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kinglazrus · 3 years ago

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The Punishment Fits the Crime

Chapter 2: Actions Have Consequences

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Chapter summary: Make sure there are no cops around before you assault someone.

Word count: 4056

Warnings: panic attack

—

Danny watches the scabs on his knuckles crack and bleed. It stings. Every time he flexes his hands, the healing skin tears back open. The splits in his knuckles aren't large enough to bleed a concerning amount; but when he picks at them, thin traces of blood seep out into the wrinkles of his skin. A layer of pink over pale white.

The elevator to his left dings as the car arrives. He hears his dad's voice before the doors even open. "Where is he?"

Danny, so used to hiding his wounds from his parents, instinctively tries to tuck his hands into his hoodie pocket. He can't, though, thanks to the handcuffs. The fabric bunches between his fists, caught by the chain connecting the cuffs. It looks stupid, but the elevator doors are open now, and the bunched fabric covers the words of his knuckles, so he keeps them like that.

His parents come barrelling out of the elevator, leaving a frazzled police officer behind. The cop is plastered into the corner of the elevator car, uniform rumpled and hat off-kilter. Danny shakes his head at the guy. He doesn't feel sorry for the cop—that's the one who arrested him, after all—but he knows the horror of being trapped in a small space with two very frantic Fentons.

Danny's mother sees him first. He smiles sheepishly at her, hoping that will somehow lessen the blow of the situation. It doesn't. Maddie swoops in, tears springing to her eyes, and takes Danny's face in her hands.

"Oh my God, Danny, what happened?" Her thumb caresses his cheek, tracing the edges of his black eye. "We got a call saying that you were in a fight." She reaches down to take his hands in hers. Danny tries to pull away, but there's nowhere for him to go. It only takes Maddie a second to notice the cuffs. She reels back.

"What are these?" She grabs Danny's hands and raises them up. A soft gasp escapes her as she takes in his battered knuckles and the handcuffs. She rounds on the nearest officer. "Why is my son in handcuffs? He's fourteen."

"Mrs. Fenton." It's the arresting cop. He has yet to recover from the elevator ride up to the third floor, cheeks still flushed.

"Dr. Fenton," Maddie corrects him.

"Doctor, sure. Your son was involved in a fight with three other boys. Some serious injuries were sustained. He assaulted them."

Well, when he puts it like that, sure, it sounds bad. The cop gives Danny a chastising look. Danny doesn't feel chastised, though. He feels... a lot of things, actually. Satisfaction, first of all. When the rush of the fight was over and Danny stood tall over his victim, a warmth rushed through him. The feeling of a job well done. It didn't matter that the cop was already wrestling him into the back of a cruiser at that point. He remembers looking at Big Mouth laid out on the cracked pavement and smiling. It wasn't until the cruiser door slammed shut and Danny realized what exactly was happening that he felt anything else.

"Some boys from Elmerton," the cop continues.

"And where are they?" Maddie asks.

"Two of them are here, detained for underage drinking."

"Not assault? Look at my son's face. What if I want to press charges?"

The cop shakes his head. "Ma'am, according to their accounts, your son attacked them unprovoked. Anything they did is considered self-defence."

"It wasn't unprovoked," Danny mutters.

"Danny?" His mom tilts his face up toward hers. He looks at her, but not into her eyes. The thin line of her lips tells him enough about what she's feeling. He doesn't want to see it in her eyes, too.

The second thing he felt after the fight hadn't actually been a feeling. It had been a realization. The knowledge that he should have been feeling something, at least anything other than satisfied. He spent twenty minutes in the back of the cruiser on their way down to the station. Alone, thank God. If they had put him in the same cruiser as those other two boys, he couldn't guarantee what condition any of them would have been in when they arrived.

He stared at the back of the cop's head for the entire ride and wondered what was wrong with himself. There had to be something wrong. Normal people didn't go around beating people up and feeling satisfied with it—unless you're Dash Baxter. But even that's different. Dash is a high school bully and a mediocre one at that. He gives people wedgies and shoves them in lockers, but he doesn't really hurt people.

He doesn't try to stab people with screwdrivers.

Danny knows he shouldn't feel good about this. He feels bad about feeling good. But he doesn't feel bad because he did it. It's like when he was little and stole Jazz's stuffed animals all the time. His parents always made him apologize, and he did. But only because he got caught, not because he regretted what he did. This is just like that. Except instead of stealing stuffed animals, it's breaking some guy's arms. He deserved it, too. What kind of person goes around mutilating birds, killing cats, or running over dogs for fun? They deserve to be hurt the way they make others hurt. It just makes sense.

"Danny."

He comes back to himself at the sound of his mom's voice. Right. Police station. He got arrested. He did something bad.

Maddie brushes Danny's hair away from his face. He still doesn't lift his gaze. If he lets his mom look into his eyes, she might notice what he's feeling. She has a way of doing that—it must be a mom thing—and he doesn't want that to happen. Doesn't want her to be disappointed in him for doing a good thing.

"They were hurting some birds," Danny says.

The cop sighs. "Which isn't a justifiable reason for assault, especially not sending someone to the hospital."

Jack gasps. Danny almost forgot about his dad. He peeks up through his fringe but has to look down at the floor almost immediately. Jack is staring right at him, his expression blank. Somehow, that's worse than all the judgemental looks he has gotten since arriving.

"What happened?" It's the first thing Jack has said since arriving, minus his exclamation from the elevator. Danny doesn't think that counts, though.

"According to the Elmerton boys, they were in town to pull a couple of harmless pranks on Casper High before today's game. Your son caught them and attacked. They say he had a weapon at first, but we didn't find one on him. Two boys—who are in the holding cells until their parents arrived—only suffered a few nasty bruises. The last boy..."

The cop's gaze settles on him. Danny refuses to squirm. He tilts his head back and meet's the cop's stare head-on.

"Both arms were broken. Shoulders dislocated. There is a cut on his cheek that could have been from some kind of weapon, but, as I said, we didn't find one on your son or on the scene."

Danny tries to keep the smile off his face. Honestly, he tries, but he feels that warmth again. Like an embrace. Like someone whispering thank you in his ear.

"What happens now?" Jack asks. His voice is as empty as his expression. Danny's smile falls when he hears it.

"That depends on the court's decision," the cop says.

Maddie makes a pained noise in the back of her throat.

"You have to understand, assault can be a serious offence. You said your son is fourteen? If the boys' injuries were any worse, there's a chance he could have been tried as an adult. Honestly, that's still a possibility if we find proof that he used a weapon. At the very least, he's probably facing some time in juvie."

Danny's breath catches in his throat. That's not right. That isn't fair. He didn't do anything wrong.

"The boy in the hospital also has the right to sue," the cop adds after a moment.

"Okay." Maddie closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. She steadies herself, letting go of Danny's hand and sitting next to him on the bench. "What happens right now?"

"Your son hasn't been very cooperative so far. He hasn't provided his account of the events and hasn't answered our questions. It was a pain in the ass just getting his name and phone number. I'm inclined to detain him here, in which case there would be a hearing in less than five days."

"You can't do that! He has school, and—he's only fourteen. you can't keep a fourteen-year-old in jail," Maddie protests.

"Mrs. Fenton—"

"Doctor."

"—when the situation calls for it, we are within our right to keep an adolescent detained."

Maddie glances at Danny. For the first time since she arrived, Danny meets her gaze. He doesn't know how to convey what he's feeling to her without giving himself away. He knows this is serious. He knows they think he did something wrong. But those Elmerton boys were killing birds and Danny just felt so angry. He always feels angry, now. It burns through him. It started as an ember with that first body and now it lights his blood on fire. The world is full of people that need to be punished.

Danny digs his nail under one of his scabs and rips it off. The sting makes him flinch.

"Give me ten minutes," Maddie says. She stands up, pulls her phone from her pocket, and walks away. The cop watches her go, shaking his head, before turning to Jack.

"Dr. Fenton—"

"It's just mister, actually."

The cop's face pinches. "Mr. Fenton, while your wife is busy, let me go over how things will proceed from here."

"Right. Yes. That would be good to know." Jack ruffles Danny's hair as he passes, following the cop to his desk.

Danny stays on the bench, continuing to pick at his scabs. They keep healing over no matter how much he picks at them. One of the benefits of a ghostly constitution, although not at this particular moment. He wants the sting of tearing skin. He needs to remind himself to feel something other than grim vindication.

Other than the busted knuckles and the black eye, two of his fingers are also taped. They were bothering him earlier when he was first arrested, but the twinges of pain have long since faded. He keeps the tape on for show. If they're here for much longer, someone is bound to notice that his bruises are slowly shrinking. He doesn't need them catching on that his hand is fine, too.

Jack sits with the cop at his desk, nodding slowly along with whatever he is saying. Danny wishes he could see his dad's face, to gauge his reaction. Or see if what he's hearing is good or bad. Probably bad. Attempting to stab someone with a screwdriver sounds like a serious offence. Tucked in a corner by the elevators, Maddie stands with her back to the room and her phone pressed against her ear. Danny strains to hear what she is saying. Despite it being two in the morning, there's a fair amount of noise in the station that makes it hard for Danny to hear. The occasional word rises above the din.

Assault. Hospital. Arrested. Lawsuit. It's not a great series of words. It doesn't tell him what he wants to know, though. Who did his mom call? She goes silent. Danny watches the clock that hangs over the elevator and counts the seconds. At forty-seven, his mom turns and scans the room. She looks at Jack, first, and then at Danny. They stare at each other for a while. Whoever she's talking to must like the sound of their own voice to be going on this long.

Maddie ends the staring contest, lowering her gaze to the floor. The call must be winding down because she turns away from her corner and takes a step forward.

"I'll repay you somehow. Thank you, Vlad."

The breath in Danny's lungs turns to ice. His body goes cold. Time stops ticking. That name hits him like an ectoblast to the gut. Danny watches his mom hang up her cellphone and return it to her pocket. She hugs herself. Even from his place on the bench, he notices how she trembles. The frown hasn't left Maddie's face since the cop first explained the situation, but it's different now, more profound.

Something in Danny cracks.

—

It only takes ten minutes. Ten minutes from the moment his mom hands up to Danny walking out of the police station unbound. He follows close behind his mom while Jack trails after, his hand on Danny's shoulder. Danny can't tell if the touch is meant to be comforting or punishing. Jack's grip is hard, but that's just how he is. His hugs always feel like he's about to crush your bones to dust.

The RV is parked on the sidewalk in front of the station. One of the benefits of getting called down at two in the morning Danny supposes. Quality parking. He'll have to remember that the next time he gets arrested. Maddie unlocks the RV and pulls the back door open for him.

"Mom," Danny says.

She pauses.

"Who were you on the phone with?" Although Maddie doesn't know the extent of Danny's relationship with Vlad—can't so long as she doesn't know about their ghost halves—she does know that Danny dislikes the man. It's one of the few things they can bond over nowadays. Nothing brings a mother and son together quite like the mutual hatred of a family friend.

"Just a friend," she says.

"Oh." Danny isn't sure what he expected. He isn't sure if he cares about the lie or not. "And... now? What happens now?"

"We go home and go to sleep. It's late. But there's a lot we have to talk about in the morning."

Danny nods and clambers into the back of the RV. Jack gives his shoulder a pat before sliding the door closed. Sleep sounds good right now. Danny is suddenly very tired.

—

No one comes to wake Danny up when it's time for school. He used to be good about waking up on time, but since taking up ghost hunting it has become harder and harder to keep up with good habits. As a result, Jazz has taken to being his personal alarm. He appreciates it most of the time.

Today, however, he wakes at his own pace. A beam of sunlight warms his face, slipping through the crack in his curtains. He turns toward it and pulls his covers up to his chin, relishing in the warmth. Moments like this are rare nowadays. He soaks it in, clinging to sleep for as long as possible. Outside his room, life goes on. Cars pass on the street outside. Some clangs around downstairs. The sound of birds and neighbours chatting drifts through his window. But here, inside these walls, he exists in a moment outside of time where the only thing that matters is how long he has before this side of his pillow gets too warm.

Eventually, Danny has to wake up, prodded by his sharpened senses. The sunlight across his face goes from warm to hot. The rumble of passing cars becomes a nuisance. Soft birdsong turns to piercing notes.

Danny opens his eyes at precisely ten fifty-seven a.m. and his moment of peace ends. He stretches, flexing stiff fingers. Some soreness lingers around his eye, but his injuries will have finished healing in the night. When he checks his knuckles, he finds the scabs replaced by pale pink skin. Whether or not the scars will stay remains to be seen. You can never tell when it comes to ghostly biology. Either way, the marks are small and easily dismissed.

He lays there a while longer, tracing star sticker constellations on his ceiling with his eyes. They're sloppy, as far as constellations go. Draco is too short. The Ursas have swapped places. Orion faces the wrong direction. In Danny's defence, he put them up when he was eight. Back then, he cared less about accuracy and more about wanting to see the night sky at any time of day. He even painted his ceiling black before putting them up, although he didn't tell his parents he was doing any of this until it was already done. He snuck a can of paint from the shed and a stepladder from the kitchen. He hadn't been able to find any paint brushes, though, so he smeared the paint across his ceiling with an old t-shirt. His carpet and bedframe still have stains from where the paint dripped down.

His mom had been so mad when she found out what he did. it was the maddest he had ever seen her. She cared less about the mess—although he still got a good scolding for that—than she did about his own safety. He could have slipped and hurt himself. He could have breathed in too many fumes since he was painting with his door and window closed. She ended up grounding him for two weeks.

Danny thinks his punishment this time is going to be a lot worse.

His clock reads eleven twenty-five by the time he finally drags himself out of bed. The noises downstairs are still going. He checks his phone on his way down, skimming through recent messages.

From: Sammykins | 1:37 a.m. Hope you didnt get in too much trouble for being late. See you tomorrow

From: Too Fine | 7:19 a.m. we have to get sam's backpack from her house meet u on the way to school?

From: Too Fine | 7:42 a.m. u coming down?

From: Too Fine | 7:46 a.m. Nvm. Spoke to jazz. Feel better dude

Danny wonders what excuse she made for him. Does she even know what happened last night? He doesn't have any more texts from her, and she hadn't been awake when they got home. Maybe she doesn't know. Danny tucks his phone into his pocket and peeks into his kitchen. His mom is here, whipping something in a bowl. It looks chocolatey. There is a full rack of cookies cooling on the counter and a baking sheet on the stove waiting to go in the oven. The table is covered in baking supplies, including an empty baking sheet and a bowl of cookie dough that has yet to be portioned.

"Good morning, Mom," Danny says.

Maddie stirs faster.

After a moment's hesitation, Danny shuffles into the kitchen and takes a seat at the table. He grabs a handful of dough and picks through the mixings. Butterscotch chips. Crumbled walnuts. Mini marshmallows. Chocolate dust. Plucking a marshmallow from the dough, he starts nibbling on it while he forms the dough into a ball. Once it's smooth enough to his liking, he sets it on the baking sheet and presses it flat. By now, he assumes that school just isn't happening for him today. Jazz is the one who always wakes him up, but when his parents are home, they try to usher him out the door in time for school. He fills the baking sheet a third of the way before Maddie finally sets her bowl down and joins him at the table.

"I'm not going to juvie, am I?" he asks.

"I'm not sure yet." Maddie picks up one of the cookies Danny formed and says, "This is too big." She tears the cookie into halves, passing one of them to Danny while she keeps the other. They reroll the cookies in silence for a while.

Jack must not be home. Danny's dad never misses an opportunity to munch on cookie dough, especially when Maddie is experimenting. The house is also too quiet. Jack has a way of making himself known, whether he means to or not. Making loud noises when he's excited. Stomping around from room to room. Danny misses that noise right now. The silence presses down on him.

"Danny, we need to have a talk," Maddie says.

Silence is actually amazing. Danny loves silence. He could live in silence forever.

"I love you, but I don't understand what happened. You said they were hurting some birds? Why did you attack them?

"It was a prank."

Maddie pales. "You hurt them as a joke?"

"No!" Danny waves his hands frantically. "I meant—there's a big game with Elmerton today and they always pull a prank on us the night before. When I found them, some of them were drinking, and they were hurting birds. Not just hurting them, mutilating them. Their wings and necks were broken."

"Danny, that's..." Maddie closes her eyes. "That's horrible, but that doesn't make what you did okay."

"But they were killing them for fun!"

"So you think what you did is justified?"

"Yes! Obviously!

"Daniel James Fenton, don't shout at me."

Danny slams his hands on the table. "The birds didn't do anything to them. They were just being birds!"

"Exactly, Danny. They were just birds. You don't break someone's arms over a bird. I'm sorry, I know those boys were doing something wrong, but that doesn't make what you did right."

"Why not?!" Danny's eyes burn. He doesn't remember standing up, but he is now. The air around him is hot. The table rattles beneath his palms.

"Danny, calm down—"

"Why is it okay for them to do that and not get punished for it? You don't just—they're not allowed to hurt someone like that and get away with it!" Danny paces around the table, hands buried in his hair.

Maddie's head snaps to the side as the chair beside her topples over. The whole room is shaking.

"Why don't you get it?!"

The kitchen lights buzz in Danny's ears. It makes his skin crawl. The noise digs into his brain like beetles burrowing into his skull. The room is too loud. Too small. Danny is suffocating. Why doesn't she understand? He can't let people get away with something so horrible. Those animals are hurting. Even after they're dead, they're in pain, and he can feel it in his core. They pull at him, wail in his ear, beg him to help them find peace. They won't leave him alone. Why can't they leave him alone?

Why is everything so fucking loud?

"God damn it!" Danny grabs the bowl of cookie dough and smashes it on the floor. The bowl explodes, glass flying everywhere.

"Danny!" His mom screams.

He snaps back to reality. The kitchen is a wreck. It's not just the bowl that is smashed. Chairs are knocked over. The cooling rack is on the floor, and the cookies themselves have crumbled to pieces. The bowl his mom has been whipping is smashed at her feet. And his mom... Danny's stomach drops. His mom is huddled in the corner of the room. Blood drips down her shin from a cut on her knee. She stares at him with fear in her eyes. Danny takes a step back. It breaks whatever spell settled over Maddie. She moves, skirting around the table. Danny thinks she is running away from him; but rather than heading for the door, she heads straight for him and throws her arms around him.

Danny freezes. Maddie squeezes him tight, running a gentle hand through his hair. He tries to hold himself together, biting his lip and clenching his fist. His shoulders shake. No, no. he's stronger than this, better than this. He's a hero. He fights off ghosts and avenges dead animals. He doesn't cry in his mother's arms. Those thoughts persist until his mom presses his head down and whispers to him, "It's okay, Danny. You're okay."

When Jack finally comes home twenty minutes later, he walks into the kitchen to find Maddie cradling Danny on the floor. Danny is half asleep but clings to his mother with all his strength. Beneath his fringe, his half-lidded eyes glow green. Maddie looks up at her husband and slowly shakes her head.

—

#phic phight #phic phight 2022 #unluckyalis #danny phantom #phicc #phanfic #danny phantom fanfiction #tumblroneshots #danny fenton #punishment fits the crime #danny is a vengeful spirit #mention of animal mutilation #tw panic attack

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sarahjkl82-blog · 3 years ago

Note

Okay I have an idea for family man Pero

You had wrote that they the dog broke the mom's couch 😂

Were they teens/young adults? If so (& even if they weren't), how would they have reacted to finding out she was pregnant? I imagine it would have been unplanned given the way little Javi was conceived? Lol

@sharkbait77 I am so sorry that it has taken me so long to write this for you. But here is 16.8k words all about your ask because being succinct is not my strong point. In my head, reader is roughly 25 and Pero is about 29- they’re young but not super young. Still a bit of a shock to reader though.

Warnings: Children, babies, childbirth (mentions of blood/ body fluids), breast feeding, anxiety, feet, periods, smut - ABSOLUTELY NO MINORS.

Modern!Pero and the Original Broken Sofa

(Or how little Javi came to be)

You’re a mum.

A mama.

How the fuck did that happen? I mean, you know

it happened but still. Pero looks to be in a similar amount of shock as you turn your head to look at him - the 5 o’clock shadow on his chin prickling your bare shoulder as he rests it there. His lips are slightly parted as he gazes down upon his newborn son, who is cradled tightly to your chest.

This wasn’t meant to happen yet.

✪✪✪✪✪

“Mi cielo, you’re beautiful but you stink,” the twinkle in Pero’s eyes reveals what the rest of his face is desperately trying to hide as he attempts to rub off the stinking mud from your face with one hand, your mum’s new pup - Nana, the fucking Newfoundland - tugging on her lead in his other.

“Are you talking to me, or the bloody dog?” You question, grumpily reaching for your boyfriend’s hand as he tries to one-handedly haul you from the brackish pond. Clumsily clambering out - looking a little like a bog monster with twigs and mud plaited in your hair - you look up sharply on hearing an ill-concealed choke of laughter, “Stop it cabrón, or I’ll push you in there myself and you can smell as bad.”

“Lo siento, mi corazón,” his dimple flashes as he giggles openly - a sound he reserves for you alone, “For someone, who moves so gracefully when they dance, you are incredibly clumsy the rest of the time. I just don’t quite understand how you fell in and Nana didn’t.”

You stick out your bottom lip as you ponder how, having accidentally dropped the dog’s lead and chased after the escaping mutt, you ended up submerged in stinking water, “I think she corners better than me.”

“Four feet good, two feet bad?” Pero laughs before straightening his face as another dog walker walks past the pair of you. Heaven forbid anyone should catch him with a genuine smile upon his face and not a smirk of disgust.

The woodland is like an oasis of paradise despite its little pockets of dank pond water. The fresh air manages to filter out the persistent hum of traffic that punctates it everywhere else, only the distant tower blocks and skyscrapers remind you that you’re still in the city. Here, your mum’s lunatic dog, with her boundless, puppy-like energy, can run free for hours and the two of you can stop working for two minutes to remember how to just be. The sunlight trickles in through the stained glass leaves, letting in a purer light than the exhaust fume stained one you find in Central.

Nearby, on the trunk of an elderly oak tree, there is a woodpecker hunting for insects. You nudge Pero wordlessly, not wanting to break the magical quality of the moment as you watch its brilliant red crest rocking back and forth as it pecks endlessly into the ancient bark. Tiny chips of wood fall into the bed of leaf litter below, the sound swallowed quickly into the mostly empty woodland around.

After that enchanting spot, you try to take your boyfriend’s hand but he spins out of reach quickly. Frowning at him, you try again, and again but he just lurches out of the way each time.

This is war!

“Can I have a kiss?”

Still semi-wrestling Nana to walk in the same direction as you, Pero frowns for a moment before answering, “Maybe later?”

“How long is that later? Are we talking about a rest of the world later or a Spanish mañana?” you quiz him teasingly, knowing full well that he doesn’t want to kiss the walking filth bucket by his side.

“Querida, it’s an international after-a-shower later,” he chuckles, still edging further from you, his feet slightly picking up speed as the path through the woods opens out into an expansive field.

A wicked flash of mischief sparks in your eye, your feet accelerating to mimic his, “Do you not want to kiss me, mi amor?”

Nana loves this slight change in speed from the pedestrian plod she’d been forced to pace at. With a bounce and bark, she bowls forwards. All forty kilos of the daft hound wrench forward, pulling on the lead and Pero’s hand that is attached to it, making him almost fall flat on his face with the sudden movement as he bellows, “Maldito perro! Bloody dog! I swear, all the women in my life gang up on me.”

Still giving chase, you run after him laughing until your lungs hurt, “Cariño, I just want a kiss!”

“Stay away from me, bruja and talk to your mother’s dog,” Pero wheezes out between gasps from the sudden sprint he’s been forced on.

Leaves and questionable sludge fly from your body as you run after the pair of them, over the open field past several bemused dog walkers as you dramatically shout after the rapidly disappearing pair, “I just want un beso from mi amor - why are you being so mean?”

“Not mean, just prefer my weekends not covered in pond scum,” he shouts over his shoulder at you, that turn of his head becoming his literal downfall as Nana cuts in front of him and he ends up on the floor in a heap, “Hijo de puta! Son of a bitch!”

Finally catching up with a groaning Pero, still prostrate amongst the grass and wildflowers, you stand over him, smirking at his fate, “You ok down there?”

Squinting up at you against the glare of the sun, he slowly sits up, drawing his knees towards himself as he pushes his way off the ground - rolling his eyes hard, “Come on, let's get you home so you can shower and I can kiss you again.”

✪✪✪✪✪

With a towel around your hair and another tucked under your arms, you flick through the overnight bag you’ve brought with you while you stay at your mum’s. It had all been so last minute - you are house sitting Nana whilst your mum goes off on a yoga retreat with a couple of friends- but Pero and you had jumped at the chance of being somewhere other than your sweltering flat. You’d forgotten to pack so much - like your wash bag or Pero’s razor - but it is hardly as if you are in the middle of nowhere. As you pull out a pretty cotton summer dress, your hand knocks against the tissue wrapped, little present you’ve bought for Pero to enjoy, a smile unfurling across your face as you unwrap the stunning lingerie set.

Once you’re dressed, you head into the kitchen to throw together some tapas for the two of you to pick at for dinner. From the other room, you can hear the furious slam of keys coming from your boyfriend’s computer.

Not another problem at work.

The problem of being an IT security specialist means that evenings and weekends are never free from work, which often translates to him being permanently attached to his computer. As you decant the Andalusian chicken into one of your mum’s many ceramic dishes you’d collected for her on that fateful year abroad you’d spent in Seville, you then hear a softened baritone cut though the summer air, “Oh are you hungry, pequeño? Cariño, I think Nana needs feeding.”

You look up over your shoulder, away from the salad you are preparing as your ruffled, shuffling boyfriend enters the room with Nana pitter-pattering at his feet. A little grunt of appreciation spills from Pero’s lips as he sees the spread of squid, mussels, tortilla and other delectable treats set out across the table. His hand flickers out like a serpent's tongue in an attempt to surreptitiously steal a stuffed pepper without you noticing - a cheeky flash of his dimple showing upon his face as he notices you watching him amusedly, “Perhaps I need feeding too?”

