#sub!agatha

Agatha was a woman you met very randomly when she almost fell asleep standing in a line of a grocery store. 

You caught her before she could fall down and you saw the exhaustion on her face, the dark shadows under her soft blue eyes and in that moment she took your breath away. You offered to give her a ride home and on the way she confessed she’s been working three jobs. Her mother had written her off her will and Agatha spent all the money she had trying to save her baby boy who unfortunately died anyway. A brain tumor. 

Your heart kept breaking for the woman. Money never posed any issue to you, you had your own company, so you couldn’t imagine what she was going through. 

After you dropped her off at a very shady building, you asked her where you could find her. She mumbled a name of a very sleazy bar down the street and you shuddered internally, imagining this petite beautiful woman amongst the drunks. 

You made sure to visit her often, always leaving a big tip, which you knew she wanted to refuse, but the look in your eyes made her accept it every single time. 

One day you saw her boss harassing her in the back room and you had enough, especially after she confessed she got evicted from her apartment. 

“Please, stay with me, I have a guest room, you can have your own space there.”

Agatha, tears streaming down her face, a bruise left by a touchy man from the previous evening shining on her cheek, quietly nodded. 

So now Agatha was living in your guest room, you felt better that she was close to you and you could keep her safe. She insisted on going back to work, but you managed to convince her to drop the bar job. She reluctantly admitted that it had been hard to keep the men off her lately. 

You gave her Peter, your driver, to take her to the other two jobs, you always had a fridge full of groceries so she’d never have to buy anything, you wanted to give her the world. 

One evening when Agatha woke up from her nap you brought a bottle of wine to drink. She joined you and soon you were both laughing and drinking on the couch, talking about some reality show you were watching days before. 

“Y/N, thank you so much,” Agatha suddenly whispered and your breath was taken away by how beautiful she looked in the flickering light of the candles around. “I don’t know what I’d do without you. I will get better soon and find my own place, I promise.”

You brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear tenderly. “I like that you’re here with me. You don’t have to move anywhere.”

Her eyes flickered to your lips and you waited. You wanted this to be her decision. Soon enough she closed the distance and kissed you softly, her breath tasting like wine and Agatha. 

You entangled your fingers in her hair and deepened the kiss. 

The next day you pulled some strings and Agatha was fired from her second job. You felt bad for doing it, but you wanted her to be safe, in your house. 

She was sad, almost panicking, but you drew her a bath and offered to wash her hair, enjoying her soft moans while your fingers were brushing her scalp firmly. 

Later you told her that she doesn’t need to find another job, if she really wanted to do something, she could sometimes cook at the house. 

So a few days later you came back, exhausted from work, only to find Agatha in an apron working around the kitchen. You stopped breathing and it took every ounce of will power not to go touch her. 

“Hi!” she welcomed you with a smile. “Please sit, I have made you a meal.” 

You sat, unable to speak, and watch her pour you a glass of wine and prepare a plate for you to eat. 

She fixed herself a plate, too, and sat beside you. The meal was delicious, but your mind was elsewhere. You know that the housewife fantasy was the dumbest thing ever, but something about Agatha waiting for you at home with dinner ready, wearing a fucking apron lit a fire in your lower belly. 

“It was delicious, Agatha,” you said, wiping your mouth on the napkin. “Let me help you with the dishes.”

“No, no, you go sit and relax, I’ll take care of it,” she pushed you towards the couch. 

And that became a habit, you coming home from work, Agatha already waiting for you with a smile on her face and prepared dinner. 

You never spoke about the kiss, you were worried she’d get scared. 

But one evening you came home especially annoyed, dealing with stupid people the whole day, so when you saw Agatha in the kitchen, wearing a knee length skirt, a tank top and an apron, you were done pretending there was nothing happening between you. The weeks of soft glances, light touches, the way she was taking care of you and you were taking care of her… it all became too much. 

You sneaked up behind her and laid your hands on her waist and your chin on her shoulder. 

“Ah,” she startled. “I didn’t hear you come home. How was work?” She didn’t seem phased by your proximity but you could see a blush forming on her cheeks. 

“Horrible, people are stupid, men even more,” you grumbled into her neck. “I’m so glad to be home.” 

She slowly turned in your arms. “Do you need something from me? Please, let me help…”

You were confused, but Agatha suddenly started pampering your face in gentle kisses and your grip on her hips tightened. “Agatha…” 

“You take such good care of me,” she whispered, kissing your neck. “Please let me take care of you.” 

You nearly exploded and pulled away, hating the see the fear of rejection in her eyes. You grabbed her hand and led her to the living room. 

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to do anything,” you said, sitting down. 

She shook her head and remained standing. “I don’t feel like that. I just want to make you feel good. So whatever pissed you off today, please take it out on me.”

You swallowed loudly and then tugged her hand. She slowly lowered herself on your lap.

You put your hand on her thigh, drawing circles on her exposed skin. “You are the best thing that ever happened to me, Agatha,” you said before the exhaustion and anger of the day took over and you pushed her in the to pillow below. Now she was lying on the couch, each leg on one side of you, looking up at you with wide eyes, full of anticipation. 

“Do you even know what you do to me?” you asked, positioning yourself into a sitting position between her legs. Your hand caressed her cheek, moving down to grab her breast, brushing her nipple over the material of her tank top. “Your eyes… I could drown in them. Your smile when I come home is the best thing of my day. And the apron… I want to make you mine every time you’re wearing the damn apron.” 

“Then do it,” Agatha whimpered. 

You growled at that and put your weight on her body, kissing her senselessly, while your hand disappeared below her skirt, fingers gently pressing against her already soaked panties. “Oh fuck,” you breathed out against her mouth. “How long have you been this wet?”

“Since you came home,” Agatha admitted and moaned when your fingers dipped below the fabric. You slowly encircled her entrance before dipping your finger deep into her, swallowing her load moan with another kiss. 

You added another finger and started fucking her, enjoying the way her hips kept thrusting to meet you, the way her breath kept quickening and the way she kept whimpering. 

The next day, Agatha was fired from her last job, and to make her day better you took her shopping. She chose some nice dresses and skirts to wear at home when she tugged your hand to the underwear section. 

She chose some unholy lingerie and called you to the dressing room to check her out. 

Soon you were pressing her up against the wall, two fingers deep, clamping your hand against her mouth the quiet the sounds she was making. 

On the weekend you woke up to her bringing you breakfast to bed, wearing only the apron. The breakfast was scattered on the floor when you made her ride your fingers. Later she ate you out beneath the sheets. 

There was an annual party happening at your firm and Agatha was of course your plus one. She was mesmerising, but during the night you lost her only to find her chatting with one of your subordinates. When he put his hand on her arm, you saw red and dragged her out of there. 

The drive home was a quiet one and when you arrived, you pushed her up against the door. 

“We were just talking, I swear,” she said. But you were already hiking up her dress, slipping your fingers between her folds. 

“You are mine,” you growled, fucking her slowly. You had drunk way too much and you felt so angry for someone touching what belonged to you. 

“I am,” she moaned. “I am yours.”

You withdrew your fingers before she could come and dragged her to the bathroom, taking a strap on out of your drawer. 

“Get on your hands and knees,” you barked and she quickly obeyed. You pushed your cock into her without warning and grabbed her hips to steady yourself. “This little body is mine, do you hear me?”

“Yess,” Agatha screamed as you kept ramming into her. “I’m only yours, I belong to you.” 

You almost came just from those words alone. 

“Come,” you ordered when you pulled out of her. “Clean your mess.” And you watched her move on her knees to the edge of the bed, catching your cum soaked cock between her lips. 

You grabbed a fistful of her hair and made her head bob up and down. “See, this is what you’re supposed to do, be pretty and obedient, isn’t that right?” 

Agatha looked up at you with hooded teary eyes and managed to nod. You pushed her deep onto your cock making her choke. 

The next morning you felt horrible, you didn’t mean to degrade her like that, but Agatha wasn’t accepting any apologies. She smiled at you and said she liked how possessive you were. 

You decided to explore her kinks and occasionally called her a good girl. The way her eyes sparkled and her cheeks burned gave you all the answers you needed. 

After an exceptionally good sex, you were lying naked in your bed, Agatha’s head on your lap. You were softly tracing the curve of her nose, of her lips. “You were so good, such a pretty girl for me,” you whispered and you could hear her breath catch. 

“Do you like that?” you asked, your finger now circling her nipple. “When I call you a good girl?”

“Y-yes,” Agatha nodded. “I like it. I also like when you take control.”

“Hmm, interesting,” you hummed. 

“I’ve spent a lifetime taking care of myself and terribly failing, this feels like a heaven to me,” she confessed, her cheeks bright red. 

You chuckled and sipped on the wine on your night table. Then you brought the bottle to her lips and spilled some on her face and her chest making her squeal.

You moved down to lick the wine off her. “So delicious,” you murmured. “You don’t need to do anything ever again, pretty girl. You’re mine and I’m yours.”

Agatha’s eyes glistened with tears at your words and you kissed her on the lips. Then you rose up and climbed on top of her, pinning her arms above her head. 

