‘cause baby i’m a giver

“You can do better than that,” She replied, standing up and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She was enjoying herself. Enjoying every second of having you all to herself. Her finger trailed your collarbone to your shoulder and down your arm as she walked around you, making every muscle ache with tension.

You were no stranger to being tied up, although you much preferred being tied up by Natasha. The both of you knew it wouldn’t take much for you to free yourself, as much as she enjoyed them, she knew your muscles weren’t only for show. Her teeth sank into her bottom lip as she watched your arms flex, pulling your wrists apart.

The fabric started to give as Natasha rounded the corner, her finger roaming up the column of your neck and tilting your chin up. Her eyes roamed your face, snagging on your lips before following the bead of sweat sliding down the side of your face.

“Something wrong, baby?” Natasha placed her hands on either side of you, leaning down so her hair caged you in and your eyes landed on her cleavage. Her sweet perfume drove you mad, your arms tensing even further with the need to touch her. Your fingers twitched as the cloth binding your hands gave out a little more. You were still fully at her mercy.

“Please, Natasha,” Your eyes met hers, you’d do anything to touch her. She saw the raw desperation in your gaze, causing her own pupils to dilate. Every second that passed made her need for you grow stronger, she knew if she just said the words you’d be unleashed on her, but this was part of her game. “I need to touch you.”

“You need it?” She mocked, leaning closer to you, her mouth centimeters from yours. You felt her weight settle on your leg, her sheer lace camisole and thong doing nothing to conceal her arousal. “How much do you need me, baby?”

“Natasha,” You warned as she dipped her head to your neck. Her lips almost seared against your heated skin as she left a trail of wet kisses down your neck, her pebbled nipples rubbing against your own chest through the thin fabric of her lingerie. “Just–fuck–just feel for yourself.”

Natasha’s hand drifted from the back of your neck to the front of your body, featherlight fingers tracing over your nipple before drifting lower over your toned stomach to finally between your legs. Her fingers trailed down the length of the toy, then back up, pressing the base of the toy against you. Her teeth grazed the skin of your neck as her fingers traced your thigh, dragging out every second.

She felt your hips twitch forward, craving her touch. “So eager,” Her lips grazed the shell of your ear before her teeth tugged on your earlobe, making you shudder. The restraints were one moment of weakness away from completely ripping apart. The whine that left your lips was pitiful, your need winning over any need of self composure.

Natasha bit down on your pulse point as her fingers found the slick evidence of your desire, your body shuddering under hers. She hummed in approval, moving her fingers to gather as much of your arousal as possible with the limited access under your harness, making you buck your hips every time she changed direction. “Is this how much you need me, baby?”

“Fuck, Nat,” Somehow words still came to you through the pure lust coursing through your body and fogging up your brain. “I need you so much more than that.”

She pulled her fingers away and shifted over so she was properly straddling your lap. You looked down at her as she brought her fingers to her mouth and sucked them clean. Your jaw dropped, doing your hardest to not explode off your chair.

“How much more?” Natasha had one second to show you her smug grin before you ripped the binds holding your wrists together. Her hands immediately found purchase in your hair and brought your mouths together in a hungry kiss. Your hands reached around to her ass and squeezed, bringing her body closer to you and her core to rub against your toned stomach.

The contact made her gasp against your mouth, giving you the opportunity to slide your tongue into her mouth, battling her for the dominance she so delicately held onto. Your hands slid down her thighs before easily standing up off the chair, not breaking the kiss. Natasha’s nails scraped against your scalp as you turned toward the bed, kicking the chair out of your way.

You set her on her feet right before the edge of the bed, hands sliding up her back as you pressed her closer to you. The fabric separating your bodies gave you the perfect reminder they were still there. A mistake you were more than ready to remedy.

Natasha moaned as your hands slid around to her front, cupping her breasts and squeezing, sending her eyes rolling to the back of her head in pleasure. You were ready to rip the fabric off her body, and Natasha knew that too. She also knew her control was quickly slipping, and while she was more than happy to let you take over, she also wanted to hold out a little bit longer. Just to see how far she could push you.

Her hands wrapped around your hair before she pulled you away from her, your hands freezing as she brought your gaze back to her.

“Knees,” Her lips were swollen and her cheeks were flushed. You smirked up at her as she attempted to catch her breath, leaning forward to place gentle kisses on her hips, slowly trailing down to where you knew she wanted, needed you the most. Her grip on your hair tightened, pulling your face away from her so your eyes locked on her face. “Show me how much you need me.”

The sound of ripping fabric filled the room before you pushed Natasha backward onto the bed, sliding the ripped underwear out of your way in the process. You gripped her hips and dragged them down to the edge, lips slowly trailing up her inner thigh while she propped herself up on her elbows to look down at you.

Natasha ran her fingers over your hair then slid her hand down the side of your face, making you lean against her touch. You twisted your face toward her palm, placing a tender kiss there before leaning down to her sex.

Her scent alone drove you crazy, and with the exception of her safeword there was little in the world that could stop you from devouring her whole. Your tongue met her center with long, slow swipes, making Natasha release a heavenly moan as she threw her head back in pleasure. The hand in your hair pulled you closer and the other gripped onto the sheets as you continued to work between her thighs, slowly bringing her to the edge.

Natasha’s hips bucked up into your face as she laid back on the bed, making you hold her hips down on the bed.

“Fuck, baby,” Her hand found your forearm, nails digging into your skin as she held back her orgasm, wanting the bliss your mouth was bringing her to last forever. “Right there.”

Her other hand slid up her chest, desperately pulling on the fabric before her fingers started toying with her nipples. She needed you everywhere. Natasha’s thighs tensed around your head, her taste clouded everything, your need for oxygen secondary to her pleasure. You held her closer to you, feeling her abdomen tense with every lap of your tongue against her, bringing her closer to the edge with every stroke.

Her nails drew blood against your arm as she held herself at bay, her chest arching towards the ceiling at the pleasure coursing through her body. She tugged on your forearm, breaking your trance just long enough to understand what she was asking for.

You pulled away from her, quickly pinning both her arms above her head before clashing your lips together. Natasha was more than willing to relinquish control, her brain so far gone she needed you to take over.

“Fuck,” She moaned as your lips trailed down to her neck, whimpering as she felt the strap rub against her pussy. She opened her eyes, finding your gaze while she lifted her legs and flexed them around your body. “I need you inside me.”

The grin you showed her was nothing short of devilish. “Look who’s so eager now.”

Her arms fought against your grip, fighting to wipe the smirk off your face and put your mouth to something useful. You moved up her body again, rutting your hips against hers and making her moan your name. The sound was music to your ears. Natasha looked down at you again.

“Baby, please,” She begged as you bit down on her neck, releasing one of her hands to line your strap up with her entrance. You released her other hand to brace your hands on either side of her, her slick more than enough to easily slide into her in one swift motion. Her nails raked down your back as she moaned out in pleasure.

Your lips found hers again, your moans mixing as the base of the strap pressed deliciously against you. Her ankles clamped behind you, angling herself so the strap reached even deeper. Natasha was close, oh so close. But there was still too much fabric on her body and not enough of you touching her skin.

“Baby, I need more,” she begged, breath ragged and body tingling. “I need you everywhere.”

You pulled out of her, eliciting a whimper from her at the loss of contact before you turned her around, angling her so you were both facing the mirror on the wall. Your fingers tugged on her camisole, afraid if it was up to you to take it off, you’d rip it like you did to her underwear, which still hung from her hips.

Now naked, Natasha’s body almost glowed with pleasure and anticipation, her release almost visibly pent up and waiting for you. You looked at her through the mirror, her eyes hazy and roaming over your body as you slotted yourself behind her. Your hands slid around her waist, lips finding her shoulder and kissing up the side of her neck.

“Baby, no more teasing,” She whined, pushing her ass back against you. You let your teeth graze her skin, looking up at the mirror to see her desperate against you. Her hands found your muscled thighs, reaching as far back as she could to pull you against her. You chuckled against her skin, happy to drag this out just like when she had you tied up.

“Look at you, Natasha,” You pressed your lips against the shell of her ear, making her shudder against you in anticipation as you slotted the strap between her thighs. “Look at how pretty you look when you’re so desperate for my cock.”

You accentuated your point by thrusting the strap forward, the tip pushing through her wetness and gliding under her, applying the smallest amount of pressure to her sensitive clit. Her head fell against your shoulder as she whined, opening her legs wider trying to sink down on the toy. You reached up and guided her chin to face you, bringing your lips together in a deep, messy kiss as you inched into her.

Natasha’s body threatened to give out, muscles straining to keep herself upright as you continued to thrust into her. Your arms helped keep her up, adding pressure to her lower abdomen and bringing her to the brink of her release. By the way your movements turned deep and stuttered, she could tell you were finding your release too.

You moaned against her mouth, her nails digging into your thighs as she broke the kiss, making you look at yourselves in the mirror. The sight of your cock thrusting in and out of her was enough to have your legs shaking and your core tightening. You wouldn’t last much longer.

“You look so good like this, baby,” You whispered in her ear, almost out of breath from holding your release. Natasha moaned your name in warning, words beyond her when she was so close to what she needed. “Cum for me, baby, I wanna hear you.”

Natasha cried out as she let go, body shuddering against you as your thrusts continued, reaching your climax soon after her. The room filled with your moans and whimpers as you rode out your highs. Natasha fell forward first, arching her back and pushing against you, not ready for it to be over. You held onto her hips, stuttering your movements with the angle change.

Neither of you could stop, your hips continued pounding into Natasha, her moans making her throat hoarse as you both chased another high. You nudged Natasha’s knees farther apart before bending over her, your hand reaching around her front to her clit.

Your lips found the back of Natasha’s neck as she turned her head into the mattress, crying out in pleasure and reaching down to your forearm. You could feel her thighs tremble against yours and her grip on your arm tighten. You groaned against her, teetering on the edge once again.

“Fuck, baby, you make me feel so good,” You mumbled between thrusts, Natasha turned her head, whining as her core clenched and her climax washed over her for the second time. You followed suit, groaning against her and you slowed down your movements.

Natasha’s thighs trembled, and a whine escaped past her lips as you slowly pulled out of her, her arousal leaking out between her legs. You dropped next to her, allowing her to cuddle into your side, her head finding comfort in the crook of your neck.

“Fuck, baby,” She mumbled, idly tracing patterns on your toned abdomen, the muscles fluttering under her touch. “I didn’t know you had that in you”

You chuckled, looking down at her face and tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. You brought your mouths together again. This time in a slow, tender kiss. She hummed against your lips, a wave of relaxation and exhaustion crashing over her.

“I should tie you up more often,” Her face was still inches away from yours and you connected your lips once more before laying back, allowing her to rest the full weight of her head on your chest.

“You can do better than that,” She replied, standing up and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She was enjoying herself. Enjoying every second of having you all to herself. Her finger trailed your collarbone to your shoulder and down your arm as she walked around you, making every muscle ache with tension.

You were no stranger to being tied up, although you much preferred being tied up by Natasha. The both of you knew it wouldn’t take much for you to free yourself, as much as she enjoyed them, she knew your muscles weren’t only for show. Her teeth sank into her bottom lip as she watched your arms flex, pulling your wrists apart.

The fabric started to give as Natasha rounded the corner, her finger roaming up the column of your neck and tilting your chin up. Her eyes roamed your face, snagging on your lips before following the bead of sweat sliding down the side of your face.

“Something wrong, baby?” Natasha placed her hands on either side of you, leaning down so her hair caged you in and your eyes landed on her cleavage. Her sweet perfume drove you mad, your arms tensing even further with the need to touch her. Your fingers twitched as the cloth binding your hands gave out a little more. You were still fully at her mercy.

“Please, Natasha,” Your eyes met hers, you’d do anything to touch her. She saw the raw desperation in your gaze, causing her own pupils to dilate. Every second that passed made her need for you grow stronger, she knew if she just said the words you’d be unleashed on her, but this was part of her game. “I need to touch you.”

“You need it?” She mocked, leaning closer to you, her mouth centimeters from yours. You felt her weight settle on your leg, her sheer lace camisole and thong doing nothing to conceal her arousal. “How much do you need me, baby?”

“Natasha,” You warned as she dipped her head to your neck. Her lips almost seared against your heated skin as she left a trail of wet kisses down your neck, her pebbled nipples rubbing against your own chest through the thin fabric of her lingerie. “Just–fuck–just feel for yourself.”

Natasha’s hand drifted from the back of your neck to the front of your body, featherlight fingers tracing over your nipple before drifting lower over your toned stomach to finally between your legs. Her fingers trailed down the length of the toy, then back up, pressing the base of the toy against you. Her teeth grazed the skin of your neck as her fingers traced your thigh, dragging out every second.

She felt your hips twitch forward, craving her touch. “So eager,” Her lips grazed the shell of your ear before her teeth tugged on your earlobe, making you shudder. The restraints were one moment of weakness away from completely ripping apart. The whine that left your lips was pitiful, your need winning over any need of self composure.

Natasha bit down on your pulse point as her fingers found the slick evidence of your desire, your body shuddering under hers. She hummed in approval, moving her fingers to gather as much of your arousal as possible with the limited access under your harness, making you buck your hips every time she changed direction. “Is this how much you need me, baby?”

“Fuck, Nat,” Somehow words still came to you through the pure lust coursing through your body and fogging up your brain. “I need you so much more than that.”

She pulled her fingers away and shifted over so she was properly straddling your lap. You looked down at her as she brought her fingers to her mouth and sucked them clean. Your jaw dropped, doing your hardest to not explode off your chair.

