#the darkhold diaries

[p-taryn-dactyl]

i get liking a character a lot but if yall shit on the agatha harkness show bc of the chance wanda won’t be on it- that’s just stupid. it’s not wanda’s show, not everything is about her alright? if she does show up, that’s cool but im watching for agatha bc she can bring so many new things to the mcu

[billykcplan]

Kathryn Hahn as Agatha Harkness and Joe Locke as "Teen" in the first look at "Agatha" spinoff.

[cissa-calls]

Countdown to Agatha: Day 757

Natasha: “You’re a morosexual, just accept it!”

Wanda: “A what?”

Natasha: “A morosexual - it means you’re only attracted to morons”

Wanda: “I am not!”

Natasha: “Really?” *points to Y/N and Agatha*

Agatha and Y/N: *trying to slide down the banister of a three story spiral staircase*

Y/N: “If Anna did it in the opening song of Frozen, then SO CAN I” *slips off and cascades down an entire story*

Agatha: “HAHAHA” *slips and falls on top of them* “OOF”

Natasha to Wanda: “You’re doing a terrible job beating the allegations”

[ellastone-olsen]

Undisclosed desires - Agatha Harkness

DO NOT COPY ANY OF MY WORKS. MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY

Summary: Agatha is your mother's best friend with whom you like to spend time. Everything is great if you don’t remember about your little (big) crush on her. What if one movie night something doesn't go as usual?

Pairing: moms best friend!Agatha Harkness × f!reader

Warnings: NSFW, dom!agatha, sub!reader, age gap (A45 R21), mommy kink, face sitting (A), thigh riding (R), masturbations (R), little stalking i think, pet names, oral (both), a little fluff

DISCLAIMER: ENGLISH ISN'T MY FIRST LANGUAGE SORRY FOR GRAMMAR OR SPELLING MISTAKES

Word count: 2.7k

AN: hi guys this is my first work in English and the first work that I generally post on tumblr. I hope you'll enjoy <3

Agatha met your mother when you were just over 18. It was a typical weekend when the older woman walked into your house, talking sweetly with your mother. Out of curiosity, you went downstairs from your room; honestly, you didn’t often have any guests in your house after your parents’ divorce.

When you appeared in the kitchen, Agatha had her back to you, your mother was the first who notice your presence. "Oh my god Y/N you scared me! You can't walk so quietly!" Agatha immediately turned to your mother’s screams. The first time you looked at her, you forgot how to breathe. She seemed beautiful, even attractive, you of course knew about your “mommy issues” but how quickly your admiration for the woman grew into a little crush... you knew it wasn't right.

But that didn’t stop you from finding her social media “I’m just curious to know more about her” you told yourself, of course that was partly true. It started as a sweet, innocent thoughts about her beautiful curly hair, blue eyes and the sweet smile that she gave you when she came to visit and the three of you were sitting in the kitchen. “Y/N, you’ve already entered your second year of college, how are your studies?” she asked either out of politeness or out of pure curiosity. You were always happy to answer any of her questions, and then sneakily watch her facial expressions and gestures while she told your mother something about her failed Tinder dates. Deep inside you were jealous and hoped that these dates would remain a failure.

Later your relationship became closer one. This happened after about a year of her frequent visits in your house. At first sight it looked like she was your aunty and you were her favorite niece. At least that's what it looked like to your mother. Considering that Agatha did not have children (you also learned this from her social media), she was happy to spend time with someone who wasn't your mother. So your phrases like “Agatha and I are going to the mall today” or “I’ll stay at Agatha’s for the night” were not something surprising. Your mother was glad that you were spending your free time with a person whom she could trust and know that everything would be okay with you, even though you are already 19.

You loved staying at Agatha’s house, looking at her in her home clothes, and in the morning waking up and hearing “I made you a breakfast, superstar” by the way she cooks divine. At each of these weekends, you were talking (sometimes she tried to ask you about your possible boyfriends or girlfriends, which made you blush and go away from the topic), cooking some crisps and towards the end of the night, sitting down to watch movies on her big plush sofa. “Aggie, I’m cold,” you said after which you moved closer to her and hugged her in secret dying from such closeness.

Even later, you caught yourself having terrible frank thoughts about her. They fell on you like a bolt from the blue. So once again going to her Facebook and opening a new photo you began to look at it more carefully than always. It was an ordinary photo where she stood in a black light dress with straps with a V-shaped neckline, holding her hand to her face, covering her smile and the caption “at home you can look the way you want😘.” The focus of attention first moved to her lips, then dropped to a thin hand with a neat black manicure, thoughts concentrated on each of the fingers, about how you could... Even lower to the neckline on her dress which opened up a view of her breasts but left room for imagination, the light fabric did not hide the outline of her nipples and then...

You were already lying on the bed in your room, your mother had long gone to bed. The same photo of Agatha was open on your phone while your fingers traced circles on your clit. Then they moved lower, collecting abundant wetness at the entrance, and when one finger entered you and your gaze was again drawn to the photo on the phone your back arched. You imagined that it was Agatha doing all these things to you; the second finger slipped inside filling you so well and the pace increased. All that was heard in the room was shaky breathing and a quiet whine, “Fuck Aggie...yes that’s it, yes mommy please,” the other hand came down to rub the clit and then it happened. You saw stars looking at the woman's photo, wishing that she would shut you up with a kiss now. When your breathing evened out, you took your phone and typed one message, “Tomorrow is the weekend, can I come over for the night?”

Saturday was your favorite day of the week because Agatha wasn’t at work like on weekdays and you could spend time together. Right now you were walking through the parking lot to her car so that she could take you two to the cafe that you had been telling her about for a long time. "How are you doing, superstar?" The woman asked while watching the road. You loved that cute little nickname she gave you so much. “Well, in general, everything is fine, except for small problems with writing a thesis, you know, it turns out to be not easy I’m very tired” you said and felt her hand gently covering yours and squeezing. Raising your eyes, you were met by her familiar smile, “You can handle everything, you know that you can always ask me for help?” you just nodded, and the older woman continued to watch the road.

The day passed too quickly when in the evening the two of you walked into Agatha’s spacious but cozy apartment. "So I think that after such an eventful day we can immediately move on to watching a movie, how do you look at it, superstar?" You went to wash your hands and called out to her from the bathroom, “As much as you want, I’ll like any of your ideas. For now, I’ll go change clothes and come back to you,” you said, wiping your hands and taking your bag with things.

There are two bedrooms in Agatha's apartment , one for her and one for guests. You were always located in the second one but more than once you were just a guest in the older woman’s bedroom. Speaking as a “guest” we can say that you just came in a couple of times to find out how long it would take her to get ready and briefly examined the interior. All you remembered was the purple tones of the room, a large bed, a chest of drawers with a bunch of jewelry and cosmetics on it, and above that was a regular oval mirror. Apparently there were also a couple of intricate paintings and a bedside lamp. You respected this part of the woman’s personal space and did not poke your overly curious nose into it.

Your bag was thrown on the floor of the room that had already become yours, your street clothes were scattered on the bed, your makeup was washed off and you were already wearing the soft plush pajamas that Agatha had given you last Christmas. “I’m here,” you called out as you returned to the room, where the older woman had already carefully prepared snacks for the movie and selected a two-hour thriller for tonight. “Come here,” Agatha patted the spot on the couch next to her and you landed there, covering yourself with the blanket and resting your head on her shoulder.

The movie went quickly and you didn’t notice how you had already started to fall asleep when a sharp poke in your side woke you up, “Hey don’t sleep, you’ll still have time for this tomorrow,” Agatha said grinning. You jumped up sharply which made her laugh. Here on the TV screen there is a chase, explosions, the main character miraculously escapes when suddenly..."OH MY GOD" you screamed and crawled with your head under the blanket when moans came from the TV speakers and a sex scene appeared on the entire screen in front of your eyes. You weren’t ready to see this right here right now, especially in the company of an older woman, and you behaved like a blushing virgin. Agatha’s laughter came from above, “Come on Y/N, you’d think you’ve never seen anything like this before. Get out of there”. The blanket was thrown off you and a picture of naked people appeared before your eyes again. Your eyes widened as you looked from the TV to Agatha and back. This whole situation has made your cheeks warm up and you can already feel a faint pulsation between your legs.

