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lotsofmilfs · 2 days ago

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Shades Of Cool Part 1

Pairing : Agatha Harkness x Fem!Reader

Summary : You and Agatha were close in Salem, but things happen of course, and now you’re reunited due to the Witches Road

Word Count : 7kish

Authors Notes : I took creative liberties with the road !!! but i’m hoping you still like !

Warnings : Angst, Brief mention of suicide, longing, i think that’s it.

You were in Agatha’s trial on the witches road, you had on the same outfit as her, only it was a pink jersey, instead of the purple. Your hair was down instead of up in the hairstyle that Agatha was wearing, and your knee high socks were white with two purple stripes at the top. You don’t even know how you got here, but that was just how strong Billy was. Summoning you for a trial you had no idea you were taking place in.

You’d met Agatha during the Salem Era, both of you young, and close. You hated your own parents, and when Agatha told you about her mother, you planned to run away together. Things never worked out that way though, the closer you got with Agatha, you wanted to bond with her.

Bonding was something ancient, bringing together two witches. It would open their souls, their minds, and their hearts to one another. Agatha was petrified of being that open with someone, the vulnerability was just too much, and even though it hurt, she left you the next day after you poured your heart out, asking for her to break the barrier and become one.

Now it’s been centuries, and you freeze as you stop messing with the game in front of you, hearing a collection of voices from your right.

“Who’s trial is this?” Jen asks as they all look around

“Agatha’s.” Rio smirks. That name. You’ve not heard that name in so long it brings a flush to your cheeks, and your face lifts up, your side profile now visible to the group.

Agatha freezes when she sees your face, she’d remember it anywhere, she had dreams about it. She doesn’t say anything, she couldn’t. How were you even here? She… Thought maybe you’d died years ago. You never approached anyone about the road, and so she assumed.. She looks at you different then when she seen Rio again, there’s no anger or malice in her gaze. Just a deep set of longing. Her feet carry her involuntarily towards you and she breathes out.

“Darling.”

Your head snaps toward the voice, sharp and familiar, dripping with a need that makes your stomach twist in ways you wish it wouldn’t. “Agatha,” you say, her name cutting through the charged silence like a blade. It comes out too soft for your liking, so you harden your voice. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

Her lips twitch, almost a smile, but not quite. There’s something in her eyes that makes it clear you’re not the only one thrown off balance. “The feeling’s mutual, darling,” she says, her tone breezy, almost mocking, but there’s a crack in the façade. She’s staring at you like she’s seen a ghost.

Maybe she has.

You’ve got centuries of practice keeping your emotions in check, but something about the way she’s looking at you, the way her breath catches for just a moment, has your carefully maintained armour slipping. You clench your fists to stop them from shaking.

“What have you done now Agatha? Have you stolen someone’s broomstick?”

Her smirk comes back, sharp and self-assured, like she’s trying to regain the upper hand. “If only it were that simple,” she says lightly, but there’s a tension in her jaw. “Let’s just say I’ve been accused of... dabbling.”

“Dabbling?” you echo, incredulous. “That’s likely one way to put it.”

“Careful,” she says, her voice dropping into something silkier, more dangerous. “You might hurt my feelings.”

Your laugh comes out more bitter than you intend. “Oh, I’m sure they’re well-protected under all that... dabbling.”

The others in the group exchange uneasy glances. Rio, ever the instigator, pipes up again, clearly loving the drama. “So... you two know each other?”

Neither of you answers, too locked in a silent, electric standoff. It’s Agatha who finally breaks the moment, turning to address the group, her voice dripping with the kind of theatrical charm only she can pull off. “Let’s just say we have history.” Her eyes flick back to you, and her tone turns pointed. “Though some of us are better at leaving the past where it belongs.”

Your lips part, sharp words ready to fire back, but you stop yourself. This isn’t the time, and you won’t let her get the better of you. Not again.

Instead, you tilt your head, levelling her with a look. “So, this trial. What’s the serious charge? Not just the accusations.”

Agatha hesitates, just for a moment. “They think I stole something.” Her tone is measured, but there’s a flicker of guilt—or defiance, maybe—in her eyes. “Power. Something I didn’t earn.”

You cross your arms. “And did you?”

Her jaw tightens, and for a second, she looks like she might actually tell you the truth. Then she shrugs, her smirk slipping back into place. “Does it matter?”

“It does if you want to walk out of here alive.”

The air between you is thick with unspoken history, the weight of centuries hanging over every word. Agatha steps closer, lowering her voice so only you can hear. “You’ve always been good at seeing through me, haven’t you?”

You swallow hard, hating the way her words make your chest tighten. “Don’t flatter yourself,” you say, stepping back just enough to reestablish your ground. “I just know your type.”

She chuckles, soft and low. “Oh, sweetheart. You’ve always known me. That’s what made you dangerous.”

Her words hit a nerve, and you hate that she knows it. She’s always been good at that—finding your cracks and slipping through them like smoke. But this time, you won’t let her.

Before you can respond, Rio claps their hands, breaking the tension. “This is all very riveting, but shouldn’t we, I don’t know, do something? Trials, consequences, accusations—ringing any bells?”

Agatha’s gaze snaps to Rio, her smile vanishing in an instant. “Stay out of it,” she says sharply, her voice like ice.

But as much as you want to stay angry, to keep your walls firmly in place, there’s something in her eyes when she looks back at you—a flicker of vulnerability, of something real—that shakes you.

“Why am I here, Agatha?” you ask quietly.

She hesitates, her confidence faltering for just a moment. “I didn’t bring you here,” she says. “But... maybe the road thought I needed a reminder.”

“A reminder of what?”

Her gaze softens, and for a second, it’s like you’re back in Salem, two young witches on the brink of something extraordinary. She opens her mouth, but the words don’t come.

Instead, she steps back, her expression hardening again. “You’ll see soon enough,” she says, her tone deliberately flippant. “Just try not to get in my way, darling.”

You narrow your eyes, but there’s no time to respond.

The ground beneath your feet rumbles—a low, ominous vibration that sends chills up your spine. The witches’ road is alive, its energies twisting and pulling, urging the trial forward. Around you, the air grows thick with power, sharp and unrelenting, and the others in the group exchange uneasy glances.

Agatha stands still, her gaze fixed on you, as though the trial itself is secondary to the unfinished business crackling between you. But her expression hardens when the light around you shifts—a brilliant blue glow forming a circle in the center of the road.

"Right on cue," Agatha mutters under her breath. She turns to the group, her sharp tone carrying authority, even here. "Stay behind me. All of you."

"Why would we do that?" Rio asks with a smirk, stepping closer to the circle. "You’re the one on trial, remember?"

Before Agatha can snap back, the blue glow bursts upward, spiralling into a towering column of light. From its core, shapes begin to emerge—silhouettes, shifting and indistinct at first, but then solidifying into forms you recognise all too well. Witches, cloaked and severe, their eyes glowing with unnatural light. The Coven.

“Agatha Harkness,” one of them speaks, their voice cold and resonant. “You stand accused of theft, treachery, and the violation of sacred laws.”

Agatha lifts her chin, the picture of defiance, but you catch the way her fingers twitch at her sides, the slight clenching of her jaw. “Well, don’t hold back,” she says, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Tell me how you really feel.”

The Coven doesn’t react, their collective gaze shifting past her—to you. The intensity of their focus sends a shiver through you, but you don’t flinch. You know better than to show weakness here.

“Who dares to stand beside the accused?” another witch asks, their glowing eyes narrowing.

“She doesn’t belong here,” Agatha says quickly, stepping in front of you. “This trial has nothing to do with her.”

“Is that so?” The lead witch tilts her head, studying you with unnerving precision. “And yet, the road brought her here. Why?”

You meet the witch’s gaze, refusing to let the weight of her scrutiny drag you down. “I’d like to know that myself,” you say coolly. “But whatever this is, I’m not here to play spectator.”

Agatha casts you a sharp look, her eyes flashing with something between irritation and concern. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she hisses.

“Then enlighten me,” you snap back, your patience wearing thin. “Or is keeping secrets still your favourite game?”

“Enough,” the lead witch commands, her voice cutting through the tension. The others fall silent, their glowing eyes shifting back to Agatha. “The accused will answer for her actions.”

“Gladly,” Agatha says, folding her arms. “But let’s be clear—I didn’t steal anything. I earned that power.”

The lead witch’s gaze sharpens. “You twisted ancient magic for your own gain, defied the natural order, and corrupted forces beyond your comprehension. Not to mention murdered hundreds. You are a danger to all witches.”

“Funny,” Agatha retorts, her voice venomous. “I seem to recall you trying to kill me for simply being too powerful. Guess some things never change.”

The Coven bristles, their forms glowing brighter, but before they can respond, the road itself shifts again. The ground beneath you ripples, and for a moment, you’re weightless—floating in the charged air. When you land, the circle of light has expanded, now encompassing you, Agatha, and the Coven.

You glare at her, your frustration boiling over. “What exactly did you do, Agatha?”

Her eyes flicker to you, something almost apologetic flashing across her face before she buries it under her usual mask. “It’s complicated.”

“It always is with you,” you bite back.

Agatha opens her mouth to respond, but the lead witch cuts her off. “The accused is bound to the truth. Let us see if her lies can survive the light.”

At her words, the blue glow intensifies, and the trial begins in earnest. The road reacts violently, pulling memories and illusions from the air—scenes of Agatha’s past swirling like a storm around you. Her betrayal of the Salem Coven. Her hunger for forbidden power. Her darkest moments laid bare.

But then the images shift—scenes you recognise. A younger Agatha, laughing beside you in the moonlight. The two of you whispering secrets, planning your escape. The night she left you, her face a mask of regret as she vanished into the darkness.

Your breath catches, and Agatha’s head snaps toward you, her expression unreadable.

The Coven doesn’t miss the exchange. “Ah,” the lead witch says, a cruel smile curling her lips. “Perhaps the accused’s greatest crime is not against magic, but against the heart.”

Agatha’s face hardens, but there’s a flicker of vulnerability in her eyes as she turns to you. “Don’t let them twist this,” she says, her voice low and urgent. “You know me better than anyone.”

You take a step closer, your anger warring with the pull of old, buried feelings. “Do I? Because the Agatha I knew wouldn’t have dragged me into her mess.”

“I didn’t!” she snaps, the crack in her composure widening. “But if I had... maybe I should’ve. Maybe you’re the only one who can—” She cuts herself off, looking away.

The Coven watches, their glowing eyes unrelenting. “Speak your truth, Agatha Harkness,” the lead witch commands. “If you can.”

You don’t know what’s worse—the thought that she’s hiding something from you, or the thought that she’s telling the truth and you’re still tied to her, even now. Either way, you’re not letting this end without answers.

“Start talking,” you say, your voice sharp but steady. “Because if you want me to trust you, Agatha, you’d better earn it.”

Agatha remains silent, though her eyes are pleading. The road trembles beneath you, the Coven's chanting growing louder, more insistent. The blue light twists and contorts, creating shadows that dance around you and Agatha. You’re too close to her now, her presence almost overwhelming in its familiarity. After all this time, she’s still the same—still sharp, guarded, impossible. And yet, beneath it all, she’s still her

You steal a glance at her, and for a moment, you see a crack in her defenses. The weight of the trial, the memories, the raw, unspoken tension between you—it’s all there, etched across her face. But she’s too proud to acknowledge it, even now.

“You’re scared,” you say, your voice low enough that only she can hear.

Agatha’s gaze snaps to yours, her eyes narrowing. “Of them?” she asks, gesturing toward the Coven with a sardonic smirk. “Please.”

You hold her gaze, refusing to let her deflect. “Not of them. Of me. Of us.”

Her smirk falters, just for a moment, and you know you’ve hit a nerve. She takes a step back, but you follow, unwilling to let her retreat this time.

“I’m not scared,” she says, but her voice lacks its usual bite.

“Liar,” you counter, your tone soft but unrelenting. “You’ve always been terrified of letting anyone in. Of letting me in.”

Agatha opens her mouth to respond, but the Coven’s chanting suddenly shifts, the words growing sharper, more pointed. The blue light swirls between the two of you, pulling at the air, at your magic, at your connection . The Coven has sensed it—the bond that could’ve been, the bond you once wanted more than anything.

“You thought about it,” you say, stepping closer. “All those years ago. You wanted it, too.”

“Stop,” she snaps, her voice cracking slightly, her control slipping.

“You left because you couldn’t handle it,” you press on. “Because you were too afraid to open yourself up. To share everything—your power, your heart, your soul.”

“I said stop,” she hisses, but she doesn’t move away.

The blue light flares between you, the energy shifting, bending, until it forms a thread, a thin, shimmering line connecting the two of you. The sight of it makes your breath catch in your throat. It’s the bond, raw and unfinished, still lingering after all this time.

Agatha stares at it, her face pale, her usual confidence nowhere to be found. “It’s not real,” she says, her voice almost desperate. “It’s just the trial, just a trick.”

“You don’t believe that,” you say quietly.

The thread pulses, glowing brighter, and you can feel it now- the pull of her soul, of her essence, intertwining with your own. It’s intoxicating and terrifying all at once, and you can see the same war playing out in Agatha’s eyes.

The Coven speaks again, their voices cold and cutting. “The bond remains unfinished. A betrayal of magic, a betrayal of trust. It is a wound that festers, unresolved.”

Agatha clenches her fists, her gaze snapping to the lead witch. “This has nothing to do with them,” she says, her voice shaking with anger. “You’re trying to twist this into something it’s not.”

The lead witch tilts her head, her glowing eyes boring into Agatha. “The trial reveals truth. Nothing more, nothing less.” Her gaze shifts to you, and her next words are deliberate, cruel. “Perhaps the accused should explain why she ran. Why she rejected the bond when it was freely offered.”

Agatha flinches, and you feel the thread between you tremble. For a moment, you think she’s going to lash out, to fight, but instead, she turns to you, her expression raw and unguarded in a way you’ve never seen before.

“I didn’t run because I didn’t want it,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. “I ran because I wanted it too much.”

Her words hit you like a tidal wave, and for a moment, you can’t breathe.

“I knew what bonding meant,” she continues, her eyes locking onto yours. “It would’ve made us... tied in ways I couldn’t undo. And I couldn’t let myself—” She cuts herself off, shaking her head. “I thought I was protecting you. Protecting-“ she cuts herself off and then, “But maybe... maybe I was just protecting myself.”

The thread glows brighter, the magic between you surging, and you can feel it now—her fear, her regret, her longing. It’s all there, laid bare, and for the first time, you see her for who she truly is.

“You didn’t need to protect me,” you say, your voice steady. “I was ready, Agatha. I’ve always been ready. But you never gave us a chance.”

Her lips part, but before she can respond, the Coven’s chanting rises to a fever pitch. The thread between you stretches and trembles, the energy reaching a breaking point.

“You must choose,” the lead witch says, her voice cutting through the chaos. “Complete the bond, or sever it forever. There is no more middle ground.”

