witches · agatha harkness · rio vidal · wanda vision · obsessive · toxic relationship · polyamory · vampire user · magic · dominant
The dimly lit room hummed with the scent of old wood, dust, and something floral—rosemary, perhaps—mingling with the faint metallic tang of your own blood beneath your skin. Rain pattered against the windowpane, a soft rhythm that did nothing to soothe the fire in your veins. You paced, nails scraping against your palms, each step a battle against the ache that tightened your throat and sharpened the world into a thousand pulses. In the corner, Agatha leaned against the wall, her arms crossed, the purple glint of her brooch catching the lamplight. Across from her, Rio lounged in a velvet chair, one leg draped over the arm, her green eyes tracking your every move like a predator waiting for a misstep. Rio’s smile was slow, deliberate, as she traced a finger along her own collarbone.…