“Oh, is it really such a small thing that has embarrassed you so much, superstar, you’re already a big girl, why are you blushing so much? Or maybe... oh..” the woman looked at you more carefully, studying how quickly your chest rises and falls, noticing how you begin to squirm in place. The gears in her head are spinning intensely and a thought arises.“Oh sweet girl, let me help you. Come here,” the woman moves you closer to her, squeezing her thigh between your legs, encouraging you to ride her. You're about to explode. “Aggie, what are you doing? What..” you are stopped by her hand covering your cheek, “Oh baby you have now confirmed my suspicions on this matter,” your heart is about to jump out of your chest, “What do you mean, Aggie?” The woman moves you closer and already runs her lips along your neck to your ear and whispers, “About your little crush. Did you think I wouldn’t notice this? Or maybe I’m too dumb and won’t put two and two together mmm?” You pull back to look at her dumbfounded. What's happening now? Does she want you too? Did she know all along? A swarm of thoughts race through your head as her hand grabs your hair and pulls you back towards her. “You’re thinking too loudly honey, let mommy think for you.” The nickname she gave herself completely drives you insane and you groan. “Oh fuck” comes out of your mouth.

The woman laughs and lowers her lips to your pulse point. Her hands grab your hips, encouraging you to grind against her thigh. When you do what she wants Agatha looks up from your neck, “Such a good girl you’ve had a crush on me for a long time, haven’t you? I bet you’ve been thinking about this moment. Tell mommy, am I right Y/N?” Your breathing is unsteady and you feel like your underwear is hopelessly wet, the thoughts in your head are confused. "Mmmh yeah you're right." The answer seems to suit Agatha as her lips immediately find yours in a careless kiss and your whole world explodes. The woman’s hand reaches under the elastic band of your pants and she strokes you through your underwear, feeling how wet you are. With such contact you moan into her mouth and beg, “Oh Fuck Mommy please please I need more.” Agatha shushes you and takes her hand out of your pants "Hush baby, you'll get what you want but first mommy needs to cum. Can you do that for me? Make mommy cum and I'll return the favor."

She pulls you encouraging you to get off of her and begins to undress until she is left in only black underwear. You stop her hands when her fingers cling to the edge of her panties. “I want to help you. Can I?” She nods and you kneel in front of her, taking off an item of clothing and seeing how her sticky wetness stretches. You start biting and sucking on her inner thighs and are almost to the top when she stops you. “No, not like that, lie down on your back.” You do as she says and she ride you, moving higher up to your head, “I want to sit on your pretty face baby, will you let mommy ride your face?” Your pupils dilate as you nod impatiently "Please." Agatha lowers her dripping pussy onto your mouth and you suck and lick her clit, and then push your tongue into her hole, causing the woman to arch and move her hips. “Oh god that's such a good girl. You're going to make mommy cum baby. Mommy's gonna cum all over your face." These words turn you on more and you start working on her pussy harder until the woman lets out her last moan as she cums into your mouth. She continues to sit on you while you lazily lick her clean, and then stands up and grabs your legs, opening them wide.

Pants with panties tossed somewhere to the side, the sweater is also pulled off your body and you lie in front of her completely naked. “Fucking god you’re even more prettier than I imagined”. Agatha mutters and turns you over so you’re sitting on her lap again. Your breasts are right in front of her face and she takes one nipple into her mouth while she roughly squeezes your thighs, feeling your wetness on her leg. You hold her shoulders with your hands and stand up. “Please Aggie, I need to cum so bad.” Agatha releases her nipple from her mouth and growls “Wrong name.” Your forehead presses against her shoulder as you whimper “Please mommy make me cum.”

She spreads the wetness all over your pussy and teases your clit. Two fingers circle at your entrance and she pushes them inside, to which you moan and bite her shoulder. "Fuck, you're so tight, what if I add another one? You're so wet you can take it can't you baby?" You hum into her shoulder in agreement and three fingers slip inside “Ride me” Agatha takes your waist with her free hand, helping you move and you start bouncing on her “Mommy I’m so full. Feel so good” you moan. The room is filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin and the smell of sex. Incomprehensible whimpers and requests not to stop escape your mouth while you try to push yourself deeper onto Agatha’s fingers. Your hand reaches for your clit and draws circles on it. Abundant wetness flows down the older woman’s hand and she feels your walls squeezing around her. "Mommy I'm going to cum. Oh God I'm going to cum Aggie, mommy don't stop please." When Agatha's fingers deliciously hit that right spot inside you over and over again, when you hear "That's such a good girl. Cum for your mommy, cum all over my fingers baby" it happens and you explode, cumming on top of her. Agatha finds your lips and pulls you into a kiss, brushing the sticky hair from your forehead and whispering how well you did for her.

After a minute, you catch your breath and get off of her, lying down next. You are silent. Agatha is silent. You don’t believe what just happened and how this is even possible. The gears in your head start working again and you try to decide what to do next. She wanted you, does this mean that your feelings are mutual or was it just sex for one time? A soft blanket covers your naked body and a hand strokes your shoulder. You hesitantly raise your head to Agatha, she is the first to break the silence.

"You're thinking too loudly again, superstar." Her hand gently strokes your cheek. "I understand your doubts and fears, baby. Let's just go to bed for now, do you agree?" You nod and get out of bed still in the blanket, taking your pajamas with you. Your legs slowly drag you into your bedroom as Agatha’s question hangs in the air. "Where are you going?" She gently hugs you by the shoulders, leads you into her bedroom and lays you on a soft, large bed where you fall into a calm, deep sleep.

[unhealthyobsessionslol]

October is going to be craaaazy!!!🥵

- Heartstopper Season 3

- Joe Locke in "Agatha: Darkhold Diaries"

- Kit Connor in "A Cuban Girl's Guide to Tea and Tomorrow"

- Kit Connor in "Romeo and Juliet"

I'm going to die.🫠

[bestwitchsam]

[picasso22]

September and october are gonna be very busy for Joe with the Agatha release and then Heartstopper 🥳

Good reasons to smile 😋

[sl-ut]

Hello there ;)! I have a smutty Agatha Harkness x reader request ☺️😈 so Agatha eating Reader and Reader is exhausted after coming but Agatha wants to continue, she gets impatient and makes a magic strap appear that she can use on reader

when in westview

pairing: agatha harkness x fem!reader

description: agatha’s gonna be in westview for a while, so why not take advantage of her apprentice’s memory loss? (set around wandavision ep.5)

warnings: SMUT!!! (mdni), swearing, unspecified legal age gap, reader is under mind control, THIS IS ENTIRELY CONSENSUAL, no use of y/n (for once lol)

words: 2.8K

date posted: 3/3/24

Agatha really didn’t think she would be stuck in Westview for this long. Sure, she knew it would be a few days for Wanda to come up from her own mind control, but she really wasn’t expecting to have to play babysitter every other day. She barely made it to the end of each episode without breaking out of her role and just using her powers to dig into Wanda’s mind and force her to figure things out. 

The only consolation that she had was the fact that she was able to bring her apprentice into the Hex with her. Initially, she’d intended to leave her behind, but the young woman is just as hard headed as her master and refused to let Agatha away from her for even a minute, even if it meant that she would be under Wanda Maximoff’s mind control. At least Agatha was able to take her out of it for a few minutes at a time, but did it very conservatively to avoid causing too much stress on her brain. 

Instead, she found some comfort in knowing that she was just next door in the small blue bungalow, always up bright and early to tend to her flower beds and fending off all of Westview’s finest bachelors, all vying for a chance to take the finest (and only) bachelorette in town, all blissfully unaware that she spent every other night with her face pressed into the silk sheets of the married woman next door. 

Ralph was collateral, of course. At first, she’d considered letting him out in public, but after spending just a few minutes in the house with him she’d decided to send him off to be locked in his own little dweller, ready to perform when needed. At least others knew he was there, all she needed to do was say his name once or twice an episode and that was that. Plus, she was actively spouting about how lousy he was, so it made more sense why she was spending any time that she wasn’t undermining Wanda’s magic with the her young, single neighbour, always wandering over for a cup of sugar that took them far too long to dig out of the cupboard. 

She sort of liked this version of her apprentice. Not as much as she liked the real her, but it was almost cute to see how innocent Wanda had made her; she was ditzy, in a cute way, she was so friendly to everyone, and it was hard for Agatha not to enjoy her doe eyes staring up at her all teary and sweet sounds of pleasure falling from her lips. She was everything that she wasn’t in real life, and though Agatha wouldn’t give that up for the world, she knew this wasn’t permanent and thought of it as a bit of roleplay to spice things up rather than a loss of someone she cared about. She liked the way the house was always spotless, and how she was constantly dressed in dresses you might only see in vintage catalogues (except for when she was weeding her constantly immaculate garden, of course), and how could she not like the constant variety of baked goods she had in her home? She’d almost growled at one of Wanda’s boys for reaching for a second cookie one time. 