“Pero, has there ever been a moment in your life where you haven’t needed feeding?” you question, shaking your head as he saunters up behind you, placing a slightly oily kiss upon your shoulder, “I shall never forget your mum’s words about her boobs the first time I met her. The supposed damage you did to them from your constant need to feed as a baby.”

A little snicker of amusement comes from across the other side of the kitchen where Pero is now leaning languidly, his long legs outstretched as his hips rest against the work surface, “I have two other sisters with similarly voracious appetites- the blame cannot solely be placed at my door.

“What is it your mum always says about me? That I have empty legs? No, hollow. Hollow legs. Anyway a growing boy needs his food. As does this puppy, where does your mother keep the dog biscuits?” Pero starts opening cupboards in search of something to satiate the hound.

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll do it in a moment. You go sit down and grab some bits to eat, before you have to head back to your computer.”

Within a split second, Pero is at the table with a plate piled high and Nana sitting patiently at his feet, awaiting the food that drops from the sky. You can't help but laugh at the tableau of the man and this monstrous puppy sitting adoringly at his feet with her fluffy black chin resting patiently on his thigh in everlastingly optimistic hopefulness. Placing the salad on the table, you hear Pero mutter to Nana, “S’ok perrito, I won’t make you eat your greens.”

“I hope if we ever have kids, you’ll be a bit tougher than that,” you wag your finger at him, turning to go fill Nana’s bowl. As you place it on the floor, you hear a jumble of sounds exit Pero’s brain all at once.

“Que...Queri...Querida? Uh hmmm,” in the sounds of your boyfriend’s brain short circuiting, you laugh in the realisation of what Pero has just gotten a glimpse of as you bent over, “Okay perrito, you do not need to see any of this. You’re far too young.” Scooping Nana up in his arms, he pops her in her bed with a quick scratch of her head before grabbing your hand and pulling you out of the kitchen into the front room, shutting the baby gate on the way to avoid any cold dog nose situations.

✪✪✪✪✪

“Cielito, are you ok?” You question having been half marched into the living room.

“This needs to come off,” the soft baritone begs you as you feel Pero’s fingers searching desperately around the bodice of your dress.

Giggling as his fingers stroke the material in search of a fastener, you complain, “You’re tickling me!”

“You’re not too attached to this dress are you? Ah no me importa! Oh I don’t care!” With that, he rips the material so that he can see what you've been hiding underneath. This action makes you shriek in surprise, mouth agape. Whilst he has torn many a piece of underwear in desperation of accessing you quicker, the dress tearing is a first.

When he catches your shocked expression, he pauses, “Lo siento, querida niña, pero I must see what’s underneath. I promise we will get you another dress, I just… Oh!”

For such a large, broad man, his touch is always so gentle (well, apart from that dress - RIP). Initially he just hovers near you, his fingers making tiny brushstrokes across where lace meets skin, “What … What is this for, cielo?” It is not my birthday,” his eyes dart to the side, eyebrows furrowing as he ponders, “It’s not an anniversary, either.”

“No, mi sol. No reason, you’ve just been working so hard and I thought you could do with a treat,” you stroke his stubbly face lovingly as you look up at him, “I’ve barely seen you for weeks - we might live at the same address but work has been so hectic that I think the walk earlier is the first time we’ve spent more than half an hour together without a screen open.”

As he encircles you, admiring your body from every side, his hands linger longingly as they stroke over the silken material. You enjoy every laboured breath and every tic you see in his face, “Oh querida, you always look good but …”

“Even when you wouldn’t kiss me because I had mud all over me earlier?” You teasingly question.

“Well, I still thought you were beautiful even though you were covered in mud, but this?” His eyes are wide in wonder as he catches your eye, “This is something else. I can’t find the words in Spanish, let alone in English to describe this sight before me.

“You look so beautiful. Your curves are so… mmm, so delicious,” you watch Pero bite his lip as he considers where to start, “I want to devour you, mi cielo.”

A light scratch from his nails makes you sharply inhale as he moves your hair away from your neck. As he moves closer, you can feel the small, warm huffs of his breath before he places his deliciously full lips against your silky smooth skin. As his mouth explores the vulnerable, sensitive areas of your neck - kissing, nibbling, licking - you feel your shoulders drop as all the muscles relax, knowing that for now, you have won the battle of winning Pero’s attention from his computer screen.

Pero’s hands start moving down from your shoulders, fingers tracing the length of your arms before bringing them up to trace the outline of your bra. The reverence that he applies to learning the contours of the lace makes your skin tingle all over, forcing a moan from your lips.

“Am I moving too slowly, cielo? Lo siento but a meal such as this cannot be rushed,” he growls softly in your ear.

Sliding the straps gently from your shoulders to remove the tatters of your dress, it slides to the floor in a pile of rags as he mutters, “Ah señorita, how is someone as beautiful as you, with a man such as me?”

His hands drift across your breasts with his thumbs seeking out your steadily stiffening nipples through the silky cups. Your heartbeat quickens despite the slow assault Pero makes upon your body, your breathing warm and erratic at his touch.

All this time he has been worshipping at the altar of your body, his eyes have been focussed upon the part that he is slowly unravelling. When eventually he looks up, the expression upon his face almost brings you to tears. So much softness and adoration in those burnt umber eyes, lips slightly parted with a slight upward curl that creeps in at the corner as he focuses upon you.

Bringing his hands to your hair, he tilts his head before time stops in a collision of senses as Pero leans in to brush the gentlest of kisses against your lips. The scent of sandalwood and cedar rising from his skin excites your senses as the two of you meet as one. His hands slide further around to your back where they pull you tightly against him.

Any space that may have existed between the two of you is quickly extinguished as you push yourself into him, deepening the kiss- making it the type of kiss that destroys any kind of sensible thought. The only things mattering in the moment being feeling and wanting.

In time, your kisses steady, becoming tender again. Pero pulls back momentarily to mutter through laboured breaths, “Mi chica hermosa my beautiful girl.”

Shuffling backwards until your calves hit the couch, the two of you collapse backwards in a tangle of limbs as your hands and lips continue to explore each other. As your bodies crash land into the cushions, there is a groan from the joints of the sofa, you can’t help but giggle in the moment, “Sounds like you getting out of bed in the morning, viejo.”

At that, Pero bites you playfully on your shoulder and breaks backwards from you, sitting back on his heels, straddling your hips. He strokes a wayward tendril of hair from your face before sliding his hands beneath your back, fumbling away, trying to unclasp your bra. You can’t help but giggle at this wasted effort, whispering, “Guapo, you untie it in front.”

“Mierda, I get to unwrap you like a present?” he growls as he gazes upon the ribbon resting between your breasts, “Fuuuuck.”

As his knees straddle your hips, Pero’s hands go back to tracing the lace across the cups- his touch making you want to scream in impatience. His hands gradually work their way towards the bow, a huge smile spreading across his face as he takes the silky fabric and gently tugs the ribbon undone. Your breasts spill free from the material and a lust-laden moan spills from your boyfriend’s mouth.

Eagerly bending over, Pero brings one of your breasts to his mouth, gently flicking his tongue over your nipple before sucking and squeezing the succulently tender flesh. As his mouth continues to feast upon your breasts, Pero’s hands slowly stroke away the gauzy material from your tummy allowing him access to the soft silky skin beneath making you tremble beneath his touch. His fingers tenderly stroke patterns of love before he rises up and away from you.

You lick your lips as you watch him peel off his T-shirt - drinking in the sight of his broad chest and beautifully olive skin.

“Cielito, don’t look at me like that or I will revert into being a teenage boy and cum in my pants,” he chuckles with a flush spreading through his skin as he removes his jeans.

Your sultry pout gives way to a laugh, “I can’t help it, beautiful boy - just enjoying the view!”

Moving himself back onto the sofa, Pero kneels between your legs - sliding his hands up and down the outside of your stockinged thighs. His hands stop when they reach the lacy edging at the top - a wicked sense of glee spilling through your body when you hear his breath catch in his throat. You tremble as he moves his hands to your inside thigh, instinctively shuffling your hips closer to him as if magnetised by his hands.

As Pero’s fingers gradually work their way up, your heart feels like it will break free. Internally clenching in anticipation, you finally feel his fingertips skirt over the silk as he traces the lines of you through your knickers - your legs unconsciously spreading wider, inviting him closer.

Your head spins between wanting him to rip your knickers off and allowing him to continue torturing you so slowly as he presses the rapidly dampening material into your folds. Hooking his thumbs into the waistband, you lift your hips wordlessly for him to slide your knickers off. As he does, you hear Pero suck in a sharp breath, shaking his head and mumbling thickly as he strokes the outline of the suspender belt, “Ah querida, I want this view framed. So fucking beautiful.”

You shift your arse as you desperately seek his fingers deeper rather than the tender strokes Pero is currently tracing through your tight curls. Thankfully, before you have to forcefully reroute his hands, his digits start to delve into the velvet of your pussy making you groan and arch away from the cushions - the sounds you create are entirely indecent.

“So wet for me, cielito,” Pero’s leisurely pace drives you wild as you watch him bring two soaked fingers to his mouth, tasting them as he stares deep into your eyes. Deciding it is time to stop torturing you, he grabs your hips emphatically, bringing your ass to the edge of the sofa - leaping off the cushions to kneel between your thighs.

His calloused hands gently lift your legs over his shoulders, then clasp your ass cheeks before he lowers his head in what you know is his favourite prayer. He places gentle kisses along the line of your slit, nuzzling the damp curls that run either side as you run your hands through his thick, dark hair, holding his head firmly in place. You gasp as his tongue suddenly laps at your clit and two - no, three fingers slide into your pussy as Pero rhythmically pumps his curled digits back and forth. From what feels like nowhere after his constant stroking and teasing, you are soaring high amongst the clouds - chasing that glorious high as your pussy clamps down and you desperately try to snap your hips away from his iron-like grip.

Gradually, your muscles relax and you stop trying to lever his shoulders away with your feet. As Pero slowly drags his fingers from your still fluttering walls, your eyes half open to see a smug grin upon his face, “What are you looking so pleased about?”

“I love how my touch can completely wreck you,” he growls deeply before biting your thigh and straightening up.

With all your muscles partially jelly-like, you make an awkward attempt to slide off the sofa, desperately wanting to take him in your mouth and taste him but a large palm stops your movement.

“Where do you think you’re going, hermosa?” he questions. “Turn around. Place your hands on the arm of the chair.”

You obediently turn yourself around with much needed support for your trembling limbs from Pero’s hands as he guides and manipulates your body into position. He spreads your legs wide apart, lifting your hips up to meet him and thrusts easily inside of you in one smooth stroke. A small scream of pleasure escapes your lips at the sheer intensity of the pleasure he’s pressing between your thighs.

You lift your hips in search of having his cock deeper inside of you as one of his hands grabs your waist and the other wraps itself in your hair, snapping your head back. Reaching between your legs to massage Pero’s balls, you tug and stroke them - enjoying the effect this has on him, as his thrusts become sharper, rubbing perfectly against that tender spot inside of you. Beneath your hand, the sofa arm creaks ominously as Pero’s hips snap into yours, faster and harder as he spins you spiralling closer to the pinnacle of your pleasure.

A large palm comes down and smacks your bare arse forcefully - the pain and pleasure surging through you simultaneously, edging you ever closer to that perfect finish. With each slap of your sensitive bottom, you surge forward - your arms barely able to brace against Pero’s thrusts. A final thrust from him has you flying- both literally and figuratively as your orgasm hits and the arm of the sofa separates from its body.

“Holy shit!” You scream in a bizarre mix of pleasure and terror, your body flying forward as your support slips out of reach.

Still inside of you, Pero tries in vain to catch you as your body clumsily falls forward, “Querida, are you ok?” he pants breathlessly in your ear, “Are you hurt?”

Half hanging off the edge of the sofa, shaking with laughter, you beg between amused gasps, “Not hurt but what the actual fuck?” with an awkward twist, you turn onto your back to face Pero, whose eyes are anxiously checking you over, “Did we really just break the arm of the fucking sofa?”

“Whilst fucking, we broke the fucking sofa,” Pero chuckles into your mostly upside down boobs, nuzzling and kissing into the soft, sweet flesh.

“”What are we going to do, cielo? How on Earth are we going to explain this to my mum?”

Your question is met with a pout from Pero and a small whine from the kitchen. There’s a wonderful wordless moment between the pair of you as your eyes dart towards the other room… Could you?

“I mean, my bottom is bruised black and blue from where she knocked me over in the field by the woods- we could say that was from wrestling with her,” Pero ponders, frowning as he rests his chin on your sternum, “We could accept responsibility for playing with her to the point she got over excited? Your mum doesn’t seem the type to punish after the event so Nana wouldn’t get in trouble.”

“I don’t think my mum will ask for photographic evidence of your bum,” you snort, “Oh I feel guilty blaming the dog but that’s definitely a superior choice to saying, ‘Mum, Pero and I broke your sofa from having amazing sex.’I mean, we have a pretty open relationship but that might be a step too far.”

You lie together for several long moments just simply relishing the closeness, despite being completely topsy-turvy with your head hanging over the edge of the sofa cushions. Savouring the afterglow, you stroke your fingers through Pero’s dark curls, admiring the different shades running through them. He suddenly sighs sharply, making you stroke his cheek and crane your neck to check on him, “You ok, beautiful boy?”

A small grunt meets your question from the man with his head resting between your breasts, “Mmm. Just listening to your heartbeat. Recharging. Getting my strength back.”

“Strength back for what?”

“Why, round two, mi amor”

✪✪✪✪✪

Sitting on the loo, you put the test down on the sink and wipe yourself. Checking the tissue, there’s still no sign of this fucking period. You’re now a week late and whereas you could perhaps write off a day or two of being overdue to the stress you’ve been subjected to at work, the real question of why it is late, is now eating at you.

Why the fuck are most of the symptoms of a period coming, the same as a possible early pregnancy? Achy boobs? Check. Little tummy cramps? Yup. Moodiness. Fuck. If your hands had been big enough to reach all the way around Pero’s fucking thick neck, you’d have murdered him in his sleep last night with that ruckus coming from his airways. Tiredness? Oh boy. You find yourself nodding off in meetings that could have been an email (mind you, nothing new there) and your blessed commute has become a time for naps instead of reading.

The slam of your front door shocks you from your bathroom reverie, “Qué tal, hermosa? Dónde estás?”

“On the loo.”

A small knock taps on the bathroom door making you look up from your vulnerable position, finding Pero filling the door frame - a frown upon his face, “You ok?”

You don’t answer, choosing to gesture toward the plastic stick resting upon the cool ceramic of the sink. Watching his face carefully, his usual passionate expressiveness stilled, you look for a response as a sense of fear ices your veins.

Just a nod. All you get is a nod.

“How much time is left?” he gently asks.

“I dunno. Thirty two seconds?”

“That’s pretty specific for something you said you dunno about,” he teases with a grin on his face, “There’s already an answer on it, if you want to know.”

Drawing a juddery breath, you shut your eyes as you rub the bridge of your nose - like that could help whatever that fucking stick says.

“Wh…What does it say?” You ask quietly.

“Pregnant, mi querida. You’re pregnant, my love.”

“Fuck.”

Pero takes two strides into the room dropping to his knees in front of the toilet, where you sit, sobbing into your fists. Not saying a word, he kneels there - alternately kissing your forehead and stroking your hair.

“Whatever you want to do, querida, I will back you 100% of the way,” he softly whispers.

“How could I be so stupid? Shit, I had that week of antibiotics just before we went to my mum’s- my pill would have been useless!”

“Hey, how many times have you impregnated yourself?”

“What the fuck are you talking about? My brain cannot cope with riddles right now,” you growl at Pero.

“I’m sorry - I mean, you didn’t do this by yourself. And if you remember, it was me who forgot to pack our wash bag when we stayed there - a couple of pills were missed too because of that,” Pero strokes away the tears running down your face, “I should have worn a condom- I should have thought about it. This isn’t all on you.”

“What do you think I should do?”

“Cariño, it is not me who carries the pregnancy or gives birth. My body doesn’t change but no matter what you choose, I am right here beside you,” he calmly delivers, staring deeply into your bloodshot eyes, “Whatever happens, you don’t get rid of this tonto easily.”

“I was just starting to be treated like an equal at work but now they’re going to see me as some silly little girl again, who can’t get her shit together.”

“Please stop being so negative about yourself - fuck them if they judge you. Look at me,” Pero tilts your chin up but your eyes do not follow, “I said look at me, princesa. From the moment I met you, I knew that you were my person. Our lips touched and I could see my future for the first time.

“Before we met, I lived for work. Well, I’m not sure anyone would call it living - I just went from security job to security job with William, barely ever leaving my screen and certainly never speaking to anyone. I had fleeting, toxic relationships where, to be honest, I wasn’t the best boyfriend.

“Kissing you though, it all became clear. I was in a house with you, grumbling about all the idiots in the world over a glass of wine. If work does not value you, then that is their loss - it is not your problem.”

Threading your fingers through his, you shift uncomfortably upon your strange seat, “Did you see children in your future with me?”

“I’m from a family and culture who love children. I’ve always wanted them and more than anything with you but if now is not the time, then we will discuss it when you are ready. What are you thinking, hermosa?”

With your heart in your throat, you worry your lip between your teeth, “It feels so big. So overwhelming.”

Pero nods silently with a small, kind smile playing upon his lips, “Tell me, what do you see when you think of the future?”

✪✪✪✪✪

“So what were the dates of your last menstrual cycle?” the midwife kindly asks at your booking-in appointment.

“The 21st to the 26th of June this year,” you swallow hard, trying to answer the doctor’s questions and ignoring the pit of nausea in your tummy. Nerves or pregnancy - who knows- either way, there is a comforting arm around your back and your right hand is being lovingly squeezed by Pero.

“Okay, do you both live at the same address?”

“Sí, for the past two and a half years at that address and then a year together while you finished uni and a year before that in Spain,” Pero responds.

“And are you daddy?” the midwife questions Pero.

Without a moment’s hesitation, your boyfriend responds, “Yes, I am.”

“Fabulous- I have a section of notes for you to fill out here whilst I go and take some measurements of your partner,” the midwife hands a few sheets of paper to Pero, as she scoops the urine sample from the table and gestures for you to join her.

Following the midwife as she sweeps out of the room to another curtained off area, she points at a plastic coated chair for you to sit in, “Pop yourself there- I’m just going to check your blood pressure with the cuff. I have to ask you some questions away from your partner too.”

“What kind of questions?”

As the cuff tightens around your arm, the midwife looks you straight in the eyes, “I have to ask you - are you at risk of any physical, emotional or sexual violence?”

Not missing a beat, you exclaim with a snort of laughter, “God no! He looks tough but he’s soft as butter.”

“He’s never hit or coerced you in any way?”

“Never.”

“I have to ask and you need to understand that sometimes relationships change during pregnancy. The slightest sign of anything changing, I will give you a list of numbers to call.”

You nod numbly, suddenly terrified for all those put at risk by partners at such a vulnerable time. Thinking of your grumpy Spaniard as your weight and height are measured, you consider how he has been taking even more care of you than before. Pero has always been thoughtful and considerate but with all of this, everything has increased tenfold. How, as soon as you’d decided that you were on board with keeping the pregnancy, he’d run out and buy prenatal vitamins. How every morning, he’s brought you a tablet, a drink and some toast (being one of the few things you can currently keep down). When you’re being sick, he’s held your hair back and even washed it that time he wasn’t quick enough.

The thought of any less didn’t bear thinking about. Roughly a week after finding out you were pregnant, the nausea started, and seriously, fuck the person who named it morning sickness. It is more like every moment of the day sickness. Brushing your teeth sickness. Smelling someone’s coffee sickness. The world currently is awash with a riot of smells that grossly offend your olfactory senses.

Returning to the small consulting office with the midwife, you see Pero’s head snap up in your direction, his hand instinctively reaching out to you as you enter. As you sit beside him, he curls you into his shoulder - pressing his lips into your hair.

“Okay, so here are some important dates and information for you. The hospital has already generated dates and times for your ultrasounds,” the midwife passes you an appointment card across the table as you notice Pero quickly tapping away at his phone calendar, “Keep your notes with you at all times as if you need any emergency attention, all your info will be there for medical professionals. Well, I look forward to seeing you in these corridors in a couple weeks for your scan. Any questions, please do get in touch.”

Still buried in Pero’s side, you walk into the neon lit corridor away from the kindly midwife. His fingers lazily stroke your arm as you clutch the plastic folder of notes to your chest.

“Querida, I need you to come out of your head and talk to me. I know you’re struggling and it isn’t too late if you want to change your mind,” Pero’s voice gently hums in your ear.

“I can’t find the words.”

✪✪✪✪✪

The elephant in the room, or rather your womb, hasn’t changed since your initial appointment. At least today, you get to see the alien invader. Sitting in the hard plastic chairs of the ultrasound waiting area, your fingers are entwined with Pero’s - him communicating with you via a form of loving Morse code - tiny squeezes and taps telling you how much he loves and cares for you.

The technician comes out of their room and briefly nods in your direction for you to follow them. After clarifying some details, they ask you to jump up onto the examination table, “Okay, so according to your notes, you should be roughly twelve weeks now so I will be doing a trans abdominal ultrasound scan. Can you pull your top up and tuck the waistband of your trousers into your knickers, please?”

You flinch as the gel is applied to your tummy but the chill you expected never comes, “Oh! That’s warm - I was expecting it to be cold like in the films.”

“No expense spared in the NHS,” the technician winks at you. “We have gel bottle warmers - it’s the little things.”

Pero, who barely let go of your hand to sort your clothes out,is holding it tightly once again. His arm is resting upon the pillow behind your head as his fingers tenderly play with your hair. Nodding at the sonographer, he grunts, “What are we going to see today?”

“All being well,” a flush of cold runs through you at those three words. You’ve spent so long coming to terms with your decision to keep this pregnancy that you haven’t even considered that it might not have progressed in an expected manner.

“All being well, this is mainly a dating scan. So we check that the dates from your LMP match with the size and development of the embryo. We also look at the Nuchal translucency, which we analyse for Down Syndrome. It’s also to make sure that the embryo is growing in the right place and to see how many babies your partner is carrying,” the technician kindly explains with a grin that quickly drops when they see the fierce look of protection upon Pero’s face.

“Are you ready?” you nod in the direction of the technician, “Okay, so this might be a bit uncomfortable as I have to press quite hard and I know your bladder is full.”

As the probe passes over your tummy, your eyes move from the masked face of the technician to the screen to your right. Suddenly, their hand stops. “There you go.”

There is a something on the screen.

A definite something.

A something with arms, legs, a tummy and a head.

A something that has a flicker deep within their chest.

“Dios mío. Vamos a tener un hijo Oh my god, we’re going to have a baby,” Pero gasps - his face full of awe and wonder, “Look what your body has made, hermosa. It has taken a grain of sand and created a pearl. Oh my clever girl!”

A watery, teary laugh spills from your lips as you stare at the wriggling alien upon the screen - its limbs stretching and curling up, albeit the movements too tiny for you to feel yet, “Look what we made.”

“It’s all looking good here,” the technician says with a smile, “From these measurements and the dates you’ve given, you’re looking at a Spring baby - 21st of April. New beginnings and all that. You’re measuring at 12 weeks exactly right now and the baby is measuring roughly the same size as a passion fruit.”

A snort comes from Pero, “That’s apt.”

“Would you like a couple of photos? I’ve managed to get one where it looks like your baby is waving,” the technician asks as they hand you some tissue to wipe the gel off.

Pero wordlessly raises his eyebrows at you to check as you nod at the technician - tears streaming down your face, “Yes please. Do we pay for them at the front desk?”

“Yeah. We will see you in a couple of months for your twenty week scan. Congratulations to you both,” the technician reaches out, putting their hand upon your shoulder as they pass you the prints.

Walking out of the room in an awestruck silence, you thread your fingers through Pero’s as the pair of you walk silently through the brightly lit corridors of the hospital towards the exit. As the summery air hits you, you turn into Pero’s chest and sob.

“Hey, mi amor, what’s going on?” Pero envelops you in his arms.

“Everything.” Your legs feel like jelly beneath you as thoughts race through your head at 100 miles an hour.

Pero gently guides you to a nearby bench that is free from smokers, brushing at the surface before letting you sit down. An arm instantly snakes around your slightly thickened waist and you slump into his side - relieved to have somewhere stable to rest before continuing your journey.

“Talk to me, hermosa,” his voice soothes into your ear, “I know my default is to want to fix things but if you need me to just listen, I can attempt to do that too.”

“I’m so scared. Everything is swimming inside my head,” you splutter tearfully, “Like when you see everyone in films and in books, they’re instantly over the moon that they’re having a baby- even if like us, it wasn’t exactly planned.”

You spin towards him - taking his hands in yours, “And, this isn’t me regretting my decision to keep it. I just thought I’d feel different. I mean, aren’t you meant to feel a massive rush of love when you see your baby? ‘Cos all I felt was relief that there was a baby there and the whole thing wasn’t this psychosomatic acid trip.

“It’s too early to feel any flutters and for just over a week, I’ve not had any sickness. I don’t feel as tired, my boobs are bruised from where I’m constantly poking them to see if they’re still sore and that’s fucking scary because what if…” Your hands fly to your face to cover the next onslaught of tears.

“My love, I wish you spoke to me more. I know I said I’d listen and not try to fix it but there’s one bit I can explain as I know it from Gloria,” he smoothes a piece of hair behind your ear before continuing, “So whilst the lack of sickness can mean that things aren’t progressing, they can also mean that the placenta has taken over.

“Gloria was terrified of the same thing whilst she was pregnant with Esteban - apparently, she had Mama and Antonio ringing all the early pregnancy units in Andalucía until they found one that would do an early scan to check everything was fine. And now look,” Pero pulls his phone from his pocket to pull up a picture of his nephew, “Look at my preciosidad!”

The sobs rebuild themselves in your lungs at seeing the soft as butter expression that melts across Pero’s face as he regards the squishy rolls of the baby upon his screen. Rivers of snot and tears diverge across your face that no tissue or sleeve would be strong enough to withstand.

