#witch reader au

☞🎃☜

Mothers teach their children not to play with matches. That horrifying knowledge that a third-degree burn can happen in mere seconds. But what most mothers don’t know is that the average time for an American Dream starter home. You know - the ‘three-bedroom two-bath house at the end of the suburbs?’ Well that can be burned up in a matter of five minutes…. Everything gone, in a blink. 

Less time than a microwave TV dinner.

Faster than most twenty-year-old men ejaculate into a condom. 

Life and ruin - all from something so small, so innocent, like a match.  

That’s how you looked under the gaze of the murderous witch killer and Death - innocent.

“You wanted a prize my love, you are going to have to take it.” Rio told Agatha who eyed you in your boxers and no bra.  

“You swear you won’t interfere ever again?” They spoke in the dark. 

“That’s the deal, you gave me, Billy. Your power restored, and your very own toy - for eternity. You both won’t die, and she’s all yours.” Rio lingered on your sleeping form a little wistfully. 

“She’s…What I asked for…?”

“You don’t like?” Rio scoffed, seeming unbelieving of the possibility. You were Agatha’s type that wasn’t it. 

“That’s not my question.”

“Wait,” Rio mused. They were quiet so as to not wake you. 

You stretched in your sleep, unaware that you were about to be the star of a kidnapping. 

But as you moved your thumb between your lips Agatha had her answer. Ignoring the man who slept next to you softly. You two had lived in this apartment for years now, and he had found out about your thumb sucking, thinking it was gross. But you couldn’t help it - and still did in in your sleep, even as an almost thirty year old. Slight sucking noises could be heard by the witch and death. 

Agatha had her answer, a perfect little baby - ready to be ruined. 

If we are counting, the average kidnapping only takes 90 seconds. 

But Agatha was rather competitive she halved that time. 

The first six months were rough at being held prisoner. You screamed at her, threw things. Attempted to escape, got hurt. Yelled harsh words, sobbed, lost track of time, lost will to fight back anymore.

Then something inside of you broke - your mind became fuzzy. Regression falling out of you - happening without your consent. 

You wished you could blame the witch for bending your willpower. But Agatha didn’t bend your mind - no she did a good old manipulation act on you. 

If you didn’t call her Mommy or crawl around on the ground - well she’d deny you bathroom access. Having you wet yourself. 

You’d cry, and the witch would just shush you and coo. Rocking your pee-soaked body against her clean form. 

“It’s so hard to be big, you just need to listen to Mommy. Let go of all those thoughts.”

You’d sob, and the witch would give you a bath with toys. 

Agatha didn’t beat you, she didn’t torture you with nightmares, she fed you, cleaned you, and read you bedtime stories. 

You wanted to hate her for it…And sometimes your mind would remind you not to fall for it. Still, Agatha seemed to want you to want to be here. Reasoning with you;

“Why so you can go back to your sad excuse for a life?” 

“People will look for me! I CAN’T JUST BE YOUR BABY FOREVER!” You thought of the Avengers or - or maybe the government at least. 

“Oh, like your boyfriend, the one who leaves bruises on your wrists?” Agatha’s teeth bared, and you don’t wondered - you were sure she’d already killed the man. You gulp but grabbed your arm self-consciously, a memory of what was. And the stark contrast of what Agatha was offering you - a life where you never needed to keep track of time. To count minutes, to hide your needs.

The fights began to dwindle after that….

Your big side had a harder and harder time reasoning that Agatha was in fact…your captor. 

Not when you slept in a crib by her bed….with blanky and a stuffed bear wearing a pumpkin outfit.

Agatha would wake when you had a bad dream, pulling you out of the crib and into her bed. Cuddling you to her chest, and you were afraid to say - these were your favorite nights. 

One morning, Agatha was sitting in her favorite chair, and you were lying on the floor with your scrambled eggs and sippy cup of orange juice when you spotted a stack of VHS. 

Agatha was reading, steam wafting from her tea cup, and you squinted to see the backyard leaves had fallen from the tree. 

Autumn. 

Strange that time was passing; it should have evoked terror at your core. 

But your regression - it clouded the thoughts, making them hard to get to. 

So instead of going down that scary rabbit hole - crawled over to the stack of VHS. Licking your bottom lip slowly you made a decision, clearing your voice. 

“Mama?”

The witch raised her chin out from the book to gaze at you - displaying that you had her attention. 

“Can I watch one?” You pointed to the stack and Agatha arched an eyebrow. 

“Do you know how?”

You shook your head innocently -  that was the right answer. Babies didn’t know how to do anything without their Mommy. 