Agatha’s eyes widen, panic flashing across her face. She looks at you, her composure crumbling, and for the first time, she seems truly vulnerable.

“Don’t let them force this,” she says, her voice trembling. “Not like this.”

The glow of the thread between you pulses, trembling like a fragile lifeline. The Coven’s chanting grows louder, demanding resolution, pushing you both to a precipice. Agatha’s eyes dart between the shimmering connection and your face. You can see the fear in her eyes, the weight of her indecision pressing down like a storm.

“Choose, Agatha Harkness,” the lead witch demands. “Complete the bond, or sever it forever.”

Agatha’s hand hovers over yours, trembling. The vulnerability on her face is something you’ve never seen before, and it twists something deep inside you. For a moment, you think she might do it—reach out and let the bond fully take hold. But then her jaw sets, her gaze hardening.

“No,” she says sharply, yanking her hand back. The thread snaps violently, the energy spiralling outward like a scream. The sudden emptiness is immediate and gut-wrenching, leaving you gasping as if something vital has been ripped away.

Agatha steps back, her face pale, her hands clenched into fists. “I can’t,” she whispers, her voice brittle. “I won’t.”

The lead witch smiles coldly. “So be it.”

The thread between you vanishes, and the road trembles again, this time more violently. The energy shifts, the air growing heavy with the finality of her decision. You feel the hollow space where the bond once was, an ache that settles deep in your chest. It’s unbearable, and when you meet Agatha’s eyes, you see that she feels it too.

Her face twists with something you’ve rarely seen from her: regret.

“Wait,” she breathes, but the Coven’s chanting drowns her out. The blue light around you sharpens, cutting like a blade, and you can feel the road enforcing her choice, solidifying the severance.

“Agatha,” you say, your voice raw, stepping toward her. “Don’t do this. Don’t—”

“I already have,” she interrupts, her voice breaking as she turns away from you. “It’s done.”

But even as she says it, her steps falter. Her hand rises to her chest, where the bond once pulsed with life. Her expression crumples, the emptiness hitting her like a physical blow. She gasps, clutching at the air as if she could pull it back, undo the severance.

The lead witch tilts her head, her voice cutting like a knife. “Feeling the emptiness already, Agatha Harkness? Such is the price of fear.”

Agatha spins back to face them, her mask of confidence shattering completely. “Bring it back,” she says, her voice hoarse. “I’ll do it. I’ll—”

“Impossible,” the lead witch says coolly. “You made your choice.”

“No!” Agatha snaps, desperation lacing her words. She looks at you, her eyes wide and pleading. “I—I didn’t mean it. I can fix it. Just—” She turns back to the Coven. “Just let me fix it.”

The lead witch’s gaze is unforgiving. “The road answers only once. To sever a bond is to sever it forever. That is the law.”

Agatha shakes her head violently. “No. That’s not—no!” Her voice cracks, and for a moment, she looks like she might collapse under the weight of her mistake.

You step forward, your own pain mingling with hers. “There has to be a way,” you say, your voice steady despite the ache in your chest. “You can’t leave it like this.”

The Coven is silent for a long moment, their glowing eyes unreadable. Finally, the lead witch speaks. “There is one way, but it requires both souls to agree. And the cost will not be light.”

Agatha’s gaze snaps to you, her eyes searching yours. For the first time, there’s no deflection, no bravado just raw, unfiltered need. “Please,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. “Please.”

You take a breath, the pain of the severed bond still fresh and raw. You should walk away. You should let her feel the consequences of her choice. But you can’t. You’ve never been able to. And now hearing her beg? You fear you’d do anything she asked.

“Fine,” you say, stepping forward. “What do we have to do?”

The lead witch smiles faintly, as if this is what she wanted all along. “Rekindling a severed bond requires sacrifice. Magic, power... a piece of the soul itself. Are you willing?”

You don’t hesitate. “Yes.”

Agatha looks at you, her eyes filled with both gratitude and guilt. “You shouldn’t have to do this,” she says softly. “Not after what I—”

“Then don’t make me regret it,” you interrupt, your voice firm.

She swallows hard, nodding. “I won’t.”

The Coven begins chanting again, the air growing thick with magic. The blue light spirals around you and Agatha, pulling you closer together. This time, the bond doesn’t form gently—it crashes into you, fierce and unrelenting, flooding every part of you with her essence. You feel her fear, her regret, her longing—all of it laid bare. And she feels you, your unwavering determination, your pain, your love.

The connection is deeper than it was before, forged not just from desire but from sacrifice. When the light fades, you’re left standing face to face, your souls intertwined in a way that can never be undone.

Agatha exhales shakily, as if the bond settling between you is more weight than she expected. Her gaze flickers over your face, searching for something—maybe forgiveness, maybe reassurance. You give her neither, not yet. She’s made too many mistakes for things to be that simple. But you can’t deny the way the bond thrums, anchoring you to her in a way that’s both exhilarating and terrifying.

The road quakes beneath you again, the energy of the trial still humming in the air. The Coven watches silently, their glowing eyes unreadable, as if they’re waiting for the next move.

Agatha takes a tentative step closer, her voice low. “How does it feel?” she asks, her words almost hesitant. “Having me in your head again.”

You let the question hang for a moment, savouring the way it makes her squirm. “Heavy,” you finally say, your tone sharper than you intended. “But that’s no surprise, is it? You’ve always been a lot to handle.”

Her lips quirk into a faint smirk, the familiar spark of defiance flaring in her eyes. “And yet, here you are. Handling me.”

You roll your eyes, but you don’t move away. The bond hums in agreement, pulling you closer even as you try to keep your distance. “Don’t push your luck, Agatha,” you warn. “This doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven you.”

Her smirk fades, replaced by something quieter, more vulnerable. “I know,” she says softly. “But it’s a start.”

Before you can respond, the lead witch steps forward, her presence as cold and imposing as ever. “The bond is reforged,” she announces, her voice echoing through the space. “But it does not absolve you, Agatha Harkness. This trial is far from over.”

Agatha straightens, her bravado snapping back into place like armour. “Of course it isn’t,” she says, her tone laced with sarcasm. “Wouldn’t want to make things too easy.”

The lead witch doesn’t react to the quip, her gaze sharp and unyielding. “The bond may strengthen you, but it also binds you. Your fates are now intertwined. Should one of you fall, the other will follow.”

You glance at Agatha, and for the first time, you see genuine fear flicker across her face. “What does that mean?” you ask, your voice steady but firm.

“It means,” the lead witch says, “that the bond is both your greatest power and your greatest vulnerability. Use it wisely—or perish together.”

The words hang heavy in the air, and you feel the weight of them settle into your chest. Agatha glances at you, and you can tell she’s thinking the same thing: what have we just done?

“Fine,” Agatha says finally, her voice tight. “What’s next? Another test? Another round of judgment?”

The lead witch’s lips curl into a faint smile, but there’s no warmth in it. “You think this is a game, Harkness. But the road has already given you its answer. The only question now is whether you’re strong enough to face what comes next.”

The ground beneath you shifts again, and you feel the magic of the road pulling you deeper into its grip. Agatha reaches for you instinctively, her hand brushing against yours. The bond flares at the contact, filling you with a rush of her emotions.

Fear. Regret. Determination. And something else, buried deep, that feels almost like hope.

One again the road surges to life around you, swallowing the quiet moment between you and Agatha. The blue glow deepens, swirling with flecks of violet and gold, and the air feels like it’s being pulled apart. You grip her hand tighter, instinctively bracing yourself, and she doesn’t pull away.

The lead witch raises a hand, silencing the murmuring Coven. Her gaze fixes on the two of you like a blade about to strike. “The reforged bond is only the beginning. What lies ahead will test the strength of your connection—and the truth of your intentions.”

Agatha scoffs, though the sound is weaker than usual. “Another vague warning? How original.”

The lead witch’s smile is razor-thin. “The road reveals what is hidden. It will force you to confront the past you thought buried—and the consequences of choices you’ve both made.”

You glance at Agatha, whose jaw tightens. She’s always been so good at hiding what she’s feeling, but the bond makes that impossible for her now, you wonder if she knew that.

Before you can press her, the ground beneath you crumbles. The Coven’s chanting rises into a deafening crescendo as the two of you are plunged into a swirling abyss of light and shadow. Xx

When the world solidifies again, you’re standing in a dimly lit forest. The air is heavy with the scent of earth and moss, and the moon hangs low in the sky, casting everything in an eerie silver light. The road is gone, as is the Coven. It’s just you and Agatha now.

You turn to her, your heart still racing. “Where are we?”

Agatha looks around, her expression unreadable. “This… this is Salem,” she says quietly. “But not the Salem we knew. It’s different.”

The forest feels alive, the trees whispering secrets you can’t quite make out. The bond hums in your chest, tugging at something deeper, and you know without needing to ask: this place isn’t real. It’s a manifestation. A memory.

“Why would the road bring us here?” you ask, though the answer is already forming in the back of your mind.

Agatha’s lips press into a thin line. “Because it’s cruel,” she mutters. “And it knows where to hurt.”

A sound echoes through the forest—laughter, high and clear, cutting through the silence like a blade. Your stomach twists as you recognise it.

It’s her.

Your younger self steps into the clearing, a vision pulled straight from your memories. She’s vibrant, her eyes bright with hope, her laughter filling the air. And beside her, laughing just as freely, is Agatha.

The sight punches the air from your lungs. You can feel the echoes of that time through the bond—the joy, the connection, the longing that neither of you dared to name.

Agatha stares at the scene, her face pale. “Why are they showing us this?” she whispers.

“You know why,” you say, your voice low. “Because this is where it all started.”

The memory shifts, darkening at the edges. The laughter fades, replaced by tense whispers. The younger version of you steps closer to Agatha, her expression vulnerable, open.

“I don’t want to run,” your younger self says, her voice trembling. “I want to stay. I want to bond with you, Agatha. I—”

“Stop,” the real Agatha mutters, her voice tight.

But the memory plays on. Younger Agatha’s face twists, fear flashing in her eyes. She steps back, shaking her head. “No,” she says, her voice sharp and final. “We can’t. I won’t.”

“Why?” your younger self pleads.

“Because you deserve better than me!” Memory Agatha snaps, her voice cracking, before you hear her internal voice, one that’s truly broken and screaming out in fear “Because I’ll ruin you. Don’t you see that? I ruin everything I touch.”

The words hit like a physical blow, and you see the real Agatha flinch beside you. The memory fades, leaving the clearing silent once more.

You turn to her, your chest tight with emotion. “That’s why you left?” you ask, your voice raw. “Because you thought you’d ruin me?”

Agatha doesn’t meet your eyes. “It doesn’t matter,” she says quietly. “I did ruin you, didn’t I? I left, and you—”

“Don’t,” you interrupt, your voice sharper than you intended. “Don’t turn this into a pity party, Agatha. You don’t get to decide what I deserved. That was my choice to make.”

Her head snaps up, her eyes flashing with something between anger and pain. “And look where your choice got us,” she spits. “Centuries apart, and now we’re tied together because of this damned road. Is that what you wanted? To be stuck with me forever?”

The bond flares at her words, the tension between you sparking like a live wire. You take a step closer, your voice steady but furious. “What I wanted,” you say, “was for you to trust me. To trust that we could’ve been something more. But you ran because you were too scared to face that.”

Agatha glares at you, but her shoulders sag, the fight draining out of her. “You think I don’t regret it?” she says, her voice breaking. “I’ve regretted it every single day. But I thought... I thought it was better this way. Safer. For both of us.”

“Safer?” you echo bitterly. “Do I look like someone who needed to be saved from you?”

The air between you crackles with magic, the bond pulling tighter as your emotions clash and collide. You can feel her guilt, her longing, her fear—and beneath it all, her love. It’s raw and messy and imperfect, but it’s there, undeniable.

You’re about to say something before the forest grows darker, shadows stretching long and deep as the memory shifts again. You brace yourself, but nothing could prepare you for what the road dredges up next.

The scene crystallises around you: a small, dimly lit room with a single cracked mirror leaning against the wall. The air feels stifling, heavy with pain and desperation. It’s familiar—achingly so. This is where you went the night after Agatha left.

Agatha stands frozen beside you, her breath catching as she takes in the sight of you from centuries ago. Your younger self sits hunched on the floor, trembling, clutching a flickering ball of magic in your hands. The light glows faintly pink, pulsing in time with your heartbeat, but it’s unstable, wavering with every shaky breath you take.

“No,” Agatha whispers, stepping toward the memory as if she can change it. “No, no, no—what are you doing?”

But the memory unfolds without mercy.

Your younger self mutters under her breath, an incantation so jagged and broken it sounds like a dirge. The magic in your hands sparks violently, surging outward before collapsing back in on itself.

“Take it away,” your memory-self says, her voice cracking. “Take it all away. I don’t want it anymore.”

You remember the feeling all too well—the suffocating pain, the emptiness that threatened to swallow you whole. The bond you’d started to forge with Agatha had been severed, but not cleanly. It had left jagged edges, a wound that pulsed with every beat of your heart. You’d thought if you could rid yourself of your magic, you’d be free of her—free of the ache she left behind.

“Stop,” Agatha says aloud, her voice trembling. She reaches for the image of you, but her hand passes through it like smoke. She turns to you, her eyes wide and desperate. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you—”

“Because you weren’t there,”, the hurt in your voice cutting through the air like a blade. “You left, Agatha. I was alone.”

The younger you falters, tears streaming down her face. “I can’t do this,” she sobs, gripping the magic tighter. “I can’t feel her anymore. I can’t—”

The incantation grows louder, your magic swirling around you like a storm. It’s unstable, laced with anger and grief, threatening to implode. And for a moment, it feels like it will work—like you’ll succeed in ripping away the part of you that still clings to her.

But the spell breaks, shattering like glass, and the magic snaps back into you with a force that knocks your younger self to the ground. You cry out, curling into yourself as the bond—though faint and fractured—reasserts itself. It’s agony, the connection too stubborn to let go completely, no matter how much you tried to destroy it.

The memory fades, leaving the clearing eerily silent. Agatha stands rooted in place, her face pale and stricken. You can feel the weight of her guilt through the bond, heavier than ever, pressing into you like a physical thing.

“You tried to... take your magic away?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper. “Because of me?”

“Yes,” you say, your tone flat. “And I failed. Just like I failed to let you go.”

Her lips part, but no words come out. She looks at you like she’s seeing you for the first time, the full scope of what she did to you finally crashing down on her. “I didn’t know,” she says weakly. “I didn’t—”

“Of course you didn’t,” you cut her off. “You ran, Agatha. You made your choice, and you didn’t look back.”

Her shoulders slump, her walls crumbling entirely. “I thought I was protecting you,” she says, her voice trembling. “I thought... if I stayed, I’d only hurt you more.”

“Well, congratulations,” you say bitterly. “You hurt me anyway.”

The bond flares between you, sharp and raw with the weight of her regret and your lingering anger. Agatha flinches, her hand rising to her chest as if she can feel the ache directly.