“Mierda, I was trying to make you feel better and I’ve made you cry harder,” through your tear-filled eyes, you see his forehead furrow.

Tugging the back of his neck towards you, your foreheads clash awkwardly as you pull him into a hug, “Eres mi media naranja, mi cielito. You’re my better half, my dear. You do make everything better. It’s just bloody hormones.”

Pero’s laughter explodes into the hospital car park - making several other people turn to see where the juxtaposed guffaw emanated from. Using his thumbs, he wipes your tears onto his jeans, before leaning in to kiss you.

His lips gently transfer the saltiness of your tears to yours, before pulling away slightly, “I love that you remember my abuelo’s phrase. However I am not sure that I could be described as anyone’s better anything.”

“But I’m not either. Just glad we’re each other’s half orange.”

✪✪✪✪✪

A month later, you’ve flown out to the Andalusian coast to celebrate Jimena’s 50th birthday with Pero and your mum - Nana firmly and safely ensconced in a local kennels and unable to break anymore sofas (or collarbones as she has to your poor mum). Despite your trying to convince Pero that having a baby is a pretty strong thing to do, he has decided that it is the only thing he will allow you to do. Every bag is swept from your arms and there’s a part of you that’s a little surprised that he hasn’t started feeding you.

“Oh, there’s my bag,” your Mum turns to you, “Would you be able to grab it for me sweetheart? I don’t think I can manage to pull it from the conveyor belt with my arm like this.”

“Of cour…”

“No, I will get it,” Pero growls, “You need to rest.”

“Why would you…?” your mum looks utterly confused by Pero’s abruptness as you shoot him daggers from over her shoulder.

“Sorry, let me help you,” his dark eyelashes flutter hard as Pero considers how he almost gave the secret away.

Having gathered all the luggage, Pero continues to fuss around making your mum sidle up to you, “Are you ok? He’s treating you like you’re made from glass.”

Do you want to tell her in the middle of Seville airport? Is that how she should find out that you’re pregnant? You haven’t meant to keep it a secret, but every time you try to say the words, your mouth turns to wool and the words dry up. You’ve always had a close relationship since it’s only ever been the two of you but the thought of telling her this feels utterly overwhelming.

Just nodding and looping your arm through hers, you head towards the arrivals gate. Once through customs, you see the perfectly presented Gloria, Pero’s older and much beloved sister waiting with your nephew perched upon her hip as he twirls strands of her hair between his stubby toddler fingers. On spotting Pero and you, Esteban squeals delightedly in his mum’s ear, wriggling himself free from her arms and speed toddling to be adored by the pair of you.

With Esteban up high upon Pero’s shoulders, Gloria hugs you tightly - kissing you on the cheek- before stepping back. Her head tilts as her narrowed eyes drift down to your tummy, “Are you…?” Pero shoots her a look, which thankfully Gloria comprehends as she strokes your arm, “I think we have a lot to catch up on, mi hermana.

“Tú y yo necesitamos charlar, hermanito You and I need a chat, little brother,” You can’t help but giggle at the apprehension on Pero’s face as his big sister’s finger wags in his face, “Vamos, let’s go home. Esteban, ven aquí.”

✪✪✪✪✪

“How far along are you?” Gloria’s hand excitedly reaches out to stroke your tummy as you stand together, making Esteban’s lunch.

“Seventeen and a bit weeks. ‘Ría, I’m so sorry- we wanted to tell you all in person rather than via Zoom,” you quietly try to explain.

Gloria’s face burns with a fierce joy as she hugs you again, “You are forgiven just this once. I’m so happy for you both and I will finally be an aunty. Listen, use Esteban as a shield until you are ready to tell everyone, as that’s obviously a baby bump you’re hiding under that floaty dress and not a food tummy.”

The love you get from Pero’s family is immense. From the moment he brought you home - only two weeks after meeting him - they accepted you into their fold. You became an additional daughter to Jimena and Pablo, and another sister to Elisa and Gloria. Their family home has always been a complete juxtaposition to the quiet home you grew up in - one filled with chaos, noise and love with people spilling out of every room.

As much as Pero loves hard, you can see where he gets it from. Jimena is everyone’s favourite taskmaster, mission maker and font of knowledge - organising chores, education, food and fun in a similar manner to a drill sergeant - as she not only brought up her three but also the gaggle of local cousins, waifs and strays whose parents work full time. She always ensures that each of them is always fed, loved and brought back into line by her too. As the older kids got big enough, they were expected to muck in equally.

And where Jimena is the larger-than-life local mother to everyone, Pablo - Pero’s dad - is the complete opposite. The taciturn side of your boyfriend’s nature is from his papa - preferring to offer the spotlight to his wife. The workaholic part is also from him too as all you’ve seen Pablo do is work. Work at his job in the local council, work at fixing up their house and working at sleeping so that he doesn’t drop off in the middle of another dreary public servant meeting. Whilst around the house, he always has a child sitting quietly next to him watching as he fixes something but if they bring him a book, he instantly drops whatever he is doing and reads to them - his eyes sparkling as he creates silly voices for the characters.

As a result of their upbringing, Gloria, Pero and Elisa aren’t just a trio of biological siblings but rather three of hundreds. Trying to walk quickly up the roads near the Tovar’s home is impossible as everyone has to stop and say hello, which is highly amusing to watch your grumpy boyfriend attempting to socialise with others. A series of gruff grunts and solemn faced nods to the adults but it’s with the children that he comes into his own.

Children naturally radiate towards Pero. There is a softness they see that adults fail to read - their eyes blinded by prejudice against that scar and his scowl. Children instantly see Pero for who he is - the kindest, softest man hidden behind a tough outer shell for the adult world. When the two of you return home, he is regularly press ganged into football matches, teddy bear picnics and epic sword fights against imaginary monsters. You spend hours watching him play - looking up to occasionally try to pry himself away, only to be pulled ever deeper into the intricate storylines by a pair of puppy dog eyes.

There is no doubt in your mind that he will make a fantastic daddy to your little one. The future father Pero will be a firefighter to your child’s troubles and a light to guide them upon their journey. He will be their cheerleader and defender, forever ready to laugh and play.

“Sweetheart, are you sure you’re ok? You keep zoning out. Have you been sleeping ok? Eating your veg?” your mum’s eyes search your face to try and find a sign of what’s bothering you.

“Yeah, I’m fine, Mummy. You don’t need to worry,” you smile as you pat her non-injured arm.

“Hah! I’ll never stop worrying about you - no matter how big you get. It’s the joy of being a parent,” your mum strokes your hair as she walks towards Jimena’s outspread arms.

She beckons you over next - Gloria taking her chance to walk between the pair of you, thrusting a dozy Esteban into your arms as you take your first step forward. With one arm around your neck, he buries his head into your shoulder - pretty much the mirror image of his uncle as he sleeps draped over you. Jimena narrows her eyes at her daughter, “Hey tonta, how am I meant to properly hug my other daughter if you throw your child at her?”

A series of looks pass between Pero, Gloria and you. A small nod from Pero has Gloria take a now slightly peeved Esteban from your arms.

“There’s something we need to tell you all,” Pero says as he slides his hand into yours.

An air of quiet perplexion falls upon the room as you finally find your voice, “I’m pregnant.”

An eruption of squeals, hugs and kisses fill the air as Pero and you have your cheeks pinched red with congratulations from your family members. Both mothers are in tears, Gloria is kissing smiles into Esteban’s hair, Elisa is bouncing up and down with joy and Pablo- he’s just gazing at you both proudly with shimmering eyes.

“How far along are you, preciosa?” Jimena asks, taking your hands.

“Seventeen and a half weeks,” you grimace slightly, concerned by how both she and your mum might react.

“What? But, you’re almost halfway through! Why are you two only telling us now?”

“Mama, we wanted to tell you in person. Not via the phone or Zoom,” Pero moves from your side to envelop his mum in a hug.

“My baby is having a baby,” your mum gasps between rattly breaths, “Sweethearts - why was this all a big secret?”

For want of a better way to communicate as your throat constricts once again, you shrug before balling your hands into your eyes to block the water’s pathways. Pero curls you into his chest and for a moment you shut out the noises of the room - comforting yourself by inhaling the scent of him as you bury your face into the fabric of his shirt. Whilst your face is hidden, the room thins out around you until all that remain are your parents and Pero.

Eventually, you pry your tear streaked face from Pero, although he keeps his hands upon you the entire time, “This isn’t how I expected this all to happen. It wasn’t planned or anything,” you utter to the concerned room, “I mean, that’s not to say I’ve never wanted to be a parent as I’ve always seen it as something that will eventually happen but not anytime soon. And now it is and I hate that there’s a part of me that feels like the baby has taken my choice in the matter away.

“And I know I have choices. I know I don’t have to go through with this pregnancy, but the baby is fucking perfect and I already love it so much. I just feel like I’m already failing at being a mum before our baby is even born.”

“Oh sweetheart, if you’d only said something. What you’ve just said, is exactly how I felt when I found out I was pregnant with you,” your mum confides, “I was younger than you, I spent my days drinking whiskey, triple espressos, riding motorbikes, teaching hot yoga and eating a lot of brie - all of which changed when I saw the plus sign on the stick.”

“Sí, I wasn’t anywhere near prepared for becoming a mother either, was I Pablo?” Jimena turns to her husband.

“No,” Pablo’s eyes crinkle as he chuckles in response to her question, “No, we were quite young when Gloria graced us with her presence - we weren’t married, so lots of raised eyebrows from family and friends at the time but I would say 31 years later, you did pretty amazingly.”

“Should have said that before now, tonto,” she pulls a face at her husband, “I think there is very much an image of what a mother should be - someone with their shit together, someone who has everything planned and for whom the baby is their main objective - their total be all and end all. To be honest, that’s total bullshit.”

A hearty chuckle comes from your mum across the room, “I couldn’t have put it better, Jimena. You don’t have to become all consumed with being a parent - it doesn’t replace your identity. It’s just another facet of being human.”

“I just feel like I’m a bit of a failure for not rushing to the rooftops to proclaim my joy.” The relief you feel is palpable as you finally acknowledge those feelings that have been bubbling away since that initial test.

“Mija, you do pregnancy your way - you’ve never been a shout it from the rooftops type,” Jimena smiles, “Let my boy wait on you hand and foot -as he better have been - and just keep putting one foot in front of the other. Pregnancies and babies are all different - as is the person going through them. You do you and if anyone gives you even the slightest funny look, you send them my way.”

“So this is why your clothes have all been a bit baggy…” your mum thinks aloud, “Do you feel brave enough for us to have a look at the bump?”

Pero strokes your hair, tucking a piece behind your ear before leaning forward, “You don’t have to - it’s up to you.”

“No. I think I’m finally ready,” as the words escape your lips, you blink knocking weighty, happy tears from your lashes. Pulling the skirt of your dress tight behind your back, the outline of your bump is clear for everyone to see. Jimena’s hands clasp in a wordless prayer as Pablo pats his son on the back.

Your mum hugs you one armedly, “Oh baby, it feels like yesterday that I was looking at my bump that nurtured your perfect self and now look at yours. I feel like I might explode with happiness.”

At that, Esteban toddles back into the kitchen, signing his hunger at the gathered adults. You sweep him up in your arms and throw open the fridge in search of some food for the hungry boy - a seeming speciality of the Tovar’s. Jimena sneaks up behind you as you prepare him a plate of fruit, “You’ve got this, you know. It’s more natural to you than you realise.”

✪✪✪✪✪

Laughter and chatter fills the air along the multiple dinner tables of varying heights that are lined up with military accuracy through the street in front of the Tovar’s home. Their surfaces are burgeoning with a thousand dishes, breadcrumbs and splodges of wine upon the once crisp white tablecloths - the remnants of the veritable feast for Jimena’s birthday. A multitude of mismatched chairs groan beneath the weight of full, happy tummies as the revellers enjoy the late afternoon sun of the sobremesa, sitting back amongst the wreckage of crumpled napkins and half-eaten desserts to enjoy the gossiping, jokes and love of each other’s company.

When Pero finally breaks away from the football tournament that has started alongside, he grabs a delicate etched glass next to your plate, filling it with singsong ice before taking a much needed gulp. A small trickle evades his mouth and as you reach up to brush it away, the corners of his mouth curl further. Pero catches your hand as you go to take it away, kissing your wrist then leaning forward to whisper in your ear, “Fancy a walk, hermosa?”

As you nod in agreement, your eyes sparkle excitedly at the thought of some much needed alone time with your boyfriend. Some time away from all the tías, their prodding fingers and old wives tales about pregnancy - all of the well meaning stares at your virtually non-existent bump trying to work out the gender of the alien growing inside you. Jimena, Gloria and Elisa have been fending them off making excuses as to why they need you to help. Well, Gloria and Elisa are doing that. Jimena just growls at them to back off.

Mopping his brow on a used napkin, Pero waves at his mama before signing over the heads of the tías that you were going for a walk. The wink that Jimena sends back suggests that she's happy that you make this small break for freedom. Pero holds his arm out for you to join him but as you wrap your fingers around his bicep to stand up, a tío comes over and starts to harass him as to when he will ask you to marry him. Thankfully, Pablo comes into his own and diverts the attention of the drunken sun-kissed man by talking about the prices of this year’s Rioja.

The noise gradually ebbs away as you slowly walk away from the party, the clatter of revellers and music exchanging for the distant calls of gulls and gently lapping waves. Reaching the path on the alcantilados, you both make your way down the narrow footpath towards the caleta below. As the rugged rock makes way for softer sand, your feet are grateful for the change in terrain. The cove at the foot of the cliff has sand that is the most gentle hue of gold - almost earthen and muted making it the humblest star of the scene if it wasn’t for the late September sunlight causing it to glisten and glow.

This is the beach where Pero spent his childhood - days of trying to dam the sea by building walls of sand, building dens of driftwood and uncovering the treasures hidden within the rock pools. You see him revert to that little boy as soon as his feet hit the sand - shells are squirrelled away in his pockets, along with what could be record breaking skimming stones and after knighting him with a polished piece of sea debris, you get shyly crowned with a tiara of finely woven seaweed.

The siren song of the tide calls to you as you walk ever closer to the sea lace edged shore as Pero pokes curiously at a marooned jellyfish. With your shoes long since abandoned to enjoy the remaining warmth through the soles of your feet, you step into the oncoming waves where the water cools and sticks the gauzy fabric of your dress to your skin - the oil of the food and dry, dusty heat of the day being rinsed away by the salty water. You keep walking until the water reaches your middle, cradling your tiny bump.

“How are you doing, mi sirena my mermaid?” a gruff voice questions from the shoreline.

Turning your head towards Pero, a breeze catches your hair, making it ribbon across your face. He walks a little way into the water with his hand outstretched towards you to join him. As you wade back through the water, you see a tic of hunger flash across his face, “What’s going on, guapo?”

A small smile plays upon his lips, “You’re so incredibly beautiful. I didn’t think it was possible for you to become more beautiful but everyday, as your body changes - watching your breasts and tummy swell with my baby it’s hard to keep my hands off you.”

“And my bum,” you add, grinning.

Pero frowns slightly at this, “What about your bum?”

“My bum is growing too.”

“I have no complaints,” to prove his point, he drops to his knees in the gently foaming sea and bites your bum to punctuate his sentence.

“You know the caves in the cliffs used to be everyone’s make out spot as a teenager,” he adds grinning.

“Are you trying to rediscover your youth?”

“Damn straight!” Pero virtually scrambles across the sand as he pulls you over to one of the larger caves that carve their being into the rocky monoliths.

On hearing your rapid breathing, he has the decency to look slightly ashamed, “Let’s see if we can change the reason for being out of breath, hermosa.”

He suddenly takes you by your hips, pinning you with his own against the rocky outcrop - your tummy just carving the smallest space between the pair of you. As you stare at him, he smiles at you, running his hands up your arms before placing each one around his neck. You take advantage of this by stroking the glossy dark curls at the base of his hairline, enjoying how he keens and softens into your touch.

Pero’s eyes do not falter from your face once as his large, warm hands find your thickened waist. His breathing starts to match yours as he leans in closer, brushing a soft kiss against your lips but just as you go to deepen the kiss, he pulls slightly away.

“Don’t you fucking dare stop.”

You tug the back of his head towards you, causing your lips to crash together clumsily before you find that well known rhythm that your lips have danced many times before. His fingers claw at the material of your dress, desperately searching for traction upon your skin, trying to haul the soaked material up and away from your body as it sticks and clings to every curve. Pero groans inside your mouth when his hands finally find the soft flesh of your thighs. Pressing his weight into you, he pulls away from your mouth to catch your bottom lip in his teeth before pressing sweet kisses along the most sensitive point of your neck.

Sandwiching his thigh between yours, you fight the urge to grind down upon it.

“You feel so warm,” he breathes into your ear as your hands run up and down, stroking his broad back through his shirt as you pull yourself into him.

Groaning at the contact of your body with his, he runs his hands up your thighs blindly until he reaches your bum cheek and squeezes. You curl one of your legs around him so that he’s now holding you up against the uneven surface of the cave wall. Your hands find his face as his lips find yours in a passionate flurry of desire.

“All I can feel is how hot you are against my cock,” Pero growls into your mouth.

“They’re not just soaked from the sea either,” you breathlessly pant back.

“I want you so badly,” he mumbles thickly into your neck as the tip of his cock presses through the confines of his trousers into your soft, wet cunt.

Ripping your knickers from your sides in one move, you then hear his zip being lowered. One hand releases you as he drags the head of his cock against the sensitive soaked folds of your pussy.

Pero checks with you before going any further, “Is this what you want?”

“Fuck me, Pero,” as you growl those words at him, his cock pushes up and into you.

You can’t help but groan as he bottoms out in you, fucking you to the languid beat of the moon guided waves. After a few thrusts with your back against the wall, Pero slides out and within one smooth movement, he spins you around, placing your hands upon the craggy rocks and slams into you again. Sliding his hands under your dress, he scratches his nails up your spine until Pero’s hands come to rest upon your shoulders.

Within one smooth movement, he pulls your shoulders sharply upwards until you are completely upright, back flush to the warmth of his chest. Pero tugs at the top of your dress downwards until he finds your breasts, which he quickly releases from their satin prison. You realise that initially, he’s just watching your tits bounce as he thrusts - guiding one his hands from your waist to your breast you enjoy the groan he releases as he squeezes your nipple tightly, rolling it between his fingers. As you do this, his other hand lets go of your hair but its path surprises you. Instead of reaching for your other breast, it snakes down to your tummy. Tracing lazy patterns against the taut skin, he strokes and cradles his creation within you. The tenderness of his touch is in stark contrast to how wickedly he slams into you.

Pero’s teeth graze against your neck as the hand that was groping at your breast, slides down the front of your body, gliding effortlessly between your folds. Teasing your sensitive bud, he settles into a gently pleasing rhythm - working in harmony as your pleasure soars towards a delicious crescendo. You cry his name - the cave calling it back to you - as your fingers twist and coil in his hair.

With shorter, sharper thrusts, he barely withdraws from you as he chases his high - your echoey cries that sing his praises, brings him closer to his peak. As he finally releases inside you - filling your warm wet cunt with his sticky seed- he grabs your waist with that final rut. Beneath his fingers, a strange sensation bubbles through your tummy. Pero must have felt it too as he presses his fingers deeper into your flesh.

“Hermosa, was that your tummy rumbling or was that what I think it was?” Pero’s voice fills your ear with awe.

Tears fill your eyes as the realisation that the feeling of drunken butterflies in your tummy was in fact your baby making itself known. A drip of water trickles down your shoulder. You look up to the craggy ceiling to track its origin but on hearing the choppy breathing accompanying the droplets, you disentangle your bodies, turning to face him.

Cradling Pero’s head into your shoulder, you stroke his hair - scratching lightly into the curls as you rock him in your arms.

“I’m sorry, mi sol,” he mumbles thickly between sobs into your shoulder, “it had been a hypothetical baby until feeling it just now. I know I saw it move upon the screen but obviously it’s not my body that’s doing all the hard work of growing a human.”

“Shhhh, mi corazón. Just let those tears flow - I know you’ve been trying to hold me afloat since we found out,” you soothe into his dark curls, “You might pretend to be a machine to others but man cannot run on logic alone so let go. I’m here.”

Pero slowly pulls back up, rubbing the heels of his hands into his drenched lashes - dragging a deep breath into his lungs as he straightens up. Taking your hand, he guides you out of the cave, past the tufts of marram grass and back on to the dunes where you tug his hand to sit with you upon the dying warmth of the sand. He rests his head on your thigh as he nuzzles into your tummy - your salt patterned dress absorbing the dampness from his cheeks.

Listening to the soundtrack of the waves, you both watch the theatre playing out in the heavens above you. The sun is starting to set in the sky with vibrant golds, purples and oranges fighting their way across the most exquisite artist's canvas. It is almost as if the final rays are destined to create a work of art - one only offered to those who are open to capturing precious moments in their soul.

✪✪✪✪✪

Where the fuck is he?

“Are you ready?” the technician asks, nodding in your direction.

They must have caught how your brow furrows and your eyes flicker to and from the entrance as the sonographer walks over to the receptionist, beckoning you over.

“I think my ten o’ clock’s partner is running late - could you ensure that they are brought into room four, please?” they kindly inform the clerk.

“He’ll be the one barrelling through the door, scowling and growling. He looks scary but it’s just nerves,” you shake your head, “He’s stuck in Central as a meeting overran and then there’s been a signal failure on the tube.”

Relief floods your system as the secretary nods their understanding. You give the door one last look to see if there is any sudden appearance of Pero but other than a heavily pregnant person being ushered through by their partner, there is still no sign of him.

You try to buy a little more time by asking to use the loo. It wasn’t entirely a lie as between the weight of the baby upon your bladder and the bottle of water you’d been nervously sipping whilst you sat in the waiting room, you definitely needed to go.

“Is it ok if I use the bathroom before you start? I’m sorry- I know I should have gone before.”

The technician smiles kindly, “Of course you can. Turn right down the corridor and the third door on the left.”

Walking down the corridor, you keep repeating the instructions to yourself. Turn right down the corridor and the third door on the left. First door on the left. Second door on the left. Third door on the left - aha!

If peeing could be an Olympic sport, you feel there’s a chance you could be amongst the medalists. Whilst sitting on the loo, you also ensure that you read all the posters informing you about hotlines for domestic violence, substance addiction and support for debt management. When washing your hands, you follow the guidelines to the letter - as you turn on the tap - clearing your throat in the empty bathroom - you start singing Happy Birthday as you read down the poster.

Wet your hands.

Apply enough soap.

Rub your hands together.

Use one hand to rub the back of the other and clean between your fingers. Do the same with the other hand.

Rub the backs of fingers against your palms.

Rub the tips of your fingers on the palms of the other hand - swap and do the other side.

Rinse your hands with water.

Dry your hands completely with a disposable towel.

Use the towel to switch off the tap.

Come on, Pero. Please be there now.

As you re-enter the room, you see the technician tapping in the information into the machine as you watch the letters and numbers that form your name and date of birth appear on the screen. They look up, smiling sweetly before pulling the curtain around the bed to offer you some privacy as you sort out your clothes and clamber onto the table.

A sharp rap at the door makes both you and the sonographer jump.

“Do you reckon that’ll be your grumpy boyfriend?” they laughingly ask as they spin their chair across the floor to answer the knock.

Please be him. Please be him.

As the door is unlocked, you look up to see the broad height of Pero filling the doorway - chest heaving, hair ratty from sweat, huffing hot breaths between parted lips, shirt half untucked and loosened tie askew. In three purposeful strides, he’s cleared the room, standing by the head of the bed to press a deep, spine-tingling kiss into your lips. It doesn’t seem to matter when or where he kisses you, he always manages to take your breath away with each one.

“Lo siento, cariño. Perdóname,” Pero whispers gruffly in your ear, making the hairs stand up on the back of your neck, “I didn’t think I was going to make it. Monsters blocking my way at every turn.”

“But you’re here now,” you console, mopping an errant trail of sweat from his brow, “Thank you for trying so hard. We haven’t started yet.”

“Are you ready?” The sonographer asks, the bottle of gel poised to be squirted onto your tummy.

You nod, beaming at them as they squirt the warm lubricant onto your growing bump. Positioning the wand on your tummy with the screen tilted towards them, the sonographer moved it around a few times before tilting the screen back towards the pair of you.

“Okay, let’s see what we’ve got,” They turn up the volume on the side of the machine and the room is filled with a sound that beats any music you’ve ever heard before. A tiny tympanic metronome ticking away.

You close your eyes and allow the sound to wash through every inch of you as your heart swells with love at the sound your body has created. A light brush of your cheek causes you to reopen them to see the proud, tear-pricked eyes of Pero gazing down lovingly at you. Another softer kiss is pressed into your mouth before you look over towards the screen again.

“Baby’s awake,” the technician announces, “I think you’ll have a lively one on your hands as of right now, it’s almost as if they are trying to bounce off your uterine walls. Can you feel it?”

“Yeah, we first felt movement a couple of weeks ago,” you smile at the memory.

“Your placenta is in the perfect position for you to feel those early kicks. I’m not surprised you’re feeling the baby move so early. Would you like to find out the gender of the baby?”

Checking in wordlessly with Pero, whose face is painted with a soppy sweet smile, you turn back to the sonographer, “No thank you. Just glad to see that it’s a baby - it doesn't really matter what is between its legs.”

“Great stuff. Okay, so I’ll just talk you through what I’m looking at on the screen and what the measurements I’m taking mean,” the technician started pointing to things on the screen, looking back to check that you both understand, “Here we have baby’s head - you can see them yawning here. Hmmm, maybe they’ve finally worn themselves out and I can get some decent measurements now.”

You stop looking at the screen to drink in the rapturous look upon Pero’s face. His face losing the gruff grimace it usually carries as a shield against the world- he just stares at the screen with his mouth agape - the corners slightly curling up in the most innocent of smiles. Blinking hard, he reverently chuckles in your ear, “Pobrecito has my nose.”

“I love your nose. Well, until you decide to snore,” you wink, “It’s going to be in stereo soon isn’t it?”

