and his answer is short: Yes. Yes and Wanda desperately needs to stop worrying and asking this many questions. Her work is good, but not good enough to start acting like a Diva now. The redhead suppresses a groan, a flaming red sensation piling up in her whole body. This is giving her a headache. All she wanted was to share her stories, to give her running thoughts a space to exist to keep them from occupying her dreams and every part of her brain, even when she is awake. The young author doesn’t pay much attention to whatever her management is telling her. It has to be something about the upcoming tour date. Probably time management. They will send her an e-mail anyway, so why bother clouding her brain with this kind of information now? Wanda scuffs, losing control over herself. “Come again?“ The manager must have heard her and she rapidly moves her hand up to cover her mouth. “Oh, it’s nothing. I just… I have to go now. Bye!“ Wanda speaks faster than ever before, nearly yells the word and throws the phone away as soon as her finger hits the red button, “Fucking men.“ She shakes her head again and gets up, leaving the room and closing the door behind her. As the key clicks in the lock, her shoulders fall. Rolling them back, she forces a cracking sound in her spine before straightening out her arms by pointing to the floor with her hands on each side of her body. If she closed her eyes, she might as well start elevating just like Scarlett does in her books. A wicked grin appears on her face before she releases a long breath, ready to take the night off. --- It’s the middle of the night as Agatha Harkness makes her way back into her office. She nearly trips over yet another copy of a Maximoff novel that must have fallen from the couch as she hurries through the dark. Cursing herself, gives the book an annoyed look before picking it up and taking it with her through the heavy wooden door. A dream kept her up and forced her into an upright position, urging to finish her letter. The brunettes eyes scan the dark as she once again tries to come up with the right words to convince the red-head to meet her in person. Stroking the scarlet letters as she thinks, she bites her lip until it bleeds. The moon is mirrored in her crystal blue eyes and a cheeky smile appears on her face when her fingers finally grasp the pen and start scribbling a single line in cursive lettering.

#agatha harkness #wanda maximoff #agatha fanfiction #wanda fanfiction #Kathryn hahn #Elizabeth olsen #wandavision #wandavision AU #Not so AU AU #Temporary AU fanfic #wagatha #Wanda & Agatha #lesbian Agatha

[hopelesslygaysstuff]

The Art of Healing: Chapter 6

Photo Cred: Me

pairing: wanda maximoff x fem! OC

summary: wanda discovers her dominant side

content warnings: smut, restraints, overstimulation, fingering, dildo, subspace

word count: 5k+

Series Masterlist

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! happy reading ♡

A New Discovery

“Alright hon, remember what we practiced.”

Wanda smiled slightly, used to Agatha’s nagging. She would be annoyed if she didn’t know that the older woman was simply looking out for her. One might even say that she was worried, but Wanda knew better than to bring that up. 

“Of course,” Wanda turned towards the woman beside her, noting the way her blue eyes scanned the room they were in. “I’ll let you know if it becomes too much, I promise.”

At those words, Agatha finally turned her gaze towards Wanda. It was their third time out of her cabin, and an important night as well. The first time had been to a small market in a nearby town, and as Agatha suspected, Wanda had telepathy powers in addition to her chaos magic. 

That first time was overwhelming, to say the least. Agatha had never performed so many memory replacement spells as that day. But what can you do? It’s not like she could let those poor townspeople remember Wanda falling to her knees and covering her ears while scarlet waves of magic pulsated from her as she processed everyone’s thoughts for the first time. 

The second time was much easier, since Wanda had known what to expect. They’d gone into the city, simply walking down the street rather than the overwhelming environment of an enclosed space. It was easier that way, Wanda didn’t get stuck in anyone’s thoughts, as they walked past too quickly. 

A man bumped into Agatha, jostling her from her thoughts. She sent a glare his way, before Wanda’s gentle hand on her arm redirected her focus. Glancing down, she took a breath, her eyes locked on the pendant swinging from the redhead’s neck. 

“You know how to power that on, right? I spent a lot of time on it.” Agatha knew her attempts at nonchalance were lacking, but Wanda chose not to comment, instead sending a soft smile her way and bringing her fingers to the pendant. Rubbing it between her forefinger and thumb gently, she nodded, taking a solidifying breath of her own. 

Agatha eyed Wanda’s pendant briefly, scanning the runes she’d etched onto the surface. As soon as Wanda’s magic made contact with the runes, it would send a protective shield over her mind, preventing her from reading anyones thoughts. It was their failsafe, just in case the amount of horny thoughts flying around the nightclub became overwhelming, 

“Yes,” Wanda dropped her hand, her eyes finding the bar through the smoky haze of the nightclub. “I’ll be alright, but first I want a drink.”

Agatha rolled her eyes, knowing that Wanda would order a shirley temple like she always did. Making their way to the bar, blue eyes scanned the many faces, searching for a target. 

“Let me find someone,” Wanda’s voice was low, her breath already smelling like cherries as she murmured the words into Agatha’s ear. “Trust me.”

Sighing, Agatha nodded, feeling slightly out of her element as she gave up what felt like the last of her control for the evening. They’d decided to find a submissive to play with for the night, as part of Wanda’s education. Essentially, Agatha wanted her to finetune her control over her own emotions, and what better way to do that than to exert control over an eager submissive?

Wanda leaned against the counter, sipping her drink as she lazily scanned the crowd around her. Bodies swarmed on the dance floor, laughter and singing rising as the crowd moved slightly out of sync. Music thrummed through the floor, the vibrations of it practically tangible as it wrapped around her body, urging her to move. 

Random thoughts filtered through her mind, and Wanda breathed through it, focusing on Agatha’s past lessons. Just keep breathing, and it will pass. It would apparently get easier over time, and eventually her magic would filter everyones thoughts on autopilot. Wanda couldn’t wait, and distracted herself by trying to hear only a single person's thoughts at once. 

‘Damn, I like the way he’s moving against me. I wonder what his di-’

Wanda visibly shook her head, moving onto the next person quickly. She found it easier this time, her few weeks of practice paying off as the background hum of multiple thoughts layering atop each other faded. 

‘I hope she collars me soon, I just want to be her good boy forever. Oh look, here she comes!’ 

Her curiosity piqued, Wanda found the man who’s thoughts she’d just left. He was near the edge of the dance floor, a wide smile on his face as a tall woman walked up to him. She leaned down, saying something in his ear as he bowed his head, her hands roaming his body. 

Agatha sidled up next to her, hands tight around her waist as she started dancing. “You look suspicious, hon. Dance with me, I know you can multitask.”

Wanda smirked, grinding her hips backwards and feeling pleased at the gasp that escaped Agatha’s plump lips. The hands around her waist tightened, and Wanda felt herself grow wet when she felt the bulge of the brunette’s strap against her. She let herself get lost in the feeling, gently grinding against Agatha as she focused on the woman across the floor. 

‘I can’t wait to make him mine, I hope he likes the design I chose. I want this to be perfect.’ 

The image of an intrinsically designed collar flashed briefly through Wanda’s mind, and she smiled, pleased that the man was getting his wish. A wave of possessiveness shot through her, and she quickly pulled her mind from the tall woman’s, not wanting to get her emotions confused with hers. 

“Good job, Wanda.” Agatha’s voice was raspy, one of her hands snaking around to gently rest against her throat. Wanda swallowed, her breath shortening slightly as arousal pooled in her gut. She shook her head, refocusing on her mission. 

Find a submissive. That shouldn’t be too hard, right?

“We could always postpone this and head back to the cabin,” Agatha’s voice was raspy, her hips moving suggestively against Wanda’s ass. The redhead faltered, almost folding before she locked eyes with a girl at the bar. The girl was sipping a drink slowly, her eyes wide as she watched them dance against each other. 

Wanda smirked, bringing a hand up to Agatha’s head and enjoying the feeling of her lips against her neck. Then, she gently yanked her head up. “Stop, you’re distracting me. Besides, I just found someone. So keep it in your pants, witchy.”

Delighting in the frustrated groan she heard, Wanda ground her hips backwards one final time before making her way towards the girl. Agatha followed behind, her attention successfully redirected, for the time being. 

‘Holy shit, they’re coming my way. Act cool, don’t be fucking weird.’

Agatha snorted, and Wanda realized that she was also reading the girl’s mind. Nudging her slightly, she sent a mental reminder to release her control over the situation, wanting to take the girl’s submission for herself. Afterall, it was Wanda’s control that was on the line. 

‘Good job hon, you’re getting better at communicating telepathically.’ 

Wanda shuddered as Agatha’s words filtered through her brain, the girl’s thoughts still swimming about as she tried to act natural. It was cute really, mentally she was panicking, but she maintained a straight face as the pair approached her. 

Her only tell was the slight tremble of her fingers and her wide eyes as Wanda sat down next to her, Agatha claiming the seat on the other side of the young girl. At first, Wanda didn’t say anything, choosing instead to let her eyes roam the girl’s face as she took her in. 

She had pretty eyes, her eyeliner subtle as mascara coated her long lashes. A few specks of the dark pigment had landed on her cheeks, and Wanda longed to reach up and wipe it away, but refrained. She didn’t want to scare her away too soon. 

“I’m Wanda,” She made sure to keep her voice low, suppressing a smirk as she watched the girl physically react to her words. A light blush appeared on her cheeks, her lips parting as she stumbled over her words briefly. 

“Hi, I’m um- my name is Sarah.” Her words were breathy, her lips clamping shut the moment her introduction was finished. Agatha chuckled, reaching up a hand to play with a strand of Sarah’s short hair. 

“I like this one, let’s play with her.” Blue eyes flashed as Sarah whipped around, her fingers trembling against the glass. Wanda took a peek inside her mind, pleased to see the girl’s thoughts swirling with thoughts of both of them on top of her. 

“Behave yourself for once, please.” Green eyes met blue, and flashed in warning. Agatha conceded, releasing her hold on the young girl’s hair. She moved her hands to a much safer location, resting lightly on her glass while Wanda reached a hand towards Sarah’s rapidly reddening face. 

Cool fingers met her jaw, and the girl turned towards Wanda with wide eyes, her lips slightly parted as her gaze roamed the redhead’s face. Smiling softly, Wanda let her fingers lightly trace the girl’s lips, her eyes locked on them as she felt Sarah’s breath hitch. 

“Do you want to go somewhere quieter?” Wanda made sure to let her lips press briefly against Sarah’s ear, enjoying the way the girl shuddered beneath her. Agatha watched with a small smirk, nodding her approval when the young girl nodded eagerly. 

Making their way towards the back, Wanda made sure to keep her hands on the young girl. They lingered around her waist, her hips, drifting downwards as Sarah stumbled slightly. Agatha followed half a step behind, reading the girl’s mind as she ensured that Wanda wasn’t getting too overwhelmed. 

Wanda was feeling fantastic. Everytime she moved her fingers, even slightly, Sarah’s breath changed and she would trip over her own feet. Wanda found it adorable, and made sure to keep as much of her body touching Sarah’s as she could. 

Eventually, they made their way to one of the playrooms provided at the back of the club, Agatha murmuring something to the security just outside the area as Wanda ushered the girl inside. Making her way after them, Agatha shut the door firmly as Wanda pushed Sarah against the wall, trapping her with her hips. 

Sarah didn’t seem to mind, her hands shaking slightly as she hesitantly put them on Wanda’s waist, her eyes locked on the redhead’s lips. She arched her back slightly, pressing herself against Wanda's as much as she could, enjoying the way green eyes darkened at the action. 

Feeling the hands around her waist tighten, Wanda maneuvered herself slightly until her thigh slipped between Sarah’s legs. Pressing her firmer against the wall, she smirked when the girl gasped, her hips rutting against her thigh slightly. 

Sensing movement behind her, Wanda glanced over her shoulder, watching as Agatha slowly made her way over to a chair and sitting down. She crossed her legs, getting comfortable as she gave Wanda a single nod. 

‘Go ahead, hon. Let’s see you in action.’

Wanda took a breath, calming herself slightly as Sarah’s hands squeezed her waist once more. The girl grew bolder, her hips moving faster as her hands drifted lower. Wanda turned back towards her, noticing the way her pupils were blown and her breath was coming out in short, desperate pants.  

Moving quickly, Wanda gripped Sarah’s wrists and pinned them to the wall. Pressing her full body against hers, she captured her lips between her own, letting her teeth graze them in warning. Using one hand to hold the girl’s wrists above her head, the other drifted towards her chest, fingers quickly finding her nipple and rolling it. 

The girl moaned, leaning into her touch, and Wanda throbbed. 

“Please.”

Smirking, Wanda pulled back. Sarah’s eyes were slightly glazed, unfocused as she tried to move her hips. It was exhilarating, knowing that she’d made the poor girl this desperate. All from a few simple touches and a single kiss. Wanda wondered what would happen if she did more. 

