My loves after my little writing break I have returned... this story is a long one so you might want to get cozy.
Pairing: preg!Agatha Harkness x fem!wife!reader, Agatha x reader x Rio
Summary: Agatha is pregnant with your first baby together, and stubborn as ever she goes into labor one night while your both at home. Agatha goes into labor and you call Rio Vidal, Agatha's ex-wife and your best friend, for a little help.
Warnings: slight mentions of death, child loss, birth
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You sighed as you walked into the kitchen and let the safe feeling of your home flood your senses.
You owned an apothecary shop and typically you spent your days with customers, but with Agatha's due date approaching you let Lilia and Jen handle the shop operations so you can spend more time at home with your wife. Today was an exception and you had spent most of the day in your office, and you'd had enough, wanting nothing more than to find your very pregnant wife and curl up with her.
You leaned on the kitchen counter, letting out another sigh, magic pulsed faintly in the air, a comforting reminder of the life you and Agatha had built together. The house was unusually calm considering the chaos and power that defined your life together. You turned to face the living room when you heard the padding of footsteps.
Agatha waddled slowly into the room, her hand pressed against her lower back, grumbling under her breath. The pregnancy hadn’t been easy for her. Her body ached in ways she hadn’t expected, and the weight of her past lingered heavily.
“Agatha,” you said softly, watching her settle into the chair by the fire, shifting uncomfortably. She let out a sharp exhale, one hand rubbing her swollen belly while the other drummed impatiently on the armrest. “Why don’t you let me help you? You’ve been on your feet all day.”
“I’m not fragile, darling,” she replied dryly, narrowing her eyes at you. “I’ve survived centuries of persecution, wars, and betrayal. I think I can handle a bit of discomfort.”
You smirked, used to her sarcasm, but you caught the exhaustion in her eyes. Agatha might have been one of the most powerful witches to ever live, but even she had limits, and this pregnancy was testing every one of them.
“I know you can handle it,” you said, stepping closer. “But you don’t have to do it alone.”
She looked up at you, her lips twitching into a faint smile. “Stubborn as ever,” she muttered, leaning back in her chair.
You knelt beside her, your hands coming to rest on her thighs.
“You love me for it,” you teased letting your hands settle on her hips, placing a kiss to her belly. “Now, let me get you settled on the couch. You need to rest.”
She rolled her eyes but allowed you to help her up, her movements slow and careful. The weight of the pregnancy, both physical and emotional, was noticeable as you guided her to the couch. Once she was settled with a blanket tucked around her, you pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Better?”
“Mmm, much” she said, her voice softening as she leaned into your touch.
You kissed her softly before turning back to clean up the room, your magic weaving through the air as you organized books and straightened up the scattered remnants of your day. Every so often, you glanced back at Agatha, as she rubbed her belly absently, lost in thought.
Her groan snapped you out of your focus, and you quickly turned to see her shifting uncomfortably again. “Agatha?”
“I’m fine,” she said sharply, though her hand gripped the armrest of the couch. “The baby’s just… enthusiastic tonight.”
“No,” she interrupted, waving you off. “Sit down. You’re hovering.”
You hesitated but obeyed, settling behind her on the couch. Your arm draped around her shoulders, and she leaned into you with a sigh. “You’re too good to me,” she murmured softly.
“You deserve it,” you replied, pressing a kiss to her temple. “After everything you’ve been through… you deserve this. All of it.”
Her hand tightened around yours, and you felt her tremble ever so slightly.
“Sometimes I wonder if it’s too good to be true,” she admitted quietly. “After Nicholas… after everything… it feels like I’m tempting fate.”
“You’re not,” you said firmly, pulling her closer. “You’ve fought for this, Agatha. For us. For this family. You’re not tempting fate... you’re rewriting it.”
Her eyes held unshed tears as she looked at you, and for a moment, the walls she so carefully kept around herself came crashing down. She pressed a hand to her belly and whispered, “I just want this baby to know love. Real love. Not fear… not loss.”
You covered her hand with yours, your magic mingling in a soft glow of reassurance.
