Multi-Fandom One Shots

Come (Agatha Harkness) NSFW

You returned to your lonely little cottage in the woods with no immediate plans for the rest of your time. But who knew how long that could last so you could afford it. Bits of purple splashed through your aesthetics, your fingers running along the wall as you trekked your hall. It cut through the gold donning nearly every surface in the home. Silver dashed on occasion, turning your simple home into something out of a medieval castle. And you'd know.

The day hadn't been a good one. They never were anymore. They were just... days. Alone. Just you. You weren't sure when that had stopped being enough, but it had been for some time. Perhaps humans truly weren't meant to live so long.

Your musings came to a stop as you stepped into your room. It wasn't yours. I mean, of course it was yours because it was in your house, but your room was lighter and there was a veil over your bed, shielding you when you wanted it. But the room was dark and gothic in a way you could never pull off. But someone else could. And she did it so well. The room was doused in purple, a large medieval bed by the window which was blocking out all light via two very heavy curtains. The floor was carpeted and your closet door was blocked by a massive wardrobe. A vanity donned the wall opposite your new bed and the familiar aesthetic calmed your tumultuous thoughts.

"Hello, dear," floated across the room in a cheery voice.

You refused to break. She visited at times. You enjoyed it, but you were lonely. Maybe you were meant to be lonely. Oh, so not so calm. Nice. Your hands drew together in front of you, a purple mist alluding to binding ropes bringing them together. The mist spread between your palms, manifesting your favourite flowers. Black dahlias. You wouldn't meet her gaze, knowing you'd break, but still cared enough to pick at the petals. "You're back," you rewarded her apology with a response.

Agatha flinched from across the room. Not good. "Of course, I'm back. Couldn't leave you for too long." She eased forward, hoping to get back on your good side with a few touches. It rarely took more than that.

You put the flowers in her hands, disappointing her, before stepping to the wardrobe. "Only 3 decades."

She winced, looking up at you from the flowers. "I'm sorry, dear. Things to do. What's new?" she asked pleasantly. She set the flowers onto the vanity to hover about you again.

"She's dead."

Agatha flinched again. She didn't need to ask who. You only had one other person you cared about besides her. Your mother. "How?" she asked, cautious.

You opened the doors, examining the clothes. Nothing to change into. Nothing that would suit you, at least. You couldn't stand to wear dark colors, and she knew that. Unless, of course, it was violet. "Traitor student kicked her off a building in New York. But not before stabbing her." You shut the doors, turning to walk back out of the room that wasn't yours.

A cool hand closed around yours.

Your eyes slipped shut. No one had touched you in so long. Three decades, to be precise. You pulled your wrist from her grasp, via a fist around hers. Free again, you continued down the hall.

"I'm sorry."

"I'm sure you are," was your only response and it was a bland one.

Violet invaded your senses. Agatha was hardly above using her magic to get what she wanted, especially from you. You landed back in the room, your back against a medieval bed post while Agatha crowded all of your senses. All you could see, smell, hear was all her. You focused on the brooch binding her collar. She touched your face. Another sense overcome. If only she'd kiss you.

Only she didn't. She did as she pleased, as usual, to get what she wanted. As usual. She cupped your face. "I know you feel it."

You met her gaze fearlessly. "The Scarlet Witch," you mocked her obsession, trying to push past.

Her hands found your waist, pushing you back firmly. "Come with me."

You raised an eyebrow, giving her a look as though she were stupid. "To New Jersey?" Your tone was harsh, it cut her, even if she wouldn't admit it.

You just needed a bit of persuasion, that's all. You were in mourning. Alone. You needed to not be alone. And she could give you that. In West View. "You and me, a new place, fresh start?" Agatha offered, looking heart-breakingly pleading.

You slammed your eyes shut, turning away. "So I can watch you obsess over a young woman with more pain than she deserves? No thank you." You finally gathered the strength to push her off of you. "Lest you forget, that was us once upon a time."

A hand clamped down on your hair, yanking from where you could feel it in your scalp. You were forced onto the mattress, topped by an aggressive brunette. "I was trying to ask, be polite, but if you're just going to be a fucking brat-"

"How exactly is me not falling to your latest whim me being a brat?" you demanded.

A harsh slap distracted you from your internal pain, something you desperately needed. That same hand clamped around your throat, cutting off as much air as she could. "I'll just have to convince you."

It took a long moment, but the lack of oxygen scrambled your mind, something else you'd been without for so long. All you craved from a successful sexual encounter was the ability to shut off your brain. And Agatha was only too happy to comply. Your eyes tipped back, your mind blanking.

The block was gone and you gasped for air. You were half naked, you noticed. Your pants and underpants were missing while your blouse was unbuttoned and your bra revealed. "Be a good girl for daddy, love," she coaxed gently.

You melted into the bed, moaning lowly.

With a shit-eating grin, Agatha took advantage of your exposed column. Her fingers danced along your larger belly while her teeth marked you with bruises and bites. She trailed down to the valley between your breasts, her fingers finding homage between your thighs. She gather the wetness you'd tried to ignore and circled your clit, prepared to deliver a simple orgasm if it got her what she wanted. "Come with me," she ordered.

You shook your head, determined.

The violet witch took that as a personal offense and raised her hand once again to squeeze your airway shut. Two fingers dipped within your warm, wet channel. "Don't tell daddy no," Agatha scolded in a firm tone. It nearly made you whimper, but you were stronger now, changed in three decades. She pumped in and out of you, eyes boring down stubbornly. "Come with me."

Unable to think, all you remember was that you were fighting her.. in your way. "N-no," you stuttered out.

Despite the threat from before, Agatha was pleased at this reaction. She'd worried you changed too much. Still her brat. She squeezed tighter, aware if you could argue, you could breathe. She couldn't have that. She also added another finger, aware that would drive you up the wall.

True to form, your back arched, but no sound passed your lips. No breath did either.

"Come with me."

"I..."

Music to her ears, near submission.

"I won't hurt anyone."

"Deal," Agatha immediately surrendered. She wanted you there more than she wanted you in on the fun.

"Deal," you agreed as well.

Adding a fourth finger made your hips lose their rythym, but her next words did far more than any appendage. "Good girl."