Mentally not here

Agatha Harkness x fem!reader

“I loved you past the point of reason, into that dark place where devotion turns into damage.”

Agatha Harkness has been rarely left out of words, only three times in her 50 years of life to be exact. 

The first; when Rio proposed to her in an on-call room, after they’d both forgotten about the amazing anniversary dinner they’d booked and ended up missing because they’d stayed late at work.

So, Rio simply pulled the small box with the ring out of the pocket of her lab coat and after a crying session, Agatha finally saying yes. Only for them to slept into each other's arms on the narrow bed for hours.

The second; Nicky’s first steps, that day she spent two hours watching him wobble back and forth across the living room so she could brag about it for the rest of her life. Because even after a 24 hour shift, there was nothing more important than that. Only for Rio to get the first ‘mama’ a few days later  

The third, should be when her mother suddenly died. But honestly? That was the best news she had in years so she spent around ten minutes laughing then crying, then laughing again.

So, nope. 

The third time she was at a loss of words was thanks to you. 

-

At 08:00 am she woke up with an agitated gasp, she wished it was just another nightmare.

But it was still too vivid, she could still feel your lips on hers, the warmth of your skin and you like a goddess above her. The way your bodies fused together for a perfect minute and then how it felt like you were ripping a band-aid off a raw, open wound.

She had laid on the living room for what felt like an eternity after you left, the uncomfortable silence of the room and the cool air doing nothing to soothe the fire on her skin.When she finally had the strength to move and walk to her room, she stayed in front of the mirror looking at her disarmed reflection, feeling like an impostor in her own life. 

She had played god with your heart, convinced herself so hard that she was protecting you but all she had done was prove you right. She was just as capable of causing catastrophic damage as she was of preventing it. The obvious love she had for you hadn't been her strength; it had been her blind spot and it had led her to make the single biggest mistake of her life; believing this was going to be easy. 

She also had lost all her restrain, the lies she told herself about keeping you away in order to not keep fucking things up was just another of the many mistakes she keeps collecting. 

God, I’m a grown woman, I should be knowing what the fuck I’m doing. Why do I feel so lost?

She repeats to herself, in hopes that some sense comes to her but it just doesn’t. 

The twenty minutes she spent looking at the ceiling in complete silence weren’t enough to calm her buzzing mind. So, in the morning, every single step of her useless routine felt wrong and so foreign to her. 

When she finally emerged, the suite was mostly quiet. She could hear the faint clink of a spoon against a ceramic bowl from the dining area, you were staring at a bowl of cereal. You looked… empty. The vibrant, brilliant woman who challenged her at every turn was gone, replaced by this fragile shell.

She stood in the doorway for a moment, her hand gripping the frame so tightly her knuckles turned white. She wanted to go to you, to fall to her knees and beg for a forgiveness she didn't deserve. 

But she had no right, not anymore. 

She cleared her throat, the sound harsh in the quiet room “Good morning, did you… sleep well?”

The question was a cruelty and she knew it. It was a test, a wall, a thousand things all at once. She heard your sharp intake of breath, the clatter of your spoon against the table. 

“Peachy” you bit out, the word laced with a venom that she felt in her soul.

She nods and clears her throat, afraid she might even breathe the wrong way, and walks toward the coffeemaker as if it were a lifeline.

There was a time when she didn’t hesitate or had to hide behind awkward reactions; there was a time when she could command a room at will and people would even bow down before her. There was a time when there wasn’t an inner turmoil that could bring her down in seconds without even looking her in the eye.

Who she was before you is now just a memory she desperately doesn’t want to forget.

 “Okay. We- uh we have a long day ahead, so it is better to stay focused during the-”

You get up from the stool before she can finish the sentence and you can swear she flinched at that. When you get your things and you stop at the front door ready to leave, a thousand thoughts invade your mind. What are you supposed to say, how to act? 

Fucking hell. Be brave, do something, say something.

“Seriously?” you finally say “That’s all you’ve got to say? To focus”

Agatha didn’t turn around, her gaze fixed on her coffee cup as if it held the secrets to the universe “It’s everything that matters right now, everything else is irrelevant”

You let out a harsh, disbelieving laugh “You gotta be fucking kidding me, Agatha. What is wrong with you? After last night, are you not even mad at me? After I-” You stopped, the words catching in your throat, a raw, ugly sound.

That got her attention. Her eyes were cold, a deep, icy blue that you’d never seen directed at you before. It was a look reserved for interns who messed up and administrators who questioned her authority, not for the person who made her feel seen, understood, loved.

This was something else, there was anger, yes. But also pain, you could not only see it but feel it too.

“After-” She stops and presses her palms harder against the countertop, as if trying to find a way to steady herself. “After we- I made yet another mistake last night?”

“A mistake” you repeat, stepping closer to her again “Is that really all I'll ever be to you? After everything we've been through, it's all going to come down to this just because of your fears?”

“I need to protect you! When will you understand that? she shot back, her composure finally cracking but not the same way it did last night. 

You could see the raw, frantic emotion underneath. Last night she was powered by guilt, fear, sadness. This time you could see the anger she has been trying to push away for so long and you leave no choice to her but to unleash it. 

“You call this protection? No, Agatha. You’re just a coward, you’re terrified of feeling anything real, so you’d rather destroy the best thing that ever happened to you, to us, than actually fight for it”

“You want me to fight?” Agatha’s voice was trembling now, whether with anger or something else, you couldn’t tell. She took a step towards you, her coffee completely forgotten on the counter. 

“What would you have me do, y/n? Stand in the middle of this suite and beg you to take me back after I proved to you exactly how much I can hurt you? How can this ruin your career”

I definitely will, just ask. 