✪✪✪✪✪

Manoeuvring your way through your narrow hallway has become something of the Krypton Factor - a labyrinthine puzzle that at eight and half months pregnant, you don’t have the energy to solve. It feels as though, if you stood sideways on with your back against one wall, your tummy would touch the other side.

“Fucking coats! How the fuck do we have so many fucking coats when it’s only two of us?” You grumble as you squeeze yourself through the hallway causing several to fall to the floor, from where you will certainly not be picking them up.

“Bienvenida a casa, querida,” You hear Pero mutter beneath his breath.

“What was that, darling?” you sarcastically shout back.

“I was just asking how your last day at work was, my love,” you look up from the chaos your tummy has caused to find Pero crossing his arms and leaning into the doorway of your living room, a mischievous grin upon his face.

“What’ve you been up to?” You narrow your eyes at the smile - how dare he find anything remotely amusing as you lug around his bloody heffalump of a child.

Pero’s dark curls shake back and forth at you, “Nothing malicious, querida - dinner’s ready when you are.”

Walking into the bedroom, the sight takes your breath away. The bedside crib has been put up and is ready to be fixed to the side of the bed with the blanket Jimena crocheted for the baby on top. Your hospital bag is packed and poised silently by the bottom of the crib. Mountainous piles of baby clothes bought by your family and friends have all been washed and folded away into baskets on top of the chest of drawers. You sit on the edge of the bed where your pjs have been laid out on the bed in readiness for your arrival home.

“Are you coming thr… Oh querida, I didn’t mean to make you cry,” clasping his large hand around the back of your head, he pulls you side on into his neck, “I just wanted to make you feel like you could totally rest until this baby decides to grace us with its presence. Maybe even read a book from your comfort pile of things to read?”

“I’m sorry I’ve been so grumpy,” you swipe at your eyes with your sleeves, “Everything hurts - my ankles feel so swollen that it almost feels like I’m walking in jelly with the amount of water retention there. I want to give an eviction notice to the baby because they are massively outgrowing their housing. I’ve just felt fidgety and grumpy all day - I don’t know what’s wrong with me. And I almost peed myself today as I didn’t realise that the loo lid had been put down in the bathroom at work as I can’t see anything below my boobs and belly.”

“You have had to put up with my grumpiness for what is it, four and a half years,” he strokes the saltiness away from your cheeks, “And I wasn’t pregnant for any of that. Just a grumpy old fool.”

He places a kiss into your hair before breaking away from your body to make a backrest from one of your pregnancy pillows. Helping you up from the bed, Pero lifts your jumper over your head and helps you pull your jersey trousers down before balling up and throwing them into the washing basket.

You pretend to give him a football commentary on getting them into the basket, “He shoots! He scores!”

Patting your tummy, he winks before adding, “I have previous…”

You hit him on the shoulder as he playfully tries to jump out of your reach, “Where do you want me, tonto?”

“Thought you’d never ask, hermosa,” Pero winks at you, to which your eyes roll so hard you almost see your optic nerve, “Get yourself as comfy as you can up here. Hey, I said as you can - I know you’re struggling, hermosa.”

Huffing and puffing your way clumsily to the middle of the bed, you nestle into the pillows Pero has arranged at the top of the bed. Squeezing out some of the lavender and rose cream from your bedside table, he takes one of your feet in his hands - rubbing the top from your toes towards your leg where he makes tiny delicious circles around your ankle. You cannot help but groan indecently as he digs his thumbs into the soles of your feet, beneath your toes.

“This is perhaps the one thing I will take away from those fucking awful Antenatal classes. How to create exquisite sounds from your partner through their feet,” Pero chuckles, smiling up at you through his eyelashes.

A sudden twinge in your tummy makes you jerk up with a start causing Pero to drop your foot in surprise, “Hermosa, are you okay? Braxton Hicks?”

“Yeah, I’m fine but no, that didn’t feel like a Braxton Hicks,” your nose scrunches as the sensation starts to subside, “It felt a bit more like period pain. I dunno, probably stood too much today and my body is complaining - either way, you’re slacking in your duties. Get back to work.”

“I’m doing this for five more minutes and then you’re eating dinner,” Pero wags his finger at you - to which you stick out your tongue and cross your eyes at him.

As he finishes up your other foot, you can’t help but smile at how his tongue pokes out between his teeth as he rubs his thumbs back and forth over your heel. Getting up, he wipes his hands on the towel hanging over the door before offering you a hand to your feet.

“Come on, let’s get some food in you,” he pats you on your bum as he nudges you in the direction of the dining table, “I made arroz al horno with lots of morcilla so you have lots of iron in you.”

“Mmm sounds good, although I’m not sure I have any room to spare even though my bump dropped yesterday,” you shout back towards the kitchen, kicking the inflated gym ball out of your way.

Ouch-

Another tightening that travels from your spine to the front of your tummy. Beneath your fingers, you feel your bump tighten and another dull ache spread through you. Looking at your watch, you realise that it’s been roughly five minutes since the first one.

Hmmm-

“You ok, cariño? You look deep in thought,” Pero places a heaped plate in front of you upon the table.

Nodding and grinning at him, you take a mouthful of food before half spitting it out as another ripples through your body.

“Querida, what is going on?” Pero’s eyes fill with concern, “Did I make it too spicy? I only put in a teaspoon of chilli flakes.”

“Just having some small twinges. Probably false labour pains,” you mention, loading up your fork with pork belly and rice.

Pero’s forehead furrows, his loaded fork poised at the side of his mouth, “How far apart?”

“Hah, never seen a forkful of food not make it to your mouth before,” you attempt to joke, dropping your teasing when you see the glower, “Roughly every five minutes but I’ve only had like three of them so it’s not time to do anything yet.”

“I’m going to ring the midwife,” Pero places his cutlery back down upon his plate, pushing his chair back from the table.

“Pero, you’re overreac…Oof!” the intensity of this one takes your breath away, making you grip the table edge until it starts to subside. “Yeah. Go ring the midwife.”

His face changes before your eyes - the concern is now mixed with a layer of excitement, as he bends over to kiss you deeply. You both take a moment just resting your foreheads against each other, Pero’s hands resting on your bump, as you muse, “You know, this might be the last time it’s just the two of us.”

✪✪✪✪✪

“Yes, labour has started but you’ve got a good while ahead of you yet, I’m afraid. You’re only 3.5cm dilated at the moment so the best idea is for you to go home, relax and try to sleep,” the midwife reassures you as she pats you on your shoulder. “When you start making a sound like you’re mooing or your waters go, come back and see us.”

Pero helps you pull your knickers back up after the exam and you can’t help but laugh and that’s it. You are giggling and contracting - desperately trying to hold your tummy as if a big laugh could suddenly expel your child. The midwife and Pero both look at you as if you’ve completely lost it so between contractions and cackles you manage to huff out, “I think that’s the first time you’ve ever put underwear on me and given the situation, it just really made me laugh!”

“Loquita,” Pero shakes his head, grinning as he slides your shoes back on.

“No, keep her laughing! Have sex if you feel up to it, lots of cuddling and go for a walk - it’ll all help that baby come Earth-side sooner,” the midwife recommends as they gather up your notes to hand them back to you.

As they whisk the curtain back, Pero leans in, tucking a bit of hair behind your ear, “You heard that - prescribed sex.”

You wallop him across his chest with the back of your hand, “Cheeky fucker.”

✪✪✪✪✪

Surrounded in a pile of pillows, you wriggle through the steadily increasing contractions - rubbing your tummy and breathing deeply. On your bedside table, Pero has laid out sweets, biscuits, a flask of tea and water. Everything except the loo, which you currently need. Doing an epic crocodile roll, you manage to spin yourself to a point where your feet hit the floor - now to just lift the top half of your body up.

“Do you need help, querida?” a voice thick with sleep mutters from the other side of the pillow nest.

“Just need a wee. Managed to get my legs down but am struggling to get my top half up.”

Pero rolls himself out of bed not too dissimilar to how you’re trying to get up. When awoken from a bleary eyed sleep, his long limbs remind you of a newborn foal with a similar amount of grace.

Having helped around the Tovar home with the endless amount of kids and when Jimena took in both hers and Pablo’s parents, Pero has a tremendous amount of time and patience for those who need him. As he gets you steady on your feet, a massive amount of pressure ripples across your tummy making you gasp and lean forward into him. As the contraction fades, you realise that you are both standing in a small puddle of water.

“Shit. Did I just pee myself? I am so sorry.”

“Hermosa, that doesn’t smell like pee. I think we should head back to the hospital,” Pero scratches the hair at the base of your neck, “Even if it was, you have nothing to apologise about.”

“Can you help me change my jammies?”

“Of course, cielito,” as he turns towards the drawers another contraction unfurls itself and forces you to your knees, “Okay, um, mierda. Um, pyjamas, bag and car.”

Having helped you into a clean, dry pair of pjs between contractions, Pero grabs your bag and the car keys and heads towards the front door to bring the car around. The door reopens only seconds later to the sounds of a cursing Spaniard.

“Pinche tonto del culo! Fucking idiot! Forgot my fucking shoes!”

✪✪✪✪✪

“Yup, 7.5cm. You have done so well to get this far at home for a first time mum,” the midwife grins at you.

“It hurts,” You breathlessly grimace through gritted teeth as your stomach twists and squeezes.

“Certainly smarts a bit, doesn’t it? But listen, afterwards there is so little you remember of this bit as otherwise, what idiot would do it again?” the midwife sets down their paperwork on the side, “I started running the water for the pool as soon as your partner rang through and it’s ready for you now, would you like to get in?”

You nod and feel Pero’s large, capable hands at the hem of your pj top, starting to peel them away from your sweat soaked skin. At the sensation of his fingers upon you, the tension seeps away from your body. Freeing you from your pyjamas, he gently guides you towards the water and albeit for the midwife, it might as well just be the two of you in that room.

Sinking into the water, the relief is almost instantaneous as gravity releases its clutches on you. Along with the gas and air, you feel yourself zoning out between the contractions. Pero quietly sits on the side of the pool, stroking whatever part he can reach of you as your body coils, twists and turns with each contraction.

✪✪✪✪✪

Getting into the pool caused everything to slow down. For three hours, you’d remained at a stubborn 8cm - steadily becoming more furious with your body for not progressing and putting that goddamn baby in your arms. The most recent check left you sobbing salty tears of frustration into the water around you.

“I have an idea - feel free to say no but I can see how much you relax when Pero touches you. What if he got into the water with you?” the midwife gently suggests.

A snotty nod from you has Pero stripping off his Henley and PJ bottoms and sliding in the water behind you. His arms wrap around you, giving you something solid to anchor on to.

“I’ve got you, hermosa. My beautiful, clever girl. I know you can do this.

“Your mum and my mama are currently watching films in your mum’s campervan out in the car park. Last time I checked on them, they were watching Casablanca and blaming their teary eyes on the love story. But I know that’s not true. They’re in here with you. Helping our baby be born.”

With those tender words uttered in your ear and the rock solid warmth of Pero against your back, something shifts inside of you. From your mouth what can only be described as a bellow breaks forth. You catch a massive grin break out across the midwife’s face, “Perfect, keep going Pero. Sweetheart, you’re transitioning. This is the last bit before you push.”

“Querida, I know I offered for you to catch up with a book in the supposed two weeks we thought we had but when the three of us go home, while you’re feeding the baby, I will read to you. We can all just get to know each other on our bed and instead of The Gruffalo, our baby can hear some magic realism instead.

“Remember how on the first night we met, you told me how you loved my constellation of freckles at the base of my throat? Well soon, we’ll get to know all the marks on our baby. Whether they have any stork kisses or birthmarks.”

✪✪✪✪✪

“¡Puje, mi cariño, puje! Push, my darling, push!”

You’re not entirely in the room as you use every last iota of energy to push your baby out. Pero’s and the midwife’s voices drift around you - in and out of focus as you travel up to the stars to collect your baby.

A hot, searing pain threatens to tear you in two as you hear the midwife’s calming words, “The head is almost out. Three more pushes and this baby will be in your arms.”

For the next five minutes you are almost stunned with the pain tearing through you. Physically and mentally, Pero supports and guides you in your ear, “Una vez más puje con fuerza, mi amor. One more big push, my love!”

With one final push, you roar, “GET IT OUT OF ME!”

Collapsing forward onto the side of the birthing tub, into your arm you whimper, “I can’t do this anymore.”

Then.

Then there is a baby crying.

Your baby is crying, clutched tightly in his daddy’s arms.

You’re not entirely sure who is crying louder - the father or his child who has just been born.

“You did it, mi amor,” Pero openly sobs as he passes you the only other piece of evidence from the broken sofa. Your baby.

A furious little boy is placed in your arms.His nose and the maker’s mark upon his lip are definitely his father’s but his eyes are yours.

“Hello baby. I’m your mami.”

✪✪✪✪✪

With all three of you dried off and some quick observations made of your son, your newly expanded family moves over to the double bed in the room. Your baby has only been held by Pero and you - the midwife unwilling to break that bond, only touching your son when absolutely necessary.

Of course, every touch of your new arrival is accompanied with a glower from Pero. In fact, you’ve noticed him frowning every time they touch you too. Even as she helped to deliver your placenta and checked for tears, you couldn’t help but giggle at the two furious Spanish boys - one howling as the other is scowling- across the room from you.

“Hermosa, I think he might be hungry,” Pero observes as he kisses your shoulder.

The midwife looks up from their paperwork, “Have you thought about how you will feed your baby?”

“I want to try breastfeeding,” you respond, “Not really sure where to start though.”

“I’ve finished here, so let’s try a breast crawl.”

You look over at Pero utterly perplexed, and the midwife adds, “Okay papi, I want you to place your baby on mami’s tummy. He should make his own way to the breast.”

Pero places the baby onto your still rounded stomach, just between your breasts - tummy to tummy, you watch as he starts nuzzling, licking and needling at your skin, desperately seeking out your nipple.

“He’s dribbling,” Pero grins proudly into the skin of your neck, “Just like his papa when it comes to food.”

“And boobs,” you chuckle as you kiss his forehead.

You both watch open-mouthed as your son mouths and wriggles his way over to your nipple - his mouth gradually opening wider and his head tilting towards it.

“Come on, chiquito. You can do it,” Pero cheers his son on quietly, “Cariño, he’s managed to squeeze some milk from you and is lapping it like a gatito.”

The midwife looks over and smiles, “That’s colostrum - it’s like full fat milk on steroids. Imagine the best milkshake from your favourite burger place with added vitamins. It replaces all the energy they lost as they deliver themselves.”

“Didn’t feel like he was helping,” you grumble.

A throaty chuckle vibrates in your hair, “You were incredible, mi reina. I’ve always known you were strong but that was incredible.”

And just like that, he latches. The strangest sensation flows through your breast - like a thousand tiny magnets have attracted the two of you together. It’s like a tapping sensation travelling through your nipple as he happily suckles from you, needling his minuscule fingers into your breast tissue.

You become aware of a trickling from your other breast, “Oh no, I’m leaking.”

“We can collect that, if you want? Daddy can then feed him later while you have a shower or sleep.” You nod gratefully at the midwife’s words, only looking up as the door shuts behind them.

“My brilliant girl. Look what you created. Sheer perfection,” Pero strokes the thick tuft of jet black hair upon the baby’s head, “Have you got any ideas about what we should name him?”

“I wondered if we should name him after your great grandad Javier, who fought against the Franco regime? The one that we found out fought alongside my Welsh great grandad.”

“Two farmers who fought fascists. A tremendous namesake and perhaps we could use your great grandpa's name - Dylan- as a middle name. Papá will be very proud,” he agrees as his lip trembles.

“Javier Dylan Tovar - that suits him perfectly,” as you mention his name, he disengages from your breast utterly milk-drunk with a sleepy, gassy smile upon his rosebud lips - his tongue still wiggling as if he was still feeding, “I think he likes it too.”

Pero brings his finger to turn your face towards him, tilting his head to kiss you deeply. As he pulls away, you hum with happiness - your eyes not quite reopening as you sink back into the pillows. Pero’s prickly chin rubs against your skin as he nuzzles into your cheek, gazing down over your shoulder at his tiny, wrinkly newborn son. Little Javier Dylan Tovar born two weeks early, who lies cradled between your breasts using your heartbeat as a lullaby.

✪✪✪✪✪

“Two cups of finest NHS tea and some biscuits for you both,” the midwife offers as they re-enter the room, “There are also two charming ladies offering us quite a spread of food in the waiting room. I think they’d love to meet the new addition but I can hold them off until you’re ready.”

“Oh, they decamped from the campervan in the car park?” Pero chuckles.

“Our mums were in the camper?” your eyes fly open at this information.

“Do you not remember? I told you when I got in the pool whilst you were delivering Javier,” he questions as you shake your head at him wide eyed.

“Nope,” you pop the p, shaking your head at your lack of memory, “I know you caught Javi, but I don’t actually remember you being in the pool with me.”

“Told you that you’d forget,” the midwife smiles kindly at you, “Now about the granny and abuela out there - want me to hold them off or are you ready for visitors?”

“Let them in,” you stroke the velvety, wrinkly skin on Javi’s back before sending a look - that look - at Pero.

Jimena strides into the room first with that look of fierce pride upon her face that you know so well, her mouth slightly twitching as she takes in the three of you lying together on the bed, “Felicidades mijos. We won’t stay long. Just needed to see that you were both ok.”

“Pero, les traje ropa limpia y hay comida aquí para los dos, Pero, I brought you clean clothes and there’s food in here for you both,” half the height of her son, Jimena seemingly towers over him, “Mijo, qué pasa?”

Throwing his legs over the edge of the bed, he buries his head in his mum’s shoulder, “Mamá, gracias por todo.”

Ruffling and kissing her son’s hair, Jimena hugs him back as tightly, letting his tears soak into her shirt.

Your mum gradually edges her way forward, “Who’s this?”

“Well, it’s lovely to meet you - I’m your daughter,” You teasingly hold out your hand.

“I see becoming a parent hasn’t quelled the sarcastic streak,” your mum rolls her eyes at you, “Do you have a name yet?”

You nod hard at her, “This is Javier Dylan Tovar.”

“Oh, beautiful family names,” she reaches over and strokes your cheek.

“Would either of you like a cuddle?” you offer the grannies.

“Well, I already have a baby giving me a cuddle,” Jimena ruffles Pero’s curls, “I will wait until you’re out of hospital. This time is so important for you to bond as a family. We will be there when you are home.”

“Same here, baby. I popped into your home and just made sure everything is ready for you. When you’re home, Jimena and I will be ready to play the proud grannies and let you and Pero eat, shower and sleep.”

“Come on, let’s leave them to it,” Jimena pats Pero’s arms, kissing him on the forehead as she goes to grab her bag.

You feel Javi start to stir and start to edge towards your other breast as Pero tucks himself back in around you both, his breathing becoming steadier. Eyes growing heavy, you hear the midwife re-enter the room and manage to pick out some of the chatter between the two mums and nurse as you begin to drift.

“You know my couch broke when they stayed, Jimena?” You hear your mum mutter, “Did some maths the other day. Not sure the dog did it.”

A chuckle breaks out between the three of them only broken by Jimena’s voice, “Little Javier is a worthy replacement.”

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nanatsumu · 4 years ago

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HIGH SCHOOL!SUKUNA x F!READER

thinking about bad boy itadori sukuna who all the kids at school try to steer clear from because they know he’s bad news and if you get involved with him then you’re bound to be tied with bad luck for as long as he lives. well, that is everyone except for the president of the student council who so happens to be his childhood best friend turned lover.

this is mostly written for my own self indulgence and to project my fantasies of having a boyfriend onto sukuna but feel free to treat this as any other headcanon! ps i am pretty sure canon sukuna would kill a baby at any given situation, but this is going to be a revamped version of sukuna written by yours truly ;) and its a high school au so sukuna won’t be a complete menace to society and will actually have a heart heh

also i didn’t realize how long this was going to be??? this is kind of all over place too because i just wanted to throw all of my thoughts onto this post so there might be some plot holes in this LOL

i feel like sukuna would be the type of bad boy who isn’t necessarily a bad boy but everyone at school just paints him as some kind of delinquent because of all the tattoos and piercings he has.

he actually shows up to school more often than you think he would (but that’s only because you’re in most of his classes so long story short: you’re his only motivation for attending class)

“forgets” to bring his work books to class more than usual (in reality he does this on purpose so he has an excuse to be near you) so he requests to sit next to you the entire class period so he can share with you for the meantime but whenever the teachers not looking he’ll go back to admiring your face.

his older twin brother, itadori yuji, is very fond of you since you three grew up together and you both had your chances of being a victim to his antics!

exhibit a: in middle school when you and yuji were watching tv together, the show you two were watching would keep switching to some wrestling match broadcasting on a sports channel and no matter how many times you turned the tv on and off, it just would not stop. but it wasn’t until you heard snickering from the kitchen that you realized sukuna had a spare remote and was the mastermind behind the whole thing.

exhibit b: sukuna and yuji’s mom was the owner of a bakery so every now and then she would have either one of the twins come deliver freshly baked pastries to your household! oh how wrong was she to trust her youngest. sukuna was now a freshman in high school, and by now you would’ve thought that sukuna would have grown out of his childish phase, but WRONG! sukuna was still a menace in your life even past childhood. so when you bit into one of the macaroons, instead of being hit with the overwhelming taste of [favorite flavor], all you could feel was the burning sensation of wasabi kicking into your tastebuds.

yeah after the whole wasabi macaroon freak accident, you stopped accepting everything sukuna offered to you and opted to only eating pastries out of the boxes that yuji delivered to you. (sukuna eventually caught onto this and was just TEENSY bit upset but he would rather down a whole tube of wasabi than to tell you upfront)

now, how did you two even end up dating??? oh boy now that is a story

you see, yours and sukuna’s dynamic growing up was similar to that of tom and jerry’s— you being jerry and sukuna being 10x worse than tom of course

but it wasn’t until a confession after school behind the cherry blossom tree that was known for bringing good luck to successful confessions that sukuna finally realized that maybe he really did like you just a little lot bit

sukuna overheard the boy who was planning on confessing to you talking to his friend group about how “sweet and caring” you are (although sukuna could argue otherwise, you were a little brat. *LIKE HELLO?!&:&:& YOU WEREN’T THE ONE WHO ATE A MACAROON FILLED WASABI**) and obviously his ears perked up at the mention of your name. he grew up with you after all so naturally he would be interested in a conversation that revolved around you.

but then the boys started going on about how “you looked like an easy catch” and how “your body was bangin’!” yeah no, that’s where he drew the line. sure sukuna was an ass and talked shit about you most of the time (in his defense it wasn’t like he was doing it behind your back) but if he ever caught someone else talking about you like that then he would be sure to give them a hard time.

he hid behind one of the bushes near the cherry blossom tree while the boy was professing his love for you. funnily enough, for a moment sukuna forgot why he was originally there because he was too busy trying to stifle a laugh as he watched the boy stumble over his words.

“okay shows over” sukuna thought as the confession was reaching its conclusion, but just as he was about to step in and give the poor boy a piece of his mind, he stopped in his tracks when he heard you roaring with laughter.

“did you really think that i wouldn’t hear about what you and your friends said about me earlier? you’re really pathetic if you think any girl would be easy enough to fall to her knees for you because news flash! you’re a disgusting pig and you deserve to rot in hell for speaking about a girl’s worth like that.”

“it’s kind of sad too, i thought you were a nice boy and i probably would have given you a chance but it seems like you’re even worse than scum! damn it, to think there was somebody out there who’s even worse than sukuna.”

of course sukuna was not pleased to hear that last bit, but he did have a proud grin forming on his face as he watched the boy run away, flustered from your rejection and the embarrassment he was put through.

“sukuna i know you’re hiding behind the bush.”

“huh? i came here way before you got here, there’s no way you could have seen me.” he said as he stood up to his full height.

“well, your laughter isn’t exactly the quietest, plus i can spot that hair of yours from a mile away.”

lets just say, sukuna was glad you didn’t ask him what he was doing there because he wasn’t sure if he could spare the embarrassment of telling you that he was planning on ruining the confession.

after that whole fiasco happened, sukuna started to feel(!&:&::&) things

like he started to notice how you styled your hair differently one day and how you switched to a new perfume that smelled like spearmint (was that weird? for sukuna probably not. he just excuses it as being highly observant)

you weren’t dumb either, you had a feeling sukuna was there that day of the confession because he too had overheard the conversation between the boy and his friends as well (you knew he was prideful and if you brought it up then he probably would’ve denied it)

so from there on out it was just mutual pining at the point except... well.... not really??

i feel like it was just an unspoken agreement between you two that you guys were “together” but not “together together” because he started to treat you differently than he would before. like for example, he’d carry your bag for you whenever you guys would walk home (yuji was confused by this at first because if anything, it would have made more sense to see sukuna make you carry HIS bag, but he eventually caught on to sukuna’s feelings for you because they were twin brothers after all), he started walking you to class more often even though his class was all the way on the other side of the school (you asked him why but he just shrugged and said he was just “killing time” so that he wouldn’t have to go to class and then you ended up scolding him), and there was also that one time you miraculously found a $20 bill in your backpack after mentioning to sukuna that there was this cute top you saw at the mall the other day but didn’t have enough money at the time to purchase it (you asked him about this but he said it was probably yuji, but you didn’t want to pry any further since you wanted to cherish the fact that sukuna cared that much)

but eventually you got sick of this whole push and pull game that you physically had to tug the collar of his school uniform and pull him in for a kiss (he was visibly shocked at this because he never would’ve imagined you as the assertive type. not that he was complaining though)

“oya? didn’t think you liked me this much kitten.” he said laughing while you rolled your eyes.

