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Fake Marriage, Real Hands

Summary:

Wanda wants some off-air entertainment. Her fake-married neighbours are encouraged to fulfil that want.

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“Darling,” Agatha calls from the window bay.

You’re on the couch, looking over the newspaper for any inaccuracies or magical hiccups. The level of detail it has is a little scary to think about. With the way Agatha has described Wanda’s life being a television show, you had originally thought that everything was a prop. Yet the only thing off about the newspaper Agatha took from Wanda’s house is how new it looks.

“Sweetheart,” you call back in a deadpan voice.

You’re right there. She could just turn around and talk to you.

“Don’t be like that,” she says and sashays over. “I know you missed your little get together with your friends but meeting the new neighbour is more important, wouldn’t you say?”

You sit up straighter the second you hear her voice. It’s different. Higher, and softer. You paste a smile on when she mentions your friends. You’re stuck in here. Beholden first to the whims of the witch who had saved you and taken up residence in your home, and second to your witch neighbour. Who happens to be insanely powerful and has brainwashed the whole town.

You aren’t sure how powerful Agatha is in comparison to Wanda but she has finangled her way into the main storyline without suspicion and dragged you along with her as her wife. Being single is too big of an inaccuracy for the time period but two lesbians is apparently just fine.

Agatha hasn’t really explained the logic or magic to you. Only that Wanda can see what happens inside the house thanks to her magic but Agatha can always tell when Wanda’s paying attention. Agatha can protect her and your thoughts from being read. Which is a blessing because she had very flippantly told you where you would have been staying otherwise and your attic hasn’t been cleaned in a very long time. Being Wanda’s slave stuck motionlessly in one room hadn’t sounded any better.

She’s watching, Agatha says needlessly into your mind.

“I’m not that sad,” you say, the script Agatha gives you feels natural to follow now. “You know how the girls get when someone new moves to town.”

“Don’t I ever,” Agatha says as she plops down beside you. “You sure you aren’t upset hon? I thought of something that might cheer you up.”

“Oh?” you must be misinterpreting her tone. Her eyes drop to your lips. “Oh.” You were not. Well, the show has kept well away from anything explicitly sexual. Wanda will get bored soon. You can play along. “It’s the middle of the day.”

“We haven’t got anywhere to be.”

Agatha leans closer. You haven’t really talked about this part of the pretend relationship. With shows back in the day not daring to even air handholding, you hadn’t thought you needed to. That doesn’t mean you haven’t thought about it. Agatha is magnetic and Agnes is flirty enough to have you burning up.

She’s starting to get suspicious, Agatha says. You’re not sure what’s nerves and what’s fear but you lean in and kiss her. Your goal was to keep it light. Barely more than a brush of your lips to keep Wanda reassured. Agatha has different plans.

She presses closer. A hand lands on your thigh and quickly climbs higher. You almost pull back but instead of diving under your skirt she uses it to pull you closer. The moment you lean into it her other hand reaches out and she drags you onto her lap, slotting a thigh between your own. You make a surprised sound but she doesn’t let your lips part for long. You indulge in the feeling for a few moments longer before pulling back, needing to breathe.

“Someone’s eager,” you say. Is she still paying attention? you ask.

Yes. Agatha drags you across her thigh. You moan into her mouth.

“I’ve missed you,” Agatha murmurs as she trails a line of slow kisses down your neck.

“We’re barely ever apart.”

“I’ve missed this. We’ve been so busy with the new neighbour.”

You feel a wave of— of something, outside of yourself, the moment Wanda is referenced. You pull back again.

“Save it for tonight, hound dog,” that’s a nickname people used around this time, right? You have no idea. “I’ll plan something special. Right now I need to finish this.”

You push yourself up. Agatha lets you go with an exaggerated pout. You’re about to make a joke when you blink.

Agatha is above you, straddling you. Her dress is gone. Your shirt is gone. The cold leather of the couch is a shock to your warm skin. You gape up at her for the half-second you get before she’s kissing you again.