“Would that make you feel better? Would that fix the fact that I can’t even look at you without seeing the damage I’ve caused?”

I want to fix this, please, let me do it.

Her words were a confession and for a moment, you saw her, not the untouchable surgeon, not the mentor, but Agatha. The woman who was just as broken as you were.

“Will it make any difference? You keep hiding behind protocols and professional distance but you are just letting me slowly starve to death for not having you”

The tears you didn't even worry about fighting back finally spill free, the intense burn in your chest was slowly making you dizzy, hot in anger, in love. 

“I don’t know what else to do!” she cried, the words tearing from her throat “I am poison for you, there’s no use to fight for something that will probably die in the spot”

The confession hung in the air between you, beautiful and terrible. You could feel the truth of it in every fiber of your being. She loved you. God, she loved you so much you didn’t even need a verbal confession to know this was destroying her the same way it was destroying you.

Destroying each other was the only way you knew how to love.

“You’re right” you said, the anger gone and replaced by a profound, soul crushing weariness “You are poison, Agatha” 

But so do I.

The words hit her in a way you can’t imagine, deep, ugly. She flinched, letting a small wounded sound escaping her lips and you saw the hope die in her eyes, replaced by a desolate acceptance.

But you were used to this, who do you want to fool? You always knew you would end up alone, that you were never worth fighting for. Everyone leaves, everyone dies.   

You were so naive to even think this would work. How could it possibly work? After all, the two of you have been at each other’s throats from day one.

Without saying another word, you turn around and keep walking toward the door, every step you take feeling like getting you ready for execution

“Y/n…” her voice was a broken whisper behind you.

“I’ll see you at the lab, Doctor Harkness” you said without stopping. Your voice steady and  devoid of all emotion. 

When the door finally closes behind you, she’s left there standing in the middle of the room once again, the wreckage of your love scattered around her. The silence that came after was deafening and so unbearable for her that she forced her hollow body to move.

She took a deep breath, closing her eyes so hard in order to prevent the already threatening tears to spill again 

“You did it again, Agatha. Good fucking job” she says, as she pours the rest of her undrinkable coffee down the sink, the force of the motion causing a crack to form in the perfect ceramic cup.

-----

The ride to the tower was a special kind of hell. You wedged yourself into the far corner of the van, pressed against the cold glass, and stared at the city blurring past. Bucky and Kamala tried to engage you, their voices a distant, meaningless buzz. You gave short, noncommittal answers, nodding and smiling when it seemed required, but your mind was somewhere else.

Everything is fine, just another day.

It was a lie so colossal you could almost taste its bitterness on your tongue. Every time you blinked, you saw her face. 

The way it crumpled when you called her poison and how much you wanted to take it back, and at the same time, you wanted to scream it from the rooftops. You were a walking contradiction, a vessel of pure, unadulterated rage and a heart so broken it felt like it had been pulverized into dust.

Inside the tower it was like the day before, you quickly found your workstation, booted up the system, and pulled up Pepper’s scans to start to work and save your mind from any stupid thought. 

Agatha arrived ten minutes later with Strange, moving with her usual chilling efficiency, her heels clicking a steady rhythm on the polished floor, but for some reason she was a stranger wearing the face of the woman you loved.

“Alright, let’s review the vascular mapping” she said, her gaze fixed on the main screen.

You kept your eyes glued to your own monitor, your fingers flying across the keyboard as you refined the projection algorithm.

“Dr. y/l/n,” Agatha’s voice cut through the low hum of the lab “Report on the feeder vessel analysis”

You didn’t flinch at the sound of your name in her lips. Without looking up you respond her “The M2 branch is too deep for temporary clipping without significant risk. The simulation shows a 78% chance of ischemic damage to the Wernicke’s area” 

You keep your voice steady, very secure of what you are saying. There’s a moment of silence whe you finish. You could feel her eyes on you, but you refused to meet them.

“Then we adjust the approach” she said, her tone just as cold and detached “We’ll go in subtemporally to gain better access”

“That’s… a very risky move” Strange murmured, stroking his chin.

“It’s a calculated risk” Agatha countered “And it’s the best option we have”

It’s a calculated risk. 

That's what she had called your relationship, a risk she had decided was too high. You shake your head to clear your mind of that thought that’s starting to wear you down and making it impossible to concentrate when she speaks again.

“Dr. Bishop” Agatha continued, turning to Kate “I need you to model the new trajectory. Dr. Barnes, prepare the protocol for managing post-op edema. Dr. Khan, let’s run a new simulation with the adjusted angle”

She assigned tasks to everyone. Everyone but you. She had intentionally skipped over you, leaving you in a silent, pointed void. It was a reprimand, a punishment, a clear message: you were on the outside.

The humiliation burned hot and fast in your chest but you would not give her the satisfaction of seeing you crumble. 

If this was how you were going to have to face it, you would endure it. Before, it had been very difficult for you to even think of hating Agatha in the slightest; now it was all too easy. You were still hurt, and having proof of your power over her, and that will always be your greatest achievement.

Agatha may try to deny and contradict her heart, but even so, there will always be a way to remind her that you belong to each other, even if that means you’ll have to bleed before facing it.

Was it childish for the two of you to act that way? Probably, but if this is the only way, then fuck it.

“Are we doing good here, Dr. Y/n?” Kate asked sarcastically, as she approached your desk the way a predator circles its prey.

You sigh, already tired of a conversation that hasn’t even started “Yes, and I would like to continue doing this in peace”

You don’t even bother to look up from your screen to know she’s not letting it go that easily. She takes the stool next to you, ignoring your non-existent desire to continue putting up with her presence this close.