“Please what? Use your words, darling.” Wanda rolled her fingers again, trapping the girl’s nipple between them. Sarah arched against her, a small whine escaping her as she struggled briefly against the redhead’s hold on her wrists. Pulling slightly, a surge of arousal shot through her when the girl let out a moan, the noise strained as she attempted to surge forwards. 

“I- please… fuck.” She couldn’t get any words out, and Agatha chuckled slowly from her chair. Wanda felt something shift inside her at the girl’s desperation. Something calmed, her mind sharpening past her own arousal as she focused solely on Sarah. 

Humming, Wanda moved closer. She let her lips slightly graze the trembling ones before her. Sarah’s hips moved again, and Wanda sighed. “You can do better than that, sweetheart. Try again for me.”

A frustrated groan sounded out, muffled by Wanda’s lips. Biting down slightly, she slowly backed up, pulling Sarah with her. Catching a glimpse of the bed, Wanda pushes the trembling girl towards it, reveling in the gasp Sarah releases when the backs of her knees hit the mattress. 

Breaking the kiss, Wanda pushes her firmly down until she’s seated on the end of the bed. Nudging Sarah’s knees open, she moves to stand between them, her hands tangling with her hair. Moving slowly, the girl moves her hands up Wanda’s thighs before wrapping them around her waist. 

The movement seems hesitant, and Wanda knows what it means. Sarah’s nervous, yet filled with anticipation at the same time. It’s exactly what Wanda had felt like for her first time with Agatha, and for a moment, she feels like she’s weirdly looking through a mirror. 

“I just…” Sarah struggles with her words for a moment, and Wanda just strokes her cheeks gently, calming her down slightly. Taking a peek inside her head, she’s surprised to find that it's working, and Wanda feels a rush of something at the knowledge that she is directly influencing the emotions and arousal of another person. 

“I want you to touch me, and-” Sarah pauses, biting her lip. Wand nods reassuringly, making sure to keep her eyes soft. “I want you to make me feel good, and I’m already feeling fuzzy.”

Moving closer, Wanda places her lips next to the girl’s ear. Making sure that her voice is low, Wanda tangles her hand in Sarah’s hair before yanking her head back gently, a strangled moan escaping her. 

“Elaborate.” 

Sarah whimpers, closing her eyes briefly as she gathers her thoughts. When she opens them again, Wanda sees that her pupils are blown, black taking over her irises. “Everytime you say something, or tell me what to do, or touch me and move me around where you want me to go, I just sink into this sort of fog?” 

Wanda glances over at Agatha, knowing what Sarah means. It’s slightly intimidating, to know that she’s guiding Sarah into subspace. It’s a lot of trust from the young girl, but at Agatha’s reassuring smile, Wanda calms slightly. Breathing deeply, she calms her racing heartbeat, pausing for a moment before returning her focus to the girl seated before her. 

“That’s a good thing, darling. I promise.” Wanda lets her thumb rest on the girl’s jaw. Sarah closes her eyes, parting her lips as Wanda’s fingers inch closer to them. “Just relax, and let me make you feel good.”

Agatha leaned back in her seat, clenching her thighs together slightly as she watched Wanda gently guide the younger girl into a deeper state of submission. She was quite proud, having worked hard to teach Wanda everything she knew about the kinkier aspects of sex. 

Sure, sex was physical. Agatha, however, liked the mental component involved with the kinkier side of intimacy. She liked the power dynamic, and the shifting of power with a single touch or look. Most importantly, she liked being in control.  

However, in the past few weeks, Wanda had been testing that control that Agatha so desperately craved. She could sense a budding dominatrix in the young redhead, and taught her as best she could without letting go of the reins. Tonight however, was the first step for Wanda in learning to be in control of her own emotions and powers and also exert that same control over a submissive. 

But alas, Agatha was reminiscing. She refocused, her ears picking up on the faint sound of lips dancing against each other as the younger girl moaned openly into Wanda’s mouth. Taking in the scene, Agatha was proud to see that Wanda had pushed Sarah fully onto the bed, hovering over her with her thighs on either side of the girl’s hips. Her hands held down her wrists, and the younger girl was desperately arching her back, seeking any source of friction she could find. 

Diving into Wanda’s surface thoughts, Agatha smiled at the organized mind she found. Wanda was completely aware of her own powers and emotions, keeping everything in check as she focused on her control with Sarah. As predicted, exerting control over someone else helped Wanda immensely with control over herself. Surprisingly, more than submission did. 

Agatha made a mental note to bring this up later to the redhead, before settling fully back in her seat and enjoying the show. After all, who said she couldn’t have fun? Besides, Wanda’s ass looked great from this angle. 

“Pick a safe word.” Wanda pulled back slightly, repeating her words when Sarah tried to chase her lips. Her blonde hair was strewn around her head, her eyes rapidly blinking as she processed. 

“Um,” She tried to get some words out, but couldn’t think of anything. Wanda was still in her mind, and upon realizing how spaced out Sarah was, used her free hand to gently stroke the girl’s face. It seemed as though her touch helped ground the girl, as her thoughts became more coherent, a word popping into existence. 

“Vanilla.”

Wanda raised an eyebrow, and Agatha chuckled behind her. A blush spread rapidly on the young girl's face, her eyes glancing between the Wanda on to pof her and the brunette in the chair. 

“Behave.” The words were sharp, and Sarah’s heart stopped momentarily before she realized that it wasn’t directed at her. Agatha’s eyebrows rose, and she narrowed her eyes as her and Wanda stayed locked in a staring contest, the moment passing quickly. 

Turning back to the girl currently trapped beneath her, Wanda smiled slowly. “That’s a good word, remember it.” 

Nodding quickly, Sarah glanced back down towards the redhead’s lips. They parted, a warm breath that tasted faintly of cherries hitting her cheeks, and she moaned as they met hers. It was impossible to describe just how soft the redhead’s lips were, and before she could start to think of any adjectives, her mind went blank as Wanda’s tongue brushed her lower lip. 

Gently exploring the younger girl’s mouth, Wanda slowly maneuvered her body as she swallowed all the moans Sarah so freely offered up. Her leg moved between the girl’s parted thighs, and using a firm amount of pressure, Wanda connected her knee to Sarah’s core. 

Gasping, the young girl briefly disconnected her lips from Wanda’s. She arched into the touch, and Wanda took the opportunity to attach her lips to her neck, sucking softly as moans and gasps flooded her ears. 

“Fuck.” That’s the only word Sarah can seem to get out, her eyes rolling back as Wanda bites down. The sting of her teeth digging into the soft skin of the girl’s neck causes pleasure to race towards her already over heating core. Moving slightly more frantically, Sarah rolls her hips against the knee pressing so deliciously against her. 

Wanda smirked. 

Giving the young girl absolutely no time to think or process what was happening, Wanda pulled away. Pulling the cuffs that were pre-attached to the headboard towards her, she swiftly attached them to Sarah’s wrists. 

Struggling uselessly against the restraints, Sarah wanted to whine in protest when the redhead dismounted her. The knee against her leaking pussy disappeared, and she let out a shaky breath at the loss. Looking over towards the brunette, Sarah closed her legs at the feeling of those all-knowing blue eyes roaming her skin. 

“Don’t do that.” 

At the sound of Wanda’s commanding voice, Sarah whipped her head around, her eyes landing on the vibrating dildo the woman held. She whimpered, confused as Wanda began walking towards her, setting the toy on the bed before gripping the girl’s ankles tightly. Sarah’s eyes widened in understanding, and she moaned as Wanda forced her legs apart. 

“Do not hide yourself from us. Good submissives let their dominants see every inch of them, and you’re a good girl, aren’t you?” Green eyes bore into hers as Wanda spoke, her head tilting slightly. Something about the gesture made Sarah’s blood run cold, and arousal rush towards her already drenched pussy. 

“Yes ma’am.” She squeaked, her breaths speeding up slightly as Wanda raised a single eyebrow. 

This time, it was Agatha who spoke up. “Yes, what? Elaborate for us, sweet cheeks.”

Blood rushed towards Sarah’s already pink face, and she suddenly had to urge to hide. However, there was nowhere to go, Wanda had made sure of that. She took a steadying breath, then managed, “Yes, I’m a good girl.” 

The wide smile of Wanda’s face made the embarrassment worth it, and Sarah sighed in relief when she released her tight hold on her ankles, an unspoken command to keep her legs spread as she reached for the dildo. 

The short skirt that Sarah was wearing was ripped off, both Wanda and Agatha making pleased sounds at the lack of underwear on her. 

“I’m going to make you feel very good, is that alright with you?” Wanda’s gaze was hot, her fingers slowly collecting the wetness from Sarah’s pussy and spreading it onto the dildo. The girl was drenched, juices flowing freely as she attempted to buck against her hand. 

Nodding quickly, Sarah bit her lip. This was what she’d been hoping for, to be fucked by a dominant woman, and now her wish was coming true. It was better than anything she could have imagined. 

“Just remember, if it gets to be too much, use your safe word.” Agatha reminded the girl, her own hand slipping beneath her waistband. She had her legs spread, fingers gently stroking her own protruding clit as a damp spot formed in her underwear. 

Wanda glanced back, taking in the sight before smirking briefly and wiggling her backside slightly as if to say, ‘enjoy the show.’ Then, she turned on the toy to a medium setting. Making sure the dildo was fully lubricated, Wanda teased the entrance of Sarah’s pussy. She wanted to hear her beg, and looked at her expectantly. 

“I- please. I really want you to…” Sarah trailed off, Wanda nudging her clit with the toy and sending bolts of electricity through her. She refocused, eyes widening when the redhead tilted her head again. “Please fuck me, ma’am. I really want you to. Really, really badly.”

Taking in the girl’s pleading expression and sweet words, Wanda uttered a quick ‘good girl’ before thrusting the toy all the way inside Sarah in one, quick movement. Agatha moaned at the same time that Sarah did, although the girl writhing on the bed was much louder. 

Setting a relentless pace, Wanda watched in fascination as the young girl beneath her quickly started coming undone. It was like all shame and embarrassment had left her, the only thing on her mind was how good she felt and how badly she wanted to cum. Pulling her own consciousness from Sarah’s, Wanda focused all her attention on bringing the girl’s orgasm to the surface. 

Agatha slipped two fingers inside of herself, surprised by the wetness she found. She hadn’t expected to be this turned on, but something about Wanda’s dominant nature was just so… arousing. Watching closely, she fucked herself at the same pace that Wanda fucked the young girl. Her own orgasm rising, she held it off as Sarah’s moans became slightly louder, her wrists pulling desperately at the restraints. 

“Ask for permission.” Wanda commanded, and the words came tumbling out of Sarah’s mouth. She begged like she had been starving for days, and her appetite could only be sated by food fed to her from Wanda’s nimble fingers. Her words flowed freely, syllables overlapping as her voice became breathy from the effort it took to hold back her orgasm. 

Eventually, the words ran out, still flowing inside her head but unable to be spoken as Wanda worked her closer to the edge. Thrusting steadily, the redhead enjoyed the unspoken pleas as the girl’s hips twitched as her muscles contracted in anticipation. 

With a few final strokes, Wanda brought the young girl to the edge, and allowed her to fall over it. Overwhelming pleasure coursed through her, and Sarah forced deep breaths of air into her lungs as she shook. Wanda’s fingers danced over her clit, prolonging the pleasure as victorious moans sounded out. 

Distracted by a quiet gasping sound, Wanda turned her head slightly with the intention of asking Agatha how she liked the show. Her surprise must have shown on her face, because Agatha simply smiled widely at her as she trembled from the aftershocks of her own orgasm. Pulling her soaked fingers out from her pants, Agatha let Wanda enjoy the glistening juices that dripped down her knuckles for a brief moment, before sucking her own fingers into her mouth and moaning quietly. 

Working her jaw slightly at the sight, Wanda refocused her attention on the girl now squirming beneath her. Setting the vibration slightly higher, she let a slow smile spread across her face as the realization set in on Sarah’s face. 

Overstimulating the girl, Wanda forced orgasm after orgasm out of her aching pussy. By the end, Sarah was practically limp as the last bits of pleasure were drained from her overused body. Her clit sent painful jolts through her nervous system every time Wanda so much as grazed it, and she was positive that she would be sore for days.

With a kind smile, Wanda cleaned her up using a warm washcloth and soothing words. Agatha helped strip the bed as Sarah felt those same hands that had brought her insurmountable pleasure running over her back, now clothed in a thin robe. Closing her eyes, she leaned into the touch, feeling herself return to reality. 

Sarah had never felt better. 