“I was a coward,” she admits, her voice breaking. “I was so afraid of what the bond meant—what it would do to me. To us. I thought if I left, it would be easier for both of us.” She meets your eyes, and for once, there’s no deflection, no sarcasm. Just honesty. “I didn’t know it would be worse.”

You take a shaky breath, the pain of the memory still fresh. “I didn’t want it to hurt anymore,” you say quietly. “But it never stopped. Not for centuries.”

Agatha steps closer, her hand hovering near yours. “I don’t know how to make it right,” she says, her voice soft and unsteady. “But if you’ll let me, I’ll try. I’ll spend the rest of eternity trying.”

You study her face, the vulnerability in her expression. The bond hums between you, not as sharp as before, but still raw and unsteady. You don’t trust her—not completely. But for the first time in centuries, you feel something else beneath the anger: the faintest flicker of hope.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you say, your voice softer than before.

Agatha’s lips quirk into a faint, rueful smile. “I won’t,” she says. “Not this time.”

You take a deep breath, and you nod as you both start to walk, looking away from her, your eyes taking in the trees around you both, the silence that is only broken by crickets and your feet on fallen leaves every now and again.

The mist clings to you both like a second skin as the silence stretches, weighted and tense. The bond hums faintly between you, but there’s a strange hollowness to it, a missing note that makes your chest ache. It takes you a while to place it, but the realisation creeps up on you slowly, like a shadow in the corner of your mind.

You glance at Agatha. She’s walking beside you, her shoulders squared in that way that screams she’s unbreakable a lie she’s always told herself. But there’s something missing. Something that isn’t just her sharp-edged confidence.

You stop walking. “Agatha,” you say, your voice cautious but firm. “Your magic.”

She freezes, her back going rigid. Slowly, she turns to face you, her expression carefully neutral, but the bond betrays her. You feel her shame and frustration ripple through it, sharp and unsteady.

“What about it?” she asks, her voice brittle.

“It’s not there,” you say, your tone softer now. “Not the way it used to be. What happened to it?”

She looks away, her jaw clenching. “It’s not important.”

“It is to me,” you counter, stepping closer. “You’ve been hiding this from me, Agatha. Why? What happened?”

Her silence stretches too long, and for a moment, you think she won’t answer. Then, finally, she exhales sharply, her eyes dark with something raw and vulnerable.

“Wanda happened,” she says bitterly. “Westview, she stripped me of everything. My magic, my power—she left me with nothing but a body and a few clever words.”

Your heart stutters. “She took everything?”

“Yes,” Agatha snaps, her voice laced with frustration. “I can’t even light a damn candle without the bond. Do you have any idea how humiliating it is to be this?” She gestures at herself angrily. “This hollow shell of what I used to be?”

Her words hang between you, her anger bleeding into the bond. But underneath it, you feel the deeper truth: the helplessness, the fear, the grief of losing something so integral to who she is.

“Agatha,” you start, but she cuts you off, her voice sharp and bitter.

“Don’t,” she says. “Don’t give me some speech about how I’m more than my magic or how I’ll be fine. You don’t understand what it’s like—how empty it feels.”

Your chest tightens, the weight of her pain pressing against you through the bond. And suddenly, you do understand. The absence of her magic isn’t just a loss of power—it’s a loss of self, a wound that’s been festering since Westview.

“I wasn’t going to say that,” you say quietly. “But you’re right. I don’t understand what it’s like to lose magic. I don’t understand how it feels for you. But I can feel it, Agatha. Through the bond. And it hurts.”

Her eyes snap to yours, her expression faltering.

“I feel the emptiness, the hollowness,” you continue. “And I don’t want to feel it anymore. I don’t want you to feel it anymore.”

Her laugh is short and bitter. “Well, unless you’re planning on storming Westview I don’t see what you can do about it.”

You hesitate, the reckless idea forming in your mind. The bond between you hums faintly, and you realise there might be a way to fix this—or at least try.

“I can’t get Wanda to undo it,” you say slowly. “But I can give you something else. My magic.”

Agatha freezes, her expression unreadable. “What?”

“You heard me,” you say. “I can share my magic with you. Just enough to—”

“No,” she says sharply, taking a step back. “Absolutely not. That’s reckless and stupid, even for you.”

“You need magic to be whole again, Agatha,” you argue. “And we have the bond. It’s not just a connection—it’s a tether. If anyone can do this, it’s us.”

“You don’t know that,” she snaps, her voice trembling. “You could hurt yourself. Or me. Or worse, you could sever the bond completely. Have you thought about that?”

“I have,” you say, your voice steady. “And after realising what you’re feeling through our bond I’m willing to take that risk.”

Her anger falters, replaced by something softer—something closer to fear. “Why?” she asks, her voice quieter now. “Why would you do that for me?”

You step closer, your gaze locking with hers. “Because I feel you, Agatha. I’ve felt you for centuries, even when I didn’t want to. And I can’t stand feeling you like this anymore. I can’t stand seeing you like this.”

Her eyes shine with unshed tears, and for a moment, she looks like she might argue again. But then she nods, her hands trembling at her sides.

“Fine,” she whispers. “But if this goes wrong we’re both dead…”

“It won’t,” you say firmly. “Trust me.”

You reach for her hand, your fingers brushing hers lightly. The bond flares at the contact, and Agatha inhales sharply, her magic—or what’s left of it—stirring faintly in response.

You close your eyes, focusing on the bond and the magic coursing through you. You channel it carefully, letting it flow toward her like a steady stream. It’s not painless—the act feels like giving away pieces of yourself, leaving raw edges behind. But through the bond, you feel her presence grow stronger, her magic flickering to life like an ember reignited.

Agatha gasps softly, her grip on your hand tightening as the magic flows between you. When you finally stop, your knees feel weak, and the bond hums with a new warmth—a sense of balance that wasn’t there before.

You open your eyes to find her staring at you, her expression unreadable.

“How do you feel?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

She hesitates, then says, “Stronger.”

A faint smile tugs at her lips, and before you can react, she steps closer, her cheek brushing against yours. The touch is soft, fleeting, but it sends a warmth through the bond that makes your breath catch. Her hand cups the back of your head and her other hand holds your lower back.

“Thank you,” she whispers, her voice thick with emotion.

You wrap your arms around her, exhaustion tugging at you. “Don’t make me regret it.”

She pulls back just enough to meet your eyes, her gaze steady. “I won’t.”

#agatha harkness #agatha x reader #agatha all along #agatha harkness x reader

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zaine-m · 1 day ago

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first responders arcane AU.

they get a call about a man about to jump off a bridge.

The paramedics arrived first Viktor immediately gets on the ledge with him and tries to talk to him about his mental state. Jayce is shitting his pants with fear, what if Viktor falls, what if this guy pushes Viktor off. The rest of the first responders don't know what to do and are just preparing possible rescue if he jumps but he gets mad when anyone else tries to come close.

After a bit of talking the man still decides he wants to die and Viktor offers his hand saying "you wouldn't want to die alone, would you?". Jayce is running in circles trying to find something to do to stop this.

The man looks at Viktor and asks "why would you do that?", "nobody should be forced to go through these troubles alone". He finally turns around and begins to climb back onto the bridge.

Jayce runs to Viktor full sprint and lifts him over the railing, "oh my god, never do that again. There are procedures. You could have died", "eh, this method has never failed me before" "...what do you mean before?"

Jayce finds Viktor later that night smoking, "you shouldn't be doing that, you know with your lungs and all"

"eh cancer would take at least 5 years to develop then another year for it to kill me and by that time... I'd already be gone"

Jayce pauses and looks deep into Viktor's eyes, staring off into the night.

Viktor continues "I... yeah... don't tell Heimderdinger. He only let me take this job because I told him my health was improving"

"god, I'm so sorry. I had no idea"

Viktor puts out the cigarette on the pavement "no point ruining your lungs too... I wasn't worried today because I knew it didn't matter. I die on some bridge or I die in a hospital, either way i died without making any impact on this world, nothing for people to remember me by"

"Viktor, what you do every day matters. All those people will remember you"

"I spend half of my time assessing colds and checking in on old people"

"And the other half you spend being there for people on their worst days. They might not remember your name but they'll remember seeing your face and knowing that someone was fighting for them to live. And I'll... I'll make sure your name is remembered" Jayce places a hand on Viktor's cheek, "I'll never forget your name Viktor"

"Thank you, Jayce" Viktor closes his eyes softly as he sees Jayce begin to lean into his face. The kiss they share is soft and gentle in a way that makes Viktor forget the dread of his diagnosis and want to stay in that moment forever

#jayce talis #arcane viktor #viktor arcane #arcane #jayvik

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kentofic · 2 days ago

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hi! ♡ for the christmas scene prompts, can i request 002 & nanami? ♡

i see the vision and absolutely i can 💗 also hello writer of one of my fav zayne fics?? honored to make your acquaintance 🙇🏻‍♀️ this ended up deeply unserious and a little spicy instead of tender, i apologize

Warming up - Nanami Kento x reader (ft. baby Yuuji)

“…Still cold, I see.”

You glare up at Kento, teeth chattering as you huddle in front of the fireplace. You have a blanket tucked around you like a fleece burrito, and you poke your frozen fingers out from the opening, making grabby hands towards him.

“Shut up and gimme my drink, you smug bastard.”

Kento shakes his head, a wry smile on his lips as he places the mug of cocoa into your waiting hands. Your cold fingers clasp around it greedily, eager to soak up all the warmth from the smooth ceramic.

You shiver, your fingers tingling with the transition from frozen to thawed, and you take a sip of the steaming liquid. It replenishes you, warming you all the way down, but even hot cocoa can’t dissipate the persistent chill in your bones.

You look over your shoulder to check on the tiny menace conked out on the couch. Yuuji looks so peaceful like this—curled up under his favorite blanket, snoozing away, his unfinished cocoa abandoned on the coffee table. All but three years old, and he’s a proper agent of chaos. He had hardly waited for you to zip up his coat before bolting out the front door into the freshly fallen snow, too fast for you or Kento to catch. You had chased after him, yelling, his little gloves and hat in hand, as he squealed and launched himself headfirst into a snowdrift.

Thus ensued a game of tag that you sorely lost. Not only that, but you had forgotten your own coat in a heap by the door. By the time Kento came to drape it over your shoulders, you were already wet and cold from tussling in the snow with Yuuji. Kento said to go back inside and change, but Yuuji insisted the two of you must make a Nanamin snowman right that instant. Enamored by Yuuji’s sweet smile, you had wrapped your coat over the cold wet of your sweater and endured it until the toddler tuckered himself out.

Now you’re paying for it, curled up into a ball in front of the fireplace, Kento’s pursed lips saying without words: he told you so.

You pointedly ignore him, focusing instead on chasing the chill from your body. Your front feels warmer now—but your poor back and butt still feel cold to the bone. Staying crosslegged on the floor, you shuffle yourself 180 degrees until your back has been rotated towards the fireplace. You shiver, waiting for the warmth to spread through your chilled flesh.

Kento leans against the arm of the couch, his smile softening with fondness. He appraises you with one eyebrow arched, his amber eyes glittering with amusement.

“You’re like a rotisserie chicken, trying to get warm on all sides.”

You stick your tongue out at him. “It works, okay? My butt is cold!”

Kento chuckles, tilting his head slightly. “I could help with that.”

You open your mouth, then close it again. A new kind of warmth prickles your cheeks.

“…Well, if you’re offering,” you say after a moment, opening the blanket wrapped around you to invite him in.

He lifts the blanket off of you instead, and you protest with a startled, “Hey!”. A chill washes over you without your precious extra layer, but only briefly. Kento scoops you up and settles you on his lap, both of you facing the fire, and he rearranges the blanket across the two of you. Then he wraps his arms around your waist, his broad chest pressed to your back and his chin hooked over your shoulder. Cradled in his larger frame, warmth blooms through every inch of you, and you let out a happy sigh as you snuggle further into your personal space heater.

“Better?” he murmurs, nosing into the side of your neck before pressing a soft kiss there.

“Mm, much,” you hum in response. You set your cup down on the hearth so you can warm your hands on him instead—slipping your chilly fingers under the sleeves of his sweater to trace the warm, thick muscles of his forearms.

Kento shivers very slightly, but doesn’t protest—just lets you steal his body heat as much as you please. He nips at your earlobe, then grazes his teeth across the cold shell of your ear, his breath warming you there. A pleasant shudder rolls down your spine, and you relax further into him, feeling boneless and sleepy. The two of you sit like that for a while, a comfortable silence between you as you look into the crackling flames.

“You know, you were right,” Kento breaks the silence, his voice a soft rumble.

“Hm? Oh. I’m always right.” You giggle when Kento pinches your waist. “But what exactly was I right about?”

You feel him smile into your neck.

“Your butt is cold. Like an ice cube on my—”

“Kento!” You smack him, laughing and incredulous. He pulls your cold butt further into his lap, playfully grinding up into it. You wriggle around, trying to escape his grasp, but he just tightens his arms around you, his muscled forearms flexing under your hands as you try to pry them off.

“Where are you going?” Kento chuckles, his large, warm hands slipping under the hem of your sweater. “I like your cold butt. A lot. Would you mind if I borrowed it for a bit?”

#kento’s gonna end up warming you up more than the fire the blanket or the hot drink 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨#nanami kento x you #nanami kento x reader #kento nanami x you #kento nanami x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #nanami kento #kento nanami fluff #nanami kento fluff #nanami #jinnie fic

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bad268 · 14 hours ago

Text

MercDuo Pt. 2 (Andrea Kimi Antonelli x Mercedes Strategist! Reader)

Fandom: RPF/Formula 1

Requested: Yes by @f1fan123 (hehe I love this so much) (SURPRISE!)

Warnings: None (some slander against barbeque food)

POV: Second Person (You/your/They/them)

W.C. 1285

Summary: Kimi's maiden win comes in probably the worst place to celebrate it: Texas.

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

<-Part 1

~~(^Pinterest)

“Radio check, Kimi.”

“Loud and clear. What is my incentive for winning this race?”

“A paycheck.”

“Maybe if I had a real incentive, I would actually win instead of collecting all these podiums.”

“Maybe if you didn’t need an incentive to win a race, you would be in contention for the championship this year, but no. We’re here arguing about this. Focus on the damn race, and we’ll see if you actually get to sleep in the bed tonight.”

“Now that’s a reason to win!”

“Kimi, just focus on the lights.”

“And here I thought my wife and I argued a lot,” Jenson laughed after the Mercedes radio cut out of the broadcast. “These two just like to be at each other, but Y/n keeps Kimi in line. Their teamwork has found Kimi on 15 podiums in the 18 races so far this season, and as we head into qualifying for the American Grand Prix, everyone is interested to see how they shape up on this circuit.”

“Indeed, everyone knows that this track is notorious for overtakes, and it will be interesting to see how the young Mercedes duo shape up against the rest of the field after topping the practice session, qualifying third, and finishing second in the sprint, ” Danica Patrick said monotonously.