“So are you gonna be good now and do what I say?” you whispered against her lips and feel her nod. 

“Use your words, baby.”

“Yes.”

You grab her leg and moved it to the side before planting your cunt directly on hers. Her hips buckled. 

“No moving, lay still and let me use you.” You started moving on her, moaning as your sticky centres brushed against one another. “You feel so good, Agatha.”

Agatha was whimpering, her arms still above her head, watching you, mesmerised. You could see her gripping the sheet and knew she was having a hard time lying still. 

When you came with her name on her lips, you dipped her fingers into her pussy, dragging the wetness to her mouth. She opened her mouth and welcomed your fingers. 

“Such a pretty girl,” you whispered again. “You don’t need anything else in life, right? You just need me.” You burrowed your fingers deeper, making her gag. “There doesn’t have to be any thought or control in your head. I will take care of everything.”

When you laid down next to her later, Agatha draped her body over yours, holding you tightly as if she was scared you were going to leave. 

Your life with Agatha was everything you had ever wanted. Agatha didn’t need to tire herself out working many jobs or fighting off sleazy men, she was happy waiting for you at home. 

And you drowned her with luxury, gifts and care. 

Leaves crunching in a steady pattern give away footsteps. 

“Agatha~” Rio sings out again, a dark edge to her voice Agatha hasn’t heard in a long time. A warning that she’s toeing the line, and not one of the fun ones they like to draw for each other.

Two steps closer and Agatha can see the edge of Rio’s silhouette. Her hand twitches but she doesn’t take the bait. They’ve been playing this game long enough for her to know better. 

Her restraint doesn’t matter. Rio already knows where she is. Shrubs grab at her and propel her into Death’s waiting arms.

“Got you,” Rio says with a cheeky grin before slamming her against a tree. Agatha tries to grapple with her but her breath has been forced out of her. Rio has her pinned within a second. “Someone’s been naughty,” she says.

“Can a girl not spend a night curing her loneliness?” 

“You know the rules. That is not how you get my attention.” Rio’s pulls her knife out and pokes into the soft flesh under Agatha’s chin.

“You’re here now, aren’t you?” Agatha says.

“Don’t tell me you’re being the jealous one, Agatha. You can summon me whenever you like,” Rio says as she trails the knife down Agatha’s throat.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but the area’s a little bare of witches at the moment.”

“And yet you still managed to find one to bed,” Rio’s smile edges more towards a snarl.

“A green one too,” Agatha smiles as Rio’s snarl stretches further. “I knew that would get under your skin.”

“Oh, Agatha,” Rio knife digs in, “We both know the only thing under my skin is you.”

“Prove it,” Agatha snarls back. She goes for the knife but Rio digs it in deeper.

“Careful, sweetheart, you know what happens when my claws come out,” she slides her knife lightly along Agatha’s neck. Just enough to make a thin, red cut.

“They’re not out already?” Agatha asks. “Was me fucking another woman not enough?” 

Rio growls and throws Agatha to the ground face first. Agatha doesn’t get a chance to push herself back up. Rio jumps on top of her and she narrowly avoids slamming her chin into the ground. She expects at least a few more verbal jabs but Rio’s been pushed past her limit. She forces herself between Agatha’s legs, keeping her down with a hand pressing her head into the dirt, and tears off Agatha’s pants. Half a second later and she’s forcing three fingers into Agatha’s soaked cunt. They moan together.

It only takes three harsh thrusts for Agatha to stop being disappointed that the game is over so quickly. She pushes back onto Rio’s fingers and Rio’s grip tightens in her hair.

“If you’re so desperate then come,” she demands with a snarl. 

They’ve only just started yet Rio curls her fingers and Agatha finds herself right on the edge. Rio leans down and sinks her sharp teeth into the vulnerable skin on her neck and Agatha comes with a muffled scream.

Rio removes her teeth and laughs against Agatha’s skin.

“She must’ve been bad if that’s all it took,” she says.

“Who?” Agatha murmurs through her post-orgasm haze. Rio laughs again. She ignores Agatha’s whine as she gently pulls out and turns her over. She settles on Agatha’s hips.

“Who owns you, Agatha?” she murmurs as she runs her wet fingers down Agatha’s throat, enjoying the way Agatha basks in the attention. One corner of Agatha’s mouth twitches up.

“That witch,” she says. Rio’s fingers close around her throat. She doesn’t break eye contact.

“You don’t even remember her name.”

“I never even knew it,” Agatha says with that same teasing smile. 

What should cancel out her previous statement makes it burn hotter by the way she says it. Thorny vines shoot out to wrap around her wrists and ankles.

“I could just leave you here,” Rio threatens.

“You won’t,” Agatha says with such certainty it infuriates Rio. 

Another vine caresses Agatha’s throat before wrapping around it. She’s right. Rio has gone too long without her to leave her so soon. That doesn’t mean she has to satisfy her.

Rio begins grinding down and Agatha watches her with that same lazy smirk.

“Don’t get too cocky, Agatha. I’m going use you to come and then leave you here wanting.”

“Just like that other green witch did?”

Rio gnashes her teeth together. She resists the urge to sink them into Agatha again. Her anger will create too much force and she’ll break something. 

Instead, Rio leans down, never faltering in her rhythm, to breathe the same air as her love. She watches as Agatha drinks in every inch of her expression as she gets closer and closer. That cocky look turns into desire which then turns into pure want as Rio nears the edge. Rio’s eyes flutter close and she leans that little bit closer so her lips brush Agatha’s. Agatha tries to close the gap but the thorns cutting into her skin keep her still. Rio moans into her mouth.

A needy sound leaving her has Agatha squirming but it’s too late. Rio shudders on top of her and comes before Agatha gets a chance to fully enjoy it.

The desperate eyes that greet Rio are almost as sweet as her orgasm. She gently runs her fingers over Agatha’s cheek before gripping her face tightly.

“Don’t ever do that again,” she growls, her eyes creeping towards their other-worldly purple glow. 

Or what? Agatha wants to say but Rio’s grip is too tight. The challenge is still clear on her face and Rio’s nails lengthen to dig into her skin.

“You are mine, Agatha Harkness,” Rio hisses. “I can make you wish you were dead as much as I can make you feel alive.”

There’s a much darker note under Rio’s voice than Agatha is used to. Her challenging look turns wary. She doubts this game will ever stop being fun but that doesn’t mean nastier moments can’t sneak through. She doesn’t want Rio to doubt her devotion. That would be more dangerous than anything she’s attempted before.

“I claim you, Rio Vidal, Death, The First Green Witch,” Agatha declares. Rio’s eyes widen a fraction. “You are mine as I am yours, until the end of time.”

The words carry a hint of magic and Rio’s snarl slides off her face. 

“I am yours as you are mine,” Rio breathes with the same amount of devotion. A hint of desperation hidden by Rio sealing the vow with a kiss. Soft at first but quickly devolving into their usual hunger. 

Rio removes the vine keeping Agatha’s neck pinned, so she doesn’t have to break the kiss as she rises slightly on her knees and slips her fingers back inside of Agatha. Agatha moans into her mouth and Rio swallows it eagerly. She wants to devour her, merge their bodies and bind their souls as one. For now she settles for chasing Agatha across the continent and pulling every lick of pleasure she can from her.

Agatha’s magic snaps the rest of vines holding her down, thorns slicing her as she reaches for Rio. Her hands find the back of Rio’s neck and the bodice of her dress. Rio’s less punishing thrusts allow her room to guide the kiss. Her hand moves from Rio’s bodice to the skirts of her dress and tugs them up until she can get it under. She gives Rio the same treatment she’s receiving and slips three fingers into her heat, quickly matching her rhythm. Fingers curl, thumbs find clits, teeth scrape over skin and tongues dips into mouths. They become one moaning, writhing mess as they both reach their peaks before collapsing into each other.

Panting slightly, Agatha gently moves hair out of Rio’s face. She’s wearing that look that means she wants to consume Agatha but her eyes are flashing violet in the way that means too many bodies are calling. The strain of ignoring it is apparent on her face.

“Go do your job, Death,” Agatha releases her. “But don’t be so long this time, hmm?” 

“You won’t leave the next one alive,” Rio says firmly.

“There are other ways to torture you, my love,” Agatha says softly, like it’s a sweet promise. Rio’s eyes flash a deeper purple, no death magic lightening them. 

“I shall return soon,” she promises. 

Soon to death can be very different to life but Agatha accepts the promise with a kiss.

“Te veo,” Rio whispers against her lips before getting up and fading back into the dark. 

Rio shakes her head. "You'd do anything to get a taste." Her knee presses harder into Agatha's clit. "Big bad vampire on her knees for me."

"Fuck, Rio."

"Would you do anything for me?"

"Anything," Agatha breathes.

"Well then—." A phone buzzes and they freeze. "Uber's here," Rio chirps. She gets off the couch and grabs her bag, and Agatha can only stare slack jawed as she walks away, like they weren't just rutting like teenagers on the couch.

"Hurry up," Rio tosses a teasing smile. "Don't want to be late."