—-

“So…”

Wanda sighed, sinking further into her chair. She stared into her glass, swirling her wine around  as she tried to collect her thoughts. Agatha had taken over once she’d realized that Wanda had gotten stuck in her own head. Ensuring that Sarah had a ride home and paying their tab at the bar, she’d whisked the overwhelmed redhead home before popping open a bottle of their favorite red wine. 

It smelled faintly of cherries. Wanda sighed and took a sip. 

“I suppose I’m just confused.” That was all she could manage for the moment, and even Agatha couldn’t make any sense of the thoughts swirling around in the redhead’s mind. She nodded slowly, taking a sip of her own wine as she threw her thoughts back on the events of the evening. 

“I mean,” Wanda paused, her eyebrows scrunching together slightly. Agatha wanted to run her thumb over the wrinkles. She blinked, where had that thought come from?

Running her fingers around the rim of her glass, Wanda continued. “I really enjoy being your submissive, but I was able to control my powers and emotions better when I’m the one in control.”

Agatha could practically feel the young woman’s mind trying not to split itself in two, waging a war between its dominant and submissive mindset. Moving forwards and setting her wine glass down, Agatha moved to kneel between Wanda’s thighs. She reached up, her hand gently resting on the redhead’s jaw as she waited for green eyes to meet her own. 

“You can be both. People aren’t just one thing, hon.” 

Realization dawned, Wanda’s skin smoothing over as her eyes widened fractionally. “Oh.” She felt a bit foolish, but Agatha must have still been in her head, because she chuckled and shook her head. 

“It’s alright if you like being dominant more, sweet cheeks. Whatever makes you the most comfortable will make your partner the most comfortable.” Agatha returned to her seat, sipping her wine as she studied Wanda’s face. 

She was nodding, her red hair falling slightly over her shoulder as she did so. Her fingers still absentmindedly played with the rim of her glass, her eyes focused on the carpet in front of her. Taking a quick peek into her mind, Agatha was pleased to see that Wanda was sorting through her thoughts, placing different emotions into boxes. 

Confusion, in a box. Relief, in a box. Curiosity, in a box. Clarity, in a box. Understanding, in a box. 

The storms in those green eyes cleared, and Wanda looked up with a small smile on her face. “Well,” she drawled, taking a sip of her drink as she met dark blue eyes. “In that case, I quite enjoyed that experience.”

She finished her wine, her mind already swirling with ideas. She could feel Agatha’s smug look from across the room, the woman looking far too pleased with herself. Flexing her fingers, Wanda recalled the way she’d left bruises on the young girl’s hip as she gasped into her ear. 

Looking up, she mirrored the smirk Agatha wore. “I’d quite like to do it again.”

A wild cackle sounded throughout the room, sounding every last bit like a gleeful witch as wine flowed as freely as Wanda’s newfound love of dominance. That night, a new string of fate was formed, connecting a powerful redhead on the verge of revelation, and a young girl, still trembling from the feel of a gun in her hands.

---

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[ginnsbaker]

In Losing Grip On Sinking Ships (17-II/22)

Chapter summary: You up and left the night you found out about a bitter truth. And then you and Wanda come to an understanding on how to move forward.

Chapter B word count: 8.5k | Warnings: Angst, Smut, Profound Sadness | Ship: Wanda x Female Reader

Author's note: There's still angst ahead, be warned. This is my all time fave part to write. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did :) P.S. Poison and Wine by The Civil Wars is such an old and a bit overrated song, but I envisioned this part with this song.

AO3 | Masterlist 

Next chapter: Eighteen

--

Seventeen - Part Two

“Suspended?” Wanda repeats incredulously at your assistant. Her mind spins, thinking about the last several days when you've been mysteriously silent. Every call she's tried to make has gone straight to voicemail; every text she's sent is left unseen, hanging in the balance.

It feels like you've dropped off the face of the Earth, a sensation all too familiar to Wanda. It's like you've once again disappeared from her life without any warning, leaving her in a state of worry and confusion.

Her gaze falls back on your assistant, Martin, who just nods apathetically, his bony fingers carefully balancing a tray of coffee. His casual, nonchalant manner seems to strike a nerve with her, agitating her more than she'd like to admit.

“Sorry, Ms. Maximoff,” he says in a flat, apologetic voice, “She's not been around, hasn't been taking calls or replying to messages from our human resources.”

Wanda's eyes flicker from the reception desk to your office, her heart throbbing with concern and confusion. The glass pane of the office door merely reflects a distorted image of her, nothing of what it concealed inside. “But she's the boss here…” she lamely objects, her voice trailing off.

“Yes, and she suspended herself, apparently,” he replies, shrugging. “In essence, she's on a sabbatical, if you prefer.”

“Did… Did she inform you or anyone here why?” she manages to ask, trying desperately to figure out something–anything.

Martin sighs, placing the trays on his unruly desk. “Wish I knew, really. But she left with only two words 'personal reasons'. That's all we got.”

Wanda stands frozen, questions swirling in her mind, none finding an outlet. Her eyes moisten, and she swallows hard, her worry for you amplifying every second. She scans the room one more time, a futile effort to find answers.

“The last time I saw her,” he starts, his voice breaking her trance, “She seemed...off. Like she was wrestling with something. Something big.”

Her heart lurches. The last time your career was put on hold was when the two of you had to navigate through the tangled mess of divorce proceedings. If even your assistant has noticed that something was amiss, it must mean that whatever you're going through is truly serious, enough to have disrupted your usually composed work life. 

“If she calls in, could you let her know that I came by? And that I need to speak to her urgently?” she asks, biting her lower lip.

Martin nods, his face softening for the first time. “I will. And if I hear anything, I'll let you know.”

With a sigh of resignation, Wanda hands him her card and manages a small, tight-lipped smile as a parting gesture.

Yes, you've disappeared on her before, but this time it feels different–a gnawing worry eating at her gut that she can't ignore. She knows it's not like you to abandon your responsibilities, not without a strong reason. You no longer have Natasha–or Yelena, for that matter–to turn to which makes it all the worse.

She needs to find you.

***

“She’s not home,” the words ring out, echoing in the grandiose lobby of your apartment building. 

The statement is identical to the one she had been fed two days prior.

“Can I go up to the apartment?” she implores, searching for an excuse for them to let her in. “I... I left my purse there.”

But the concierge, rigid in his protocols, shakes his head. “I'm sorry, Miss. Without the tenant present or without their explicit permission, I can't let you in.”

You're not at your office. Not at your apartment. Your absence is a gaping void, pulling her to the brink of panic.

“But you don't understand,” she retorts, her voice stronger now, her fear manifesting as assertiveness. “I need to find her. No one has seen her in the recent week, and she's not answering her phone. I need to...I need to make sure she's okay.”

“Rest assured, she’s fine. She recently got in touch with us about the utility bills,” he assuages.

But it does nothing to quell her rising anxiety.  Sure, you might have called about the utility bills, but that was a routine chore, something that could be done from anywhere, even automated. It didn't necessarily mean you were okay.

Wanda sighs, rubbing her temples in an attempt to ease the throbbing headache brewing there. 

“Did she say anything else?” she asks, desperation tinting her words. “Anything at all that might indicate where she is?”

He shakes his head, his expression distant and almost uncaring. “That was all.”

Her shoulders slump, her heart heavy, but her resolve unwavering. If she had to overturn every stone in the city, knock on every door, she would. She needs to know that you're safe. 

Because even if the world believes you're okay, she knows better. 

She knows you.

Later, that very same night, Wanda finds herself pacing restlessly in her living room like a caged animal. The worn floorboards creak under her weight as she tirelessly traces the same path over and over, her mind swirling, imagining the worst.

In her desperation, an idea occurs to her.

Natasha. 

Their last conversation had been a little more than a week ago, but it had been far from pleasant. Accusations and blame were tossed around like grenades, and Natasha had left with a bitter parting shot. 

She glances at the old wall clock. Late. Very late. But time has lost its meaning to her lately. It's been nothing but a constant reminder of your absence, every ticking second a chime of worry.

Chewing on her lower lip, she finally makes up her mind. She picks up her phone, her fingers trembling as they navigate to a contact she hasn't dialed in ages. She stares at the screen for a moment, then pushes the call button.

The dial tone drones in her ear. She waits, each ring echoing the magnitude of her worry. She needs to find you. And for that, she needs Natasha to pick up.

Wanda's breath catches in her throat as she waits, clutching the phone with trembling hands. The apartment feels still and silent, the only noise is that persistent, mocking ring.

Just when she's about to end the call, the dial tone stops. A beat of silence, then–

“Wanda?” Natasha's voice is clipped, cold even, but Wanda can't help but feel a surge of relief at hearing it.

“Natasha,” she breathes, her voice cracking. “I need your help.”

There's a pause on the other end, long enough for Wanda to feel a pang of doubt. She can almost see Natasha's face, the guarded expression that's become her default since the fallout.

“Why should I help you?” Natasha finally asks, her voice devoid of warmth.

“Because it's about her,” Wanda replies, her words tumbling out in a rush. “She's missing, Natasha. She's not at her apartment, not at work, and she's not answering her phone. I've tried everything. You're… you’re my last hope. Please.”

There's a long silence on the other end, the tension so thick she can almost taste it. Wanda can feel her heart in her throat as she waits, hoping against hope that Natasha will put aside their differences, their painful history, and help her find you. 

Then, Natasha sighs, a sound that's both vexed and resigned. “Give me a few hours, Wanda,” she says finally, her voice laced with reluctance. “I'll see what I can find.”

Wanda manages a small, grateful nod, even though Natasha can't see it. “Thank you. I–I'll wait.”

The line goes dead, leaving Wanda with her worry and the late-night silence of her apartment. She drops onto the worn-out couch, her eyes fixed on her silent phone, her mind filled with thoughts of you.

But it turns out, she doesn't have to wait long. Five minutes later, her phone vibrates on the coffee table, startling her. Picking it up, she sees Natasha's name flashing on the screen. 

That was peculiarly fast.

She answers it, her heart pounding.

“Why didn't you call her mother?”  Natasha's voice is sharp, impatient.

Wanda blinks, visibly thrown off. “Her...her mother?”

“Yes, Wanda. Her mother!” Natasha sounds incredulous, exasperated. “She's in Montauk. She's been there for the past week. Her mother just confirmed it.”

Wanda's heart drops, a mix of relief and shame washing over her. She hadn't thought of calling your mother. In fact, she's been avoiding the idea altogether.

“I...I didn't call her because... because she blocked me,” Wanda admits in a small voice. “After she found out about my infidelity, she blocked me.”

There's a pause on the other end, followed by a deep sigh. “Well, now you know,” Natasha says, a hint of softness creeping into her voice. “She's in Montauk.”

With that, the call ends. Wanda is left staring at her phone.

She wastes no time buying train tickets for the following day.

***

Years have passed since Wanda last tread the well-worn path leading to your childhood home.

The once vibrant paint now peels and fades, no recent attempts at refurbishment have been made, and yet, it retains a charm that's impossible to overlook. Sitting all by itself on the beach, it's about the most peaceful spot Wanda's ever known.

She's always loved coming to your place in Montauk, even though she's acutely aware that your mother's affections for her have always been less than warm. But as she stands there now, the salty sea breeze tugging at her hair, she looks up in awe.

Her gaze is drawn to the attic window–your old bedroom. She imagines you might be there. She wonders if you're asleep, tucked away in a corner where your bed is and always will be. She thinks about what you might be dreaming of. Are they good dreams? Or the kind that makes you wake up in a cold sweat? The thought of you being troubled, even in sleep, makes her heart ache.

She wishes she could be up there with you, could slide into the room and sit down next to you. She'd love nothing more than to reach out and touch you, to pull you close and wrap you in her arms. She'd whisper in your ear, tell you that everything's going to be okay. “I'm here,” she'd say. “And I'm not going anywhere, not unless you want me to.”

But for now, she's stuck at the bottom of the stairs, staring up at that attic window. So with a sigh, she tears her gaze away, and turns back to the front steps. Eventually, her feet lead her to them, but she pauses, a knot of nerves twisting in her stomach. This isn't like the other times she's visited. There won't be a warm welcome from you, just the cold, guarded reception from your mother.

Taking a deep breath, she squares her shoulders and climbs the steps, her hand hesitating briefly over the door knocker. For a moment, she's tempted to turn back, to avoid the frosty confrontation. But she knows she can't. She's here for a reason.

The lingering echo of the knock seems to hang in the air before it's swallowed up by the constant rhythm of the sea. Then, the soft sound of footsteps resonates from within. Her pulse quickens in response. Fixing her eyes forward and tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear, she readies herself for the encounter.