“You know” she says, her voice suspiciously low “I thought it would be harder to make this happen”

You know exactly what she means by “this” Kate wouldn’t be happy until she saw you and Agatha apart, and she’s definitely enjoying the fact that she might not even have had to do that much.

Or at least that’s what you think.

“Drop it, Kate” You say, visibly pissed off. You keep your hands on the keyboard because it's the safest way to prevent them from coming into contact with her face in a sudden and definitely painful way.

You continued typing, thinking,  doing fucking evrything you could to avoid being affected by her petty venom. 

Kate scoffs at your silence, her fingers drumming against the table in a very annoying way “I'm just saying, I don't think the complaint was even formally brought before the board. I haven't heard anything yet, which was totally predictable to be honest”

Pause. 

You stop typing, the words complain and board ringing in your ears louder. 

“I mean, obviously they wouldn't dare touch the hospital's golden goose” She keeps barking, unaware of your internal crisis.

Your breathing starts to quicken at this, the thought that the board might find out about your relationship with Agatha makes you feel sick. Not because you’re afraid of being exposed, even though you both swore you were being careful, but because your career could be at risk. 

You definitely love Agatha, but you’ve worked too hard to get where you are now. You've lost too much to get this far, and in a second, you could see it all come crashing down.

God, how stupid you were. 

Only now you realize how dangerous your little fairy tale was, and that all this time Agatha was right. Fuck.

You slowly exhale and it’s finally when Kate takes a look at your now very pale face, a mischievous smile spreads across her face, she seems to notice your surprise and the way your face foolishly gives it away through your confused and slowly shifting terrified expression. 

“Oh my god, you didn’t know about that” Kate says, enjoying every single word “I don’t know her reasons, but even I understand how fucked up that is. She really kept your future in her hands” 

You can't say a word in response, the words painfully get stuck in your throat. What does that actually mean?

Was she planning to end things anyway? Why didn't she tell you anything? God, this was exhausting, everything is so fucking exhausting right now. 

Your mind was racing, everything you’d been reading over the past hour had given way to a thousand unanswered questions. You feel like screaming, throwing yourself into traffic, or doing whatever it takes to stop this growing buzz inside your head.

Before you can even say something, Kate stands and looks at you “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, Y/n. Guess you keep losing” 

The lump in your throat feels like it’s about to burst,  you’re so nauseous that you can no longer think clearly. Standing up too quickly you cause the stool to scrape against the floor, producing an unsettling sound that makes everyone turn to your direction at the back of the room.

“I- uh, sorry” You say as everyone goes back to their work.

The only one who is still looking is Agatha, who could tell at first glance that something was happening. But against her better judgment, she stops herself from approaching you.

Her strong and intense blues locking with yours in a way that should feel like a blessing, instead, they just keep drilling into your already bleeding heart. 

You pretend to take something from the table next to yours walking right past Kate, who just rolls her eyes and retreats to her workstation. Very pleased with how little effort it takes to make you lose your temper.

After this, the tension in the lab was a living entity. For hours, the only sounds were the hum of computers, the quiet tap-tap of keyboards and the clipped exchanges between everyone. You and Agatha moved around each other like two negatively charged ions, maintaining a careful and fucking painful distance. 

Your collaboration was flawless, a terrifying ballet of pure intellect and precision, but it was devoid of any warmth. 

Tony, for all his genius, was a man who moved through life on emotion and intuition. He’d been watching Agatha all morning, noticing the subtle tells no one else would dare to look for. The way her hand, usually so steady, had a microscopic tremor when she reached for her coffee. The way her eyes kept darting to you when she thought no one was looking, a look so full of anguish it was almost a physical thing.

He caught Pepper’s eye, a silent question passing between them. Pepper, who had a PhD in reading people, gave a single, almost imperceptible nod. She’d seen it, too.

Around noon, Tony clapped his hands together breaking everyone's concentration.

“Alright, team, let’s call a tactical timeout. My brain feels like scrambled eggs and I’m not even doing the hard work” He says, a very not tired at all smile adorning his face.

“Yes” Pepper say immediately, following Tony’s plan “Lunch is on us, please”

Kamala and Bucky didn’t need to be told twice, gratefully putting down their work. You remained at your station, feigning deep concentration on a data set you’d already analyzed three times.

“Come on everyone” Tony said, his tone leaving no room for argument “Y/n, I’m afraid that's an order. And Harkness” he added, turning to her “You. Me. Pep’s office. Now”

Agatha’s head snapped up, her mask of composure slipping for a fraction of a second “Tony, I really think we should-”

“Now” Tony repeated, his voice soft but firm. He wasn’t asking.

With a tight nod Agatha followed them out of the lab and as you watched them go, your stomach was twisting into a knot.

At Pepper’s office, she gestured for Agatha to take a seat on one of the plush armchairs while Tony leaned against her desk, crossing his arms.

“Okay. So, what’s going on?” Tony started, without preamble “And don’t say ‘nothing’ because I have a highly advanced bullshit detector, and right now it’s screaming like a fire alarm”

Agatha let out a weary sigh, rubbing her temples “I- do we really have to do this? There’s a lot of work to do, everything is fine”

“Bullshit” Tony said again, though not unkindly “This has absolutely nothing to do with Peps brain. I smell something personal ”

Pepper sat on the edge of her desk, her expression gentle but piercing. She studied Agatha’s face, her eyes soft with concern “He’s right, Agatha. You seem a bit different, like you’re one wrong move away from exploding”

“I’m fine” Agatha looked away, repeating her biggest lie.

“No, you’re not” Tony says “Is this because of Rio? I know you said she came back but I thought you guys were doing fine”

“This has nothing to do with Rio. We're adults and we can get along just fine” Agatha says, the defensive tone in her voice slipping out involuntarily. 