“How much more?” Natasha had one second to show you her smug grin before you ripped the binds holding your wrists together. Her hands immediately found purchase in your hair and brought your mouths together in a hungry kiss. Your hands reached around to her ass and squeezed, bringing her body closer to you and her core to rub against your toned stomach.

The contact made her gasp against your mouth, giving you the opportunity to slide your tongue into her mouth, battling her for the dominance she so delicately held onto. Your hands slid down her thighs before easily standing up off the chair, not breaking the kiss. Natasha’s nails scraped against your scalp as you turned toward the bed, kicking the chair out of your way.

You set her on her feet right before the edge of the bed, hands sliding up her back as you pressed her closer to you. The fabric separating your bodies gave you the perfect reminder they were still there. A mistake you were more than ready to remedy.

Natasha moaned as your hands slid around to her front, cupping her breasts and squeezing, sending her eyes rolling to the back of her head in pleasure. You were ready to rip the fabric off her body, and Natasha knew that too. She also knew her control was quickly slipping, and while she was more than happy to let you take over, she also wanted to hold out a little bit longer. Just to see how far she could push you.

Her hands wrapped around your hair before she pulled you away from her, your hands freezing as she brought your gaze back to her.

“Knees,” Her lips were swollen and her cheeks were flushed. You smirked up at her as she attempted to catch her breath, leaning forward to place gentle kisses on her hips, slowly trailing down to where you knew she wanted, needed you the most. Her grip on your hair tightened, pulling your face away from her so your eyes locked on her face. “Show me how much you need me.”

The sound of ripping fabric filled the room before you pushed Natasha backward onto the bed, sliding the ripped underwear out of your way in the process. You gripped her hips and dragged them down to the edge, lips slowly trailing up her inner thigh while she propped herself up on her elbows to look down at you.

Natasha ran her fingers over your hair then slid her hand down the side of your face, making you lean against her touch. You twisted your face toward her palm, placing a tender kiss there before leaning down to her sex.

Her scent alone drove you crazy, and with the exception of her safeword there was little in the world that could stop you from devouring her whole. Your tongue met her center with long, slow swipes, making Natasha release a heavenly moan as she threw her head back in pleasure. The hand in your hair pulled you closer and the other gripped onto the sheets as you continued to work between her thighs, slowly bringing her to the edge.

Natasha’s hips bucked up into your face as she laid back on the bed, making you hold her hips down on the bed.

“Fuck, baby,” Her hand found your forearm, nails digging into your skin as she held back her orgasm, wanting the bliss your mouth was bringing her to last forever. “Right there.”

Her other hand slid up her chest, desperately pulling on the fabric before her fingers started toying with her nipples. She needed you everywhere. Natasha’s thighs tensed around your head, her taste clouded everything, your need for oxygen secondary to her pleasure. You held her closer to you, feeling her abdomen tense with every lap of your tongue against her, bringing her closer to the edge with every stroke.

Her nails drew blood against your arm as she held herself at bay, her chest arching towards the ceiling at the pleasure coursing through her body. She tugged on your forearm, breaking your trance just long enough to understand what she was asking for.

You pulled away from her, quickly pinning both her arms above her head before clashing your lips together. Natasha was more than willing to relinquish control, her brain so far gone she needed you to take over.

“Fuck,” She moaned as your lips trailed down to her neck, whimpering as she felt the strap rub against her pussy. She opened her eyes, finding your gaze while she lifted her legs and flexed them around your body. “I need you inside me.”

The grin you showed her was nothing short of devilish. “Look who’s so eager now.”

Her arms fought against your grip, fighting to wipe the smirk off your face and put your mouth to something useful. You moved up her body again, rutting your hips against hers and making her moan your name. The sound was music to your ears. Natasha looked down at you again.

“Baby, please,” She begged as you bit down on her neck, releasing one of her hands to line your strap up with her entrance. You released her other hand to brace your hands on either side of her, her slick more than enough to easily slide into her in one swift motion. Her nails raked down your back as she moaned out in pleasure.

Your lips found hers again, your moans mixing as the base of the strap pressed deliciously against you. Her ankles clamped behind you, angling herself so the strap reached even deeper. Natasha was close, oh so close. But there was still too much fabric on her body and not enough of you touching her skin.

“Baby, I need more,” she begged, breath ragged and body tingling. “I need you everywhere.”

You pulled out of her, eliciting a whimper from her at the loss of contact before you turned her around, angling her so you were both facing the mirror on the wall. Your fingers tugged on her camisole, afraid if it was up to you to take it off, you’d rip it like you did to her underwear, which still hung from her hips.

Now naked, Natasha’s body almost glowed with pleasure and anticipation, her release almost visibly pent up and waiting for you. You looked at her through the mirror, her eyes hazy and roaming over your body as you slotted yourself behind her. Your hands slid around her waist, lips finding her shoulder and kissing up the side of her neck.

“Baby, no more teasing,” She whined, pushing her ass back against you. You let your teeth graze her skin, looking up at the mirror to see her desperate against you. Her hands found your muscled thighs, reaching as far back as she could to pull you against her. You chuckled against her skin, happy to drag this out just like when she had you tied up.

“Look at you, Natasha,” You pressed your lips against the shell of her ear, making her shudder against you in anticipation as you slotted the strap between her thighs. “Look at how pretty you look when you’re so desperate for my cock.”

You accentuated your point by thrusting the strap forward, the tip pushing through her wetness and gliding under her, applying the smallest amount of pressure to her sensitive clit. Her head fell against your shoulder as she whined, opening her legs wider trying to sink down on the toy. You reached up and guided her chin to face you, bringing your lips together in a deep, messy kiss as you inched into her.

Natasha’s body threatened to give out, muscles straining to keep herself upright as you continued to thrust into her. Your arms helped keep her up, adding pressure to her lower abdomen and bringing her to the brink of her release. By the way your movements turned deep and stuttered, she could tell you were finding your release too.

You moaned against her mouth, her nails digging into your thighs as she broke the kiss, making you look at yourselves in the mirror. The sight of your cock thrusting in and out of her was enough to have your legs shaking and your core tightening. You wouldn’t last much longer.

“You look so good like this, baby,” You whispered in her ear, almost out of breath from holding your release. Natasha moaned your name in warning, words beyond her when she was so close to what she needed. “Cum for me, baby, I wanna hear you.”

Natasha cried out as she let go, body shuddering against you as your thrusts continued, reaching your climax soon after her. The room filled with your moans and whimpers as you rode out your highs. Natasha fell forward first, arching her back and pushing against you, not ready for it to be over. You held onto her hips, stuttering your movements with the angle change.

Neither of you could stop, your hips continued pounding into Natasha, her moans making her throat hoarse as you both chased another high. You nudged Natasha’s knees farther apart before bending over her, your hand reaching around her front to her clit.

Your lips found the back of Natasha’s neck as she turned her head into the mattress, crying out in pleasure and reaching down to your forearm. You could feel her thighs tremble against yours and her grip on your arm tighten. You groaned against her, teetering on the edge once again.

“Fuck, baby, you make me feel so good,” You mumbled between thrusts, Natasha turned her head, whining as her core clenched and her climax washed over her for the second time. You followed suit, groaning against her and you slowed down your movements.

Natasha’s thighs trembled, and a whine escaped past her lips as you slowly pulled out of her, her arousal leaking out between her legs. You dropped next to her, allowing her to cuddle into your side, her head finding comfort in the crook of your neck.

“Fuck, baby,” She mumbled, idly tracing patterns on your toned abdomen, the muscles fluttering under her touch. “I didn’t know you had that in you”

You chuckled, looking down at her face and tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. You brought your mouths together again. This time in a slow, tender kiss. She hummed against your lips, a wave of relaxation and exhaustion crashing over her.

“I should tie you up more often,” Her face was still inches away from yours and you connected your lips once more before laying back, allowing her to rest the full weight of her head on your chest.

“You can do better than that,” She replied, standing up and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She was enjoying herself. Enjoying every second of having you all to herself. Her finger trailed your collarbone to your shoulder and down your arm as she walked around you, making every muscle ache with tension.

You were no stranger to being tied up, although you much preferred being tied up by Natasha. The both of you knew it wouldn’t take much for you to free yourself, as much as she enjoyed them, she knew your muscles weren’t only for show. Her teeth sank into her bottom lip as she watched your arms flex, pulling your wrists apart.

The fabric started to give as Natasha rounded the corner, her finger roaming up the column of your neck and tilting your chin up. Her eyes roamed your face, snagging on your lips before following the bead of sweat sliding down the side of your face.

“Something wrong, baby?” Natasha placed her hands on either side of you, leaning down so her hair caged you in and your eyes landed on her cleavage. Her sweet perfume drove you mad, your arms tensing even further with the need to touch her. Your fingers twitched as the cloth binding your hands gave out a little more. You were still fully at her mercy.

“Please, Natasha,” Your eyes met hers, you’d do anything to touch her. She saw the raw desperation in your gaze, causing her own pupils to dilate. Every second that passed made her need for you grow stronger, she knew if she just said the words you’d be unleashed on her, but this was part of her game. “I need to touch you.”

“You need it?” She mocked, leaning closer to you, her mouth centimeters from yours. You felt her weight settle on your leg, her sheer lace camisole and thong doing nothing to conceal her arousal. “How much do you need me, baby?”

“Natasha,” You warned as she dipped her head to your neck. Her lips almost seared against your heated skin as she left a trail of wet kisses down your neck, her pebbled nipples rubbing against your own chest through the thin fabric of her lingerie. “Just–fuck–just feel for yourself.”

Natasha’s hand drifted from the back of your neck to the front of your body, featherlight fingers tracing over your nipple before drifting lower over your toned stomach to finally between your legs. Her fingers trailed down the length of the toy, then back up, pressing the base of the toy against you. Her teeth grazed the skin of your neck as her fingers traced your thigh, dragging out every second.

She felt your hips twitch forward, craving her touch. “So eager,” Her lips grazed the shell of your ear before her teeth tugged on your earlobe, making you shudder. The restraints were one moment of weakness away from completely ripping apart. The whine that left your lips was pitiful, your need winning over any need of self composure.

Natasha bit down on your pulse point as her fingers found the slick evidence of your desire, your body shuddering under hers. She hummed in approval, moving her fingers to gather as much of your arousal as possible with the limited access under your harness, making you buck your hips every time she changed direction. “Is this how much you need me, baby?”

“Fuck, Nat,” Somehow words still came to you through the pure lust coursing through your body and fogging up your brain. “I need you so much more than that.”

She pulled her fingers away and shifted over so she was properly straddling your lap. You looked down at her as she brought her fingers to her mouth and sucked them clean. Your jaw dropped, doing your hardest to not explode off your chair.

“How much more?” Natasha had one second to show you her smug grin before you ripped the binds holding your wrists together. Her hands immediately found purchase in your hair and brought your mouths together in a hungry kiss. Your hands reached around to her ass and squeezed, bringing her body closer to you and her core to rub against your toned stomach.

The contact made her gasp against your mouth, giving you the opportunity to slide your tongue into her mouth, battling her for the dominance she so delicately held onto. Your hands slid down her thighs before easily standing up off the chair, not breaking the kiss. Natasha’s nails scraped against your scalp as you turned toward the bed, kicking the chair out of your way.

You set her on her feet right before the edge of the bed, hands sliding up her back as you pressed her closer to you. The fabric separating your bodies gave you the perfect reminder they were still there. A mistake you were more than ready to remedy.

Natasha moaned as your hands slid around to her front, cupping her breasts and squeezing, sending her eyes rolling to the back of her head in pleasure. You were ready to rip the fabric off her body, and Natasha knew that too. She also knew her control was quickly slipping, and while she was more than happy to let you take over, she also wanted to hold out a little bit longer. Just to see how far she could push you.

Her hands wrapped around your hair before she pulled you away from her, your hands freezing as she brought your gaze back to her.

“Knees,” Her lips were swollen and her cheeks were flushed. You smirked up at her as she attempted to catch her breath, leaning forward to place gentle kisses on her hips, slowly trailing down to where you knew she wanted, needed you the most. Her grip on your hair tightened, pulling your face away from her so your eyes locked on her face. “Show me how much you need me.”

The sound of ripping fabric filled the room before you pushed Natasha backward onto the bed, sliding the ripped underwear out of your way in the process. You gripped her hips and dragged them down to the edge, lips slowly trailing up her inner thigh while she propped herself up on her elbows to look down at you.

Natasha ran her fingers over your hair then slid her hand down the side of your face, making you lean against her touch. You twisted your face toward her palm, placing a tender kiss there before leaning down to her sex.

Her scent alone drove you crazy, and with the exception of her safeword there was little in the world that could stop you from devouring her whole. Your tongue met her center with long, slow swipes, making Natasha release a heavenly moan as she threw her head back in pleasure. The hand in your hair pulled you closer and the other gripped onto the sheets as you continued to work between her thighs, slowly bringing her to the edge.

Natasha’s hips bucked up into your face as she laid back on the bed, making you hold her hips down on the bed.

“Fuck, baby,” Her hand found your forearm, nails digging into your skin as she held back her orgasm, wanting the bliss your mouth was bringing her to last forever. “Right there.”

Her other hand slid up her chest, desperately pulling on the fabric before her fingers started toying with her nipples. She needed you everywhere. Natasha’s thighs tensed around your head, her taste clouded everything, your need for oxygen secondary to her pleasure. You held her closer to you, feeling her abdomen tense with every lap of your tongue against her, bringing her closer to the edge with every stroke.

Her nails drew blood against your arm as she held herself at bay, her chest arching towards the ceiling at the pleasure coursing through her body. She tugged on your forearm, breaking your trance just long enough to understand what she was asking for.