As the door creaks open, the familiar face of your mother appears. But her expression isn't the stern, guarded look Wanda has come to expect. Instead, her eyes hold a sense of knowing, as if your mother has been expecting her for a while now.

Wanda’s well-rehearsed words hang in her throat, momentarily lost amidst the surprise. But she quickly regains her composure, preparing to speak, when your mother breaks the silence.

“Took you long enough,” she says, her voice softer than Wanda remembers. “Come inside, dear.”

Taken aback, Wanda can only nod. She smiles politely at her in return as she steps across the threshold. 

Soon enough, Wanda finds herself seated at the worn kitchen table, as your mother moves with an ease born of years spent there, preparing an early dinner. The scent of food simmering stirs the air, joining the comforting aroma of tea brewing on the stove.

As she cooks, she fills Wanda in on what’s been going on with you lately. 

“She's been upstairs, in her old room, for days now,” she shares, nodding towards the ceiling as if it would help Wanda see you. “Doesn't come out much. Sometimes I hear her... crying, then nothing. She won't talk to me, no matter how much I try.”

Her usually steady hands reveal a hint of tremor as she stirs a pot on the stove. “I'm scared,”she admits, making brief eye contact with Wanda.

“I've been thinking... maybe it's about you.” she adds after a moment.

She doesn't say it like she's blaming Wanda, more like she's just trying to make sense of things. It leaves Wanda silent, turning the possibility over in her mind.

The kettle whistles, breaking the heavy silence. Your mom pours the hot water into a teapot and then turns to Wanda. “Tea?” she asks, like this is just any normal day.

“I’d love some tea, thank you,” Wanda responds, giving a brief nod. She takes the warm mug offered to her, the heat seeping into her palms. Afterwhich, she reaches for the jar of honey and adds a dollop of it in her tea. 

As your mom settles down across the table, an uncomfortable silence fills the kitchen. The only sounds are the soft humming of the fridge and the occasional clink of a spoon against a cup as your mom stirs her own tea.

They just sit there, silently looking at each other over the worn kitchen table. Wanda takes a sip from her mug, feeling the tea's heat spreading through her, a pleasant contrast to the chilly November air that's started to creep into the house.

Every sip, every moment of silence, makes Wanda more aware of the pressing need to apologize to your mother. She's hurt you, her own daughter, and if what your mom suggests is true, she may even be the reason you've up and left your life in Manhattan.

Finding the courage, Wanda finally speaks up, her voice shaky but sincere. “I understand this may not change anything,” she begins, “But I need to apologize... for the pain I've caused. For betraying your trust, and more importantly, for betraying Y/N's.”

She can feel the prickle of tears behind her eyes, but she forces them back. This isn't about her pain; it's about yours, and perhaps your mother's too.

“I wish I can go back,” Wanda admits, her eyes falling shut to keep her tears at bay. “And undo everything.”

She pauses, collecting her thoughts before continuing. “I’ve done a lot of self-reflection. I've looked into the mirror and didn't like the person staring back. I was... I am... deeply flawed. But I'm trying, I really am. I've started therapy, trying to understand and learn from my past mistakes.”

Wanda takes a deep breath before proceeding. “Your daughter...she deserves the world. And I know, in your eyes and perhaps even in my own, I don't deserve her. But what I'm asking, I guess, is not for you to forget or to absolve me. It's for another chance. A chance to prove that I can be better. That I can make things right with Y/N. I’m asking for your blessing, should it be possible for us to try again.”

After her heartfelt confession, your mother just quietly sips her tea, her gaze steady on Wanda. The silence is deafening, broken only by the regular ticking of the kitchen clock.

Wanda squirms under the silent scrutiny, but she doesn't look away. Instead, she meets your mother’s steady gaze, even if her own eyes are red and her vision is blurry.

“I… I know actions speak louder than words,” she adds quietly, her fingers twisting nervously in her lap. “And I'm ready to do whatever it takes, no matter how long it may be, to show you... to show Y/N, that I am capable of change, of being the person she deserves.”

Then, it's quiet again.

The silence stretches on, and just when Wanda thinks your mother might never respond, she sets her tea down and begins to speak. But it's not a direct answer to Wanda's plea. Instead, she starts to tell a story.

“You know, Y/N was always a deeply emotional child,” she begins, her voice soft and her eyes distant, lost in memories. “She had this incredible ability to love, to pour all of herself into someone or something. She trusted easily, loved fiercely.”

She pauses and takes a slow breath, her gaze turning sadder. “And because of that, she often got hurt. People took advantage of her kindness, her unwavering loyalty. They saw her love as something to exploit rather than treasure.”

Wanda blinks in surprise when your mother extends her hand, clasping hers firmly on the tabletop. The unexpected touch all but strikes a chord. 

“She's been through a lot, Wanda. Her heart's been bruised more times than I care to count. But she still loves with all she has, still trusts, even when she's been betrayed,” she says. “As her mom, all I ever wanted was for Y/N to find genuine happiness.”

Tears well up in Wanda's eyes, spilling over and trailing down her cheeks in crooked streams. With her free hand, she wipes them away hastily, while her other hand clings to your mother's in a gesture of guilt and a plea for forgiveness.

Your mother waits for Wanda’s wracking sobs to subside, before she gently lets go of Wanda’s hand and then looks out the window, her eyes turning steely. 

“I don’t doubt your sincerity,” she tells Wanda. “But what I need is to see that light in her eyes again, that joy she used to have. If you can help bring that back to her, then we can talk about forgiveness.”

Wanda can do nothing but nod as she accepts the challenge of the task. 

Your mother slowly rises from her chair, gathering the empty mugs on the table. “I've prepared dinner for tonight,” she says. “You can serve it when you're both ready.”

Wanda looks up, her eyes reflecting her confusion, “You're not staying?”

With a soft smile, your mother shakes her head, “I'll give you two some space to talk and sort things out. I'll be staying with a friend tonight.”

The offer leaves Wanda momentarily stunned, but she recognizes the trust and faith your mother is placing in her. It's a responsibility she doesn't take lightly, and she nods, hastily pulling herself together.

“Thank you,” Wanda says, her voice soft. "Thank you for giving me this chance."

Your mother reaches out to touch Wanda's arm, her eyes filled with understanding. 

“Just do right by her,” she says.

After your mother grabs her purse and car keys, she leaves, the door closing behind her with a quiet click. 

Wanda is left standing in the empty house. She looks around thoughtfully, the smell of the cooked dinner still lingering in the open space. Then, her eyes stray upwards towards the attic. She can't help the nervous flutter in her stomach as she thinks about what awaits upstairs.

Taking a deep breath, she firms her stance and prepares herself to face you.

As Wanda navigates the familiar hallways of this house, she's assaulted by a flurry of memories. 

Most vivid of all are the memories of your bedroom during your college years. That sacred space where you both had surrendered to your desires, the place where you both discovered each other in the most intimate ways. The countless nights when whispers and soft sighs were swallowed by the plush pillows, the sheets a tangled mess of sweat and evidences of pleasure.

Each memory, each recollection, sends a shiver down her spine. She remembers the taste of your lips, the softness of your skin, the way your eyes would darken with desire. She remembers the feel of your body against hers, the thrill of being the only one to see you unravel.

She remembers the way you’d moan out her name. The way your breath would hitch when she touched you, the way your fingers would trace patterns on her skin. The way you would look at her, as if she was the only one that mattered, the only one you saw.

Chiding herself, Wanda shakes her head, a blush coloring her cheeks as she catches her mind in the gutter. While she terribly misses you, aches to be with you, this isn’t about her longings or her desires.

No, this is about checking on you. It's about making sure you're alright and not alone. That's the priority, and it's what keeps her focused right now.

Moving towards your room, Wanda raises her fist to knock, but as her knuckles make contact, the door creaks open on its own accord. She freezes, the noise sounding overly loud in the deafening silence of the house.

The sight that greets her makes her breath hitch. There you are, asleep in your bed, your back to her. Curled up under your Star Wars covers, you seem so small, so vulnerable. A small smile pulls at the corners of Wanda's mouth, seeing you cocooned in remnants of your adolescence–the old covers, the posters lining the walls, the trophies gathering dust on the shelves. It’s endearing, and so quintessentially you.

Wanda carefully slips off her shoes, setting them neatly next to your own pair by the door. The room is quiet, save for the soft sound of your steady breathing. She doesn't want to disturb your peace, doesn't want to pull you from what seems to be a rare, restful sleep.

With cautious movements, she edges towards the bed, lifting the corner of the blanket. As silently as she can, she slips under them, feeling the familiar warmth they hold. She shuffles closer to you, wrapping her arms gently around you from behind. Your body is a comforting presence, the steady rhythm of your breathing lulling her own worries.

As if on cue, even in your sleep, you move closer to her. You shift backwards, snuggling into her arms as if your body remembers the familiarity of her presence.

Closing her eyes, Wanda allows herself to relax for the first time in days. The constant worry, the relentless anxiety of the past week begins to ebb away. Here, holding you, she finally allows herself to succumb to her own exhaustion. 

A while later, beneath your lids, your eyes move restlessly. And like the recent days, it's the same nightmare that haunts you. Wanda, lying motionless in a hospital bed, a sight that sends cold tendrils of fear winding around your heart.

In your dream, you're a phantom, invisible and unheard. You're screaming, pleading, shouting for someone to hear you, to help her. But your voice, your presence, goes unnoticed. You watch helplessly as her heart rate dips, her once vibrant life draining away before your eyes. And then the dreadful flatline–

With a start, your eyes fly open. The world spins for a moment before settling down. In your sleep, you've moved so that Wanda now lays on your chest, sleeping soundly. Your arms are wrapped securely around her, a protective gesture that feels as natural as breathing.

As your eyes adjust back to reality, your mind doesn't quite catch up in time. For a moment, you believe this too is a dream. But in this one, Wanda is safe, wrapped snugly in your arms, far away from any harm. With gentle fingers, you start brushing through her soft hair, the familiar motion soothing. You find yourself slowly massaging her scalp, a habit from the good old days.

The gentle motion stirs Wanda, her eyes fluttering open to meet your startled gaze. As she squints up at you, drowsy and slightly confused, the pieces fall into place for you. This isn't some surreal dream. 

Wanda is actually here, with you.

“W-What time is it?” Her question is barely a whisper, the words escaping her in a quiet, sleep-addled mumble.

Your response is a knee-jerk reaction, a surprise that compels you to pull away. But there's nowhere to retreat, no room to distance yourself from the reality before you. Trapped between Wanda and the wall, in the confined space of the single-sized bed, you have nowhere to go.

“W-Why…” you begin, your voice coming out raspy from sleep and shock. Your eyes dart around as if seeking an escape.

Before you can finish your sentence, Wanda’s hand reaches for yours, her fingers curling reassuringly around your wrist. 

“Hey, it's me. You're okay,” she murmurs softly, but you remain tense, suspicious.

You don’t try to scramble further away, but you remain tense under her touch.

“Why are you here?” you finally manage to get out, your voice trembling slightly. “You shouldn't be here. You need to go.”

Wanda looks jolted at your words, her eyebrows shooting up. “Go?” she echoes, incredulity seeping into her tone. “Why would I go? You've been missing for days. I've been worried sick.”

Your heart aches at the crack in her voice, a clear indication of her sleepless nights, but the need to protect Wanda from you overpowers your sympathy.

“I can't...I can't tell you why,” you stammer out, hugging your knees to your chest, using them as a barrier between you and her.

Wanda's grip tightens around your wrist. “Why not?” she insists, her voice laced with frustration. “You can't just disappear and expect me to leave when I finally find you.”

“Because you’re not safe,” you say, avoiding her eyes.

“But why?” She pushes, her voice shaking with worry. “What do you mean I'm not safe?”

You struggle to find the right words, your throat dry. “You just... you just aren't, Wanda. Please, just leave.”

Her eyebrows pull together as she stares at you, as she searches your face for some explanation. Then, a name flickers across her expression, and her body goes rigid.

Pietro.

Shit.

What did he do?

“Y/N?” Wanda utters slowly. “Did you… Did you find out about my–”

“Yes,” you cut her off. Not wanting to hear from Wanda herself what–

What you’ve put her through.

The memory of the hospital report you secured after you found out, the graphic details of the picture that was sent to you—they've been haunting your nightmares for days.

Your hand slips out of hers as you awkwardly sit up, pressing your back against the unyielding concrete with a wince of discomfort. Wanda looks at you, her eyes wide and her lips parted, as if she's just now realizing the gravity of what you’ve been really dealing with.

“I found out, Wanda. About the pills,” you say quietly, your voice shaking. “The night I left...you overdosed. And I–I didn't even know.” You run a hand through your hair, frustration and guilt making you feel sick.