Pepper hums then says softly “Then I think I know what this is all about”

She paused, letting the weight of the moment settle. When she spoke again, her voice was barely a whisper, but it landed with the force of a bomb.

“It’s y/n, isn’t it?”

Agatha’s entire body went rigid. Her breath hitched in a way that was both embarrassing and concerning and for a terrifying second, she looked like a cornered animal. She opened her mouth, then closed it, a silent denial dying on her lips. 

Tony’s eyes widened slightly. He’d suspected tension, a professional falling out. He hadn’t suspected… this.

Pepper just nodded, a sad, knowing smile touching her lips “Oh, honey”

That was all it took. One word, spoken with such profound empathy and the fortress Agatha had spent years building around herself crumbled. 

“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about” she whispered, the denial sounding hollow even to her own ears.

“Come on, you look at her like she’s the only person in the room” Pepper continued, her voice impossibly gentle “And you look away from her like looking at her for a second longer might break you. I saw it yesterday and the day before. I saw it just now”

Agatha did her very best not to break down but at this point it was useless. She remembered every single word you have exchanged since the first time and how now all of them sound like a scratching record.

A single tear escaped tracing a path down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away, furious at her own lack of control.

“It doesn’t matter” she choked out “I ended it. It was… unprofessional. A mistake”

“Was it?” Tony asked, his voice surprisingly soft. He’d pushed off the desk and now stood beside Pepper, a rare look of genuine concern on his face “Because the way she looks at you doesn’t seem very unprofessional. It looks like she’s in love with you”

Yes, you are. Even if you try really really hard not to.

Agatha shook her head, a bitter, humorless laugh escaping her “She’s angry. And she has every right to be. I… I hurt her. I did exactly what I always do. I sabotaged the best thing in my life because I was terrified”

“Of what?” Pepper pressed.

“Of this!” Agatha gestured vaguely, her voice cracking “Of being this! Of being so focused on someone that the rest of the world goes blurry. Of making a mistake that could cost me everything. I did it to protect her”

“Did you?” Or did you do it to protect yourself? From the idea of letting someone see all of you? The brilliant, terrifying, broken parts and all”

Agatha stared at her, utterly undone. Pepper had seen straight through her, past the surgeon, past the mentor, past the walls, and had laid her soul bare.

“You’re not protecting her, Agatha” Pepper said, her voice full of a quiet, fierce strength. “You’re punishing her. And you’re punishing yourself”

Agatha just sat there, silent. For the first time in a very long time, she felt completely and utterly lost.

But just as always, she pushed that feeling aside and went back to her usual self. There was no room for such feelings. Not when her credibility as a respectable surgeon was threatened. She took a deep breath and forced herself to get up and act as if just five minutes ago, her heart hadn't been struck with incredible force. 

“I believe we are done here, If you excuse me I’ll go back to the lab” She said, her tone composed and cold.

“Agatha” Tony said, but it was too late, she had already left the office. Tony and Pepper stayed there a little longer, thinking about how their friend was still the same stubborn woman they’d met years ago. 

She returned to her work with a renewed, chilling focus. The Agatha from moments ago was gone and replaced by a machine, more efficient and more remote than ever before. 

She addressed you only when absolutely necessary, her eyes never meeting yours for more than a second. It was a deliberate, painful act of erasure and you matched her, beat for beat. You were cold, you were precise, you were untouchable.

There was a collective sigh of relief in the room when Agatha and Strange decided the  workday was done. Back at the hotel you were packing and preparing to return to Westview the next morning, when you got a text. A group message from Tony.

Emergency dinner tonight. Our place. 7 PM. Formal-ish. Don’t be late. Your presence is not requested, it’s required.

You sigh, immediately feeling a wave of dread so profound it made you feel physically ill. A dinner. A social event. Forced proximity.

“Fucking great”

You had nothing to wear that felt appropriate, so you settled on a simple black skirt, tights and a soft purple sweater. As you applied your makeup in the bathroom,trying to hide the exhaustion you could hear Agatha moving around in her room. The soft sounds were a form of torture.

Your phone buzzed again, this time with a message from Bucky.

Bucky: you busy?

Me: nope, just stabbing my eye with the eyeliner 

Bucky: fun

Bucky: want to go downstairs for a smoke?

Me: sure, see you there

You finish your other eye and pray to every god who might be listening that Agatha isn't outside her room, so you can slip by as unnoticed as possible. Which, luckily for you, actually works.

Bucky is already waiting in the designated area in the hotel's courtyard.Looking a bit smug but still friendly.

“You clean up nice, Barnes” you tease. 

He smiles and takes a walk to show off his simple but cool outfit. You roll your eyes, shaking your head but there’s no hurt behind. 

“Love the sweater, that color looks good on you” He says as he takes your hand and spins you around.  You find it amusing rather than annoying.

“Thanks. Can I use your lighter? I think I left mine upstairs” You say as you reach for a cigarette from the metal case. 

He offers to light it for you, and after thanking him again, you take a long drag. The smoke fills your lungs in a way you know is terrible, but at the same time it calms the anxiety that has been gripping you since early this morning.

The moment you let it go, you feel as if everything that was weighing on your mind is drifting away with the smoke, you watch it dissipate, hoping that it was you the one fading away just like that. 

You breathe in again and notice the distinctive scent of the little green grass, when you turn to look at Bucky, he lets out a cough that lingers as you both laugh. 

He coughs one more time before extending his hand to offer you his perfectly rolled joint “Want some? I respect the Marlboro reds, but you look like you might need something a bit stronger”

Damn you and your fucking readable face. 