You pulled away from her, quickly pinning both her arms above her head before clashing your lips together. Natasha was more than willing to relinquish control, her brain so far gone she needed you to take over.

“Fuck,” She moaned as your lips trailed down to her neck, whimpering as she felt the strap rub against her pussy. She opened her eyes, finding your gaze while she lifted her legs and flexed them around your body. “I need you inside me.”

The grin you showed her was nothing short of devilish. “Look who’s so eager now.”

Her arms fought against your grip, fighting to wipe the smirk off your face and put your mouth to something useful. You moved up her body again, rutting your hips against hers and making her moan your name. The sound was music to your ears. Natasha looked down at you again.

“Baby, please,” She begged as you bit down on her neck, releasing one of her hands to line your strap up with her entrance. You released her other hand to brace your hands on either side of her, her slick more than enough to easily slide into her in one swift motion. Her nails raked down your back as she moaned out in pleasure.

Your lips found hers again, your moans mixing as the base of the strap pressed deliciously against you. Her ankles clamped behind you, angling herself so the strap reached even deeper. Natasha was close, oh so close. But there was still too much fabric on her body and not enough of you touching her skin.

“Baby, I need more,” she begged, breath ragged and body tingling. “I need you everywhere.”

You pulled out of her, eliciting a whimper from her at the loss of contact before you turned her around, angling her so you were both facing the mirror on the wall. Your fingers tugged on her camisole, afraid if it was up to you to take it off, you’d rip it like you did to her underwear, which still hung from her hips.

Now naked, Natasha’s body almost glowed with pleasure and anticipation, her release almost visibly pent up and waiting for you. You looked at her through the mirror, her eyes hazy and roaming over your body as you slotted yourself behind her. Your hands slid around her waist, lips finding her shoulder and kissing up the side of her neck.

“Baby, no more teasing,” She whined, pushing her ass back against you. You let your teeth graze her skin, looking up at the mirror to see her desperate against you. Her hands found your muscled thighs, reaching as far back as she could to pull you against her. You chuckled against her skin, happy to drag this out just like when she had you tied up.

“Look at you, Natasha,” You pressed your lips against the shell of her ear, making her shudder against you in anticipation as you slotted the strap between her thighs. “Look at how pretty you look when you’re so desperate for my cock.”

You accentuated your point by thrusting the strap forward, the tip pushing through her wetness and gliding under her, applying the smallest amount of pressure to her sensitive clit. Her head fell against your shoulder as she whined, opening her legs wider trying to sink down on the toy. You reached up and guided her chin to face you, bringing your lips together in a deep, messy kiss as you inched into her.

Natasha’s body threatened to give out, muscles straining to keep herself upright as you continued to thrust into her. Your arms helped keep her up, adding pressure to her lower abdomen and bringing her to the brink of her release. By the way your movements turned deep and stuttered, she could tell you were finding your release too.

You moaned against her mouth, her nails digging into your thighs as she broke the kiss, making you look at yourselves in the mirror. The sight of your cock thrusting in and out of her was enough to have your legs shaking and your core tightening. You wouldn’t last much longer.

“You look so good like this, baby,” You whispered in her ear, almost out of breath from holding your release. Natasha moaned your name in warning, words beyond her when she was so close to what she needed. “Cum for me, baby, I wanna hear you.”

Natasha cried out as she let go, body shuddering against you as your thrusts continued, reaching your climax soon after her. The room filled with your moans and whimpers as you rode out your highs. Natasha fell forward first, arching her back and pushing against you, not ready for it to be over. You held onto her hips, stuttering your movements with the angle change.

Neither of you could stop, your hips continued pounding into Natasha, her moans making her throat hoarse as you both chased another high. You nudged Natasha’s knees farther apart before bending over her, your hand reaching around her front to her clit.

Your lips found the back of Natasha’s neck as she turned her head into the mattress, crying out in pleasure and reaching down to your forearm. You could feel her thighs tremble against yours and her grip on your arm tighten. You groaned against her, teetering on the edge once again.

“Fuck, baby, you make me feel so good,” You mumbled between thrusts, Natasha turned her head, whining as her core clenched and her climax washed over her for the second time. You followed suit, groaning against her and you slowed down your movements.

Natasha’s thighs trembled, and a whine escaped past her lips as you slowly pulled out of her, her arousal leaking out between her legs. You dropped next to her, allowing her to cuddle into your side, her head finding comfort in the crook of your neck.

“Fuck, baby,” She mumbled, idly tracing patterns on your toned abdomen, the muscles fluttering under her touch. “I didn’t know you had that in you”

You chuckled, looking down at her face and tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. You brought your mouths together again. This time in a slow, tender kiss. She hummed against your lips, a wave of relaxation and exhaustion crashing over her.

“I should tie you up more often,” Her face was still inches away from yours and you connected your lips once more before laying back, allowing her to rest the full weight of her head on your chest.

“You can do better than that,” She replied, standing up and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She was enjoying herself. Enjoying every second of having you all to herself. Her finger trailed your collarbone to your shoulder and down your arm as she walked around you, making every muscle ache with tension.

You were no stranger to being tied up, although you much preferred being tied up by Natasha. The both of you knew it wouldn’t take much for you to free yourself, as much as she enjoyed them, she knew your muscles weren’t only for show. Her teeth sank into her bottom lip as she watched your arms flex, pulling your wrists apart.

The fabric started to give as Natasha rounded the corner, her finger roaming up the column of your neck and tilting your chin up. Her eyes roamed your face, snagging on your lips before following the bead of sweat sliding down the side of your face.

“Something wrong, baby?” Natasha placed her hands on either side of you, leaning down so her hair caged you in and your eyes landed on her cleavage. Her sweet perfume drove you mad, your arms tensing even further with the need to touch her. Your fingers twitched as the cloth binding your hands gave out a little more. You were still fully at her mercy.

“Please, Natasha,” Your eyes met hers, you’d do anything to touch her. She saw the raw desperation in your gaze, causing her own pupils to dilate. Every second that passed made her need for you grow stronger, she knew if she just said the words you’d be unleashed on her, but this was part of her game. “I need to touch you.”

“You need it?” She mocked, leaning closer to you, her mouth centimeters from yours. You felt her weight settle on your leg, her sheer lace camisole and thong doing nothing to conceal her arousal. “How much do you need me, baby?”

“Natasha,” You warned as she dipped her head to your neck. Her lips almost seared against your heated skin as she left a trail of wet kisses down your neck, her pebbled nipples rubbing against your own chest through the thin fabric of her lingerie. “Just–fuck–just feel for yourself.”

Natasha’s hand drifted from the back of your neck to the front of your body, featherlight fingers tracing over your nipple before drifting lower over your toned stomach to finally between your legs. Her fingers trailed down the length of the toy, then back up, pressing the base of the toy against you. Her teeth grazed the skin of your neck as her fingers traced your thigh, dragging out every second.

She felt your hips twitch forward, craving her touch. “So eager,” Her lips grazed the shell of your ear before her teeth tugged on your earlobe, making you shudder. The restraints were one moment of weakness away from completely ripping apart. The whine that left your lips was pitiful, your need winning over any need of self composure.

Natasha bit down on your pulse point as her fingers found the slick evidence of your desire, your body shuddering under hers. She hummed in approval, moving her fingers to gather as much of your arousal as possible with the limited access under your harness, making you buck your hips every time she changed direction. “Is this how much you need me, baby?”

“Fuck, Nat,” Somehow words still came to you through the pure lust coursing through your body and fogging up your brain. “I need you so much more than that.”

She pulled her fingers away and shifted over so she was properly straddling your lap. You looked down at her as she brought her fingers to her mouth and sucked them clean. Your jaw dropped, doing your hardest to not explode off your chair.

“How much more?” Natasha had one second to show you her smug grin before you ripped the binds holding your wrists together. Her hands immediately found purchase in your hair and brought your mouths together in a hungry kiss. Your hands reached around to her ass and squeezed, bringing her body closer to you and her core to rub against your toned stomach.

The contact made her gasp against your mouth, giving you the opportunity to slide your tongue into her mouth, battling her for the dominance she so delicately held onto. Your hands slid down her thighs before easily standing up off the chair, not breaking the kiss. Natasha’s nails scraped against your scalp as you turned toward the bed, kicking the chair out of your way.

You set her on her feet right before the edge of the bed, hands sliding up her back as you pressed her closer to you. The fabric separating your bodies gave you the perfect reminder they were still there. A mistake you were more than ready to remedy.

Natasha moaned as your hands slid around to her front, cupping her breasts and squeezing, sending her eyes rolling to the back of her head in pleasure. You were ready to rip the fabric off her body, and Natasha knew that too. She also knew her control was quickly slipping, and while she was more than happy to let you take over, she also wanted to hold out a little bit longer. Just to see how far she could push you.

Her hands wrapped around your hair before she pulled you away from her, your hands freezing as she brought your gaze back to her.

“Knees,” Her lips were swollen and her cheeks were flushed. You smirked up at her as she attempted to catch her breath, leaning forward to place gentle kisses on her hips, slowly trailing down to where you knew she wanted, needed you the most. Her grip on your hair tightened, pulling your face away from her so your eyes locked on her face. “Show me how much you need me.”

The sound of ripping fabric filled the room before you pushed Natasha backward onto the bed, sliding the ripped underwear out of your way in the process. You gripped her hips and dragged them down to the edge, lips slowly trailing up her inner thigh while she propped herself up on her elbows to look down at you.

Natasha ran her fingers over your hair then slid her hand down the side of your face, making you lean against her touch. You twisted your face toward her palm, placing a tender kiss there before leaning down to her sex.

Her scent alone drove you crazy, and with the exception of her safeword there was little in the world that could stop you from devouring her whole. Your tongue met her center with long, slow swipes, making Natasha release a heavenly moan as she threw her head back in pleasure. The hand in your hair pulled you closer and the other gripped onto the sheets as you continued to work between her thighs, slowly bringing her to the edge.

Natasha’s hips bucked up into your face as she laid back on the bed, making you hold her hips down on the bed.

“Fuck, baby,” Her hand found your forearm, nails digging into your skin as she held back her orgasm, wanting the bliss your mouth was bringing her to last forever. “Right there.”

Her other hand slid up her chest, desperately pulling on the fabric before her fingers started toying with her nipples. She needed you everywhere. Natasha’s thighs tensed around your head, her taste clouded everything, your need for oxygen secondary to her pleasure. You held her closer to you, feeling her abdomen tense with every lap of your tongue against her, bringing her closer to the edge with every stroke.

Her nails drew blood against your arm as she held herself at bay, her chest arching towards the ceiling at the pleasure coursing through her body. She tugged on your forearm, breaking your trance just long enough to understand what she was asking for.

You pulled away from her, quickly pinning both her arms above her head before clashing your lips together. Natasha was more than willing to relinquish control, her brain so far gone she needed you to take over.

“Fuck,” She moaned as your lips trailed down to her neck, whimpering as she felt the strap rub against her pussy. She opened her eyes, finding your gaze while she lifted her legs and flexed them around your body. “I need you inside me.”

The grin you showed her was nothing short of devilish. “Look who’s so eager now.”

Her arms fought against your grip, fighting to wipe the smirk off your face and put your mouth to something useful. You moved up her body again, rutting your hips against hers and making her moan your name. The sound was music to your ears. Natasha looked down at you again.

“Baby, please,” She begged as you bit down on her neck, releasing one of her hands to line your strap up with her entrance. You released her other hand to brace your hands on either side of her, her slick more than enough to easily slide into her in one swift motion. Her nails raked down your back as she moaned out in pleasure.

Your lips found hers again, your moans mixing as the base of the strap pressed deliciously against you. Her ankles clamped behind you, angling herself so the strap reached even deeper. Natasha was close, oh so close. But there was still too much fabric on her body and not enough of you touching her skin.

“Baby, I need more,” she begged, breath ragged and body tingling. “I need you everywhere.”

You pulled out of her, eliciting a whimper from her at the loss of contact before you turned her around, angling her so you were both facing the mirror on the wall. Your fingers tugged on her camisole, afraid if it was up to you to take it off, you’d rip it like you did to her underwear, which still hung from her hips.

Now naked, Natasha’s body almost glowed with pleasure and anticipation, her release almost visibly pent up and waiting for you. You looked at her through the mirror, her eyes hazy and roaming over your body as you slotted yourself behind her. Your hands slid around her waist, lips finding her shoulder and kissing up the side of her neck.

“Baby, no more teasing,” She whined, pushing her ass back against you. You let your teeth graze her skin, looking up at the mirror to see her desperate against you. Her hands found your muscled thighs, reaching as far back as she could to pull you against her. You chuckled against her skin, happy to drag this out just like when she had you tied up.

“Look at you, Natasha,” You pressed your lips against the shell of her ear, making her shudder against you in anticipation as you slotted the strap between her thighs. “Look at how pretty you look when you’re so desperate for my cock.”

You accentuated your point by thrusting the strap forward, the tip pushing through her wetness and gliding under her, applying the smallest amount of pressure to her sensitive clit. Her head fell against your shoulder as she whined, opening her legs wider trying to sink down on the toy. You reached up and guided her chin to face you, bringing your lips together in a deep, messy kiss as you inched into her.

Natasha’s body threatened to give out, muscles straining to keep herself upright as you continued to thrust into her. Your arms helped keep her up, adding pressure to her lower abdomen and bringing her to the brink of her release. By the way your movements turned deep and stuttered, she could tell you were finding your release too.

You moaned against her mouth, her nails digging into your thighs as she broke the kiss, making you look at yourselves in the mirror. The sight of your cock thrusting in and out of her was enough to have your legs shaking and your core tightening. You wouldn’t last much longer.