“as if, i got tired of you being a wuss so one of us had to wear the pants in the relationship.” you snorted, causing him to irk.

to be honest, your relationship with him is smooth sailing because you both were pretty chill people and you didn’t have to worry about him sneaking behind your back to see other girls because 1. literally all the girls at school are terrified of him and 2. he knew what you were capable of doing to him if you were to ever catch him cheating on you so he wants to stay on your good side

jealous and possessive don’t exist in his dictionary because he is the epitome of those two words. remember what i said about how your relationship is smooth sailing? i kinda lied.

he’s easily jealous like for example: when you were in english class and the teacher had you guys jot down some notes, you realized you forgot to ask for your pencil back when you lent it to your friend last period.

so you asked sukuna to borrow a pencil but instead of giving you a pencil, he called you an idiot for being so forgetful.

this makes you mad so you turn to your male classmate since he was sitting on your opposite side and ask him for a pencil instead.

sukuna was practically fuming the entire class period and once the day ended and you two were back at your place, he made sure to mark you real good. (oh he also went out to buy a pack of mechanical pencils to sneak into your backpack so that next time you forget your pencils, you’ll have 10 extra pencils sitting in your backpack as backup)

he’s not a big fan of pda in public, but on the chances he will show some of it, the most he will do is wrap an arm around your shoulder or waist whenever some dude is trying to hit on you.

BUT IN PRIVATE? better buckle up because your in for a ride wink wink

really likes putting hickeys on you to a fault! but will never put any visible ones on your neck because he doesn’t want your parents to view him as some kind of animal (but he has nothing to worry about because your parents really like him and are grateful for the fact that he’s very loyal to you, and you guys grew up together so it’s only natural that your parents are accepting of him since they already know he has a good heart underneath that tough facade of his)

oh, and yuji starts learning how to knock whenever you come over (or shuts himself in his room for the meantime if he thinks it’s unsafe to step out of his room) because chances are, you’re probably making out with sukuna in his room or smth.

now onto the spicy stuff

when you and sukuna first started dating, the first thing you told him was that you weren’t ready to have sex yet because you were nervous and sukuna understood and told you that he was willing to wait for whenever you were ready.

but when you were ready though, it was kind of spontaneous and you weren’t even wearing a matching pair of bra and underwear that day

you two were chilling in your room watching some stupid (according to sukuna) animal documentary when suddenly you felt his hand on your thigh

dating sukuna and all, it was normal for him to have his hands on some part of your body (whether it be your thigh or your waist) while you two were in bed.

but you were feeling a bit bolder HORNEE than usual so you began to leave a hot trail of kisses starting from his jaw all the way down to his neck.

sukuna obviously got the memo but before those kisses could escalate into something more daring, he asked you once more if you were completely sure you wanted to do it and once you gave him the green light, he was quick to tug his shirt over his head and pounce on you.

he started getting really into it though and accidentally bit your thigh which made you loose your high and scold him for it, but he let out a hearty laugh and muttered a quick apology before getting back into business

sike i lied, remember what i said about it being spontaneous? yeah, you technically didn’t loose your virginity to him that day because after he finished prepping you, you both came to a realization that you didn’t have a condom.

oh well, there’s always next time!

i think sukuna is a sucker for pet names: his favorite thing to call you is either kitten or princess and that’s it LOL he finds calling you baby or babe is a bit too cheesy for him

but he likes it when you call him baby or babe ;)

date nights consist of either staying in and cuddling in his room, going out for a walk at night (but very very late though. there’s still lamp posts that guide your way through the streets but it gives you the heebie jeebies to be out walking outside so late. sukuna always reminds you that nothing bad will happen as long as he’s right by your side), or just spending time with you and your families.

but if you’re really down to do it, he’ll probably initiate a make out session that’ll lead to y’all fucking one way or another (he only ever does it if he is 100% sure that you’re feeling it because he knows you get easily embarrassed if he asks you straight up)

(this part is mainly written for me because i love the idea of sukuna being over at family functions, but it can be applied as part of the general hc heh) if you took him to any of your family functions as your plus one for the first time, all the aunts and uncles would be a bit wary of him at first due to all of the tattoos and piercings he has (sukuna swears he has never felt so self conscious before) but after they strike up a conversation with him and find out that he’s actually a good guy who knows what he wants to do in the future and is very loyal to you, they start to like him more.

your little cousins adore him and love it when he comes over because sukuna is a very tall high schooler which makes him the perfect candidate as a monkey bar

so when you noticed that all the little ones started to climb on his body and mess around with his hair, you were quick to react because you knew your boyfriend was easily irritable which prompted you to think he hated kids

but there was nothing to worry about because when you saw him playing around with them and even crack a smile, you felt your heart grow fuzzy at the sight and you knew right then and there that you wanted to stick by sukuna’s side for the rest of your life

and in the unfortunate circumstances that sukuna is too busy to make it to one of your functions, the first thing everyone asks is “where’s your boyfriend?” or “where’s ‘kuna? i wanna play with him!”

so you have to facetime him and let him know that everyone is wondering where he is (your phone is dead by the end of the night because after the adults get their turn at saying hi to your boyfriend, the kids snatch your phone and end up talking to him for the rest of the night)

but in conclusion, everyone is waiting for the day he gets on one knee to propose to you and your parents are itching to get to get call sukuna their son-in-law :))

also don’t forget that your parents want two grandchildren: one boy and one girl!

#sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna fluff #sukuna hc #ryomensukuna #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen hc #jjk hc #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #anime #anime fanfic #jjk

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lokust · 3 years ago

Text

Plead the Fifth

—

——

———

“Mobius, get away from me!”.

This was ridiculous. Loki knew it was ridiculous. He was running from Mobius for no reason other than the fact that Mobius had started chasing him.

Er- well, he was pestering the agent quite a bit, but what did that matter? Serves Mobius right for not paying any attention to his dear friend.

“Oh come on, Loki. You can’t run around this library forever!”, he said back, trapping Loki as the God was between a round table and a wall with Mobius standing menacingly across from him.

Loki was unwilling to go anywhere other than the library as it was empty, closed for Mobius and Loki to do ‘classified research’ without the chance of interruption (or more so closed for Mobius to do classified research while Loki sat there for… moral support or something). Though Loki had taken to poking Mobius’s cheeks relentlessly with lidded pins.

He’d been told to stop countless times, and he’d agreed to it before going right back to it countless times, so Mobius finally had enough and he simply told Loki to run before he took off after the God.

“You know I’m gonna catch you, Loki. I don’t know what I’ll do when I do, but I will catch you”.

Loki almost relaxed hearing that, knowing Mobius didn’t have a plan, but there was a twinge of disappointment in his heart before Mobius suddenly shot around the small table. By the time Loki had processed it, it was a little too late.

He tried to run the other way but Mobius’s hand had just grazed his back as he turned and almost immediately, he was on the ground.

“Get off of me, you violent beast!”, he spat as he wrestled with Mobius on the ground.

They both grabbed at each other and Loki pushed away while Mobius grabbed and tried to pull him down.

After a couple minutes of fighting for the upper hand, Mobius finally had him down, “Look at that”, he said, still having to fight a bit with his friend’s swatting hands, “I caught a Loki”.

As he picked on the God for being caught, he managed to catch Loki’s side only slightly while pinning his hands down, eliciting a yelp and visible anticipation when Loki braced himself.

“Oh”, he started, “Correction… I caught a ticklish Loki”, he smirked down at his friend, watching the way his eyes widened in nervousness.

Loki shook his head and struggled to pull his hands away from Mobius again, “Not this again, Mobius. Come on. It wasn’t fair the first time and it’s certainly not fair now.”

Mobius hummed, “And why… exactly, hm? Why isn’t it fair?”

The trickster squirmed and writhed underneath his menace of a friend, “This place is ridiculous. I mean, if I had my magic, this wouldn’t be possible!”, he said defensively.

Mobius nodded, “Mm, yeah, I guess that’s true but you wouldn’t stop me then either, would you?”, he asked, smiling a smug grin as Loki’s face flushed red.

He furrowed his eyebrows to glare at Mobius, but his heart was doing flips in his chest while his stomach fluttered with little butterflies at the teasing, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Mobius laughed as if he was shocked, “Oh, come on, Loki! You do this little thing where you pester and prod at me until you get a reaction, and your eyes light up when you think I’m gonna retaliate, and then you just… deflate like a disappointing balloon when I go back to work”.

Loki huffed, avoiding eye contact with everything in him, “I do not pester-”, he stopped to rethink his statement when Mobius gave him a look of pure disbelief, “Alright. Maybe I pester you, but my eyes do not ‘light up’ and I don’t ‘deflate’. I’m the God of Mischief, Mobius. Mischief. I’m supposed to pester you”.

Mobius rolled his eyes, “Alright, then explain why you fight like a little girl”.

Loki made a face of confusion and suspicion.

Mobius let out an exasperated sigh, “Like you’re a little girl- You know what I mean, Loki”.

Loki shrugged, a mischievous glint shining in his eyes, “Well I wouldn’t know anything about throwing hands with little girls-”

Mobius huffed in irritation, promptly pinning Loki’s arms above his head, both wrists in just one of Mobius’s hands, “You’re doing it right now, Loki. You’re trying to provoke it”.

‘Yes, well, it’s working’

Loki’s face turned red at his own thoughts, but he hoped Mobius hadn’t noticed, “Oh you are truly ridiculous, Mobius”, he snarled, “I would hurt you if I truly fought you, and I certainly do not ‘provoke you’ into this… childishness”.

He tugged at his hands and arms as he tried to twist out from under Mobius, “Now would you please let me g-OH! NO. Mobius… no”, he writhed as a hand pinched at his side before it hovered menacingly over his ribs.

“No? You don’t want me to do this?”, he asked, dropping his hand momentarily, “Then fight me. I know you can. You could kill me right now if you wanted. There’s no reason you can’t get away from a few little tickles”.

Loki shook his head, “No, Mobius. I-I’ll hurt you, I won’t-”

Mobius laughed at the pitiful argument Loki was rambling out, “Ahh, I knew it.”

Loki swallowed nervously but he held up his defensive demeanor.

“You like it, Loki! Just admit it!”.

The God of Mischief huffed again, “I don’t. You’re crazy.”

Mobius smiled fondly, “I’ll get a verbal confession one day. For now, the unnatural red coloring of your… well your everything from your ears to your neck is enough of a confession”.

Loki stayed quiet, practically pouting at Mobius.

“Now”, Mobius said, lifting his hand once again, “Shall we get started?”

The trickster was mad. Yes. Mad. That was the word.

The word for when you’re laying underneath your best friend while his hand hovers menacingly over your ribs and you unsuccessfully attempt to bite back a nervous smile?

Yeah. Mad works.

“You know, Loki…”, Mobius started, his hand slowly descending towards Loki with wiggling fingers, “There’s one game a lot of people play, usually with their children and what not”.

Loki didn’t know where this was going, but he didn’t know that he wanted to as he stared at Mobius’s wriggly, clawing hand, anticipatory giggles bubbling in his chest.

“Maybe your older brother showed it to you, or possibly even your mom when you were much younger. Surely you’ve heard of it?”

Loki threw his head back and gritted his teeth when Mobius’s hand got close enough that it was just grazing the side of his ribs over his shirt, “Oh my God, whahat is it, Mobius?”, he wasn’t able to take much more of the anticipation.

Mobius smirked at him, “Someone’s excited to get started I guess”, he teased, pinching his ribs suddenly, just enough to make him yelp and tense his muscles, “Well, since you’re so eager, I guess I can go ahead and tell you, yeah? Yeah”.

Mobius placed his hand gently on Loki, leaning down close enough to the God that he could feel the anticipation and nervousness radiating off of him, “It’s a game that involves… a creature of sorts”.

Loki groaned as he tugged at his hands once more, just to test the waters, but the palm resting on his ribs suddenly became fingertips digging into the bones, “For fuhuhuck’s sake, Mobius, please, I’m nohohot a child”.

Mobius shrugged, “Well”, he said, his tone close to a whisper, “Nobody’s ever too old for the tickle monster”.

Loki couldn’t stop himself. He felt so warm inside. He was giggling and squirming and smiling like a fool as Mobius tiptoed two fingers up from his ribs to his armpit, where he opted to stay, circling just one finger around the hollow.

“Ihihihi hahahate you”, his face was, as Mobius said, unnaturally red as he tried to spit insults out through his laughter.

He couldn’t believe it.

He was loving this. The playfulness. The sensation. The warmth… and he couldn’t even bring himself to be in denial (at least not in his own mind. He’d never admit it to anyone else. Ever. He would deny it aloud until the day he died).

He writhed and giggled while Mobius teased his underarm, trying to curl his knees up to his chest and kneeing Mobius in the back.

Mobius jolted a bit and his hand stilled.

Loki froze, his eyes widening in pure fear,

“M-Mobius, wait, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, you were… well, it was, it-”

Mobius cut him off, “If there’s one thing I know about my dear creature friend, it’s that he does not like to be hit, Loki”.

Loki tapped his foot nervously and very impatiently as he waited for the inevitable. His nerves were already crawling.

It just wasn’t fair. Mobius knew he was just making the trickster wait for what he wanted.

“If I remember correctly”, Mobius started as he sat up a bit, tugging Loki’s brown slacks down on his hips just a bit to untuck his white shirt easier, “This was a bad spot”, he said it almost as if it was a question, slipping a hand underneath the fabric to tease at the bare skin.

Loki held his breath, shaking his head at the agent, “You’re delusional”, he said, his voice pitched much higher than usual due to the pure anticipation running through his body.

“Oh, I’m delusional?”, Mobius asked rhetorically, “So what about this?”, he said, moving his hand to scratch slowly and teasingly at one side of Loki’s abdomen, “This doesn’t tickle?”

Loki yelped, biting his lip and letting his head fall back as he fought to suppress all the laughter that wanted so desperately to fall from his lips. He shook his head, unable to speak without his words falling apart and breaking into giggles.

Mobius laughed, shaking his head a bit at his very flustered friend, “You just keep exposing yourself, Loki. What do you expect to happen when you lie to me about it- Actually, don’t answer that. I already know what you expect, and I know what you want”.

Loki glared daggers into Mobius, or he tried to; he wasn’t doing a very good job of keeping eye contact or… looking in Mobius’s general direction.

Fingertips traced and teased around his tense abdomen, the touch so light it was similar to that of a feather. He couldn’t help it. He just had to reply, “You ahahare the wohorst friehehehend!”

Mobius huffed out a small laugh, knowing Loki certainly didn’t mean that at all, “Oh come on. You love me!”, he said, tightening his grip on Loki’s hands as he started pinching and squeezing at his sides, “And don’t lie, I know you love the tickle monster too, but, I admit, I will be a little hurt if you start to like him more than me”.

Loki squealed and squirmed and arched his back while Mobius chose to skitter his fingers around the sensitive skin right below his rib cage, “I- Ihihihi don’t like ehehehither ohohohof you, you big ohohoaf!”.

Mobius faked a pout, “Aww, well that’s just not nice. That’s no way to talk to a friend- or two friends. Especially not in this position!”.

Loki shrieked as Mobius’s hand jumped from his rib to underneath his arm in an instant, testing a spot he’d never really tickled before.

The reaction was very rewarding. The noise that escaped from Loki was hilarious as the god arched and squirmed and pulled at his arms, “OHOHOHOH MY GOHOHODS, MOHOHOBIUS, NOHOHOHOHO!”

Mobius was shocked, but he continued to dig into the sensitive hollow, “No, Loki. Oh MY God- Gods? Whatever, this is the best! I mean… you are a god! And this is certainly not the weakness I expected from you”.

Loki tried to growl between his cackles but it was just coming out as a noise that seemed very confused in itself and what it wanted to be, as it was a mixture of deep belly laughter and an angry cat.

Mobius swapped methods, wanting to know which would tickle the most as he started spidering in and around the hollow gently and quickly, rather than digging in harshly.

The reaction was instantaneous. Loki’s eyes widened as the sensation worsened, the muscles in his arms burning as he ached to protect himself, “OH FUHUHUHUCK YOU! NAHAHAHAHA, QUIHIHIHIT IHIHIT!”

Mobius gasped, still clawing and skittering away at the sensitive skin, “You are so foul mouthed today! What has gotten into you?”

He stopped for a moment and Loki gathered himself, already having prepared a snarky comment, “Well”, he breathed out heavily, “Nothing that I’m aware of but there is a vertically challenged PLATINUM BLOND DEMON ATOP ME AT THIS MOMENT”.

Mobius scowled, “Okay, first of all, I am 5’11, thank you very much. I won’t take criticism from you. The word giant is in your title, alright… knock off Avatar? Second, it’s not platinum. It’s grey”.

Loki’s expression certainly externalized his sense of confusion, “Avatar- Never mind. I don’t care enough to know. You are short.”

Mobius narrowed his eyes, pushing Loki’s wrists down with a little more pressure and tightening his grip around them, “Loki, you’re so incredibly ticklish that I almost feel bad for doing this to you… but after that, I think I’ll enjoy it quite a bit.”

Loki swallowed nervously, realizing just how much trouble he was in as he looked up at Mobius with wide puppy dog eyes.

“There’s only one way to get me to stop now”, he spoke, his tone quiet but stern, “It ends when you admit that this was what you wanted in the first place”.

……

“Oh… fuck”.

________________________

Yes! We end with a cliffhanger and also, the idea of Mobius trying to fight a child (and losing) was hilarious to me, so enjoy that.

And don’t worry. There will definitely be a fic to fill in the blanks at the end of this one.

#tickling #marvel tickles #avenger tickles #tickle community #tickles #tickle fic #lokius tickles #loki is ticklish #ticklish loki #lee!loki #sfw tickling community #sfw tickles

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fallout-drabbles-n-stuff · 3 years ago

Note

abshwvshsh imagine Paladin Danse with Baby Fever.

Got alittle drabble?

*I got like an idea where Paladin Danse and Alex(fallout oc) go on a mission and end up finding an orphan baby and as Alex is taking care of it, Paladin Danse is like 😍😍🤩🤩. So yea lol.*

(I totally deviated from the prompt but I was hoping this would be satisfactory as well? 😅 if not, I'm more than happy to write for the original prompt, just send me another ask)

Perhaps this feeling was simply a product of the desertion he felt after exile.

You were so very kind to him. You were there for him when he had hit the lowest point fathomable, when his life as he knew it was ripped away from him and left him with this deep melancholic emptiness. It took time, of course, but like always- you were patient with him, truly there for him.

If asked, Danse wouldn't know exactly how you did it, but piece after piece you managed to put back together what he once felt was broken beyond repair. Maybe it was the way you valiantly fought to reassure his life's value, maybe it was the long days you spent at his side so he may not feel lonesome, but most likely it was the love you professed that let him know that if someone as wonderful as you could have such profound feelings for something like him...then yes, maybe he was truly worth more than he believed.

Nonetheless, there were still some times that Danse would sit in your cozy little home, a far off look in his eyes as he thought deeply about something you just couldn't quite put your finger on. Once, you would've been able to just look at him and know what troubled him- a trait he didn't care for in the slightest- but lately...he wasn't quite as easy to read.

His identity would forever be something he struggled with no matter how much progress the two of you made, this you knew and understood, but whatever was on his mind as of recent didn't seem to have the same effect. For instance, these moments you'd catch him in..he wouldn't look nearly as tense, which may be a fruitless observation to note- but hey, every little detail meant something with Danse. In addition to this, the proud ex-paladin would usually seek your comfort if his mind raced to such dark places and now he would only sit in silence.

Instead you were left puzzled, watching the man you love sit and continue on with his mental strife- only moving every so often to fidget with the glistening metallic band on his left ring finger.

You never would've guessed that the reason he was so deep in though stemmed from the child sitting on your kitchen counter, eating one of Danse's prized snack cakes with Shaun. The child happened to be one of the settler's kids, a little girl around six years of age- so far too young to help out in the farm, and too young to leave unattended..so naturally, with you being the bleeding heart you are, you agreed to help out the girl's parents and watch her every so often while they worked. Besides, after your marriage to Danse..and Shaun coming home, there wasn't very much adventuring going on anymore. It wasn't a big deal though, Shaun rather liked having company (even if he preferred hanging out with Duncan more) and having a younger child around didn't bother you in the slightest.

Unbeknownst to you, watching the way you cared for the two children really struck a nerve within Danse. It was almost enchanting to watch you fuss after them, leading his mind to wander off to the most fantastical places.

"Okay, Shaun, do you think you can handle taking her back home? Her ma and pa should be finished working out in the field by now. I'll send Dogmeat with you." You spoke, receiving a rather exasperated expression from your little boy as he gracelessly slid off the counter, feet landing with a soft *thud*.

He proceeded to hold a hand out to his much shorter, younger friend to help her down. "No problem mom..." He all but grumbled as he began to lead her out the side door. A blur of brown and black fur at your feet let you know your faithful companion was at attention and ready to escort the two children- a happy bark followed by the closing of the door eased your mind shortly thereafter.

Had it been anywhere else, you probably wouldn't have let Shaun leave without you or Danse..but given that the girl's parents lived two doors down- you didn't really worry. However, you DID worry about the ex-paladin.

With a casual sigh, you sauntered your way into the living room- only a little surprised when you realized your entrance hadn't done much to catch his attention. Regardless, you pushed on and decided to sit right beside him- smiling just the slightest bit whenever his gaze finally shifted away from his wedding band and to you instead.

"Alright." You began, making no qualms about scotching closer over to him until he instinctively wrapped an arm around your shoulder. "What's eating at you?" You simply prodded, head resting on his chest.

Danse visibly stiffened, as though under the impression that his silence went unnoticed. He couldn't have been more wrong- he knew better than to think anything would get passed you. Even if it had, the thrumming of his synthetic heart against your ear surely gave him away.

Before he dignified your question with a response, he shifted around so that he could properly face you- still holding you yet able to move his head in such a way that he might be able to see the way you'd react completely to what his next words were going to be. And…maybe to get your attention away from the heavy beating in his chest.

That's really when you noticed it. The fleeting look in his eyes, the unsteadiness of his breath, the slight pink shade decorating his nose and cheeks..Danse was nervous.

"This..I apologize but this going to seem completely out of the blue.." He finally spoke, sighing as he closed his eyes just for a brief moment- trying to collect himself so that his nerves might not get the best of him. This is a matter that he had been wrestling with for some time now, the last thing he wanted was to get so anxious that he couldn't speak.

Alas, calming down seemed to only get harder for him. True, it had only been a few seconds since he spoke but the way you looked at him, so concerned and so..sweet, made time slow down and his damned heart incomprehensibly race.

"Whatever it is Danse, I've got you.." Great- now that concern he picked up on was lacing your voice as well.

Was it truly necessary for him to complicate things to such extremes? It's not like the topic was completely alien to either one of you..and damnit, you're the one person he felt he could speak his mind freely to..so why wasn't this any easier?

Then came the words you never, ever, ever, would've expected to hear from his mouth.

With his eyes soft, and his voice even more so, Danse spoke. "I know we have Shaun, and don't get me wrong- I truly do love the boy as a son, my son...but have you ever considered what having a child of our own would be like?" It was in that instant that Danse realized how abrupt his words may have came out, that tender gaze of his slowly retreating to look anywhere but you. "Forgive me, it's um..it's selfish of me to anticipate you being ready for such a thing, especially considering what we have both went through this past year.."

Unable to focus on much else but the drumming noise inside your head from the profound beat of your heart, your trembling hands grabbed at his and squeezed.

"You know..you have a bad habit of cutting me off before I can tell you what I think, sir." You laughed, trying to distract from the tears threatening to well up. Sure, it may have been a slight over reaction but..with Danse wanting a family..it was one hell of a step in a good direction. "What happened in the past..well, it should stay there. The two of us have something most people never get, we have the ability to start anew and leave our troubles behind us, Danse. So...god, I don't think much else would make me happier than having a baby with you.."

Once the ex-Paladin got over the initial shock of your words, he all but mauled you in a breath-stealing kiss- his arms wrapping tightly around you to the point of making the promise of breath a distant memory. Nonetheless, you couldn't help but enthusiastically kiss the man back...at least until-

"MOM! Gross!!" Shaun shrieked, having opened the door at quite possibly the least opportune time. Great.

Danse pulled back with a shameful blush on his face, averting his eyes from the young boy who was now fake gagging as he walked off to his room.

“Guess we oughta see if Mac is up for letting Shaun stay over with Duncan..hm? You know, just to get a head start..” to this, the ex-paladin’s adorable blush deepened tenfold.

Fantastic....or rather...outstanding.

#so this was no small drabble #ayyyyy #I love him so much #fallout 4 #fallout #paladin danse #paladin danse x sosu #paladin danse x reader #Danse

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somewhatgreatexpectations · 4 years ago

Text

I'll Stand By You (Wanda Maximoff/ Reader)

Hello! We've reached Halloween in Westview. I hope you all enjoy!

Songs used: "I'll Stand By You" by The Pretenders (1994) and "This I Promise You" by NSYNC (2000)

Summary: Westview is slowly falling apart as Wanda worries reader is drifting away. With some sibling chaos. I'm bad at summaries. :)

With a sigh, you began making your way downstairs, following the sounds of the commotion. Wearily tugging at the skin-tight suit that you couldn’t seem to avoid wearing for the day.

“Woah, smokin’ costume, sis-in-law!” You heard Pietro whistle which only made you sigh again in exasperation. “If you weren’t already married to witchy over here…” He trailed off as he leaned against the wall.

You rolled your eyes, biting back a chuckle when you saw Anna smack his shoulder. “That’s my sister you’re talking to.” She warned, glaring at Pietro who just laughed in response.

“You and Mom look nice, Momma.” Billy said sweetly with a smile which you easily returned. Reaching over to affectionately ruffle his hair.

“Yeah, Mom is old Red Riding Hood and you’re old green riding hood, Momma.” Charlie said with a laugh, looking at Pietro for approval who merely held up a hand for a high five. You clutched your chest to feign hurt and gave Anna a disbelieving stare when she began to laugh as well.

Much to your annoyance Pietro then turned his attention back to you. “Let me guess, you’re a… woodland fairy queen? Or the woman of my dreams?” He finished with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

“Pietro.” Wanda warned. Anna smacked him in the back of the head.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I was going for, Pietro. I live to visually please you.” You quipped back sarcastically.

Before he could say anything else, Wanda walked over to you. Leaning in and pressing a kiss to your lips which you shortly returned. “Thank you for humoring me and wearing this… dramatic get-up, honey.”

“Well, there were no other clothes in my closet, so…” You replied flatly, watching the way Wanda’s smile faltered. Unable to stand seeing the look on her face, you attempted to lighten your tone. “I knew you had a thing for me in tights.”