“They will,” you promised. “Because they have you, and me... and we can't forget Rio, and the rest of the coven, that will probably spoil our baby rotten.”
The mention of her ex-wife brought a faint smile to her lips. Despite the complex history between the three of you, Rio had become one of your best friends and you trusted her with your life, her presence in your lives had been a grounding force in the whirlwind of magic and emotion. Agatha nodded, her shoulders relaxing ever so slightly as she let out a deep breath.
For a while, you sat in silence, the weight of the moment settling between you. The baby shifted again, and Agatha let out another groan, though this one was softer, almost amused. “I think they’re already taking after you,” she muttered.
You chuckled, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “That’s not a bad thing.”
“No,” she agreed, her voice warm despite the fatigue in her eyes. “It’s not,” she said settling back into you and letting her eyes drift closed.
You stayed like that for awhile Agatha leaned back against you on the couch sleeping, your hands intertwined on her belly feeling your baby move, though eventually you found yourself back in your office cleaning up spell books and various other apothecary things.
Your thoughts often drifted back to Agatha. You couldn’t help but worry, her restlessness and sharp retorts lingering in your mind, the way her bump seemed to hand lower, and her groans grew more labored.
Suddenly, a familiar presence filled the doorway. Agatha stood there, her figure framed by the dim hallway light. She was clad in an oversized, lavender sweater that stretched comfortably over her swollen belly, paired with a pair black leggings. The sweater’s neckline slipped off one shoulder, revealing a hint of her porcelain skin, and her dark hair cascaded over her shoulders in, unkempt waves. She looked simultaneously radiant and utterly exhausted.
"My love, I thought I left you resting on the couch?" you smirked at her.
"That is where you left me, and I was finally comfortable until you got up."
"Agatha, my love... I was keeping an eye on you, I just needed to finish some things up, and then I was coming right back to curl up with you."
“Mrs. Harkness,” she teased, one hand resting on her hip while the other supported her lower back. “You think I haven't noticed the way you've been watching my every move?”
You smirked and leaned back in your chair, gesturing for her to come in. “I can't help it, my gorgeous wife has been pacing all day, and I’m worried you’re about to go into labor.”
Agatha rolled her eyes, her lips curling into that familiar, sardonic smile. “And here I thought I married someone who’d let me handle things on my own.”
You chuckled softly. “Oh yeah?... well I'm not sure who you married then, because I don't let you handle anything on your own... I’m not about to miss a single moment of this, especially if our baby decides to make an early entrance.”
She stepped closer, her movements slow and deliberate, and perched herself on your lap. Her belly brushed against you, and you couldn’t help but reach out instinctively, resting a hand there. She rested a hand on yours and raised an eyebrow.
“You do realize I’ve done this before, right? Centuries ago, but still.”
“That’s exactly why I’m worried,” you countered, your voice calm but firm. “You’ve been restless, shifting around, and now you’re in my office. Feels like someone might be in denial.”
“Braxton Hicks,” she shot back without hesitation. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, darling.”
Your lips twitched at her casual dismissal, but you didn’t press further. “Fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you when the contractions kick into high gear.”
She scoffed and stood, smoothing her sweater down over her bump. “I’ll be upstairs. Try not to hover too much, Mrs. Harkness.” She emphasized the name with a smirk, clearly enjoying the way you’d taken her last name.
You watched her waddle out of the room, shaking your head before placing a few more books back on the shelf. Still, you couldn’t shake the feeling that her discomfort was more than she wanted to admit.
Upstairs, Agatha paced the bedroom slowly, her movements filled with tension as a low groan escaped her lips. She paused by the window, gripping the windowsill as another contraction surged through her. It was stronger this time, and she knew you were right.
But stubborn as ever, she wasn’t ready to admit it. Not yet. She’d done this before, alone in the woods, with no one to hold her hand or soothe her fears.
She could handle it now. Couldn’t she?
Back downstairs, the house fell quiet, and you grew uneasy. Agatha wasn’t exactly one for silence. You moved quietly upstairs, pushing the bedroom door open, you froze at the sight before you.