“You look so good like this, baby,” You whispered in her ear, almost out of breath from holding your release. Natasha moaned your name in warning, words beyond her when she was so close to what she needed. “Cum for me, baby, I wanna hear you.”

Natasha cried out as she let go, body shuddering against you as your thrusts continued, reaching your climax soon after her. The room filled with your moans and whimpers as you rode out your highs. Natasha fell forward first, arching her back and pushing against you, not ready for it to be over. You held onto her hips, stuttering your movements with the angle change.

Neither of you could stop, your hips continued pounding into Natasha, her moans making her throat hoarse as you both chased another high. You nudged Natasha’s knees farther apart before bending over her, your hand reaching around her front to her clit.

Your lips found the back of Natasha’s neck as she turned her head into the mattress, crying out in pleasure and reaching down to your forearm. You could feel her thighs tremble against yours and her grip on your arm tighten. You groaned against her, teetering on the edge once again.

“Fuck, baby, you make me feel so good,” You mumbled between thrusts, Natasha turned her head, whining as her core clenched and her climax washed over her for the second time. You followed suit, groaning against her and you slowed down your movements.

Natasha’s thighs trembled, and a whine escaped past her lips as you slowly pulled out of her, her arousal leaking out between her legs. You dropped next to her, allowing her to cuddle into your side, her head finding comfort in the crook of your neck.

“Fuck, baby,” She mumbled, idly tracing patterns on your toned abdomen, the muscles fluttering under her touch. “I didn’t know you had that in you”

You chuckled, looking down at her face and tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. You brought your mouths together again. This time in a slow, tender kiss. She hummed against your lips, a wave of relaxation and exhaustion crashing over her.

“I should tie you up more often,” Her face was still inches away from yours and you connected your lips once more before laying back, allowing her to rest the full weight of her head on your chest.

“You can do better than that,” She replied, standing up and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She was enjoying herself. Enjoying every second of having you all to herself. Her finger trailed your collarbone to your shoulder and down your arm as she walked around you, making every muscle ache with tension.

You were no stranger to being tied up, although you much preferred being tied up by Natasha. The both of you knew it wouldn’t take much for you to free yourself, as much as she enjoyed them, she knew your muscles weren’t only for show. Her teeth sank into her bottom lip as she watched your arms flex, pulling your wrists apart.

The fabric started to give as Natasha rounded the corner, her finger roaming up the column of your neck and tilting your chin up. Her eyes roamed your face, snagging on your lips before following the bead of sweat sliding down the side of your face.

“Something wrong, baby?” Natasha placed her hands on either side of you, leaning down so her hair caged you in and your eyes landed on her cleavage. Her sweet perfume drove you mad, your arms tensing even further with the need to touch her. Your fingers twitched as the cloth binding your hands gave out a little more. You were still fully at her mercy.

“Please, Natasha,” Your eyes met hers, you’d do anything to touch her. She saw the raw desperation in your gaze, causing her own pupils to dilate. Every second that passed made her need for you grow stronger, she knew if she just said the words you’d be unleashed on her, but this was part of her game. “I need to touch you.”

“You need it?” She mocked, leaning closer to you, her mouth centimeters from yours. You felt her weight settle on your leg, her sheer lace camisole and thong doing nothing to conceal her arousal. “How much do you need me, baby?”

“Natasha,” You warned as she dipped her head to your neck. Her lips almost seared against your heated skin as she left a trail of wet kisses down your neck, her pebbled nipples rubbing against your own chest through the thin fabric of her lingerie. “Just–fuck–just feel for yourself.”

Natasha’s hand drifted from the back of your neck to the front of your body, featherlight fingers tracing over your nipple before drifting lower over your toned stomach to finally between your legs. Her fingers trailed down the length of the toy, then back up, pressing the base of the toy against you. Her teeth grazed the skin of your neck as her fingers traced your thigh, dragging out every second.

She felt your hips twitch forward, craving her touch. “So eager,” Her lips grazed the shell of your ear before her teeth tugged on your earlobe, making you shudder. The restraints were one moment of weakness away from completely ripping apart. The whine that left your lips was pitiful, your need winning over any need of self composure.

Natasha bit down on your pulse point as her fingers found the slick evidence of your desire, your body shuddering under hers. She hummed in approval, moving her fingers to gather as much of your arousal as possible with the limited access under your harness, making you buck your hips every time she changed direction. “Is this how much you need me, baby?”

“Fuck, Nat,” Somehow words still came to you through the pure lust coursing through your body and fogging up your brain. “I need you so much more than that.”

She pulled her fingers away and shifted over so she was properly straddling your lap. You looked down at her as she brought her fingers to her mouth and sucked them clean. Your jaw dropped, doing your hardest to not explode off your chair.

“How much more?” Natasha had one second to show you her smug grin before you ripped the binds holding your wrists together. Her hands immediately found purchase in your hair and brought your mouths together in a hungry kiss. Your hands reached around to her ass and squeezed, bringing her body closer to you and her core to rub against your toned stomach.

The contact made her gasp against your mouth, giving you the opportunity to slide your tongue into her mouth, battling her for the dominance she so delicately held onto. Your hands slid down her thighs before easily standing up off the chair, not breaking the kiss. Natasha’s nails scraped against your scalp as you turned toward the bed, kicking the chair out of your way.

You set her on her feet right before the edge of the bed, hands sliding up her back as you pressed her closer to you. The fabric separating your bodies gave you the perfect reminder they were still there. A mistake you were more than ready to remedy.

Natasha moaned as your hands slid around to her front, cupping her breasts and squeezing, sending her eyes rolling to the back of her head in pleasure. You were ready to rip the fabric off her body, and Natasha knew that too. She also knew her control was quickly slipping, and while she was more than happy to let you take over, she also wanted to hold out a little bit longer. Just to see how far she could push you.

Her hands wrapped around your hair before she pulled you away from her, your hands freezing as she brought your gaze back to her.

“Knees,” Her lips were swollen and her cheeks were flushed. You smirked up at her as she attempted to catch her breath, leaning forward to place gentle kisses on her hips, slowly trailing down to where you knew she wanted, needed you the most. Her grip on your hair tightened, pulling your face away from her so your eyes locked on her face. “Show me how much you need me.”

The sound of ripping fabric filled the room before you pushed Natasha backward onto the bed, sliding the ripped underwear out of your way in the process. You gripped her hips and dragged them down to the edge, lips slowly trailing up her inner thigh while she propped herself up on her elbows to look down at you.

Natasha ran her fingers over your hair then slid her hand down the side of your face, making you lean against her touch. You twisted your face toward her palm, placing a tender kiss there before leaning down to her sex.

Her scent alone drove you crazy, and with the exception of her safeword there was little in the world that could stop you from devouring her whole. Your tongue met her center with long, slow swipes, making Natasha release a heavenly moan as she threw her head back in pleasure. The hand in your hair pulled you closer and the other gripped onto the sheets as you continued to work between her thighs, slowly bringing her to the edge.

Natasha’s hips bucked up into your face as she laid back on the bed, making you hold her hips down on the bed.

“Fuck, baby,” Her hand found your forearm, nails digging into your skin as she held back her orgasm, wanting the bliss your mouth was bringing her to last forever. “Right there.”

Her other hand slid up her chest, desperately pulling on the fabric before her fingers started toying with her nipples. She needed you everywhere. Natasha’s thighs tensed around your head, her taste clouded everything, your need for oxygen secondary to her pleasure. You held her closer to you, feeling her abdomen tense with every lap of your tongue against her, bringing her closer to the edge with every stroke.

Her nails drew blood against your arm as she held herself at bay, her chest arching towards the ceiling at the pleasure coursing through her body. She tugged on your forearm, breaking your trance just long enough to understand what she was asking for.

You pulled away from her, quickly pinning both her arms above her head before clashing your lips together. Natasha was more than willing to relinquish control, her brain so far gone she needed you to take over.

“Fuck,” She moaned as your lips trailed down to her neck, whimpering as she felt the strap rub against her pussy. She opened her eyes, finding your gaze while she lifted her legs and flexed them around your body. “I need you inside me.”

The grin you showed her was nothing short of devilish. “Look who’s so eager now.”

Her arms fought against your grip, fighting to wipe the smirk off your face and put your mouth to something useful. You moved up her body again, rutting your hips against hers and making her moan your name. The sound was music to your ears. Natasha looked down at you again.

“Baby, please,” She begged as you bit down on her neck, releasing one of her hands to line your strap up with her entrance. You released her other hand to brace your hands on either side of her, her slick more than enough to easily slide into her in one swift motion. Her nails raked down your back as she moaned out in pleasure.

Your lips found hers again, your moans mixing as the base of the strap pressed deliciously against you. Her ankles clamped behind you, angling herself so the strap reached even deeper. Natasha was close, oh so close. But there was still too much fabric on her body and not enough of you touching her skin.

“Baby, I need more,” she begged, breath ragged and body tingling. “I need you everywhere.”

You pulled out of her, eliciting a whimper from her at the loss of contact before you turned her around, angling her so you were both facing the mirror on the wall. Your fingers tugged on her camisole, afraid if it was up to you to take it off, you’d rip it like you did to her underwear, which still hung from her hips.

Now naked, Natasha’s body almost glowed with pleasure and anticipation, her release almost visibly pent up and waiting for you. You looked at her through the mirror, her eyes hazy and roaming over your body as you slotted yourself behind her. Your hands slid around her waist, lips finding her shoulder and kissing up the side of her neck.

“Baby, no more teasing,” She whined, pushing her ass back against you. You let your teeth graze her skin, looking up at the mirror to see her desperate against you. Her hands found your muscled thighs, reaching as far back as she could to pull you against her. You chuckled against her skin, happy to drag this out just like when she had you tied up.

“Look at you, Natasha,” You pressed your lips against the shell of her ear, making her shudder against you in anticipation as you slotted the strap between her thighs. “Look at how pretty you look when you’re so desperate for my cock.”

You accentuated your point by thrusting the strap forward, the tip pushing through her wetness and gliding under her, applying the smallest amount of pressure to her sensitive clit. Her head fell against your shoulder as she whined, opening her legs wider trying to sink down on the toy. You reached up and guided her chin to face you, bringing your lips together in a deep, messy kiss as you inched into her.

Natasha’s body threatened to give out, muscles straining to keep herself upright as you continued to thrust into her. Your arms helped keep her up, adding pressure to her lower abdomen and bringing her to the brink of her release. By the way your movements turned deep and stuttered, she could tell you were finding your release too.

You moaned against her mouth, her nails digging into your thighs as she broke the kiss, making you look at yourselves in the mirror. The sight of your cock thrusting in and out of her was enough to have your legs shaking and your core tightening. You wouldn’t last much longer.

“You look so good like this, baby,” You whispered in her ear, almost out of breath from holding your release. Natasha moaned your name in warning, words beyond her when she was so close to what she needed. “Cum for me, baby, I wanna hear you.”

Natasha cried out as she let go, body shuddering against you as your thrusts continued, reaching your climax soon after her. The room filled with your moans and whimpers as you rode out your highs. Natasha fell forward first, arching her back and pushing against you, not ready for it to be over. You held onto her hips, stuttering your movements with the angle change.

Neither of you could stop, your hips continued pounding into Natasha, her moans making her throat hoarse as you both chased another high. You nudged Natasha’s knees farther apart before bending over her, your hand reaching around her front to her clit.

Your lips found the back of Natasha’s neck as she turned her head into the mattress, crying out in pleasure and reaching down to your forearm. You could feel her thighs tremble against yours and her grip on your arm tighten. You groaned against her, teetering on the edge once again.

“Fuck, baby, you make me feel so good,” You mumbled between thrusts, Natasha turned her head, whining as her core clenched and her climax washed over her for the second time. You followed suit, groaning against her and you slowed down your movements.

Natasha’s thighs trembled, and a whine escaped past her lips as you slowly pulled out of her, her arousal leaking out between her legs. You dropped next to her, allowing her to cuddle into your side, her head finding comfort in the crook of your neck.

“Fuck, baby,” She mumbled, idly tracing patterns on your toned abdomen, the muscles fluttering under her touch. “I didn’t know you had that in you”

You chuckled, looking down at her face and tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. You brought your mouths together again. This time in a slow, tender kiss. She hummed against your lips, a wave of relaxation and exhaustion crashing over her.

“I should tie you up more often,” Her face was still inches away from yours and you connected your lips once more before laying back, allowing her to rest the full weight of her head on your chest.

You start walking to the kitchen, and Bucky hesitates for a moment before realizing you're inviting him in. He follows and plants himself on one of your counter stools. Utensils clink as you open the drawer to grab a fork. You pop the tupperware in the microwave, and the smell of Sam's cooking quickly fills the kitchen.

Bucky and you are both silent as the machine hums softly in the background. He taps his finger on the counter, trying to figure out what someone is supposed to say in a situation like this. The microwave beeps.

"If I act sad enough, will Sam give me the recipe for this one?" You ask as you stuff some in your mouth, opening your mouth mid-bite when you realize it's far too hot.

"I think you'd have to be on death's door for that to happen."

"I can arrange that." You shrug. Bucky glares at you. "Sorry."

Bucky lets you eat for a while before hitting you with the horrible question. "So, how are you doing?"

"Shit. I had to put my phone in a different room from me so that I don't text her," you say honestly.

"I noticed."

"Please, like you ever answer your phone."

"Okay, Sam noticed," Bucky admits. You stab your fork rather violently into another piece of food. "Are you going to talk to her?"

"I want to," you say quietly. "I really want to."