Her shoulders relaxed when you posed dramatically and sent a teasing smile her way. “I have a thing for you in general.” Wanda said in a husky voice, a small smirk on her lips.

Leaning in closer you matched her smirk, “What a coincidence because I just so happen to have a thing for you as well.”

Wanda let out a quiet giggle and you smiled adoringly at the way her nose scrunched. As Wanda was leaning in again, you turned to face the rest of the family in the living room. Wanda sighed.

A short laugh escaped your lips as you watched Billy and Anna cover Pietro and Charlie’s eyes in a desperate bid to win the video game that they were playing. The laughter faded when you watched Pietro pull out sodas, teaching the twins how to chug the can and then burp much to your annoyance. Anna threw her own can at Pietro’s head.

“It’s wonderful that our siblings are so…” You paused as you watched the four begin wrestling for the remote. “Great with kids.”

Wanda nodded unconvincingly as she watched the scene by your side. “Yeah... They’re just full of surprises.”

Lightly you pat her shoulder as you stepped around her. “Well, good luck with them tonight. I’m sure it’ll be entertaining to say the least.”

Wanda turned to face you, a frown tugging down at the corners of her lips. “What?” She followed after you as you made your way to the door. “What do you mean? You’re all dressed and ready to go.”

You gestured vaguely to yourself. “I’m undercover. Ellie said there’s been mischief running amuck in the community and she suspects neighborhood watch. An inside job, Wanda! I'm an investigative journalist now.” Dramatically you tossed your cape over your shoulder for emphasis.

The frown on Wanda’s face remained as she shook her head lightly, “But that’s not what you’re supposed to…”

Skeptically you eyed Wanda. “What do you mean supposed to?”

“You didn’t tell me you had plans.” She eventually grumbled in annoyance, ignoring the question entirely.

“Well, I’m telling you now.” You replied with a small shrug.

Her eyes gleamed with frustration as if she couldn’t believe the words you were saying. “It’s the twins first Halloween. You have to be there.”

Anna and Pietro stepped over before you could get a word out. “Woah, what’s the big deal?” Pietro asked as he teasingly placing his hands in between you both like you were about to start fighting. “I’m much more fun than Y/n. No offense, you’re still smokin’.” He winked your way and you gagged.

Anna pushed him away and turned to Wanda with a reassuring smile. “It’s okay, Wanda. We can help with the twins. It’ll still be fun.”

“Uncle Petey to the rescue, huh?” Pietro added with a goofy grin.

You clapped his shoulder and turned to Wanda. “Sure… Petey. Problem solved. Have a spooky time tonight, kiddos. I love you!” You called out to Billy and Charlie who were engrossed in their game.

“Love you.” They called back distractedly, never taking their eyes off the screen.

Hesitantly you stepped back over to Wanda, ignoring the gloomy expression on her face as you lightly caressed her cheek.

With a small smile you leaned in and kissed her other check. “Be good.” You whispered before pulling away. Once again, you posed dramatically, smirking when Wanda begrudgingly replicated the action. “Time to solve this case!” With a final toss of your cape you left.

Wanda’s shoulders drooped slightly as the door closed behind you. Seconds later, you poked your head back in. “I forgot to say… you look beautiful, my love.” You called out sincerely, sending a wink Wanda’s way before shutting the door behind yourself again.

The blush on Wanda’s cheeks made both Pietro and Anna smirk in amusement.

____________

“Unleash hell, demon spawn!” Pietro called after the twins with a smile as they walked off to one of the houses with Anna. He furrowed his eyebrows questioningly when he noticed Wanda staring at him.

Wanda attempted to force an easygoing smile on her lips. “Do you remember when we were at the orphanage and there was this song that we used to sing? The one that would play on the radio whenever the soldiers radio frequencies would interfere with the our frequencies? It went like,” Pietro just stared, his head tilted slightly. “Let me come along, ‘cause even if you’re wrong-”

“-I’ll stand by you, I’ll stand by you. Won’t let nobody hurt you. I’ll stand by you.”

You sat patiently outside the door, the music playing quietly on your phone to break up the silence that surrounded you. And possibly send a message to the woman who was currently ignoring you.

Natasha walked over and kneeled by your side. “Are you planning on staying out here all night?” In response you lifted your shoulders slightly in a small shrug. “You should at least eat something.”

“I’m not hungry.” You murmured, spinning the rings on your fingers absently.

With a sigh Natasha stood up and gently pat your head. “I’m going to bring you both food. And I expect you both to eat, even if you aren’t talking right now.”

Almost as soon as Natasha had walked away the door behind you opened, causing you to fall backwards. “You can turn the cheesy 90s music off now. I get it.” Wanda said quietly, her posture tense.

You scrambled to shut the music off and rushed to your feet. “Hi.” You said nervously.

From where you stood you could see Wanda fight a smile. “You’ve been sat outside my room for three hours and all you came up with was hi?”

Shyly you rubbed your arm. “I did have a whole speech planned out in my head but looking at you now I can’t seem to think of anything other than you.”

Wanda melted with your words and you could see the frustration in her eyes begin to fade away. “Did you really mean what you said? That you don’t care?”

Tentatively you reached out and took her hands. “Never. Not about you. I was talking about myself. I will care about you forever.” Care was a placeholder for what you truly wanted to say and you both knew it. "I'm sorry for making you think I didn't."

With a sigh, Wanda pulled you into her arms. “Well I care about you, so if you care about me you also have to care about yourself.”

You buried your face in her neck, breathing in her sweet scent. “Okay. I care...” You mumbled letting the silence wash over the moment. “Did we just have our first fight? I hated every minute of that.”

Wanda’s chuckled slightly. “Yeah. Me too…” Her eyes shone brightly with amusement as she gently tilted your head up to meet her lips, finding comfort in your touch.

You were her safety.

Impatiently Pietro snapped his fingers in Wanda’s face, squinting his eyes slightly at her expression. “You’re testing me.” He said flatly with a knowing point of his finger.

Wanda quickly feigned innocence, still shaking away the memory that had filled her mind. “No, I’m not.” She insisted.

Wanda was testing him though. She knew he wouldn’t know that song. He shouldn’t have.

In response he waved a hand dismissively as he gestured vaguely to his face. “Hey, it’s cool. I know I look different.”

Unable to help herself, Wanda nodded. Her brows furrowed. “Why do you look different?”

Pietro shrugged. “You tell me. I mean, if I found Shangri-La I wouldn’t want to be reminded of the past either.” Wanda looked back at him pensively.

Anna then rushed back with the twins. “Your turn, Uncle Petey!” She exclaimed patting Pietro on the shoulder.

“Alright, Uncle Petey’s about to maximize your candy acquisition. Not like your lame Aunt Annie over here.” He joked, ruffling Anna’s hair who just smacked his hand away. He offered a hand to Charlie who eagerly took it as Billy linked on.

Before Wanda could even blink they had sped away. “I’m beginning to think he’s a bad influence.”

Anna spun around to face her. “Beginning? I hate to break it to you, Wanda, but between the two of us I’m the only good role model here.”

Wanda just shook her head in amusement when someone in the distance caught her attention. “I’ll be right back, Anna.” Anna nodded and ran to try to catch up to the twins. Wanda made her way over to the person of interest. “Hello, Ellie.”

Ellie turned to face Wanda a mild look of surprise covering her features. “Hi, Wanda. Where’s your lovely wife?”

The polite smile that Wanda had grown so accustomed to made an appearance. “Oh, it’s okay you don’t have to be secretive. Y/n told me about the undercover piece about neighborhood watch that you have her working on.”

Curiously Ellie quirked her eyebrows. “I haven’t assigned Y/n to any undercover pieces.”

Wanda’s smile wavered slightly. “Oh. I thought… I thought she…” Her lips pulled down slightly in thought.

Ellie shifted nervously in the silence as her brows furrowed in concern. “Is there something I can do for you, Wanda?” She continued on before Wanda could utter a response. “Do you want something changed?”

A confused chuckle fell from Wanda’s lips. “No. It’s fine. I must have just misheard her this morning.”

“If you say so. Tell Y/n I said hello.” Ellie finally replied, sending a wink Wanda’s way as she walked off.

“Hey, that woman looked so much like Amelia. Y/n loved her.” Wanda jumped at Anna’s sudden appearance. Her eyes clouded over when she processed what the teenage girl had just said.

__________________

“This is so lame. I can’t believe you’re making them return all the candy.” Pietro grumbled with a roll of his eyes.

Wanda crossed her arms indignantly. “Well, I can’t believe what a bad influence you are.”

“That’s why I’m better.” Anna added in a sing song voice.

Pietro sneered. “Oh, shut it, pipsqueak. We’re here to do the exact same thing, okay? Come to town unexpectedly, create tension with the sis-in-law, stir up trouble with the rugrats and ultimately… Give Wanda grief.”

Anna huffed when Wanda looked at her suspiciously. “I mean, that’s what you wanted, isn’t it?” She asked, her tone dripping with irritation that was a stark contrast to her positive attitude earlier.

The confusion at the situation caused Wanda to purse her lips as she allowed herself to consider the two people before her. “Anna, weren’t you six when Hydra… I mean, you weren’t a teenager when you…” She trailed off slightly, not wanting to finish the thought.

The younger girl rolled her eyes defensively. “Look, that was years ago. I aged. That’s what happens inn life, isn’t it?” Anna crossed her arms when Wanda didn't seem convinced. “I don’t know, okay?”

Wanda frowned slightly then turned her attention to Pietro. “And you. What happened to your accent?”

“What happened to yours?” Pietro countered defensively. He sighed when Wanda leveled him with an unimpressed stare. “Look. Details are fuzzy, man. For both of us. All I remember is getting shot like a chump in the streets for no reason at all. Next thing I know, I heard you calling us.”

Anna stepped forward, nodding along with Pietro. “We knew you needed us.”

The words hung in the air like an unanswered question. “Uncle P, Auntie A, guess what?” Charlie shouted excitedly effectively ending the conversation as she rushed over with Billy.

“There’s a treasure bag with full sized candy bars on the lamp post!” Billy pointed up eagerly at the post that was hanging directly above their heads. “Mom, can you help us get it?”

The sound of metal crunching filled the air as Charlie waved a hand. The lamppost giving way easily as she skipped over and took the bag off the light. “Next stop, Cavity Town!” She cheered as she walked back over and passed one of the treats to Billy.

“My niece is a badass!” Pietro hollered as he lifted Charlie on his shoulders. Wanda couldn't help the pride that bubbled in her chest as she watched her daughter's powers develop. She wished you would have been there to see it too. “Just like your uncle P! Chip off the old Maximoff block!”

Anna coughed pointedly. “Manipulating earth and metal? Sounds a lot like the badass comes from my genes.”

“It’s okay, baby. You can take it slow, and you can-” Wanda’s words were interrupted as Charlie began flying through the sky, cheering all the while. Wanda shook her head in amusement at the way Charlie smoothly flew through the air, her smile unwavering.

Billy watched his twin excitedly which Wanda took note of.

When Charlie floated too low, Wanda grabbed her foot and gently pulled her down. “If you’re going to explore, please just take your brother with you.” Wanda said seriously.

“Really?” Billy asked happily.

“Really?” Charlie repeated with a pout.

Wanda bit back a smile as she nodded. “Really. And please, just remember-”

“Don’t go past Ellis Avenue.” They responded in unison.

“We know, Mom. We know.” Charlie said dismissively as she offered her hand to Billy and a moment later they floated into the air.

Pietro and Anna shook their heads. “Be careful! I love you!” Wanda shouted after the twins.

_________________

For the past several hours a feeling of discomfort had settled in your chest as you wandered the city of Westview. The feeling reached its breaking point when you watched a woman frozen in time, replicating the same action again and again. The moment solidified your resolve. You needed to see what was outside this city. To see if all these odd occurrences were just that… odd occurrences.

You didn’t want to believe it was Wanda. It couldn’t be.

In a bid of desperation, you took advantage of one of your new-found skills and allowed yourself to fly into the skies of Westview. Everything looked completely normal... Except for one set of lights stopped strangely at the edge of the town.

Curiosity got the better of you as you flew over to investigate the scene. The sight of the stalled car unnerved you as you wearily made your way over to the driver’s side. “Agnes? What are you doing here?”

Despite the question, Agnes continued to stare off into the distance, almost as if you weren’t there at all. “Took a wrong turn.” She lifted her shoulders in a slight shrug. You worriedly took note of the way her eyes were glossed over with unshed tears despite her face being completely void of emotion. “Got lost.”

Her words were monotonous which was so out of character for the woman you’d seen before. You frowned. “Lost? In the town you grew up in?” There was no response from the other woman as she continued to stare blankly ahead. Your fingers tingled with uneasy energy. “I wonder…” Hesitantly you lifted your hand until it hovered over her temple. You closed your eyes as you focused, becoming one with the earth’s current until a short burst of light drifted from the tips of your fingers into the side of Agnes’ temple.

With a gasp, she sprung back to life. Agnes desperately took your hands, pulling you down. “You! You’re one of the Avengers! Are you here to help us?”

“I do want to help.” You assured her. “But what’s an Avenger?”

Agnes pulled her hands away as if she’d been burned. “What? Why don’t you know?” Suddenly she began patting herself down anxiously. “Am I dead?”

Your brows furrowed in concern. “No, no, why would you think that?”

There was a brief pause before Agnes turned her attention back to you. “Because you are.”

The tightness in your chest increased tenfold. “I am what?”

“Dead. You’re dead. Dead, Dead!” Agnes shouted hysterically causing you to flinch back involuntarily.

Determinedly you pushed forward again, ignoring her words. “Agnes, I want to help. I’m going to get help. To reach someone outside of Westview and figure everything out.”

“How? No one leaves. Wanda won’t even let us think about it.” Manic laughter startled you into silence as she continued. “All is lost. We’ll never escape her.”

Despite numerous attempts to call out to her, Agnes’ laughter never stopped. The unsteady tingling in your fingers began again as you took a deep breath and grounded yourself with the earth once more. You lifted your hand to her temple and almost as soon as the light entered her temple the laughter stopped.

“I will fix this.” You declared softly.

A caricature of a smile overcame her features. “Alrighty, neighbor!” She said as she turned the car around. “Happy Halloweenie!”

With a new sense of determination, you marched forward into the open field in the distance. The soft buzzing of static becoming louder and louder the further into the field you ventured.

Cautiously you reached a hand out to touch where the sound seemed to be coming from only to be met with resistance even though nothing was there. Confusion took hold of your emotions as you watched the costume you were wearing transform into your typical clothes as you pushed your arm through the energy barrier.

Knowing this was the only way, you pushed forward, feeling as if your mind was being wiped clean the further you walked.

The pain was becoming unbearable, but you knew you couldn’t turn back.

As the pain worsened, a quiet song began playing in your mind, almost as it was attempting to comfort you.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Look at me.” A soft hand on your face tilted your chin up. Her eyes were flooded with worry but her gentle touch brought you comfort. “This might hurt a bit, but we have to do this.”

A soft groan fell from your lips as you could feel the first stitch begin to close your wound. “Wait, wait.” You hissed, pushing her hand away from your bleeding side.

Her fingers gently brushed through your hair. “Y/n. You’re bleeding, we need to stitch this up now.” You knew she was right, but you still wanted to roll away. The woman quickly scrambled to her feet, stepping away for a moment before rushing back with a small device in her hands. “Here. Focus on the music. Focus on me. Not on the pain.”

“I've loved you forever, in lifetimes before and I promise never will you hurt anymore. I give you my word, I give you my heart. This is a battle we’ve won and with this vow, forever has now begun…”

When the song from the radio reached your ears, a choked laugh fell from your lips despite the pain you were in. “Did you plan for the cheesiest 90s song to play?”

In response she smiled ever so slightly, but her eyes remained focused on the task. “I didn’t, I swear. Guess I just got lucky.”

“Yeah. Me too…”

Staring up at her made it impossible for you to focus on anything else as you processed the words that floated from the radio. She was done before the song had even finished. You didn’t feel a thing.

“I didn’t see they were government agents.” You murmured guiltily after a moment as you watched her wrap your now stitched up side.

Her concerned eyes met yours. “Y/n, I don’t blame you. I’m just glad you’re okay. I was so scared I wouldn’t get there in time. That I wouldn’t be able to protect you. I... care about you.” Her words were sincere as her thumb lightly caressed your cheek. The placeholder word from your past making a comeback.

The small box of a room that was your newest hideout was dingy, but with her here it was the most beautiful place in the world.

Your chest tightened with familiar feelings that you spent so long avoiding. “Can you hold me?” You looked away as you asked, still not used to the vulnerability.

“Of course.” She breathed out, carefully helping you to bed before gathering you in her arms. Her heartbeat against your ear was the sweetest song you had ever heard. You had never felt safer than when you were in her arms.

Wanda was your safety.

“Wanda.” You gasped out, feeling yourself refocus on the current world around you as thoughts of Wanda flashed through your mind. Of Wanda smiling. Of Wanda laughing. Of Wanda crying. It was all there again.

Until it wasn’t.

With a gasp you fell to the floor, clutching your head, feeling yourself – your mind - begin to fade away.

“Why aren’t you helping her? Something is wrong with her, she needs help!” You heard a voice scream anxiously. You looked up just in time to see the woman get held back by someone. “Steve! Natasha! Help her!” She cried out holding her ear as a man tugged her arm down and handcuffed her to a car.

Despite the pain coursing through your veins you continued to weakly crawl forward. The threat of losing consciousness and the sense of who you were increasing the further out you moved from the barrier. “Th-they need h-elp.” You gritted out, not remembering why, but knowing it was why you were there. One of your arms gave out from under you as you fought to keep your eyes open.

The bespectacled woman watched you with growing concern, tugging desperately at the handcuffs that kept her in place. “Steve, Natasha, you need to hurry.” She said quietly, her eyes widening when you fell to the floor.

Everything went dark.

__________________

There was a comfortable silence in the air and Wanda could almost allow herself to relax as she sat on one of the bales of hay while the twins played on their own in the town square.

Almost.

“Where were you hiding all these kids up until now?” Pietro suddenly questioned with a smirk.

“What?” Wanda replied in surprise.

Anna leaned back on her hands, feigning amusement. “I assume she let them all sleep peacefully in their beds.” She picked at the hay in disinterest. “No need to traumatize beyond the occasional holiday cameo, right?”

Pietro rolled his eyes. “Hey, back off. She’s the empathetic twin.”

“I don’t-… I didn’t-” Wanda stuttered. Anna smirked slightly.

Waving his hands dismissively, Pietro continued. “She handled all the ethical considerations of this scenario as best she could.” Wanda’s mind seemed to be put at ease as Pietro’s speech continued. “Families and couples stayed together, most personalities are the same, people got better jobs. Better style, for sure.”

Flicking a piece of hay at Pietro’s head, Anna added. “Convincing my sister that she’s in love with her.”

Wanda turned her head sharply at Anna’s words. “What do you mean convincing? Y/n loves me.” Her brows furrowed as she considered Anna’s words. “She does.”

A laugh fell from Anna’s lips. “You can cut the act, Wanda. Pietro and I know everything.”

“I’m not acting. Y/n and I love each other.” Wanda defended quietly, trying desperately not to let Anna’s words get to her.

Anna shrugged. “If that’s what you need to tell yourself. Y/n was in love with Amelia- sorry, you renamed her Ellie.” She smirked when she saw Wanda’s fingers flex slightly. “They were soulmates. They made the best team. I’ve never seen Y/n more in love than she was with her.”

Wanda’s jaw clenched, and Anna’s smirk grew.

“Do it. Make her go away.” Pietro encouraged Wanda when familiar red tendrils began drifting from her fingers.

Anna tilted her head in mock sympathy. “What? You don’t want to hear the truth?”

With a wave of her hand, Anna slumped on the hay. Pietro cheered. “She’s just sleeping. She’ll be up in a few minutes.” Wanda said quietly, feeling the shame creep up on her as she tried to shake Anna’s words. Pietro laughed, and she turned to face him. “You don’t think it’s wrong?” Wanda asked quietly, her voice uncertain.

“What, are you kidding? I’m impressed! Seriously.” He admitted with a knowing smile. “It’s a pretty big leap from giving people nightmares and shooting red wiggly-woos out of your hands.”

For a moment Wanda stared off in the distance, allowing his words to wash over her.

“How’d you even do all this?” He finally asked. Wanda shifted uncomfortably at the question. “Hey, I’m not some stranger, or your wife, or your wife’s annoying little sister. I'm your brother. You can talk to me.”

Wanda’s eyes began to glisten to unshed tears as she thought over his question. “I don’t know how I did it.” She admitted quietly. “I… I only remember feeling completely alone. Like I was drowning. Just… Endless nothingness. Empty.” A tear fell down Wanda’s cheek.

“Mom! Mom!” Wanda heard Billy call out to her frantically as he ran over with Charlie following closely behind him. Wanda quickly composed herself.

Rushing over to the twins, Wanda felt dread build in her chest. “What is it, Billy?”

“I hear Momma. In my head! She’s in trouble.” The fear on his face made Wanda’s concern increase tenfold as her stomach dropped. “I don’t know understand. What’s happening to me?”

Wanda placed comforting hands on his shoulders as she struggled to control her emotions. “Where is she? Where is your mother?”

“Hey, don’t sweat it, sis. It’s not like your dead wife can die twice.” Pietro flippantly replied with a chuckle.

Anger. That's all she felt when Pietro spoke so dismissively about you. Unable to control her anger, Wanda shot out a hand as Pietro was sent flying back from the force of her powers.

Taking a breath, Wanda turned back to her terrified son. “Billy, I need you to focus.”

Closing his eyes, Billy began recounting what he saw. “I can’t tell. I see these… soldiers.” Wanda tensed even more. Billy gasped. “They think she’s dying!”

For a moment Wanda was sure her heart stopped.

Thinking quickly, she turned away from Billy, her eyes glowing red.

Steve and Natasha ran up just as the walls of the barriers began moving forward. They continued to sprint forward while Haywards minions made desperate attempts to run away.

“Y/n!” Steve cried out, feeling fear seep into his bones when he saw your lifeless form sprawled out on the empty field. On numb legs he began moving faster. Hopelessly, he was forced to watch the red energy wash over you once again.

Natasha cursed as they lost sight of your body. The red barrier continued to push forward when they were mere feet away from Darcy. “Fu-” They heard her mumble through a wince as she also became lost behind the barrier.

“We have to get in there!” Steve shouted.

With determination, Natasha nodded. “Let’s try.” A moment later they were pushing against the red energy that was fighting against letting them in.

Annnnnd we have concluded with the 90s! Chaos is the main population of Westview right now. A lot happened here. I'm not even sure what to say to be completely honest. A little nervous about this part.

Anyway...

As always, thoughts and comments are always welcome! Let me know what you think. :)

Taglist:

@theofficialzivadavid // @tquick99 // @abimess // @marrymemcgrath // @the-camilucha // @afuckingshituniverse //@pxterstrk // @aimezvousbrahms // @ensorcellme // @sapphicshots

#wanda #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda marvel #wanda maximov #wanda maximoff fic #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x y/n #wandavision #wanda x you #mcu x reader #mcu fanfiction

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writers-blogck · 4 years ago

Text

A House, Not a Home ( Dabi x Todoroki!Reader )

Warning(s): This is siblings. It is not a romantic story. Don't be gross. This will have spoilers for the current Manga arc, though not many. A little bit of health-related issues but nothing too graphic. Title inspired by Madds Buckley's Dabi song.

Title: A House, Not a Home Pairing: Dabi x Reader (Little Sister) Fandom: My Hero Academia Word Count: 5,405

Ages: 0 and 6

Rei sat on the futon, legs tucked under her as she held you close to her chest. Her fourth child, smaller than the other three had been. She loved all of her children but as she looked down at the crying newborn, she knew this wouldn't be enough for her husband. He would want another one to get the perfect prodigy. A small sigh left the woman's mouth. She was getting tired. She knew she had to keep it together for her children but she wasn't sure how long she would be able to keep this up.

Everyone else was asleep as she rocked you in the main room, or so she thought. Bright turquoise eyes came into view and she couldn't help but let her heart speed up. Enji had been a good husband once but after Fuyumi, he could no longer focus on anything but his legacy. He needed to be first and if he couldn't, then he would create the next number one hero. This kept him from ever being soft to his children or wife. Had you woken him up? He was never pleasant during the middle of the night... She had learned that the hard way just after Touya was born.

As smaller feet shuffled closer, Rei felt her shoulders relax. She couldn't help but be frightened by her son Touya at times. He had the same eyes as his father, so extreme and filled with a fire she couldn't describe. There had been nights where she worried Touya would follow his father's footsteps of intensity but moments like these gave her hope. He only ever acted this way when it was just the two of them. He had to be the cool big brother around his siblings and he dare not show any weakness in front of Enji. Rei wished she could change that, she really did. But, she was only one woman.

"Is she alright?" He spoke softly, eyes as wide as the moon itself as he stared down at your flushed face.

"Yes, she's just hungry is all. Babies need to eat a lot you know. You'll probably hear her cry a lot during the night but you don't have to worry. Mommy will take care of her." Rei ran her hand ever so slightly over your fuzzy head. What color hair would you have? White like her own? Red like your father's? She was just gratefully you had inherited her eyes. She didn't know if she could take another pair of those piercing eyes.

"Won't she get fat if she eats all the time?" Touya quietly sat down next to his mother, shoulders brushing against one another in a silent piece of affection. Love was shared in secret in this house. Enji didn't want Rei to make his boys soft because she babied them. He was better with Fuyumi but Natsuo proved that he hadn't learned his lesson.

Touya was too young to remember Natsuo or Fuyumi when they were babies. He had been four when Natsuo was brought home and barely over a year with Fuyumi. This was the first time he would ever truly get to experience the troubles that came along with a newborn. Natsuo still cried a lot but he just was scared to sleep by himself.

"Oh no, darling. She's growing and needs all that energy. Just like you are a growing boy. You know, she's lucky to have a big brother like you...."

"Really?"

"Of course. All of your siblings are grateful for you, Touya. Don't ever think differently." She ran her free hand through his white hair, caressing his face as she pulled away, attention shifting back to you.