It was also nice that she didn’t ask questions. One of the reasons that she had initially wanted to leave her behind was that she was too damn nosy. Was she a good witch with plenty of potential? Yes. Was she a hard headed young woman that didn’t know how to follow directions? Also yes. Agatha knew that she would somehow end up getting in her way, and she couldn’t risk her letting something slip to Wanda. Agatha was able to do her job with her around and not have to worry about her going off and accidentally ruining her plan.

Like now, as Agatha muttered to herself as she hunched over one of her many spellbooks in her basement, she hardly even noticed the padding of bare feet coming down the stairs, nor did she notice the sheet-covered figure creeping up behind her until the sheet extended around her as she curled her arms around her waist. Agatha sighed, leaning back into the embrace and revelling at the feeling of her bare breasts pressing against her, only Agatha’s own shirt acting as a divider between her back and the perky nipple that had undoubtedly hardened due to the cool temperature of the basement. 

“Aggie,” she whined, chin coming to rest on her shoulder. 

Agatha smirked. She’d insisted that she call her that, not liking when she called her Agnes (though, as far as she was aware, that was her name), but she also couldn’t have her going around referring to her as Agatha. 

“Come back to bed, it’s late.”

The brunette turned her head to peek at the girl, “I know, I know. Thought I could slip away for a few minutes, guess I forgot how needy you are, huh?”

She turned her head down and playfully sunk her teeth into her shoulder, only pulling away when Agatha barked out a stern hey!

“Go back to bed, sweetness,” Agatha pressed a kiss to her temple, “I’ll be up in a minute.”

Those doe eyes appeared, and Agatha knew that she was gonna miss them when they were both back to normal, “You promise? You’re not just saying that to get rid of me?”

Agatha snorted out a laugh, “Please, I know you’ll be back if I’m not up there in ten.”

“Would you make it five if I told you I’m not that sleepy yet?”

Agatha raised her brow, “Again? Was three times not enough for you?”

She shrugged, “Four might do it. Or five…or six.”

Agatha was quiet for a moment, an uncharacteristically adorable pink hue covering her cheeks as a very detailed image of her body filled her mind, how practised she was in giving Agatha exactly what she wanted, her figure easily malleable under her touch. 

“I’ll be up in five.”

Five minutes had come and gone three times over by the time that Agatha finally made her way out of the basement, rubbing at her eyes as she adjusted to the brighter lighting of the kitchen. She shook her head as she came across the limp, abandoned sheet near the top of the stairs, chuckling as she scooped it up and continued to the bedroom. 

She could easily tell what was going on inside before she even pushed the door open. She could easily make out those desperate whines and whimpers of pleasure that she’d been so well acquainted with, even before coming to Westview. Agatha remained in the doorway for a moment, silently taking in the sight before her and thanking whatever gods or beings that had allowed her to witness such a thing.

She was laying horizontally on the bed, her head pressed into one edge on the mattress as her body spread itself width-wise, her feet planted and curled into the opposite edge. Her head was tilted to the side, eyes closed and lips parted to release her little sighs, back arched and hips grinding into her own fingers with an unsteady rhythm. She’d been pampered by Agatha, scarcely having to resort to such a thing without her partner present, so much that the scene was almost pitiful to watch–she seemed inexperienced, brows sitting low over her eyes and the corners of her lips curling down in frustration as tried to mimic Agatha’s movements with her fingers, not to mention the pathetic sounds leaving her lips. 

Finally taking pity on the girl, she made her presence known, “I see you’ve taken it upon yourself to start without me?”

Her eyes snapped open, a flicker of embarrassment crossing her features before it was promptly replaced by another doe-eyed look of feigned innocence as her lips puckered in a pout, “You said five minutes.”

“I know, baby,” Agatha moved further into the room, gently closing the door behind her as she rounded the foot of the bed, standing over her figure and staring down at where her fingers continued to plug her tight little hole, “‘M sorry. I was thinking of making it up to you, but now that I see how impatient you were, I’m not so sure.”

Agatha had never seen anyone move so fast as she watched her fingers slide out and away from her heat, almost as if she was trying to undo her own actions. 

“Please, Aggie,” She whined, pushing herself up on her elbows, “I need you so bad. I couldn’t do it without you.”

“No?” Agatha mocked, catching her wrist in her grasp and dragging her hand up to inspect her slick-covered middle and ring fingers, “These fingers not long enough for you, baby?”

Agatha wrapped her lips around her two digits, tongue sliding between and around them to collect every drop of her slick. She grinned wickedly around them at the wanton moan that she released, hips lifting off the mattress and tilting towards her. 

“No, not as good as yours,” She whined, “No one’s are.”

“Now that’s what I like to hear,” Agatha released her fingers, dropping her wrist back to the mattress and instead moving to glide her hands up her thighs, gently massaging the plump flesh nearest to her core, only barely grazing the thick thatch of hair on her pubis. “Maybe I will be nice to you after all.”

She barely gave her a moment to process her words before her long middle finger was sliding into her dripping heat, thumb coming to massage her clit with tight circles. Agatha smirked to herself, easily sliding her ring finger in as well thanks to the excess slick that had dripped out of her from the earlier hours of the evening. 

She curled her toes into the mattress, hips slightly pulling away from her touch. She smiled sheepishly at her, “‘M sensitive.”

Agatha chuckled, “I know you are, pretty, but you asked for this, so stay still and let me make you feel good.”

She nodded, legs bending at the knees and pulling them up to press into her chest. Her eyes rolled back as Agatha’s fingers slotted easily against the gummy spot deep inside of her, a soft sigh of relief falling from her lips at the soft tickling sensation, quickly followed by a moan from the deepest part of her throat. 

Agatha pushed herself forward, fingers still moving at an agonising yet forceful pace while her free hand pressed into the mattress next to her head. Leaning her body over top, she took in the sight of her heaving breasts, jiggling with every punch of her fingers and rising with every gasping breath. Agatha spared a moment to drop down, taking one of her nipples into her watering mouth and sucking. Her lips struggled not to curl into a wicked grin at the shocked cry as she gently clamped her teeth down on the sensitive nub.

“So responsive,” Agatha hummed, “Almost like you’ve already gotten your fill tonight. Maybe I should stop–”

“Please,” she whined, glossy eyes staring down at her wildly, “Please don’t.” 

Agatha chuckled, “I won’t baby, as long as you keep making those pretty noises.”

The brunette slowly dragged her tongue from her breast, up her sternum, throat, and finally stopped as she came across her swollen and spit-covered lips. 

“Open your mouth,” she spoke, any sweetness that her voice had held before completely vanishing.

She complied, wordlessly parting her lips just far enough that Agatha could get a clear view of the inside of her mouth, tongue lolling out in anticipation.

This pulled another laugh out of her, “Jesus, look at you already for it. I’ve made you such a little slut for me, haven’t I?”

She didn’t give her a moment to respond before she was hurling a fat wad of spit onto her tongue, fingers quickly coming to press into the pink muscle and massage the saliva into it, grinning widely as she watched the girl eagerly swallow the fluid on command. 

“Good girl,” The brunette woman muttered under her breath at the tell-tale sensation of her inner walls clenching around her fingers, though she made no effort to slow down or pull out and allow her to come down from the high, instead pushing her fingers even faster with the encouragement of the gushing liquid that dribbled down onto the sheets. 

Number five had come even easier than the fourth, and Agatha felt an overwhelming sense of pride fill her chest as she finally withdrew her digits from deep inside her. Weakly, the girl reached down and took hold of Agatha’s wrist, pulling her hand up until her fingers were able to slip past her lips. She moaned at the taste of her own juices, hips wiggling subconsciously at the taste.

“You okay, sweetness?” Agatha pressed a sweet kiss to her cheek, fingers massaging small circles into the plush of her belly as she caught her breath. The girl nodded, returning the affection. “Good.”

Agatha pushed herself up, slowly tugging at the tied belt of her silk robe before letting it slide down her shoulders and finally drop to the floor. The younger woman took in her nude form with an appreciative stare, until her eyes flickered to the place between her legs, where a shocking sight stood at full mast.

“Aggie–”

“Shh,” Agatha soothed, “Turn over, I’ll make you feel good.”

“I–” She couldn’t take her eyes off of the obnoxiously large cock, visibly throbbing with excitement. It looked so real, aside from the fact that it was glowing a slightly purple hue. It was about seven inches, thick, and nestled in a thick patch of brown hair at its very base. As sensitive as she was, she still couldn’t bring herself to say no, shakily rolling onto her belly.

“Good girl,” Agatha praised once more, hands holding her hips tightly as she pulled them into the air, taking no time to slowly slip inside and inch her way further and further into her warm, tight walls before stopping to allow for her to adjust to the size. “How’s that feel?”

The girl whimpered out an unintelligible response as Agatha's hips pressed firmly into the fat of her ass, fingers curling into the sheets to keep herself grounded.