"Sam told me to tell you not to settle for someone shitty just because you're lonely."

"That's the hard part though. I don't think she's shitty."

"You don't think that the woman who scammed you, stalked you, and lied to you about it for almost two months is shitty?" Bucky asks in disbelief.

"Okay, she did shitty things. But I don't think she's shitty."

"Actions speak louder than words."

"But her actions also told me that she cares about me. A lot," you state with full confidence. It's not delusion. You're sure of it. There was no doubt in your mind that Agatha's feelings for you were real. That's what makes this part so hard. "She notices basically everything I do. And she does sweet things sometimes, like when we went thrifting she got me that Beanie Baby. It would be easier if I thought she didn't care, to be honest. Then I'd just end things…Is it crazy that I'm not even that mad at her for it?"

"Yes, actually," Bucky answers honestly.

Yeah, that's fair.

"Well, I'm not. I think she really didn't mean for it to be some big plot to pull the rug from under me or anything. Like, I am upset. Don't get me wrong." You pace back and forth in your small kitchen, taking a moment to try to collect your thoughts. "I mostly just feel stupid for not reading the signs. Like, the red flags were right in front of me the entire time."

Honestly, the worst part—that you refused to speak aloud to anyone because you have to pretend to have some dignity in this situation—is that you did read the signs. You just blatantly ignored them. There was a huge, illuminated billboard above Agatha's head that said, "WARNING: THIS ZONE IS POPULATED BY AN EMOTIONALLY STUNTED DYKE WHO TAKES IT OUT ON EVERYONE ELSE AND HAS LITTLE REGARD FOR THE WELL-BEING OF OTHERS," and you walked right into the disaster site.

It makes you feel ridiculous. And, like Agatha had so kindly put it, pathetic.

"Yeah, they kinda were. You even ignored completely different red flags. Is she still stealing from customers?"

"Not helping."

"Sorry. Sam also thought I should say that he told you so. But maybe now's not the time."

"He can tell me himself when he gets back." You sigh and round the counter, sitting next to Bucky on the other stool.

"If it doesn't work out, there are other people out there. Ones who don't play games with your head."

"But I don't want other people. I want the one who's so infuriating that it makes me want to scream."

"Agatha is a mess," Bucky insists.

"I like her mess!" You say, throwing your arms up in exasperation. "I wouldn't have kept seeing her if I didn't like the mess."

Bucky doesn't have a retort to that.

"What do I do, Bucky?" You ask. "I don't want to just come running back. I need to show that I have at least a little bit of spine."

You do actually want to run back into Agatha's arms, but the self-preservation side of your brain won't let you. This has been all you've thought about for almost 48 hours. The last words that she said to you rolling around in your brain.

"She wants me to be the one to make the move," you say. "She's afraid to do it herself."

"Why?"

"Vulnerability is to Agatha like silver to a vampire." Bucky chuckles a little at the comparison. "If she wanted to break up with me, she'd just do it. But, since she left the ball in my court…"

"Ah, I see."

"Yeah."

After a few moments of contemplation, Bucky speaks up again.

"Look, I'm not exactly good at this type of thing. Maybe you should ask Sam for his opinion too…" Bucky scratches the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable with having this job. "But, maybe just give it a little more time and see if she comes to you and apologizes."

"And if she doesn't?"

"Then she's not interested in patching things up." Bucky shrugs. "I know you really like Agatha, but if she can't do that bare minimum, then I don't think it's a smart move to keep seeing her."

"Couples therapy did wonders for you, y'know." You nudge his shoulder with your own. Bucky rolls his eyes and pats you awkwardly on the back.

"I just don't think I handled it that poorly. I mean, three days and not a single text? They usually text me every time a light breeze passes. Now that something's actually happening, nothing? It's ridiculous, right Mister?"

Scratchy's nose twitches. Agatha groans, continuing her pacing around him. The apartment smells like alcohol, and there's food wrappers under her feet that she just kicks away. Music blasts through her speakers, far too loud and no doubt going to result in the old lady down the hall filing a complaint. But Agatha doesn't care. She needs to hear anything besides the voice in her head yelling at her.

"There's no way I'm reaching out first. That's stupid. If they don't talk to me, they're done with me. That's it. Why would I go chasing them?"

Out loud, it sounds an awful lot like coping. But Agatha is too drunk to notice it right now. She burps and grimaces at the residual taste of wine. She grabs a half empty bottle of water from the coffee table, chugging it and crunching the empty plastic. It gets tossed towards the kitchen, not even close to the trash can.

"Stupid," Agatha grumbles. "Stupid piece of shit. Can't even throw your garbage away properly."

Suddenly, the front door squeaks open. Agatha immediately reaches for the closest weapon-like object and winds up to hit whoever is invading her apartment. When she sees Wanda walk in, she lowers the wand vibrator and drops it on the couch.

"Um, heard of knocking?" Agatha scowls as Wanda walks over to her speaker and turns the music down. "I was listening to that."

"Yeah, that's why you couldn't hear me knocking." Wanda puts her bag down and starts picking up some of the trash on the floor and setting it in a pile off to the side.

"Did you just come here to clean? I don't hate that."

"You've been drunk texting me all day. I thought I should check on you," Wanda says. She sits on the couch, her hand finding Scratchy's soft head. "You haven't drank like this in years."

"I haven't been drunk texting you." Agatha rolls her eyes, grabbing her phone and looking through her messages. She doesn't look through the aimless yelling for long before tossing the device on the coffee table. She wants to throw it as far as possible, but you might text. "Fine. I have. Are you here to fix me or whatever? We both know how much you love a project."

Wanda doesn't say anything, just continues to pet Scratchy while watching Agatha start to pace angrily again.

"Go on, tell me how badly I fucked up. I could've handled it so much gentler. Held their hand while I apologized on my knees and begged for their forgiveness. I'm sure they would've loved seeing that. How fucking desperate I looked, begging them not to leave me. The great Agatha Harkness, reduced to a pathetic mess. Well, too bad. Because I'd rather die than do that shit." Agatha spits out the words like poison. Her expression is a bit frantic, and anyone who wasn't Wanda would probably have left her to deal with this crash out on her own. "Or, maybe they should've realized it sooner. I mean, come on. I have a fucking rabbit tramp stamp and fucked them while talking about the Triple Goddess. But let's ignore any signs that I'm into witchcraft, because it surely must just be a coincidence. Or the fact that I messaged them the same goddamn day that they bought a love spell. And if they weren't so desperate for attention in the first place, they never would've bought that obviously bullshit spell from a fucking Etsy listing!"

"Sounds like you've already got it all figured out," Wanda hums, glancing up at Agatha. She's known Agatha for far too long and has learned that poking the bear only makes things worse. Agatha wants the fight. So the only way that Agatha will calm down is letting her run out of steam.

The atmosphere is oppressive, squeezing Agatha's lungs so tight that she might burst. Agatha takes deep breaths and pinches herself hard, trying to refocus. After repeating that process a few times, Agatha pulls her fingers away from her arm and sees deep nail marks in them. The tightening is a little less intense. She sits down on the floor, tucking her legs up and putting her hands in her face.

Don't cry. Don't you fucking cry.

"Do you remember how we met?" Wanda asks, diverting Agatha's attention away from her spiraling.

Yes.

"No."

Agatha would really rather not think about high school, but she does remember. Wanda and Pietro were new students, a year below her. Agatha was being forced to help tutor other kids because, while she had perfect grades, she kept getting into worlds of trouble. Stealing, vandalizing, smoking on school property, you name it. Never cheating though. She did that work herself, thank you very much. Not that it was good enough for her mother, but whatever.

Pietro was a horrible student with a case of ADHD so powerful that even specialized teachers struggled keeping him focused. But, for some reason Agatha's methods clicked with him. Wanda was a good student other than struggling a bit with English still occasionally, but the twins were attached at the hip, so she always attended Pietro's sessions.

"I didn't think you liked me, at first," Wanda continues anyway, knowing damn well Agatha remembers. "You would tell me to fuck off or say that you didn't have time to babysit me."

"Can't imagine why you thought I didn't like you," Agatha mumbles, moving her hands from her face and resting her chin in her palm.

"But when I asked if you would check my work, you always told me how well I was doing," Wanda smiles softly down at Agatha. "You were a good teacher, you know."

Agatha shrugs. "I guess."

"And when we lived together after graduation—"

"Don't fucking throw all my bad shit at me right now."

"Oh, which parts? The days you'd be drunk or high out of your mind or when you'd remind me that Pietro died in an armed robbery?" Wanda asks snarkily. "The comments that he wouldn't have died if he didn't have a 'stupid savior complex' were really helpful."

"Hey, they made you angry enough to snap out of your comatose grief, didn't they?" Agatha excuses, like she always does. It wasn't fair, but she's never played fair. Plus, she likes to believe that Pietro would have thought the swiss cheese jokes were funny. "Get to the goddamn point."

"The point is, that even when you were in the worst part of your life, you helped me. When I got pregnant."

Despite her current brooding state, Agatha does feel a glow of pride at the memory. Wanda was pregnant with twins, boyfriend long gone, and in no state to raise them. Determined to keep them out of the foster system like she went through, Wanda was desperate for other answers. Orphaned, brother dead, all Wanda had was the shitty friend who slept on the couch because she couldn't live with her mother anymore and couldn't afford her own place. Agatha, with her determination and quick thinking, went hunting down suitable families that were looking for a surrogate.

The Kaplans were a lovely couple. They kept in touch with Wanda over the past seven years, telling her that when she's ready she's more than welcome to meet Billy and Tommy formally.

Really, being forced to help out is what put Agatha on a slightly better path. She doesn't say this though. Wanda is surely already thinking it. Probably cites herself as partially responsible for Agatha turning from an angry alcoholic to a mostly normal drinker who only got into bar fights for fun, not because she couldn't control herself.

"You care so much, and you're horrible at showing it," Wanda says, cutting through Agatha's reminiscing.

"Please don't go all, deep down, you're a good person on me," Agatha groans. "I can't take that shit."

"Oh, I'd never go that far," Wanda deadpans. Agatha manages to crack a smile. "You're an asshole most of the time. And you don't give a shit about most people. But the ones you do like…"

"Yeah, yeah," Agatha waves her hand dismissively. "Save the analysis. I get it. I'm a real sweetheart. Just strawberries and sunshine over here."

"You need to talk to them."

"Who said I want them back? Maybe I realized that I don't actually care about a relationship that's only lasted a couple of months."

"Even if I didn't have multiple drunk texts saying exactly that, I would know. For one, your relationships usually last two days. Rio aside," Wanda points out. Agatha growls at the mention of her ex. She's surprised that Rio hasn't sensed Agatha's distress and popped up out of nowhere like she usually does to try to squeeze back into her life. Though, this time, Agatha thinks she might have the self-control not to entertain the toxic embrace. "You wouldn't have gone this far if you didn't care. You can hide it from everyone else, but not me. I've seen every horrible side of you, Agatha. I know the difference between when you're running because you're putting something behind you and when you're running because you're scared."

"I'm good at running, huh? Should try out for the Olympic sprint."

"And pushing too. Great at pushing people away."

"I might be too good at that one," Agatha sighs. She twists her rings around her fingers. "So, they're gonna come running back to me soon right? And I can get a really great ego boost and vindication that I actually did nothing wrong?"

Wanda narrows her eyes. Scratchy looks at her just as judgmentally. Traitor.

"Ugh, fine. Fuck my life."

The sun is still bright when you head out of work on Monday. Winter is making way for warmer weather and longer days at last. You squint in the bright light, having left your sunglasses in the car since you're so used to not needing them when you leave.

There's a car idling by the curb, and you don't think much of it since you can't even see that well in the light. Then it honks at you. You jump and clutch your bag tighter. You pause and finally get a good look at the car. The window is rolled down. You walk over to it, heart beating faster in your chest.

It's been a little over a week since you've seen her, and now she's shown up out of the blue.

"What are you doing here?"

Agatha's eyes are hidden behind her sunglasses. She's wearing the leather jacket that she bought at the thrift store, rolled up to her elbows. Her nails tap against the door of the car, black nail polish chipped. The last time they were painted was when you did them for her before your bookshop date. They shine in the sunlight.

Did she put a top coat on the chipped polish?

"Get in." Agatha nods towards the passenger seat.

"Why?"

"Just get in."

The breeze from the open window feels nice as Agatha drives. You're afraid to ask where you're going. You're afraid to say anything.

Is this going to be like before, where neither of you acknowledge what happened and try to move on? It's not ideal. And you're not sure how long that will last before you break and ask what the hell is wrong with her.

The car pulls into an apartment complex. Agatha parks, takes the keys out of the ignition, and gets out of the car. She looks at you just sitting there dumbly and slides her sunglasses to sit on top of her head. Her eyes have dark circles under them.

"Well, are you going to come see my apartment or what?"

The thought crosses your mind that you should be screaming at her right now. Or crying. Or being firm and demanding an apology before you come inside with her. But, instead, you suddenly find yourself sitting on her couch while she goes to her bedroom to grab something.

You look around. This is her space. The place she kept secret from you. It smells of lavender and the sickly sweet that surrounds her when she vapes. There's tied up trash bags by the kitchen counter as if she just cleaned. A scuffed spot on the wall near the door where she kicked off her boots.

Agatha's footsteps return, and suddenly something warm and fuzzy is dropped into your lap.

"Here, take this."

"What? Oh!" You gasp as you realize it's a rabbit. Her rabbit. "Scratchy?"

"Mhm." Agatha smiles as you immediately start cooing over her pet. She's shed her jacket, wearing just a t-shirt now. Her crow tattoo peeks from under the sleeve. She's not wearing a bra, you can see the outline of her nipple piercings.

