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devflamme · 6 months

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BRUTUS.

Summary: Simply, young Nicholas Scratch fucking around and finding out.” (that's literally what I wrote on the google doc.)

Warnings: Religious themes, child abuse, talks about parenting, Agatha being fucked up, literal murder and then resurrection, violence, the normal™

Word count: 1,6k+

Note: I wrote this purely based on a leak from the Agatha series that will release next year. This is not canon, never will be, if it ever is canon, I want credits for it /J. Also based on the song Brutus by The Buttress, as I am obsessed with this song for so many years now. By the way, I haven't started reading the comics yet, I only know Nicholas Scratch by what I've read on his wiki and Agatha's. Another thing: English is not my first language, if you see any typos, please tell me and I'll fix it!

On AO3: 🔮

The boy could feel his mother's eyes on him. Piercing through him, hurting his feelings, hurting his heart — his little boy, going through her things like a little rascal. Has she not educated him enough? She was gripping his ear scoldingly, her long and curly black hair swishing around his forehead while all the things the little boy could see and hear was her blue eyes, shining with that purple aura he always were afraid of, and her voice - booming through his ears and making him cry and whimper like a lost puppy.

"I'm sorry, mother! I'm sorry!" He would scream. He would wail. He would plead.

"You're not sorry. Nicholas, you're not sorry." She would grit through her teeth, her smile scary and making little Nicholas Scratch shiver in fear. His mother was strict, the strictest of them all, while mama was so loving. Mama was sweet. He was a mama's boy, as mother would call him. The biggest mama's boy — pathetic and weak, as Rio would just defend him for anything wrong he did when he looked at her with those big eyes and pathetic pout. He wasn't strong enough. He never will be strong enough in Agatha Harkness' eyes. "Why did you touch that damned book? What's wrong with your head?"

"I was curious, mother!" Nicholas wailed, tears going down his face in angry streaks. Agatha was carrying him through the wood cabin, towards Rio, who was at the basement mixing up potions. Another weakling. Too much interested in potions and nature to be strong and able; the Darkhold used to whisper to Agatha about how her wife was pathetic. About how her son was pathetic. "I was just curious. The book... The book was calling out to me... I h-heard my name..."

Agatha stops in her tracks, almost dropping the boy down to the hardwood floor. She looks at Nicholas, who was still crying profusely, his face red and face puffy, some snot in his nose. "What? What did you say?"

No. That shouldn't be possible. He wasn't- He couldn't. He was her son, obviously — But... How? How could he be worthy? At such a young age?

"I heard my name... I thought you or m-mama were calling me... So I searched for you." Nicholas answers, his voice small and broken, hiccuping through his sentences. Nicholas dries his tears with the back of his chubby hand, looking up at his mother and looking for some softness in her eyes. He didn't find any. "I went into the- The library. I thought- I thought you were there. But it was only that book you told me n-not to read... I only touched it once! I'm sorry, mother!"

"We can't have that. I told you to not touch it. I told you to not even look at it." Agatha rasps out, her eyes closed and her breath uneven, as if she was controlling herself to not do anything she would regret afterwards. She felt like God, when Adam and Eve ate the forbidden fruit from Heaven. "Why did you disobey me?"

"I'm sorry! Please, mother, forgive me." Nicholas whispers, gripping Agatha's dark robes and hugging Agatha, his tears staining Agatha's linen clothes. She looks down at Nicholas, her eyes shining with her purple magic, but she could also feel another thing. Darkness. The darkness from the Darkhold's magic — the thing holding her from committing one of the biggest mistakes in her life.

"Nicholas, can you come with me? I want to show a place to you."

Therefore the Lord God sent him forth from the garden of Eden, to till the ground from whence he was taken.

Agatha didn't want this.

She didn't want to be a mother - that was Rio's dream, not hers. Her dream was to get even more powerful, to find ways to decipher that one damned book, and to just conquer everything. She didn't have time for this. For a child.

The first time she saw Nicholas, she knew he wasn't going to be the best kid. The most intelligent. The most powerful. He was just a normal kid, with his eyes green and curious like Rio's, his curls rebellious like Agatha's, and his chubby hands that loved to play with the wet dirt in the forest next to the family's cabin. He was, most of all, curious and nosy. Nicholas loved to snoop on Agatha's things, to watch while Rio brewed her potions and made her rituals in the cabin's basement — he wanted to learn, but he wasn't going to learn anything. Agatha created a futile heir, so futile that she didn't want her surname, Harkness, powerful and almighty, to be related to that child. Nicholas Scratch it is — only a scratch of what Agatha wanted him to be.

As they went into the dark forest, hand in hand, Agatha was growing tired of hearing Nicholas' sobs, pained as Agatha squeezed his tiny hands in hers, her own boney and scarred and most of all, corrupted. Corrupted by the very thing that was convincing her to do that — to sacrifice her own... creation. Her own vessel. To get stronger. To finally achieve what she wanted.

Power.

"M-mother, where are we going?"

Agatha didn't answer. She threw Nicholas on the wet grass, next to a big boulder that was covered in mud and moss. She flicked her wrist, taking out the Darkhold of the pocket dimension she created to store it in. As Agatha pulled the Darkhold, in a cloud of dark purple and black magic, Nicholas started to cry louder, his weeping making the birds on the trees fly away to somewhere they knew they wouldn't be hurt by the monster in the woods.

O mihi potestatem. Propitius esto, et intende conatus meos ut hoc tibi do.