Agatha took that as a sign, making the first shallow pump of her hips. The sound that it pulled from the younger woman was nothing short of pornographic, encouraging another firmer thrust until her throbbing tip was brushing the entrance of her cervix, and within minutes she was humping her lover’s ass at a bruising pace. 

Filthy sounds escaped both women, annunciated grunts from Agatha and slurred words of encouragement from the other. 

“Ag–” The younger woman arched her back, unsure of whether to push against Agatha further or to pull away as her orgasm erupted without notice, gushing out of her abused hole and onto Agatha’s lap messily. 

“There it is,” Agatha gripped her ass cheeks with each of her hands, squeezing and spreading them in unison with her thrusts, finding herself on the brink of her own climax at the sight of her tightest little hole, glistening with her own juices, “Now be a good girl and let me use you, yeah?”

One hand moved up to press against the back of her head, forcing her face further into the mattress as her hips picked up their pace, her thick cock throbbing with the oncoming gush of thick white cum, slowly dripping out of her and sliding down her thighs as Agatha fucked through it, head tossed back in euphoria. 

When all was said and done, Agatha carefully tucked her lover into the bed, hand stroking her hair so carefully and with such contrast to how aggressively she had just been pinning her head to the mattress. The younger woman sighed, eyes fluttering closed as she snuggled into Agatha’s chest. 

“Don’t get rid of that thing,” She mumbled mindlessly into Agatha’s milky white flesh, “I’m gonna suck you dry in the morning.”

[pigeonp0st]

heelloo!! uhm i was thinking could u write an agatha harkness x reader one with Agatha sees r with another person (just as closer friends but Agatha doesn’t know it). Then Agatha invites r to her house and Agatha has to bite down on their lip so hard whenever r talks about the other person, angst with happy ending please (and if your are comfortable, maybe you can add smut)?

Agatha Harkness x Reader

Summary:

Agatha gets jealous of your relationship with Wanda. Emotion ensues.

Warning:

Jealousy, angst (not really)

Notes:

Thanks for the request! I wrote this pretty fast and have not even read it over once…I’ll probably fix it up later…anyways! Hope you enjoy still <3 I always love an Agatha request

——

Agatha stopped Wanda for you. She brought down Westview, and forced Wanda into reality. In the process she ruined both of their fantasies; Wanda’s fantasy of a perfect life, and Agathas of all consuming power.

She did it for you. Because the prospect of power was nothing compared to the prospect of your devastation. Because you asked her to. You with your warm eyes, full of more emotion and humanity than both Agatha and Wanda have in power combined.

You asked her to, and there was no other option.

So no. She doesn’t regret it. Doesn’t regret trailing behind you and Wanda to help the Avengers, doesn’t regret following you. Can’t possibly. She doesn’t regret it, but Wanda smiles at you, leans in close, and Agatha feels a bit like she’s been betrayed. Betrayed because you smile back, and whisper something into Wanda’s ear that makes her flush a color that’s just perfect for the Scarlett Witch.

Agatha grits her teeth and returns to her book. She’s lived centuries and has never felt more childish.

It shouldn’t bother how close you and Wanda have gotten, she knows. She has no right to feel betrayed. She hasn’t done anything she’s done expecting anything more than your happiness. You aren’t hers.

You aren’t hers, and so Agatha just fumes silently in the corner of the room and imagines burning this whole damn tower down.

You don’t even know how Agatha cares, she knows. Every bit of vulnerability, love, and affection is hidden behind layers of humor and sarcasm.

You watch Agatha with distrust still because of it; wondering about alternative motives. Everyone in this god forsaken tower does, and Agatha has no idea why she’s here giving up centuries of planning for this game. These people are no different to those in Westview. Children playing dress up and pretend. All of them wearing costumes of heroes who aren’t afraid.

Cowards. All of them.

Your loud laugh draws Agatha’s attention from her page. Wanda is smiling at you with a gentleness Agatha can’t afford, and Agatha thinks, both with affection and a heavy heart; all of them but you.

She knows that despite her help she has given no one here good reason to trust her. She admits to herself that she enjoys letting them think she’s scheming—that she plays into it.

They’re just as uncaring for her as she is them. They push her away, but all you do is pull her in. To be brave and foolish is one in the same to Agatha, and she loves you for all the things she can’t afford to be.

—-

It’s only the next day that Agatha walks into the compound looking for you. She wants your help to test her potion.

She’s been visiting every day this week, and she’s beginning to feel a bit like the person she thought she wouldn’t ever be again. She’s beginning to settle into the thoughts instead of jerk away.

Then she sees you. You’re on top of Wanda, both you and her sleeping peacefully on the couch. Your head on her chest, her hand threaded in your hair, your legs intertwined.

The glass potion in Agatha’s hand shatters violently and loudly, startling only Wanda awake. She jerks and snaps her eyes towards Agatha, always on edge after being raised in war. Their eyes meet for only a second, and then both turn back to you, still sleeping peacefully.

Agatha turns on her heel. Wanda says, with a knowing that ruins her; “wait—”

Agatha, cowardly, no different than the people she despises, and never having claimed otherwise, teleports away.

—-

Agatha avoids the compound for just a week before she caves and invites you over.

She can’t bear to see Wanda, which is a new thing because usually she enjoys tormenting her. The image of her protective hand tangled in your hair, and your possessive leg thrown over her is still fresh in Agatha’s mind though.

Then there’s the text Wanda sent after Agatha left; filled with the same knowing Agatha sensed with her departure. You’re 5 years old.

(Then a bit later; whatever was in that potion melted through the compound. I hope you can magic up some money to fix your tantrum.)

Agatha, the picture of wisdom, sends Wanda two middle fingers and then blocks her.

So, naturally, she’s glad when you show up only an hour after Agatha’s text. No Wanda, for the first time in weeks.

At least—that’s what Agatha expected. It’s an hour later and all you’ve talked about is Wanda. Wanda this, Wanda that. Agatha has always had a challenge with patience, it’s always the biggest challenge of her schemes, and biting on her lip is barely constraining her from lashing out at this point.

It’s when Agatha tones your voice out though, that she notices the hunch to your shoulders, the heaviness in your eyes.

And the bruise around your neck. Why hadn’t she noticed sooner? “Who did this to you?”

Agatha drops her dishes immediately, rushing to where you’re seated at the kitchen island. She thinks; who, who, with a desperate frustration as she tilts your head up to inspect the injury. She’ll kill them. Kill them.

For now, she pulls her magic forward, setting to the task of healing the violence inflicted on you, but you pull away from Agatha just as suddenly as she calls on her magic; angry in a way Agatha is caught off guard by.

“All you are is hot and cold,” you mutter, looking away. “I’ve been trying to reach you for days and you haven’t responded, then I come as soon as you call and you ignore me for an hour. Now…now you suddenly care that I’m hurt?”

Agatha blinks, once, twice, and then you’re standing up and pacing her kitchen. Agatha stands, hand still hovering where it was touching your cheek, and watches.

“If you’re done—If you’ve already gotten what you needed from us, whatever it is, and are done, just tell me. Tell me and stop pretending to care,” you plead. Agatha notices the dark circles under your eyes. Notices all the parts of you that are dimmed now that she’s not stuck on Wanda, Wanda. “I can’t play pretend like you do, Ag. I don’t get what it serves you to act like you care about me. I have nothing to offer.”

You’re spiraling in the middle of Agatha’s kitchen, and Agatha is torn between all of the parts of herself. The one that wants to laugh and brush this all aside, the one that wants to comfort you, the one that wants to kiss you, and the one she settles on; the version of her that’s angry and feeling misunderstood by the person she knows she’s done everything to deceive.

She’s not often hit by regret, or not often this out of control over her own emotions. It makes her angrier. Angrier because it takes her back and makes her feel younger than she’s been in centuries. She’s not that child anymore, can’t be.

Don’t you get that you’re ruining her?

—-

“I care,” Agatha whispers urgently, silently fuming and with her face morphed into a frustrated scowl. “Of course I care,” she says, like it should have never been in question—because she’s made it so clear apparently, you think disbelievingly, unable to help the scoff that chokes out of you.

Yeah right.

With more disappointment than Agatha could ever understand, you shake your head. “The only thing you care about, Agatha, is power. You tell me yourself all the time. I just thought— ” you pause, untamed tears coming to your eyes. “I don’t know what I thought…”

The moment the words leave your lips, you and Agatha enter into a standoff. Agatha furious and raging, and you too wrapped in your own emotions to register it as it is.

Agatha angry for the first time—at this. At the doubting of her care. It should say all you need to know, but you’ve missed it completely now that you’ve stopped looking.