“How much do you want to watch a movie?” Like ‘what’ll you do for it?’

Your eyes formed into puppy dog begging, lip puffed out to pout. 

“Mama, can I pwease watch a movie?” 

“Hmmm, I think that can be arranged. Did you finish your breaky?” Your Mama closed the book putting it to the side. Getting to her feet, her robe swooshing to the side as she came over and crouched down to assess the tapes. 

Not taking it away from your hands - not like your boyfriend had. Calling you names, hurting you - no, Agatha waited for you to slowly sort through the stack. Never rushing you - never one to miss a moment with you. 

That’s when you see the brown dog - and scared Shaggy. Getting excited, you grab it with both hands and hold it up to your Mama. 

“Can you read it, Bun?” Agatha asked, setting her knees down and sitting on the back of her heels to be next to you. You shake your head - realizing….you can’t actually. 

“That’s okay, pumpkin, you picked Scooby Doo.” Agatha turns the tape over to check the rating and you clock the ghost witch in the corner and point to it. 

“Witch like Mama?” You ask and Agatha’s lip curls at the side enjoying your regression more and more every moment since you’d let go. Today was a good day. 

She flips the tape and smirks.

“You like witches, baby?”

“Pointy hats?” You tone is shy and enamored and Agatha brushes your hair out of your eyes. You don’t flinch anymore, and she loves that. 

“Have you seen your Mommy in a pointy hat? Am I a ghost?” She challenges maliciously and you giggle and then she does too. 

“No!” You laugh and Agatha quickly kisses your forehead. 

“Finish your breakfast, and I’ll start it for you.” She stands up - about to walk over to the old TV with it’s brain-like back, clunky and outdated. 

You panic, and Agatha sees the shift and grows scared that you are about to snap out of your regression and throw an adult-sized tantrum. But you don’t you bite your bottom lip. 

“You don’t wanna watch wi’f me?” Your baby talk slips up - and your Mommy finds it adorable. 

“Do you want to watch such a scary movie alone?”

You panic further - and Agatha understands now. 

“I don wanna another witch to take me Mama!” Your anxiety falls all around you, and Agatha puts the VHS under her armpit and bends down, picking you up easily. You wrap your arms and legs around her - clinging. 

“Not possible, you know why?”

“Cause you have spooky book?” You try and Agatha laughs against you, and you hide in her neck. Her long dark hair tickles your face. 

“What do you know of my spooky book, little one?” She teases and then sets you back down on the floor in front of the TV, next to your meal. And you miss her touch - but aren’t sure how to ask. So you pull at your fingers, as Agatha cracks open the aged plastic. Injecting the tape into the bottom of the tv and turning it on. The blue screen shows immediately, and then the ghost pops up on the screen - Bohner’s family not rewinding it before. You yelp in fear. And Agatha finds the remote and pauses it, twisting to see you afraid of the show. 

And Agatha curses in her mind how they rated this cartoon G. 

Before she can take the VHS out or comfort you - you lift your hands in the air. The universal pick-me-up signal. Only Agatha wasn’t sure if you had ever asked to be picked up. 

It takes her a second, and your face scrunches in clear despair, and her body snaps to attention. In a swift motion, crossing over to you and picking you up. 

“Shhhh, my little light, no tears.”

You begin to cry at being scared. Tears wetting your cheeks, what you don’t notice - is how the corner of the rug catches on fire, combusting out of nowhere. 

Agatha is holding you firm, as sees the tiny fire - as she’s seen so many before. Her purple puts it out without a second thought. A small bit of smoke from the singe, and then no other trace. 

Agatha sits back into the chair, and you wail and sob. 

“Oh no little match, don’t you worry. Your Mommy is the scariest witch in all the land.”

“Don’t leave me.” You hiccup, and Aggie’s chest constricts, words she never thought you’d say. Or anyone would ever say to her, in fact. 

“Never…” She whispers into your hair and rocks you back and forth, as well as herself. 

Time passes with only the sound of the fall wind against the house and the buzz of the old TV. Your sniffle every now and then signaled you were in that space between sleep and exhaustion from upset. 

“I - Can I try again?” You ask bravely, and Agatha uncurls you from her collar bone, where you’d been hiding. 

“You sure it’s not too scary?” She asks hesitantly and you nod. Agatha tries not to laugh at you pretending to be tough, seeing as you were wearing a onesie with black cats and pumpkins. 

“I wanna see da doggie.” Your thumb goes into your mouth and Agatha doesn’t have the heart to tell you not to. 