Agatha would whisper, her eyes closed and sparkling purple through her eyelids. She lifts her wrist, her whole body sparkling purple, the noise and Nicholas' pained screams echoing by the until now silent forest. She looks down at the body in front of her, now lifeless and cold, dry and dead — just like that one damned day in 1693, where she looked down at the dead bodies of her coven members and coven leader. She couldn't call Evanora her mother - a mother wouldn't do what she did with Agatha. Her own daughter. Her own blood.

No mother would.

Brutus betrayed him.

Brutus killed him.

Brutus sacrificed him.

As he got up and looked around, he saw a forest covered by snow and darkness. How much time passed, he couldn't say. He didn't know what date it was — and yet, he knew exactly where to go. With his body full of hatred, Nicholas Scratch got up, feet weak and unsure, as he got used to the bigger body he now had. He was now an adult — what his mother's magic did to him, he didn't know. Only thing he noticed was now he had an adult body and the mind of a troubled kid who wanted nothing but to avenge what was done to him many, many years ago.

His hair was long just like his mother's. Curly and unruly, getting past his lower back in a mess of black and some white strands — he was literally a portrait of the one who betrayed him. Nicholas had nothing in common with his mama, the one that really loved him for what he was; only the troubled green in his eyes that contrasted with the weak green from the leaves that were not covered by the thick snow. Nicholas couldn't even feel the cold, piercing through his body. He was blind. Blind by hatred, sadness and by the desire of revenge.

As he marched through the forest, his feet unsure, he pulled strands and strands of his hair, hissing through his teeth. He didn't want this. He wanted to rip every part of his body that reminded him of Agatha Harkness. He could cut his head off, then give it to some wild bear to eat, together with his own body and skin and meat and soul.

Do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul. Rather, be afraid of the One who can destroy both soul and body in hell.

He ripped a tuft of hair from his head, looking at it being held by his trembling hand. Nicholas growls, throwing the tuft out in the woods and running — running in bare feet as he gets out of the woods. He could see an old cabin, full of moss and broken, the wood chopped and glass shattered. His family's old cabin.

Nicholas runs even faster, getting to the door and just throwing his body against it, the door falling on the other side of the cabin in a loud thud. He gets up from the floor, looking around in an exasperated manner, his eyes crazed and twitching. The state of the cabin was chaotic — things on the floor, dust in the air. He could still smell the darkness and electricity from Agatha's magic, contrasting with the familiar scent from Rio's magic, calming and misty. He knew that the magic that stayed in the cabin wasn't recent - if it was recent, there would be the magic aura mixing together, purple and green. There was nothing.

"Mama?" Nicholas rasps out, his voice gravelly and throaty. He walks through the cabin, going straight to the stairs that went to the bewitched basement below him. He jumps to the last step, his feet almost failing and throwing him to the ground as he holds himself on the wall. Nicholas enters the basement, the basement looking even messier than the rest of the cabin. Nicholas could see some dried blood stains on the walls - that made him almost puke, thinking about what Agatha did to Rio.

Mama can't be dead. She can't. She can't. She can't. She can't. Nicholas would chant, his hands holding his own head while he walked around the basement, looking for anything that could be proof that Rio was okay. Anything.

Nicholas screamed his mother's name, hatred dripping from his tongue, his voice echoing through the walls.

#agatha harkness #agatha harkness fanfic #nicholas scratch #rio vidal #my writing #agatha coven of chaos #agatha darkhold diaries #love writing 1k+ words just because of a LEAK.

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our-blood-is-our-ink · 2 years

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make me behave//like an animal

Ship: Agatha Harkness x Reader

Summary: Agatha comes home after a long day, looking for a release.

Word Count: 7.3k

Disclaimer: 18+ ONLY minors dni

Warnings (not in order): smut, a little fluff, degradation, praise, choking, spanking, magical strap-on use, heavy use of pet names (bunny, little one, little love, etc.), heavy use of slut/whore, spitting, collars, vibrating butt plug, unrealistic fisting, mommy kink, mistress kink, pet play, bondage, mouth fucking, oral sex (Agatha receiving)

Agatha comes home in a dark mood, her anger and frustration immediately alerting you that something is wrong.

“Long day?” You ask from the kitchen counter, where you’re preparing a cup of tea.

“You don't even know the half of it.” Agatha mutters darkly.

You pick up the teabag by its string and shake it gently to get off the excess liquid before tossing it into the garbage.

“Is there any way I can help?” You ask, well knowing what you’re offering.

Agatha sweeps her eyes over you, her face still stormy. “Strip.” She commands.

You bite your lip as you slowly set down the mug you had been about to take a sip from, bringing your hands to the hem of your shirt.

“Now, slut.”

You sharply inhale at the name as you pull your shirt off, dropping it to the floor as you quickly unbutton your pants.

Evidently, it isn't fast enough for Agatha, because her hand finds its way around your throat.

“You can't even follow simple instructions, can you?” She demands.

The lack of oxygen is making your head spin in an entirely pleasant way and you can't help the moan that makes its way out of you.

“Look at you, such a dumb little whore. I should have known better than to ask so much of you.” Agatha tsks, her unoccupied hand snaking its way behind your back in order to unclasp your bra.

“Atha.” You whine.

You realize your mistake as soon as Agatha's face darkens.

“What did you just call me?” Her voice is dangerously low and it sends a throb of arousal straight through you.

She clearly wants an answer as she steps back, allowing you to breathe properly.

“I’m sorry.” You whimper. “I'm sorry mommy. I didn't mean to.”

It's not the answer she's looking for.

“I think you did.” She says, tight anger lacing her voice. “And here I thought you wanted to be my good girl.”

“I do! I promise! I'm your good girl, mommy!” You cry out, desperate to avoid whatever punishment she has decided is fitting.

Agatha slowly shakes her head, her eyes focused on you.