Agatha’s back was to you, her dark hair falling in wild waves over her shoulders. She swayed her hips slowly, her hands braced against the foot of the bed as another low groan slipped past her lips. The sound was filled with pain and frustration, and it made your heart clench.
“Agatha,” you murmured, her name slipping from your lips like a curse and a prayer.
She startled slightly, turning her head just enough to glare at you. “I’m fine,” she snapped, though the tension in her voice betrayed her.
You approached her slowly, your hands softly falling on her hips. “You’re not fine,” you said gently but firmly. “You’re in labor.”
“I’m not actively laboring yet,” she argued, her tone sharp as she straightened herself. “We have time.”
“Agatha,” you pressed, your voice laced with both concern. “You don’t have to do this alone. You’re not hiding your pain from me to protect me. Let me help you.”
Her glare softened for a moment, but she shook her head. “I’ve done this before...”
“And this time, your not doing it alone,” you interrupted. “I’m your wife. Your support system. I’m not letting you shut me out.”
Agatha opened her mouth to retort, but a sudden sharp contraction cut her off. She gasped, clutching the edge of the bed as her knees buckled slightly. You moved to her side, guiding her to lean on you, her head falling against your neck.
"Y/N..." she started, one hand under her bump, her other hand slipped under your shirt and grasped at your warm skin.
“I’ve got you,” you whispered.
Before she could protest further, her body stiffened she let out a small moan, and a warm gush of liquid soaked through her leggings. She froze, then lifted her head slowly, her lips pulling into a disgruntled frown. “I think my water just broke... you were right.”
You couldn’t help the satisfied smirk that spread across your face. “Told you so.”
“Don’t you dare,” she grumbled, but the fight was leaving her as exhaustion took over.
You gently guided her to lean on the bed, your hands steady and comforting. “Let me help, Agatha. It’s my baby, too. I'm not letting you go through this alone.”
"Y/N," her blue eyes searched yours and she nodded slowly. She leaned into you, her head resting against your shoulder. Her breath was shaky, her voice barely a whisper. “I’m scared.”
You held her tightly, pressing a kiss to her hair. “I know. But you’re not alone. We’ve got this... together.”
The dimly lit bedroom felt charged with magic and anticipation as Agatha’s labor progressed. You helped her out of her soaked leggings and grabbed one of your oversized flannel shirts... a deep navy and black plaid that hung loosely over her frame. As you helped her slip into it, buttoning it carefully over her swollen belly, she took a deep inhale.
“Your perfume,” she murmured, her voice softer now, almost distracted. “It clings to your clothes.”
You raised an eyebrow. “You don’t like it?”
“I didn’t say that,” she replied quickly, her lips quirking into a faint smile. “I love it. It's my wife. It’s… calming.”
You smirked but didn’t say anything, knowing she’d accuse you of being insufferable if you teased her. Instead, you kissed her temple before stepping back to let her pace again.
As the minutes stretched on, you suggested taking her to the hospital, but Agatha immediately dismissed the idea with a sharp wave of her hand.
“We’re not going anywhere,” she snapped, bracing herself against the bed. “The baby’s too low already. I can feel it.”
“Agatha,” you began, your voice steady but concerned.
“No,” she interrupted firmly, straightening up with great effort. “This baby isn’t waiting for a hospital gown and fluorescent lights. It’s happening here. Now.”
You moved about the room calmly, collecting everything you’d need... towels, scissors, and a clamp for the cord... keeping one eye on her at all times. Occasionally, she would pace back to your side, leaning heavily against you for support as another contraction rolled through her body.
The pressure in her pelvis seemed to build rapidly, her moans becoming deeper and you could see the determination etched into her face. She continued pacing the room, her movements slower pausing every now and then, her breaths shallow and focused. You stayed close, ready to catch her if she stumbled or needed support.
Eventually, she returned to you, her steps unsteady as she leaned heavily into your chest. You wrapped your arms around her, holding her close as her head rested against your neck. Her breath was hot against your skin, punctuated by soft grunts as her body worked through another contraction, you had a feeling that she was already pushing, she just didn't want to let you know yet.
During one contraction you felt her tense against you, a low groan escaping her lips, you kissed her temple and felt the muscles in her jaw clench.