"Yeah, yeah," Agatha grumbles. She winces as she stands, finishing her drink and leaving the empty bottle on the table. 

Her pants are sticky.

~~~

"Chicken tenders?" Agatha raises an eye at the large basket that sat in the middle of the table. "What are you five?"

Rio sticks out her tongue and grabs the drinks from Agatha's hands. "Sorry that not all of us can survive on alcohol and cigarettes."

Agatha flashes her fangs. "Tonight I'm surviving off of the alcoholic blood of virgins tonight." 

A chorus of jeers and a french fry are thrown her way. "Oh my god that's disgusting." "You suck." "I can't believe you're such a fucking loser."

"You didn't even dress up," Jen says. She takes a sip of her drink, some fruity cocktail that Agatha knows from experience contains more alcohol than juice, and waves a hand at Agatha's costume. "You're wearing your normal clothes."

"And my normal clothes make me an incredibly hot vampire," Agatha brags. "You're just jealous because you're stuck going home with miss terminator over here." She jerks her thumb over at Alice who grins and pulls Jen onto her lap. "And why am I getting singled out for not trying. She's literally wearing her police uniform."

"Hey first of all, I'm T-1000. And second, don't discount my bullet holes. I worked hard on those." Alice fingers the crumpled foil she pinned to the front of her uniform. "And please. We all know you're going to go home with Rio anyways."

"You two should just grow up and start dating each other."It's the same conversation, same song and dance that always comes up when their schedules manage to align. Agatha knows what to say, what she should say, but for some reason her brain short circuits. "I– I don't.. We're not–," she stutters. 

"We're just friends." Rio cuts her off. 

She looks over at Rio. There's a slight frown on her face as she picks at her food dipping fries halfheartedly in mustard. Agatha opens her mouth to say something, anything, but the moment passes and the conversation moves on.  

~~~

Agatha doesn't quite recall how she got onto the dance floor. Hours had passed. The bar had turned into a club and the party was in full swing. Lights pulsed, sweaty bodies pressed in around her, and the bass from the music reverberated through her bones. 

The songs playing were older. She remembered them from her time she'd spent at clubs when she was younger. Recession pop they call it now. She's got a drink in her hand, Jen's probably, on the account of it tasting like straight vodka. 

She's got a girl in front of her. She's pretty, from what she can tell. The girl has short brown hair and is wearing an even shorter mini skirt. Agatha holds on to her hip as they dance. She thinks that if she plays her cards right she could probably go home with this girl. She presses up against the other woman, formulating a plan. She's got a couple of foolproof pickup lines in her repertoire. 

She leans forward to say something when the collar of her shirt grows tight. An embarrassingly high squeak comes from her mouth before her back collides with a body and an arm wraps around her chest. 

The girl she was dancing with turns around, anger sparking in her eyes. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" she shouts. Her eyes are focused above Agatha's head.

"I could ask you the same thing."

Agatha looks up and has to suppress a smile. Rio is not happy. Her brow is pinched and her lips are pursed and she stares the woman down. Agatha sinks into Rio's hold.

"Find your own girl to dance with." She reaches out and her fingers brush Agatha's sleeve, but Rio steps back.

She tightens her hold. "You should leave."

The woman falters before shifting to address Agatha. "Are you really going to let her do this?" 

Agatha shrugs, a guilty look on her face. She would.

"What a bitch," Rio mutters when she walks away.

"Ya know," Agatha says, maneuvering them so that she's the one behind Rio. "You could've just asked."

"I know."

~~~

Agatha holds Rio close. It's taking all of her effort not to as the other grinds against her. Instead she sways to the beat letting the music do what her buzzed mind can't. 

Sweat is glistening on both their bodies, and Agatha rests her chin on Rio's shoulder. "Would you let me?" she whispers. "If I were actually a vampire." 

Rio leans back. "Let you do what?"

"Bite you." Agatha grazes Rio's neck with her teeth, tasting the salt on her skin. A quiet whimper falls from Rio's mouth. Her hand snakes around Rio's waist and she pulls her close. "I bet you'd taste really good."

Agatha thrusts her hips into Rio to make a point, and she wishes, not for the first time, that she had worn her packer tonight. She rolls her palm into Rio, pressing the fabric of her dress in between her legs. Rio would feel it, she's sure, if she positioned it right. And she'd feel it too. Feel how it would rub against her clit when Rio grinds back on it.

Rio grabs her arm, nails digging into the skin. "Stop."

Agatha freezes. A rush of heat floods through her body and she realizes she was practically dry humping Rio in the middle of the dance floor. Not practically. She was.

"Fuck. Rio I'm sorry. I–." She stumbles as Rio pulls her away.

"Let's go." 

 ~~~

They bypass their original booth and end up in a corner at the back of the bar. The lights are broken, some flickering, others off entirely. It's the publicly known, but also publicly ignored section of the bar.

 Rio slides in a miraculously empty booth. Agatha makes to go in after but is stopped by Rio's hand pressing into her chest. She raises an eyebrow questioningly.

Rio points at the floor. "Down."

Agatha glances around. It doesn't look like anyone is paying attention to them, but still. She's no stranger to kinky stuff, and her and Rio have had their fair share of risky trysts over the years, but this wasn't a bathroom stall or river by the woods. This was public.

Rio steps up and pulls her into a kiss, and Agatha melts into it. It's  sloppy. It's their first kiss all night. They're both drunk, and horny and Agatha had never been the neatest kisser to begin with. Rio breaks their kiss, and Agatha chases, nipping at her skin, trying to get more.

She feels Rio's hands thread through her hair, holding her back. Rio stares at her, and Agatha knows that her want and desperation is probably written all over her face. But Rio's isn't unaffected either. Rio's face is flushed, lips plump, and her eyes are full of desire as she looks down at her. "You'll be under the table. No one will see." Rio whispers against her mouth. "You wanted to taste me right?"

Agatha nods numbly.

"Then be a good girl and go down."

Rio reaches out and places her hand on Agatha's shoulder, and she sinks to her knees. The floor isn't clean. Dirt, crumbs, and spilled alcohol litter the ground, but she ignores it, eyes focused only on Rio. She crawls forward, as Rio backs into the booth, and she keeps crawling until she's fully under the table.

Agatha crawls until she's right in front of Rio, and then she sits, resting her head on the other woman's thigh. She'd be fired, or at least written up, if anyone caught her like this, and that thought alone is enough to make her realize the risk of the situation, but before she can do anything a hand shoots out and grabs her hair.

Rio spreads her legs, hiking her dress up. She tugs on Agatha's hair, and Agatha moans, eyes fluttering as Rio guides her head up and closer to her goal. Rio is turned on. She can already tell. The musky scent of Rio's arousal invades her senses and Agatha surges forward nuzzling at the thin barrier of fabric that separates her from Rio.

Agatha mouths at Rio's cunt drawing a moan from the other woman. She can taste the salt and sweat from Rio's skin mixed in with the slight tang of Rio's slick. She presses in further, nose rubbing against Rio's clit.  

Rio moans. It's loud, louder than the music playing in the club and Agatha's cunt clenches at the sound. It's not enough. She wants… no she needs more. She reaches up, nails scratching against Rio's thighs but Rio slaps them away. "No hands."

Agatha places her hands on either side of Rio and grabs the edge of Rio's underwear with her teeth. They're soaked, a lot from Rio's arousal, but Agatha knows that most is from her own spit.

Rio lifts her hips. "Take them off."

Agatha pulls. She drags them over Rio's thighs and down her legs until they drop and pool at her ankles. She licks a line up Rio's leg, chasing the taste of her juices until she arrives at the source. 

Her mouth waters. Normally she'd wait, take her time to fully admire and appreciate the body before her, but she's impatient. She dives back in tongue immediately sinking into Rio's pussy. She laps like a dog starved, gathering up all Rio's accumulated arousal on her tongue. 

"How do I taste baby?" Rio pants. Agatha moans and digs in with more fervor. 

She tastes like heaven. 

Agatha continues to lick, dipping her tongue into the other woman. Rio's moans are soft, barely audible over the music, but her hips buck and with each pass of her tongue more wetness spills out. 

Agatha can feel herself getting wet, and she resists the urge to reach down and touch herself. Instead she focuses her attention upward. She takes Rio's clit in her mouth and sucks. 

Rio's nails scratch her scalp, and Agatha knows that Rio's close. She redoubles her efforts alternating between sucking her clit and tonguing her cunt until finally Rio comes with a shout. Agatha tries to push away, because there is no way nobody heard that but Rio holds her close. She grinds her hips into Agatha's face, slick gushing out with each hump as she rides out her orgasm. "You're mine," she grunts. "You understand?" 

Agatha nods as much as she's able to.