“No, no! Please, mommy! I just want to make you feel good, I just want to be your good girl! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. I swear!”

“That's all you want? To make your mommy feel good?” She inquires softly, her face unreadable.

You nod eagerly.

“Very well. But not in here.” Agatha decides, and you can't help the sense of relief that floods through you. “We'll do this on the couch.”

You move to follow her when she turns around and raises an eyebrow.

“Is that how good pets are supposed to walk?”

Realizing you've made yet another mistake in your eagerness to please, you violently shake your head and drop to your knees.

There's a moment of stillness before Agatha snaps.

“Well? You don't seem so desperate to apologize as you were just a few seconds ago.”

Your eyes are cast downwards, and you swallow hard.

“I forgot.”

“You forgot to say you're sorry?” Agatha asks, eyebrow raised.

“No. I forgot that good pets crawl.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, and you can feel yourself on the verge of tears. “Sorry isn't enough.”

There's a pause, and then you let out a yell when Agatha's fingers harshly twist into your hair, yanking your head viciously upwards.

“You're right.” She hisses. “Sorry isn't enough.”

Her other hand comes up to your face, the palm of it coming to rest right below your chin as her fingers squeeze your cheeks in a painful manner.

“Stick out your tongue.”

You comply, and you watch with wide eyes and growing arousal as Agatha spits onto it.

You can feel it, an almost burning sensation where it rests on your tongue.

“Keep it there.” Agatha orders as she detangles her fingers from your hair and drops her hold of your face.

She flicks a hand and you shiver at how you're suddenly fully exposed to the cool house air.

You watch as she walks around you, and you can't help the whimper that finds its way out from you as you hear ceramic and granite clink against each other.

Agatha's drinking the tea you've made, and knowing her, she'll purposely take a good long while.

Which means you'll have to stay here, kneeling on the hard kitchen tiles, entirely naked with your tongue sticking out for who knows how long.

You feel a shot of fear go through you when you realize it's a distinct possibility that by the time Agatha decides she's finished, the spit that's soaking your tongue will have dried out.

You must've let out another whimper, because the next thing you know, Agatha's boots are filling the space of floor you had been staring at.

“Is something wrong?”

Her tone is cold, and you feel a shiver go down your spine as you realize she's setting you up to fail. She wants to punish you.

She doesn't care if you're trying to be her good girl, because it simply won't be enough. Not at this moment. Not when she's looking to take her frustrations out on you in a way you hadn't anticipated when you offered to help her relieve some steam.

You look up to meet her eyes, noting how wide her pupils are blown.

You make a decision.

You swallow her spit.

You can see the way Agatha stills, can sense that you've surprised her with your sudden bratty behavior.

It's very rare that you act up like this.

“I want you to think very carefully.” Though Agatha's tone hasn't shifted, her voice sounds rougher. “You have one chance, one opportunity to apologize, to make this up to me.”

“And if I don't?” You defiantly ask.

“Stand up.” Agatha softly commands, a dangerous edge to her words.

You stand.

“Turn around and bend over the counter.”

You open your mouth to ask if perhaps she'd like to do that for you instead, when you’re suddenly reeling backward, your head ringing from the force of her slap.

“Counter. Bend over. Now.” Agatha bites out.

You comply, shivering as your nipples and chest is pressed against the cool surface of the counter.

“I come home from an awful day.” Her voice fills up the kitchen, anger dripping from every word. “And you offer to make it better.”

You let out a gasp when her hand smacks your ass hard.

“But instead, what do you choose to do?”

Another angry smack.

“You choose to be a fucking brat.”

You let out a cry when she directly slaps your throbbing cunt, your knees buckling slightly from the force of it, pain mixing with pleasure.

“Spread your legs.”

When it takes a second too long for you to understand what Agatha is saying through the fog that is steadily seeping into your mind, she roughly does it for you, harshly digging her nails into the soft skin of your thighs in order to do so.

“Look at how wet you are, getting off on being such a bad girl, being disrespectful, and disobeying mommy.”

A moan catches itself halfway out your mouth as Agatha brutally shoves two fingers into you, pumping them in and out harshly once, twice, three, four times before stilling them while they're buried deep into your dripping hole.

“Squeeze.”

You don't even realize you're obeying her instruction as you do so, your mind growing fuzzier and fuzzier.

You let out a pained gasp when Agatha pulls her fingers out, your pussy still clenched hard around them.

You hear Agatha hum, causing you to whimper, knowing she must be sucking your essence off of her fingers.

“You taste so fucking good. It's a pity you chose to misbehave, I would have loved to bury my tongue in that tight little cunt of yours.” Agatha comments.

You inhale sharply at the thought, starting to regret your bratty antics.

“Yes, you should have thought twice before acting up, but evidently it was too much to expect such a dumb little thing like yourself to know better.” Agatha says, having heard you take in a breath. “Clearly, you can't be trusted to even think for yourself, you're obviously too much of a stupid slut to be.”

A soft whine leaves you as you can feel Agatha's presence invade your headspace, furthering the fuzziness that had started to cloud your thoughts.

“There, isn't that better?” Agatha asks. “Letting mommy do all the thinking for you?”

You nod as you feel your eyes glazing over, struggling to grasp at words that now float on the edge of your consciousness.

“I need to hear you say it, bunny.” Agatha chides, her tone dangerously soft.

Arousal at the sound of her voice throbs through you.

“Y-yes.” Your voice hitches, it's a struggle to get out the single word and you shiver as you feel Agatha's fingers dance across your backside.

“Yes, what slut?”

You whine. Words are far too difficult to wrangle even within your own head right now, and Agatha knows that, she's the reason for it.