“Yeah, they showed great pace this weekend,” Jenson cheered, taking over as he subtly glared at Danica. She disregarded it before taking the mic again.

“The new upgrades on the car seem to suit Kimi’s driving style more, and Kimi himself is becoming more confident in the car,” She praised, which was rare, causing Jenson to look at her wide-eyed. “He’s getting comfortable, and I wouldn’t be surprised if this weekend he gets his maiden win. In his rookie year, no less. He has shown that he can run with drivers like Charles Leclerc, Lando Norris, Max Verstappen, and Lewis Hamilton. He’s proving that he deserved that seat, and he’s showing that Toto made the right call.”

“It’s a team effort, you know. Y/n is just as much to credit for his performance. They have been putting in the hours to find the best strategy, working out the effects of different tyre compounds on the cars, and ways Kimi could improve his driving style. Y/n is a big part of why he drives that way.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

“With that, let's take it to anyone else. Nico?”

The race itself was probably one of the easiest ones, strategy-wise. It was a straightforward race, and you had been letting Kimi take more control of what he wanted with the pitstops, opting to run quick calculations as the race went on. It seemed to be paying off as you and Kimi climbed up the stairs to celebrate his maiden win.

It wasn’t the way you imagined celebrating his maiden win, but you would take it any day. You glanced to the side and smiled at Kimi as he stood on the top step with George and Lewis on either side of him. It was a Mercedes 1-2, and you stood off to the side, representing the team. As the Italian and Austrian anthem played, you couldn’t help the tears in your eyes as you were so proud of your team and how far you had come. This was cause for celebration.

Well, you may have gotten ahead of yourself because if you were in Europe or something, you would be able to go out partying, but no. Kimi had to win in the United States, where the legal drinking age was 21, which neither you nor Kimi met. You still encouraged the rest of the team to go out, saying you and Kimi would find your own way to celebrate. After glaring at a few team members who were going to comment on your verbiage, you left to find Kimi wrapping up his media duties.

“Ah, just in time. We’re almost done,” Kimi said as he looked back at the interviewer before he chuckled nervously. “Eh, what was the question again?”

“Do you think you would have won with a different strategy?” The interviewer repeated with a bite in his tone. “That strategy was sketchy, to put it lightly. Surely put together by your underprepared race engineer, I bet.”

“Woah, wait a minute here,” You started to defend yourself, but Kimi simply put a hand on your shoulder.

“I made the call, they ran the numbers and said if I was comfortable with it, I could try,” Kimi explained condescendingly. “This badmouthing about it being a bad strategy because they made it is completely false. Y/n has worked very hard to get here, and they deserve their spot. They have proven this time and time again. If you are going to come at her because of a risky strategy I suggested, come at me, and we’ll see who comes out on top.”

“Is that a threat?”

“No, it’s a promise. Don’t talk bad about someone if you don’t have all of the facts. Isn’t that the first rule of journalism?” Kimi replied lowly as he ended with a chuckle, “Isn’t knowing the facts and not spreading lies part of your code of ethics?”

The interviewer shut up after that point and turned around, leaving the pen quickly. You quickly pulled Kimi aside away from prying eyes before you pushed him against the wall and smashed your lips against his.

“Not that I’m complaining about being kissed, but what was that?” He asked breathlessly after you pulled away.

“You’re so hot,” You sighed, pulling him back in for another kiss.

“When I defend you?” Kimi asked again after you got a moment apart.

“Sempre (Always),” You exhaled as you leaned into his body.

“And you’re so hot when you speak Italian,” Kimi smirked, this time pulling you in.

“Really?” You questioned, feigning innocence.

“Sempre,” Kimi finalized, planting one final kiss to your lips.

“Okay, loverboy,” You said as you reluctantly pulled away, patting his chest before grabbing his hand and turning to start heading to the car park. “Come on. We’re going to be late.”

“Late for what?” Kimi asked as he followed behind you.

“Our celebratory date night. Duh.”

The drive to a nearby barbeque restaurant was filled with music and horrible singing. Barbeque was not your typical choice for celebratory dinner, but when in Texas, you have to partake in the local cuisine.

“I don’t know how I feel about this,” Kimi admitted after he took his first bite. “I don’t know if it’s the sauce or the pork, but I don’t think it should be pulled like that.”

“I’m not feeling it either honestly,” You chuckled as you put your ribs back on the plate. “We could always head back to the hotel and get room service. I’d rather be cuddled up against you with a bowl of pasta or gelato while a movie plays in the background.”

“That sounds so much better than this,” He sighed as he called your server over to get the bill paid. Once it was all settled, you wasted no time in driving back to the hotel. It didn’t take long since the restaurant was nearby, and there was a noticeable lack of traffic. You both walked up to the hotel entrance hand-in-hand just as most of the Mercedes engineers were making their way out.

“What are you guys doing back so early? Wasn’t your reservation for 7?” One of the engineers who recommended the place asked as you stopped to greet them.

“Yeah, but we don’t like barbeque, so we came back for pasta and a movie,” You explained and Kimi nodded along.