Focus.

"So…" You trail off. You're not sure exactly how to do this.

"So, do you forgive me?"

"What?" You look at her, stunned. Agatha's expression is unreadable, so you can't begin to judge if she sincerely thinks that you'll accept this non-apology. "Agatha, you know you usually have to say sorry to be forgiven, right?"

"It was worth a shot, right?" She gives you a stupid smile. God, she's so infuriating. It fades quickly, eyes falling to look at Scratchy instead of you. "I…I don't do apologies. I usually piss people off enough that they don't even want one."

Scratchy hops over from your lap to Agatha's. You watch as she holds him close to her face, rubbing her cheek against his fur. It isn't lost on you that Agatha even bringing you here is her attempt at making things right. The fact that she came to you first is already something. Far more than what you expected. If she'd ghosted completely and you never saw her again, you wouldn't have been surprised given what you know about her history. Maybe this is as close as you'll get to Agatha admitting she was wrong, and you should just accept it. It's tempting.

But, even if you don't get a real apology, you want more answers.

"Why didn't you just tell me?" You ask. "At the beginning, I mean. Or just, introduced yourself like a normal person. I wouldn't have thought it was weird that you looked me up."

"You want the honest answer?" Agatha challenges. You nod. "I just wanted to see if I could pull it off. I thought for sure that you'd suspect something and put the pieces together."

"My fault for trusting you, I guess." You roll your eyes.

"Hey, I let you know from the beginning I was a top tier con-artist." Not exactly what you want to hear right now, but she's not wrong. "I shouldn't have been surprised it worked for as long as it did, to be honest. You looked past a lot of my…eccentricities pretty early, after all."

"I was hoping that your scamming was limited to elderly people in grocery stores."

"Yeah, well." Agatha shrugs. She sets Scratchy down on the floor and watches him hop around. Her hand finds yours. Not lacing your fingers together, but just resting on top. Giving you a chance to pull away. You don't. She takes a deep breath. "I don't have a good history. So, I had no reason to believe that we'd make it past the first date. Or the second date. Or any of the dates after that. I kept up the facade because I assumed that you'd eventually see through my bullshit and leave. Or that I would get bored."

"But I didn't."

"And I didn't either." Agatha smiles. "And by the time I realized, I was in my own scheme too deep to get out smoothly. I was trapped in my own stupid bullshit."

"What made you decide to tell me when you did?"

"Well, Wanda gave me a stern talking to, for one," Agatha admits sheepishly. "But really what pushed me to say it was when you started talking like some unseen force was the reason I was into you. I couldn't let you keep believing that."

You fidget by playing with her fingers and running yours across her palm, over the lines of her hand. The debate running in your mind has reached a standstill. The big question that still lingers is the deciding factor. You think that you know the answer, but with how much Agatha has played with you, it can't go unanswered.

"So, you never faked your feelings for me?"

"No." The response comes faster than you can even process it. Agatha looks at you, blue eyes intense and serious. "Never. Magic didn't bring us together, and no schemes made me stay. It was just you and me."

Your hand shakes a little as you bring it up to Agatha's face. Her skin is warm. She nuzzles her cheek against your hand, eyes closing. You lean in, pressing your forehead against hers.

"You know, that's not completely true," you say.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, magic technically did bring us together. You wouldn't have ever found me if I hadn't bought that spell. Even though you didn't cast it, the results were the same, yeah?"

"Very clever," Agatha chuckles, nose bumping against yours. "That's a much cuter story, isn't it? Drawn together because you wanted it enough. Maybe you're the witch here."

Soft lips meet your palm as Agatha places a gentle kiss there. "Are you still mad at me?"

You suspect that Agatha meant for the words to come out more playful, a classic Agatha mask. But her voice quivers a bit, almost imperceptibly.

The reality hits you that you are so deeply caught in this woman's web that it's pathetic. At least you're acknowledging it this time.

"I never was," you admit. "You made me feel really fucking stupid, but I couldn't get myself to be angry for long."

"Don't feel stupid," Agatha says firmly. She chews on her lip, eyes worried. "How can I make it up to you?"

Agatha Harkness does not apologize with words, even in the face of possibly losing you. But that question tells you everything you need to know. You pull back, looking at her pleading expression. No jokes, no acting, just Agatha. She might not be able to say it, but you know that the apology is there. It's written all over her face.

Nothing you could say would fully comfort Agatha from the vulnerability she's feeling right now. Instead, you lean in slowly, giving her time to pull away. She doesn't. Agatha's lips meet yours with a desperation that startles you momentarily. Her hands come up to cup your face, thumbs swiping across your cheeks as she starts to guide you to stand.

Clothes get tossed around her apartment floor on the way to Agatha's bedroom. The warm lighting illuminates her dark sheets that she pushes you down onto. You'd like to look around more, see what kinds of decor and mess she has laying around. But there's more important things to attend to.

Cool metal brushes against your now bare torso, Agatha's exposed nipple piercings brushing against your skin as she kisses down your body. Agatha wraps her arms around your thighs, hiking them over her shoulders. You tangle your hand in her mane of hair as she starts to bite your inner thighs. Tugging her up briefly, Agatha makes a disgruntled sound at the act of being pulled away.

"You're really sorry, right?" You pant, eyes full of need.

"Yes, baby. I am," Agatha finally admits, trying to push forward out of your grasp so that she can eat you out. Feeling a little mean, you hold her in place. It's deeply satisfying, seeing the pure evidence of Agatha's want for you. She'd never act this desperate outside of the bedroom, and you feel like you deserve to see a little groveling. Really, it's the least she can do, and this is definitely the only way you're going to get any verbal acknowledgement out of her. While her face is between your legs.

"I don't know," you hum. "What if you're just saying that so you can taste me?"

"Baby, if you let go, I'll show you just how sorry I am." Agatha's voice is husky. As vindicating as it would be to draw this out, you can't deny yourself the pleasure any longer. You release her. She lets out a feral noise and dives in, tongue pushing through your folds with fervor.

"Fuck, Agatha," you moan, head falling back against her pillow.

Wet noises fill the room, and Agatha is murmuring things that you can't make out at first. Through your haze, you can finally occasionally make out "sorry" and "missed you." Spilling all the words that she can't say to your face into your dripping cunt.

Agatha's lips wrap around your clit, suckling hard before swiping down to your entrance again. Your hips buck, her hands tightening around your thighs.

When you finally come, Agatha kisses your pussy until you're too sensitive to take any more. She trails her lips up your body with reverence. You feel her straddle your thigh, her own slick cunt rubbing against your bare skin.

Agatha's hair falls in curtains around your head as she looms above you, rocking her hips against you. You grip her waist and help guide her. Agatha gasps as her puffy clit finds the right friction.

"That's it, right there," Agatha moans. "You feel so good, you make me feel so good."

You pull her down for a kiss, her movements against you never ceasing. Mid-kiss, you feel dampness that isn't saliva on your cheeks. Agatha's crying. You pull back a bit and kiss one of the falling tears.

"Agatha, do you need to stop?"

"No, no, no. Anything but that," Agatha chokes out. "I…fuck. You're so good to me. Too good. I don't deserve it."

"Baby, it's okay. Don't talk like that. I've got you," You coo, sitting up a bit so that you can embrace her a bit better. Agatha's face falls against your neck. She's crying in earnest now, but she's still grinding down sloppily. Like the only thing keeping her grounded is her cunt against your thigh. You keep kissing her, keep whispering sweet nothings.

Sex must have sent all these pent up emotions into overdrive, and now they're spilling completely out of Agatha's control. You hold her through it, a solid thing to anchor her so she doesn't get lost, through every tear and through an orgasm that bursts through her with such force that she gushes against your thigh and falls completely limp on top of you.

The room feels still again as both of you try to catch your breath, sweaty bodies molded against each other.

"Are you leaving?" Agatha asks when you gently roll her body off of yours after a few minutes. Her voice wavers ever so slightly.

"I'm not going anywhere, promise. I'm just going to get us some water, okay?"

Agatha sniffles and nods, hiding her face in her pillow. No doubt smearing her runny eyeliner all over it. Moments later, you return and give her a water bottle that you already downed half of on the way back to the bedroom. As Agatha chugs the rest of it, you scoot back into bed beside her.

Both of you are slick with sweat and arousal, but Agatha immediately climbs on top of you again, as if making sure that you can't leave again.

"That was embarrassing," Agatha grumbles against your neck.

"What was?"

"That," Agatha emphasizes. "Ignore everything I did and said."

"No, I don't think I will." You nuzzle against her head. "You're wrong, by the way."

"Fuck you, no I'm not," Agatha huffs before asking. "What am I wrong about?"

"You said you don't deserve me being good to you. That's not true."

"No, I think you're definitely far too good to me. You probably should've punched my lights out in that damn museum."

"Probably. But that wouldn't have exactly helped the situation."

"But it might've felt good."

"Agatha, do you want me to punch you or something?"

"I don't know!" Agatha groans. "I feel crazy right now. Don't listen to me."

"Alright, fine. So bossy."

The moon shines through the window now, full and bright, rays streaming through Agatha's dark curtains. You shift, draping a blanket over you both. Agatha gets cold easily, always pressing her icy hands and feet against you to steal your body heat. She grumbles incoherently when you move her.

In the silence, you contemplate it all, wondering if letting Agatha back into your life is the right choice. What if there's more that she's keeping from you?

"Hey." You get her attention by poking her cheek.

"What?"

"Is there anything else you were hiding from me?" You ask bluntly. "I want this. I want you. But I would feel better knowing we had everything on the table, y'know?"

Agatha props herself up on her elbows so she can look down at you. Her hair is a tangled mess, and you know she'll be bitching about brushing it in the morning.

"Seems reasonable. Let's see…Oh, remember when I fucked you in the bookstore?"

"Yes…" You trail off, suddenly worried about whatever this reveal could be.

"The fantasy I mentioned. I had that the first time I saw your pictures."

"The first…When you were stalking me?" You blink in disbelief, then shoot her a little grin. "Agatha, you were really that desperate for me?"

"Shut up!" Agatha scoffs, but that pretty flush has returned. "I was stoned and horny."

"I'm never letting you live that one down," you giggle. "Agatha Harkness being so needy."

"Gross. Just call me a perv like a normal person."

"Are you sure you didn't cast the spell?" You tease, but the thought did cross your mind. "I mean, your listing did say that it would make me irresistible. And it sounds like someone didn't resist."

"I'm going to hex you."

"Fine, fine!" You laugh at how red she is now. "Anything else?"

Agatha ponders this for a moment before saying, "I stole that stuffed animal I gifted you. Tucked it in the jacket pocket."

"You stole Eve?"

"Who the hell is Eve?" Agatha looks at you with utter confusion.

"The deer, Agatha. I named it Eve."

"Don't those things come with names?"

"The tag was missing, and I thought it was cute!"

"If you're into forbidden fruit, maybe." You pout at her, and she relents. "Alright, fine. It's cute. Are we good now? Clean slate?"

"If that's all you have left to confess to, then yes. We're good."

"I can't promise I won't still do shit like that anymore," Agatha says, referring to her scamming. "But not to you again. Obviously. Unless it's like, some weird roleplay. I'd be into that."

"I had no intentions of stopping your schemes, Agatha," you assure her. "Honestly, I think if I tried to stop you it would just make you do it more out of spite."

"Nice to see you have so much faith in me." Agatha says flatly, but she tucks her head into the crook of your neck, and you can feel that she's smiling.

"What about you?" She mumbles against your skin.

"What about me?"

"Are you hiding anything?"

"What the hell would I be hiding?" You scoff and shake your head.

"Ugh, fine! Will you at least tell me about a time you jerked off to me so we're even?"

"You're impossible," you murmur. She kisses you again to appease you. "Fine. When you sent me all those pictures of outfit ideas for your leather jacket, I touched myself to them."

"And you didn't tell me?" Agatha looks genuinely offended. "I would've come over! Or we could've sexted at the very least."

Suddenly, Agatha springs up from the bed and you watch her ass move enticingly as she goes over to her closet.

"What are you doing?" You ask, sitting up to get a better view of her bent over naked.

"I'm going to let you see the outfits in person, duh. Grab my harness from the side table, and we'll do this properly."

You practically fall off the bed with how fast you move to obey.

Agatha wakes with a groan, the sunlight streaming in far too bright for her right now. Her whole body aches in the most delicious way. She's not even sure how late it was when the two of you finally passed out from pure exhaustion, but it was worth every sore spot. You're waking up, rubbing your eyes and blinking the sleep away. Scratchy is sound asleep in his pen in the corner, making squeaky rabbit noises as he dreams.

Agatha can hardly believe that this is actually real. She kisses your cheek. You giggle and your lips find hers. Morning breath be damned, the two of you kiss each other over and over again.

"Hi," you smile up at her. Agatha pecks you on the lips again.

"Hi."

"Do you have work today?" You ask, wondering how soon the real world will impede on cuddling.

"Fuck if I know." Agatha rolls off of you and grabs her phone from the nightstand. Hundreds of missed notification bubbles fill her screen, and she ignores most of them.

As she's flipping through messages from managers asking where the hell she's been for the past few days, Agatha scrolls by an Etsy notification. Another spell order.

"Ugh. Maybe I should just close my Etsy," Agatha says. You sit up and wrap your arms around her, head resting on her shoulder.

"Does it make good money?"

"It's fine, I guess." Agatha opens the order and squints a bit at her screen. God, she hopes she doesn't need to get her eyes checked soon.

It's another love spell order. Agatha almost tosses her phone aside to contemplate it later, but she glances at the request first.