As you squirmed in her arms, she feared for your safety. She didn't have the best of health and Touya had inherited that, though not as severely as her own. Rei feared that you had inherited it more than any of the other children. Giving birth had been hard and there was a moment there when they didn't know if you were going to survive. She never wanted to admit that Enji was right but you were weak. Just a baby born into a harsh world. How would she be able to keep you safe?

"Touya, I need you to promise me something."

"Anything!" Touya could be described as a mommy's boy, though he hid it as much as he could. All of her children preferred her, as most children do prefer their mothers. It didn't help that Enji was as rough and intimidating as he was added onto that.

"This is your little sister and it's your job as a big brother to protect her. She is going to need you more than Fuyumi or Natsuo. She's sick and could really use a good big brother in her life." Rei spoke softly, eyes shifting between her two children who were awake. She didn't want to put such a burden on her eldest but something in her stomach made her fear for your future. Enji would see you as weak and interact with you as little as possible. Natsuo was too young to be a real big brother to you just yet. Touya was the best chance for you to get a good male figure in your life.

"Can you promise me that you'll always protect her?"

"Of course, mommy! I'll be the best big brother you've ever seen! I'll make sure she never cries around me!"

Rei smiled and hoped that was true. She knew if her children were going to get affection from somewhere other than her, it was going to have to be with each other. Enji was a demanding father and while Rei tried her best, she couldn't help but get tired at times from her own health issues. Touya had taken on the duty of leading his younger siblings as soon as he could walk but this was different. She could feel it and she didn't know if that was going to be a good thing or bad.

"Would you like to hold her?" Touya nodded in awe as his mother placed you in his arms, keeping her own hands there as a safety precaution. You were still so young, it would be some time before she really trusted Touya to hold you all on his own. But, she would teach him. There was so much in store for all of her children, that much was certain.

You looked so fragile like you could break if Touya even looked at you the wrong way. He could play rough with Natsuo, though he would get in trouble if he made his brother cry. Fuyumi was only two years younger than him and though she was his little sister, this felt different. So tiny...So little.

Your sobs quieted as you were moved into your brother's arms, your attention now shifting to this new person in front of you. At that moment, Touya felt his heartache for the future. He knew his dad wasn't the nicest but he wouldn't let his dad do anything to you. Not while he was around. He would be your guardian angel.

"Don't worry," He whispered as you stared up at him with watery eyes, "I'm gonna make sure you never get hurt. You'll never have to cry when I'm around. I'm gonna be your new big brother and I won't let anything happen to you.

Ages: 3 and 9

A sharp yelp followed by loud cries brought Touya rushing to the backyard. How had you even gotten out? Was no one watching you? Mom should have been...But since Shoto was born, her attention shifted to focus on him. She didn't do it on purpose but she gave him most of her attention. It was more likely to be Touya who calmed you after a nightmare, not Rei. He was the one who cleaned your cuts and put a bandaid on them.

As he ran outside, he was shocked to see you sitting on the ground, tiny fires alight on the blades of grass surrounding you. It wasn't hard to stomp out such small fires before they got big but he was more concerned about you. Why were you crying so much? What happened? Someone was always watching you, or at least he thought so. He had slipped when doing his homework. If you got hurt, it was his fault.

"What is it? Tell me, show me." He spoke, moving to where you were sitting with your legs pulled close to your chest. You were hiding your chubby hands behind your knees, shoulders shaking as you let out sobs. He was never the best when it came to you crying. He normally would just curl up next to you when you had a nightmare but it was different when you were hurt. You were always the one to go to him crying when you got a small cut or when you fell. Yet, now you were cowering away from him.

"Show me." His tone was more serious this time as he wrestled with you, finally getting a hold of your chubby hands. He felt bad when he saw you wince but he needed to see what was wrong. What if you had broken your wrist or cut off your fingers? How would you do that? He didn't know but he was sure going to find out if you had. He hadn't been expecting what actually had happened. How could he? You were still so young...

As you unfolded your hands, he was greeted with the sight of harsh burns. There was nothing around you that could have burnt you, nothing obvious anyway. He looked over your arms quickly, in a small state of panic. He may be more mature than some kids but he was still only nine. He only knew so much. The next thing he noticed was how hot your arms had become, something he had only ever felt between two people.

Taking a closer look, he noticed the dim light shining through your skin where your veins would be. When he ran his finger along the lines, he could tell they were the hottest part. The rest of the heat was dispersing from those areas. His stomach began to drop as he realized what had happened. He had hoped, dreamed, prayed that you would inherit everything from your mother. Sitting here on the grass with you now proved to him that he was wrong.

"It's okay! I know how to deal with this, you just burnt yourself a bit. It's going to be okay. Nii-chan gets burned all the time. I'll make it feel better. Let's go inside and we can watch a movie, how about it? We can do that after we get your hands fixed up." Even though he was still young, he was able to hoist your body up and carry you inside, though he was shakily wobbling the entire time. One day he would be big enough to carry you without having trouble. He hoped it wasn't obvious how worried he was about the situation.

He hadn't been prepared for when you would show your quirk for the first time. He had hoped that it would have been something ice-related. Something like Natsuo or Fuyumi. Something like your mother's. A quirk that wouldn't hurt you but he hadn't gotten that lucky. You shared the same fire that your father and Touya had within them. Would yours be as harsh as his own? The flames had been red so that was a good sign.

He was skilled at taking care of burns at this point because of his own quirk. Touya knew he was going to have to tell your father about your quirk appearing but, what if that made him focus on you more and make you train like him? This was still a little young to be showing your quirk. Maybe he could just hide it for some time while he taught you how to control your power. Touya could still remember how painful it had been when his father tried to teach him to hold his fire in. He wouldn't let that happen to you, he couldn't.

He would never let your father hurt you. Not while he was around.

Ages: 9 and 15

It was late in the night when you heard someone walking around when everyone was supposed to be asleep. Who would be up at this time? Shoto would be asleep for sure...Fuyumi too. Perhaps Natsuo had gotten hungry in the middle of the night? It wouldn't be the first time he had snuck around at night to fill his stomach. If you didn't know any better, you would think his quirk was a black hole in his stomach. You would never understand how he could eat as much as he did. Still, a snack didn't sound that bad.

Wrapping yourself up in your blanket, you made your way to the main room of the house where the front door was. Instead of seeing Natsuo as you had assumed, you saw your eldest brother Touya instead. He wasn't in his pajamas like he should have been...As you looked him over, you noticed that he even had his shoes on and was tugging on his leather jacket.

"Nii-chan?"

Touya's head shot in your direction, a wild look in his eyes. His neck was bandaged up and you weren't sure if it was because of his quirk or if your father had done something to him. Enji was roughest on Touya. Both verbally and physically, Enji always would hurt his eldest son. Touya had been good at hiding it but there were still rare occasions where you saw something you weren't supposed to. Glimpses of the truth.

"Where are you going?"

"(Y/N)..." His voice was hoarse. Had he been screaming? Was he getting sick? He crouched down, eyes staring at the wood of the floor as you moved closer to him. How would he explain this to you? You were the closest with him out of all of his siblings. He had been hoping to slip out without having to say goodbye to anyone. It would hurt less and it would leave less of a chance that he would be caught.

He could still hear what his mother had told him the day she brought you home as you moved closer. He was supposed to protect you but he couldn't stay there anymore. It was too much. You would be fine with Fuyumi and Natsuo to protect you. Plus, there was Shoto, you weren't the youngest anymore. You could live without him.

"I need to go away for a while, okay?" Slowly, his head moved up to make eye contact with you. He had to keep it level even as you began to tremble and form tears in your own eyes. He had to do this, no matter what. If he stayed tonight, then he would just be reminded tomorrow why he wanted to leave tonight. It was the best opportunity that he would have for some time. Your dad had drunk some alcohol tonight and would be passed out upstairs.

"Where are you going?"

"I don't know."

You shuffled over, unable to truly understand what was going on. Touya reached out, pulling you into his arms, and began to run his hand through your hair. Your mother would be so disappointed with what he was doing but he had to be selfish. Sometimes you had to look out for number one. Sure, you would have a crappy childhood but your dad never hurt you. If Touya stayed, he didn't know if he would make it to his next birthday. He had to plan for his own survival.

"When will you be back?"

"I don't know."

"Will you be back?" This question was quieter than before. Timider, meeker. He could hear the fear in your voice but knew what he had to do. He knew what the answer was. No, he wouldn't be coming back. He was running away for good this time but how do you tell your kid sister that? Plus, if he did explain, there was a chance that you would tattle.

Without answering, he let go and stood up, pushing you back a bit so there was space between the two of you. A few stray tears were running down your cheeks, had Touya seen it as he turned his back on you and opened the door? He had to leave before he changed his mind.

"I love you!" You whisper-shouted as the door shut behind his retreating figure. Touya was walking away from the life he knew and walking into a new one where he would become an entirely different man.

Had he heard you?

You knew you should have gone and woken up your father but something kept you from telling. You trusted your big brother and he had gone away before in the past. Maybe this would just be like those times and he would be back within a day or two. That had to be it. If not, where was he going to go? Even after the door was closed, you couldn't move from the entrance, eyes trained on the door as if he would walk in any minute.

This would be the last time you would ever get to hug your brother.

Ages: 15 and 21

It had taken some convincing to be allowed but somehow you got your father to let you attend UA. Today would be your first day and while you were excited, you were scared at the same time. It had never been easy being the daughter of a top hero. It was hard to know when someone really wanted to be your friend versus those who are just sucking up in hopes of meeting your dad. Would that be worse here since these people actually wanted to be heroes?

A small sigh left your lips as you brushed a stray tear away. Shoto would be coming here in two years. He was already the pride and joy of your father. You had times where you would doubt whether or not he actually loved you or not. He would rather see you locked up in your room than out. Fuyumi said he was just being overprotective but you weren't so sure. You thought it was because he was ashamed of you.

This was to prove him wrong. Was that the wrong reason to become a hero? To prove someone wrong? Maybe...You liked the idea of saving people but the biggest thing pushing you was your father. There was a fire inside of you that yearned to prove him wrong and get his approval. Still, Shoto didn't always have it easier than you. While your father barely paid attention to you, it was rare that he wasn't pushing some training on your younger brother. Ever since your mother...No, you shouldn't think about that. The past would only ever haunt you and cause nightmares. Both the events with your mother and Touya's death. You kept telling yourself that you needed to move forward. Today was a new day.

"Hey, are you lost? Whatcha looking for? Maybe we can help you find it!" A loud and booming voice spoke, laced with nothing but kindness. Quickly turning, you were greeted by a blonde boy and a black-haired boy. The blonde had a huge smile on his face while the black-haired one was trying everything he could to keep you from paying attention to him.

Instinctively, you tugged at your sleeve to hide your arms even more. People always would look at you weird if they noticed the scars covering your arms. They would judge you, just like everyone does. For once, you wanted someone to be willing to get to know the real you and not assume things because of your appearance and your father's reputation. Even still, the blonde seemed to radiate sunshine and you almost changed your mind on how they would react. Almost.

"Oh!" With a small sniffle, you pointed quickly at the main building of UA, "I'm looking for 1-A. This is my first year going here and I guess I'm just a bit nervous. I don't know anyone who is going here so...It's just been one of those days, you know?"

"Really?! We both are going to 1-A too! We are gonna be in the same class!" The blonde wrapped an arm around his shy partner, pulling him into the conversation whether he wanted to be a part of it or not, "Why don't we walk there together? We'd be happy to be your new friends if you want! The more friends, the better, right Tama-chan?"

The black-haired boy didn't respond.

This would be your first time ever meeting your two future best friends. Mirio and Tamaki would become almost as close as family to you. How many nights would you end up staying at Mirio's just to stay away from home? Late night walks with Tamaki because you couldn't sleep due to your nightmares?

Dabi was making his own friends on the streets, or whatever you could call friends. He was filled with rage and a fire that had only grown since he had left home. He would see clips of his father saving the day and reporters gushing over him. If they knew the truth, they wouldn't be acting like that. Someone just needed to prove it to them.

And Endeavor? He deserved to pay for everything he had done to Dabi. He needed to hurt as much as he made Dabi hurt. The older boy knew he wouldn't be able to do that alone and began to make allies in the underground areas of the city. Drug dealers and gang members. He would climb the ladder and become a true villain but everyone had to start somewhere. He would need help to get his revenge and he was okay with playing the long-con.

Ages: 17 and 23

Civilians were running in a panicked state as fire surrounded them. Screams were all you could hear save for the blood pumping in your ears. As you searched the crowd for a hero, you were greeted with the sight that you were terrified of. There were no heroes in the area. Not yet. They would be here in less than fifteen minutes but you knew how crucial that time could be.

Fifteen minutes.

As everyone around you ran from the flames, you ran into them. The flames licked at your skin as you entered the chaos but your skin allowed it to glance off of you. You had grown used to the feeling of being burnt due to your own quirk. Deep red scars that followed the patterns of your veins littered your body due to the fire inside of you. In certain lights, your scars could even come out to be slightly purple in color.

You had been going to UA for three years now and this was the exact situation you were being trained for. It was this pulling inside of you that lead you towards the danger that made you a real hero. You were a real hero. You wanted to be a real hero...When would a real hero get here?

"Oh, do we have someone playing a hero here? A schoolgirl come to save the day from the big, bad villain?" Black boots crunched against the gravel of the road, each step as casual as the last as he stalked closer. Burned flesh greeted your eyes as Dabi emerged from the flames. You knew it was him, the blue flames made it obvious. You had seen video footage from the training camp. This was a specific type of fire. This was Hellfire.

"You can't do this!" Your hands clenched into fists, veins burning as your emotions began to run wild. You were terrified. This would be the first time you faced a villain by yourself without active-backup on the way. Interning at your father's agency could have its perks but it also meant you never got dangerous tasks. Even with Shoto just starting, your father took him on more hero-like outings. He was playing favorites and it hurt. Did he not think you could be a hero? Were you too weak in his eyes?

"Aw, and why not, little Matchstick?" A devilish grin spread over the burnt face, stables keeping the two pieces together as one, "Whose going to stop me? You?"

"Yes!" The quiver in your voice alerted to how scared you actually were. Just remember Mirio and Tamaki. Remember how brave they were. You wanted to be just like them and this was the perfect time to do that. They wouldn't run when people were in danger. Even if they were scared, they would go running towards the danger because they were true heroes. Mirio had saved Eri and Tamaki had protected Kirishima more times than you could count. Your heart was telling you to run as it pumped quickly but your feet were planted as if held by concrete. You wanted to be like them.

You wanted to be like your dad.

"What do you even want?" You continued, hoping to distract the man just long enough for the heroes to make their way here. Maybe Hawks would be the first to arrive. He did have his wings. Perhaps your father could use his flames as he had when fighting the nomu. It didn't matter who the hero was as long as they got there as fast as possible. You would even take Mount Lady, a hero who you had a hard time dealing with.

"What do I want? I want what every man wants!" His arms extended as his trenchcoat billowed around him, a crazed look on his face. Fire surrounded the two of you, catching anything that it could on fire. You could see why the bottom was as tattered as it was as the fire singed the fabric, but if Dabi cared, he didn't show it.

The man walked closer to you but you kept yourself in a defensive position. You couldn't run, you could end up leading him right to the majority of panicked citizens who were trying to evacuate. The best course of action, even if it meant you could end up getting hurt, was to stay right where you were. You wanted to be a hero. You were a hero! No matter how your father acted, you were a hero. How many nights had you stayed up late, practicing to control your quirk for moments like this? All you really wanted was for your father to finally see how strong you could be.

Ten minutes.

Before you knew what was happening, you felt your back hit a hard chest and a hand much larger than your own wrap around your neck. No matter how you struggled, Dabi kept you from escaping with the force he was pressing against your neck. The other hand gripped your chin, forcing you to look up at your assailant. There was a crazed look in his eyes that were as blue as his flames. It made tears well up in your eyes from fear.

The edges of your vision were beginning to blur with the lack of oxygen. Just before you felt your legs begin to give out, the man loosened his grip just enough for you to gasp at the air around you. Coughs filled the air as you dealt with the lack of oxygen as well as smoke that was staining anything it could.

"Revenge. That's what I want." His lips whispered next to your ear, causing a chill to run up your spine. This wouldn't be the first time a villain wanted revenge and it wouldn't be the last time. You used all the force you could muster and kicked the villain in the shin.

This seemed to work as he let you go, but it wasn't for long. He snatched your wrists in one hand while the other went back to its place on your neck. This time he only used enough force to keep you from breathing comfortably. This was starting to look worse and worse for you with each passing moment. Still, you just had to remember heroes were on the way. They would save you.

"And you, my Little Matchstick, are perfect for my plan."

"Let me go!" Your shrill voice screamed as you felt the flames burst around your wrists, using your own quirk now. A grunt of pain and some mumbled cursing escaped Dabi but instead of losing his grip, you felt a searing pain spread over your own skin. The pain caused you to lose concentration of your quirk, all too focused on the blue flames that the man emitted from his hands. For a split moment, the two of your flames seemed to dance around each other and turn the light a purple like Dabi's scars.

The hand at your wrists lit up like a beacon as Dabi's quirk began to come out. Screams would have escaped your lips if not for the hand constricting your breathing which was now burning your neck as well. All you could see was white as the worst pain you had ever felt kept you writhing. The flames began to creep down your arm, spreading towards your body. The hand on your neck reminded you more of an iron as there were no actual flames appearing. Some sick version of a human cattle prod. His hand print would be scarred over your neck, a permanent reminder of this night.

The next thing you could remember, you were slumped on the ground like dirty laundry. The world around you was spinning. It was beginning to darken in a mixture of you losing consciousness and smoke as the seconds ticked by. Tears streamed down your face from the pain and ash filling the air. A horrid smell wafted around and you feared that was coming from you.

"Come now, the heroes aren't going to save you. They always break their promises, just like villains. Hell, I couldn't tell you how many promises I've broken in this day alone! Heros and villains are one and the same when it comes down to it! The only difference is that villains are seen as a disgrace while heroes are praised for doing publicity stunts!"

Five minutes.

Dabi's boot came crashing down on your throat, pushing as hard as he could. You could feel the heat of life begin to diminish with each passing moment you lacked oxygen. Shouts in the distance could be heard, the heroes were almost here. Yet, they wouldn't be here soon enough. They wouldn't be here to save you. Was this really how you were going to die?

One particular loud shout registered as your father and for once, you felt grateful that he was around. He didn't even know you were here, you hadn't told him where you had gone after school. Would he be moving faster if he knew you were there? If anyone could save you, it would be him. You wanted to feel his arms wrap around you, holding you and making you feel safe one more time. He could save you.

Or at least he could be here as you died.

"Poor Little Todoroki, it seems like you are going to just miss out on the fun." The rest of the world was blurring and disappearing into the growing darkness, leaving the fire illuminated Dabi as the only thing visible.

With a smirk illuminated by the sharp blue flames, you stared up at the eyes that would be the last thing you would ever see. They were eyes that seemed so familiar to you. They were...your father's eyes. No, not your father's. That wouldn't make sense, you weren't hallucinating. No, they were eyes filled with the flames you had only seen in two people before. These were the eyes of the one who had cared for you the most once upon a time. How had it come to this? How could it be true? He wouldn't hurt you but as you lay dying at his feet, you knew there was no denying it.

"Dad isn't going to like this, now is he?"

They were Touya's.

453 notes · View notes

anystalker707 · 3 years ago

Text

Spicy horror

Pairing: Frank x [fem] Reader Word count: ~ 4 000 Genre: Smut / Fluff Summary: It's Halloween, and (y/n) and Frank finally confess their crushes to each other when binge watching horror movies on Frank's place. Kind of content: Praising / Protected / Oral

Requested by @thisisjustforrequestingfanfics (can't tag you, sorry hhh my T*mblr is acting weird)

a/n - I'm sorry that I coudn't proofread, I might do it soon; I was supposed to be asleep rn

"You're just annoying, old man," I tease with a grin. "But don't whine or else you'll ruin the makeup!" I continue spreading the white concealer over his face, careful to get it on the corners around his nose and around his eye, though not to irritate his eyes.

"No, fuck you," Frank groans, his face twitching to suppress any expression. "Why can't we watch it again tonight? They're the best movies! And stop calling me old man, it's just my birthday! I'm not decomposing or anything!" Despite his words, he smiles, opening his eyes once I pull away, leaning back against the chair of the desk – I roll my eyes.

"Yeah, I agree." I grab the eyeshadow palette from the desk and move closer to him again. "TCM is a great series and all, but can we not watch it for a single week? It's your birthday and we can watch literally any horror movie! And it can be special, like, not something we've watched a thousand times already to the point we already know most of the lines." I glare before motioning for him to close his eyes.

Frank sighs grumpily, leaning his head back. "What are you planning on, then? Alien? Jaws?" He lets out a weird cry when I slap the side of his head lightly, though he is soon chuckling.

"And then you complain when I say how annoying you are!" I spread the dark eyeshadow over his eyes, humming. "It's been a while since we've watched The Howling, Evil Dead, House of Wax. I mean, 'm not gonna complain if we decide on Alien and Jaws either." He hums, pouting. "Don't worry, you're still my favorite old man." I press a kiss to his head.

"I hate you," he laughs.

After a little bit of fake blood and retouching on my makeup, the two of us are leaving Frank's house to go to school, waving his mother goodbye. We don't look like what most of the kids will go dressed up as – not putting enough effort nor choosing the same themes as the jocks and popular people and not invisible enough just to throw on whatever in a black theme. Frank looks like a chill vampire with Bela Lugosi's Dracula references, though still looking like a punk, while I decided on one of my favorite characters. Nothing too extra, but still in the vibe.

"You look ridiculous with that hair slicked back." I kick one of the pebbles on the sidewalk. "I prefer the hedgehog or whatever it is in the normal state."

"I honestly feel like I could kill someone just from biting their jugular off." He grins, throwing his nose in the air – I can't help but to chuckle; he's adorable. "But not gonna be anyone from school, they're not worth it neither their blood would taste good." He twists his mouth. "I feel like most I'd get would be booze, botox and steroids."

"Damn," I snort, "awfully accurate. You're gonna starve, sorry."

Frank pouts, looking down, but a smirk soon tugs on his lips as he takes a step closer. "But you're not that bad, baby, you know?"

"Oh, fuck off!" I roll my eyes, clicking my tongue. "You just want to get in my jugular!"

Both of us burst out in chuckles and our conversation eventually dies down when we walk past the gates to inside the school, replaced by jokes at other people's costumes, sometimes needing to hold onto each other from laughter.

We walk into the first class, already a bit late, but all it does is to attract everyone's attention the moment we step in.

"Ridiculous, as always," some girl mutters under her breath. Funny.

Frank wraps a hand around the length of the coat to stupidly bring it to cover the lower part of his face, looking around with narrowed eyes then wide ones. "I smell not just a lot of blood here," he says in a low and raspy voice, "but also stupidity!" He points at the girl judgingly, making her twist her mouth disgusted.

"I hope Freddy Krueger visits you tonight," I say when walking past her, patting her shoulder. A scream comes from her when noticing the fake blood stain I leave behind on her white outfit, having Frank and I chuckling on our way to the back.

No one really pays attention to the classes – it's Halloween, we're even in stupid clothes and anxious for whatever is going to happen later in the day, so the teacher doesn't even bother scolding Frank and I for talking nonstop in the back of the classroom. To be honest, I think only the goody two shoes are actually doing something, sometimes turning around to glare at the others.

"Okay, okay, shut up for a minute!" I tell Frank, taking a look at the messy words over my notebook to check if I forgot to write something down. "We've got The Howling, Alien, Evil Dead, House of Wax, Dawn of the Dead, Funhouse, Pumpkinhead..."

"Fright Night," Frank continues, "Opera, Cannibal Holocaust, Texas Chainsaw–"

"I said no TCM! Fuck you," I curse, rushing to write everything down, crossing out TCM when I accidentaly write it down.

"Friday the 13th, Poltergeist, Near Dark and Elm Street," he finishes, glaring at me. He hits my shoulder, not enough to hurt. "I'll make you watch TCM with me until you have memorized every single frame of it!"

"Your TCM phase will have died down by then!" I twist my mouth bitterly. "Sorry to kill the hype, baby!" I throw my nose in the air with a chuckle at his sulky manners. He furrows his eyebrows, sucking in a breath for words he never really gets to say. "And we still got to watch all these goth movies and shows lying around! Do you think it was easy finding the 60s Addams family show on DVD? Or that one Frankenstein version on cassette." Okay, the last one was easy to find in a yard sale, but still, it was just luck.

"Okay, mommy, please just don't punish me," Frank says with a groan and a fake moan. I stare at him as he's not able to contain his laughter before starting to hit him with the notebook.

"Too bad you're not a good boy, hun."

For once, school ends up actually being nice and just because Frank and I were getting in the character sometimes and pissing people off. By lunch, he had pulled on some sunglasses and looked like the stupidest fucker while eating his sandwich and smudging more of the lipstick and fake blood around his lips. At some point, we had pretended to have a fight and pierce the other's chest with a pair of scissors just to squeeze a bag of fake blood at whoever walked by – mostly some of the jocks or plastics. So much fun.

The house is quiet when we arrive back at it, a couple hours after school ended, and we find out, later, a note from Frank's mom apologizing she can't be here during the rest of his birthday, though she's sure he'll have fun with me.

"Imma take a shower," I sigh, pointing upstairs.

"Sure," he hums, looking up from the note for a moment to smile at me.

Thankfully, I always leave some clothes at Frank's place because I'm here far too often and not always have the chance or disposition to go back home and grab some clothes. It doesn't prevent me from stealing his hoodie, however, and walking out of the bathroom without all of that sticky makeup or fake blood is the best thing ever. Later, Frank is the one to go take a shower while I take care of the food he had already started to prepare.

"Much better!" I raise my eyebrows at the sight of Frank with his hair back to normal and only a bit of black makeup smudges the underside of his eyes now.

"Y'know, I never said a single thing about how you looked," he mutters with his brow low, coming to lean against the counter, next to me, "still, you've been attacking me every chance you got!"