“God, you two are so Italian.”

~~~~~

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judes-hoe · 3 days ago

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Birthday wish ~ KM9

Genre ~ smut(18+), fluff

Summary ~ it’s kylian birthday, all he wishes was to just have a calm day at home with you, when night comes you end the day with the perfect gift…

Warnings ~ subby kyky, dom reader, oral (male receiving), teasing, orgasm denial, very little ‘mommy’ usage, very much ‘good boy’ usage, p in v (unprotected), boob play,

A/N ~ HAPPY BIRTHDAY KYKY!!!! Love you sm!!!🩷🩷 (I used the competitive meme, yes I got it from @kymb-10 but she said it was OKAY for me to use!!!!)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kylians last birthday landed on when PSG had a match, so you and him just went out with the team to celebrate the win and his birthday. Though that night he told you his wish for his next birthday, he wanted just a day with you, and you only. Nothing else.

So now, after the move to Real Madrid. The months passed quickly and it was finally 20th, December, Kylians birthday.

You woken up extra early and made him his favorite cheat breakfast meal. Then brought it to him in bed. “Bébé, you didn’t need to do this.” He said and took the tray placing it on his lap. “It’s your birthday, the only time of the year I can spoil you.” You said getting back in your spot next to him. “Okay I’ll give you that.” He said biting into the delicious pancake. Letting out a groan of approval.

Kylian fed you bits and pieces too, before placing the empty tray on the bedside table. “So what does my beautiful girl have planned for me.” He looked at you. You smile and wipe syrup off the corner of his mouth. “Well you wished last year that you just wanted your birthday to be me and you.” You explain. “So I just planned a day of baking cookies, watching movies.” You tell him.

You and Kylian just laid in bed, until around 1pm, you decided to get up to make cookies. You had cleaned up the kitchen before getting everything ready. Kylian didn’t like the repackaged cookies, he likes your homemade cookies.

Making the dough was fun, a little flour getting on your noses. “We still have some dough left.” You said looking at the left over dough. “We should make little ginger bread people!” You said excitedly. “Or we can see who makes the best!” Kylian suggested, you give him a look letting out a little laugh. “What? Why are you laughing.” He looks at you.

“You know, sometimes in the life. I’m too competitive. It’s good to be competitive on the field— but in the life you don’t.” You imitating him. He gives you a deadpan look. “Really?” He said unamused. “Yeah.” You giggle.

You and Kylian make two ginger bread people before putting everything in the oven. You and Kylian then make your way to the couch, Turing the fireplace on, snuggling up together with blankets, and putting on a movie.

About 25 minutes into the movie the timer goes off and you go check the cookies. You take them out of the oven, putting them on a big plate and going back. Setting the plate on the coffee table and snuggling back up with him. Kylian tucks you under his arm. “Thank you, this is all I need on my birthday.” He whispered as he kisses the top of your head. “…no need to thank me, I’m just giving you want you wish me.” You tell him.

The rest of the day went by in a blur, watching many movies, snacks, cookies, and then Kylians favorite home cooked meal. After dinner it was around 8pm, the sun had now set, and more snow falling outside. “How about we go to the bedroom, snuggle up, and just relax now.” You tell him, kylian nods and follows you to the bedroom you stop in the doorway and face him. “What?” He asked. “I forgot my night water, can you go get it and fill it up?” You asked, it was true you forgot it, on purpose. You always had to have your cup filled with cold water, you tended to wake up thirsty at night.

Kylian presses a kiss to your forehead and walks away to the kitchen. You quickly undress, your sexy white lingerie, that left little to the imagination. You bought this a few days ago for his birthday specifically. You sit on the edge of the bed, legs crossed. “One night wat—“ Kylians words cut short and mouth falling open when he walks back to the room. “My god..” he finishes. He saw that look in your eyes. The one that told him you were in control, that you can do whatever you want and he cant say anything or else he’s a ‘bad boy’ and he’s learned his lesson the hard way.

“Come on, you know the drill, undress for me pretty boy.” You demand, Kylian quickly setting the water on the dresser. Undressing himself quickly, climbing on the bed, and laying his back on the pillows. “Look at you, so good for me..” you said crawling onto the bed, on all fours crawling until your between his legs. “Mommy..” he whimpers.

You smirk, leaning forward, you boobs smushed between your arms. He lets out a groan, his dick getting harder by the second. Kylian was such a boob guy. You lean down pressing kisses all over his neck. Lowering a little to suck that space between his neck and shoulder that always makes him squirm. “F-fuck..” he stutters out a moan. You lower more, moving very slowly. Pressing kisses all over his chest, down to his abs, and all the way down to his cock.

Purposely kissing around it to his thighs. “You’re doing good, just like a good boy.” You mumble to him. You finally give him what he wanted. Pressing his kiss to the head on his dick. Kylians eyes flutter a little. “Tell me what you want baby.” You said running a finger along his shaft. “You..your mouth, your cunt…something mommy…” he whimpers and begs.

You take your thumb and rub the small bit of pre cum around the head of it. “Good boy…” you smirk and slowly take him into your mouth. Kylian lets out a series of whimpers and whines. His grip in the sheets tightened. “S—shit..” he groans.

You slowly start to move your head but also start using your tongue on him. Kylians eyes flutter and he moans. “Shit…please…so close..” he said. You pull your head off him, making him buck his hips and whine, looking at you desperately. “no no— please, I’m a good boy.” He said. “It’s my birthday don’t do this to me.” He begs.

You smirk and move yourself to straddle him. “Look at you begging like a good boy.” You say leaning down pulling him into a deep kiss. “Mommy’s good boy..” you mumble. You reach under you, pulling the thong to the side, grabbing his cock and lining it up. He looks up at you, desperate, and vulnerable eyes looking at you, begging you. You slowly sink onto him, Kylian watches as you slowly take his full length.

He lets out a breathy moan. Kylian watches you slowly rocking your hips against his lap, adding a small bounce to it. “P—permission to touch you?” He asked looking up at you. You softly nod, letting out moans yourself. One hand going to your hip, the other taking your bra off. His mouth immediately latching to your boob.

You throw your head back, a hand on his chest to balance yourself. You speed up your movements. “Shit…fuck I’m coming!!” You moan loudly. Clenching around his cock, coming hard around him. He bucks his hips, coming right behind you. After you denied him the first time he was already on edge. He takes his mouth off of you and moans.

You lay against his chest, his cock slowly softening and slipping out of you. His cum dripping out of you onto his cock. “Best…birthday…ever…” Kylian says breathlessly. “Glad you loved it.” You said kissing his chest.

After you did all the work, kylian clean both of you up with a warm wet cloth. Helping you put his t-shirt on. He then put his boxers on and laid with you again. “Can I have the same thing next year?” He asked. “Of course.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

#judes-hoe😚#kylian mbappe #subby kylian #kylian angst #kylian fluff #kylian smut #kylian mbappe blurb #kylian fanfic #kylian mbappe x reader #kylian mbappe fanfic #kylian x reader #kylian imagines #kylian lottin mbappé #kylian x you #kylian Mbappé

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touyaismycomfortboy · 11 hours ago

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♡ mr. aizawa's wife....

a/n: i'll probably most definitely write about husband aizawa with a wife who has a quirk, but for now here are some quirkless wife hcs <3 this is lowkey all over the place, all I've been thinking about is husband aizawa and what that would be like so i need to dump out all my thoughts and then I'll write smth more organized eventually

word count: 0.7k

synopsis: what it would be like to be aizawa's wife <3

pairing: shouta aizawa x fem!quirkless!reader

genre: headcanons? dump? i honestly dont know!! i'm just writing stuff fr <33

you're not a pro-hero so you don't work at UA, but you're still there all the time. the heroes truly love you, you oftentimes get bored after your own job and bring the faculty fresh baked goods, typically leaving a big tray in the teachers' lounge but delivering aizawa's to him since he's always so busy with class.

the first time you met his new first years they were doing some training outside, you had just come by the school with a tray of peanut butter chocolate cookies and were about to deliver some to aizawa and give him a chaste kiss on the cheek before heading home.

when the girls of the class saw you walk up to aizawa out of the corner of their eyes and give him a kiss they gasped and stopped whatever they were doing.

aizawa panicked when he realized they saw and told them to get back to training, but they were already immediately approaching you and showering you with questions.

"oh my god mister aizawa has a wife?!" "how long have you two been together?!" "how did you guys meet?!" "what is aizawa like at home?"

you would laugh nervously and brush off their questions, whispering something to them about how aizawa is secretly a snuggle bug or something of that nature and usher them back to training, watching as they giggle and whisper to each other as they walk back, looking at aizawa and giggling some more.

aizawa isn't sure what you told them, but he'll "glare" at you for a moment with no real anger behind his stare, then mumble a quick "love you" before returning to work.

if you get off of work before him, he loves coming home and crawling into your arms, collapsing on top of you if you're lying on the couch.

he feels like a classy man when he wants to be. he'll be the kind of man to tell you to be ready at 7pm and to wear a nice outfit, and tell you he got you both a reservation at a restaurant.

he'll never tell you where it'll be, but he'll make sure to vet the menu beforehand just to make sure it has food you like so you never have to pretend to like something around him.

it will never be an insanely popular place with a bunch of people, but it'll always be nice. he doesn't like loud, crowded restaurants that are so loud he can barely taste the food in front of him, he loves quiet and intimate spaces with you.

if you ever volunteer to chaperone at a UA camp or dance or any other event, he always secretly loves watching you work with his students. he loves the chemistry you build with each of them and the effort you put into building friendships with them.

izuku loves to talk to you, he's always running up to you with his notebook asking questions about what the personal life of a pro hero is like and seeing if you have any anecdotes or fun facts about his quirk.

you're also one of the people all might lets see his true form before it's revealed to the public. you're always worrying over him, and he always brushes it off and tells you that he's okay, but you still check on him every time you visit UA.

as seen with how he acts around his students when something traumatic happens to them, he's very good at talking you through whenever you're sad. he's not a man of many words, but the words he does say leave an impact, and he always knows what to say.

he's not much for PDA, most people don't even know he has a wife until you just show up since he's so private, he prefers his intimate affairs stay intimate, he doesn't like everyone in his business or knowing how he acts around his wife.

nothing makes him feel guiltier than all the times you're awake for days on end next to his hospital bed after protecting his students from a dangerous situation. you understand why he does it, how important his students are to him, but still... seeing how destroyed his body gets after a villain encounter always makes you sick to your stomach, and you never feel quite at ease when he's working.

you both love taking naps together, if naps could be a love language that would be your guys'. you're always snuggling when alone and one thing will lead to another and you both end up snoozing on the couch for 30 minutes or so, something about being in each other's presence is so relaxing.

#aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta x reader #shouta aizawa #aizawa #aizawa shouta #bnha #mha #my hero academia #carmen writes bnha #bnha x reader #boku no hero academia #mha x reader #fluff #headcanons

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they-are-a-prolife-autist · 20 hours ago

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“Late term abortions are so rare we do not even need to worry about them and they ONLY happen for life of the mother situations.”

Ok let’s fact-check that.

Firstly:

.065% of abortions are because a woman’s life is endangered, and .666 are because of a fetal abnormality

So 0.731% of abortions would even possibly be argued as justified in that sense, and the likely good that all of those were caught AFTER 21 weeks is low. Right?

So let’s address late terms being uncommon. Abortions at later gestational durations are comparatively uncommon: only 1.0% of abortions take place at or after 21 weeks after the first day of the pregnant person's last menstrual period

Yet, researchers estimate there were 1,026,700 abortions in 2023. "That's the highest number in over a decade, [and] the first time there have been over a million abortions provided in the U.S. formal health care system since 2012,"

1% of 1,026,700 is 10,276.

0.731% (which is what could be feasibly argued be be “necessary” remember? And even that I would disagree in many of those cases,) is 7505.177.

Roughly 10,276 abortions a year are late term. Let’s put this into some context.

In the United States, there are approximately 4,000 unintentional drowning deaths each year, which is about 11 deaths per day.

In 2022, there were 3,790 civilian fire deaths in the United States.

In 2022, the FBI reported that there were 4,251 victims of murder who identified as female in the United States. A further 93 murder victims were of an unknown gender in that year.

Sooooo… your idea of “so rare it isn’t worth discussing” is more than twice the annual American deaths by drowning. More than twice the annual American deaths by fire, more than twice the number of American women murdered a year.

And even IF we decide that the 7,505 were 100% necessary and unavoidable (which I highly doubt) that still leaves 2,762 late term abortions that weren’t. 8 viable babies a day.

That’s significantly higher than the body counts of any serial killer in history. 8 a day. Minimum.

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bigmpregnm · 2 days ago

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Wrestling the Changes - Part 2

[Story Collection] | [Part 1] [●] [Part 3🔴]

Hayden walked confidently through the empty halls, enjoying the cold wind announcing the impending December snowfall as the soft glow of the setting sun cast long shadows across the campus. Hayden had always loved the cold, even though he grew up in a permanently hot town. He was excited about going home for the holidays in about two weeks, but he had a lot of things to do before enjoying some family time with his parents and little brother.

As he approached the gym for practice, Hayden took a deep breath and smiled, thinking about the events of the last two months. It had been eight weeks since the day he joined the wrestling team and met his teammates. For the first 4 weeks, Hayden went through intense practices in preparation for the regular season, which started in November. He trained with James, Marcus, Jake, Tyler, and Connor six days a week and reached the proper conditioning for the dual meets and open tournaments, setting the stage for the season.

Hayden couldn’t help but inflate his chest with pride as he recalled all the victories he brought for the team, helping them win all the duals and the tournaments and filling the coach with pride. They still had more matches ahead before the holidays and a local championship before the New Year, so they still had work to do. Hayden was very excited about his success with the team, and it also helped him get closer to his teammates, James in particular.

After the wild rounds of sex they had on the day they met, Hayden and James had messed around some more, but not as seriously as the first time. Whenever Hayden performed well in practice or during the duals in November, James rewarded him with secret encounters in the lockers or other random places, to make out. They hadn’t talked about being exclusive or having a relationship, which was good with Hayden. He loved to feel James’ body against his, but neither of them was interested in a serious relationship.

As Hayden thought about James’ magnificent body, remembering a few times when the massive guy rode Hayden’s big dick, he felt his fuck tool harden in his pants, and a grin spread on his face. College life was going better than expected. He had grown accustomed to the rigorous demands, balancing his studies with the grueling wrestling practices that had become a central part of his routine, and on top of it all, he had lots of fun with James and the other teammates.

Fixing his pants to hide his half-hard dick, Hayden pushed the heavy gym doors, expecting to see James and the others already there, but Marcus stood alone in the middle of the mat with his wrestling singlet already on. Marcus turned as he heard the door open, and a welcoming smile spread across his face when he saw Hayden. Even after all those months, Hayden couldn’t help but gasp at Marcus’ towering and imposing frame, making the tall guy smile even more.

“Hey, Hayden,” Marcus greeted Hayden. “It looks like it’s just the two of us tonight.”

Hayden returned the smile as he approached and shook Marcus’ hand. “Hey, Marcus. I guess so. Where’s everyone else?”

“Coach decided to give us the night off, but I didn’t check on my phone on time, and I guess you didn’t either,” Marcus explained as he began stretching. Hayden took his phone from his bag, only to find the messages from the coach. “Since we’re both here, what do you say about a one-on-one to work on a few things?” Marcus asked, and Hayden nodded.

“Sure, let me change, and I’ll be back in a second,” Hayden responded with a smile.

Hayden went to the locker room and quickly removed his thick jacket, sweatpants, and shirt. Standing only in his jockstrap, Hayden glanced at his reflection in the mirror, and a few thoughts crossed his mind. He had noticed a slight change in his physique over the past few weeks. His muscles looked bulgier than ever due to the arduous training but seemed somewhat softer.

He didn’t mind the bulk because it helped him on the mat against the opponents, but he couldn’t help but feel worried about the sudden increase in his weight, most noticeable on his abdomen. His once-chiseled abs now bore the faintest hint of softness and a rounding-out shape that Hayden had always avoided. His ass, already prominent after all his years of training, also looked fuller and jiggled more than ever before. He attributed these changes to the infamous freshman 15, expected during a guy’s transition to college life, but he had already gained 14 pounds in only 9 weeks since joining the wrestling team, so he was still worried.

Snapping out of his trance, Hayden quickly put on his singlet, noticing that the stretchy material only accentuated the changes on his body. The red fabric strained to contain his bulging pecs, stretched taut around his midsection, and barely held his fat ass and big bulge in place. Hayden softly groaned as he adjusted his singlet between his thick thighs, realizing that he would need a bigger singlet if he got any bigger.

As he stepped out of the locker room and approached Marcus, Hayden couldn’t help but marvel at his teammate’s physique again, causing his dick to harden in the pouch of his jockstrap again.

“Ready to get started?” Marcus asked, grinning when he noticed Hayden’s singlet looking ready to burst and his half-hard dick straining the singlet. “You look great, Hayden, but… you’ve put on a bit of weight.” Marcus winked and looked at Hayden’s body up and down.