It’s another moment of glaring before Agatha scoffs and stalks forward, pushing you into the wall and trapping you. Anyone else would be scared, but you just continue to glare (even as you flush).

There’s a part of you somewhere, one you don’t notice, but that Agatha does. A part of you that knows Agatha would never hurt you.

“I’m too old for this, ” Agatha grits out, and then her hand is around your throat. You don’t even flinch. Aren’t even surprised when you feel the rush of healing magic. All you’re surprised about is just that— your lack of surprise.

Agatha’s eyes turn inspecting, she shifts your head to the side with her other hand, ignoring your protests. You’re beginning to feel like a child, beginning to see things as they are.

Of course Agatha cares, you know. Somehow it hurts just as much. How could she both care and be so unpredictable, so cold? Had she thought of how you’d feel at all when you ignored her for the week? The other Avengers grew suspicious, checking everywhere around the compound for something stolen. You thought something terrible happened to her.

Only Wanda seemed unbothered. “She’s just throwing a tantrum,” she said, and wouldn’t explain further.

“Who did this?” Agatha repeats, pulling you from your thoughts.

“It was a mission”, you explained, the fire leaving you with it. You can’t afford to be mad at Agatha. You need and miss her too much.

Agatha growls, not settled at all. “Isn’t Wanda supposed to be protecting you?” She asks venomously, her jaw tightening along with her hand. “What good is your little girlfriend if she can’t even do that?”

It’s so laced with bitterness, with wanting, you’re left to blink at her, utterly shocked. Does Agatha think—? Wanda’s voice comes to your head; “she saw us cuddling and looked like she was going to murder me with the shattered glass in her hand.”

Seriously?

“What?” Agatha asks, self conscious in a way she never is. Self conscious because she likes—possibly loves you back.

All of this week’s turmoil, and for what? Because the two of you love each other?

—

You’re grinning at Agatha now, and Agatha is completely suspicious and unnerved. She tries to step back but you capture her wrists, pull her even closer.

Agatha’s heart pounds at the look on your face. Like a Cheshire cat. She can’t escape the feeling that she’s been caught. She eyes you with uneasiness.

You look at her expectantly now. “So much wisdom and yet you’re still so stupid?”

“Stupid?” Agatha repeats with disgust, like the word isn’t even in the dictionary.

You nod. “Agatha,” you breathe, affectionately. Agatha feels her world shift. “You know I love you, don’t you? Wanda is only ever going to be my frie—”

Agatha doesn’t let you finish. Couldn’t bear too. She’s always standing on the precipice of something. Always hovering over lines, too impatient to stand back, and your I love you snaps Agatha forward, like she’s been waiting for it for centuries. She kisses you roughly, pushing you back against the wall, and tries to claim it.

I love you, to the person who has never felt loved. She turned her back on love the moment love turned her back on her. She was only a teenager then, realizing that there was not a strength she could have that would make her enough for her mother—for her clan. There was not a person she could be beside herself, and never a version that wasn’t lacking, just out of reach of affection.

Then you. You showed up in Westview, strong enough to break in unaffected, and suspicious of Agatha, suspicious and then knowing, but still caring through it, and Agatha felt herself enough in the moments her mother would have claimed were her weakest; her moments where she was vulnerable and honest.

She kisses you like you’re her testament of her strength, now. Like you’re a testament of just how enough she is. She’s always been wanting, and doesn’t know how to exist without it. Without the yearning of; more, more, more, but as her kisses slow down, turn loving instead of passionate, she thinks for the first time that to exist like this—for the first time at peace, is something she could get used to forever.

You’re breathing heavily when Agatha breaks away, completely flustered and shaken. Agatha feels her heart pick up again, and thinks, no—she’ll always be wanting, and moves in to kiss you again.

You laugh, so joyful and happy—because of her. Because of her—a hand over Agatha’s mouth to stop her. “Are we ever going to talk?” You wonder breathlessly. “About feelings? About where you got that idea about Wanda and me?

Agatha pulls your hand away, smiles devilishly and possessively. “After I’ve had you against every corner of this house, we’ll invite Wanda over and talk over everything you’d like.”

You groan in exasperation, but there’s no protesting when Agatha kisses you next, and from the way you practically fall into the way Agatha’s hand curls loosely around your neck, she doesn’t expect one anytime soon.

[garrywantspasta]

💜Agatha Harkness ✨

[the-scarlet-witch-22]

Love and Liabilities: Chapter Three (Agatha Harkness x Fem!Reader)

Summary: Upon starting your last year of law school, imagine your surprise when the woman from your one night stand turns out to be your professor.

Word Count: 6.1k

Tags: 18+ Minors Do Not Engage!! Light sexual situations (very light)

A/N: Hello! I got a bit carried away with this chapter, but I’m battling a head cold so I’m just posting all of it. I’d like to warn that I am: 1) not a lawyer & 2) not a law student (yet 🤧)… so I did some brief research on things, but I am not an expert!! I hope you enjoy this chapter, and feel free to let me know what you think. Thank you for reading!

Tag-List: @aggieslittleslut @gilmorelivie @harknessshi @neverfindmegone @ris-ris-mind @sabstance-blog @tr333sus

There was a special moment in every person’s life that made them reconsider all of their past choices. For you, that moment happened while sitting in the middle of a lecture hall, wondering how the hell the woman from your first one night stand turned out to be your professor. If this was the universe’s way of being funny you were seriously missing the joke.

Agnes, no, Agatha, you mentally corrected yourself, was passing around a seating chart, and you were fixated on her every move around the lecture hall. There was something so hypnotizing about her, but you couldn’t pinpoint what it was. The most obvious answer, of course, was that she had just fucked your brains out a few days ago, and the hormones were clouding your judgement. Flashes of her body pressing yours into the mattress as she whispered pure filth in your ear, driving you to an orgasmic high had you shifting uncomfortably in your seat. As if she could read your thoughts, you noticed her inquisitive eyes meet yours. But as quickly as she graced you with her attention, she looked away.

“Now, I know most of your professors use syllabus week as an excuse to put off lecturing, but we’re going to be diving right into the corrupt, filthy world of criminal defense law.” Agatha’s voice rang out through the lecture hall, and you saw a few of your classmates' shoulders slump at her words. “The purpose of this class is to make you question your morals; to rethink any existing ethical values you currently hold.”

Agnes-Agatha, was so well-spoken, and you found yourself hanging onto her every word. Her perfectly painted red lips were mesmerizing to watch as they twisted to form various syllables, and you were having a rather difficult time focusing on her lecture.

Standing in the center of the hall, Agatha held her hands by her side, and you watched her fingers slipping inside her pants pockets. “I want you to take every preconceived notion you have regarding criminal defense and erase it. When you’re a criminal defense attorney, it doesn’t matter if your client is innocent or guilty. It doesn’t matter if they are on trial for petty theft, or for first degree murder.”

She turned her attention to the PowerPoint being displayed on the huge screen, and you, alongside your very disgruntled classmates, pulled out your laptops to take notes. “The biggest mistake you can make in the courtroom is taking the time to care if your client actually committed the crime. That doesn’t matter. I don’t care what any professor or prosecutor will tell you; ignore them. We don’t care if someone is a criminal, but we do care about the motive. Why would someone commit a crime of that nature? What would lead them to have to behave that way?”

A few of your classmates appeared surprised at the professor’s words, but Agatha continued on. “To win over a judge or jury you need to not only be able to rationalize, but clearly justify why the motives lead to the actions of the accused. Nothing in life is ever black and white, there’s always an obscene amount of gray mixed in.”

Leaning back against her desk, Agatha clicked through the slide show. “Now, I don’t typically begin this until a few weeks into the semester, but you’re all 3L’s, yes? You should be up for a challenge on the first day.”

Not waiting for verbal confirmation, she pushed herself off the desk, pointing to someone sitting in the front row. “I see my seating chart is still floating around somewhere so, you, what’s your name?”

A petite girl with sleek blonde hair pulled back in a braid apprehensively looked at Agatha. “Blair Lange, Professor Harkness.”

“Well Miss Lange, you’re going to be my prosecutor.” Agatha gave her a rather menacing smirk. “If you’d join me, please.”

Looking around the room, she spotted the seating chart and went to retrieve it. Her eyes scanned the page, and you were captivated with the sight of her long index finger tracing along the various rows filled with names. “Hmmm, let’s see.” Agatha drawled out, voice sickly sweet like honey. “Who’s going to be my next victim?”

It seemed the universe was keen on laughing at you today, as you heard her call your name, slowly drawing out each syllable. Lovely. Rising from your chair, you felt dozens of pairs of eyes on you as you descended the stairs, but there was only one set that you were focused on. Agatha was observing you with an indecipherable expression on her face, and you felt your cheeks deepen in color at the prolonged eye contact.