“Yes, what slut?”

She sharply smacks you again, and it leaves you feeling even more lightheaded and dizzy.

“Yes mommy, it's much better when you do the thinking for me.” You somehow manage to gasp out.

“That's what I thought. Dumb whore.”

Agatha's hand returns to your backside, this time to gently rub at the irritated skin.

You press your head further into your arms that are still folded against the countertop.

“Please punish me.” You beg, unable to take the way Agatha is causing your guilt for disobeying to skyrocket. “I just want to be your good girl again.”

Agatha stills her hand against you.

“Say that again.” She orders.

“Please, please mommy.” You feel something wet against your arms and realize you've started crying. “Please punish me. I want to be punished, I need to be punished so I can be your good girl again. I wanna be your good girl, wanna make mommy proud and feel good.” You babble, words that had just been so hard moments ago now freely flowing as you admit to needing correcting, longing for it even. You hate it when your mommy is upset at you. “Just wanna be good.” You sob.

“Oh, bunny.” Agatha sighs. “You are good, but sometimes you do bad things, and then mommy has to punish you so you know better. You have to make things up to me, otherwise, how will I know if you're sorry? That you'll stay good? Mommy doesn't like making her little bunny cry, but sometimes you don't leave her a choice.” Gentle arms tug at you, bringing you up from where you're bent over the counter and turning you around.

You stumble into Agatha's front, hands covering your face as you quietly cry into her.

“I'm sorry, I don't mean to.”

“Usually I'd be inclined to believe that.” Agatha says as she soothes a hand over your back. “But that wasn't the case just now, was it now, little one?”

You shake your head against her.

Agatha sighs as her hand moves up to gently card at your hair.

“I suppose you can't be fully to blame. It was unfair of me to come in and take my anger and frustration out on you, when it's not you who I'm displeased with.”

“Just wanted to make you feel better.” You agree, your tears slowly drying up as Agatha presses a soft kiss against the top of your head.

“How about I make it up to you? Hm? A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for mommy to make you feel good after acting up, what do you say my love?”

Agatha's offer draws your attention back to just how turned on you are, how wetness practically drips from your aching, empty cunt, and a sudden longing to be filled by your mommy floods you.

“Please make me feel good. I'm sorry for disobeying mommy.” You plead, pulling back just enough to be able to meet her eyes.

Agatha's hand is gentle as it comes up to cradle your cheek, her thumb swiping at a stray tear. “I know you are, bunny.”

You turn your head in order to nuzzle Agatha's palm and press a soft kiss into it.

“I'm sorry I couldn't help make you feel better the way you wanted.” You whisper.

Out of the corner of your eye you see the way Agatha's face suddenly turns guilty. “That’s not something to be sorry for little love.” She says. “I never want to feel better about something as a result of treating you poorly.”

You look at her, blinking. “I would have safe worded if I really thought I couldn't take it.”

Agatha stares at you.

“I would've.” You mumble.

“Would you?” Her voice is small, and it's such a drastic change to how she sounded mere moments ago.

You nod. “I… Probably enjoyed the way you were treating me a little too much.” You can feel your cheeks flush. “I guess it's just… Overwhelming. You haven't- I haven't-” You take a deep breath, steadying yourself. Your mind still feels fuzzy around the edges, the lure of subspace strong. “We haven't exactly done something like this before.”

“Oh.” Agatha's eyes are slightly rounded, shocked. “What about it did you like?”

If your cheeks weren't red before, they definitely were now.

“It was the… It's the disregard.” You bury your face back into Agatha's front, this time from embarrassment.

“Disregard?”

“I like being used.” You clarify. “Wanna just be your fuck toy.”

Agatha sucks in a breath, causing her chest to heave against you as she releases it.

“Mommy likes that?” You ask as the sensations of subspace come flooding back, giving in to the desire to be in that floaty headspace, pulling back once more so you can look at your partner.

“Mommy likes that very much.” Agatha rasps, a dark gleam in her eye.

You shiver.

“Please use me mommy.” You beg. “Just wanna be a good fuck toy for you. Just another plaything to use.”

“That's a big word for my little bunny.” Agatha notes.

You blink at her. “Mommy uses that word all the time.”

And Agatha throws back her head and laughs at that, the last of the tension between the two of you draining away.

“So I do, little one. Come, let's get you all comfortable so mommy can use you.” She gestures for you to move back, but you remember earlier and give her a big smile as you drop to your knees in order to get on all fours, wiggling your ass a little, proud of yourself for remembering how to be a good pet.

“Someone's missing her cute little tail in her cute little hole.” Agatha says with a soft smile.

You can feel yourself clench around air at the statement, can practically feel the exact plug your mommy is describing, how it fills you up so well, how good it feels when she also fills up your other hole with one of her strap-ons.

You gently bump your nose against her leg. “Can I please wear it?”

Agatha looks down at you for a few long moments before nodding. “Yes, I think you can. You also may wear it.”

You're too happy at the prospect of your request being granted to be annoyed about Agatha correcting your grammar.

“Thank you, mommy! You're the best.” You declare.

Something flickers in her eyes, her soft smile briefly disappearing before returning to her face. “Only the best for mommy's good little bunny.”

You beam up at her, and she melts, just a little bit.

“Let's get to our bed, hm? I bet you're just dripping at the thought of mommy using you little one.”

You whine in agreement, following Agatha like the good pet she's come to expect.

“First,” she says once you're sitting on your knees on the bed. “I think you're missing something around that pretty neck of yours.”

You're overcome by a wave of lightheadedness as Agatha dangles your collar from her fingertips.