“Agatha,” you murmured, your lips close to her ear, “are you pushing?”
She nodded weakly, her voice strained. “Pretty sure… the baby’s crowning.”
Your heart raced, but you kept your tone calm and steady. “Okay. Let’s get you settled, my love. We’re almost there.”
Agatha groaned, a mix of frustration and pain. “Don’t you dare smirk. I swear if you...”
“I know, I know,” you interrupted gently, guiding her toward the bed. “You’ll hex me. Later. Right now, we need to focus on meeting our baby.”
She gave a faint laugh, "We're going to meet our baby..."
"Yes my love, but you've got to get through this part first." you said kissing her temple again.
"ugh... easier said than done... nnghhh." She moaned clinging to you as the next contraction began to surge, her head still pressed against your neck as you gently rubbed soothing circles on her back.
She was trembling now, and when she whispered, “Check me,” there was no trace of her usual snark. Her voice was firm and raw, laced with both urgency and trust.
You eased her away from your neck, brushing her hair back so you could see her flushed face.
“Alright,” you murmured, gently lowering yourself to check her. With one glance and a careful hand, you confirmed what you already suspected... the baby was crowning.
"Okay my love, baby is crowning, you're doing so well." you stood up in front of her, your hands supporting her hips as her hands grasped your arms.
"I told you darling, our baby is as impatient as you." she grimaced.
You exhaled softly, muttering, “You’re so stubborn, Agatha.”
She scoffed, a smirk tugging at her lips even through the discomfort. “Takes one to marry one, darling.”
You rolled your eyes your laugh cut short by Agatha letting out another low groan, “Okay, just breathe, I'm right here Agatha... What do you need, love?”
She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. "I need to move, let gravity do the work.”
At first, she stood with your arms wrapped tightly around her, her body trembling as she leaned heavily into you. Her head nestled back against your neck, and you murmured soft words of encouragement as she bore down with another push. But as the pressure increased, her knees buckled beneath her, and you instinctively steadied her.
“Agatha, my love, you’re going to drop us both to the floor if you don’t lean on me properly,” you said, voice light but firm.
“Oh, don’t be dramatic,” she rasped between breaths. “You love when I’m on top of you.”
“Not exactly what I meant,” you chuckled, guiding her back a step before sitting on the edge of the bed.
Agatha followed your lead, letting you support her as she squatted between your legs, her back leaning against your chest. Her hands gripped your arms for balance, her nails digging into your skin as another contraction took hold.
“Mmm you owe me big time after this,” she groaned. “you’ll remind me of this moment forever, won’t you?”
You kissed the side of her temple, your lips lingering there as she strained through another push. “Not forever. Just for the next few centuries.”
Her laugh was weak, more air than sound. “You’re lucky I love you.”
“I know,” you whispered, your voice soft and full of affection.
Agatha gritted her teeth, her breathing labored. “Mmnnughh... the baby… It’s so low.” Her voice cracked as her head fell back against your shoulder. “The crowning... fuck, it’s so intense.”
You tightened your arms around her protectively. “I need to see, love. Just to make sure everything’s okay.”
“No,” she growled, shaking her head even as she trembled in your arms. “I’m not moving.”
You sighed, brushing strands of damp hair away from her face. “Okay, okay... Then let me feel, okay?”
Her lips curled into a faint, mischievous smirk despite the sweat glistening on her brow. “Your hands between my legs… isn’t that how we ended up here in the first place?”
“Not exactly the time for jokes,” you muttered, though your lips twitched with amusement as you reached down carefully.
The moment your hand reached down, you felt it... the firm, soft curve of your baby’s head emerging. Your breath caught as Agatha let out a low, guttural moan, her nails biting into your arms as she bore down.
“You’re incredible,” you whispered, pressing another kiss to her temple. “You’ve got this, Agatha. You’re so close.”
She grumbled under her breath, her body shaking with effort. “Still not moving.”
“Of course not,” you murmured, though you tapped into your magic, summoning a mirror into your hand. You positioned it just right, giving you a clear view of your baby’s head as it slowly emerged.