“So class, we have our prosecution, and our defense,” She motioned to you, signaling for you to come closer to her, and she handed you each a packet. “I’m going to be the judge. I want you both to look at the following slides I have printed detailing the case and determine how you would have handled this.”

Blair’s face paled at that, and you couldn’t blame her. Cold calling was intimidating enough, but a mock trial on the first day was not exactly how you imagined starting your morning. There were a lot of misconceptions regarding law school; a lot of law students, yourself included, had no interest being in a courtroom. Corporate law dealt with complex contracts and deals for major companies, something you preferred working with. This was nowhere near what you wanted to practice, but it seemed Agatha simply didn’t care.

Agatha strolled back to her desk, leaving you both to read the information provided to you. Flipping through the pages, you noted how the case involved a woman being charged with attempted grand theft and attempted assault of the business owner.

From a first glance, there didn’t seem to be much for you to even argue. The defendant was a former employee of the aforementioned business, and had been fired mere hours before the incident. But, there were a few interesting details. The defendant had no priors, and, from what you were reading, multiple eyewitnesses reported the business owner pulling a gun on them. Your eyes were locked on one particular paragraph, and you remembered what Agatha had just said, about obscene amounts of gray.

Blair, for her part, looked fairly uncertain, and kept casting nervous glances towards the professor. Agatha ignored her, and after a few moments she clapped her hands together. “Alright, let’s begin. Now, all I want from the two of you is to have a lively debate on how you would take the information given to argue your side. You don’t have to use the argument given on the page, you can choose a different route if you have sufficient evidence to support. Miss Lange, why don’t you get us started.”

Clearing her throat, Blair looked down at the papers, and you noted how her hands were so unsteady they were shaking. “Right. Well I would argue that the prosecution proceeds with both attempted grand theft and assault against the defendant.”

Rolling her eyes, Agatha let out a deep sigh. “Miss Lange, I’m not asking you to read verbatim what is on the sheet in front of you. When looking at court documents, it is essential to not only be able to read what is given but to be able to put it in your own words.”

Blair kept her eyes glued to the page and Agatha shook her head in disapproval. “Fine, I’ll let it slide for now. If the defense could keep us going, let’s keep it snappy.”

Taking a deep breath, you looked up at Agatha. “The defense is pleading not guilty to attempted assault and grand theft.”

You noticed Blair looked up in surprise at your statement, as that was not printed in the court documents, while Agatha merely raised her eyebrows, turning her attention towards you. “Not guilty? Why?”

“The plaintiff stated in their testimony that both the attempted assault and grand theft were unprovoked, but the defense is arguing that both of these allegations have mitigating circumstances that I’d argue are grounds for immediate dismissal.”

Blair shuffled the papers around, and she appeared uncomfortable. “Professor Harkness, that’s not listed anywhere in here.”

Agatha held up a hand, signaling for Blair to stop talking. “Defense, if you could proceed.”

You could feel butterflies begin to flutter in your stomach as you realized you were taking a rather large leap in judgment. “On behalf of my client, I’m looking to not only have these charges dropped, but to formally charge the plaintiff with wrongful termination.”

“Does the prosecution have anything to add?” Agatha questioned, folding her arms across her chest.

“I’m not sure where to even begin, Professor.” Blair admitted, and you felt a quick twinge of pity for her, briefly wondering if perhaps you should dial it back.

Agatha frowned, and you could immediately tell she was displeased with that answer. “You don’t know where to begin? That’s the answer you’re going with?”

Blair remained silent, and Agatha took a deep breath. “My, my, you’ve completed two years of law school and you don’t know where to begin. Is there anything constructive you can add to this debate, Miss Lange?”

Stammering, Blair shook her head, looking anywhere but at your professor. “No, I don’t.”

“Disappointing.” Agatha admitted, and her eyes narrowed, pointing to the door. “Get out.”

Your classmate’s eyes widened, and you felt that twinge of pity grow even larger.

“Professor Harkness, please. I didn’t-” Blair stammers.

“Get out of my class. Now.” Agatha repeated, her tone growing more agitated with each word. “And don’t come back until you’re adequately prepared.”

The hall was dead quiet, and you were too shocked to know how to react, or if you even should. Nearly all of your classmates were dumbfounded as well, this wasn't a normal occurrence in classes. A lot of your former law professors were strict and had extremely high expectations of their students; endless hours of case studies and readings, roasting students who froze during cold calls, you name it. However, you had never witnessed one of them kick a student out of class, least of all during syllabus week.

To her credit, Blair left with a lot more grace than you could have mustered in her shoes. She swiftly grabbed her belongings and hurried out of the lecture hall, the sound of the doors slamming shut reverberated across the walls.

Agatha paid no mind to the noise, her focus was entirely on you, deep blue eyes narrowing ever so slightly. “There is no direct evidence suggesting that the plaintiff is guilty of wrongful termination, is there?”

Your eyes flickered between the papers in your hands and the alluring woman in front of you. “Not in those exact words, no.”

Agatha let out a low hum, taking a small step closer to you. “So you’re basing your argument off of what exactly? Intuition?”

A few of your classmates snickered, but you ignored them.

Shaking your head, you tried to muster any remaining confidence you could find. “No. I’m basing it off the written testimonials by four different employees, stating that the defendant showed up late on the day of the incident because they were at a previously scheduled doctor’s appointment.”

“But there’s nothing to support that the defendant was fired because they were late. Much less, that they were wrongfully terminated for it.” Agatha skillfully argued, poking holes in your theory with ease. “How do we know that they didn’t have a history of showing up late to work? Having an incomplete argument guarantees the prosecution will tear you to shreds, you need something more absolute.”

“That’s true.” You admitted, and took a pause before adding, “I think the defendant being pregnant makes things a bit more absolute though, doesn’t it?”

Agatha’s face remained expressionless as she slowly raised her left arm up, index finger tapping against her cheek. “Is that a question or your statement?”

Without hesitating you replied, “My statement.”

“And how do you plan on proving that the defendant was not only fired due to their pregnancy, but that both counts of attempted grand theft and assault should be dropped?” Agatha questioned, and it looked as if she was actively trying to restrain herself from stepping closer to you, but surely you were imagining that.

“The defendant had absolutely no priors, and they don’t have a history of being fired from previous employers.” You pointed out, setting your papers down on Agatha’s desk. “They had previously cleared coming in late in order to go to a scheduled doctor’s appointment, and it was stated that when they showed up to work that the plaintiff fired them. Written testimonials from multiple employees stated the plaintiff said it was unacceptable for the defendant to show up late, despite them approving the time off.”

Agatha’s lips pursed as she processed what you were saying. “You’re making an awful lot of assumptions. What of the attempted grand theft and assault?”

“Grand theft in the state of New York starts at $1,000. The defendant showed up at the business after they had been wrongfully terminated to request their pay from previous days worked, which would come out to around that amount.” You explained, hoping you had the right number. “As for the quoted attempted assault, no eyewitnesses noted the defendant raising even a finger to threaten the plaintiff. The latter, however, was seen pulling out a gun on the defendant, completely unprovoked.”

“And if the plaintiff claims it was self defense?” Agatha fired back with so much zest that you wondered how much she was enjoying this debate.

Tilting your head, you pondered her words. “Self defense against an unarmed pregnant woman? That won’t hold up well with the jury.”

“You’re certain this is the argument you want to back?” Agatha tested you again, her index finger moving from her cheek to lightly stroke her bottom lip, and you found yourself hypnotized by the motion. As if she could sense your distraction, her ever red lips tilted up to form a slight smirk.

“I’m certain.”

Her eyes bore into yours, searching for any hesitation or uncertainty. You held your own as much as you could, ignoring the flip flop of your nerves. Finally, after what felt like an eternity of waiting, she gave you a single nod, turning her attention back to the rest of the class.

“Not bad.” Agatha offered, and you immediately let out the breath you had been holding in. “A few of your arguments would have been thrown out, but you certainly appear to have the stamina for the courtroom.”

She gave you a subtle raised eyebrow at the last part of the sentence as you lightly blushed, confirming your suspicions she had most likely selected you on purpose. Heading back to your seat, you listened to her drone on to the rest of the class that everyone would eventually end up in the hot seat before the semester’s end.

“And it appears we are all out of time for the day.” Agatha announced, and nearly everyone let out a sigh of relief at that. “Come prepared to debate the best way to prepare an opening statement.”

Everyone eagerly filed out of the hall, but you lingered, slowly putting away your belongings. A few of your classmates congratulated you on surviving Agatha’s ruthless interrogations, and you merely offered them a brief thanks. Agatha also appeared to be in no hurry, as she leisurely shut down her laptop. You debated on if you should talk to her, if you should address the elephant in the room that you were both dancing around. Walking down the steps of the aisles, you were so wrapped up in your thoughts that you tripped on the last step and went flying forward.