It's a pretty purple and black thing, a gold front piece that hangs the tag that reads Property of Agatha Harkness on it, where your mommy will sometimes clip a leash to.

You hold still as Agatha puts it on you, tapping at her arm when she attempts to close it one hole too tight.

“Is this better?” Her breath ghosts the shell of your ear, causing you to shiver.

“Yes mommy, much.”

Agatha hooks two fingers under it and tugs experimentally, jerking your head back slightly in the process.

“Alright bunny, be a good little pet for mommy and lay on your tummy so we can get that tail of yours into you.”

You eagerly comply, slightly pushing your ass into the air, as if to tempt Agatha to do more than insert a plug into you.

“Greedy little thing, aren't you.” Agatha comments as you hear the snap of a bottle cap being opened.

“Only for you, mommy.” You reply seriously.

Agatha laughs softly. “Only for me? Are you all mine then?”

Her fingers suddenly are on you, teasing your hole, the liquid on her fingers causing you to flinch a little from how cold it is.

“Mhm.” You hum, struggling once more to find your words. “All mommy's.”

You bite your lip as you feel her fingers retract, holding back the whine that threatened to come out at the loss.

Agatha pushes the plug into you.

Your mouth falls open as you moan loudly while she holds it at the biggest part, stretching you out, a pleasurable burn sweeping through you.

“You look so cute like this bunny, your littlest hole being all stretched out for mommy's amusement. Maybe instead of plugging your greedy hole up, I should fuck it instead, hm?”

You aren't certain what noise you make, just aware that you're suddenly being flipped over with Agatha's blazing eyes meeting yours as you feel the plug sink all the way into you.

You don't think when she presses three of her fingers against your mouth, gladly taking them in, licking and sucking at the blackened digits.

And then she thrusts them, hitting the back of your throat, and it causes you to convulse around them, making you gag hard.

Your hands come up, attempting to wrap around Agatha's wrist and force it back, but she only laughs, a dark sound, as she flicks her unoccupied hand, forcing your own to jump at her accord above your head, bound in purple light.

“Awww… Pretty baby only wants to be used when it's her pretty pussy getting stuffed?” Agatha mocks you patronizingly, fake pouting as you struggle to take in oxygen.

You can feel your eyes tearing as she continues to pull back just enough to give you slight relief before thrusting them in deeper again.

“Too bad little one, you're going to take whatever I give you. Stupid slut didn't think that this would be about her pleasure, did she? When she offered to help her mommy out? Silly bunny. I thought you wanted to be my plaything.”

You somehow manage to whine around the digits that are still gagging you, your eyes rolling into the back of your head and it's like flicking a switch inside of Agatha, she immediately starts thrusting more viciously into your mouth.

You're dizzy from lack of oxygen, and your thoughts have long turned into the same incoherent sounds your mouth is making.

You lose track of the time you lay there on the bed, mouth stretched wide around Agatha's fingers, lost in a haze as degrading praise falls from her lips, utterly focused on the way her digits feel, thrusting in and out, in and out. You begin to get lost in its steady, if fast pace rhythm, head entirely empty as your thoughts are swallowed into the fog of sensations before you could even be aware of trying to think them.

You don't even notice at first when she finally pulls her fingers all the way out of your mouth, aren't even conscious about how loudly you're whining, begging for her to shove them back into you.

“You're so pretty like this.” Agatha says, slipping off the bed. You lazily track her across the room as you pant, only just now realizing that this entire time Agatha was still fully dressed as she unlaces her boots and pulls her shirt off. “So fucked out from mommy only using your mouth, so desperate for anything I'll give you. I'll bet you’re so focused on mommy's fingers you've completely forgotten about that little tail of yours, haven't you?”

Agatha flicks a hand.

The plug buried deep in your ass suddenly starts vibrating, causing your eyes to screw shut as you let out a series of loud moans. You start bucking your hips upwards, attempting to hump the air, chasing friction that you know won't be granted to you.

“Keep that slutty mouth open for me.” Agatha's voice cuts through the intense fog of nothingness that clouds your mind. Not even thinking, you obey, and moan when wet fabric meets your tongue.

“You like tasting how wet you make mommy, I know. You're going to be a good little pet and keep that there until your mistress says otherwise.”

The word mistress echoes around your head. Agatha rarely uses the term, vastly preferring her usual title of mommy, unless making a point, normally one of ownership.

She owns you entirely, a fact you sometimes forget and you feel lucky she takes the effort to remind you.

You force your eyes open, wanting to convey you understood what Agatha was telling you, and are met by the mouthwatering temptation her body is.

“Does my slutty little bunny want to touch her mommy?” Agatha coos, condescending as she sees the way your eyes roam over her.

You whimper, knowing that you won't be allowed, no matter how badly you wish to make your mommy scream your name as she allows you to bring her to ecstasy.

“You know, mommy isn't always mean.” Agatha fake pouts, mocking. “I'll let you touch.”

A thrill of excitement goes through you before it's immediately overtaken by desperation as purple magic glows around your lower body, fading away to reveal a strap-on, thick and dark blue.

“What's the matter, I thought you were my cockwhore?” Agatha teases, purposely misusing the term. “Don't you want to feel it as mommy stretches herself around you, bouncing on your pretty dick?”

You moan around the wet panties that are in your mouth, your hips bucking.

“I'll take that as a yes.” Agatha grins wickedly as she forces your body to stay still, strong hands gripping your thighs as she moves to straddle you. “Maybe if you make me cum, I'll consider taking that gag out of your mouth and riding your face.”

There's a brief moment of silence before you groan in unison with Agatha as she slowly sinks down onto your length, her magic enabling you to feel how warm and tight she is around you.