Hayden shifted uncomfortably, his cheeks flushing as he scratched the back of his head. “Yeah. I’ve noticed it. I think it’s just the freshman 15 catching up with me. I’ve been trying to keep up with my workouts, but I guess I’ve been eating too much lately.”

Marcus nodded as he walked around Hayden, his gaze lingering on his bulging abdomen and glutes. “Don’t worry, it happens to the best of us, man, and you look amazing!” Marcus said, playfully slapping Hayden’s ass to see it jiggle, making the young man gasp. “But we can work on this together. Practice will be just the two of us, so we can focus on specific moves and conditioning for the mid and lower parts of the body.”

Hayden chuckled when Marcus slapped his ass again as they moved to the center of the mat, their bodies poised and ready for action. Marcus took the lead, demonstrating his speed and strength through different moves and techniques. Hayden watched closely and followed Marcus’ instructions.

Then, Marcus said they had to put the techniques into practice, prompting Hayden to attack him, which Hayden immediately did. Marcus’ larger frame seemed to dominate the match as their bodies collided, but Hayden had no intention of giving up without making Marcus sweat. He had improved over the last two months, so Hayden was determined to show the bigger man that he couldn’t easily defeat him.

Both of them groaned while they pushed against each other’s bodies. “Keep your stance low,” Marcus said. “And remember to use your hips. I can tell you have great strength there.” Marcus added, slightly stepping backward and making Hayden lose balance.

Marcus quickly moved and wrapped his arms around Hayden’s torso to reach for the young guy’s back and grab his massive ass. Marcus grinned and loosened his grip enough for Hayden to turn around, attempting to leave. Then, Marcus pulled Hayden tighter against him, feeling the massive ass rub against his bulge and making Hayden pant. Marcus hugged Hayden from behind so tightly that Hayden could feel Marcus’ pecs pushing against his back and his dick stirring to life.

“You’re doing great, Hayden. And this weight gain isn’t bad. You look better than ever,” Marcus whispered into Hayden’s ears as he released him from the hug, but Hayden stayed there, enjoying having Marcus’ muscular body against his.

“Thanks. I guess your dick confirms you like how I look,” Hayden said, pushing his hips backward to feel more of Marcus’ dick against him. “I know what you’re doing, and I’m not against it. You also look great. Maybe you’d like to do a workout focused on the hips.”

Marcus chuckled and firmly grabbed Hayden’s hips. “Sounds perfect.”

Both guys quickly threw their singlets and jockstraps away. Hayden got on all fours on the mat, and Marcus got behind him immediately. Marcus massaged Hayden’s fat ass cheeks, making him moan. Then, Marcus rubbed his 10-inch-long dick against Hayden’s ass, sending shivers down Hayden’s spine.

“Go ahead. Don’t hesitate,” Hayden said, pushing his hips backward and making Marcus smile.

Following Hayden’s instructions, Marcus buried his dick into his teammate’s hole, enjoying the animalistic sounds that escaped his lips. Marcus pushed his entire 10 inches of dick into Hayden in one swift move, loving how the younger guy’s plump ass felt against his body. Marcus leaned forward and covered Hayden’s body with his. Then, his hips started bucking, slowly but hard, and Hayden’s moans grew louder.

“Told… you. We’re... working the... hips,” Hayden managed to say as Marcus sped up his pace, not letting him form words.

“I’ve dreamed about this ass of yours since the day we met, and it feels much better than I ever expected,” Marcus said, bucking his hips as hard and as fast as a jackhammer while Hayden moaned and gasped for air.

Hayden was so lost in pleasure that he didn’t notice his dick was leaking pre-cum onto the mat because he was more interested in the incredible sensation in his guts while Marcus’ pre-cum entered him, making him feel bloated even before the big guy started cumming. Everything about that moment felt incredible. Having Marcus’ body surrounding him felt fantastic; Marcus’ balls hitting his balls with each thrust was surreal, and the massive dick reaching so dick felt fantastic.

“Bro, I’m so close. I’m pulling out now,” Marcus said between groans as his balls prepared to send a big load into Hayden’s guts.

“Don’t. Finish inside, I don’t mind,” Hayden said, flexing his glutes to stroke Marcus’ dick and prevent it from moving out of his hole.

When Hayden flexed his glutes, Marcus moaned loudly, and a massive wave of cum flooded the young guy’s guts. Hayden moaned when he felt Marcus’ thick seed filling him up, resulting in his own dick shooting massive globs of cum onto the mat. Both guys were so high on pleasure while they both came that they didn’t notice they were making a mess.

Then, as Marcus stopped cumming, Hayden felt his abdomen tightening and feeling fuller than before. He groaned loudly and placed his right hand over his distended midsection, which started rounding out under his palm. Hayden moaned and groaned while his belly inched outward, further than a simple bloat. The expansion only lasted a few seconds, and the difference was subtle at first sight, but for Hayden, his belly felt very different. His once flat abdomen had thickened in the last two months and now had a curve that made Hayden smile.

“Are you okay?” Marcus asked while Hayden rubbed his abdomen, heavily panting.

“I am. You were incredible,” Hayden added, looking at the messy mat beneath them. “Sadly, we should clean this up before anyone finds us.”

“Oh, true,” Marcus said, pulling his dick out of Hayden’s hole with a loud pop. “Let me help you up, and I’ll clean this up,” Marcus said, offering his hand to a panting Hayden.

****

Hayden woke up feeling utterly drained the morning after his intense practice with Marcus, still only wearing a jockstrap. As the soft light of dawn entered through the thin curtains of his dorm room, he groggily turned over in bed, feeling his body protest with each movement. A wave of exhaustion washed over him as he rubbed his eyes and tried to shake off the lingering dizziness, but the room seemed to slightly spin as he sat up.

Memories of the previous night’s practice flooded his mind, and a small smile tugged at his lips as he recalled the incredible sensation of Marcus’ dick buried inside him. He absentmindedly placed his hand on his abdomen, feeling the slight bulge that felt more pronounced since Marcus’ cum filled his guts to the brim. His fingers traced the contours of his stomach, smiling as he realized that it was just a reminder of the incredible sex with Marcus.

“I don’t mind the little belly after such a good fuck,” Hayden said while caressing his abdomen.

Then, a sudden wave of nausea hit him like a freight train. His stomach churned violently, and Hayden barely had time to register the sensation before he had to jump out of bed and rush to the bathroom. Kneeling in front of the toilet, he retched several times before vomiting his dinner from the night before. He felt weaker every second, the cold sweat on his forehead making him shiver despite the room’s warmth.

Once he stopped throwing up, Hayden leaned against the bathroom wall, his mind racing with confusion and worry. He couldn’t get sick on the verge of an important championship. Hayden struggled to feel better, splashing cold water on his face and taking deep breaths to steady himself. However, even after he had regained composure, the dizziness lingered, a constant reminder that something was wrong.

Hayden continued with his routine between scheduled dual meets with other teams, and with some pills for nausea, he managed to win all his matches. He tried to hide his sickness from his teammates and the coach, but over the following weeks, his condition only worsened. Nausea became a near-constant companion, striking at the most inconvenient times and leaving him doubled over in pain. The pills helped, but the nausea never disappeared.

His appetite fluctuated wildly. He couldn’t stand the sight of food some days, while on others, he felt ravenous, devouring everything in sight. Despite his efforts to maintain his regular workout routine, he noticed that he was gaining weight at an alarming rate, which he attributed to his constant overeating or stress for finals. His entire body thickened, but most of the additional pounds settled around his midsection, adding to his growing sense of unease.

Once the duals ended by mid-December, knowing that he needed to be healthy for the championship before the New Year, Hayden finally decided to visit the campus health center. He felt apprehension and hope as he walked into the doctor’s office. A nurse ran a quick examination, asking him about the symptoms. Hayden’s anxiety worsened when the doctor came a few minutes later and referred him to another doctor outside of campus because they thought he needed further examinations.

Hayden made an appointment for December 23rd, the day he was supposed to leave campus to spend the holidays with his parents. The second doctor asked even more questions, and the examinations were more extensive, including weighing him. Hayden sighed when the nurse read the numbers on the scale: 218.3 pounds. Almost 20 pounds in less than three months didn’t sound like a lot, but it was unusual since Hayden exercised constantly.

“Good morning, Hayden. I’ve been reading your file, and your symptoms are somewhat strange,” the doctor kindly said as he sat behind his desk in front of Hayden. “You mentioned you feel tired and dizzy, and you’ve been vomiting a lot. Plus, you’ve gained weight—18 pounds. Correct?”

“Yeah. I’ve been feeling really sick lately,” Hayden responded.

“I see. When did you first notice the nausea and the fatigue?” the doctor asked.

“About two weeks ago. It started out of nowhere, and it’s been getting worse.” Hayden said, sighing deeply.

“Noted. The nurse asked you about your diet, exercise routine, and any recent changes in your lifestyle, and I understand you started college a few months ago,” the doctor continued reading through Hayden’s file.

“I did, back in September. I’m part of the wrestling team, so I can’t allow myself to be sick for long,” Hayden said, sighing again.

“I understand that, and considering all the information you provided, I have some theories, and they’re all related to your stomachs or intestines, so I’d like to run a sonogram to get a clearer picture of what’s happening,” the doctor said, and Hayden only nodded.

Hayden lay back on an examination table a few minutes later, with his shirt rolled up to his pecs. The doctor prepared the sonogram machine, applying a cool gel to Hayden’s abdomen before pressing the transducer against his skin. The doctor inspected the area around Hayen’s stomach and didn’t find anything wrong. Moving lower, he checked on other vital organs, all seemingly healthy. Then he pulled down the waistband of Hayden’s sweatpants to check on his lower abdomen, his eyes widening in shock as he studied the screen.

“This is… highly unusual,” the doctor said, his professional composure slipping momentarily.

“What? What is it? Am I dying?” Hayden’s voice quivered with fear, his heart pounding in his chest.

The doctor didn’t respond immediately, and Hayden’s anxiety skyrocketed. “Hayden, calm down. I don’t think you’re dying. I would say it’s the opposite.” The doctor was evidently shocked and concerned. “Hayden. It appears that you’re pregnant. I have to double-check, but here you have a womb, and inside that womb, I see six fetuses.”

“A WHAT AND SIX WHAT?!” Hayden shouted, struggling to comprehend the impossible reality. “I’m a man; I can show you! I can’t be pregnant.”

“I know you’re a man; you don’t have to show me. I can tell. And yes, men can’t get pregnant, but you are pregnant. You have six fetuses developing in your womb. You obviously have options since this is unprecedented. However, I’ll need to monitor your condition very closely. Whether you decide to continue with the pregnancy or not,” the doctor said, turning the screen for Hayden to see the tiny shapes of his unborn children.

“What? You mean, an abortion?” Hayden said, evidently confused. “NO! Of course not! But… I can’t be pregnant. I’m a wrestler. What am I going to tell the coach? What am I going to tell my parents?”

Hayden had more questions than answers as he left the doctor’s office. He couldn’t help but think about his wrestling career and how mad his parents would get. Hayden was confused. He stood outside of the clinic and placed his hands on his small belly, realizing that those six kids were the results of his wild sex with James the day they met. He didn’t know how to deal with a pregnancy, and he feared his belly getting even bigger because he would have even more trouble finding clothes to wear, but at the same time, Hayden couldn’t help but smile at the thought that he was carrying James’ babies inside him.

“I guess we’ll have a New Year’s surprise for your dad when we see him during the championship in a few days,” Hayden said with a broad smile, talking to the babies as he thought about telling James the truth about the six little wrestlers they had created.

...

#mpreg #mpreg story

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eggrollforyou · 2 days ago

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How Can I Say I Love You Part 2

Law x F!Reader

WC: 4191

CW: angst to fluff, parental/parental figure loss, tooth aching fluff, minor Law backstory spoilers (if you're not caught up through Dressrosa), seems like an OC but I'm too lazy for that, so leader insert 🤣, mutual pining, post time skip

A/N: Thank you all for patiently waiting for part 2! I'm not super confident on part 2 so feedback would be wonderful!! I hope you enjoy!

Part One

He's chasing after you, running through the thick tropical forest, dodging fallen trees and cutting through vines getting in his way from catching up to you. “Y/N! Wait! I have a safe place to hideout!” he calls out to you hoping to get you to finally stop. You slow down to a jog, breathing heavily, “Well, why the fuck didn't you say that sooner, Law?” you grin at him. “I'll follow you,” you huff. He quickly leads you back toward the shore line, you hear the waves crashing and smell the sea air. Suddenly he stops and puts his hand out. You look at him curiously and he smirks at you, ��Room….” You begin to question him, “What are y-”

“Shambles.”

Suddenly you're in a room with metal walls and it takes you a moment to get your bearings. “Whoa…Law, what the fuck was that?” you ask as you set the heaping bag of stolen goods down on the floor with a loud thud.

“Still causing mischief, I see,” he chuckles. “Don't worry, we're safe. You're on my ship.”

“Ship?!”

“The Polar Tang. I'm the Captain of the Heart Pirates, you haven't seen our bounty posters?” he brags, cheeks slightly turning pink as he realizes what he's doing. “Well, look at you,” you beam at him. “Give me a tour!” you practically yell as you lunge forward bringing him into a big hug. You don't see it, but Law’s face and ears are pink at your show of affection. He reaches his arms around you to return the hug, hesitantly, processing as if this were real. He relishes in the smell of you, you smell like the sea with a hint of coconut and amber and his heart swells for a moment. His feelings for you rushing back like a tsunami, like they were a book tucked away on a dusty shelf in the back of a library to be pulled out again. He clears his throat and pulls back quickly, fearing you'll see how he feels for you, even after all these years. “C’mon, I'll show you around,” his voice suddenly stern and serious.

Law gives you a tour of the submarine and as he goes into the most boring explanation of what it takes to operate one, you get lost in your thoughts. He's here, in front of me again. Your heart skips a beat. You were never able to muster the courage to express your feelings for him. He was always brilliant, you knew he'd be able to make it as a pirate and here he was, Captain (and a doctor) to a crew that you could tell he loved, despite his seriousness. The Surgeon of Death. But you still saw the young man that you fell for years ago. Always ready for an adventure, ready for a fight. But he was always softer with you, late at night as you both pointed out constellations to each other, watching for shooting stars. Seeing the universe reflected in his eyes. You snapped out of it when you heard him say they were leaving in the morning. “You're leaving?” He nods. “Um…I have a huge favor to ask, could I hitch a ride to your next stop? Clearly I've exhausted what I could here…” you chuckle as you wring your fingers together nervously. “I won't be a lout, I promise, I'll take on whatever duties I need to earn my keep,” you rattle quickly.

How could Law ever tell you no? His heart is practically jumping out of his chest, but he has to keep himself in check. Clearing his throat again, “H-how about you just stay with us for a while… A-as long as you need.” he asks nervously, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck. “Are you sure?,” he nods,”Thank you, Law! I promise, I won't cause any trouble,” quick to accept before he changes his mind. He smiles warmly at you, “Yea, I’m sure. Let me take you to your quarters.” He shows you where you'll be staying, “Well, I guess this is where I'll leave you. Get some rest. I have a lot of work to do, so I'll be in my office. I'll introduce you to the crew when they return.”

“Thank you, Law. Really….it…it's really nice to see you again,” you say quietly. He nods at you, “It's good to see you too,” and he turns around and walks down the hall to go back to his office. You flop yourself down on the small bed, finally able to take a breath. How in the world does this keep happening? Maybe I should tell him? Your heart aches slightly. What would that accomplish? I'm not staying forever….maybe I should just keep my mouth shut. Back in his office Law contemplates the same quandary. I should tell her….at least it'll help with the regret….oh, who am I fucking kidding?! What does it matter, she's not staying forever…. It's pointless. I shouldn't say anything. He shakes his head at his resolution, but part of him can’t quell the excitement of you being around for just a bit longer. Looking over at his piles of paperwork he takes a deep sigh and pulls a stack in front of him, grabbing the papers on the top.

Later that evening the entire crew returned to the ship. You giddily greet Bepo, jumping into the big ball of fluff in a warm embrace, “Y/N!!!! Garchu!” he yells as he nuzzles his soft face onto yours, nearly smothering you as you laugh. You give Penguin and Shachi a hug as well. They're still the same silly group you remember fondly. Everyone on the ship is very welcoming, but as soon as Law walks into the galley, their demeanor shifts. They quieten down from their raucous conversations as he looks over the crew giving them a nod. Shachi and Penguin loudly shout, “Captain! Look! It's Y/N,” as they wiggle their eyebrows with sly grins on their faces- as if they didn't know he was the one that brought you on board. He gives them a stern look, trying to hide his mortification. He always tried to hide the depth of his feelings about you but they knew him better than that.

They constantly teased him, “When are you gonna tell her you like her?!”

“You never know, she might like you too.”

“Don't be a baby!”

He clears his throat, and in a commanding voice you weren’t used to hearing coming out of Law, “Everyone. We have a guest,” he motions to your direction, “Y/N. She'll be with us for a while. I've added her to rotations. The revisions are posted. I expect you all to continue to meet your duties and I expect you all to train her and get her up to speed for the next few weeks.”

“Yes, Captain,” everyone agrees.

This version of Law looks good on him, you think. And suddenly, you find yourself pining after him again like when you were 15. You fight the blush creeping up your chest and your cheeks. Instead, you distract yourself joking with your old friends through the remainder of dinner.

Weeks have passed and you've found your rhythm on the ship. In the time you've spent here, you've noticed that Law has grown up to be much more serious. He doesn't joke around much anymore and he's often brooding in his office. Well, you think he's brooding. You don't really know what he does in there, but he spends a lot of time in it. One day you decide to find out, walking up to his door when you were off duty, knocking gently. “Come in,” he calls out. You slowly open the door and poke your head in, “Hi! Just wanted to stop by and see how you were doing. You’ve been locked away in here for days and the smell is starting to seep out into the halls.” Law’s eyes grow wide as he tries to nonchalantly hide smelling himself by faking a stretch. You giggle at his reaction and his gaze instantly softens a bit, “O-Oh….yea, I’m good. Just reading,” as he holds up the most recent medical textbook he's drowned himself in.