She's hers. 

~~~

"Oh there you are."

Agatha stiffens. Alice. She tries to get up but a hand on her head shoves her back down.

"Where's Agatha?"

She never did actually move after getting Rio off, even though she was desperately horny herself. She stayed on the floor, face sticky with Rio's juices, leaning against her leg. Rio herself had been content to sit there, hand absentmindedly stroking her hair.

"Don't know," Rio says. The grip on her hair tightens. A warning. "Think she went out back for a smoke."

"Oh." She moves closer, and Agatha can see her boots come into view. 

"You want to sit down?" Rio asks. Agatha eyes the area warily. The booth isn't large, and while it may fit Alice if she decides to sit down, there isn't enough space under the table if Jen decides to join. 

She tries to move, push herself close to the wall, but Rio holds on tight. Agatha grabs onto her arm and works at prying her fingers off, cuz fuck her if she gets caught like this.

"I'm pretty sure our other table has already been claimed." She shifts and Agatha freezes. Rio's foot presses into her cunt, and she moves it slowly.

"Nah Jen and I were gonna head out. Figured I let you know."

"Where is Jen?" Rio asks. Her foot moves in the same circular motion, providing steady pressure. Agatha bites her lip, trying to suppress the whine coming out of her throat.

"Bathroom," Alice leans against the table. "Or the bar. She said two drinks ago she was done for the night."

Agatha drops her head down and clutches Rio's leg. Her hips are moving now, pressing her core on the top of Rio's foot. She wants to stop, she should stop, but she can't. The conversation continues on above her, Rio and Alice talking about something. She doesn't care.

A tendril of guilt curls in her chest with each rush of slick that spills into her underwear. She's on the floor of a seedy bar rutting like a dog onto her friend's shoe after eating her out. It's fucking embarrassing, demeaning, and yet…

It comes as a surprise. Her hips stutter, and she bites, her fake canines pinching into Rio's leg. The pain in her head is sharp as Rio yanks her up by her hair.

A face comes into view. "Did you just fucking come?"

Agatha flushes and pushes away, falling back when Rio lets go of her hair. "Fuck off." It sounds much less dignified when her hips are still rocking, riding out the rest of her orgasm.

Rio laughs. "I barely even touched you."

"I said shut up," she growls. She crawls out from under the table. She pulls at her crotch, wincing at the feeling of the wet fabric. She jumps and swats at Rio's hand as the other reaches out to feel.

"Holy shit you're soaked." Rio says, then with a grin. "Did that turn you on that much?"

"No." Yes. She's not going to think about it.

"Which part?" Rio hums. "Was it rutting against my foot like a puppy in heat or the fact Alice was right there and could find you anytime."

Agatha clenches the hem of her shirt. "None of it."

The Start of New Beginnings

Scarlet wisps flowed smoothly around the room, Wanda’s fingers barely moving as she silently controlled her magic. Seated on the couch, she commanded her magic to paint the walls a dark red color, the order seeming almost thoughtless as her magic leaped at the instruction. 

Smiling, Wanda let her features morph into a pleased expression, the ease of controlling her magic both exciting and calming her. She can hear Agatha padding around in her study upstairs, the footsteps slow and heavy. Tilting her head, Wanda reluctantly looks back at the laptop in front of her. 

A clean logo sits innocently on the screen, the neutral colors unwavering even as Wanda’s concentration fails, scarlet wisps dissipating as she sighs. 

Who knew that applying for a job would be so fucking difficult.

Honestly, Wanda hadn’t given much thought to her future. She’d fully expected to work for HYDRA with Peitro by her side until they were no longer of use. Besides, it’s hard to plan your future when you’ve been orphaned in the streets of an impoverished country. 

Agatha was the one who introduced the idea of a job, blue eyes kind as she urged Wanda to think about her future. How to make a living, and be an actual citizen. Of course, Wanda had protested, pointing out that Agatha lived by herself in a remote cabin, but the brunette had just cackled and told her that she deserved it after hundreds of years of working her ass off. 

Returning her attention to the screen in front of her, Wanda exports her resume after giving it one final cursory glance. It was good, really good. Agatha had helped her, making it look professional and subtly lying to make Wanda appear more experienced than she was. 

‘Confidence is key, sweet cheeks,’ Was all she’d said, ignoring Wanda’s questions about how she’d somehow acquired all the forged skills written on the resume. 

After a few more grueling minutes, Wanda has her cover letter and resume attached to an email, her cursor hovering over the send button. She hesitates, sitting back slightly as she stares at the screen. 

Waves of self-doubt flood her, the company’s logo mocking her from the site she had pulled up. She felt inadequately prepared, having only attended one event at the company, Agatha’s smooth voice charming anyone within five feet of them. That’s how she’d met the current owner of the business, a formidable-looking woman whose sharp eyes had assessed her quickly. 

The company was well known within the BDSM community, offering a multitude of classes and events for members of the exclusive kink community. Wanda had been impressed at the professionalism of the whole event and somehow had managed to not make a fool of herself in front of the CEO. 

The rest of the night had seemed slightly absurd, time moving quickly as Agatha and she had been given a tour of the building. The woman, Elenor, had turned around abruptly at one point, gray eyes boring into Wanda’s, and uttering a single sentence before turning around and continuing the tour. 

“I want to see your application for my position in my inbox before the end of the week.”

Agatha had thrown her an approving look, and Wanda had simply nodded once, a soft ‘Yes, ma’am,’ leaving her lips. 

That had been two days ago, and now Wanda was stuck in a state of semi-panic and hopefulness as she stared blankly at the screen. Absent-mindedly realizing that Agatha’s pacing had stopped, Wanda blinked as she reached out with her magic. 

The lavender-tinged magic she’d grown used to lingered near the kitchen, and Wanda smiled as she tried something new. Reaching out, she sent a single wisp towards Agatha, commanding her magic to curl around the woman’s wrist and gently lead her towards the couch. 

“Ah, a new trick. Very clever, dear.” Agatha remarked, sipping on her water as she allowed herself to be led towards Wanda. Her blue eyes glanced towards the computer, taking in the unsent email before understanding dawned in them. She moved behind the couch, fingers grazing Wanda’s cheek briefly as she scanned the brief message. 

Hovering over her shoulder, Agatha placed a single hand on Wanda’s sternum, her thumb resting lightly against her throat. Plump lips grazed her ear, Wanda’s breath hitching as Agatha murmured, “If you hit send, I’ll reward you.”

That was all the encouragement Wanda needed, her finger only shaking slightly before clicking the blue send button. She took a deep breath, feeling a wave of nervousness and… relief. 

Chuckling slightly, Wanda marveled at how nervous she’d been. Really, it was a single email. One fucking email, and she’d stressed about it for two days. 

“Good girl,” Agatha murmured, and Wanda felt her panties dampen, blood rushing to her cheeks. “Come with me.”

Wanda didn’t need any additional encouragement, her fingers closing the laptop and reaching for Agatha’s hand within seconds. Strong fingers tangled with her own, pulling her closer until her body hit Agatha’s with a soft thump, lips colliding desperately as Wanda let out a soft groan. 

Making their way towards the bedroom, Señor Scratchy’s eyes following them from the kitchen, Wanda couldn’t help but grind against Agatha. She desperately needed friction, the arousal soaking her panties almost unbearable. 

Then, she felt it. The bulge in Agatha’s slacks, a telltale sign that she was packing. 

Pulling back briefly, Wanda let her hand wander down, fingers squeezing the strap through the silk fabric as Agatha groaned. Her eyes widened, shooting towards Agatha’s. 

The woman’s blue eyes were dark, her pupils dilated as she pulled Wanda’s towards the bed with a sense of urgency. “Yes, I can feel it.” She muttered in between nips and kisses on Wanda’s smooth neck. “It’s a new enchantment I’m trying out.”

Wanda felt a wave of arousal shoot through her. Something about intelligence really got her going, and Agatha was constantly showing her new spells or rune combinations she’d created. Of course, most of their lessons ended with Wanda on her knees, not that she minded. 

Strong hands grabbed the collar of her sweater, pushing backward until Wanda felt the back of her knees hit the mattress. An errant wave of Agatha’s hand slammed the door closed, the woman’s attention focused purely on the redhead seated before her. 

Green eyes locked onto the slight tent in Agatha’s pants, a tongue peeking out and swiping lazily across Wanda’s lips as she felt her thoughts run wild. God, she wanted to pin Agatha down and take the strap so far down her throat. She wanted to hear the brunette moan unabashedly as Wanda forced orgasm after orgasm out of her until the last drops of pleasure were wrangled from her enchanted strap. 

Then, she wanted to tear the toy off of those perfect hips, and absolutely devour the juices that would leak messily from Agatha’s needy pussy. She wanted to…

“Fuck.”

Agatha’s raspy voice tore Wanda from her thoughts. Looking up, she smiled slightly at the sight in front of her. Pupils dilated so severely that only a sliver of dark blue was left, sharp teeth biting desperately into a plump lip, strong thighs clenching together. She looked absolutely perfect. 

“On the bed,” Wanda commanded, keeping her voice soft. 

She’d learned that less is more when being dominant. Some people might like the yelling and sharp words and angry tone, but most submissives yearned for the quiet, strong dominance Wanda offered. 

