Family
》 Omegaverse Collab
Word Count: 1.7K
Pairing: Sano Manjiro x Reader
Warning(s): Pregnancy. Parenthood. Emotional Reader.
Authors Note: I was gonna do smut but then I got soft again. Whoops. 😅
Mikey knows you.
He knows you so deeply that you may as well be a part of him-- he’s memorized the feel of your lips against his and the taste of your laughter. Your touch has always given him chills he’s never bothered to deny, even as rambunctious teenagers with nothing but time to kill. His mark has been embedded in your skin since you were sixteen, a fluke of his own making during his first rut. Despite the bumpy start, the two of you have been inseparable ever since.
So he knows when something changes in you.
There's an anxious energy clinging to you as you pace the empty spare bedroom, eyes narrowed on each wall as though they have offended you personally. You have a bucket of green paint sitting at your feet and furniture drug out from the walls, and he briefly considers why you’d decided today was the day you’d get around to sorting out this room. The consideration doesn't last long when your frustrated gaze pins on him in the doorway, lips pursed.
“I don’t like this color anymore.” He realizes that one wall is already sage green -- and knows immediately it’s too dark for your tastes -- and bites back a grin. Your scent is fluctuating in warning, sending every sense he has into overdrive. It doesn't quite fit your typical heat, but its definitely trying to tell him something.
“Maybe we can use it as an accent wall?” Mikey offers, watching you scowl at the offending color again, arms folding below your breasts. The button up you’re wearing is one of his old ones, and it’s stretching unusually across your breasts, exposing the wire of your bra just enough to catch his eye.
“You’re not even listening.” You blurt out, noticing his gaze, and he’s startled when you storm past him, huffing softly.
What the fuck?
* * *
Your nest is a mess. The pile of assorted soft things and clothing is usually organized and tidy, but for whatever reason you’ve torn it completely apart and he's not entirely sure what to do about it.
Apparently, you were no longer content with the way it was smelling, because you’ve been making piles to wash for the last twenty minutes while he tries to help you sort. Key word being tries, because you turn and snarl at him every time he grabs something.
“Love--” A throw pillow pegs him in the chest as you glare and Mikey once again wonders what the deal is. You’ve been almost inconsolable as you try and fail to organize the house to whatever exact specifications you have in mind, and he’s just about fed up with it.
His patience has thinned to disturbing degrees, but he’s trying to be understanding. Your heat should be coming up, after all. He’s decided that has to be the scent, despite the strange undertones to it. Maybe it’s just going to be a particularly potent one.
“Nothing is right!” You finally bark out, sniffling softly when he narrows his eyes on you. It startles him to hear you use that tone, but he doesn't push you.
After a long moment you seem to get ahold of yourself and return to sifting through the remains of your nest. Setting aside the pillow, he decides he's better off taking the things you don't want to wash. Mikey gets the good soap down from the cabinets -- the one you use specifically for your heat, since it wipes smells completely -- and dumps it into the machine with a sigh.
Running long fingers through his hair, he steps back out to the hallway and finds you still grumbling to yourself, now having removed everything that didnt pass your examination. He decides you don’t need his help when you start throwing his pillows after a quick sniff.
* * *
“Dude, she’s pregnant.” Draken snickers, and Mikey almost chokes on his whiskey.
“What?!” Baji is also chuckling as the blond laments your odd behavior. It’s not as if the thought hadn't crossed his mind, but didn't omegas usually want to drown in their alphas scent when they were pregnant? So why was his repulsing you? It was hurting his ego. He closes his eyes, taking a sip of his drink with a soft sigh.
“You think?” It’s Baji who responds to the soft groan.
“I’d be shocked if she wasn’t.” And Mikey doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do about that. Should he confront you? Did you even know? It was a lot to think about; he’s still stewing in his own thoughts when his friends clap him on the shoulder and leave a little later. Mikey is staring down at his sixth drink when you call, huffing about his absence.
Resentment eats at him, despite his best efforts to quell it. What was the problem? Was… was the baby his? That thought shocks him so soundly that he nearly topples out of the seat in his rush to get up. He needs to go home-- needs the reassurance of your love and the connection the two of you share. Thankfully the bartender is quick with his payment and the cab he takes home doesn't try to talk to him.