“Okay, sweetheart.” Agatha gives in, as she felt like she was doing maybe too much these days. But who could tell such an adorable face ‘no.’ She starts to move you, and you don’t like that one bit. 

You make upset noises at the action.

“What is it love?”

“Hold me?” You ask and Agatha isn’t sure what she did to get this lucky. But if it meant all the bad - maybe it was worth it. She’d kidnapped you long ago if it meant you blinking up through watery eyes at her and asking that. 

“Of course, my tiny torch.” Mommy smiles real big and warm, before scooting your body closer to her, and you rest your head on her chest. Thumb in your mouth, and Aggie uses the remote that fell next to her thigh to rewind to the start of the film. 

Hitting pay as the theme song starts, you are glued to the film.  

Agatha swore she’d do anything to keep you, as you watched the movie, and she stared openly at you. Not sure where her villainous streak had gone, because now all she wanted to do was shower you with love and toys. Thinking about how hard it was becoming to set you in the crib at night, when your body against hers was the best sleep she’d ever gotten. 

You were no longer her villain retirement plan. 

You were Agatha Harkness' Baby, her whole world. 

You wiggled a little in her lap, but Agatha didn’t correct you. Allowing you to get comfy, thumb in mouth, head under her chin. But you jerk forward and use the tips of your fingers to stretch out and try to reach your teddy bear. 

Agatha uses her purple and it falls in your lap. 

You murmur a thanks around your thumb, and Mama kisses your head as you hold the bear. 

About halfway through the film you squirm again, and again. And Agatha isn’t sure what has you so wiggly. Was it uncomfortable to sit on her lap?

You squeezed your thighs together and started to shift to one side, and Aggie couldn’t disguise her confusion. Only for you to keep watching the movie - the hex girls coming into view. 

Aggie wasn’t sure what had you so distressed, until you flipped your position. Knees settling on each side of Agatha’s left thigh. Then sitting down - and your Mama noticed a wet patch. 

You hadn’t asked to go potty, and Agatha had made you go before breakfast….so…

You turned your face to look over your shoulder at the Hex girls on the old TV singing. 

And then you grind your thinly clothed pussy against your Mama. Not even really aware it seemed of what you were doing. But Agatha was hanging onto your every movement, the way you gasped when you shifted your hips up and down. 

She longed to unsnap your onesie buttons - stick her fingers, her tongue, her magic cock inside. But Agatha was holding her breath. Not wanting to break the spell. Not caring if you were humping her to a cartoon of witchs. 

Too focused on the sensation of the wet spot, the movement of your hips. Agatha slowly opened her robe so that there was no longer the silk. Only her skin against the damp cotton. 

Both of you found the new bit of skin better as you humped harder and faster. 

Agatha was moaning in tandem with you now, your thumb still in between your lips as you chased your pleasure. 

Innocently watching your movie - grinding down as though you were simply exploring a sensation for the first time. 

And Agatha was dripping against the leather seat - her cunt pulsing at your action. 

Your Mommy wanted so desperately to take you - to finally splay you out and make you scream so loud the neighbors would be concerned….

Yet in the morning light - all your witch could do was powerlessly watch you, enthralled by your ever sigh, ever humping against her thigh. 

You gasped and grind your teeth as you orgasmed fast - not loud or shocking - but a bit of frustration and then another gush against Agatha’s thigh. 

And then she smelled your cum and squeezed her cunt against nothingness. Your heart thudding against her chest - nipples hard as rocks thingly covered, rubbing each other. 

Aggie came right there and then - with your innocent act. So delicious and sticky, everything Agatha Harkness had always wanted. 

Mama tried so hard not to make noise, to interrupt, but she whimpered and blue eyes rolled back. 

And you slid the soaking wet onesie cloth a few more times through your own aftershocks. 

Until you finally settled against your Mommy, covered in cum but satisfied. The century old witch tried to catch her breath. Not sure if she had ever cum from zero stimuation before, and certainly not that hard. Agatha watched as you tugged teddy back against your chest and flipped onto your butt once more. Back to being cradled against you, facing forward to watch the movie play out. 

Fred making his plan for the gang. As Agatha made the decision to lick the cum off of your onesie later. 

Life had never been this good for Agatha Harkness. 

But all good things must be tested. 

It’s almost Halloween when it happens. Agatha comes out of the shower, having you naked laying in bed still sleeping as your Mama got herself ready first. Her towel wrapped around her hair as she sighs, it’s still dark out - minus the nightlight with the pumpkin on it she keeps on your side of the bed. Crib in the corner - not used for weeks since your first humping display. 