It's been so long since you did weed and the last time you had a bad experience with some edibles. But it was Billy’s fault because he omitted the fact that those delicious cinnamon cookies you devoured like a feral cat, had a tiny amount of THC that would have been fine for one or two cookies, but definitely not for almost ten.

But… It's been a long day and it’s going to be a longer night, so…

“Yeah, fuck it” You say before you can stop yourself, taking the joint from Bucky’s hand.

You take a careful drag but it hits you instantly , releasing the tick smoke along a raw cough. Bucky nods and takes back the joint to take another drag. 

“Yeah, that’s what I’m talking about” He says and you both burst into laughter then stay silent after a moment. 

Bucky is the first to break the silence “Man, I don’t want to go back yet. I know we were working anyway but- “He takes another long drag “It was good, to stay away from real life for a minute”

You nod and flick your cigarette that was already half-burned and take another drag of the joint, this time exhaling the smoke slowly, as if that would make the high kick in faster and be more effective (spoiler: it doesn’t)

Maybe if you are high enough you can survive the horrors of being trapped yet again near Agatha for god knows how long.

You find the quiet exchange between you and Bucky very pleasant. And it is until you hear the door of the patio open and Kamala’s voice pop when you come back to earth.

“There you are!” She chirps, and as she gets closer she can see the full picture of you two barely holding it.

Bucky quickly hides the rest of the joint “Heey, kid. How’s it going?”

Kamala rolls her eyes and steps out fully.

“Not a kid, and pretty cool”

She walks toward you, and you're both nervous about what she might say. She looks you over slowly, narrowing her eyes. Absolutely fucking clocking you two.

“Our ride will be here in five minutes. Maybe… you guys want to touch up your perfume before we leave?” Kamala says, with a playful little smile.

You nod quickly and start to move without looking back. You feel a bit embarrassed and don’t know why, like a kid that just got caught stealing a cookie. Bucky can’t contain the laughter anymore and burst unapologetically. 

Kamala nudges him as they start walking “You know I know what pot looks like, right?”

“Yes, unfortunately. Let’s go kid, I need to give you the talk”

Kamala frowns “The what?”

---

The Stark residence turned out to be surprisingly warm and welcoming, since you had already assumed it would be the kind of house that feels more like the interior of a luxury store than a home.

And oh boy, you were (not entirely) wrong.

You were speechless when you saw the enormous cabin, hidden deep in the thick forest. The dark wood stood out against the green of the tall pine trees surrounding it. It looked like something straight out of a lumberjack’s dream.

Agatha and Strange were already there, sitting next to Pepper and Toni on the front porch, a glass of wine in hand and deep in conversation. The unmistakable sound of Agatha’s laughter ringing in your ears.

You immediately spotted Morgan in the garden, chasing a pink paper airplane, and headed straight for her, ready to do anything to escape the suffocating pressure from the adults.

“Hey, trouble” you said, crouching down as she skidded to a halt in front of you.

“Stressed doctor!” she chirps, launching herself into your arms for a hug “You came!”

“Wouldn’t miss it” you laughed, the sound feeling foreign but genuine.

And for Agatha that was hard to not look at. She watched you effortlessly engage Morgan, your voice gentle and warm as you explained how to fold back the paper plane, the genuine smile that reached your eyes for the first time in days. Her heart, the frozen, brittle thing in her chest, began to melt. And then, it just ached.

With the memory of another small, bright-eyed kid. Nicky. His laughter, the way he would grab her hand with his tiny fingers, the way he looked at her like she was the entire world. The memory was so vivid, so painful. 

He would be a bit older than Morgan, and maybe they would have played together, shared secrets and made silly plans just like she and Tony did back then. And the thought was a dagger to the soul, a reminder of all she had lost, of all the ways she was destined to never allow herself to have happiness in her life.  

She looked at you, so natural and kind with a child, and it was too much to bear that she turned away.

“She’s good, not only as a doctor but as a person. Morgan hasn't shut up about her since yesterday” a quiet voice said behind her, Tony

“Yeah, and she deserves the world for that” she says, her voice lower now “She deserves people who don’t run away when things get hard”

“Agatha” Tony says, placing a hand on her shoulder “Don’t do this to yourself”

“I already did, twice” She says, and walks right past Tony without another word.

The atmosphere inside the cabin grows more pleasant as time goes by, with conversations all around, accompanied by soft music that sets a cozy mood. Occasionally, Morgan’s laughter filled the moments of silence. 

Dinner, as expected,  was exquisite. Pepper and Tony showed off their skills as amateur chefs, but there was nothing to complain about. 

As you took your first bite, you and Bucky exchanged a knowing glance, letting each other know that your little break at the hotel a while back had been a good idea.

The conversation flowed smoothly, considering that everyone tried their best to not talk about medicine, which for a group of six surgeons was a challenge. But this family has had enough of it, and Pepper deserves to be celebrated as the whole person she is, not being only reduced to her illness. 

“A toast” Tony said, killing the small chatter as he stood up “To this incredible and smart group of people that soon will be navigating through my just as incredible and smart wife” 

Everyone raised their glasses in agreement. Pepper takes Tony’s hand and the big smile on her face is not enough to cover the fact her eyes were already glassy, she looked up at him and then to the rest of you, mouthing a hearty thank you 

Pepper stands too, her hand still holding her husband’s “To all of you, for helping me keep causing trouble for a few more years”

You laugh softly and when the vibrant wine makes contact with your tastebuds ot feels like a moment of peace. The chatter grows, Morgan occasionally steps by to take a bite of her food only to go back to her shenanigans. The evening is drawing to a close, and everyone has settled in comfortably in the backyard. Tony, Strange, and Agatha are standing in the distance, probably measuring their egos, while Pepper, Kamala and Kate are near the bonfire keeping an eye on Morgan. 