Almost robotically, Agatha obeyed. The slight tilt of Wanda’s head only encouraged her to move faster, and she discarded her sweater before sitting against the headrest. 

“Did you wear this just for me?” Wanda asked, slowly pulling Agatha’s slacks off. She took the brunette’s slight head nod as an answer, humming briefly in response as her eyes locked on the dark purple strap. 

Agatha wasn’t wearing a harness, but the toy was snug against her, and Wanda practically salivated at the thought of the other end that must’ve been buried inside the woman’s pussy. Her fingers reached out, one hand caressing and pinching Agatha’s nipples, which were rock hard through her bra. The other hand reached down, until Wanda’s fingers were in her underwear, collecting some of the juices that had escaped. 

Blue eyes watched hungrily as Wanda pulled her fingers free, wet strands of arousal threatening to drip from them. They were glistening, and Agatha’s breath caught when that same hand wrapped loosely around the tip of her strap. 

It took everything she had not to thrust her hips feebly into Wanda’s relaxed grip. The scent of Wanda’s juices made Agatha’s head swim, driving her mad. The frictionless movement of those long fingers against her strap, smearing Wanda’s arousal over the silicone made Agatha desperate for more. 

Agatha never begged, but she was about two seconds away from whining. And she couldn’t lose her composure that soon. 

“I want to use your throat until I cum, and then I want to keep fucking you until I’m satisfied,” Agatha practically growled, growing tired of Wanda’s teasing. She took one look at the slow smile spreading across the redhead’s lips before she moved. 

Her hands were tangled with Wanda’s silky strands before she could even think, pulling the woman closer to her strap. Those sparkling green eyes locked with hers, and Agatha felt her arousal grow impossibly stronger. Then, those soft, perfect lips were wrapped around her and moving down and taking her deeper and…

A sultry moan erupted from Agatha, the satisfied sound encouraging Wanda to take her fully. With the strap nestled deep in her throat, Wanda held her head against the woman, breathing in her arousal, before coming up for air. 

Moving her head down again, Wanda sucked the strap sloppily, her tongue wrapping around the tip and swirling teasingly before she bobbed her head down again. The weight of the strap against her tongue sent arousal coursing through her, jolts of electricity making their way straight to her clit with each small rut of Agatha’s hips and every little moan and gasp that escaped from her lips. 

Breathing deeply, Wanda let herself enjoy the slight pain of Agatha’s hand gripping her hair. Every time she moved her head up, the woman would tighten her grip, not wanting to lose a single moment of pleasure. Taking a quick break, Wanda locked eyes with Agatha’s half-lidded ones, resting her chin on the woman’s hip and letting the strap slap lightly against her cheek. 

Agatha let out a low groan at the sight. She was so horny she could barely even think. She needed stimulation, and she needed it now. She could feel her breaths coming out in short bursts, and briefly thought that she should care about how desperate she probably looked, but pushed it aside in favor of flipping Wanda onto her back. 

Wide green eyes peered up at her, Wanda’s surprise at the change in position evident. Her hands wrapped around Agatha’s legs, her hands squeezing her ass as the woman rutted the tip of her strap against Wanda’s lips. 

“Take it,” Agatha muttered, her hand pressing on the back of Wanda’s head as she eased the strap into the redhead’s mouth. “Take it all like a good little slut.”

Wanda moaned around the strap, enthusiastically bobbing her head as Agatha fucked her mouth. She felt her own arousal increasing as the strap moved between her lips quickly. She didn’t care about the spit dripping down her chin and smearing over the strap, all she wanted was to make Agatha cum. 

Fuck, she wanted to be used for Agatha’s pleasure. 

As soon as the thought passed through Wanda’s mind, Agatha felt her orgasm overtake her quickly. She came with practically no warning, the only indicator of her orgasm was the painful tightening of her hand in Wanda’s hair. 

Agatha continued to fuck Wanda’s throat, giving the woman no reprieve as she prolonged the pleasure. She felt another orgasm building, increasing exponentially when she looked down and saw Wanda’s hungry eyes roaming her form. 

The hands on Agatha’s ass squeezed again before a resounding slap sounded throughout the room. Wanda internally smirked at the gasp Agatha let out, moaning when the woman retaliated by shoving the strap as far down her throat as she could manage, holding her there for a few seconds. 

“Don’t be a fucking brat,” Agatha hissed, eyes boring into Wanda’s as her orgasm crept up. She dragged the strap almost fully from the woman’s mouth, allowing her a few seconds to breathe before she slammed it to the back of her throat with no mercy. 

Fucking Wanda’s mouth like it was the last thing she’d ever do, Agatha arched her back, eyes raising to the ceiling. The sound of her strap as Wanda’s tongue slurped around it sent her over the edge once more, her thighs trembling as she rode out her orgasm. 

Reaching out her other hand, Agatha felt her strap pulsate as it was buried in Wanda’s mouth, her breath ragged and muscles seizing. She gripped the headboard, knuckles whitening as she slowly fucked in and out of the wet heat wrapped around her strap. 

Nails dug into Agatha’s ass, and she groaned as the pain caused her arousal to feebly jump. She pushed it down, nerves overstimulated as she moved to pull her strap from Wanda’s mouth. 

Wanda’s eyes flashed scarlet, and before Agatha could properly think, she was flipped over and pushed flush against the mattress. Scarlet wisps held her wrists tightly above her head, another thick tendril of magic pinning her hips down as Wanda eagerly took her whole length in her mouth. 

There was something intoxicating about the way Agatha moaned, the sound high-pitched and bordering on a whimper. Wanda let her hands rest on the woman’s thighs, fingers curling tightly as her short nails dug into the soft skin. 

Taking a moment to breathe, Wanda swirled her tongue around the tip of the strap before dragging her tongue down the length of it, enjoying the raspy groans erupting from those pretty lips. 

Agatha’s hips jolted violently, causing Wanda to choke slightly as she wrapped her lips around the strap. With a firm glance, she commanded Agatha to remain still, before using both her hand and mouth to bring the women to yet another orgasm. 

“Oh… fuck. Wanda stop, I can’t… it’s too much. Wait. Please, I’m gonna, fuck, please. I’m coming… I’m fucking coming. Don’t you dare stop. Don’t fucking stop.”

Endless words streamed from Agatha’s lips, her brain having finally dipped into a comfortable vanilla haze. She knew that Wanda held more magical power than she did, and even the hundreds of years of experience she held had nothing over the raw power the redhead controlled. Given this fact, she knew escape was fruitless. 

All she could do was lay there and take it. 

“That’s right. I’m glad you finally understand your place,” Wanda practically purred, and Agatha was too overstimulated to berate her for reading her mind. She felt her muscles twitch, her pussy leaking around the strap, threatening to let the toy slip out from inside her. 

“Ah ah,” Wanda’s voice was low, her hand firm on the base of the toy, holding it steady. “None of that now. You’re going to take everything I give you, understand?” 

“I-,” Agatha couldn’t do much else but nod, green eyes watching her as she felt her cheeks flush. “Yes.”

“Yes, what?” 

Agatha drew a shaky breath, Wanda’s hand slowly pumping up and down her strap. It was sending her into a delirious haze of pleasure, and she just barely managed to squeak out a ‘Yes, ma’am,’ before Wanda was moving. 

With a flick of her fingers, Wanda’s scarlet magic whisked away their clothes, leaving Agatha’s chest exposed to her nimble fingers. The dripping heat of Wanda’s pussy hovered over her strap, anticipation and want filling Agatha as she watched the redhead straddle her hips. 

“Beg.”

It wasn’t a question. Wanda’s eyebrow rose expectantly, her head tilting slightly as her fingers roughly pinched Agatha’s nipples. 

“Fuck, please.” 

“Please, what? Be more specific, dear.”

Groaning, Agatha threw her head back against the pillows. She sucked in a few deep breaths as Wanda’s fingers pulled and twisted her sensitive nipples before she let her remaining dignity go. 

“I need to feel your pussy around my strap, please. You can use me however you want, make yourself cum all over my cock. Please, Wanda. Just fuck me.”

The words had barely left Agatha’s lips before Wanda was sinking fully down on her strap, their moans sounding out at the same time. The fingers abusing her nipples briefly stopped, Wanda grabbing her breasts and squeezing as she steadied herself. 

“Fuck, you feel so good.” Wanda’s words were slightly breathless, her eyes shining as she began to fuck herself on Agatha’s strap. 

Grinding down, Wanda felt her own orgasm slowly building. The strap slid easily in and out of her pussy, her juices leaking down around the toy and smearing on her inner thighs as she worked herself up. 

Agatha had begun to let out a series of moans, the sounds reverberating around the room and sounding suspiciously like whimpers. Her fingers wrapped around the scarlet tendril restraining her wrists, the power from it sending her head reeling. 

Wanda continued speaking, her accent wrapping around each syllable and pushing Agatha’s orgasm closer to the surface.

“You’re going to make me cum, fuck. You look so good, all tied up beneath me. God, I could do whatever I wanted right now, and you’d just have to lay there and fucking take it.”

With a sudden thrust of her hips, Agatha threw Wanda off balance, the redhead’s upper body colliding on top of hers with a soft thump. The sensation of her breasts against her own sent firefly bolts shooting through her, and Agatha valiantly fought her impending orgasm. 