She really wants to watch this happen, she says and you can feel her amusement. Your brain hasn’t caught up with the sudden change yet. Agatha bites your lip and the slight shock of pain has you present enough to remember you need to try and follow whatever blocked directions Wanda is giving you. Agatha normally tells you what the script is but the wordless commands are absent.

You kiss her back. You hope Wanda assumes something benign about your frozen moment but that thought quickly disappears when Agatha licks into your mouth. Fuck. You moan again.

Agatha’s hands grasp your hips. They’re cold and you shiver. You can’t really think passed her lips. Her hands skim up your sides and settle to play with your tits. You tremble below her.

It’s been so long since you’ve been touched like this it’s almost overwhelming. It’s hard to think but Wanda is watching. You need to perform.

You hesitantly raise your hands and rest them on Agatha’s shoulders. You feel her amusement.

“Don’t be shy, hon. You’ve seen it all before.”

Right. Totally. Except you haven’t and you have no idea how you’re meant to act like you are. You reach behind her and undo the clasp of her bra. Agatha pushes past your hesitation by pulling it off herself. You gape at her.

“And here I thought you were exaggerating when you said every time you see me naked it’s like the first time.”

You’d think it’s a good save if you could think at all. Agatha is above you, on you, in all her naked glory.

“You can touch,” Agatha prompts you. Swallowing hard, you do. Agatha hums and pushes her chest forward. You get a little braver, pinching and rolling her nipples until Agatha’s face relaxes into one of pleasure. You’re wondering if you should find a way to stop or brave reaching lower when Agatha makes the decision for you. She grasps your wrists and guides your hands to her hips.

“Good job, hon,” she smiles. You try not to visibly react. Her smile growing tells you you’ve failed. “Need a hand?”

You don’t need to ask if Wanda is still watching. You can feel her, like a pressure building against your skin. Is Agatha losing control or is it only your thoughts and autonomy she protects?

You nod mutely. Your brain isn’t quite online yet. Agatha looks almost eager as she helps you out of your bra. Is that what she’s really feeling or is she playing your wife Agnes? Her hands drop to your skirt and she runs her fingers over it.

“How do you feel about leaving this on? Make everything a bit more naughty,” she gives you a wink. Definitely Agnes.

“Okay,” you breathe. Agatha flips your skirt up and tugs off your underwear. She doesn’t give you time to feel self-conscious. Her hands slide up your thighs and her fingers slide through your wetness. Your legs open wider subconsciously. You hadn’t realised how wet you were. “Oh,” you gasp when she finds your clit.

Her fingers start slow, her eyes intent on your expression. You try to hold still as long as possible but it’s not long until you’re squirming below her. Agatha smirks and trails her fingers lower. Your hips twitch when they nudge your entrance. She quirks a brow in question. Wanda’s presence is a pulsing pressure and it’s been a long time since you’ve felt an ache like this. You nod.

Agatha slips one finger inside of you. She gives you a few experimental pumps before slipping in a second. You moan.

Agatha supports herself with one hand by your shoulder before she leans down to lick and suck at the sensitive spot of your neck. You tense but her hand never slows and the added electricity has you sinking into the feeling. When you’ve relaxed back into her, she scrapes her teeth over the now tender spot before biting down.

Fuck. How did she know you’d like that?

I’m in your head, dear, comes her voice, I know exactly what you like.

Shit.

Agatha sucks and you whimper. She laves her tongue over the new mark after she releases you. Your hips move to meet her thrusting fingers. You don’t remember when they started.

Agatha continues to nip and suck down your neck, sending sparks along your spine and to your core. Wanda’s presence gets stronger the tighter the coil winds inside of you yet you can’t reach your peak. The awareness of someone watching has given your orgasm stage fright. Can you fake it?

You feel something be pulled deep in your mind. Moments later the wave of pleasure crashes. You arch into Agatha with a loud moan. She guides you through it.

Fuck. That might’ve been the hardest you’ve ever come. Agatha’s smirk tells you she caught the thought.

“Alright hon?”

Your voice cracks in the middle of your hum. You can still feel the after effects of Wanda’s own orgasm.

“I think it’s your turn to try and tame this tiger,” Agatha says.

“I’ll try my best,” you say weakly. “I’d never want to leave my wife wanting.”