It isn't very difficult to admit how beautiful your mommy looks with her pussy stretched around you, head thrown back as she attempts to breathe through the initial sensation of being so full, the exposed column of her throat so cruelly tempting.

You feel your eyes roll around in your head, and your hips, having been freed of Agatha's grip, buck upwards into her, causing her to moan loudly as the rest of the synthetic cock is forced into her.

“Be a good girl and stay still, you fucking slut.” Agatha breathlessly orders, a hand coming to wrap its way around your throat, pressing your collar forcefully against your neck in the process.

And you do try so very hard to listen, but the utterly overwhelming pleasure that shoots through you as Agatha steadily starts bouncing up and down on you makes it impossible to not squirm or move in some capacity. You're not thinking, not anymore, not with this entirely pleasurable fog filling your head. You move on instinct, carnal desire and pleasure overtaking everything else, so much so that you don't even think twice about how vigorously Agatha starts to match your rhythm as you thrust upwards into her, lost to the sensations flooding your body. It feels beyond good the way utter pleasure pulses through you, how warm and tight and stimulating Agatha's dripping cunt feels wrapped around you, how it starts to clench as she nears orgasm, and your entire body tries to leave the ground, your back arching almost painfully upwards, thrusting your hips harshly and suddenly as your head remains thrown back in ecstasy, eyes screwed shut. You're right there, right on the verge, can feel how release is just another second away and Agatha moves back up in order to slam back down onto you when–

Your eyes fly open, a loud noise of protest leaving you as you watch Agatha purposefully stills, slowly sinking back down in order to deny you orgasm, her eyes slightly glazed over as her chest heaves so temptingly as she catches her breath.

What takes away yours is the smirk that stretches across her face, somehow managing to look condescending even when Agatha looks entirely blissed out.

“Awww…” She coos a bit breathlessly as she reaches a hand out to remove her panties that she had stuffed into your mouth. “Is my little bunny upset that mommy helped her not to cum without permission? Silly girl, if you had only controlled yourself mommy would have came herself and rewarded you for helping her. Instead she now has to punish you.”

You whine, but it's not out of fear, not when Agatha is looking at you with that fond look in her eyes.

“Thank you, mommy.” Your voice is hoarse, and you swear you can see how Agatha's blue, blue eyes darken as her pupils dilate significantly.

“You're not really a bad girl, are you? Just a sweet thing that's sometimes too dumb not to break a few rules.” Agatha says.

“I'm a good girl.” You agree.

“Well, since you're my good girl, I suppose I can give you a choice of punishment.” Agatha smiles, a sharp thing that tells you there's little choice in the decision she's going to allow you to make, how she's thinking of the pleasure she'll receive from punishing you. “I can edge you until you pass out.” She leans down, so her lips gently brush against your ear. “Or I can turn you over my lap and spank you until you've dripped a puddle onto the floor.”

You shiver at how soft and low her voice is, gently closing your eyes as you try to think, a task more difficult than it should be.

A few brief moments of silence pass before you give up and impulsively blurt out, “spanking. I want to be spanked please, mommy.”

“That wasn't so hard to pick, now was it, my cute little slut?” Agatha purrs, making your head swirl with how lightheaded her tone makes you feel.

She moves, shifting herself off of you and sitting at the edge of the bed, flicking her hand to release you of the magical bonds that kept your hands above your head.

“Come here and lay across mommy's lap.” She orders.

You carefully shuffle yourself to her, doing as instructed so that your bottom half is draped across her.

Agatha gently tugs on the plug still buried deep in your ass, and in doing so causes you to realize that at some point she had turned it off.

“What do you think, bunny? Should I keep this cute tail of yours in you, or would you rather it come out for your punishment?” Agatha teases, tugging at it with more strength before letting it sink back in.

You whimper. “Keep it in, mommy. Please. Feels good.”

She hums in response. “Ready for mommy to start?”

You nod your head, heart starting to race in anticipation of the first blow.

“Count for me.” Is all the warning you get before Agatha smacks your ass, hard.

“One.” You gasp out, the stinging pain flowing through you. “Thank you, mommy.”

Agatha doesn't bother to soothe over the afflicted area, barely waiting a few seconds between your words and the next blow.

“Two.” Your voice catches. “T-thank you, mommy.” You wonder how long it'll take before you're a moaning, squirming mess, given how hard Agatha is hitting you.

“I wish I didn't have to punish you so often, slut.” Agatha comments between the sounds of your counting and thanking her as she rains the blows down. “As much as mommy likes seeing you a crying, begging mess, she'd much rather have you on your knees serving her like a good little pet.”

You whimper at her words, and she continues to spank you roughly.

It goes on like that for a bit, her smacking you and you thanking her as you count when you suddenly let out a small scream when she spanks you particularly hard unexpectedly.

“Aren't you going to thank me?” Her voice is hard, angry at your silence as you brace yourself for the next hit.

“T-twen-twenty.” You force yourself to say. “Than-thank you.”

“Thank you, who, brat?” Agatha hisses.

“Tha-thank you, mom-mommy.” You start crying, a release of emotion that you hadn't been aware of welling up and overflowing. “Thank-thank you for correcting your st-stupid sl-slutty bunny.”

“I'd call you a good girl if you weren't currently being punished for being so bad.” Agatha says, and you cry some more at that.

“I'm sorry mommy for being bad, I'm sorry for being a bad bratty bunny trying to cum without permission, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.”

You let out a little louder scream than the last when Agatha's hand sharply meets the sensitive flesh of your backside.

“Twe-twenty-one.” You're sobbing now, tears streaming down your cheeks earnestly. “Thank yo-you, mommy.”