“Go on,” Wanda challenged, “Get me off like the good little whore you are.”

With a guttural moan, Agatha canted her hips up roughly, Wanda’s soft moans against her ear sending her over the edge. She felt the redhead’s pussy walls clamping down on her strap as they orgasmed together. The sensation of Wanda squeezing around her sent her headfirst into another, smaller orgasm. 

Eventually, Wanda slowed down, lazily grinding against the strap still buried deep inside her. She milked the last remnants of her orgasm, feeling Agatha’s chest heaving against her own. Her fingers slowly massaged the brunette’s chest, nipple taut and hard under her ministrations. 

Agatha whimpered, a whispered ‘yellow’ falling from her lips. 

Pulling back, Wanda moved her hands up to cradle the woman’s face, thumbs gently stroking over her flushed cheeks.

“Too much?” She asked, and hummed softly at Agatha’s weak nod in response. 

“Alright,” Wanda’s voice had a note of finality in it. “I’m going to ride your face then, you still owe me another orgasm.”

Well, Agatha certainly wasn’t going to complain about that.

—

Both Agatha and Wanda were slightly slumped over their morning coffee, exhausted. Wanda was slowly eating a piece of avocado toast, her eyes half closed as Agatha fed Señor Scratchy bits of carrots and cucumbers. 

Wanda’s open laptop sat near them, the screen shining innocently as Agatha pulled her rune book closer to her. She’d instructed Wanda to research a few sites, but judging from the sluggish movements of the redhead across from her, that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. 

Besides, Wanda was far too anxious about the job she’d applied for the day before to get any real work done. 

An email pinged through, and Wanda’s green eyes eagerly scanned it, her form no longer bent over the table sleepily. 

There! An interview time and location, the words swimming before her eyes before Agatha’s touch grounded her. 

“Good job, hon.” Agatha’s voice was proud, her blue eyes warm. Wanda practically beamed at her, jumping up from her seat and rounding the table before wrapping her arms around the woman’s waist. She could hardly believe it, and her chest twisted as she thought about starting a new chapter in her life. 

Wanda didn’t really want to leave Agatha but knew that she had to get back into the world. Training had been a nice break, and so had learning to trust her dominant slash mentor slash… friend?

Almost as if reading Wanda’s mind (oh, wait), Agatha chuckled, turning her around to face the mirror. She played with Wanda’s red strands briefly, before sizing her up and murmuring in her ear, words dripping like honey as blue eyes blazed warmly.

“Time to go shopping for a professional outfit, and maybe a whole new wardrobe.”

—

Wanda walked through a set of glass doors, trying not to stare too hard at her surroundings. She resisted the urge to tug on her new blazer, the beginnings of her new wardrobe still feeling slightly foreign to her. Luckily, Agatha had good taste. 

Her new apartment was a mess, her limited bags strewn all over the place. Even with all the chaos surrounding the rounds of interviews she’d gone through, before finally getting the position under the CEO, Wanda only felt a vague sense of pride. 

Her anxieties had faded the second she’d received the phone call confirming her new position from Elenor herself, lessening even further at the amount of money she’d receive while training to take over the company. Agatha had been proud, a smug smirk on her face as she’d helped Wanda move in, purple and scarlet wisps dancing around each other to efficiently unpack. 

And now here she was, her first day. 

Wanda resisted the urge to smile, instead nodding once at the receptionist before smoothly brushing past her toward the elevator. 

Upon reaching the top floor, Wanda felt a thrill go up her spine at the sound of her heels clacking slightly on the floor. Who knew such a simple sound could instill great levels of confidence?

The morning was long, information being thrown at her by her new boss. Luckily, Agatha had taught her how to take effective notes, and CEO training had nothing on experimental rune combinations. 

The afternoon stretched on, filled with meetings and countless handshakes, and Wanda remained steadfast through it all. She was relieved when they finally returned to the top floor, settling gratefully into a chair as her new boss started talking, pulling something up on her computer.

“Of course, you'll have to choose a stage name of sorts. It sells the mysterious illusion that surrounds your position.” The woman said, brown eyes peering at Wanda over the top of her computer. 

A small smirk formed on Wanda’s lips, her mind thrown back to the small cabin in the woods. Visions of purple wisps, lavender perfume, and bright eyes danced through her thoughts, a name popping into her head almost immediately. Blinking away the memory of strong arms wrapped around her waist as a white rabbit watched from the countertop, Wanda looked up, eyes sparkling.

“The Scarlet Witch.”

You stare at the candle, in its flickering light you see a woman, no, a girl, pressed up against a tree whimpering and moaning as your wife senselessly kisses her. 

You are not a particularly possessive witch, you know your wife and you trust her. You know she sometimes does unconventional things to get what she wants. A spell here and there, a small sigil, a few drops of forbidden herbs sprinkled into someone’s cup of tea… 

The end justifies the means. Machiavelli is said to be the author of that quote, but you’re pretty sure it was Agatha who whispered it into his ear all those centuries ago.

You blink and the image before you dissolves. You furiously wipe away tears that start falling as you feel a tremor in your hands. Your anger fuels your magic. 

You know Agatha is looking for a powerful spell, a spell to uncover an ancient type of magic. The magic can be used for good things, getting back things you’ve lost without having to sacrifice your soul. The girl must be just another piece of the puzzle. You know that. But surely there are different ways to get her to speak. 

And Agatha always getting what she wants no matter who she hurts? It’s just become too much. 

You stand abruptly and go pack your bag. You need to be away from her for some time. 

You are in middle of packing when your wife comes home, you can see the light blush on her cheeks and you wonder how far she’s gone. Did you stop looking too soon? 

“My love,” she says and comes closer to hug you, but you step away. She frowns and looks around. “Are we going somewhere?” 

You chuckle mirthlessly. “I am.” 

She has the audacity to look hurt. “What’s happened?”

You throw the bag on the floor furiously and cross your arms. “I saw you, Agatha.” Her eyes widen slightly in surprise. “I saw you kiss that girl and who knows what else. What the fuck? Couldn’t you have used a potion or something?”

“Baby,” she begs and steps closer again, but the tremor that’s back in your hands stops her. “I didn’t mean to… She was an easy target. I saw how she looked at me and thought it’d be easier to-“

“Easier for who?” you raise your voice. “Fuck, Agatha, I’m done. This is too much. I don’t care what means you use usually, but you hurt me this time! I’m done.” You lean down to grab your bag, but she’s faster and makes it disappear. 

Suddenly she’s in front of you, clasping your hands, not caring how freaking angry you are, how much you could hurt her back. “Please, please,” she whispers, brings your hands to her mouth and kisses them softly. “Don’t leave. I’m sorry.”

You free your hands and step back again. “No, it’s too late. I need some space.”

There are tears in Agatha’s eyes now, she looks genuinely scared. “No, Y/N, let me make it better.” 

You start shaking more violently now, the anger and hurt too much, you need an outlet. “Agatha, I need to go away, I can feel the anger… I’ll hurt you.” 

The shaking stops the moment Agatha moves. Because her next move is something that takes your breath away. Agatha Harkness steps closer and gets on her knees right in front of you. You swallow loudly at seeing your wife in that state. Your wife, the almighty Agatha Harkness, getting on her knees. 

“Y/N,” she whispers and takes your palm in her hands, drawing a small sigil with her finger. A sigil that binds her to you. A different kind than the one you did during your marriage ceremony. A sigil that binds her body to you for some time. She cannot do anything without your knowing, without you allowing it.

“Agatha, fuck,” you gasp. “What are you doing?”

She drops your hands and puts her palms behind her back. “I’ll do anything to make you stay. However much I’ve hurt you, hurt me back. I’m yours, Y/N Harkness.” 

You shake your head furiously and also get on your knees to be on her level. You grab her face gently between your hands, your heart overwhelmed by her display of trust. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

She smiles sadly and moves her head to the side to plant a kiss on the sigil on your palm. “Yes, you do. And I accept it. I promise I’ll be good, just please… stay.” Tears fall down her eyes and you lean closer to catch them with your kisses. 

You want to refuse, you want to go away for some time, but the image of the girl in the forest appears in your mind again and your hands start shaking once more. 

“I want you to have a safe word,” you request.

Agatha nods slowly. “Broom.”

You chuckle and kiss her softly on the lips before standing up. 

Agatha is still kneeling, looking up at you with utter devotion, and you trace her face with your finger, slowly, humming, building the anticipation because Agatha is giving herself to you and for someone like Agatha that is the biggest proof of love. 

The image is back in your mind and you growl at that and at the same time you run your fingers through Agatha’s wild hair, catching them, grabbing them, making her gasp in pain. 

“I cannot stop seeing you two,” you snarl in her face. “You pressing her up against the tree, kissing her, making her moan.”

Another tear starts falling down her cheek and you lean down to lick it. You see tiny sparkles of blue, your magic, around your arm, seeping into Agatha’s skin where you’re holding her, knowing she can now feel your pain. 