“That's why you can't be here, Wanda. That's why you have to leave. Because I can't... I can't be the cause of your pain anymore.”

Wanda looks at you for a moment, her expression unreadable, then, as if a switch is flipped, her expression crumbles. 

Despite all the tears she's already shed over the past week, she finds that she's not done yet. She's cried so much she thought she had nothing left, but there's always more when it comes to the pain you're both in.

“It’s not your fault,” she tells you firmly. She says it like she's trying to drill it into your head, her jaw set, teeth clenched. She wants you to believe her. She needs you to believe her. 

It's not your fault.

The dam holding back your own tears finally gives way. “How can you say that, Wanda?” you choke out, your voice shaking as much as you are. “I have proof that I almost killed you!”

But Wanda just shakes her head, stubborn as always. She won't accept what you're saying, won't see the truth of the matter. And so, you switch tactics.

“Why are you still here, Wanda?” you ask, your voice suddenly cold. “Why are you still looking for me? Why do you act like you still...care? Is it guilt? You cheated on me and now you're stuck with me out of pity? Do you pity me because you got the good side of this mess?”

Your words hang heavy in the silence that follows. Wanda just blinks at you, her eyes wide and shock clearly etched on her face. She pulls back slightly, her face flushing with a mix of hurt and anger.

“You think I pity you?" she whispers, her voice shaking with the intensity of her emotions. “You think this is guilt?”

But before you can answer, she's already shaking her head, her eyes filling with tears again. “No, you're wrong. It’s not pity, it’s not guilt. It’s...it’s…”

Her voice breaks off as she clutches the fabric of your shirt in her fists. “It’s because I love you, you idiot,” she finally admits, her confession plunging the dagger further into your beating heart. “Despite what they say…despite all of it, I still love you.”

It's raw and painful and beautiful all at once, but it also scares you more than anything. Because if Wanda still loves you, despite everything that's happened, then you're going to have to fight even harder to protect her from yourself.

“Wanda, I…” you try to protest, to explain, to push her away, but your words die in your throat when she suddenly crashes her lips onto yours. It's fierce and demanding, full of so many unsaid words and bottled-up emotions.

Her arms wrap around your neck, pulling you closer while one of her hands finds its way to your hair, holding you in place. She's practically clinging onto you, as if she's afraid you'll disappear again.

Your initial shock fades away as the kiss deepens. You melt into her, your resistance collapsing. Your arms instinctively go around her waist, pulling her closer until there's no space left between you.

Everything narrows down to the sensation of her lips moving against yours. The kiss is intoxicating and it's not long before you find yourself giving in, the guilt and fear momentarily forgotten.

What you’ve put her through.

But the words flash behind your eyes again. You can't help but question if this, the intoxicating sensation of being with Wanda Maximoff, can absolve you of it all.

Your thoughts whirl, but Wanda seems to know exactly what you need. She breaks away just enough to capture your hands, bringing them to her flushed cheeks.

And then, with her eyes closed, trusting, she whispers, “You’re not hurting me, Y/N.” Your hands tremble as they stay on her face, moving cautiously, as if she's a fragile piece of glass that might shatter under your touch.

When Wanda opens her eyes, you're struck by their clarity, their luminosity. “See?” she whispers. “All I feel is how much you love me. I–I know you do…”

In the next beat, she's guiding your hands lower, slipping them beneath her shirt to rest against the warm skin of her waist. Without thinking, your fingers begin to move, massaging the soft dips of her stomach, tracing the familiar curves and lines of a body you've known and cherished for years. 

“All I feel is your warmth. Your tenderness,” she murmurs, a slight catch in her breath as your hands start to move upwards, brushing aside her bra to gently cradle her breast. “Your desire. Your love that nurtures me, makes me thrive,” she finishes, a small gasp escaping her as she feels herself responding to your touch, her nipples hardening against your palm.

“So, please, Y/N,” she cries desperately as you wordlessly make quick work of removing her shirt and bra. “Please don’t make me go. I need you.”

It's hard to resist her, especially when she looks at you with such pleading eyes. You’ve always had a difficult time saying no to Wanda, and this moment is no different.

After shedding your own shirt, you pull her close, the skin-on-skin contact sending sparks through your veins. For a moment, everything else fades away. It's just the two of you, tangled together in a cocoon of your own making.

Your resolve wavers, then collapses. You can't deny her, not now, not ever.

Taking a deep breath, you lean in to press your forehead against hers. “I want to make you feel good,” you say, and before Wanda can utter her agreement, you press your lips against her delicately. 

The kiss is slow and tender, a gentle exploration rather than a heated demand. It's a promise, a vow to take your time and be mindful of her needs. You want to make up for all the hurt you've caused her, and this is where you'll start.

Without breaking the kiss, you carefully guide back down on the bed. Your fingers dance over the button of her jeans and when you can't proceed without breaking the kiss, you do so reluctantly. Wanda lets out a soft whine at the loss of contact, her impatience showing as she moves her hips to aid you in removing her pants. Once she’s left in just her underwear, you take a moment to appreciate the sight before you.

Wanda, naked in your teenage bed, her skin flushed and her thighs pulled together to relieve the delicious ache in between them. And your instinct is to worship every inch of her until she’s calling out to another higher power in the midst of your care.

Growing restless, Wanda eases herself off the bed, just enough to clasp the nape of your neck, drawing you back to another sweet entanglement of her lips.

This time, you get lost in the moment, letting your tongue outline the shape of her mouth, tasting the mix of her salty tears and the sweet remnants of her honeyed tea. You leisurely familiarize yourself with her, navigating the familiar paths inside her mouth, until the top of your thigh accidentally bumps into her clothed center. 

The sudden touch makes Wanda gasp. Her head rolls back, her eyes tightly closed, and you press into her again–harder. You watch as her mouth forms the perfect 'o,' each quick, sharp puffs matching the rhythm you’ve now set with your hips. Your hand trails down from the nape of her neck, across the delicate expanse of her shoulders, before settling on her waist, using it as a leverage to drive harder into her. 

“Y/N–P-Please…” Wanda's plea hangs in the thick air between you two. She doesn't know exactly what she's asking for, only that she'll lose her mind if you don't act soon.

Knowing what she needs, you push her thighs apart and lift them towards herself, until her knees are almost touching her shoulders. Grabbing her bottom, you tilt her hips slightly upwards, slotting your thigh directly over Wanda’s cunt. 

And then, without warning, you lower down to start driving your leg into her soaked core.

“Baby, what are you–oh, fuck!” Wanda can't hold back the scream that's torn from her throat.

Your fingernails dig sharply into her ass as you encourage her to fuck your leg. Your arms are working hard, holding up the lower half of Wanda's body at the precise angle you need. You duck your head to suck on the hollow of her throat, making Wanda squirm as she encircles her arms around your shoulders, keeping you in place. 

While you continue to maintain your rhythm, her slippery underwear—the lone piece of clothing she still has on–becomes too drenched that they slide right into and get stuck between her pussy lips, the folds of the fabric adding a pleasurable friction to her clit. At this moment, you decide to let your mouth venture further down her torso until it finds a hardened peak, and you waste no time immediately nursing on her teat. 

In a matter of seconds, Wanda feels the familiar coil in her belly. Her escalating cries, coming in sharp bursts, echo in your ear, a clear indication of the inevitable. She wraps her legs around your waist as her breathing becomes more frantic, encouraging you to plough into her mercilessly. On the next thrust, your hand releases its grip on one of her buttocks to push her panties aside and pump two fingers into her without preamble, before switching your mouth to her other nipple, giving it the same furious attention.

“Fuck, I’m–nnnghh!” Wanda yelps, and all it takes is one more slam of your hips before Wanda's entire body stiffens, her back arching into a perfect bow. You almost couldn’t stop yourself from closing your teeth around her areola as you feel her continue to buck against you, riding the final waves of her high. 

Moments later, you finally let go of her nipple with a wet pop when she weakly tugs at the back of your head, and you gently lap at the reddened area, tending to it with soft kitten licks. Once you’re satisfied, you climb back up to softly kiss Wanda’s closed eyelids, feeling her body slacken in your hold as she slowly recovers from her orgasm. 

You continue to sprinkle a few more kisses randomly across her face, until her giggles ripple through you, the sound of her laughter chiming like bells in your ears.

“Good?” you ask while still inside her, your other hand caressing the curve of her cheek as you gaze into her eyes, ensuring she's completely comfortable in every way.

Wanda bites her lip and nods, a blush coloring her cheeks as she basks in the intense attention you're showering her with and the weak, come-hither motion of your fingers still inside her.

“Good,” you say with a soft smile, and then Wanda’s breath catches as your eyes darken once more, pulling your fingers out of her carefully before licking them clean. “Because now I want to taste you.”

“But you haven’t–”

“This is what I want,” you calmly assure her. In reality, you want a number of things. You want to apologize to her. You want to feel that she’s there with you. That she’s alive, even if she’s a puppet on a string, at the mercy of your mouth and fingers.

You want to erase the image seared into your mind of Wanda, lifeless and cold.

Wanda smiles at you, and you respond by leaning in to give her a gentle kiss, a silent promise that it’s not because you’re merely rejecting her touch. What you really want is to love her right now, and perhaps see her let go and lose herself in the moment. 

Slowly, you start to trail kisses down her stomach, stopping just above her navel to playfully swirl your tongue within it, eliciting a reaction from Wanda as she arches her body upwards, offering herself to you. As you continue, your hands glide her underwear down her legs, before casually discarding it somewhere behind you. 

Instantly, her scent fills your nostrils, making your mouth water. You fight the urge to dive right in, not wanting all of this to end too soon. You follow the smell of her arousal to its source, your nose skimming over the area above her pubic bone, the apex of her thighs, anywhere but where Wanda’s gushing out in need. 

Wanda feels an urge to beg you to stop teasing, but she understands that's not what you're doing. She recognizes why you're taking your time, even though the deliberate pace is making her grow more frustrated by the second. 

As for you, emotions well up inside as you discern that Wanda is surrendering to you, reminding you of your ability to make her feel good, to make her happy, and it's taking all your strength not to crumble and break down in front of her. 

Even amid the heavy fog of desire, Wanda experiences a rush of gentle affection when she feels your fingers intertwining with hers, providing her a comforting squeeze. But Wanda should have taken that as her warning, when in a split second, she feels your tongue dart out to taste the length of her. 

Wanda's head lolls to the side, her eyes tightly closed. She hadn't anticipated that the buildup would be this intense, that such a simple move would drive her crazier than usual. She whimpers as you lick her languidly, almost reverently, as if you’re memorizing her taste and every crease and every sound your tongue elicits.

This time, when Wanda reaches her climax, it's more than just the physical sensations pushing her over the edge. 

It's your smile that she feels brushing her dewy skin, it's the hums of approval you're voicing, it's the way your eyes lock with hers, absorbing her every reaction, in sync with her sensations and emotions. 

The way you’d rest your head on her stomach while catching your breath.

Much like how it was when loving her was something you were so proud of.

As midnight approaches, you finally give in to Wanda's pleas for you to stop. She's come more times tonight than ever before in her life, and with her stomach growling in hunger, all she can think about is the beef stew your mother left in the kitchen for both of you.

She extracts her tired body from your secure hold, and dresses herself in comfortable silence, while you sit on your bed, confused and not knowing what to do with yourself now that you’ve accomplished your mission of making Wanda come a record-breaking six times.

Wanda stretches languidly, much like a cat, her bones making small popping sounds that draw a soft moan from her. She then tells you that she'll warm up the dinner you were meant to have and bring it back up to eat in the room.

As she makes her way to the kitchen, the rich, comforting aroma of the beef stew your mother had prepared earlier that evening wafts into the hallway, causing her stomach to complain louder.

Approaching the stove, she finds the pot still sitting there, the stew inside cooled. She turns on the burner underneath, and waits for it to heat up. All the while, her thoughts continue to race. She wonders if giving herself to you tonight has somehow provided you with the comfort you needed after finding out about her overdose on the night you left.

Did it reassure you to see her not just alive, but right there with you? Did the intimate connection help to ease any lingering fears or guilt from that night?

Once the stew has warmed enough, she ladles it into two bowls and carefully makes her way back up the stairs. As she nudges the bedroom door open with her foot, she's met with a sight that warms her heart. You're sitting there, now modestly dressed in a pair of pajamas, looking far more composed than when she'd first walked into your room earlier in the evening.

Your hair is neatly combed back, and the lines of worry that had marked your face earlier have faded, replaced with a serene expression. 

However, your eyes tell a different story. Something significant has shifted, and she can't quite put her finger on what it is.

“Will you set those down for a moment? I need to tell you something,” you tell her, your voice eerily calm. It sends a ripple of unease through her, yet she does as you ask.