Agatha doesn't acknowledge your words this time, simply opting to continue in your punishment.

You lose track of what you're saying at some point around the thirty-fourth spank, pleasure starting to outweigh the pain, causing you to feel utterly alight.

Moans mix with your sobs, and eventually Agatha must have decided she's abused your ass enough because she then smacks your aching cunt directly.

You scream.

It's the exact friction your body has been craving and you cum all over your mommy's lap, can hear how your essence drips down and splashes against the hardwood flooring.

And yet still, you count, uttering thanks to Agatha for taking the time to make sure you know how to be nothing but a good pet for her, and she groans, loudly and full of lust.

“Oh little one, you have no idea how beautiful you are like this.” She says as you rut against thin air, squirming in her lap as the last of the aftershocks pass through you. “Such a good girl for remembering to count like that, to tell mommy how thankful you are.”

You're still seeing stars in your vision, your head entirely floating on cloud nine, full of fluff and air as you ask, “mommy won't punish her toy for cumming without permission?”

You can feel how Agatha shifts a little beneath you at the question, can feel the way the muscles flex as she arches her head back and then forward again.

“No, little one, not right now. Mommy just wants her pretty toy to eat her out like the good pet she knows you are.” Her voice is slightly strained, and you realize that Agatha is more affected from watching you cum from being spanked than you thought.

You can hear how heavily she's breathing as she waits, giving you a little time to regain control of your limbs as a wave of tired content crashes over you.

“‘M ready now.” You mumble, forcing your eyes open as you slip off of Agatha's lap, wincing as you kneel, your heels digging into your sore backside. The wetness against your knees from the puddle of cum you ignore, looking up at Agatha pleadingly. “Wanna make mistress feel good.” You let slip Agatha's rarely used title, longing to feel owned entirely as you gaze up at her prettily flushed face, her eyes nearly all black from how aroused she is, lips parted slightly as she gazes down at you.

“Mommy owns you, doesn't she? You're just a plaything all for my use.” Her voice is low, and it causes your pussy to throb. “Mistress loves using her cute little toy however she wishes, how lucky I am that I have such a willing one, so easy to break in.”

“Please mistress, let me be a good girl for you.” You beg, gently laying a hand on each thigh. “I want to make you feel good.”

Agatha's lips turn upwards in an indulging smile as she slowly spreads her legs, exposing her soaked center.

“That shouldn't be too hard, little one. Look at how wet you've made your mommy already.”

Your mouth waters at the sight, a breathless moan leaving you as you fixate on Agatha's dripping cunt.

“Go on, bunny. I can see how much you want to.” Agatha encourages, a hand tangling in your hair, guiding you forward.

You don't need further invitation than that, eagerly diving in, pressing your nose flush against her clit as you delve your tongue deep into her, not bothering to be gentle about it.

Agatha jerks forward when you do, a loud whimper leaving her as you eat her out.

“Fuck- right there, right ther- don't stop.”

Your hands prevent her thighs from closing in, you can feel the way they strain against your hold, which only encourages you more, determined to hear Agatha make all of the prettiest sounds you've ever heard.

If you could live the rest of your life like this, situated between Agatha's thighs and drinking in the very taste of her, you would. It's an enticing thought, to imagine bringing her constant pleasure, to make her pull at your hair and buck her hips further into your mouth while breathless noises spill out from within her.

It doesn't take long for Agatha to cum, her legs closing around you, and you happily suffocate as you continue to lick and suck at her now sopping wet pussy, easily pushing her over the edge a second time, not giving her a moment to recover from the first. Her hand remains tangled in your hair, keeping you in place as she uses your face to ride out the aftershocks, moaning as she does so.

“Mommy.” You whisper against her. “I want to make you cum again.”

She doesn't hear it, not with how quietly you expressed your desire, not with how your words are muffled against her, but you can hear the whimper she lets out as the vibration of your voice makes her clit throb.

You take it as permission, gently taking the little bud between your lips and sucking, flicking your tongue every so often against it.

Agatha nearly screams as a third wave crashes over her, you can hear it in her loud inhale, how there's a moment of loud sound before her body shakes and goes rigid, and you can't help but feel pleased with yourself that you've managed to make her cum so hard, even as she violently jerks your head away from her, her grip on your hair becoming painful enough your eyes can't help but water.

“Did I do good?” You ask once you see Agatha's somewhat caught her breath, though her chest still heaves so invitingly.

“You did very good, bunny.” Her voice is rough and slightly breathless, her eyes still closed as she wills for her limbs to stop shaking. “Such a good girl.”

Her hand loosens from its place tangled in your hair which allows you to rest your head on her thigh, getting the wetness that coats the bottom half of your face onto her skin.

“You're making a mess.” Humor colors Agatha's tone, and you smile up at her.

“I can always clean it.”

A hand comes down to tenderly play with your hair, and you sigh contently, closing your eyes and focusing on the sensation.

You stay like that for a while, gently breathing as you focus on matching your breaths with Agatha's, who starts softly humming.

“Mommy?” You ask after some time. “Can you make me cum again?”

The humming stops, and her hand stills against your head. “I really should punish you for earlier…”

You stay quiet, hoping Agatha will decide to be nice.

“How about this, little one. Mommy will start on a bath for us, and you'll have the time while it's filling up to get off on her fingers.”

Your head shoots up at the offer. “Yes, please!”

Agatha smiles indulging at you. “Alright then bunny. Get onto the bed and wait, I'll be right back.”

You go to do as she instructs, when she stops you by putting a hand on your arm, giving you a quick kiss against your forehead before standing up herself.

“One minute.” She promises.