Agatha let out a strained groan when she realized what you’d done. “Using magic? Really?”
“You love me for it,” you teased, brushing a kiss over her damp hair. “Now, hold on. I’m calling Rio.”
Her head whipped around, her glare sharp despite the pain. “No. I don’t need her. I have you.”
“You do have me,” you assured her, dialing Rio’s number anyway. “But we could use an extra set of hands. Someone we trust.”
Agatha groaned, muttering curses under her breath, but didn’t argue further as you quickly explained the situation to Rio. Within minutes, the sound of the front door opening echoed through the house, and Rio’s familiar voice called up from below.
You kissed Agatha’s shoulder as Rio climbed the stairs and entered the room, her sharp eyes immediately assessing the scene... you seated on the edge of the bed, your arms wrapped securely around Agatha as she squatted between your legs, her body trembling with exertion. She glanced at you, then at Agatha, arching a brow.
“Well,” Rio said with a smirk, shrugging off her coat. “What’s the saying?... ‘It takes a village’?”
“More like two stubborn witches and a very patient ex-wife,” Agatha grumbled, though her voice softened as Rio approached, her presence instantly grounding the room.
“Then it looks like I got here just in time,” Rio said with her usual calmness, though a faint smile tugged at her lips. She slipped off her coat, tossing it aside.
"How's she doing?" Rio directed her attention to you.
"Contractions are coming hard and fast, baby is crowning..." you filled her in, your voice steady.
Agatha let out a guttural groan that silenced both you and Rio. Your attention snapped back to your wife as she gritted out,
“The head… mother of... it hurts.”
You nodded to Rio, who moved carefully to kneel in front of Agatha, her hands gently running over your wife’s trembling thighs. Rio’s gaze flicked to yours, searching your face, and you gave her a slight nod.
When Agatha’s blue eyes met Rio’s espresso-brown ones, a wave of emotion washed over her face. Centuries of history passed between the three of you, unspoken but palpable in the room. Agatha’s lips trembled, and you leaned forward, pressing a kiss to her temple.
“Rio needs to check, love,” you whispered softly, your voice grounding her.
Rio’s expression softened as she looked between the two of you. “Is that okay, Agatha?” she asked gently, her voice soft and soothing.
Agatha hesitated for a moment before giving a slow nod. Rio carefully shifted, her movements gentle and respectful as she glanced down. The baby’s head was fully crowning now, and Rio looked back up at Agatha with a warm, reassuring smile.
“You’re doing beautifully,” Rio said softly, her hands resting lightly on Agatha’s thighs.
Another contraction overtook Agatha, and she let out a strained cry, pushing with everything she had. Rio’s voice was calm and steady as she murmured, “Good girl, Agatha. That’s it. Keep going.”
You joined in, your lips brushing against Agatha’s damp hair. “You’ve got this, my love. You’re incredible.”
Agatha let out a strangled moan as the contraction finally eased, and her body leaned heavily against you. Her breathing ragged, as she shook her head, tears pooling in her eyes as she began to ramble.
“I did this before… alone,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “Nicholas… I was alone, and Rio left, and…”
Your heart clenched, and as you glanced at Rio. The haunted look in Agatha’s eyes wasn’t just pain... it was memory, memory of the child she had birthed centuries ago, alone in the cold, unyielding woods. The memory of Rio leaving to protect her and Nicholas from forces too dark to fight.
Before you could speak, Rio’s hands moved to Agatha’s trembling legs, grounding her. “This is nothing like before,” Rio said firmly, her voice a soothing balm. “Your baby is safe. You’re safe. You have her, ,” she nodded toward you, “your badass wife that would kill to keep you both safe, and you have me. Nothing will harm you or your child, Agatha. Not this time.”
You pressed your lips to Agatha’s temple, your voice low and steady. “You’re not alone, love. You can cry, scream, yell... whatever you need. You are loved, and you are safe. And you’re not doing this by yourself. I promise you, everything will be okay.”
Tears spilled down Agatha’s cheeks as she nodded weakly, her grip on you tightening. “I just…” Her voice cracked, and she looked between the two of you. “I’m scared.”