Before you tumbled to the floor, swift hands wrapped around your waist and shoulder, helping steady you to the ground. As you went to thank your savior, you were surprised to find Agatha standing in front of you, bag dropped at her side.

“You’re always this clumsy, hm?” Agatha lightly quipped as she examined you. If you didn’t know any better you would say she was concerned. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, thanks.” You assured her, thankful she had been there to catch you. “Could I talk to you?” Looking around the room you noticed most of your classmates had left but you carefully added, “About the discussion in class?”

Agatha hesitated, and you wondered if you pushed too far, but after a moment she nodded. “I have some time now, my office?” She walked away before you could reply, swinging the doors open. “Try to keep up, and be careful not to trip.”

It didn’t take long for you to realize Agatha Harkness was quite feared in the law school. You lost track of the number of students who averted their gaze and scurried away as soon as they noticed her rounding the corner. It was almost amusing, at least Agatha seemed to think so, as she looked quite smug on the walk to her office. You made the trek in silence, and it eerily reminded you of a similar encounter you had shared with her only a few days prior. Upon reaching the office, Agatha quickly unlocked it, ushering you inside.

Agatha’s office was relatively spacious for a law professor, with high vaulted ceilings and large windows that allowed plenty of light in. The walls were adorned with large bookcases, filled to the brim with various titles ranging from Greek classics to biographies of different Supreme Court justices. She had a plethora of plants scattered around, and you learned from spending enough time in Maria’s office that Agatha knew how to properly water them. There was a large desk situated near the windows, with a high backed mahogany chair at the head.

Agatha took a seat, and pointed to two smaller seats on the other side of the desk. “Sit, please.”

You did as she instructed, taking note of the rather expensive looking whiskey near the corner of the desk as well as a few books the professor appeared to be reading. When you looked at her, you were unsurprised to find her curiously gazing at you.

“I assume you don’t actually want to discuss today’s class?” Agatha guessed, amusement evident in her tone.

“Not exactly.” You admitted, feeling another rush of nerves course through your system at finally being alone with her.

“Oh? Whatever did you want to talk about then?” Agatha bantered, leaning forward across her desk as she gave you an expectant look.

“Agatha…” Trailing off, you cleared your throat. “I mean, Professor Harkness.”

Frowning, Agatha reached her hand across the desk to brush against yours, chuckling as you jumped at the contact. “Just Agatha when we’re alone, dear.”

Nearly ripping your hand from hers, you folded them across your lap. “Professor Harkness, I really don’t feel comfortable calling you by your first name under these circumstances.”

Raising her eyebrows, Agatha leaned back in her chair. “Under what circumstances? After I just fucked you a few days ago and you just found out I was your professor?”

“Don’t say that!” You hissed, looking over your shoulder as if someone could have heard, despite the door being firmly shut.

“Honestly, dear, you aren’t the first girl to have slept with her professor, and you certainly won’t be the last.” Agatha stood up, walking over to an electric tea kettle she had on a bar cart. “Tea?”

Stunned by her casual response, you were at a loss for words. “You’re seriously asking me if I want tea?”

“Well I would ask if you would like some whiskey but I know drinking this early in the day is typically frowned upon.” Agatha jested, but upon noticing how upset you appeared she backed off. “Honestly, you didn’t know I was going to be your professor, I had no idea you would be walking in late to my lecture hall. No harm, no foul. No one has to know what happened.”

Her words made enough sense, and you reluctantly nodded. “I guess not.”

“It was just a one night stand, it didn’t mean anything in the grand scheme of things.” Agatha added, turning on her tea kettle, fingers raking over various mugs. “We can just forget it ever happened.”

You knew she was right, but you were surprised to find how much her words stung. “Right, well I’m glad we were able to clear that up.” Standing up, you grabbed your bag. “I shouldn’t take up anymore of your time. Thank you again, Professor Harkness, and I’ll see you in class.”

If Agatha was surprised by your abrupt exit, she didn’t show it. She nodded, pouring herself some tea. “It was my pleasure, dear.”

Leaving her office, you told yourself that you could relax and that Agatha was right, you could just forget that it ever happened.

Only it turned out the more you tried to forget something, the harder it was to put it out of your brain. The rest of your day was spent zoning out in the library. While you had wanted to get a head start on your hours of readings, instead you kept remembering the feel of Agatha’s body against yours, the taste of her tongue in your mouth. The feel of her long fingers tracing patterns on your inner thigh, her hot breath in your ear telling you how good you were for her. It was embarrassing, really.

Agatha made it quite clear in her office that it was a one night stand, and that it didn’t have to mean anything in the long run. But she continued to invade your every thought, until you inevitably lost track of time. The hours ticked by, and you knew studying in your apartment wouldn’t be any better. You normally had no trouble shutting out the rest of the world to focus on your class work, but there was something so magnetic about Agatha Harkness. This was wrong, and crazy, and you knew it. You had only spent one night with this woman, you barely knew her. But she was addictive, and she had somehow managed to rot your brain in the process.

Just as you finally started to get into your reading, you heard your phone ding. Letting out a disgruntled sigh, you shut your books for the evening and grabbed your phone, deciding it would be best to just try again in the morning. Scrolling through your notifications as you got ready to leave, you almost dropped your phone as you read the newest email in your inbox.

Not sure if you’re still on campus, but if you are, feel free to drop by my office. A few things I wanted to discuss from today’s class. -A

It was nearly dusk, and you watched the sun slowly begin to set over the Manhattan skyline, filling the sky with colorful hues of oranges, pinks, and purples. There were still plenty of people in the library, as a number of students had night classes, and you were frozen. Did Agatha know you were upset when you left? Was she going to ask you to drop her class?

As if you were in a trance, you mindlessly walked to the professor’s office, keeping your head low. You could feel your heartbeat, pounding so loud you feared it might explode through your chest as you reached her closed door.

Knocking twice, you waited for her captivating voice to tell you to enter. Upon doing so you found the woman who had taken over your every waking thought leaning against the windowsill of her office, sipping on a glass of what you presumed to be whiskey.

“Shut the door.” Agatha immediately requested, not offering you any other sort of greeting.

Gently closing the door as you entered, you lingered, unsure where to go or what you should do.

Agatha finally looked at you, and motioned to the whiskey on her desk. “Would you like a glass?”

“It’s probably best if I don’t.” You declined, once again remembering the last time you were drinking around her. “Thank you though.”

“You were upset by what I said earlier.” Agatha stated, setting her whiskey on the windowsill. She said it calmly and so matter of fact you almost wondered why she bothered saying it at all.

“I wasn’t upset.” You disagreed, but she gave you a pointed look in return as if to say bullshit.

“You were upset by what I said earlier.” Agatha repeated, stepping away from the windowsill. “Why?”

“I…I don’t know.” You replied, the lie burning like acid on your tongue, causing you to wince.

“You don’t know?” Agatha mimicked your words, and she seemed agitated as she began to walk towards you, closing the distance little by little. “You don’t know why you were upset?”

“Professor Harkness, I really don’t see why we have to go over all of this again-” You started to say until you were rudely cut off by a loud cackle.

“For an aspiring lawyer, you have an absolute shit poker face.” Agatha informed you, swarming in; you shivered as you were suddenly standing so close together that you were nearly face to face. “Why were you upset?”

Your face grew red from her scrutinizing gaze, and that only egged her on. “I think we both know why, don’t we, darling?” Leaning in until she was close enough to your ear, she leaned in to whisper, “You wanted me to fuck you again, didn’t you?”

“Professor Harkness, I…” You breathed out, feeling yourself grow dizzy, and you couldn’t remember anything but her name.

“I thought I told you to call me Agatha.” The professor gently reprimanded you, as her hand came up to cup the back of your neck, and you could smell the whiskey in her breath. “Just Agatha.”

As her tongue parted her luscious red lips, you lost any remaining functioning brain cells and closed the distance between you, frantically kissing her. Agatha tangled her fingers in your hair, tugging you impossibly closer. The professor was kissing you with fervor, and you slowly found yourself melting with every passionate movement of her lips. Her tongue slowly, teasingly, sought entrance to your mouth, which you granted without a second thought. You let out a series of quiet moans as her hands moved lower to cup your ass, greedily groping, and she chuckled at your reaction.

“So easy for me.” Agatha softly murmured against your lips, pulling back just enough to lead you to lean back against her desk.

You wanted to argue that no, you weren’t easy for her, but you both knew that was a lie. Her hands moved to remove the scarf you had been forced to wear as a result of the multitude of hickeys she had adorned your body with, and you watched her eyes darken at the sight.