Bucky and you get another moment to be alone talking about everything and nothing, for you it’s surprisingly getting easier and you thank every god out there for not feeling all alone without your emotional support person who is probably spoiling right now your feline daughter to the bone.

You excuse yourself and make your way back to the cabin to search for the bathroom. The dim lights inside being gentle with your already buzzing head, the effects of the weed finally wearing off, causing your mind to return to its usual state of chaos.

You open the door and find said room on your first try, almost laughing at your luck. The bathroom is quiet, tucked away from the noise outside and you didn’t know you needed this until you closed the door behind you, leaning against it for just a second longer than necessary. 

You exhale, long and slow and move to the sink, your hands resting on the edge as you stare at your reflection.There’s still a faint flush on your cheeks from the wine, from the lingering high, from everything. It’s strange how quickly the calm slips in when you’re alone, like your body doesn’t trust it enough to hold onto it outside this room. 

Agatha.

The thought comes uninvited, sharp and immediate.

You press your lips together and look away from yourself, as if you were still ashamed for what happened yesterday, the way you brought the worst of you in attempts to punish Agatha for something you can’t fully understand. Your body itches, your hands burn and your chest feels like it is about to collapse. You think you were right, that she deserves and that you are supposed to hate her,  but there’s this tiny part of you that is not ready to let go at all. 

“Stop doing that” You tell yourself, knowing you are not going to stop shit. 

You turn on the faucet, letting the cold water run over your fingers and grounding yourself in the sensation, hoping it helps a little.

You stay there longer than you need to, until your thoughts start looping again, until the quiet begins to feel less like peace and more like avoidance.

You breathe in and breathe out, then you open the door.

And what would be your life without turns and shit that keep messing with your existence? 

Agatha is waiting outside.

Effortlessly cool leaning against the wall, tying fast on her phone. When she turns to you, her eyes look impossibly blue with this lightning, her dark red lips so fucking kissable and that serious expresion that makes you crazy. 

You don’t know what to do with yourself “Uh, were you waiting for the bathroom, or…?” 

She studies you for a moment, like thinking very carefully her next words. Then straightens up and puts her phone back in the pocket of her slacks. You stay very still, thinking that the slightest movement or even the slightest sign of breathing would ruin the moment.

“Uhm, yeah. I just needed-” She says, her voice low and with a hint of nervousness. 

You can't help but be surprised that you could have such an effect on her, that the great Agatha Harkness would find it hard to find the words to speak to a mere mortal like you.

You nod, moving out of the way for her to step in “Okay, all yours” 

You keep walking until she grabs your wrist, the sudden movement making you jump. Her palm feels warm against your skin, so familiar and welcoming. But at the same time it burns, she isn't gripping you tightly, but it feels like the weight of her hand alone could break your arm.

“Wait” Agatha whispers, your back still turned at her “Please, just… wait” 

When you were little, your father taught you a trick to figure out whether what was scaring you was real or just your imagination. He would have you count to five in your head with your eyes closed; if, when you opened them, whatever was scaring you wasn’t there, then it wasn’t real and you were safe.

Right now, you wish your father were alive so you could confront him about never telling you what would happen if the thing you were afraid of turned out to be real. Because even if you count to a million, Agatha will still be there the moment you open your eyes.

“Please” she says again, softer this time. 

You close your eyes.

One, two, three.

You already know.

Four… five.

You open them and slowly, like it physically costs you something, you turn. She’s very there and too close, enough that you can see the faint crease between her brows, the one that only shows when she’s thinking too hard or feeling too much and trying to hide it. 

“What?” you ask, and you hate how sharp it comes out, how defensive. You hate that you sound like yesterday already.

Her hand drops from your wrist and you don’t like the feeling, your body is suddenly invaded by a sharp coldness .

“I-” Agatha exhales, glancing down the hall like she’s making sure no one’s listening, like this, whatever this is, needs to stay contained. 

“Can we talk?” she asks.

You almost laugh.It bubbles up, ugly and hollow, but you swallow it down because this isn’t funny. Nothing is funny when there’s internal bleeding.

“We already did that” you say instead, crossing your arms like it might hold you together “ I remember it being very clear. Very… final”

There’s a flicker in her expression, not anger or quite regret either

“I know how it sounded, but-” she says carefully.

You tilt your head “Sounded?”

Her jaw tightens just a fraction “Don’t do that, we both did some fucked up things, don’t we?”

She says this in that controlled, cold tone she uses on a typical day in the operating room. And the worst part? She’s right. To imply that what happened yesterday was a low blow might be true, but having control over your feelings for once has never felt so rewarding.

You sigh, what at first felt like confusion and despair slowly turns into the feeling that took hold of you when you decided to show her that it wouldn’t be easy to deny that you both deserve each other

You take a confident step toward her, positioning her between the doorframe and your body. She takes a deep breath, imagining that she has just reignited something inside you.

You tilt your chin up, trying to meet her devastating gaze “You don’t get to do that, make me feel bad about what I did, because deep down you know you deserved it”

Agatha’s lips part like she’s about to interrupt, but she doesn’t. That crease between her brows deepens instead. 

“You lost your privilege on handling this” You say. Your anger becoming more evident.

It was all the bad stuff on one side of the scale. Agatha’s fear, Kate’s threats, and the fact that she’s kept you hidden away too much under the pretext of protecting you. All of this only clouds your judgment even more.

The nights she spent with you when you needed her most, or the fact that she was there to pick up the broken pieces of you that you thought were already lost, none of that outweighed the rest. And you hate that nothing seems capable of fixing this.

Were you being irrational? Definitely. Would you admit it? Not a fucking chance.