Rio’s gaze softened as she reached up, brushing a stray lock of hair from Agatha’s face. “It’s okay to be scared,” she said gently. “But you’re stronger than your fear. You’ve got this, and we’ve got you.”
You felt Agatha take a deep, shuddering breath, her trembling beginning to subside. She nodded again, her tears falling freely now, and you kissed her softly, murmuring against her skin, “You’re safe. I’ve got you, Agatha. We’ve got you.”
Agatha leaned into you heavily, her back pressing against your chest her nails dug into your thighs, the sharp sting barely registering, you held her steady, your arms wrapped protectively around her swollen frame, and your gaze flicked to Rio, who knelt calmly before you both.
Agatha’s labored breathing filled the room, each moan growing louder, more strained. Then came the threats.
“If this child doesn’t come out soon,” Agatha growled through clenched teeth, “I swear, I’ll hex both of you.”
You and Rio exchanged a quick, amused glance. “And here I thought you liked the attention,” you teased lightly, earning a sharp glare from your wife.
“This is your fault,” she panted, her voice shaking as another contraction took hold, her words cut off with a sharp cry, and her nails bit deeper into your thighs.
“Yeah, yeah,” Rio chuckled, her tone calm and soothing as she glanced up. “Blame her later, Agatha. Right now, keep pushing.”
It happened suddenly... Agatha groaned and then let out a panicked, frantic cry, her breathing growing erratic. “The head... it’s out! The head's out, help me!”
You tightened your arms around her protectively, whispering, “You’re okay, love. We’ve got you... Rio?”
Rio leaned forward, her hands steady as she confirmed what Agatha had said. “The head’s out,” she said with calm authority. “You’re almost there, Agatha. Just a little more.”
“I can’t!” Agatha gasped, trembling against you.
“Yes, you can,” you whispered firmly, brushing damp strands of hair away from her face. “You’re almost there, my love. You’re doing so good.”
Agatha bore down again with another strained cry, and you could feel her body trembling with the effort. She fell back into you, exhausted, and you adjusted slightly, pulling her closer into your arms so that your thighs bracketed hers.
At first, she resisted, her voice laced with her signature sarcasm. “Are you trying to smother me?!”
“Let me help you,” you murmured firmly, your hands steady on her hips. “Trust me, Agatha.”
For a moment, she hesitated, but as the next contraction rolled through her, she finally gave in, leaning fully into you with a soft, broken groan.
She pushed again, a guttural scream ripping through her as Rio’s eyes suddenly widened. “Stop!” Rio commanded sharply, her voice slicing through the tension.
You froze, the air leaving your lungs as dread gripped you. “What’s wrong?” you demanded, your voice tight with fear.
Agatha’s panic was immediate, her breathing erratic as she gasped, “What... what is it?... What’s wrong with her?!”
Rio hesitated, her usually calm demeanor slipping for just a second before she spoke. “The cord. It’s wrapped around her neck.”
A sinking feeling settled in your chest as Agatha’s body stiffened against you. “No,” Agatha whispered, her voice breaking. “No, no, no. Rio... please, please not my baby! Don’t take her. Don’t take my baby.”
“Agatha,” Rio said firmly, “I’m not taking anyone. I need to unhook the cord. You both need to stay calm.”
But calm wasn’t an option. Your magic flared instinctively, crackling around the room as a protective wave surged from your chest. “Help her,” you growled, your voice low and dangerous.
Rio glanced up, her sharp eyes locking on yours, green magic flaring against your silver magic. “Control yourself,” she said evenly, her hands still steady. “I’ve got this.”
Agatha sobbed, her head dropping back against your shoulder as another contraction came. “I can’t... Y/N, I can't...” she gasped, her body trembling violently. “I have to push!”
“No,” Rio said firmly. “You can’t push yet, Agatha... I need to help your baby.”
Agatha’s cries grew louder, her panic palpable, and you pressed your lips to her ear, whispering softly, “You’re okay, my love. I’m here. Rio’s here. You’re not alone. Breathe for me.”
Her grip on your thighs tightened painfully as she sobbed, but she tried to match your steady breathing, her body slowly relaxing against you.