Quietly, Wanda places the bowls of hot stew on the nearby dresser. The comforting scent of the dish wafts through the room, yet her earlier hunger has been replaced by an uneasy feeling that ties her stomach in knots. She takes a seat on the edge of the bed beside you, her hands folded neatly in her lap. 

You take a deep breath before you begin, as if you're preparing yourself as well for what you have to say. 

“I… I'm not sure how to go about it, or even why I'm doing it, but... you should hear this,” you start off.

“Last week, I... I tried sleeping with a stranger because I wanted to understand, to put myself in your shoes,” you continue, not waiting for her response. Wanda is quiet as she listens to your confession, each word slicing through her like a blade.

“I wanted to feel... what it was like for you when you chose him. When you chose him over us, over what we had,” you say, your voice wavering slightly. 

Wanda can hardly breathe. “Y/N…” 

“I couldn't do it,” you blurt out, your words spilling over one another in your haste. “Even though technically, we aren’t together, I… I couldn’t be with someone else,” you say in a choked half-sob, half-laugh that pushes Wanda dangerously close to a fresh torrent of feelings.

Tears flow freely down your cheeks now, your nose sniffling from the congestion. You sniffle, struggling to draw in breaths through your mouth to compensate for the hindered airflow.

“How?” you force out the question, your voice filled with aching pain as you look at Wanda, your face contorted with sorrow. “How was it so easy for you?”

Wanda doesn't have an immediate answer to your question, instead, she just looks at you, her heart breaking with every sob that shakes your body. 

“It wasn't... it wasn't easy,” she finally stammers out, her mind frantically revisiting the long weeks she spent with Calliope, trying to unpack her baggage and find something, anything, that might ease your pain. “Nothing about this has been easy, Y/N.”

But she knows it's not the answer you want. 

“I wish I had a straightforward answer,” she starts, her hands fidgeting in her lap. “I wish I had a valid reason... something. But I don't... I just... don't. You were–are–everything to me, Y/N. You’re patient, loving, caring. You deserved so much better.”

She can't justify her actions. She can't explain why she risked the one person who loved her unconditionally. And it's a different kind of torment, the understanding that there's no satisfying explanation, no logical reason for her betrayal.

“I don’t trust you,” you admit to Wanda, a deep sorrow seeping into your voice. 

“Y/N, I…” Wanda starts, but you raise your hand to silence her.

“Maybe you didn't mean to hurt me,” you cut her off, your voice a broken whisper. “But every time I see you, every time I'm around you, it's like... it's like I'm back at square one,” you continue, your voice strained. “I don't know if I can ever trust you again, Wanda. And worse, I don't trust myself around you.”

Your gaze drops to your lap, where your hands are tightly knotted together, knuckles white with the effort. 

“And I don't know if this feeling will ever stop,” you add, more to yourself than to her. “I'm just so tired of it all. Tired of feeling this way, tired of... going around in circles.”

Wanda swallows thickly, her throat constricted. Her heart feels like it's being ripped apart at the seams as she watches you, so vulnerable, so hurt. All because of her.

“I...I could never have done that to you.” you tell her with finality.

“I know,” she answers, her voice filled with an emotion so raw it makes your chest tighten. “I know you’d never do anything to hurt me like that. It's... it's unbearable, Y/N. But I... I'm so sorry. I want to try, if you're willing... I want to earn your trust and forgiveness.”

“I need to earn your trust back,” Wanda corrects herself quietly, cowering, expecting you to laugh in her face with how delusional she is for begging you the one thing that she already destroyed. “I know it won't be easy, and I don't even know if it's possible, but I have to try, Y/N. I can't... I can't lose you again without even trying.”

A part of you rebels at the idea, reminds you of all the reasons why you should harden your heart and walk away–for the sake of you both. Yet, another part, a larger part, doesn't want to.  Despite the hurt and betrayal, despite the broken pieces, you still care for her. 

You want to trust her again. You want to be in love in the purest sense.

(You’re already in love, you just want to stop questioning it.)

“I can’t promise you that it’ll be easy to deal with,” you warn her, your voice thick with sincerity. “I can't just... sweep all of this under the rug, Wanda.”

“I can handle that,” she replies with a soft smile, her voice full of certainty. 

“Can you really?” you question, disbelief plain in your tone. “What if you blindside me again? What if I do something that would put you in harm’s way again?”

Wanda nods knowingly. “Which is why we can't do this by ourselves alone.”

“What do you suggest?” you ask curiously.

“That we seek professional help.” she says without hesitation.

“Professional help?” you repeat, slightly surprised. You hadn't considered this avenue, but the complexity of your situation seems to call for it.

Her practical approach impresses you, her willingness to explore different ways to mend things. The idea of exposing your deepest emotions to a stranger in a clinical setting is intimidating. But if Wanda is willing to do it, to unpack everything and lay it all out in the open like a defenseless soldier in a middle of a battlefield, then–

“Okay,” you say finally.

“Okay?” Wanda looks up at you with wide, expectant eyes, making her look so innocent like a child.

You nod, your lips curling into a tentative smile. “I guess… we could try.”

A watery smile flickers on Wanda's face as she carefully circles her arms around your neck. You reciprocate her hug, hesitant at first, but then with more confidence as you both meld back into each other. For a while, you simply sit there, clinging onto each other, until Wanda’s rumbling stomach shatters the moment.

Chuckles bubbling up, Wanda draws back from your hold and says, “Should we get to that stew now?”

Grinning, you give a playful snort and rise to fetch the bowls of warm stew yourself.

Then it hits you, the real fear isn't the dread of her repeating the same mistakes nor the risk of hurting each other again. 

No, it's the idea of her being here with you, and not putting in the effort to make things right.

And that, you decide, is something you don't think you could live with.

Taglist: @secretbackrooms | @justgotlizzied , @casquinhaa | @marvelwomen-simp | @sunsol-22 | @wandanatlov3r | @kyaraderuwez | @justyourwritter69 | @stanolsevans | @aliherreraaa | @diaryoflife| @justagurlwholikes | @lizziesplant | @cowxpoke | @sokovianbaby| @swiftie1-0-1

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x you #wanda maximoff #ifiss 2 #ilgoss #yelena belova #unbetad #my writing #my fic #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff #agatha harkness #pietro maximoff #wanda maximoff x female reader

[yelena-belovas-gun]

MASTERLIST

Requests: Open [★] Closed []

Rules:

Female reader only.

No poly relationships (only because I suck at them T-T)

No genderbending

Marvel Women Only <3

No homophobia, islamophobia, transphobia, etc.

Be nice when requesting

If you want to be tagged, let me know via dms or by anonymous ask <3

Key:

Fluff (♥︎)

Angst (△)

Smut (★)

characters below the cut, my little bao buns &lt;3

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Maya Lopez

Don't You Dare (♥︎)

Intruders (♥︎)

Miniseries:

Last Resort Part One Part Two

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Yelena Belova

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Kate Bishop

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Natasha Romanoff

Overworked (♥︎)

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Wanda Maximoff

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Peggy Carter

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Shuri Udaku

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Carol Danvers

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Monica Rambeau

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Kamala Khan

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Nakia Bahadir

Confession (♥︎)

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Riri Williams

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Agatha Harkness

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Maria Hill

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Valkyrie/Brunnhilde

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America Chavez

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MORE CHARACTERS WILL BE ADDED OVER TIME &lt;;3

#marvel #masterlist #fanfiction #female reader #wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff #maya lopez #yelena belova #kate bishop #monica rambeau #carol danvers #mcu #shuri udaku #nakia bahadir #kamala khan #america chavez #riri williams #agatha harkness #nebula #valkyrie

[the-scarlet-witch-22]

Love and Liabilities: Chapter Two (Agatha Harkness/Fem!Reader)

Summary: The weekend before your last year of law schools begins, you celebrate the end of your summer associate position, where you meet an intriguing woman at the bar.

Word Count: 6.6k

Tags: 18+ Minors Do Not Engage!! Smut, dirty talk, light degradation kink

A/N: Hello! I’ll be in rehearsals this weekend so I’m updating a few days early. This chapter, as well as the next few, will be set in the past and marked accordingly. Thank you so much to everyone who read chapter one, I’m so glad you enjoyed it! If you’d like to be added to the tag-list let me know. As always, I hope you enjoy and feel free to let me know what you think. 🩵

Tag-List: @aggieslittleslut @gilmorelivie @ris-ris-mind @sabstance-blog

Ten Years Prior

There was something so enticing about law school. Every attorney you ever met would warn you not to pursue law. It was their biggest regret, they would bemoan, and share horror stories of mountain high piles of readings and difficult exams that would slowly weed out the unworthy. The hundreds of thousands of dollars you would invest that wouldn’t guarantee you to pass the ever dreaded Bar Exam. The world of law was much like a game of cat and mouse; with the law student being the meek mouse and the demanding law professors and your fellow students as the prowling cats. Despite the many, many, many warnings, you ignored them.

You were the first person in your family to decide you wanted to be an attorney, so you were shocked to learn the vast majority of your classmates already had major ins to some of the top law firms in the country. It didn’t seem to matter that you received a top LSAT score, or that you were also accepted into one of the top law schools in the country, just like them. None of that mattered, you were already hundreds of steps behind everyone else. So, you conditioned yourself to work even harder. Endless hours of studying in the library, attending every office hour your professors would offer, taking any opportunity you could to network with any attorney who would reply to you on LinkedIn.

There was an even more alluring pull for you to get into corporate law, or “Big Law.” It wasn’t just the temptingly sky-high salary, or the perks that came with working for a major firm, it was the reputation. The attorneys who worked in corporate law were practically guaranteed a job in whatever other field or firm they wanted to move to next, due to the prestigious reputation they’d previously acquired. Unfortunately, you were competing against the majority of your classmates, most of whom had those direct family connections. Your ambition would always get the better of you, as it merely made you work even harder.

Eventually it paid off, as you received a summer associate position at the end of your second year at the top corporate law firm in Manhattan, Stark & Strange. You spent your summer working alongside some of the more powerful attorneys in the industry, and received paychecks that were larger than anything you had ever seen prior. The firm paid for an Uber Black to take you to and from your shoebox law school apartment, and even gave you a free gym membership. Practically every meal was comped, as you were wined and dined at restaurants where the bill cost more than your rent. It was a foreign world to you, the grueling hours made up for by designer handbags and any luxury you never dreamed of being able to afford, especially not on a summer associate’s salary.

You made a point to stay as late as they needed, and always volunteered to assist various attorneys with whatever work they needed done. Most of it was grunt work, like looking over a contract for typos, or printing hundreds of documents, but you soaked everything up like a sponge. Despite the many hours you spent at the firm, you hardly ever saw the men whose names were on the building, Tony Stark and Stephen Strange. But, you were making good connections with a few of the other attorneys.

Maria Hill, one of the senior attorneys, usually requested for you to assist her on projects. She was only slightly terrifying, and practically ran the firm like the Navy. But, she was extremely knowledgeable and always made a point to introduce you to anyone she deemed important enough. Towards the end of the summer you were working on a tedious editing assignment from one of the junior attorneys, when Maria sent you an email to stop by her office before the end of the day. This wasn’t entirely unusual, as she sometimes wanted your help with a last minute deal, and she would almost always DoorDash whatever meal you wanted if you stayed long enough.

Once you finally finished your assignment, you packed up your belongings and made your way to the top floor where Maria’s office was located. Stark & Strange was a towering skyscraper in the center of Manhattan. Even though you were in a smaller office with a few of the other summer associates, you still had a breathtaking view of the skyline. Many called the design a waste of time and money, but those people clearly never met Tony Stark. No expense was spared when designing the project, and Maria told you it took over a decade to complete. But, when you’re a multimillionaire attorney, money was but a mere object. The hallways were becoming more familiar as the weeks passed, and it was a bittersweet feeling when you remembered your time was almost up.

The door to Maria’s office was slightly ajar, but you still knocked and waited for her curt response for you to enter. She was sitting at her desk, her dark hair pulled back in a tight bun, glasses hanging low on her face as she appeared to be typing. Her office was one of your favorites, it was so open and had a comfortable atmosphere. She had a variety of plants placed throughout the room, and you figured she must have a green thumb, but her paralegal once quietly shared how Maria often committed one of the worst sins of gardening…overwatering. You awkwardly stood near the doorway, contemplating if you should come back when she appeared to be less busy.

As if she sensed your hesitation, she gently shut her laptop, and placed her glasses on the desk, looking up at you. “Sorry about that, Stephen needed a contract updated before tonight.” She motioned to an empty chair. “Come, sit.”

Taking a seat, you nervously folded your hands across your lap, setting your bag on the ground next to your feet. “So, you wanted to see me?”