“Tell me,” you whisper into her face and catch the strap of her dress with the other hand, dangerously slowly pulling it down. “How was she?” 

Agatha opens her mouth, but nothing comes out. 

“How was she?” you growl again and as you pull the strap down her breast falls out of her dress. You immediately grab it, twisting her nipple. 

She cries out in pain. “She was nothing! I swear, she was just a pawn!”

You smile predatorily and caress the abused breast before slapping it. “And yet, she was worth risking our marriage.” 

“Y/N, I swear-“

“Shut up,” you let out. Your hand leaves her hair and you grab her cheeks, pushing them together. “You’re my toy now. Mine to use, mine to abuse…” You hum as you magic away her dress altogether and hungrily eye her exposed breasts. “That’s what you wanted, no? By drawing that sigil.”

You grab her cheeks more firmly and make her stand up, walking her backwards to the bed where you drop her and she falls on her back. “Does the great Agatha Harkness need to be put in place?” you ask mockingly. 

You get on the bed between her spread legs and drag your fingers over her thighs, leaving angry red marks from your nails. “There’s nothing you’ll deny me right now, huh?” 

Agatha shakes her head. “I told you already, I’d do anything to make you stay. I love you.”

You tilt your head curiously. “So if I were to put you naked on a leash and take you on a walk through the village…?” 

Agatha’s face drops, eyes wide, and she whispers: “i’d do it.” You’re breathless and aching at Agatha’s sudden display of submissiveness. 

Your finger curiously moves across her panties, the only piece of clothes she’s wearing since you made her dress disappear. Agatha shivers. You’re shocked to see how wet she is. Is she truly enjoying being degraded? 

“Hmm,” you murmur. “Good to know. Don’t worry, though, this body is for my eyes only. And maybe other whores you use to get what you want.” 

You lean over her, pinning her more roughly to the bed, grounding into her center. She bucks her hips in response, eyes fluttering shut as you kiss her violently. Agatha’s legs raise up to come around your hips, planting her ankles on your lower back to push you closer. 

You grab your wife’s wrists, dragging her arms above her head and the wild waves that make you want to hide in them. Your hand moves down to cup Agatha’s breast. You pinch the nipple, twist it, before palming it and gently massaging it. Agatha squirms. “Fuck, Y/N.” 

You reclaim her lips and this time your hand reaches up to settle around your wife’s throat. It’s firm, but not too much. Just enough to remind her that you’re the one with control. You lean down to suck on her collarbone, under her jaw, on her pulse, leaving big purple marks behind you, so that everyone knows Agatha Harkness belongs to somebody. 

Agatha keeps grinding her hips against you and you suddenly have an idea. You stop kissing her and murmur a quick spell against her lips. She gasps as she realises what you’ve done, as she feels something growing underneath your pants. 

You smile wickedly as you make your clothes disappear, as your hands dig into Agatha’s underwear, tearing it away. Now you’re both naked and she can feel you and your new member against her soaked folds. 

“Oh Goddess,” she whimpers and her back arches as you slowly roll your hips, teasing her, but not really giving her what she needs. In the end, it’s going to be your call - thanks to the sigil. 

Agatha’s pupils are blown out as you suddenly sit up and stand up next to the bed. She’s panting, her lips bruised from the kisses, her hair oh so wild. She looks at you like she wants you to break her, to claim her. And you want to do all that. She looks like a goddess and she’s yours and you’ll spend forever reminding her. 

“Come closer and show me how much you love me,” you order. Agatha moves slowly, she gets on her knees and crawls to you. Her eyes never leave yours as she lowers her head and grabs your magical penis between her lips. 

You moan as she sucks, her tongue swirling, teeth softly grazing. You grab her hair and push her head. She’s still looking up at you and you see the tears in her eyes. You cannot tear your eyes from her face. You never wanted to dominate her, you were both very much equal, enjoying the occasional power battle in sex, but this… “You look so pretty like this,” you whisper. “Mouth full of my cock, the best way to shut you up, isn’t it?” 

She sucks a little bit more but you don’t want to come like this. You push her away, reaching for her, kissing her deeply. “Fuck, I love you so much.” You can taste yourself on her tongue and once you lean back, you put two fingers on her lips. She immediately parts them and you put the fingers inside, gathering the saliva in her mouth, smearing it across her cheeks. “Such a good girl for your wife, aren’t you?” You dig your nails into her jaw. “Good obedient pet. Who would have thought?”

“Y/N,” she whimpers and leans to kiss you again, but you push her away by the shoulders. 

“Grab the headboard,” you order, motioning to the bars of the bed frame. 

Agatha turns around and dugs her fingers into the wood. She looks back at you, her face flushed, the usually bright blue eyes darkened, her lips swollen, her back arched. 

You can feel the fake cock twitch at the sight, your wife obediently waiting for further instructions. You position yourself behind her and drag the tip of your cock through her folds, making her gasp in pleasure. 

“Fuck,” Agatha breathes out and her eyes flutter shut. 

“You like this?” you whisper, reaching with your hand for her breast, massaging it. You use your other hand to gently press the cock into her. You move slowly, painfully slowly pushing it inside of her. 

Agatha tenses and you caress her back. “You okay?” 

She breathes in and out and nods. “Yes, I’m okay.” 

You grab her hips and almost pull out before slamming back into her. “You feel so good, Agatha,” you moan as you fuck her. She rolls her hips to meet your thrusts and an primal need to fuck any thought out of her head overtakes you and you lose yourself in the sensation of a part of you buried deep inside Agatha’s warmth. “You will never do anything like this ever again.”

Agatha groans as you slam into her especially hard. “No, I promise.”

“You are my wife.”

“Yess, I am yours,” she cries out. You grab her hair in one hand making her lean back, her back arching even more, your other hand steadies her by holding her waist as you keep thrusting into her. 

Soon you are both a quivering panting mess and she comes only a second after you because in your mind you allowed her to. 

You collapse on top of her and once you gather yourself, you magic the cock away. Agatha whimpers at the sudden loss, but then sighs contently. 

“Do you want to taste me?” You plop down next to her and spread your legs. She peers over her shoulder and then hungrily moves to lay down between your thighs. She looks up at you and you realise she’s waiting for a fucking approval. “Go ahead, pet.” 

Agatha’s nostrils flare up at the nickname, you using her own favorite power play against her, her defiance doesn’t last long and she dips her head and licks a long stripe across your cunt. 

“Hmm, so good,” you coo, never moving your eyes away from her. “Such a good puppy, aren’t you?” 

Again with the expression. You can tell she hates it, but she’s not safe wording, so it cannot be that bad for her. You lift up her face by pulling her hair. Her chin is all wet from your pussy. “What, pet? Do you not like it when I call you that?” 

“I don’t, but you can call me whatever you want,” she replies. 

“You bet I do,” you say pushing her face back to your center. “Now continue.” 

She gets back to licking, devouring and you clasp your thighs around her head when she makes you come. 

Agatha leans back against your inner thigh, looking up at you with so much love in her eyes that you know it’s enough. You brush your fingers against her cheek, lovingly. You wanted to humiliate her like she humiliated you by kissing someone else and seeing her so thoroughly ruined and marked and spent, you don’t feel anger anymore, your magic is still right under the surface, but now it’s calling for your wife - to have her, to care for her, to love her. 

She’s usually the big spoon, but this time you know she needs the aftercare, so you gently gather her in your arms and lift her up to hide her in your embrace, spooning her from behind. 

She grabs your hands and clasps them in front of her chest, softly kissing them. “I love you, I love you.”

Agatha watches as Rio's eyes track the different papers and folders on her desk. There's a furrow between her brows. It's hardly noticeable, but it's always there when she's putting together pieces of a puzzle. Agatha fidgets, knee bouncing. She wonder's what Rio sees.

"These aren't active cases." She picks up one of the papers. "They aren't even assigned to you."

"Just felt like helping out is all," Agatha mumbles. She snatches the paper away from Rio, but she can tell the other woman is not satisfied. She can feel her gaze piercing into her soul while she tries to read over the case.

"You're all alone this Christmas aren't you." Rio says it in a sing songy voice, but it does nothing to dull the ache she feels inside. "No friends?" Agatha tenses. "No family?"

"Shut up." It comes out as a whisper.

"All alone in that big old house."

"Stop."

Rio hums, ignoring her. "What about your mother? Those church types sure do love Christmas Eve. I bet she would love to see her only daughter visit. You know, if her daughter wasn't a—."

"Fucking drop it," Agatha shouts. A head pops up from across the room and Agatha quickly lowers her voice. The damage was already done though. There is a self satisfied smirk on Rio's face as she looks down at her, and Agatha curses herself for falling for the bait.

Thought it isn't really her fault. Rio knows. And Rio knows better too. Agatha growls and stands up, chair rolling back to hit the desk behind her. She brushes past Rio roughly. "I'm going for a smoke."

"You're forgetting your coat," Rio calls out.

Agatha flips her middle finger not bothering to look back. She doesn't need a fucking coat.