Rio worked quickly, her hands gentle but precise. “I need to ease the head back just slightly,” she explained, her tone calm but focused, “...to loosen the cord and get it unstuck.”
“Do it,” you said, tightening your arms around Agatha as she let out another agonized scream.
The sound tore through you, and you whispered in her ear, your voice full of emotion. “You’re okay, Agatha. You’re strong. You’re safe. She’s safe.”
Rio worked meticulously, her movements precise as Agatha’s screams echoed in the room. Then, after what felt like an eternity, Rio’s voice cut through the chaos.
“Got it,” she said, her expression softening as she carefully unhooked the cord and looked up at both of you. “She’s okay. You’re okay. Just a few more pushes and you bring her into the world.”
Agatha sobbed, relief flooding her as she clung to you. And with your combined strength, she found the resolve to push again, this time ready to meet the little girl she’d fought so fiercely to protect.
Agatha’s sobs softened as she leaned fully into you, her back trembling against your chest. You whispered reassurances into her ear, brushing your lips against her temple. Her tears dampened your skin as you held her tightly, grounding her with your strength.
Rio stayed in front of her, calm and steady, a sharp contrast to the storm of emotions swirling in the room. “Alright, Agatha,” Rio said softly, her hands poised to catch the baby. “She’s ready. You’re ready. Just one more push. You can do this.”
Agatha whimpered, shaking her head. “I can’t—” she panted, her breath hitching as another contraction built. “It hurts. I’m so tired—”
“You can,” you whispered firmly, your arms tightening around her. “You’ve come so far, Agatha. You’re the strongest woman I know. She’s almost here, and I’m right here with you.”
“And so am I,” Rio added, her voice full of encouragement. “You’ve got us both. You’re not alone.”
With those words, Agatha let out a trembling breath and bore down, a scream tearing from her throat. You felt her entire body strain with the effort as her nails dug into your thighs again. You winced but stayed steady, murmuring praises into her ear.
“That’s it,” Rio encouraged, her voice firm but gentle. “Good girl, Agatha. Keep going. She’s almost here.”
Agatha let out another guttural cry, her body trembling violently as she pushed again. Her hands flew to yours, clinging to your arms like a lifeline as she leaned against you.
You pressed your cheek to hers, whispering, “I know my love, but you’ve got this. Just one more and we meet our baby girl.”
Agatha nodded, let out a deep scream and then a high-pitched cry pierced the room as Rio carefully guided your daughter into the world. Agatha sobbed, her entire body sagging against you in exhaustion and relief.
“She’s here,” Rio said, her voice thick with emotion as she held up the baby, red, wriggling, and alive. “You did it, Agatha. She’s perfect.”
You looked over Agatha’s shoulder, tears blurring your vision as you caught your first glimpse of your daughter. Rio quickly cut the cord, her hands steady. Then she reached for a towel, carefully wrapping the tiny, squirming form before handing her over.
“Here,” Rio murmured, her voice soft as she placed the baby in Agatha’s trembling arms.
Agatha let out a broken sob as she looked down at the tiny bundle, her fingers brushing over the baby’s flushed cheek. “She’s... she’s beautiful,” Agatha whispered, her voice thick with emotion.
You kissed her temple, tears streaming down your face as you gazed at your daughter. “She’s perfect,” you murmured, your voice choked.
Agatha looked up at you, her blue eyes shimmering with tears. “We did it,” she whispered, her voice full of awe. “She’s ours.”
You smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to her lips. “We did it, my love. You did it.”
Rio stood silently, her expression soft as she watched the three of you. There was no jealousy, no bitterness... only love and understanding as centuries of pain melted away in the warmth of this new life.
“She’s strong,” Rio said finally, her voice full of pride. “Just like her mothers.”
Agatha let out a shaky laugh, her tears spilling freely as she cradled the baby closer. “Welcome to the chaos,” she whispered to your daughter, her voice soft and full of love.
And as you held your wife and child in your arms, surrounded by the warmth of Rio’s presence, you knew this was just the beginning of a new, beautiful chapter for all of you.
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@lover12345abcde this is for youuu!!