Her eyes flash at that, something sharper now, something closer to the surface “You’re very good at pretending you understand everything. You think all this is just a minor bump in the road that you'll be able to get past without any trouble”

You huff a breath, something bitter possessing you “Oh, my apologies, Dr. Harkness. I forgot that you know absolutely fucking everything around here” 

“That stupid delusion of yours will be your end one day”

That lands, very very fucking hard. 

“Yesterday” she continues “you didn’t just try to hurt me. You wanted me to feel it. Every bit of it”

You swallow, forcing the tears that are already threatening to spill after the hard truth she spit on you  “Maybe I did”

“I know you did”

Your gaze flickers over her face, searching, doubting. Agatha doesn’t lie like that. Not about things that matter. Not when she looks at you like this, unguarded in a way she rarely allows. 

“And the worst part?” she adds, her voice dipping just slightly, like it’s not meant to be heard this clearly “It fucking worked”

“You’re unbelievable” you murmur, but there’s less bite in it now, just more confusion.

Her gaze rests on your lips, on the way you bite them, as if to stop the other words she’s afraid to hear from coming out of your mouth.

“Tell me something I don't already know, superstar” she says defiantly.

And it burns inside you, the way she seems completely untouched by any of this. If this is her plan for you to hate her and finally move on, it is working. 

“It wouldn't work; you'd never admit that you're afraid, that the great Agatha Harkness is a coward who isn't willing to fight. At least I know I'm a lost cause, and I accept it ” you shot back, your voice rising with a fury that had been simmering all day. 

“You weren’t protecting me, you were protecting yourself! You’re so terrified of anyone seeing the real you, the broken, grieving mess underneath all that arrogance, that you’d rather be alone than risk being known”

“Don’t you dare talk to me like that” Agatha warned, her voice dropping to a low, dangerous growl.

“Why not?” you pushed, stepping into her space “Is your fragile ego off-limits?”

The words were meant to wound, and they did. They sliced you open. But they also revealed her, completely and utterly. And in the face of her raw agony, your own anger transformed into something else, a desperate and destructive need.

“It’s never going to be fucking easy with you, isn’t it? Never” she yelled, her composure finally shattering. 

“You have no idea what it's like to try to defend everything you are, to fear that it will all come to an end because of something as simple as bureaucracy. And until you get that damn childish attitude out of your ass, you won't be able to understand” 

She says again, this time getting closer to you. Her perfume mixes with the faint smell of wine in her breath. Both of you are too far gone now, everything that used to bring you together is now replaced by this ugly and raw feeling. 

You knew you wouldn't come out of this argument unscathed, that she'd seize the opportunity to show you that you're a bundle of problems too, and that someone finally needed to put you in your place. But you're still trying to decide whether you'd rather she did it or someone else.

“You’re right” you whispered, defeated and so fucking tired of this “I don’t. But I know what it feels like to love you. And that’s its own special kind of hell”

Agatha stands still.

Not entirely, her chest is still rising and falling a little too quickly, her fists clenched tightly at her sides. But something inside her has come to a halt. It’s not that your words haven’t affected her; rather, they’ve cut deep, since this isn’t the first time you’ve made that clear to her.

And then, out of all her restraints, she's on you. When her lips make contact with yours ,it wasn’t a kiss; it was an attack. Your hands fisted her blazer, pushing her inside the bathroom. 

Your lips met hers with equal fury, a desperate, angry battle for dominance. It was all the pain, all the grief, all the love you couldn’t speak, poured into a single, violent act.

The door clicked shut behind you. The outside world ceased to exist; her hands were everywhere, and when they brushed the hem of your sweater, she paused the kiss and looked at you, waiting for confirmation.

You shut down your brain for a moment, already lost in the haze. Mistake counter gone broke, fuck it. 

You nod, and her nails dig deep into your skin. It wasn’t about pleasure, but about punishment. It was about making each other’s lives miserable, but those plans went south when she slipped her hand under your skirt making you shiver. 

And then, when she started pulling down your tights and panties, you couldn't hold back that moan of lust that betrayed you in the most awful way.

“What was that, princess? I thought you were mad at me” She says in a defiant, taunting tone.

You gasp, her hand moving back up to your aching spot finding you embarrassingly wet. Agatha’s face says everything, The mischievous smile that appears in her face giving her the first win. 

You look her in the eye, playing along with her little petty game “And what are you going to do about it, Agatha?”

She scoffs, and without another word she spun you around. Pressing you hard against the sink, the cold marble making contact with your skin makes you shiver. Your nipples noticeably harden through the lace of your bra. You could see yourself in the mirror in front of you; your hair messy for the movement, your cheeks were much more flushed than they had been moments ago, and Agatha standing imposingly behind you.

“Is this what you wanted?” she growled, her hand ghosting between your thighs without making any contact yet “To feel something?”

You don't answer; instead, you shut your eyes tightly. Your anger is intense, but honestly, your desire is much stronger.

Her free hand flies to your hair, taking a fistful of it and yanking it with enough force to make you open your eyes “Answer me”

You challenge, looking directly into those beautiful, deadly blue eyes through the mirror.

“Will it make you hard if I say yes?” 

She smiles and bites her lower lip, her hand caressing your thigh, fingertips moving closer to where you need them. 

You take a sharp intake of breath when her fingers part your folds, finally making contact with your clit and expertly circling it before plunging inside. The sensation was electric, a white-hot jolt that shot through your entire body. 

“Fuck!  Agatha, please” You cry, your hands gripping with force the edge of the sink, your knuckles already white from the pressure.

She presses her body against yours. Her pace never slows down, in a way that is both delightful and devastating. She finally lets go of your hair and brushes it aside, only to move dangerously close to your neck. Her hot breath on your skin makes you lose your mind, though that doesn't prepare you for what happens next.