~~~

She should've brought a fucking coat. It's snowing. Fat flakes fall from the sky covering the ground. She's huddled up by the door, the small alcove doing nothing to protect her from the cold. Technically speaking, she's not supposed to be smoking right next to the door, but technically speaking whoever made that law can go fuck themselves.

Her hands are shoved in her pockets while the cigarette dangles from her lips. The wind blows and cuts right through all of her one layer of clothing. Her thoughts drift, as it often seemed to do, towards Rio. It's reasonable this time, because she's the entire fucking reason she's out here. A dozen different responses of what she could've said to Rio but didn't flit through her head as she thinks over their conversation.

"What a fucking asshole," she grumbles, and then watches as the cigarette falls out of her mouth and into the snow below. "FUCK!"

~~~

Agatha takes her time walking back to her desk. The snow that had accumulated on her in her brief foray outside has melted and now instead of just cold, she's also wet. She thinks she might have a spear shirt in her desk, and would love to change into it, but she's also hesitant about seeing Rio again. Instead she loiters in the break room.

The cookies are gone, multicolored sprinkles on the countertop the only evidence that they were ever there. The eggnog is still there. It's in a crockpot, and Agatha eyes it warily. There's a weird skin on the top, and a mug lying sideways in it. It's red and green and Agatha carefully picks it up bringing with it a half of cup of the creamy liquid.

She pours it in to another cup, because she has standards, takes a sip, and gags. It's fucking disgusting. But it's got enough alcohol to quiet her thoughts, and it warms her up in more ways than one so she keeps drinking. She takes the cup and sinks down on the couch that sits at the back of the room.

~~~

She's got a pleasant buzz going. The mug is held loosely in her hands and her eyes are closed and she just breathes. She had already made one trip back to the eggnog, ignoring the slimy bits, because Johnson was focused more on the ABV instead of actually creating a palatable drink. The chief would probably be mad that she's drinking on the job, but the chief also never comes on Christmas Day so she thinks she clear.

Footsteps enter the room.

Agatha sighs. "Rio I swear to god—,"

"Oh there you are?"

Agatha cracks an eye open. Not Rio stands before her.

The cops some mousy Asian girl that just transferred over looks at her with a board expression on her face. Her hands are tucked into her vest and she raises an eyebrow at Agatha's mostly empty mug. "You're wanted in conference room Z," she says.

Agatha frowns. Conference room Z isn't really a conference room. It's just a glorified storage closet they found that someone put a card table in and someone else taped a printed sign to.

"What?"

"Dunno?" The cop shrugs and starts walking away. "Was just told to tell you that you were supposed to go to conference room Z."

Agatha has an inkling of who would be waiting for her there. If she was smart, she'd ignore the request and go back to her desk, or better yet go home. But unfortunately she has had just enough to drink to start the trek down the halls to the allusive conference room Z.

She opens the door harder than necessary, leaning against the door to see Rio sitting at the table, legs kicked up to rest on top of it. Rio's looks her up her down before pushing back from the table, planting her feet on the ground.

"Come here," she beckons, and Agatha does.

Agatha walks until she's standing between Rio's spread legs. Rio's hands come up to grasp her hips, and she looks up at her.

"Hi," Rio says, tongue poking out her mouth.

"Hi," Agatha says back, because know that she's standing there, she can't help but notice how brown Rio's eyes are. Has it always been that brown? Has she always looked that good?

Rio's hand sneaks up the front of her shirt and fists her collar pulling her down for a kiss. Agatha sinks into it, eyes fluttering closed as she leans into Rio. A whimper leaves her throat when Rio pulls back.

"You've been drinking?" Rio asks.

"Just a little." Agatha tries to push forward for another kiss but Rio holds her back.

"And on the job? Santa's not going to like that."

Agatha sits down on the other woman straddling her legs. "Santa Claus can go fuck himself." She grabs Rio's face with both hands and presses forward to try and steal another kiss. This time Rio lets her.

It feels like forever and also no time at all when Rio stands. Agatha squeaks, legs instinctively wrapping around the other woman. The room spins and she squeezes her eyes shut. "Rio, what the fuck?" she slurs.

She is just as quickly deposited on the small card table, and she's pushed down to lie on her back. Agatha stares at the ceiling trying to regain her bearings.

"You know how long I've been waiting for you?" Rio asks.

Her voice is low and her fingers are deftly undoing the buttons of Agatha's shirt. Agatha lays their motionless as Rio's hand ghosts across the bare skin of her stomach before pushing under the fabric of her sports bra. She bites her lips and stifles a moan as she grabs a handful of her flesh.

"Answer me." Rio pinches a nipple, and Agatha's back arches, a whine coming from her throat.

Agatha tries to focus but all she can feel is Rio's hands. They alternate between groping and kneading her breasts, and pinching and rolling her nipples. "Dunno," she manages to squeeze out.

Agatha's usually not this sensitive, and while alcohol does make her more horny than it usually does it doesn't usually have this effect. She feels like very sense has been dialed up to ten. Every breath, every touch, sends signals directly to her cunt. She can feel herself getting wet, slick dripping out of her.

You don't know?" Rio's voice is mocking, and she leans over licking a stripe up Agatha's stomach before latching on to her breast.

"Oh Fuck," Agatha shouts. Her hips try to buck, but Rio's on top of her holding her down. Her hands fly down to grab at Rio's head, but Rio quickly redirects them.

She pulls off of Agatha's chest, and the cold air surrounds her nipple. "Think I've got better use for that." She manipulates Agatha's hand, curling the fingers until there is two poking out. "Open your mouth baby," Rio says, and Agatha does, sucking in her own fingers.

"Good girl," Rio coos. "Don't want you getting too loud. Wouldn't want your coworkers finding you here. Moaning like a bitch in heat."

Agatha bites down on her fingers, the pain bringing the slightest bit of awareness to her situation. She's at work, technically on duty, and that door definitely does not lock. She tries to push herself up into a sitting position but Rio holds her down.

Rio's hand snakes down between their bodies teasing at the waist of her pants. "How wet do you think you'll." She cranes her head up to mouth at Agatha's neck. "I think you'll be soaked." Her hand slips into Agatha's jeans cupping lightly over her underwear. Agatha whines around her fingers, drool pooling in her mouth.

"You were always so desperate."

Rio doesn't move her hand. It rests there, gently cupping Agatha's mound and it is driving her insane. Agatha squirms underneath Rio, tries anything to get some friction where she needs it most. She's basically rutting into Rio's hand, but it does nothing.

"Rio," she gasps.

"Beg."

"Please, please, please." The shame has left her and the pleas leave her lips. Her hand has left her mouth and instead her spit covered digits hold on to her shirt. She's lying half naked on a shitty table in a glorified supply closet at her work. She's committed, at this point, to debasing herself. "Rio please touch me."

"Well since you asked so nicely." Her fingers move out of her pants and Agatha almost cries before they, along with her underwear are being pushed down to her knees. The plastic is cold beneath her butt, but Agatha can't find it in herself to care. Rio's fingers come up, tracing a path along her thigh, before finally coming to where she needs it most.

Yes, Agatha chants in her head, and also, apparently, out loud. Rio sinks in three fingers at once. There's no preparation, but there is no need because Agatha's soaked. She can feel it, and she can hear it. The squelch of Rio's fingers as they move inside her.

"Did you see how easily you took me." There's a hint of awe in Rio's voice. She twists her wrist drawing out a moan from Agatha. "You're such a fucking slut aren't you?"

"Yes," Agatha whines.

"You're my fucking slut."

"Yes. Yes. I'm yours." If she were sober would be embarrassed at the words falling out of her mouth. As it was, all she could think about was the cliff she was hurtling towards. If she were sober she'd also be embarrassed about that as well.

"Rio," she pants. Her breasts are bouncing and the table rocks from the force of Rio's thrusts. "I'm gonna come."

"No," Rio says sharply. "You can't." She speeds up the motion of her hand, and the other one comes down to rub at her clit.

Agatha feels like she's on fire. "I can't," she whimpers. She's tensing, trying to hold back. "Rio please. Please let me come."

"You want to be a good girl right?" Rio asks.

"Uh huh," she nods.

"Then you can hold out a little longer."

Agatha shakes her head. She can't. It's like her senses are in overdrive and suddenly everything is just too much. Her hand reaches blindly to grasp at the other woman. "Rio, I need… I need…" She doesn't know what she needs.

"Oh baby don't cry." Rio reaches up to touch her face, one hand cupping her cheek. Her hand is wet and sticky and Agatha clenches around nothing and she realizes that Rio stopped fucking her.

She feels devastated. "Rio please," she wails.

Rio adjusts herself so that her thigh is slotted between her legs. She presses up and Agatha bucks, groaning as her core rubs against denim. "Come on. Take what you need," she says, and Agatha does.

Her hips move on her own accord, rutting against Rio's leg in no discernible rhythm. Rio's speaking, random words of praise and degradation that go in one ear and out the other as she mindlessly seeks her pleasure.

"Come Agatha," Rio says.

And she does.

~~~

A bone seated weariness settles over her. She knows she must look a mess. She can feel the sweat dripping down her body, and her hair sticking to her face. Her legs dangle uselessly of the edge of the table, and she turns her head to look at Rio.

Rio's leaning against the door, legs crossed, looking not at all like she just fucked someone within an inch of the life. One hand rests on the doorknob, the other in her back pocket. She smiles, tongue poking out between her teeth.