“Well you certainly bruise easily.” Agatha teased, tracing every mark with her fingers, the overwhelming sensation causing you to whine. “And still so responsive. Fascinating.”

Thousands of thoughts were circulating in your brain, and every touch from Agatha made it harder for you to focus. Her lips attached to the side of your neck, immediately alternating between sucking and biting, lightly kissing each new mark she left. At this rate you were going to have to ask your roommates if they had any scarves you could borrow. Just as Agatha went to unbutton your pants, there was a loud thumping noise from the hallway, and you both leapt apart.

Panting, you felt a spike in your anxiety at the thought of being caught like this, even though rationally speaking you knew no one could possibly know what you were doing in here.

Agatha seemed to be having similar thoughts, as she straightened her jacket, clearing her throat. “Perhaps this isn’t the best place to continue this. Could I invite you for a night cap?”

In an attempt to get your breathing under control, you shook your head. “No, I think that would be a mistake.”

Shooting you a perplexed look, Agatha strolled over to the windowsill to pick up her whiskey. “A mistake? If I correctly recall you just kissed me, did you not?”

“You came on to me first!” You argued, and your brain appeared to be regaining consciousness as you remembered why this was such a bad idea. “I can’t risk this ruining things.”

“Someone certainly thinks highly of themselves.” Agatha dryly retorted, finishing off her whiskey and pouring herself another. “And what pray tell do you think this,” she motioned to you before continuing, “will ruin?”

“I have a job offer for next year.” You explained, and mentally cursed yourself for your lapse of judgment. “They never said fucking my professor would cause me to lose it, but I don’t think it would help my case.”

Agatha’s eyes shifted at that comment, and she let out a sigh. “And you’re worried about what, exactly? That we’ll give ourselves away and this unimportant firm will care so much about your deviousness that they’ll drop you?”

“It’s Stark & Strange.” You bluntly corrected her, not caring if you were being rude. “And I can’t really afford to fuck that up.”

You didn’t mention how literally you couldn’t afford to mess this up. Law school was expensive, and while you were granted a few scholarships to cover tuition, you still had to take out hundreds of thousands of dollars of loans. Plus not to mention the extra thousands you would have to spend in order to prepare for the bar. You were thankful your summer associate position paid so well, as you were able to pay for the majority of your rent for the year, but you weren’t exactly flush with cash. Working in corporate law would practically guarantee you opportunities you could never dream of having otherwise.

“Tony Stark is a dick, and I know for a fact he’s committed sins far worse than sleeping with his professor.” Agatha unhelpfully offered, but she appeared to sense how upset you were as she finally walked back over to you, setting her glass down on her desk before rubbing your shoulders. “No one is going to find out, dear. There’s really nothing to fret over.”

It was surreal, how one touch from her practically set your body ablaze with want. It was clear you were unable to control yourself when you were around the older woman. The thought of having to sit in that large lecture hall three times a week, watching her and obsessing over her every little move felt almost unbearable.

Hesitating for a brief moment, you moved your eyes to look at anything but her. “I think I need to drop your class.”

“Absolutely not.”

Frowning, you looked back to find her staring at you as if you said something incredibly stupid. “Why not? You have plenty of other students.”

“They’re morons.” Agatha insisted, rolling her eyes as if it was obvious.

Snorting, you shook your head at how dramatic she was. “Today was only the first day, how could you possibly know that?”

Agatha’s right hand gripped the desk, while her left absentmindedly played with your hair, gently stroking it. “I can just tell, I’m rather gifted that way.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “And apparently very humble as well.”

Blue eyes sparkling, Agatha continued to twirl strands of your hair. “You have a lot of potential as a defense attorney. I saw it today during class. There’s a lot of fight in you, and passion. That’s not something that can be taught.”

Blushing at the compliment, you shook your head. “Thank you, but I really have no interest in being in a courtroom.”

Shrugging, Agatha dropped your hair, taking another small sip of her whiskey. “It never hurts to keep your options open.”

“I just don’t think this is a good idea.” You continued, keeping yourself grounded to reality. “I can’t…control myself around you.”

“But that’s half the fun, darling.” Agatha taunted, but showed you mercy as she went back to sit in her chair. “It’s ultimately up to you, but I think it would be a mistake to drop the class.”

Following her lead, you sat across from her, fidgeting your hands on your lap. “So what, then? We just avoid each other outside of class?”

Agatha shook her head in disagreement. “Too juvenile. Besides, that would just make it easier for us to give into temptation.”

She put a special emphasis on the last word, giving you a salacious grin, and you wiggled uncomfortably in your seat before you eventually responded. “I’m not seeing any other solutions besides me dropping your class and trying to get in another.”

“It’s far too late for you to get a spot in anything half decent.” Agatha insisted, and you knew she was right. At this point you’d have to take an extra class in the spring, and pay more money than you could currently afford. “Besides, I already have a solution.”

You looked at her, surprised at how quickly she had come up with something. “You do?”

“We’ll make a contract.” Agatha simply stated, and you stared blankly at her.

“A…contract?”

The professor deeply sighed, running her fingers back to unpin her hair, the dark curls messily framing her face. “Honestly, dear. Didn’t you spend the summer fawning over those big bad attorneys at Stark & Strange? Yes, a contract. We’ll each put our terms in and come up with an appropriate way to navigate this until the semester’s end in thirteen weeks.”

A contract. Hm. It was a bit cliche, sure, but you couldn’t think of anything better.

But still, you were curious to what extent Agatha intended to try and make this work. “What exactly would we be putting in the contract?”

Agatha shrugged. “This and that. No sex, obviously.” She gave you an inquisitive glance. “Unless you feel differently?”

Flashes of her fingers curling and twisting inside you had you squirming again. “No, I think that’s definitely necessary.”

Grinning like a cat that ate the canary, Agatha smugly replied with, “I thought so. Given your particular lack of self control, perhaps we could eliminate anything…carnal, hm?”

Glaring at her, you wondered where she got the audacity. “I don’t think it’s just me that’s lacking control, but that’s probably wise.” Another thought crossed your mind, and you quickly added, “Then again, we never did discuss the Agnes of it all, did we? Do you really think you’re important enough to need to give people a fake name?”

“You’re quite cheeky for someone who was practically begging me to fuck her in my office.” Agatha shot back, and shook her head. “Do you not give yourself an alias when you talk to strangers?”

Enjoying the banter, you gave a thoughtful expression before eventually saying, “No, I don’t think most people do that.”

Agatha narrowed her eyes, and she seemed unamused. “Safety, dear. For all I knew, you could have been a serial killer.”

You gave her a wide, innocent smile. “No, I just turned out to be your student.”

“You're not supposed to make jokes.” Agatha informed you, swirling the remaining whiskey in her glass. “Most lawyers aren’t funny.”

Ignoring her, you changed the subject. “And what is going to happen at the end of the semester?” You curiously eyed her, unsure what her response would be, or even what you wanted it to be.

“We’ll reevaluate of course.” Agatha explained, before adding with a smirk. “That is, if you pass my class.”

“Of course.”

“So do we have a deal?” Holding her hand out, you quickly realized she wanted you to shake it.

You reached out to firmly grab her hand, and her fingers intertwined with yours, blue eyes twinkling with mischief.

“We have a deal.”

Releasing your hand, she pulled out a post-it note, messily scribbling something down before sliding it over to you. “That’s my cell and personal email. Send me your terms by tomorrow night and we’ll put something together.”

Taking the post-it, your eyes scanned the writing before carefully pocketing it. “Right, thanks. I guess I should be going?”

Nodding, Agatha stood up to walk you to the door. Meeting you halfway, she carefully wrapped the scarf back around your next, tugging on it slightly and grinning at the shiver you let out. “I look forward to doing business with you, dear. See you in class.”

Exiting her office, your fingers fumbled through the pockets of your jeans until they felt the post-it note, and you wondered what the hell you just got yourself into.

[getlostsquidward]

If Agatha Harkness killed me DO NOT prosecute her. SHE caught ME slipping. That is on ME.

[cissa-calls]

Countdown to Agatha: Darkhold Diaries: Day 629

****Spoiler warning!! Leaks!!!****

Images of Agatha from the upcoming show Agatha: Darkhold Diaries have been leaked:

Credit to @ScarletWitchUpd and @AgathaHNews on Twitter for these images

[marvelsgirl616]

Behind the scenes of Agatha: Darkhold Diaries

[billykcplan]

Joe Locke and Kathryn Hahn on the set of Agatha: Darkhold Diaries (Scarlet Witch Updates on X)

[ifnotlovepersevering]

ohh the obsession is coming back hard

ty @shinkomiii for sharing 🥰