Unfortunately, when he arrives home, you’re sulking on the couch, arms wrapped tightly around your knees while you glare at the door. Your chin is tucked into them, lower lip pushing out, and his presence doesn’t seem to soothe you at all. In fact, you’re still glaring when your gaze catches his, and his earlier thought seems so much bigger than it was meant to be. Did you still love him? You’d leave him if you didnt, right?
“Mikey…” Everything about you seems to soften and wilt suddenly, and the next thing he knows your bursting into tears as he scurries across the room to you.
“I don’t know whats wrong with me!” The wail seems overly dramatic as he bundles you up, pressing your face into the crook of his neck as a low purr builds in his chest. You cling to him, sobbing into the skin where your mate mark rests. You're nuzzling against him like you can't take the fact you're two separate bodies, fingers digging into his sweater desperately.
"I'm s-so-- sorry!" The hiccup bursts forth as he shushes you gently, letting you get your fill of him while he weighs the likelihood of you carrying his kid again.
Mikey decides he'll coax you into the pregnancy test when you can breath without gasping.
* * *
Your nails are sharp.
They're digging into his thigh as the two of you wait on the test. It had taken his most gentle prodding to convince you it was needed. Mostly he thinks you're in denial, because you'd laughed it off so quickly, but after some soft purring you caved.
"It's gonna be negative." The declaration tugs at his heart strings. The two of you are young; sure you'd agreed to wanting children but it had seemed like a distant thing. Something for your future selves to fret about. Glancing down at your phone, your lower lip catches between your teeth briefly.
"Is that what you want?" Mikey has tried to be as neutral as possible, resting a hand over yours and stroking your knuckles. But he can't deny the excitement, too. The want. His family was snatched away from him and he'd spent years trying to build another-- he wants this with you so badly it's almost nauseating.
"I don't know." You're crying again and he regrets asking, squeezing your hand as you shift around on the toilet seat. The edge of the tub is uncomfortable but you'd looked downright upset when he tried sitting on the floor. Of course you don’t know. You pick up the pregnancy test like it’s a venomous snake, pulling it to you with a soft frown and a furrow between your brows.
It’s positive-- he knows it is.
Your face morphs between joy to horror to amusement and round and round for a solid minute before you look at him with wide eyes. Mikey can’t resist the pull to beam at you when you hold it up and show him; falling into his arms, you laugh softly as you kiss him.
* * *
Mikey loves his children.
The twins are little balls of energy, rolling and army crawling around the living room floor at the tender age of five months old. You’re huffing and puffing as you “rotate their toys”, sifting through the little basket. He’s not clear on why you’re doing so, but he does know that he’s a little worried about the fact that his son is obsessed with that specific little monkey and wonders if he’s going to miss it.
“Should we do a tiger or a lion?” You’re holding up the stuffies with narrowed eyes, and for some reason he’s getting the impression that there is a wrong answer to this question. Mikey tries to recall if you’d given either of them to them before, drawing a blank.
Thankfully, his daughter interrupts what -- in his entirely professional opinion -- was a dangerous situation and reaches for the lion. Her babbling is loud enough that it forces your gaze from him, a soft coo passing your lips as you hand it over.
There's a tug on his pants leg that shifts his attention as well, and Mikey hefts his son up into his arms. Yeah, he loves his kids. This lifestyle was one he had been chasing for so long that he has no idea what to do with it now that he has it.
“You want the lion, huh?” You’re teasing, leaned down to talk to your little bundle of joy; when you look up at him again, the laughter in your eyes is like a warm blanket.
Purring softly, he puts his son to sleep when the baby drops his little chin on Mikeys shoulder, and the blond makes a point to scent the baby boy clinging to him. They always sleep better when they’re in the nest, but drowning in their parents scent was a solid second choice.
“I’m glad it wasn't negative.” The admittance comes as the two of you put them down in their cribs, whispered almost like a confession.
“I am too, love.” A kiss is pressed to the top of your head when the door to the kids bedroom clicks shut behind you two.
Tagging: @katsupeach , @keizos