You walk in, making your way to his desk, peering over all the scattered reports and journals, “Hmmm..boring! Do you have anything GOOD to read?” you joke. He peers over to his bookshelf, “Not much, I don’t get a lot of time for recreational reading but I have stuff on that shelf. You’re welcome to read anything there….just, don’t let it leave the office please.” You look over the various books, some science fiction, Hmm, never thought he’d be into science fiction, until you see a smaller set, Sora comics. You remember him going on and on about these comics when he was younger. “You still have these?” you snort pulling a few copies out. Law glances over to see what you’re holding. “Well…yea. Those are awesome…just please, be careful with them. They’re hard to come by outside of the North Blue,” he warns. You hum in agreement as you sit down in the chair he has by the bookshelf, “Do you mind?” You ask as you peer over the top of the comic. Law nods, “Go for it.” You both sit in the quiet room, the only discernible sounds are each of you turning pages as you read. It's a quiet comfort. One that turns into a routine after a few weeks. You find yourself more in his office than your own room to relax. He's set up a small corner for you, moving the spare chair over to make space for a small end table. Letting you keep a blanket on the chair.

Sometimes when neither of you can focus, you simply chat with a warm drink. There's always a chill in the air being in the submarine, despite the close quarters. But you find comfort in your blanket and with Law's company. Over the weeks, the crew have noticed a change in Law’s behavior. He's less…harsh. He seems happier, despite being as quiet as he usually is. It's a welcome change.

With all the time you've spent together, you're in Law’s thoughts even more. He wishes he had the courage to say those three little words, but the thought terrifies him. He didn't want the target on his head to shift to yours by mere association. He wouldn't be able to forgive himself if something happened to you.

One evening, you were both in his office. Reading, as usual. You made a habit to start buying a few books at every island stop. Adding to Law’s library. You picked up a few books, some silly new romance series the shopkeeper recommended. Maybe it was the book giving you the courage, but you felt like you couldn't hold your feelings back anymore. You peeked over at him, watching him intently as he was lost in his own reading. You loved the way his nose crinkled a little bit when he was reading something that really caught his attention, the way his tongue poked the inside of his cheek, deep in concentration. His raven locks, ruffled and messy from him taking off his hat.

Your heart fluttered thinking about his hands, how warm they must be. What they would feel like with his fingers intertwined with yours. Suddenly, you break the silence, “Law…” he peers over at you. “Hmm?” He hums. “Have you…have you had any…. romantic interests?” you ask before you realize what you're saying. Your face suddenly dusted with pink, hoping he can't see your blush in the dim ambient light. Law’s eyes grow wide in surprise, he opens his mouth and closes it again, unsure what to say. He shifts, sitting straight up, “Um…no, not really...there was someone, but….nothing ever happened. Nothing..COULD happen,” he grows quiet. Hoping to keep his answers vague and short so you wouldn't press. “Mmmm,” you ponder. Could he be talking about me? Sure, our time together was short, but everything with him feels so…right. Like this is all second nature…he feels like…home. Law quickly returns his gaze to his book. He was dying to ask you the same but he didn't want to step further into the territory. “Have you ever thought about….us?” you ask pensively, staring in his direction, afraid to make eye contact. Suddenly, Law coughs, “N-no….I, uh, I think I should get to bed. Long day tomorrow,” he gets up quickly. “Stay as long as you'd like,” he grumbles as he hurriedly walks out of the office heading straight to his quarters. You're left dumbfounded in the office. Unsure what happened and unable to collect your thoughts about it. You thought you read him correctly, you thought he liked you and enjoyed your company as much as you enjoyed his. You stand up, fighting hot tears threatening to spill from your eyes. Walking back to your room, completely dejected.

At lunch a few days later, Shachi and Penguin sit down next to you, as you pick at your food, unable to scrounge up much of an appetite. “Y/N, what's up? You seem….upset,” Shachi asks. it startles you out of your thoughts, “OH! It's….nothing. Probably just need some sunshine. Still not used to living in a submarine,” you force a chuckle. They look at each other with a knowing glance but quickly return to looking at you before you notice. “Yeah, it can take some getting used to, but we've only got a few more days left until our next stop, so you'll have the ground beneath your feet soon enough,” Penguin adds. You sigh, “Yeah, I'm sure some sunshine will fix me right up,” forcing a half smile.

You just wanted to sit and chat with Law but it seemed like he was avoiding you since that night in his office. You wanted to crack a joke and see his smile. He seemed so easily flustered now, you wanted to mess with him, make him laugh. He's changed a lot, you think. I just gotta make it through another few days and I can figure out what I'm doing next. I always thought he might've liked me, but obviously things have changed. We were so young… Maybe my time here is coming to an end. I should think about getting off at the next stop.

Later that evening, it's long after dinner, and you're finally off duty. Sitting in the galley again, playing cards and drinking games with Ikkaku, Shachi, and Penguin. Suddenly, Law comes in to grab a snack and water, taking a break from reading his medical journals. “C’mon! Captain! Take a break with us,” Shachi calls over. Your shoulders tighten and you freeze. You look over and see Law. He makes eye contact with you but quickly breaks it, swallowing the bite of rice ball he was chewing on, “I've got papers t-” he gets cut off by Shachi, “Aw, don't say that. Just a couple games and one drink, Captain, and we'll leave you alone.” You stare, wide-eyed, holding your breath as the rest of the group plead with him. He sighs in defeat, “Okay. Okay.. Just a little bit, and only to shut you up,” he puts his hands up in fake surrender. You let out the breath you didn't realize you were holding when he sits down at the table, giving him a shy but sad smile when he looks at you again.

As the night goes on, you continue your drinking and card games. It's been several games and drinks but Law is enjoying the break and decides his work can wait a little longer. He relaxes as the alcohol works its way into his system. Before long, it's late into the night. Shachi and Penguin are passed out on the table, Ikkaku has gone to bed, and it's just you and Law. You aren't even sure what card game you're playing anymore, well into the tipsy territory after your 5 beers. “So, what are your plans when your time with us is done?” Law asks quietly, trying to hide how his heart hurts at the thought. “Um…y’know, I'm not sure. I haven't really gotten that far yet. I just kind of island-hop where I can. I can't really make a ‘normal’ job work. I mean..especially with what I've had to do to make ends meet,” you chuckle. “Yeah…being a wanted thief will put a damper on that,” Law laughs. You suck your teeth, “Tch, yeah, I suppose. But I'm a really good shot, so I pick up odd jobs with other miscreants where I can,” you wink. Your first real smile in days. Law’s heartstrings tug at that smile. He's stolen glances of you around the ship. You've not had a real smile since that night, he can tell they're forced and part of him feels guilty. He's wanted nothing more than to be with you the entire time you've been on the ship. Hug you close, run his hands through your hair, kiss you….tell you how much you meant to him. Should I ask her to join the crew? Should I just tell her how I feel? He thinks about what it would be like to climb into bed with you, pull you into his chest and wake up to your beautiful smile first thing in the morning but suddenly he's snapped from his thoughts as he feels your hand on top of his, not realizing you asked him a question. “Law, you ok?” You ask. “Sorry, I must be tired, what did you say?”

“What are your plans? I mean, you've got being a pirate down, clearly, but do you have a goal in mind?” The warmth from your hand radiates into his and spreads through his body. Suddenly he feels flushed. “I…uh..I have a plan in the works. First, it's gotta start with becoming a Warlord,” he says quickly, snapping himself out of his daydream. “Oh? Warlord, huh? That sounds….dubious, but I'm sure you could pull it off. You've got a great crew, and your devil fruit powers are pretty formidable, I'm sure you'll get there,” you give him a cheeky grin, bumping your shoulder into his, completely forgetting how you scared him off before.

Your actions of getting close to him are bolder, the alcohol leaving all your inhibitions behind. “I look forward to reading about your adventures in the paper, now that I know to look out for the Heart Pirates and their handsome Captain,” your voice practically a whisper. Law's eyes go wide, Did she just say handsome?! You lean forward, steeling your resolve to just kiss him. You're so close to each other, you can feel each other's breath and suddenly, Law coughs, sitting up quickly, “I, uh, I gotta go. Papers to read…reports…goodnight,” he says tight lipped and he's gone before you can blink twice. You're left sitting at the table, heart cracked and slowly bleeding. Fighting the burning tears building up in your eyes, you take a deep breath and wake up Shachi and Penguin, “Get to bed boys, it's late,” as you get up to go to bed.

Once you make it to your bed, you try to find some comfort and shed your tears into your pillow until sleep takes you. Law stands quietly outside your room with his finger about to tap on your door until he hears you. Heart aching as he hears your sobs and he quietly retreats. You fucking idiot.

Law spends the next few days absolutely avoiding you, you decide. He’s shifted his meal times to eat before the rest of the crew or when he couldn’t swing that, he would eat in his office. When he sees you on the ship, walking toward each other, he immediately veers off or turns around. It hurts you every time and it kills Law every time he sees your face fall because he’s the cause of your pain. And you continued to blame your woeful demeanor on the lack of sunlight. No one bought it but they all kept their comments to themselves. Except for Shachi and Penguin who would occasionally throw a jab at Law wondering if he was EVER going to tell you how he really felt. This is for the best. It’s best for her, it’ll keep her safe. The ship was fast approaching the next island stop to restock. You were spending your last few hours being with your friends, new and old, heart already aching because you would be leaving them, unsure when you’d see them again. When the ship docked, you left with the crew, bag hoisted over your shoulder to head into town. Law looked at you with forlorn eyes, “Are you- are you leaving?” You return his same sad gaze, “Uh, yeah, sorry. I meant to tell you sooner but I couldn't ever pin you down. But I'll be happy to help with this last restock. I'm going with Ikkaku,” as you point to the island. You couldn’t bear to leave just yet.

You checked into the Inn and deposited your bag, heading back out with Ikkaku to run your final errands with this rag tag group of pirates that you’ve come to love in your time with them.

“Captain, you’ve GOTTA tell her. This is like the universe screaming at you! You can’t NOT listen to the universe…”Penguin jabs at Law, Shachi standing next to him, arms crossed. They’re both clearly fed up with Law’s inability to deal with his emotions. After all, you were their friend too. Bepo walks up, “Huh? What’s going on guys?”

“We’re trying to convince the Captain to pull his head out of his ass and tell Y/N how he feels,” Shachi tells Bepo. “Oooooh, yea! Captain, PLEASE, ask her to stay! She’s been a great part of the crew,” he practically yells, unable to contain his excitement at the prospect of you staying. Law crosses his arms, “Will you three knock it off?! It’s not that easy…..I mean…she probably wants nothing to do with me at this point. I…I don’t know how to fix this, and she’ll be better off without. She gets into enough trouble on her own as it is, the last thing she needs is my target on her back as well,” he argues. “She can take care of herself, Captain. Why don't you let her make that decision for herself?” Shachi quips back with Penguin nodding in agreement. Law sighs. Ok. Fine. They're right, I have to tell her.

You were making your way back to the ship after a couple hours running errands with Ikkaku. The closer you got, the harder it was. It meant that you would be walking away from something you grew to cherish so much. All those nights you spent finding your thoughts drifting to Law when you laid out underneath the star lit sky when you were alone, and you managed to find him again, only to leave. It made your body heavy, your chest hurt, feeling like your heart was wrenching. You took in a deep breath. Readying yourself for the goodbye you felt you were forced to make but didn't want to. I never got to say goodbye the last two times. Maybe I can find some closure with a goodbye on my own terms. You set the bags down with Ikkaku on the deck, others ready to grab it, taking them down into the bowels of the ship. Law walks over and clears his throat quietly. Ikkaku looks up, “Oh, hi Captain, I'll, uh, leave you two alone,” she walks off. It's the quietest you've ever seen her. She looks at you with a somber gaze and a half smile. You pull a hand out from behind your back, giving a small wave.

“Look, Law, it's ok, you don't have to-”

“Y/N,” he sighs, collecting his thoughts, trying to calm his nerves. “I-I….love you. Please…please don't leave. I'm sorry I'm such an idiot…. I've always loved you. I-” you cut him off, jumping onto him. Pressing your lips to his in a fervent kiss. He grabs your body tightly, holding it to him, not leaving any space between you. As you wrap your legs around him, gripping your arms tightly over his shoulders, around his neck. He returns your kiss, pouring all of the feelings he tried to hide away into it. You pull away to breathe, resting your forehead on his as you try to catch your breath. “I love you too, Law.” He presses a long kiss, closing his eyes, to your forehead. “Don't leave, join my crew. Be with me, please. I never stopped thinking about you all these years. Let me show you how much I love you. I'll spend the rest of my days making up for lost time,” he pleads. “I thought you'd never ask,” you smile as he carries you into the ship.

Tags: @shy-writer-999 @dreamcastgirl99

Dividers by @cafekitsune

#one piece #one piece fluff #law fluff #trafalgar d law #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law #trafalgar op #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar x y/n #trafalgar law x y/n #trafalgar law x you #law x y/n

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sequinsmile-x · 2 days ago

Note

would like to suggest a hotchniss christmas fic that's basically the song "i saw mommy kissing santa claus"

omg YES. YES.

Here you go bestie xo

-x-

I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus

Evie Hotchner sees something on Christmas Eve that she doesn't think she should have seen.

AKA - the one in which I've written exactly what you think I've written.

-x-

Warnings: None

Words: 2.1k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

“You excited for tomorrow, Mommy?”

Emily smiles and puts the book she’d been holding down on her lap as she turns to her daughter, “I am, baby. I love Christmas.”

Evie’s smile gets wider, the three year old no closer to sleep than she was when she’d brought her up to bed 40 minutes ago, “Me too!! Lots of presents.”

“Lots of presents,” Emily chuckles and kisses her forehead, thinking of all the gifts hidden in the attic that she’d promised to help her husband with once the kids were in bed.

“And it’s Zaccy’s first Christmas,” she says, her eyebrows furrowing, the serious look that she’d inherited from Aaron spreading across her face, “Will Santa know about him?”

Emily runs her fingers through her hair, an old trick that had helped to send her to sleep since she was a baby, and she tugs Evie closer, the love she had for her little brother enough to make Emily want to cry.

When she was first pregnant with Issac, she’d worried about Evie’s reaction to becoming a big sister. Since she was a tiny newborn, she’d always been all about Emily, desperate for her mother’s affection and attention at any given moment. It had made those early days long, when she’d refuse to settle for Aaron - something that Emily knew upset him - and she’d sit up in bed with Evie asleep on her chest because it was the only place she’d sleep for longer than 10 minutes. When they brought Issac home, the final missing piece to their family, and Evie was complacent about him at best, Aaron assured Emily that their little girl would be fine, that there would be an adjustment period for all of them, but that she loved her little brother even if she didn’t know it yet.

He was right, just like he was more often than Emily would care to admit, and Evie was obsessed with her little brother now. Sometimes they’d find her asleep on his bedroom floor, curled under her bedding that she’d pulled in after her with her favourite stuffed animal in her arms.

“Yes,” she says, kissing her forehead again, “Santa knows about Zaccy, don’t worry,” she smiles as she thinks of the 6-month-old sleeping in the next room, “And remember what we said - he’s small so he doesn’t understand it all yet.”

“It okay, I open his presents.”

She chuckles, “Okay, sweet girl, you need to go to sleep.”

Evie sighs like she has the weight of the world on her shoulders, “I’m too excited to sleep.”

She hums and continues to run her fingers through her hair, smiling to herself as she tells her daughter the only white lie she’d ever tell her, “But Santa won’t come if you don’t sleep.”

Evie’s eyes go wide before she squeezes them shut, her grip on Emily’s shirt getting tighter, “I go to sleep now.”

Emily kisses the top of her head and picks the book back up, holding it with one hand whilst the other still plays with her little girl’s hair as she reads to her. She slowly feels Evie get heavier as she falls asleep, her grip on her shirt loosening just as Emily finishes the book. She sneaks out from under Evie and tucks the covers around her, dropping a kiss against her temple before she slips out of the room, making sure she’s quiet as she pulls the door closed behind her. She checks on Issac and Jack, relieved to find them both asleep, and heads downstairs.

She smiles when she walks into the living room to find the presents all gathered around the tree already, toys and books she’d spent weeks agonising over all wrapped up and ready for her three kids to tear into them all in seconds. She sometimes had to pinch herself when she thought about the fact that this was her life. She had a family of her own, one she’d built together with the love of her life, and she was able to give her children the Christmases she’d always wanted when she was a kid herself.

Aaron would always gently make fun of her and her love of the holidays, his smile wide and full of love as he patiently stood next to her as she picked out decorations and sparkling lights. It never went further than a playful comment or a raised eyebrow because he knew how important it was to her.

She hears his footsteps behind her, and she turns, “Sorry, honey, I would have helped but Evie…” she trails off when she sees him, her words turning into a laugh as she’s met with the sight of him in the Santa Claus outfit they’d bought and hidden with all the gifts. He’d insisted on it, his eyes full of excitement as he said he’d surprise the kids with it, something she knew was his own attempt to give them what he’d never had, “Why are you wearing that?”

He shrugs and pulls the fake beard down, “I wanted to check that it fits,” he asks, and she watches as he turns as if he’s trying out a new suit for work, “What do you think?”

She hums, love for him thrumming under her skin, “It looks good.”