“I did,” Maria confirmed, giving you a curious glance. “Your last day is tomorrow, right?”

You nodded, and felt a twinge of sadness at the thought. “My first day of classes is next Monday.”

Maria hummed, a thoughtful appearance on her face. “This is your last year of school?”

“Yes ma’am,” You replied, unsure of why she was asking you this.

“Tony and Stephen like to take out a select group of the summer associates every year for celebratory drinks,” Maria explained, and you swore you saw her roll her eyes ever so slightly before adding, “It’s mostly an excuse for Tony to brag more about the firm, but the drinks are free, and strong.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, you didn’t realize they were having another dinner. “Oh, well that sounds nice.”

Maria nodded before continuing talking. “They usually ask the senior attorneys to each invite one of the summer associates, and my pick was you.”

You felt your eyes widen, she picked you? Shaking your nerves aside, you gave her a wide smile. “Thank you so much, Ms. Hill. I’m honored.”

“It’s my pleasure,” Maria insisted, standing up and motioning for you to join her. “I know I’ve asked a lot of you this summer, but you rose to the challenge.”

Lightly blushing, you waited for her to grab her briefcase before you followed her out of the office. “I didn’t mind, I actually really enjoyed all of it.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Maria said, and she seemed sincere. “I believe Tony made the reservation for eight o’clock, but I’ll send you the details in the morning. Thank you again, I’ve appreciated your help.”

The elevator doors opened and you bid her farewell, as she went down the hallway to see if her wife was still working or was wrapping up. You could hardly believe it, sure you were sad that your summer was just about up, but you were one of the few associates selected for a special night out with all of the top attorneys and partners. A few of your classmates told you the partners would occasionally extend job offers to the top performing summer associates for when they graduated and passed The Bar, but you knew there was a slim chance of that happening to you.

Your last day flew by. You weren’t assigned much actual “work”, instead you spent most of the day chatting with the other summer associates and a few of the junior attorneys. Before you knew it, you were signing out for the last time, and handing in your key card and laptop on your way out. Maria had her paralegal forward you all the details, the bar they selected was yet another establishment you normally wouldn’t be able to afford, The Raines Law Room at The William Hotel. One of your roommates went there once with her parents, and gushed about how pretty and unique the space was, so you were excited to see it for yourself. The firm had allotted you one more Uber on their card, and you fully intended to use it.

The drive was surprisingly short, as traffic was relatively light for a Friday night. You sent your roommates a text reminding them that you’d be out late, before focusing your attention out the window. It had almost been three years since you moved to New York for law school, against your parents wishes, and you were still in awe of it. Yes, it was filthy, and there were rats and cockroaches galore, but every major city was dirty. New York was full of history and culture; there were thousands of places to explore, and millions of other people who were trying to find where they fit into this beautiful, messy story. You couldn’t imagine living anywhere else.

You arrived at the bar just before eight, you had a habit of needing to be early for every social function you attended. The Raines Law Room was everything your roommate described, and even more so in person. It wasn’t the usual type of bar you’d go to, and it was broken up into multiple rooms with the actual bar in the center of it all. Many of the rooms were furnished with bookcases and cozy, expensive furniture that reminded you of a library. It didn’t take you long to find your group, as Tony had apparently rented one of the private rooms. There were only around twenty people in attendance, Maria wasn’t kidding when she told you it would be a small gathering. You recognized two of the other associates who had been invited, Kate Bishop and Yelena Belova, and you gave them a friendly wave.

Maria was in the corner of the room, sitting on one of the couches with her wife, Natasha Romanov. You’d only briefly encountered the redhead, as she did a lot of international travel for the firm. They were speaking with Tony Stark, the latter who appeared to be at the end of telling a very animated story. Maria noticed you lingering, and waved you over once Tony finished talking. You awkwardly made your way over, trying not to trip in the process; you’d always been terribly clumsy. There was an empty spot next to Maria, so you took a seat.

“I’m glad you could make it,” Maria warmly greeted you. “Do you remember my wife, Natasha?”

“Of course, it’s great to see you again,” You said to the woman sitting on the other side of Maria.

Natasha offered you a small smile, wrapping her arm around Maria’s shoulder. “Maria’s been telling me all summer how much of a help you’ve been, and believe me, she doesn’t praise just anyone.”

Maria nudged Natasha’s shoulder. “That’s not true, I just have high expectations, unlike someone.”

Natasha playfully rolled her eyes. “Right, of course dear.” She turned to Tony, who was scrolling through his phone. “Have you met Maria’s young mentee, Stark?”

He looked up at the mention of his name, and his eyes landed on you. “Oh right, I remember you. Maria’s been raving about you for the past few months, and Natasha’s right, that’s a pretty rare occurrence for her.”

Maria glared at him, clearly unamused. “Funny as always, Tony.”

Sticking out his hand, you took it and gave it a firm shake. “Thank you so much for the opportunity this summer, Mr. Stark. I’ve learned so much.”

Tony waved his hand in dismissal. “Don’t mention it. Have you met my other platonic, legal half? He’s probably lurking around here somewhere.”

“Most likely avoiding you,” Natasha quipped to Tony, her eyes scanning the room. “Looks like he’s over by my sister.”

Her sister? You turned your head to look around the room, until you saw Stephen lightly conversing with Yelena. You didn’t realize she was Natasha’s sister, and Natasha seemed to note your confusion.

“Yelena doesn’t like people to know we’re related,” Natasha explained, her tone more gentle as her eyes were locked on her sister. “She thinks people will say she only got the position because I work here.”

“Well she’s not entirely wrong,” Tony offered, ignoring the glare Natasha gave him, before wildly waving his arms to get Stephen’s attention. It didn’t take long for Stephen to notice, and you watched him frown.

“Did you need something, Tony?” Stephen questioned, annoyance clear by his tone.

“Well you keep lecturing me on not offering the summer associates jobs without you being present,” Tony pointed out, “God forbid I have any fun.”

“I only told you that because you once tried to convince half of them they could only have the job if they signed a contract saying they could only refer to you as their Overlord,” Stephen pointed out, and Natasha briefly snickered before Maria shot her a disapproving look.

“It was a joke!” Tony exclaimed, pointing at you. “Back me up here, if I told you that, you would know I was joking, right?”

“Um…” You trailed off, your brain replaying what he had just said to Stephen about jobs. “I’d probably have to read the contract first.”

Tony sighed, “The world isn’t what it used to be. Fine then, Strange, you’re up.”

Stephen sat down next to Tony, and just like the latter did, he stuck his hand out for you to shake. “It’s nice to formally meet you. Maria’s kept us up to date on all the work you’ve been completing. How have you enjoyed your summer at the firm?”

“It’s been the most wonderful opportunity,” You raved, wondering if this conversation was heading where you desperately hoped it was. “I’m so grateful for everything I’ve learned.”

Stephen nodded, “We’re always happy to see our summer associates take the opportunity to use all of the resources we have available. Now, at the end of every summer, we like to ask our senior attorneys if they would like to refer anyone for a job. Maria, as well as a handful of others, all recommended you.”

Your brain short circuited, not quite believing what you were hearing. “You’re offering me a job?”

“We’d like to invite you to join the firm as a junior associate once you’ve graduated and passed The Bar,” Stephen continued, and you felt faint. “It’s a written offer that we can send to you on Monday morning.”

“That you’ll have one of the paralegals email out on Monday morning,” Tony corrected him before looking back to you. “What do you say? Do you want to join the greatest firm in the city? The salary is competitive, of course. Full benefits and all.”

Natasha snickered again, only this time Maria didn’t try to stop her, and you remembered how Maria mentioned Tony liked to take this time to brag. There were so many emotions swirling around in your head, but you were mostly in shock.

Stephen seemed to notice you were overwhelmed. “You can take the weekend to think it over, and take a look at the offer on Monday. I’m sure this is a lot to take in all at once.”

You nodded, grateful for that. “Thank you so much, Mr. Strange, Mr. Stark. I’m so thankful for the opportunity.”

“We’ll talk on Monday,” Tony reiterated, standing up, and practically dragged Stephen with him. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you so much,” You acknowledged Maria, who had been quietly conversing with Natasha. “I honestly can’t believe this is really happening.”

“You deserve it,” Maria insisted, relaxing ever so slightly against Natasha. “Congratulations, and I hope we’ll be working together again next summer.”

“You’re getting soft in your old age,” Natasha lightly teased her wife, giving you a wink. “Congratulations, and good luck on your final year of school.”

You thanked them both for a final time, before letting them have some privacy. There were still so many thoughts rushing through your brain, and the room was so bright and so loud, you needed to clear your head. As you started walking out of the room, you entered the main bar and decided that you didn’t need to clear your head, you needed a drink. The bar was fairly quiet, with a few patrons scattered throughout the room. You made your way to an empty stool, and waited for the bartender to finish making a drink before you ordered a vodka tonic.

There was hardly anyone else sitting at the bar, except for a woman a few stools down from you. She had dark brown hair, tucked behind her ears, and she was sipping on a glass of some variety of red wine. From a quick glance, you could see she was reading something on her phone, and you watched the frown lines on her forehead deepen every so often as she continued to scroll. The bartender came back with your drink, and you thanked him before taking a small sip.

“Come here often?” An unfamiliar voice asked, and you curiously turned your head to find the woman a few stools down was now staring at you.

“I beg your pardon?” You replied in confusion, wondering if she was talking to you.

The woman arched an eyebrow at you, and you felt your cheeks flush under her heated gaze. She stayed in her seat, but her eyes remained locked on yours. “Some people would call that a pick up line, but not you apparently.”

“Do you often hit on strangers in a bar?” You questioned, watching her take a sip of her wine.

“Well if you came and sat next to me, you wouldn’t be much of a stranger,” The woman countered, and patted the bar stool next to her.

This was crazy, you reasoned with yourself. This woman could be a lunatic, or a serial killer. But she was looking at you with an expression you couldn’t decipher, and her eyes were so blue that you could feel yourself slowly getting lost in them. Before you fully realized what you were doing, you scooted over until you were sitting next to her. Her red lips turned up in a smirk, and she shut her phone off, placing it in her bag. There was something so intriguing about her, but you couldn’t pinpoint what it was.

“So what brings a pretty little thing like yourself here on a Friday night?” She asked curiously, her eyes hungrily searching yours, and you could feel your cheeks begin to darken at her words. You weren’t used to anyone looking at you the way she was.

“Um, I’m here for a work event,” You said quietly, unsure of how much information you were willing to share with a stranger. “An internship event, rather. What about you?”

The woman nodded, taking another sip of wine. “Mmm, this and that. I’m staying at The William for a few nights while my place gets redecorated,” There was a sparkling glint in her eyes as she added, “And there’s a rather spectacular view of the city from my room.”

The color deepened in your cheeks, and you chose to take a rather large sip of your drink. “Oh, that’s…interesting.”

“Isn’t it though,” The woman agreed, and you watched her fingers lightly twirl around the glass in her hand. “I never got your name, darling.”

“You didn’t ask,” You pointed out, and she smirked at you.

“Feisty thing, aren’t you?” She guessed, gracefully scooting her stool closer to yours, looking at you expectantly.

There was something so addictive about the way she was staring at you, and it made you lower your guard as you told her your name. She let out another low hum, and repeated it back to you, saying it nice and slowly, drawing out each syllable. At this point, she was close enough that you could smell her perfume. The rich notes of vanilla and lavender swirled together through your senses, and you felt yourself becoming more and more distracted. Taking another large sip of your drink, you realized it was nearly empty. The woman also seemed to notice, as she waved the bartender over.

“What are you drinking, dear?” She asked, her voice sweet like honey.

“A vodka tonic,” You replied, and she slid your empty glass towards the bartender.

“Another one of those, please, as well as a Pinot Noir. Put her drinks on my tab,” She instructed the bartender, ignoring your protest that you could pay for your own drinks.

“Don’t be silly,” She gently chided you, one of her hands moving up to brush your hair out of your face. “You have gorgeous eyes, has anyone ever told you that?”

Every compliment was leaving you more flustered than the last, and you had no idea how she was having this strong of an effect on you. It was the alcohol, your brain reasoned, that had to be it. “No, not really,” You replied, your voice growing more timid.

The woman let out a disapproving tsk, her fingers lingering on your face before slowly pulling away. “Disappointing, but not surprising.”

The bartender returned at that moment with your drinks, and you mumbled a quiet thank you, hoping this would give you some liquid courage. You realized at that moment she never told you her name.

Clearing your throat, you did your best not to sound as intimated as you were. She was this beautiful, sort of menacing, and slightly strange woman. You didn’t want to humiliate yourself. “You know, for someone who hounded me for my name, it’s a little odd you never told me yours.”