“Such a sleepy sweetness. Is Mama’s match stick, you ready for breaky?” Agatha’s voice is rough from sleep as she comes closer to the bed. Something feels off, and when she pulls back the blankets to see your form - and then it shatters. Red mist dissolving - a glamor. 

You were gone. 

You were kidnapped by the red-haired witch - not the same as the Hex Girls at all. The witch kept saying  you were safe that this was a: ‘safe house.’ 

A large military scratchy blanket draped over your naked frame. Your knees wobbled as you had been crawling for so long now it was strange. 

The wooden cabin was strange - and you were sure this was a nightmare. 

As superheroes dressed in spandex spoke to you- and you found you didn’t know how to speak, you became (to them) catatonic. 

“Can you tell us - did you see her basement? Do you know where the book is?” A man who was blonde like Fred asked you only to be shushed by the red witch who kidnapped you. 

“Steve - stop, we need to get them food and clothes, and then we can ask.”

“Wanda no - we might not have that much time, if she’s got the Darkhold she could end everything.” A man with a cape and bad facial hair told her. 

“Stephen, stop it - Agatha brainwashed them. There were….babies toys… just stop it okay.” 

Another red-headed woman came over to you with a stack of clothes. 

“Do you need help?” She asked, bending down a little to look you in the eyes, and you flinched. 

“Poor thing, abused as hell.” The man you knew to be Steve said. 

“We don’t know what happened,” The kind lady with clothes glared at the man for saying that in front of you. 

Your feet were cold against the wood floor, and you tried to breathe like Agatha taught you when you were upset. Because they all started to talk ontop of one another. 

“Harkness is a freak! Baby toys? I mean come on!” Steve yelled only for Wanda to put her hands out to try to get him to calm down. 

“Maybe they’re all powerful, a weapon of some kind?” Stephen asked sizing you up and you were so hunched over you could fold into yourself. 

“They were sucking their thumb, I think you need to lower your expectations on Agatha holding some kind of nuclear bomb okay? You don’t know Harkness.” Wanda countered her own anger growing at the lot of them. Memories of your ex boyfriend yelling at you for sucking your thumb play over. Your shitty childhood, all of the horrors of the real word. 

And you want your teddy, and you want your Mommy again. To make scrambled eggs the way you like and run you baths with rubber ducks. Your tears threaten to fall, fingers sparking like a zippo lighter. 

“Wan’ Mama.” You whispered as they yelled at each other around you. Unaware of the malavov cocktail standing next to them. The danger that came with kidnapping Agatha’s baby - as they debated on what to do - missing your neat little trick in there little house made of sticks. 

You squeezed your eyes shut, heat rising in your ears, in your chest. 

_____

Agatha located you quickly with the darkhold. Purple ready to torture some supersoldiers without a blink. They’d pay for taking you, they’d claw at their eyes - beg the witch for death.  

When Agatha’s feet touched down in the dirt next to you, she should have known what she’d find. 

Shivering naked with ash all over your chest. Whimpering ‘Mama help’ completely lost.  

In front of you the cabin was ablaze. 

Giant flames glowing hotter and brighter than your nightlight. 

Five minutes was the average home, but you hadn’t counted how quick a superhero compound had combusted with all their gunpowder and cosmic power. 

The supposed ‘evil witch’ who took you was fast to spin you to face her. Soot black fingers grabbed your face, but you weren’t there - you had dissociated as your Mama checked your body over for injury. Taking off her own dark purple cape and draping it over your naked form. Tightening it around your shoulders like a firefighter might to a lone survivor.  

“Mommy’s here, my little light, I’m so sorry. I’m here. You’re okay.” Agatha had one lone tear running down her cheek. 

You couldn’t be tough anymore, not like you had been for Scooby or your best friend teddy. You fell to your knees and Aggie went down too. Both of you on the ground as she rocked you and looked over to the cabin burning to a crisp.  

You want to ask why they thought it okay to kidnap you from your home. But you have no words, as Agatha holds your dirty body, all you can think is what monsters they are. Worse than any VHS tape ghost, that’s for sure. They reminded you of your ex, your old life, and you closed your eyes tight not wanting to ever go back.  

“I won’t let them ever take you again. I love you, I’ll keep you safe.” Agatha doesn’t even realize she’s dropped the word love. And you are pressed against her body so hard it hurts. But you want to be closer. You wheeze a little, your Mama rubs your back over the fabric of her cape practically swaddling your body. The witch killer shushes you soothingly as you cough on the smoke in the sky. The smell of burning flesh and rubble combusting under the growing flames.  

“Firefly, it’s okay. I got you. Mommy’s got you.”

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