You settle comfortably against the pillows as you hear the thundering sound of the tub being turned on.

You close your eyes and allow your hands to wander while you wait, cupping your tits before teasing your nipples, light whimpers falling from your mouth as you make yourself all sensitive, your pussy starting to throb with an aching need as you rekindle the burning arousal that had cooled to embers.

“Fuck, mommy. I need you.” You pant, spreading your legs wide open as you imagine her filling you up. “Need you inside me so bad.”

“Oh, you need me, huh?”

At the sound of Agatha's voice, you smile and open your eyes.

“I'd hate to not meet your needs, bunny.” She hovers over you, a hand coming up to caress your cheek.

“Please.” You whine. “I'm so empty and wet.”

Her lips find yours, and for a moment you lose yourself in the kiss, slow and sensual, before Agatha pulls back.

“Spread your legs back open. Be a good little whore for me.”

You obey, arousal continuing to leak from your dripping hole as you watch her trail her fingers down toward your soaking cunt.

“Oh fuck.” You breathlessly gasp when your mommy stuffs three fingers into you without warning, the slick feeling accompanying it telling you that she had covered them in lube.

“Look at this greedy pussy.” Agatha mocks. “So desperate for me it'll take whatever I'll give it.”

You moan in agreement. “Feel so good. So, so good mommy. Wanna feel like this all the time, wanna be a messy slut for you.”

“You want to be a messy slut for me? I think we can arrange for that.” Agatha's voice is pitched low with her own arousal, and her eyes have a dark gleam in them you miss entirely as you lose yourself to the pleasure overtaking you.

“Mommy!” You cry out when she suddenly adds a fourth finger. “Too much!”

“Aw, I'm sure my precious whore can take another finger. Don't you just love the idea of mommy's entire hand being inside of you? So full of her that you can't do anything but take it?”

You snap your legs open when she harshly smacks a thigh for them daring to try to close.

“Answer me, bunny.”

“Yes! Yes, I'm your whore mommy, just a slutty plaything to use. Want your hand, please, please. Gonna cum from it, gonna cum so good.” You babble as you buck your hips, hands reaching for something to grasp, finding the bed sheets as the closest option.

“Good girl.” Agatha purrs, and your brain stutters to a halt when she does just as promised, maneuvering her fingers so she can slip the final blackened digit inside of you.

“Oh bunny, you look so pretty.” Agatha breathes out.

A strangled sound leaves you as your eyes roll in the back of your head.

“I can feel how close you are. Mommy can tell you just need a little push.”

You don't have time to wonder what Agatha is planning as you convulse the moment the vibrator in your littlest hole turns on, a white-hot wave of ecstasy crashing down on you, causing a ringing in your ears and spots of black to dance in your vision.

Everything goes fuzzy, pure static filling your brain as you buck and writhe, riding out what is one of the most intense orgasms you have ever experienced.

“-UCK! AGATHA!”

It takes you a second to realize that it's your hoarse voice that fills the air, that it's you who's screaming her name.

“Fuck, love.” Agatha's own voice sounds hoarse and utterly awe-struck. “You’re so pretty like this, I was right. God, you look absolutely irresistible coming undone around my hand. Shit, baby.”

You're too out of it to really process what she's saying, but not too out of it to try to protest when she carefully, carefully removes her hand from in you, the tail plug still vibrating.

“I know, bunny. Give mommy three seconds.”

You whimper as you see through your blurry vision Agatha getting up, leaving you panting on the bed.

The sudden quiet causes you to remember the bath that Agatha had left running.

You can see the vague outline of her returning, and a soft kiss presses itself against your sweaty temple.

“I'm going to have to take out your tail now, love.” She softly says. “Can you be a good girl for me and turn onto your tummy?”

“Feel like jello.” You complain.

“Even jello can flop around.”

You groan, but summon up the last scraps of your willpower to listen, rolling over so that your face is now buried into the pillows.

There's a still silence that falls over the room when Agatha turns the vibrator off, and you moan, oversensitive, when she slowly and gently pulls it out of you.

“If I thought you could handle it, I'd be fucking your little greedy hole right now.” Agatha comments.

“Maybe tomorrow.” You mumble into the pillows. “Just wanna cuddle with you now.”

“I think that's a good idea, dear.” She agrees. “Flip over onto your back again.”

You huff, but the absence of the tail plug makes you feel a little less jello-y, and you find it easier to obey.

“There's my pretty girl.” Agatha's face lights up, and you offer a sleepy smile back.

“You gonna carry me now?”

“I am, angel. Just let me-” She slips off the bed, before using her magic to pull you into her arms. “There. Here we go.”

You wrap your arms around her neck and nuzzle the point where it meets her shoulder.

“Did I help with the long day?” You ask, recalling how you ended up here.

“More than. I'm so lucky to have such a wonderful bunny like you.” She answers.

“I'm lucky to have a mommy like you.” You reply. “The best mommy.”

“I suppose it's only right, because you're the best bunny.” Agatha says, the softest smile you have ever seen gracing her features.

“And I'm all yours.” You insist as Agatha lays the both of you down in the tub, eyes fluttering close at the warmth of the water and the heat of her skin.

“And you're all mine.” She softly agrees.

As you drift off to the soothing rhythm of her heartbeat, you hear her whisper against you, “I love you, my darling. I love you more than you could ever know.”

#kathryn hahn #agatha harkness #agatha harkness x reader #wandavision #house of harkness #marvel #hopefully I nailed the header pictures #also look!#I've finally posted actual writing!#also this has got to be the smuttiest thing I've ever written #this was also supposed to be soft!dark!agatha but uh #it's just soft!agatha #mostly #sky writes

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