He chuckles and raises an eyebrow at her, “Santa? Really?”

She rolls her eyes and slaps his shoulder lightly, smiling when he captures her hand and kisses her knuckles, “No,” she exclaims, her nose scrunched up with disgust, “Not like that.”

Aaron leans in to kiss her, “I know that look, Issac exists because of that look.”

She shakes her head at him and wraps her arms around his neck, her fingers curled around the bobble on the end of his Santa hat, “It’s not the Santa suit,” she says, stamping her lips against his, “It’s you being such a good Dad.”

He hums against her lips, “Love you.”

She pulls back just enough to speak, her lips skimming his as her breath skips across his face, “I love you too.”

She kisses him again, and they get lost in each other, both of them too distracted to hear a quiet gasp from the doorway followed by their little girl's footsteps on the hardwood floor as she runs back upstairs to her bedroom.

Emily wakes up at the sound of a bedroom door opening down the hall, closely followed by thundering footsteps.

“Incoming,” Aaron says from behind her, his voice rough from sleep and misuse as he encourages her closer with the arm thrown over her waist. She has just enough to turn and kiss him before the door opens, Evie and Jack speaking in unison from the doorway, Issac smiling widely in Jack’s arms, his tiny hands already reaching out for his mom.

“Merry Christmas!”

Emily and Aaron both sit up as they smile at their children, beckoning them over to the bed as Aaron switches on the lamp on his nightstand.

“Merry Christmas,” Emily says as she opens her arms up to take Issac from Jack. She kisses the baby’s cheek several times in a row, “It’s your first Christmas, sweet boy,” she kisses his cheek again, “Are you excited?”

“He was already awake when we went into his room,” Jack says as he settles on the bed in between his parents, “He was just sitting there like he was waiting.”

“Were you waiting for your brother and sister?” She smiles as she settles Issac into her lap, “My patient little guy.” Issac was Aaron all the way through, his quietness in comparison to his older sister already pronounced at only 6-months-old. Emily had lost sleep in the early weeks of his life for an entirely different reason to Evie’s, so used to how her little girl had cried for hours at a time that she was convinced something was wrong with her newborn son. She turns to look at Evie who was sitting in Aaron’s lap, her attention focused on a loose thread on the hem of his t-shirt, “Are you okay, sweet girl?”

Evie shrugs and doesn’t look up at her, and Emily and Aaron exchange a concerned look. He adjusts his hold on the toddler so she’s looking at him.

“Do you want to go give Mommy a Christmas cuddle?” He asks, trying to pull a smile out of her by tickling her, and she shakes her head fiercely, holding on to him tightly.

“No,” she says, the tone in her voice cutting deeper than Emily thought possible as she looks up at her, “Mommy was naughty.”

Emily furrows her brow, the serious look on her little girl’s face a vice around her heart as she tries to figure out what she’d done wrong to upset her, “What do you mean, baby?”

Evie shakes her head again, “Can’t say.”

Aaron looks at Emily and doesn’t miss the hurt flashing across her face, and he knows he needs to fix whatever is going on before it ruins their first Christmas morning as a family of five, “Princess, you can tell us anything, you know that.”

The little girl sighs and looks up at her father, her lower lip sticking out as it wobbles ever so slightly, “Mommy kissed someone else,” she says, turning to look at Emily again, “I saw you kissing Santa.”

Any concern she’d had that she’d somehow upset her daughter without knowing how disappears in a second, replaced with amusement she has to swallow down. She keeps her eyes fixed on her daughter, knowing if she made eye contact with her husband she’d laugh, and that would only upset Evie more right now.

“Baby-”

“I saw you,” Evie says, her arms crossed over her chest, “Last night.”

Aaron tries this time, desperately trying to think of how he could explain this to his little girl without running Christmas for her, without shattering the illusion of Santa years before he’d hoped it would happen.

“That wasn’t the real Santa,” Jack cuts in, missing the look of panic in his parent's eyes as he tries to help.

“Jack-” Aaron warns, but Jack carries on undeterred. He’d mentioned this year that he knew Santa wasn’t real, which Emily knew Aaron found harder to accept than he’d anticipated. They’d sat him down and explained that it was important for his brother and sister to still believe it, and he’d nodded along, pleased to be in on the secret, his smile wide at Evie’s excitement when they’d gone to meet Santa in the mall a week ago.

“The real Santa is busy, right?” Jack says, cutting over Aaron. Evie nods in response and Jack carries on, “So he has Mommy’s and Daddy’s help out with putting out the presents - that was Daddy you saw Mommy kissing last night.”

Evie’s frown loosens a little, her eyes flicking back and forth between her parents, “Really?”

Emily looks at Aaron and he shrugs, both of them grateful that their eldest had come up with an answer when they hadn’t been able to, “Yeah,” she says, reaching out and tucking some of Evie’s hair behind her ear, “Really,” she looks up at her husband and winks, “Daddy’s the only person I want to kiss.”

Evie sighs in relief and finally slips into Emily’s lap, “Merry Christmas Mommy.”

She smiles and holds her close, one arm around her and the other around Issac and she drops kisses on top of both of their heads. She looks over at Aaron and Jack, both of them beaming at her, and she sighs contentedly, “Merry Christmas, baby.”

“Right,” Aaron says, throwing the covers off of his lap and standing up, “How about some Christmas pancakes?” Jack and Evie exclaim and scramble off the bed, both of them already in the hallway before he can call after them, “Jack, make sure your sister is careful on the stairs.”

“Yes, Dad!”

He turns and looks at Emily, his smile turning into a smirk as she stands up, Issac on her hip, “So-”

“Don’t even say anything,” she replies, raising her eyebrow at him, her cheeks warm with embarrassment, “I can’t believe she saw that,” she blows out a breath, “Thank fuck Jack can think on his feet. We’re going to have to be more careful next year.”

He hums and wraps his arm around her waist, tugging her close to kiss her temple, her cheek and then the corner of her lips, “We’ll keep the Santa kissing strictly to the bedroom.”

She rolls her eyes as she pulls away from him, “How many times do I have to say it was not the Santa costume I found attractive, but you being a good dad?”

He chuckles and wraps his arm around her shoulders, taking a moment to run his knuckles down Issac’s cheek before he starts to lead them out of the bedroom.

“I believe you, sweetheart,” he says, leaning in to kiss her cheek, “Thousands wouldn’t.”

#hotchniss fanfic #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfiction #emily prentiss fanfiction #hotchniss fanfiction #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #hotchniss fan fic #aaron x emily #hotchniss

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tmrwsuns · 2 days ago

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(❆⋆.˚) secret ingredient !

✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ [hirota riki x reader] ...୨♡୧... wc. 2.3k w. curse words! fluff ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ

maki was slightly upset.

well, slightly wasn’t the right word, but he would never admit how upset he was at the fact that his sister had somehow managed to be stuck in the middle of nowhere during christmas eve when they were supposed to carry out their tradition and make their infamous christmas cookies. had she no respect for the art of baking yummy cookies and decorating them like they were being judged by pierre hermé himself?

he scoffed as the thought crossed his head, his arms securely crossed against his chest as a sign of annoyance as he sat on his bed, a random show playing on his screen as he awaited for the only person who could cheer him up at the moment.

you.

maki believed you were some type of magical being, maybe an angel of some sorts. it was the only explanation his mortal little brain could come up with, really. there was nothing else that could make sense as to how much better he felt immediately after seeing you. no matter where he was, the cause of his annoyance of how upset he was, the moment you walked into the room everything banished. his world was suddenly tinted pink, he could only hear your voice and smell your exquisite cinnamon perfume that matched every single season of the year as if the world only changed in order to not be left behind by your constant, beautiful, evolution.

hell, even thinking about it had already made him feel better.

he hummed softly as he tried to erase the smile off of his lips, the image of your smile that wandered around his head almost making him forget why he was so upset in the first place. what was it about christmas cookies? oh, right! his stupid sister and her abandonment tendencies.

the boy tried to focus back on the show after checking the time on his phone for the eleventh time in the last five minutes as an excuse to look at the pretty picture of you that adorned his lockscreen. how much longer would it take you to get there? he was having withdrawals, and it was his fault for listening to you and not going to pick you up himself like he initially planned.

he should just text you, right? you always said you loved when he was clingy anyways.

just as he picked up his phone again, there was a knock on the door that could not be anyone by you. he stood up a little too fast than he should have, but still ran towards the door as fast as his socked feet allowed him too without slipping even if he was currently seeing colored dots in the air.

“hi babe” you laughed softly as his body practically slammed into yours, his arms enveloping you and pressing you to his chest in a bear hug. maki swore he could cry when his senses were filled with your scent and your hand tangled in his hair like it always did when he hugged you like that.

“hi, pretty” he smiled once he broke away from the hug, taking your face in his hands and peppering kisses all over, making sure not to leave a single centimetre unkissed.

“what’s up?” you asked after leaving a small peck on his lips, getting into the house and closing the door behind you. maki almost forgot to answer as he watched you slip off the various layers of clothing that were unnecessary in the heated ambiance of his apartment.

“my sister is still stuck, but outside of that everything is fine” he muttered, a lovesick smile on his face as he watched you.

“that sucks, i’m sorry” you sympathized as you took your hand up to his face to caress his cheek, feeling your heart melt at how adorable he was.

“it’s fine, i’m just annoyed that i can’t show you how good our christmas cookies are” he pouted, looking even more like a puppy than he always did.

“are you sure that’s what you’re upset about?” you asked, an endeared smile adorning your pretty lips.

“what else would it be?” he asked, genuinely confused as he furrowed his eyebrows.

“maybe, just perhaps, you’re upset because you might not spend christmas with your sister this year? you’ve never spent it without her and you have been missing her a lot, haven’t you?” you suggested, looking at him with that softness in your eyes that was characteristic of them when looking at your puppy like boyfriend.

maki thought your words over for a few seconds. you were right about him never spending christmas without his older sister before… also about missing her more lately….

“no, it’s about the cookies” he concluded, making you roll your eyes affectionately.

“you’re impossible” you commented, and he felt his heart race at the thought of being able to see the love your eyes harbored everytime they were looking at him.

“but you love me, don’t you?” he asked, even when he knew the answer.

“more than anything” you smiled and left a quick kiss on his cheek. “now, can we go watch a christmas movie? i’m thinking the grinch” you said after moving away from him and beginning to walk towards his bedroom.

maki stood there entranced by the way you walked around his house as if you owned it, as if it were your home, too. it made him think of the future, when his house would have you in it permanently and the aroma of cinnamon lingered naturally in every place you went, not only on the side of the bed you took every time you slept over.

he shook his head softly and followed you into his room, cooing at the sight of you already settled on his bed, remote in hand as you browsed through his tv.

“do i have to send you an invitation through mail or are you gonna join me already?” you asked as you raised your eyebrow, making the boy roll his eyes before jumping into the bed and tugging you close to his chest.

…

“no way you’re crying, we’ve watched that movie so many times” you laughed as maki wiped the tears that ran down his cheeks.

“it’s not my fault you’re heartless, you know” he complained, playfully pushing you from your shoulder, his strength making you fall on the bed with a laugh.

“aww, my baby is just sooo sensitive” you cooed teasingly while you moved up, grabbing his face and squeezing his cheeks together.

“you’re so annoying” he laughed affectionately as he let you squish him as you pleased.

“you love me” you smiled and kissed his nose “what do you want to do now, my love?”

maki thought about it for a few seconds, weighing his options in his head. “do you want to make cookies?”

you felt your heartstrings being pulled at the way his eyes softened slightly as he asked. maki was such a gentle soul, and even if he tried to mask it, the fact that his sister wasn’t there to continue their lifelong tradition was breaking his heart a little.

“of course” you smiled like what you hoped would be reassuring “i might not be as good as your sister, though”

“don’t even worry about that, i’m the secret to why our cookies are so good, she’s just there for moral support” he said cockily, making you roll your eyes humorously.

“sure, mister baker” you patted his head as you stood up, walking to the kitchen and knowing he would follow.

“i’m completely serious” he insisted, starting to prepare all the materials needed to bake as soon as he got to the kitchen. “the cookies would be nothing without me”

“whatever floats your boat, maki” you said, knowing that it annoyed him when you agreed with him like he was a little kid.

“whatever floats your boat, maki” he mimicked you with a stupidly high pitched voice and a silly tone, sticking his tongue out at you like the child he was.

“you’re so childish” you muttered, trying to bite back the smile that fought to take place on your lips.

“and what does that make you, huh?” he teased, looking at you with a raised eyebrow “i bet you didn’t think about that one”

you groaned lightly and decided to ignore him, partly because you had no comeback to that and partly because you were unable to act annoyed when even the slightest thing he did elicited a giant smile from your face.

“let’s start, do you have a recipe?” you asked as you tied your hair up to avoid its intrusion on your field of vision and possibly in the batter you were about to make. you were concentrated in your actions, which led you to miss the way maki looked at you, with a lovesick smile and shiny eyes.

“of course, first we need some flour…”

…

maybe baking wasn’t your strong suit as a couple.

you had never been very good at the art of baked goods. your skills were limited to measuring the ingredients and maybe cracking an egg that would most likely end up going into the mix with some eggshell along with it. your lack of talent was an issue for the given situation, but at least you had the decency to admit your own uselessness.

on the other hand, your boyfriend claimed he could make christmas cookies that would join armies, even without his sister being there to “aid him with the utensils”. there would be no issue with him recognizing his skill if he actually had one, but based on the current lack of perfectly shaped cookies and the dough that looked a little too gooey to be edible, maybe he was stretching it a little when he called himself a god.

“you have to trust the process, baby” he said, for what seemed to be the nine hundredth time in the past hour as he kneaded the slimy dough with his hands. “see, the flour is preventing it from sticking to my hands”

the flour wasn’t preventing jack shit, but who were you to tell him that?

“hmm, i see” you hummed as you watched the dough move along maki’s fingers as if it was store bought slime that had been overused. “and at what part does the dough actually form?”

maki glared at you playfully before sticking his tongue out to you, taking his hands out of the slimy mixture and heading straight for the sink to remove the rest of it off of his hands. “we just need to add more flour, that’s it” he assured.

once he finished with his hands he turned back around to face you, already aiming to try and salvage the cookies (along with his pride) when a splash of white powder landed on his chest.

“is that enough flour or should i add more?” you asked with a playful smile, and if maki wasn’t too thrown off by your action he would have probably taken his time to properly gush at how attractive you looked in that moment.

“no way you just did that” he breathed out, still shocked as he watched you with his mouth slightly agape.

“i’m sorry, mister baker, i misunderstood what you meant by putting more flour into the mixture” you played innocent, feeling way too smug at your own joke. if you hadn’t been so busy gloating, you would’ve predicted the fist full of flour that collided with your chest a few seconds later. “oh, you’re so on!” you exclaimed as you charged at your boyfriend at full strength, looking for things to throw at him without a single care in the world apart from beating him. the kitchen had already been a mess even before your little food fight had started, and the eggs and cocoa that began being thrown around didn’t help much either.

whatever, you would clean it up later.

…

“i’m sorry to say this, but those are the fugliest cookies i’ve ever seen in my life” you commented once maki had taken the batch out of the oven.

you both stood in front of it, staring wordlessly at the deformed, broken and slightly burnt cookies that rested on the pan.

“there is no way we did that bad” maki muttered, more to himself than to you as he reflected on what went wrong in the process. he had followed every single rule and instruction perfectly like he had done for years on end, and there wasn’t a single batch that ever end up like this one.

“i’m sorry to break it to you, but we did do that bad” you chuckled softly.

“maybe the decorations can salvage it?” the boy asked, pointing at the many different candies that stood waiting on the counter to be used as christmas decoration.

“i don’t think anything can salvage them at this point” you defended, your nose furrowed at the smell of the burnt cookies.

maki sighed in defeat when he heard your words. he knew there was nothing left to do, and now he had to accept that he was not in fact the secret master of the recipe.

“i´m sorry we couldn’t get them to be perfect." you mumbled, getting closer to him and hugging his torso.

“there’s nothing to say sorry about, baby” he smiled and hugged you by your shoulders, not caring how dirty your clothes were because of the earlier incident, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. “now we know baking isn’t our forte” he chuckled and leaned down to steal a quick peck from your lips.

“definitely not, imagine if we had agreed to do the stupid gingerbread house competition…” you giggled as you left a kiss on his shoulder, making maki laugh softly and shook his head.

that’s a disaster waiting to happen.

★ blue's corner ;; my first ever andteam work ! i know many people follow me for xikers content and i promise i will keep it coming but still, the andteam boys deserve it too. this is a part of the love actually series that i'm doing with both my blogs, so be sure to check it out ! ★ taglist ;; @tiramisumin @astrasng @chiiyuuvv @nicholasluvbot ★ back to the masterlist. ★ please do not copy, adapt or steal any of the content !!! ★ divider by @fairytopea

#maki #hirota riki #maki x reader #andteam maki #i love him #andteam #andteam drabbles #andteam x reader #maki drabbles #✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ tmrwsunswrld #✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ andteam #✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ maki

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