"The pretty girl I'm dating has major commitment issues. Can you cast a spell to help her ask me to be her girlfriend officially?"

She doesn't even need to look at the customer name. Agatha whips her head around, smacking you in the face with her hair. You dissolve into laughter at the look on her face, falling backwards onto the bed.

"When did you even send this?"

"When I took a break to pee last night."

"I don't have commitment issues!" Agatha shouts.

"Prove it then." You grin at her.

Agatha can't help the smile on her face as she moves over you and tilts your chin up with her finger. "You're gonna have to butter me up a bit more than just a pretty girl, angel."

"You're in no positions to make demands, baby."

Fuck. You've got her there.

"Fine." Agatha closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, mentally preparing herself to ask the question. When she looks at you again, her blue eyes sparkle in the morning light. "Would you like to be my girlfriend? Officially?"

"Yes. On one condition," you say. Agatha raises an eyebrow. "We have to finish our museum date this weekend."

"I think that can be arranged." Agatha kisses you again, humming softly against your mouth. "But seriously. Just pretty girl? Nothing more specific?"

"What, you want me to say pretty girl with a perfect face and amazing ass?"

"That's literally exactly what I want," Agatha says like it should be obvious.

"You're ridiculous," you say with pure affection in your voice. Agatha's forehead comes to rest against your own.

"And you are officially stuck with me."

"Lucky me."

💜💜💜💜💜

Agatha groans, flopping back on the rug. Wanda's stupid responsible girlfriend absolutely hates Agatha, and she can't figure out why other than vague accusations of Agatha being a "bad influence" and a "freeloader" and "a menace to society." It's not like it's Agatha's fault that Wanda was nice enough to let Agatha crash on their couch for a few weeks after she left Rio.

The things that went missing after Agatha moved out could be considered her fault.

That time sucked. It reminded Agatha too much of the other time Wanda let her crash on her couch. Back before Wanda started dating Natasha, but right after Pietro died. The Maximoff twins had just graduated. The apartment was tiny, but Agatha had finally gotten a job so that she could be free from living with her bitch mother. Rooming with Wanda wasn't all bad, if you ignored the arguments they had when Agatha would be under the influence and get short tempered with a very raw and vulnerable Wanda who cried almost daily.

Somehow, after Agatha finally moved out, Wanda still wanted to be friends. Agatha isn't sure who is crazier, the one who kept making dead brother jokes when she was scared of admitting that she cared or the one who looked past it because at the time, all they had was each other.

Why is she thinking about this? What were they talking about?

Oh, right. Anyway. Agatha's pretty sure Natasha is just jealous.

"I'm hungry," Agatha says.

"I know."

"Your girlfriend is a bitch."

"Don't be mean."

"That's like asking a dog not to bark."

"Muzzle."

"You offering?"

"No."

"I'm going to raid your kitchen."

"Agatha," Wanda whines and sighs. "Fine, I'll get you something."

"Yeah, get in the kitchen and make me a sandwich." Agatha snorts at her own joke. Wanda just glares at her over her shoulder as she goes into the other room.

Something soft brushes against Agatha's arm, and she instinctively recoils. Wanda's (well, Natasha's) black cat blinks at Agatha. Probably wondering what her mommy's least favorite guest is doing on their floor. Agatha sits up, and the cat crawls in her lap.

"You're a lot nicer than your mom, aren't you Lilo?" Agatha mumbles.

"Her name is Liho!" Wanda calls out from the kitchen.

"Same thing." Agatha scratches Liho's cheeks, fascinated by soft she is. Having the cat right in front of her stirs up a thought, and she lowers her voice. "Do you want to know a secret, Liho?"

Liho doesn't respond.

"You seem like a good secret keeper, so I'll tell you," Agatha whispers. "I might have stolen your identity to cover up a little lie. I sent your picture to the person I'm seeing and said you were my pet. You don't mind, right?"

"What?"

"Holy shit, the cat can talk," Agatha gasps, but then she looks up to see that Wanda has returned with a grilled cheese in hand. Agatha reaches up and takes the paper plate eagerly. "We're so back."

"What did you just say to the cat?" Wanda blinks at her in disbelief.

"Why would I be talking to your cat." Agatha speaks through a mouthful of homemade sourdough and fancy farmer's market cheese.

"Agatha."

"I was telling her a secret. God, there's no privacy in this house!" Agatha throws her hands up dramatically, which scares Liho away. Agatha pouts. "Aw."

"It's my house," Wanda reminds her. She sits down in front of Agatha, smoothing her skirt over her legs. Agatha shifts awkwardly. "Why did you tell your girlfriend—"

"They're not my girlfriend," Agatha corrects quickly.

"Whatever. Why did you tell them that Liho was your cat?"

The room feels too warm. Agatha fidgets with the rings on her fingers. She could make up another lie easily, but Wanda is scrutinizing her now. Even though Agatha can still pull one over on Wanda a lot of times, she has a feeling this one won't slide.

"I can't tell them about Scratchy," Agatha mumbles.

"Are they…allergic? You know they make pills for that," Wanda suggests innocently.

"No. They can't know because Scratchy's picture is the one I use on Etsy listings."

The gears in Wanda's head turn. Agatha finishes her sandwich and sets the plate on the coffee table. She leans back on her hands. Wanda's eyes widen.

"Agatha, are you dating a client?"

"I don't think I'd call them clients, really. I think client implies something more professional, and therefore more questionable if I did it. I'm dating a customer." Agatha says it all casually. Wanda's reaction seems pretty subdued, so maybe the situation isn't as ethically dubious as Agatha thought. Her rambling continues.

"It's a funny story really. They bought a love spell, and as I do with all my customers, I stalked them a little bit. Nothing crazy, just finding their Instagram. And I was like, fuck they're cute. I hadn't even realized they lived in Westview yet!" Agatha laughs at the ridiculousness of the situation of her own design. "So, I messaged them. Worked my natural charm. And now we're dating. Or whatever you wanna call it."

Silence settles between them. Not the good kind of silence that Agatha has gotten used to with you. The bad kind of silence that makes Agatha think she might be in trouble.

"Let me get this straight," Wanda says finally. The conversation seems to have sobered them both up a bit, judging from the exasperated tone in Wanda's voice. Though, depending on the direction this takes, Agatha might take another hit.

"Do you have to?"

"Now isn't the time for a gay joke."

"Jeez." Agatha tugs at the collar of her shirt. "Tough crowd."

"Can you be serious for a single minute?"

"What's there to be serious about?" Agatha rolls her eyes. "I found a cute girl on Instagram and took a shot. Slam fuckin' dunk if you ask me."

"You stalked a customer—"

"Looking up someone's Instagram is normalized. Plus, they love those dark love stories, so they'd probably find it hot." Agatha shrugs. Wanda gives her a glare. Agatha waves her hand to tell Wanda to continue her lecturing.

"Someone who you know is emotionally vulnerable and probably sitting around waiting for their one true love to come and sweep them off their feet. Which you can't say you didn't know, because you literally performed a love spell for them!"

"Does it count if I didn't actually perform the spell?" Agatha asks. Wanda puts her face in her hands and lets out a groan of true frustration. "I'm just saying, like, where does that tip things on the morality scale?"

"That's…that's also shitty, but not the point, Agatha!" Wanda raises her voice. The tone shift puts Agatha even more on the defensive. "You took advantage of them while they were vulnerable."

"They're a big girl. They can handle it."

"Your relationship is based on a lie."

"Wouldn't you say that the ends justify the means?" Agatha proposes. "It's not like my intentions were bad."

They weren't exactly good either. Neutral, Agatha would posit. Omitting the fact that she found you by running a mild scam on you really doesn't seem important enough to inform you about.

Especially with how dramatic Wanda is being about the whole thing.

"What were your intentions?" Wanda asks.

"Well, I usually stalk my customers a bit anyway. But when I discovered they were cute, I figured I could get something out of it. Entertainment, at minimum. Sometimes I just like to see where something goes. Call it sociological curiosity."

"So, you're telling me you did this because you were bored?"

Sure. Just bored. Not lonely or anything.

"In the beginning, yeah. Then it turned out I actually enjoy their company, so I stuck around. Honestly, I assumed I would've sent them running by now. Not many people have been able to handle all this." Agatha gestures down her body. Wanda rubs her forehead. Probably a migraine again.

"Have you even considered that they might be looking past all your issues because they were so desperate for a relationship that they were willing to buy a love spell?"

"I didn't say anything about issues. Don't be a bitch."

"That's rich, coming from you."

"Why do you sound so pissed at me for this?" Agatha snaps, hackles raised. "It doesn't have anything to do with you."

This isn't like Wanda. Wanda will lecture her and tell her to be better, but the sass is new. That's Agatha's job, and she doesn't appreciate the competition.

"I'm sorry, I'm not mad at you," Wanda sighs. "I'm being hard on you because I worry."

"Worry about what?" Agatha sneers. "Everything is perfectly fine."

The longer this conversation goes, the more that Agatha is doubting herself. Which is a truly horrible emotion that she'd rather never feel again. She's always right. Even when she's wrong, she's basically right.

But she can hear herself making flimsy excuses. And, normally, she wouldn't give a fuck. She's been the villain before, and she'll happily be the villain again. The other people that she's screwed over in various ways didn't matter, so she wouldn't even bother trying to excuse her shit behavior. Once she got what she wanted, she'd happily embrace it. Why would she care about being an asshole to people she didn't give a shit about?

But this time is different. She's playing with the emotions of someone who actually gives a shit about her. Someone who sees past the thorny exterior and treats her gently, but not like she's something broken that needs to be fixed. Someone who seems like they not only can handle her, but actively wants to.

"I'm worried because I've seen the look on your face when you talk about them." Wanda chooses her words carefully, knowing that any direct accusations of four-letter-word-that-starts-with-L would send Agatha spiraling. Smart girl.

"I didn't think it would last this long," Agatha finally confesses in a reluctant mumble. Admitting that she severely miscalculated her plans physically pains her. "I didn't expect us to get to a point where I could even hurt them with this. I assumed I'd get bored and hurt them in a completely different way."

"Knowing you, that's not a horrible estimation," Wanda teases, though her smile is sympathetic.

Ugh. Pity.

"Did I screw this up before it even started?" Agatha asks. Her voice sounds a bit shaky. Stop it, Agatha. Do not get choked up. You can't get choked up over a relationship that's just over a month long. That's only one menstrual cycle!

Wanda doesn't respond, which is enough confirmation on its own.

"Alright. Well…Should I just break up with them?" Agatha proposes flippantly. "Since you think this is such a big deal."

Wanda purses her lips. Despite her exasperation, Agatha knows that Wanda will want to help. At this point, they were ride or die.

"I think your options are either to tell them or spend your entire relationship keeping the secret. The longer you keep it, the worse the reaction will be, probably," Wanda says. Agatha grunts, suddenly very interested in picking at the fibers of the rug they're sitting on. "I'm not going to tell you what to do, because we both know that you wouldn't listen. But, I think you should think about it."

Guilt is not a feeling that Agatha Harkness is used to. She's a little glad that she'd never truly experienced it before, because she is not enjoying the way that her mind is racing or the heavy feeling in the pit of her stomach or her heart clenching in a way that it usually only does when she's had too many energy drinks in one day.

With doubt heavy in her voice, Agatha shrugs and gives Wanda a smile that doesn't reach her eyes. "What they don't know won't hurt them, right?"

As you walk through the dusty shelves of the bookstore, fingers tracing along the spines as you pass, you suddenly see a small cloud of smoke from the adjacent aisle. You roll your eyes and peek around the corner, suspicions confirmed.

"Agatha, you can't vape in here."

Agatha looks at you incredulously. "Who says?"

"The no smoking sign."

"The one that shows a cigarette?"

"Smart-ass."

"Hey, you love my ass." Agatha winks. She does relent and tuck her pen back in her bag.

You were kind of expecting an argument, considering Agatha's moodiness today. Despite agreeing to go out, Agatha's been a bit off for the past week. You weren't off put by most of it, but you have noticed that you've been the one having to engage conversations and dates more often.

Was she losing interest?

Agatha is virtually impossible to read, so it was hard to say if it had something to do with you or her mind was simply on other things.

But of course, Agatha will always keep you guessing. Because the next thing you know, she's tugging you down a different aisle, towards the back of the store. The light above you both needs to be replaced. It flickers, leaving the little nook in partial darkness.

"What are you doing?" You ask. Agatha's expression has shifted from annoyance. You know that look in her eyes by now. Sparkling with mischief. Definitely planning something.

That something turns out to be pinning you against the bookshelf. You let out a gasp, surprised by the sudden force. The book you were carrying falls out of your hands and lands with a solid thunk.

"Agatha, what are you doing?" You repeat. She leans in closer to you.

"What do you think I'm doing, angel?" Agatha breath is warm against your lips. Her tongue darts out to tease you. Your back presses against the shelf, used copies of Twilight digging into your spine.

"Someone could see us."

"Doesn't that make it more exciting, baby?" Agatha grins. Her fingers tease under the hem of your shirt, tickling against the skin of your stomach. You flex your abdomen out of reflex which makes her chase your body so she can grip your waist. "Tell me to stop and I will."

Since your first time with Agatha, you've quickly learned that her libido is virtually unstoppable. Having been deeply starved for it for years, you certainly weren't complaining that you had a super hot woman asking if she could sit on your face daily. Frankly, it made you feel desired in a way that you never thought possible.

But you really weren't expecting the smell of old books to get her going today. You look around. This section is so tucked away that you can hardly hear the few other customers milling around. From this angle, you'd be able to see if someone got too close. Agatha's fingers drift slowly to the waistband of your pants. Paused. Waiting.