The woman smirked again, and you thought you saw her lick her lips. “You never asked, dear,” she pointed out, and her fingers reached out to lightly brush yours. “I’m Agnes.”

Her touch, light as it was, felt like a shock of electricity coursing through your system. You kept waiting for her to let go of your hand, but instead she gently turned it so your palm was visible, and began tracing patterns on it as she sipped her wine.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Agnes,” You said, your courage slowly disappearing, and you weren’t sure what it was that you wanted from her, you just knew you didn’t want her to stop touching you.

Agnes laughed, the rich sound ringing deliciously in your ears. “Believe me, honey, the pleasure is all mine.”

The hand stroking your palm began to make its way up your arm, and you were embarrassed by the goosebumps you felt by having her hands on you. Agnes also seemed to notice this reaction, and she was looking as if she wanted to eat you alive. She leaned in closer to you, her breath hot on your ear as she whispered, “I don’t normally do this, but I’d love to continue this discussion in my hotel room. Would you care to join me?”

It would seem tonight was just full of surprises. Her face was so close to yours, and your brain was still actively short circuiting. You’d barely spent any time with this woman, and you only knew her first name, but it didn’t matter. It was clear what this was, a one night stand. This didn’t have to mean anything, and you were riding a high from your job offer; you didn’t want it to mean anything. All you knew was that her breath was hot in your ear, and her fingers were lightly gripping your arm, and you wanted more. No, you needed more. You needed her.

Fearing you wouldn’t be able to produce any actual words, you wordlessly nodded in agreement. Agnes proceeded to close out her tab, and you made a quick note of the Black AmEx card the bartender returned to her. She guided you out of the room, her hand grazing your lower back. You felt like you were floating, and the only thing grounding you to reality was the feel of her fingers stroking your back, slowly moving lower with every step you took.

Upon reaching the elevators, Agnes waited for you to enter before following, and pressed the button for her floor. As soon as the doors closed, it was as if a switch went off. Her hands were all over you, and within a moment you were against the wall of the elevator. While her right hand stayed pressed against your back, moving down to grab at your ass, her left moved up to gently cup your cheek, forcing you to look at her. Her eyes began to darken with arousal, and before you could even process what was happening she kissed you.

You’d been kissed before, and you thought you knew how good it could be, but that was nothing compared to the feel of her lips against yours. She kissed you with fervor, like a woman starving and you were her salvation. Her lips were so soft and smooth against your own, it was addictive. As she lightly slapped your ass, bringing you impossibly closer to her, you let out a moan and she took that opportunity to slip her tongue between your lips. She tasted faintly of Pinot Noir, and you eagerly allowed her to dominate your mouth. Her hips jutted against yours, creating just enough friction for you to imagine how much better it would feel to have more.

The elevator dinged, signaling you were at her floor, and she reluctantly broke your kiss. You let out a quiet whine and Agnes chuckled, leaning in to whisper, “Patience, honey. My room is right down the hallway.”

She nearly had to drag you along, as your legs were starting to shake, and the walk to her room seemed endless. When you finally reached it, she hurriedly tapped her keycard to unlock the door. Yanking you inside, she slammed your back against the door, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. Wasting no time, she began messing with the clasp of your dress, and as it became undone she helped you out of it, leaving you in your bra and panties. The older woman let out a low growl, and pulled you flush against her. Moving you towards the bed, she nearly tore your bra and panties off in the process, before laying you flat on your back.

She straddled your hips, and when you attempted to move your hands up to her waist she swatted them back down. “Be a good girl and behave,” Agnes warned lightly. “I’d hate to have to restrain you.”

You couldn’t stop the moan that left your lips at that threat. Agnes smirked again, taking her shirt off and tossing it across the room, revealing a lacy dark purple bra. She leaned down and kissed you again, lightly biting your lower lip, causing you to groan into her mouth. It felt like she was all around you, but you needed more. You always prided yourself on your patience, but you were quickly losing it. Her lips left yours to trail down your jaw and the side of your neck, stopping near your collarbone. She began to leave hot, wet kisses along it, before biting down on the flesh at the base of your neck and sucking.

“Fuck,” You cried out at the sensation, and you heard her let out a low hum in response, keeping up her ministrations.

She left dozens of marks on you, and you were too lost in the haze of how good she felt to remember you were starting classes in two days. Her hands were relentless, moving all over your body. As her lips began to alternate attention between your breasts, her right hand moved between your thighs, and you both moaned as she felt how wet you were.

“Is all this for me, baby?” She murmured, raising her head up to yours, using two fingers to lightly tease your aching pussy. “What a pretty girl, dripping for me.”

Moaning, you arched your hips up, she was so close and you needed her fingers inside, filling you. “Please, Agnes.”

Letting out a low tutting noise, she pulled her fingers back. You whined, louder this time, and her responding grin sent a shiver down your spine. “Please what, honey? Tell me what you want.”

“Fuck me,” You begged, desperate to feel her fingers on you again. “Please, fuck me.”

“Good girl,” Agnes praised you, roughly thrusting two fingers inside you, going deeper than you normally could on your own.

Her fingers were so long, and so good, as she set a fast pace, twisting and hitting all of the sweet spots in you. You could barely breathe, all you could focus on was how good it felt to have her fucking you. Her thumb rubbed gentle circles on your clit, and the added stimulation made you cry out. You were soaked, the movement of her fingers taking you created an obscenely filthy sound that filled the room. It didn’t take long until you felt a familiar unraveling, signaling you were close to orgasming.

“Such a good little whore, you’re taking me so well,” Agnes cooed and you felt yourself clench at her words. “Do you like this? Do you like having me fuck your tight little cunt?”

“Oh my fucking-” You cried out, but were cut off as she chose that moment to add a third finger, expertly curling them and bringing you that much closer to your release.

“That’s it, slut,” Agnes growled, fucking you even harder. “Fuck, you feel so fucking good around my fingers.”

“Agnes, please,” You whined, needing to feel yourself come undone. “Please I need…”

Agnes smirked, not relenting in her efforts, and began to leave kisses around the edge of your mouth. “What do you need, baby? Use your words for me.”

“Need to come, please. I need to come,” You babbled, as she took you higher and higher with every thrust of her fingers, and your words caused the older woman to groan.

“Come on my fingers, sweetheart,” Agnes ordered, and you felt yourself lose focus as the pleasure overcame you.

It was mind numbingly good, and you barely recognized the scream that left your throat. All you could feel were her fingers inside you, gently coaxing you through your orgasm. Her fingers slowly stilled, and you felt yourself pulse around them as her thumb gently eased off your clit. Pressing a sweet, slow kiss against your lips, Agnes pulled her fingers out, causing you to whine at how empty you felt.

“You took me so well,” Agnes purred, and you felt yourself drip even more at her words. “Such a slutty little pussy, you can’t even form complete sentences when I’m fucking you.”

You groaned, the filth spewing out of her mouth was a major turn on for you. “It’s not my fault you’re turning my brain into mush.”

Agnes fake pouted at you. “Oh, poor baby,” She mocked, pressing her hips against yours. “It’s a good thing you don’t need to use that little brain while I’m fucking you.”

“Want to taste you,” You moaned out, the idea just popping into your head. “Please.”

“Oh? You want to eat me out, baby?” Agnes questioned, her eyes growing darker yet still from arousal. “Do you want me to ride that pretty little face?”

“Fuck yes,” You begged, causing Agnes to chuckle before taking off her pants and panties, and moving you closer to the headboard before she straddled your face.

You could smell her; the scent was musky and sweet and you were salivating, sticking your tongue out in anticipation. Agnes rested one hand on the headboard and the other in your hair, slowly lowering herself onto your mouth. You wasted no time, licking and sucking, tasting her arousal. The guttural moan she let out spurred you on, eager to please her. She tasted so fucking good, and your tongue lapped up as much of her as you could. Her fingers tightened in your hair as she began to rock against your face, and you moaned against her as she roughly tugged.

“Fuck, you’re such a good girl, baby,” Agnes panted as she moved her hips faster. “You’re doing so well. Such a good job. Suck on my clit.”

Ever hoping to please her, you switched to swirling your tongue around her clit before sucking, hard. The moan she let out, louder than before, was entrancing. Her fingers kept your head in place as she rode your face, and you could sense her getting closer to the edge. Your tongue teased her entrance, slowly pushing inside and Agnes let out a loud hiss, encouraging you to go deeper.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Fuck,” Agnes began to grind down, getting closer with every thrust of your tongue. “Such a sweet fucking mouth. Do you want me to come all over that pretty face?”

Nodding against her, you sucked and licked, thoroughly enjoying being used by her. It wasn’t long before she began to shudder, hips thrusting even harder against your face as she let herself go. She tugged on your head as she lost herself in the throes of pleasure, and you never saw something quite so beautiful. Her eyes were closed, head back as she let out several loud grunts, the sound causing you to twitch. You moaned at the taste of her cum, eager to get as much as you could. Her hips slowly stopped, and she gave herself a moment before lifting herself off of you, collapsing on the bed. She immediately pulled you closer, wrapping her arms around you. Her body was flush against yours, and you relished at the feeling of her tits pressed against your back. She was so soft, and so warm; every part of her felt like heaven to you.

She began to nuzzle your neck, pressing gentle kisses against your skin. “Fuck that was so good. Thank you, honey.”

“It was my pleasure,” You drawled out, growing more tired with every word you spoke, slowly feeling yourself drift off.

Agnes murmured something to you, but you were too far gone to hear what she said. The last thing you remembered was the feel of her body curled up around you as you finally passed out from exhaustion. You weren’t sure how long you slept, for when you finally woke up the room was filled with bright sunlight, causing you to wince. It didn’t take you long to realize you were alone, and the already large bed felt ten sizes too big. A part of you wondered if Agnes was in the bathroom, but when you eventually made it out of bed you realized she was gone. The room was completely empty, save for you and your clothes from last night.

You weren’t entirely sure what you had expected, it was a one night stand after all. But, you had assumed she would at least still be there in the morning when you woke up. Shaking those thoughts aside, you rushed to pick up your clothes and get dressed. As you were putting on your clothes, you noticed a small folded up note with your name on it on the bedside table. You slipped your heels back on before grabbing it, and was slightly disappointed to see how short it was.

Thanks again for a great night. -A

Well, at least she left you something. You crumpled the note and stuck it in your purse, leaving the room without a second thought. The next two days were spent in a daze, trying to get everything ready for the start of classes. Your roommates were thrilled to hear about your job offer, and even more intrigued to hear of your night out with an older woman. You kept the details to a minimum, as you always kept those things more private, but they enjoyed it nonetheless. By the time Sunday night rolled around you were absolutely spent. You had just finished marking up your planner for the next few weeks with your class schedule, and double checked the time for your first class as you set your alarm for bed before finally drifting to sleep.

Unfortunately, the exhaustion from the last few days made you sleep through your alarms, which almost never happened. But, after hearing your alarms go off one after another, one of your roommates came to check on you, the knocking on your door sent you shooting out of bed. You rushed through the apartment, throwing your laptop and books in your bag. As you were getting dressed, your eyes landed on the hickeys all over your neck, and you groaned. Great. Despite it still being summer, and extremely hot in the city, you wore a lightweight turtleneck. The lecture halls and library were usually freezing, so this wouldn’t seem too out of place to anyone.

Luckily your apartment was only a few blocks away from campus, and it never took you more than ten minutes to get there. You kept obsessively checking your watch, hoping to make it to your first class in time. Finally, you reached the correct building, and pulled up the class schedule on your phone to check which room you were in. Whipping around the corner, you spotted the door at the far end of the hallway. With one minute to go, you passed other students and professors, not a thought in your mind besides making it through those doors. Reaching the lecture hall, you opened the doors and went inside.The hall was relatively full, and as you searched for an empty seat you heard your professor begin to speak.

“Welcome to Ethics and Professional Responsibility in Criminal Practice.”

Wait a second, you knew that voice. How did you know that voice? You looked up, finding the last person you ever expected to run into, and you almost fell out of your chair. Standing there on the floor of the lecture hall was a strikingly familiar woman. It was the same woman from the other night, Agnes. Her messy dark brown hair was pulled back into an updo, and she wore an expensive looking black pantsuit. She was pulling up a slideshow on the laptop, so her back was turned, but it was her. You knew it was her. The strange thing was you didn’t remember reading her first name on the syllabus that had been sent out a few weeks prior.

After she finished projecting the slideshow, she turned her focus to the crowded lecture hall. “For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Agatha Harkness,” Her eyes scanned the room, until they eventually landed on you, and you watched her freeze, before quickly regaining her composure. “And I’ll be your professor for the semester.”

Fuck.

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