“Please what? Use your words, smart girl” She says as she buries her finger deeper, the pressure building inside you makes your legs tremble. 

You push your hips back without answering back, until her hand rests on her leg and creating the perfect angle for you to slide up and down, a desperate whimper escapes your lips. 

She groans and the feeling of her fingers sliding out of you makes you whine, you turn around quickly to face her “No no, please. I’m sorry, please”

She takes her fingers coated in your wetness and brings them to her mouth, she runs them down her lips before opening her mouth and presses them into her tongue, then closes it around them and sucks them clean until release them with a wet pop.

“I hate you” you gasped at the filthy sight. Your voice breaks as her hips press against yours.

“That was already stated. Now be a good girl and tell me, what do you want?” She says, her hands coming up to rest on your hips. Her fingers draw circles in your soft skin. 

This would be a good time to leave things just as they were yesterday, only this time, you’d be the one left unsatisfied and really pissed off. But honestly? You’re already sick and tired of all this.

You respond by placing your hands on her hips, unfastening the belt with clumsy and frantic movements, the soft and expensive piece of fabric blocking your way in. When it is finally removed and pooling around her ankles you place your hands in her belly. The feeling is always the same, you love her softness, the scars that are present as a sign of never giving up. You hook your fingers in the hem of her lacy underwear and at the same time she brings her hands to your face, forcing you to look at her. 

And you do, because there's nothing in this world that can compare to looking at her under the dim light, to studying the lines in her face, the shape of her precious nose and the way her hair cascades around her face. It is so intimate and devastating.

She gets closer and places a soft kiss on your forehead. Then one of her hands travels down slowly until it finds yours and holds yours with force, guiding you where she needs you. And fucking hell, she does.  

She helps you take off her underwear, then brings your hand to her mouth, taking two of your fingers and sucking them just the way she did with hers moments before. The feeling of her hot and wet tongue makes you dizzy. She keeps them for a few seconds, then guides them back to her aching spot. 

She throws her head back, closing her eyes when your wet skin makes contact with hers. She can’t hide the fact she was waiting for this too.

“We’re playing with fire, darling” she gasps.

You push your fingers deeper inside her, forcing her to bite her lip in an attempt to stifle her moans.

“I don’t mind getting a little burned, baby”

That’s all it takes for her to slide her hand between your legs again. You both position yourselves so you can move comfortably, though you remain leaning against the cold marble of the sink; this serves as a support to bear the weight of both your bodies.

“Call me like that again” Agatha cries as she keeps building the pace. 

“No” You answer with a ragged breath. 

“Do it” she says as she fists your hair again “Fucking do it”

You were both moving against each other, a frantic, desperate rhythm of anger and need, your breaths mingling and eyes locked in a battle of wills.

“I- fuck, make me” You say.

She responds pumping faster, her thumb circling your clit in a way that makes you see stars. Then press her lips against yours, you open your mouth welcoming her, her tongue sliding inside very easily, like you’ve been waiting for ages. The kiss is nothing but pure fire and rage, both of you bite without fear. Agatha's lipstick smeared across your faces, as if it were a bloody scene.

Agatha lets out a loud moan when your fingers hit her soft spot, and it quickly dies when she hides her face in your neck, muffling the sound while she kisses your collarbones. Both of you pick up the pace, making it increasingly impossible for you to stay quiet.

“You are a fucking bitch” You say suddenly, capturing her attention.

“Darling, just remember you are the one fucking this bitch. I’m pretty sure that makes you one too” She choked out, her evidently releasing closer and your own coiling tight in your belly.

“Guess we are soulmates after all, isn’t it?” 

A throaty and breathless laugh takes over her “Well, you- fuck fuck don’t stop, I’m so close” 

“Wasn’t planning to” You say, kissing her neck as you can feel her clenching around your fingers. 

Just the idea of this alone puts you on the brink of collapse. You keep pimping your fingers and she mirrors your movements, both in a race of taking the other to the edge. 

“Come on, superstar” Agatha whispers in your ear, making you shiver. Your legs are about to fail you “Come for me”

As a command, your body responds to her. Just the way it always will.

Your release doesn’r come gentle. Instead, it is just a violent, shattering crash. She follows you instantly and just as yours, hers was an orgasm ripped from the depths of your shared pain. A convulsive, soul-deep release that left you both trembling and breathless. 

You stayed there for a long moment, your bodies still joined, your foreheads pressed together, the only sound your ragged gasps for air.

The kisses that followed were softer now, but no less intense. They were slow, deep, and full of a sorrow so profound it felt like a mourning. You tasted her tears, and she tasted yours. You kissed until your lips were swollen and numb, until the anger had burned itself out, leaving nothing but the hollow, aching truth.

When you pulled back you looked at her and her soft and perfect flushed face and smeared lipstick that you cleaned carefully. Then you felt a wave of despair so deep it was so strong it almost made you want to throw up.

“This can’t happen again,” she said as she smoothed out her clothes, erasing all traces of evidence as if she were at a crime scene.

And to be honest, it was. 

Because you were about to kill the only thing you had left, the last shred of hope for both of you.

You mimic her movements, pull up your tights and pick up your sweater from the floor. A wave of anger and shame begins to well up inside you. But this time, you respond with the same cold, calculated indifference. 

“Yes, doctor Harkness” you say, looking directly at her stupidly perfect face “Never again”

It was a promise that would have to be sealed with blood to be valid, but even so, you know that would be too difficult. But in the wreckage of that small room, with the taste of each other still on your lips, it was the only thing you had left to hold onto.

And this time, you finally make peace with it...

~

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