"Keep going," you whisper.

Fingers push into your underwear. Agatha presses her hips against you, her mouth against you. The heat of her breath is heavy on your neck. With how suddenly she sprung on you, you're not quite wet yet. Agatha removes her fingers and presses them against your lips. You part them, thankful for the way they muffle the needy sound you make as you suck on them.

Now slick with your spit, Agatha pushes her hand back into your pants and finds your clit. You bite your bottom lip hard. Her movements are frantic and sloppy. As much as you'd like her to take her time with you, you know that you have to be fast so that you don't get caught.

Agatha's eyes are on you, lips parted as ragged breaths come out. She's watching you intensely, but her brow is furrowed like her mind is still on something else. You bring a hand up and cup her face. Run your thumb over her lip and then over her cheekbone. She wants to say something, but the words are getting caught. Not at all like your Agatha.

"Talk to me," you murmur. She closes her eyes and her inhales sharply. You know the tenderness of your hand on her face always makes her clam up. She's not used to it. Which of course means you do it as much as physically possible.

"I…" Agatha swallows. She presses her forehead against yours. You can count the freckles that are scattered across her nose and cheeks from here. "I've thought about this. Taking you like this."

"In public?" You ask. Agatha pushes her fingers against your entrance. You gasp. She nods.

"In a bookstore," Agatha admits. Pink stains her cheeks, a pretty flush that you want to kiss. So you do. She makes a groaning noise. "You're always telling me about those books you read. Getting all flustered when I ask you about the smutty parts."

Your whole body feels like its on fire, eyes fluttering shut when she pushes a finger inside you. Any questions die in your throat as you let out a moan. Agatha covers your mouth with her other hand and keeps talking.

"I touched myself to the thought of doing this with you," Agatha says, voice low and husky. The thought of Agatha masturbating to the thought of you sends fire through your body and suddenly you feel yourself getting pushed closer to the edge of climax. In your time together, you've never known Agatha to show any shame for anything she does, but the expression on her face as she admits this to you betrays her. "I want you so bad."

"You have me," you whisper. Agatha leans in and kisses you deeply, tongue pushing into your mouth.

The shelf behind you creaks as she pushes you more flush against it, her body rocking against yours. One more finger added and a precise curl of her fingers is enough to make your body explode with pleasure. Agatha holds onto you tight, using the bookshelf to help support you so your legs don't give out.

With a kiss on the cheek and Agatha wiping her fingers on her pants, the two of you manage to pull yourselves together enough to make your purchases and leave. The cashier definitely gives your disheveled appearances a once over, but Agatha's glare makes them keep their mouth shut

In Agatha's car, music playing, you can feel that the earlier tension that was lingering around her has dissipated. She's humming along, hand on your thigh and fingers drumming rhythmically.

"Hey, maybe I could come over to your place tonight?" You suggest as she makes a rolling stop through an intersection. "You wouldn't have to drop me off, and your place is closer to here, isn't it?"

Agatha's hand freezes on your thigh. "I don't think that's a good idea."

You should've known better. She's never invited you over to her place. You've been trying to write it off as nothing, but every time she denies you, you can't help but wonder if she's hiding something.

"I don't mean to invite myself over," you start. "But I'd like to see your space, y'know? And meet Scratchy."

Your body jerks forward as Agatha hits the brake too hard. The red light that you've stopped at mocks you.

"No," Agatha says firmly, facing forward and refusing to meet your eyes. As if she ever focuses properly on the road.

"Why?" You finally ask. "Are you embarrassed about your apartment or something? I don't care if its a mess, I've seen how you keep your car—"

"I said no!" Agatha snaps.

You flinch. Agatha is known for having a bit of a temper, but she's never had one with you. You don't like it. Your body deflates, slumping back into the seat. What happened to the woman who was just obsessing over you? The trees look blurry as Agatha hits the gas again. Always driving just a bit too fast, like she's ready for a car chase at any moment.

The silence is painful. You don't want to be the one to talk first again. The ball is in her court. Her hand is still on your thigh.

Neither of you speak until she reaches your apartment building. You gather your things quietly. Her hand finally leaves your thigh, resting on the gear shift instead, tapping rapidly against it. You don't make eye contact, afraid that if you look at her she'll see the tears threatening to fall. You'd feel stupid for crying in front of her like this.

"Do you still want to go to the museum this weekend?" Agatha asks quietly the moment that you start to open the door.

It's not an apology. Or even an explanation. But, it's something.

It's the plans that you hadn't officially made. The thought of a fun date that you'd dropped in the middle of another conversation. You hadn't said directly that you wanted to go, just said there was a few new exhibits that looked cool. Truthfully, it was so minor that you had almost forgotten that you even brought it up.

But Agatha remembered.

The hurt still sits heavy in your chest, cradled by your ribs next to your heart. You look over at her. Agatha's fidgeting with her rings, wearing an expression that you've never seen her make before. The way that her brows pinch together, the slight downturn of her lips, the way her eyes flick frantically over your face like she's trying to figure out what's going through your head.

Agatha is scared.

It breaks you. Any hesitance at taking her peace offering flies out the window as soon as you see that look in her eyes that she would die before she admitted how desperate it is. You take a deep breath and steady your voice.

"Yeah. I'd like that."

This has to be a set up. There's just zero chance that the universe hates Agatha enough for this to be a coincidence.

The banner above the temporary museum exhibition outwardly mocks her, the words a threat and the dim purple lighting emitting from the room highlighting her face like she's at an interrogation table.

"DOWN THE WITCHES ROAD: A JOURNEY THROUGH THE HISTORY OF WITCHCRAFT"

Agatha closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. You're busy chatting with the man at the front desk, where you're supposed to be buying tickets, but have clearly gotten preoccupied. A million thoughts run through Agatha's mind. Was this some sort of test? Did you suspect something, and now you were trying to coax the truth out of her? Have you brought her here so that you can have a dramatic "gotcha!" moment and then break up with her in front of the black and white photographs of Salem?

God, she hopes she doesn't get broken up with in any proximity to Salem. That's where her mother is.

"Ready, babe?" You walk back over to her, looping your arm in hers.

"Yeah. So, which exhibit was it that you thought looked cool?" Agatha asks, keeping her tone intentionally relaxed.

"Honestly, I didn't look at what was going to be here that closely," You shrug. "I knew they added some things since I was here last, and they change out their temporary one monthly. I didn't check what it was though. I figure maybe we can go to the new contemporary art wing and then circle back here to check out the witchcraft exhibit before lunch? Oh! And the gift shop, of course."

Okay, great. No conspiracies. This is just karma, and the universe hates her more than she previously thought. Which is saying something.

The beginning of the date goes fine, but Agatha is sure that you can feel the way that she's not fully relaxed. She's hoping that you chalk it up to left over awkwardness from the fight the other day. The one which neither of you have dared to address. Agatha suspects that you're worried that addressing the elephant in the room would make things worse than just making peace and moving on. And she's certainly not eager to try to explain away her little outburst.

Over the last couple of days, Agatha imagined about twenty different ways that conversation could have gone. The best option she's come up with is, "The real reason that you can't come over to my house is because I have a rabbit. I lied to you about him being a cat. Oh, why did I lie about that? Because if you saw him you'd immediately recognize him from that little Etsy listing that you stumbled upon. But hey! Now that the rabbit's out of the bag, you can come over!"

Really, not ideal. But, as much as Agatha hated to admit it, Wanda was probably right that the truth had to come out at some point. It was either that, never let you come over to her apartment, or get rid of Scratchy. The not visiting part is clearly a new point of contention, and she'd never even entertain the idea of giving Scratchy away.

Though, she did consider if dyeing his fur would be a viable option.

Agatha holds your hand as you lead her to different art pieces. You take time to read every tag, noting to her every one that you really like. Even the ones you don't like, you seem to find something nice to say about them. Agatha, of course, has something snarky to say about most of them. But she tries to let you react first, so she doesn't shit on one that you happen to enjoy.

Finally, you reach the end of the art exhibit, and loop back to the entrance to the temporary exhibit wing.

"You wanna sit for a second, or you good to keep going?" You ask Agatha innocently. Agatha gives you a small smile and tells you she's fine. Internally, she's bracing for impact.

Agatha's always had good instincts. She's always a few steps ahead of everyone around her. It's what makes her so savvy. She's never once thought that it was a bad thing. Until now, because her stomach is churning with anxiety that she's not used to because she knows what's coming.

It's a shame that Agatha can only concentrate on the discussion lurking around the corner rather than the museum. Any other day, she'd be eating all of this information up. Maybe she'll try to come back before the exhibit leaves and explore it properly. If it doesn't give her PTSD after today.

She can already tell by the look on your face as you read the displays that something is on your mind. There's a question hanging in your head, the string so thin that it's about to snap without any pressure.

Once she goes down this road, there's no going back.

The other shoe doesn't drop until you stop in front of a particular glass display case. It's full of crystals of all shapes and sizes. Behind them, there's a chart explaining all different types of metaphysical properties that each kind has. Emeralds, amethysts, jade, and more shine under the warm light of the case.

Your face scrunches up in concentration as you read. Agatha's stomach does a somersault.

"Do you believe in any of this type of thing?" You ask, glancing at her.

Yeah, my crystals are actually like, way bigger than these. Not that size matters. Instead of saying her very funny joke, Agatha shrugs noncommittally. Smooth.

A beat. You chew on your lip thoughtfully. Agatha's stomach is now competing for gold in gymnastics.

"Can I tell you something?"

The words set off her fight or flight instincts. But even though she's great at doing both of those things, has spent her whole life doing them, all she can do in this moment is freeze.

"Before we started talking, I honestly had almost given up on dating." You turn away from her slightly as you continue, too embarrassed to make eye contact. "I couldn't find many social things that suited me, and dating apps are a fucking nightmare. So, one day, I impulse bought one of those manifestation spells on Etsy."

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

"And that same night, you messaged me." You squeeze her hand. Agatha's breath catches, and she finally dares to look at you. Your eyes are shiny in the light, and she's praying it's just the light and not fucking tears. If you're getting emotional already, the rest of this conversation is not going to be fun. "So, I think I believe in it. Because I really don't know why you ever would've messaged me if it wasn't because of some sort of shift in the universe."

Agatha swallows hard. You sincerely believe that the two of you meeting was magic. It would be so easy to just keep up the lie from here.

But she can't. Not now.

It's not the nagging voice in her head that sounds an awful lot like Wanda that finally pushes Agatha to speak, but it's the thought of having you believe that it was some outside power that drew Agatha to you. As if you were undesirable otherwise. As if Agatha didn't want you from the very second she saw you. She's going to break down this false reality even if it hurts her, because she simply can't let you think that magic is the only reason Agatha is with you.

"Funny story, actually," Agatha begins, feigning a casual tone. "I actually knew about that."

"…What?" Your face falls a little. But you don't look totally shocked. Like maybe the thought had crossed your mind. Your grip tightens around hers.

"Basically, you fell for one of my side gigs. I learned about witchcraft in high school and started practicing some stuff as a hobby. I started doing things like spells and tarot readings for friends. I didn't hop on the Etsy witch train until after I broke up with my ex. Needed money, so I figured why not? Turns out, you stumbled upon my page. I take the liberty of researching my customers, because I don't always actually perform the spells. Wasted effort on people who probably don't deserve it."

All of this spills out of her, and now that the floodgates are open, she can't stop. You open your mouth to say something, and she just keeps going. It has to all be laid out right here, right now.

"Not that I think you didn't deserve it, even though your message was kind of pathetic. I just didn't think you needed it. What you needed was a confidence boost. But, anyway. I found your profile and thought you were pretty cute. So I messaged you. You know how the rest went. Oh, also, Scratchy isn't a cat. He's my rabbit. The one from the listing photo. That's why I haven't let you come over."

You shake your head, overwhelmed with information. You drop her hand, running yours through your hair. Brows pinch together as Agatha watches you try to put all of this in context to your relationship.

"Pathetic?" You ask indignantly. Agatha holds her hand up and makes a pinching motion with her pointer and thumb to say a little bit. "Okay, well, maybe. But wait. So, not only have you hidden this from me, but the spell wasn't even real?"

"Nope. All I did was burn the candle so the set up looked real. Got high and scrolled through your videos while I waited for it to melt." Agatha remembers how she masturbated to the thought of you. It feels too revealing to say. Too obsessive. Too raw. So, instead, she turns it on you. "Honestly, I'm surprised that you didn't realize sooner. But maybe you're just so obsessed with me that you intentionally misread all the signs."

As soon as the words leave her mouth, Agatha realizes the route she's taken. She's pushing you away, and she can't stop now that she's started. The train can't just steer off the tracks. You simply stare at her, struggling to form words in the face of the realization that Agatha had been keeping this secret and is framing it like you were the fool for ever trusting her.

"I'm assuming you don't want to get lunch now," Agatha sighs, as if this situation is a minor inconvenience and not her twisting the knife into the one piece of true happiness she has. "Do you want me to do the hard part here so you don't have to?"

"Agatha…" Your voice cracks.

No. Agatha isn't going to break things here. Not officially. She can't bring herself to say those words. But she'll be damned if she gives you the opportunity to.

"I suppose I should give you some time to think about it. See if you come running back to me."

Agatha leans in to give you a quick kiss on the cheek, turns on her heel, and walks away, leaving you still stunned in the middle of the exhibit room. Her boot steps echo through the museum, the tall ceilings and tile floors making them sound deafeningly loud with how heavy her steps fall.

Agatha doesn't look back at you. She can't. She just has to cling to the hope that you'll follow.