"Does it offend you?" I smile.

"No, but it still hurts!" He sniffles, a hand flat against his chest. "I know I'm too badass for you to handle, but you don't need to let it be that clear!"

I look at him from head to foot. "I hate you, y'know that?"

"Love you too, hun!" He grins and moves closer, cupping my face exaggeratedly to peck my cheek before we head upstairs with everything we need.

We turn the lights on to organize everything, soon sitting down against a pile of pillows and with food surrounding us, though most of it is on the bedside tables since Frank, mainly, gets extremely uncomfortable with it falling on the bed. It doesn't matter, though, since the food and half empty cans end up going forgotten halfway through the movie at the same time the chatter dies down and we watch The Evil Dead as if it was the first time.

Some funny part comes on – well, not exactly funny, but enough to make us chuckle quietly – and brings us back to reality, sighing and glancing at each other, adjusting our postures as we'd slid down the pillows.

Frank yawns.

"Already tired?" I tease, poking his shoulder.

"No." He pouts, crossing his arms over his chest. "Getting tired is for losers." He does glance at the clock on his bedside table, however, and the red glowing numbers say it's six something.

"You're my favorite loser, then." I smirk lightly, exhaling.

Frank's eyebrows knit together as he looks at me, but then rolls his eyes. "Well, duh, of course I am! Who else? I'm the best." He scoots closer until his head is leaning on my shoulder and I can't help but to smile.

"No, I am," I groan, arms wrapped around him.

"I am!" He glares and, at some point, we end up in a wrestling match, pushing each other around the mattress among laughter and curses, which comes to a stop when we start getting too tired and I just let Frank lie down on top of me, head on my chest, still watching the movie. "Do you like anyone, (y/n)?" he asks suddenly. "Like, got a crush?"

Random. Why does he want to know? I mean, I do have a crush, but telling him about it is difficult.

"Um, yeah, I guess, why?" I blink, startled when he suddenly brings himself up on his elbows to stare at me.

"I swear to God I'll hunt them down if you forget about me because of them, do you understand?" Frank presses his forehead to mine. "You're the only one I got, sometimes I'm so worried you'll even leave me for whatever reason."

"What?" I breathe a chuckle, though there's not exactly anything funny here. "Never in my right mind would I do that! And you can't hunt my crush down if my crush is actually you," I laugh in a sudden rush of confidence, which wears out awfully quickly, leaving me lying there and rethinking every life choice.

"Me?" Frank widens his eyes. At the lack of answer, he takes a hold of my collar, straddling my hips. "Did I hear it right? Please, (y/n), (n/n), soulmate? I'm your goddamn crush? For how long?"

I shake my head lightly, shrugging. "Months? A long time."

"And you just told me now?" He cries, forehead pressed to my shoulder. "Slow motherfucker."

"I didn't want you to leave me either, c'mon!" I sigh in defeat, running a hand through his hair. "I remember that time a girl confessed to you and you'd simply vanish whenever she showed up. What if that was with me? I'd not be able to live like this, y'know that."

"Y'know, yeah, seeing it from that point..." Frank shrugs, bringing himself up to face me again. "Still, I wouldn't avoid you like that! Dunno, but it doesn't matter now because you just relieved me of months of suffering. Looking at these pretty lips without being able to kiss it." He furrows his eyebrows, eyes on my lips. "Can I kiss you, tho? Now that we feel stupid for all these months. Damn. At least I feel."

I breathe a chuckle. "Of course! Do you think I wasn't dying to do it either?"

Next thing I know are Frank's lips pressed against mine softly, soon growing firm with confidence. His fingers run along my neck lightly, in a caring manner, dropping to trace my collarbones.

"Also," Frank breathes, pulling away; his face never moves farther than a couple of inches whilst he adjusts his position, lying down beside me on the mattress. "Maybe it's wrong to say and I've always tried to say it in a subtle manner, but–" his eyes meet mine, "–you've got the body of a goddess! Like, dunno, sometimes you comment about not having an 'ideal', skinny body, but you're just so perfect," he groans, wrapping his arms around me tightly.

"Frank!" I tap on his back lightly. It's not that I don't like what he said – no, damn, it sends my heart fluttering, this warmth taking over my chest –, but is it really the truth? I didn't think it was possible for anyone to tell me this.

"No, I'm telling the truth!" Frank grins. "Like, your thighs and all. I just want to squeeze and bite you! Not in a bad way, I mean." I must give him a funny look because of how flustered he grows, tongue playing with his lip ring as he looks away. "There's a lot to unpack, fuck, I thought it was obvious how I always sit there gazing at you and shit, but..."

"Likewise." I glare playfully, making him chuckle.

"Y'know–" Frank smiles lazily, "–this is the best birthday I've ever had, by far." He brushes his lips against mine softly, watching me through half lidded eyes. "Never knew you'd actually like me back. Never believed it was possible, to be honest."

"I never cogitated you like me," I breathe.

"Well, okay," he says, "we've already gotten through this. I think we should focus on now."

"I'm not the one who keeps bringing back past thoughts!" I chuckle at how he pouts, scowling funnily.

"Shut up, shut up, I get it!" Frank rolls his eyes and presses his lips to mine before I can say anything, having me smiling against the kiss until returning it, wrapping my arms around his neck to pull him closer. Now that we've finally kissed, keeping our lips off each others' feels almost impossible – letting go of each other feels almost impossible. "God fucking damnit," he groans under his breathe, moving to press kisses down my jaw, soon reaching my neck.

A sigh escapes my lips at the kisses, though it turns into quiet pleased sounds at the feeling of his teeth pulling at my skin and sometimes closing around it, sucking on it whilst all I can bring myself to do is tugging onto his hair. Suddenly, however, feeling his hands traveling down to my hips and squeezing them makes me gasp, probably reacting a bit more than I intended.

"What?" Frank pulls away at the same moment, eyes wide. "Did I do something wrong? Please– Damn, I'm so sorry!"

"N-No, no," I finally bring myself into speaking up, feeling my cheeks burn bright red. "I, um, I actually... liked it. A lot. Sorry if I scared you, I just wasn't expecting it. I don't mind, really," I insist as he continues looking at me with furrowed eyebrows.

"You sure?"

"Yeah!" I smile, bringing him for a quick kiss before he's trailing down my neck again.

Frank's hands go down my body, experimentally at first and then squeezing my hips again, receiving another reaction this time, including just a soft gasp as I push my hips up – a shiver runs down my spine with it, a nice one. Fuck.

"Damn..." Frank breathes, hands running down to my thighs then up again to slide under my shirt. "It's a bit early, maybe–" he shrugs, looking at me, "–but... is it okay if..."

Holy hell. "Of course," I say without thinking much – he continues to stare, so I nod.

"Fuck yeah," he mutters, lips against mine for a few seconds before he's pulling my shirt over my head and the expression on his face carries such admiration that I can't help but to feel embarrassed for a moment. He never lets me cover myself, nonetheless, hands flying to my waist to hold firmly onto it as he's pressing kisses from my stomach to my hip. "No, seriously–" he sits up again, "–how can someone be so perfect?" He seems to be talking mostly to himself, getting rid of his shirt.

"Dunno." I grin. "How does it feel to be so perfect, baby?"

Frank exhales shakily. "You'll be the death of me and I ain't even joking." He presses a kiss to my collarbone, starting to nibble down at the skin again, trailing down to my chest, lips sometimes lingering over my breasts – sure as hell he leaves a few marks behind, considering how invested he gets.

Something tells me he doesn't know what to focus on. His hands never stay in the same place for too long, going down my thighs then trailing up to my waistband, up my torso, and then he repeats it.

"C'mon," I mutter, placing his hands on my waistband. He's a bit hesitant, but quickly undoes the buttons and starts pulling it down – I help him, kicking the pants away in the end.

A string of curses slip past Frank's lips as he quickly gets rid of his jeans too and, when coming back, he kneels down between my legs this time, spreading them apart. Our lips are yet again locked in a kiss, different from the others, more heated up and urgent this time as we hold onto each other. I play with the hair on the back of his neck and tug onto it instead at the feeling of his hands around my ass, groping.

"Frank, damn," I breathe quietly for a second we pull apart and, opposite to earlier, he gets the hint and does it again, humming against my lips. Once he stops groping, his hands just run along my skin, up and down my body, sometimes lingering. The most lovesick look decorates his face when he pulls away. My heart.

I place my hands on Frank's shoulders as I sit up, changing our positions. He observes me with wide eyes and I smile at him before pressing kisses to his neck, leaving behind a hickey before I can go lower and lower until my fingers are around the waistband of his boxers and I pause, looking up at him, and continue after he nods.

Frank's already half hard, a breath hitching in his throat as, after discarding his boxers, I assume my previous position.

Even if it's not the first time I've done that, this nervousness still lies under my skin as I wrap a hand around him, pumping him lightly before wrapping my lips around the head experimentally. He breathes sharply.

Only halfway through it that I allow myself to look up at Frank, pausing for a moment after finding out he's been watching, propped up on his elbows, eyes focused on me and jaw slack, but I don't look away, hollowing my cheeks instead and watching him break under my gaze, letting go of all the tension for a second.

I repeat the motions a few times and pull away, licking up along the underside, around the tip, and he's suddenly pulling me away – eyes wide and face flushed this time.

Frank mumbles something I can't quite understand, but it doesn't really matter. He moves closer, both of us soon assuming the position we were in minutes ago, pressed against each other. Now, he removes my underwear and his hand slips between us, however.

Pleasure is sent ringing up my spine at the feeling of Frank's fingers slipping past my lips, quickly finding my clit and wasting no time on working his thumb on it while a couple of fingers tease my entrance. Moans just escape my throat easily after he breaks the kiss, mouthing his way until the inside of one of my thighs – he bites and sucks on the skin there. His tongue is suddenly there, then, against my clit, working around it before being replaced by his lips and my vision goes fucking blank when I can feel him sucking on it.

"Fuck," Frank curses once pulling away, moving to frantically rummage through the nightstand's drawer; I groan at the loss of touch, pushing my hips up into nothing.

Hearing the sound of foil being torn makes me understand what's happening, and I watch him rush to slip the condom on, giving us a moment to catch our breath before he's positioning himself, a hand on my hip whilst another holds himself up.

"Tell me if there's something wrong, okay?" he asks slowly, "I'll stop right away. Don't be afraid."

"Same to you," I say softly, cupping his face to pull him for a soft, quick kiss.

Frank smiles with a nod and looks down before I can feel him against my entrance, pushing in slowly. I wrap my arms around his shoulders tightly, feeling his chest vibrate against mine with the low moan coming from him, replaced by a sigh once he sinks in completely. He starts moving right away, hips jerking experimentally before attaining a heavy and slow pace which doesn't last long due to how needy we are already.

I gasp at how he thrusts in harder, wrapping my arms around his shoulders to hold him close and having my legs around his hips, instinctively.

Curses and praises are breathed into my ear among moans, somehow making the pleasure pool down in my lower stomach even more intensely, summed up to feeling his hands groping on my ass again, fingers sinking into the skin.

"You're just so perfect, (y/n)," he babbles, "and even better that now you're all mine."

Suppressing a louder moan turns out to be impossible at the feeling of Frank's hips reaching a certain angle and, soon, the answer I had in my slips away from my grasp and all there's left is just how good he feels. I travel a hand up to his hair, remembering how he reacted to it earlier, and tug on it in a form of response, though also wanting to hear how pathetically he moans at it.

"'M gonna cum," I manage to say before being cut off by a moan, arching my back.

"Me too, babe," he groans, "almost there."

Frank pauses, adjusting himself so a hand is under my thigh and another on the mattress for major support and his thrusts are suddenly harsher. I throw my head back at the same time, holding onto him tightly, and it doesn't take long for all the pleasure that had been building up so far to unravel at once – it apparently triggers the same on him, considering how tight his grasp gets whilst a higher pitched moan comes from him.

Coming down from the high, I feel almost numb, in a good way. Frank pulls away and I'm only aware of him when he's lying down next to me, both of us breathing heavily and unable to do anything aside from staring at the ceiling for a long moment.

"Damn, I love you so much, so much," he mumbles again.

I breathe a chuckle, feeling him cuddling up to me, arms wrapped around me. "And I love you, dumbass." I press a kiss to his head.

"My girlfriend now, right?" he asks. "Nevermind, you don't get to choose." He chuckles, though it quickly dies down. "Just kidding, okay? Tell me to and I'll fuck off."

I laugh, still breathless. "Of course I am. I didn't confess for nothing."

#frank iero x reader #frank iero imagine #frank iero #mcr #mcr fanfic #mcr x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #x reader #female reader #n*fw #my post #my chemical romance #fluff #smut #imagine #oneshot #requested

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justkending · 4 years ago

Text

The Number One Rule. Chapter 18.

Summary: Y/N has always been seen as “Steve’s rambunctious sister.” However, she grew up, graduated, and moved to London to study abroad for 4 years and get her bachelor's degree. The girl that returns looks nothing like the teenager that left, but don’t worry the attitude is still there and stronger than ever. What’s to come of the two grown adults that used to push each other's buttons, but now have a lot more in common than they’ve ever realized.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Y/N Rogers (Steve’s little sister)

Word Count: 3100+

Chapter Eighteen:

“Good morning, Sunshine,” Steve chuckled, bringing his mug to his lips as his sister walked in with a sleep ridden face. She gave him the silent bird before moving to the coffee pot. “I see your morning self hasn’t changed.”

“What are you still doing here? I thought you would have left for work by now?” Y/N asked with a tired voice as she walked to the fridge for creamer.

He had ended up staying the night and sleeping in his old room that had been transferred into the guest bed. Him and his sister had been up late talking and catching up.

“Eh, I’m going in a few hours later since I’ve been doing overtime recently,” Steve shrugged, leaning back and watching her sit across from him. She was wearing a giant T-shirt and some old pajama pants that she tiredly tried to straighten from their disheveled state. “What’s your excuse for not being ready for work?”

“I don’t have to be there until 9 today,” she answered with her eyes closed.

There was a comfortable silence as the two sipped on their coffee and Steve read the newspaper. Looking over he saw her practically falling back asleep in her seat.

“I guess I need to talk to Bucky soon…” He spoke up. Her eyes opened at that and she turned to him.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I mean now that I know the case, and now that I know you’re both happy, I don’t have a right to be a jackass anymore I guess,” he shrugged with a smirk.

“I’m glad you came to terms that you were a jackass,” she chuckled, punching his arm playfully. “We’ve been waiting a few years on that one.”

“Hey, I can call myself a jackass, but you watch yourself,” he warned in a light manner.

“Sure thing… Jackass,” she mumbled with a smile. Before he could start an argument, she diverted the conversation. “So, should I warn him, or-?”

“I don’t care. We have different shifts today, so I’ll see him tonight probably and talk to him.”

“Ok, then I’ll let you do the talking. I would warn him yourself though. He’s been a nervous wreck around this topic with you. Anytime he thinks about how we’ve hurt you, he gets upset and really anxious,” she explained more seriously.

“I mean, I don’t blame him. This was a shitty kind of situation to go through, but mom was right. Neither side of the problem was handled well,” Steve sighed. “I’ll text him before.”

“Good,” Y/N nodded. “Want me to come?”

“No, I think we need to talk ourselves,” Steve sighed. “If you know what I mean.”

“I get it,” she nodded standing and grabbing her mug. “Well, I’m going to get ready for work. Mind if I come over tonight though? You know, when the coast is clear? Maybe we can all have a movie night like back in the day! Becca and Sam are invited too,” she pointed to him.

“Sounds like a plan. You’re paying for pizza though. Since you have an adult job now, it’s only fair,” Steve said with raised eyebrows.

“Hey, I-”

“You owe me,” he cut her off.

She glared at him for using the given past situation as a way to get free food.

“That’s low, big bro,” she deadpanned.

“Don’t act like you wouldn’t do the same thing,” he scoffed with a smile, going back to the paper in front of him.

“Touche,” she nodded with a pursed lip. “At least text me when I can head over, so I don’t interrupt you guys' bromance session.”

“Shut up,” he groaned as she left the room.

________

Once Y/N got to work, a few hours into her shift, she got a call from Bucky.

“Hey, B,” she smiled through the phone as she went through the loads of papers in her hands.

“Hey sweetheart,” Bucky replied just as sweetly. “Guess who texted me today?”

“Hmm, Barack Obama?” Y/N responded. “Wait, no! Michelle Obama.”

“Haha, very close, but no,” he chuckled. “You’re brother reached out.”

“Is that so?” Y/N faked surprise.

“I’m guessing you guys' conversation last night went well considering your chipper mood?” he questioned. “Or they went horribly wrong and you’re just a really good actress.”

“We all know I can’t act even if my life depended on it,” she laughed, changing the phone to her other ear as she wrote some notes on a paper.

“It’s true. You’re a horrible liar,” Bucky confirmed.

“I’m not even going to argue it no matter how much I want to,” she shrugged. “But I would say things went well. I mean we may or may not have gotten into a wrestling match on the front lawn, and mom might as well have dragged us by the ears inside to have a civil conversation, but besides that…”

“Oh God, Y/N… What the hell happened?”

She just knew he was pitching the bridge of his nose on the other end.

“Nothing too crazy. It’s just sibling fighting,” she waved off.

“At least tell me you gave him a chance. You didn’t beat his ass too much, hopefully. You know we’re trying to win him over, not push him further away, right?” Bucky had a smile in his voice, clearly just joking around.

“You know? Kids’ gotten stronger since middle school,” she noted.

“I would hope so. He fought in a war and chases bad guys for a living. Can’t have scrawny middle school Steve doing that kind of stuff. He’d get a nose bleed just looking at the wrong guy.”

The two laughed for a little reminiscing at little Steve before he bulked up in high school. But after some joking, Bucky brought the conversation back where he started.

“But in all honesty, I shouldn’t be too worried about tonight?” he asked. The nerves in his voice were clear to Y/N.

“No, Bumble Bee. We talked it out, screamed it out, and fought it out. And in doing so, we had a good conversation. Thank Sarah Rogers for keeping us on track and not letting us walk away until it was resolved,” she assured, putting his mind at rest.

“Ok, good…” Bucky sighed on the other end. A moment of silence went by as if he was trying to process it.

“Hey, I know you guys still need to talk, but I do want you to know that it’ll be all ok in the end. Don’t get too worked up about it,” Y/N said softly. “26 years of being best pals can’t be ruined by this little bump. You said it yourself.”

Bucky let out a breath and nodded. “You’re right. It… It’s just, I hate that he found out how he did, and…” he paused. “It just kinda sucked seeing him that upset.”

“I get it,” Y/N nodded on her end. “But hey,” she added. “We’ll all be ok. Truly.”

“I trust you, doll,” he grinned. There was some distant talking on the phone and Bucky humming. “Hey, I have to go. Boss needs me for something. Call you later?”

“For sure. Have a good day, and let me know if you need anything!”

“Right back at you. Love you, sweetheart,” he slipped out the last part unconsciously.

There was a moment of silence as the two were stunned. Neither had said the “L” word yet… At least not to each other…

“Uh,” Bucky stuttered out. “I-I-...”

“Buck-,” Y/N started in just as much shock.

Another round of someone shouting on the other line that wasn’t Bucky came through through the phone.

“I have to go! Talk to you later,” Bucky shouted into the phone.

Before she could say anything else, the line ended and she slowly pulled back the phone seeing her lock screen blank. No words came out after that.

She just stared at the screen where a picture of her Bucky, Becca, and Steve all were embedded in a bear hug together. An old picture, but one that she always loved and cherished with a group of her favorite humans.

She also loved it because even though it was before Bucky and her had become an item, they were squished against each other. Bucky was smiling wide and caught in a laugh as he looked down at her, catching her from stumbling to the ground, and she was laughing as she gripped his arm to find her balance. Steve and Becca laughing on the side at her clumsy self, and the fact someone was always having to help her stay on two feet. Bucky having always been one of those top people in her life.

She smiled down at the memory and couldn’t help but feel those little flutters move from her stomach to her chest and eventually make her cheeks heat up.

_________________

Now he had two things to freak out about. One being Steve and his talk tonight. Yes, he knew he didn’t really need to after Y/N’s reassurance that things would be fine, but still. It was a strange conversation to have with your best friend.

“Sorry I fell in love with your sister and hid it from you. My best friend of over a quarter of a decade. Not to mention you found out from me coming out of her room half naked after you thought she was home alone...”

Yeah, that was going to be weird no matter how ok they were now…

Then you add in, he just casually told Y/N that he loved her before hanging up the phone. He didn’t mean to. It just felt so natural in the moment!

He wanted to make the first time he said it special, not just by accident…

God, his heart was racing and now he had four hours left of his work day to let those things just stir around in his head. Great. Maybe that 3rd cup of coffee wasn’t that great of an idea.

_______________

“So, everything’s good with you guys?” Sam asked after Steve let him in on everything.

“Yeah. I mean Buck and I still need to talk it out, but… I don’t know. I can’t be mad if they’re both happy at the end of the day. Happiest I’ve seen either of them in a while, if I’m being honest,” Steve shrugged with a small smile.

“See, I knew that’d be the case at the end of the day. I tried telling Bucky that,” Sam shook his head as he finished up the dishes. “And sorry man about not saying anything. I didn’t think it was my place to,” he apologized.

“No, I get it. This was their own thing. You were just being a good friend to Bucky and letting him figure this out himself,” Steve waved.

“He’ll be home in a little. You worried?” Sam asked, washing his hands off.

“No, if anyone’s nervous it’ll be Bucky. Y/N and I had a really good talk last night. No matter how upset I was before, I now know where they were coming from,” Steve sighed. “Did I agree with it? No, but we all have different ways we would go about things.”

“True facts,” Sam smiled. “Well, I’ll hoard myself in my room for a while until the coast is clear. Let me know if you guys need anything, ok?”

“Got it. Oh, and Y/N said she was going to come over after with pizza for a movie night, if you want to join,” Steve pointed out moving to the couch.

“I’m here for it,” Sam nodded, going down the hall to his room. “Call me when all is resolved.”

Steve nodded and plopped down on the couch skimming through the channels as he waited for Bucky. About 15 minutes later, he heard the lock turn and quietly the brunette made his way in with caution.

“Hey,” Steve said softly, turning from the end of the couch.

“Hey,” Bucky said with a soft smile as he put his things by the door.

These were the first words they had spoken in over 2 weeks. They hadn’t talked since the whole fight in the backyard.

“How was work?” Steve asked, making small talk.

“Nothing too crazy today,” Bucky shrugged, walking to the back of the couch with his hands in his pockets. “Oh, Lillian asked about you again.”

“From accounting?” Steve asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Only Lillian I know that’s obsessed with you,” Bucky laughed lightly.

“God, I’m not ready for that…” Steve returned the chuckle.

It got quiet after that. Not awkward, but not comfortable either.

“So…”

“Listen, Bucky,” Steve sitting back in his chair running a hand across his face. “I’m sorry, I punched you after-”

“Don’t be. I deserved it,” Bucky waved him off, coming around the couch slowly to sit on the opposite end.

“Ok, yeah. You’re right,” Steve nodded with another small laugh. Again another pregnant pause. “I gotta know. Why didn’t you just tell me, Buck?”

He took in a deep breath before answering. “I’m sure Y/N told you, but we didn’t want things to have a bad falling out and it be awkward for everyone else-.”

“No, not that. Why didn’t you tell me that you weren’t going to do it from the start?” Steve interrupted.

“What?” he asked, confused.

“Y/N said that you guys went back and forth on not going through with this because you didn’t want to hurt me. I mean, maybe that’s not that big of a deal, but it changes things on my end some,” Steve explained. Bucky just sent him a blank stare. “What I mean is, when I first figured everything out, I was hurt because I thought you didn’t even consider me in your decisions. I know, it sounds selfish, but-”

“No, it doesn’t. You’re a part of the equation to some extent. Just like Becca is. But surprisingly Becca was excited and not freaked out about her best friend dating her big brother. It’s a little different being the big brother in the situation though,” he said softly. “It’s not selfish though Steve. If the roles were reversed and say you and Becca dated, I would hope you considered my feelings in the matter too.”

Steve was glad that he understood what he was getting at. He was worried it wouldn’t make sense or make him look like he thought the whole thing revolved around him.

“Yeah…” Steve paused. “But you didn’t say anything about that when we did get in that fight. Why?”

“I don’t know… I guess I just wanted you to understand my feelings for her more than anything. I needed you to know that she wasn’t just some girl I was hoping to hook up with at some point.”

“I know you would never do that Buck. No matter how upset I was, I still don’t think that low of you,” Steve sighed. “And about that… I’m sorry I said you don’t deserve her… That was an extremely hard hit to the gut.”

“You were looking out for her,” Bucky said with pursed lips, but the pain from the past comment was clear. It didn’t feel good having your best friend who's been through thick and thin with you tell you weren’t worth something.

“Yes, but that was a low blow and I said it out of hurt feelings. I was hurt, so I wanted you to be just as hurt. That wasn’t fair,” Steve concluded. “If there is anyone in this world that I trust to take care of Y/N just as much as me, it’s you Buck. I was just blinded by anger.”

“Understandably,” Bucky nodded, looking back at his friend a little less troubled.

“Understandably,” Steve agreed. They stared at each other silently communicating. “I’m sorry.”

“If anyone is sorry, it’s me Steve,” Bucky shook his head running a hand down his thigh still slightly anxious.

“How about we both agree that we didn’t handle this situation the best way,” Steve smiled. “I should have seen how happy you two were and not second guess how it happened. I shouldn’t have made it about me when you both clearly are what the other needs.”

“Steve-”

“Truly. You guys have been glowing the last two months with complete and utter happiness and I was so oblivious to pick up on it. I feel like a shitty brother and best friend.”

“You’re not a shitty brother or best friend. Not in the least,” Bucky said scooting to the edge of the couch. “You know that.”

“Y/N tell you we got in a fight on the lawn yesterday?” Steve asked with a small smirk.

Bucky chuckled. “Yes. Said your mom about beat your asses out there too.”

“All because I was too stubborn to talk it out,” Steve shook his head while he threw it back on the back of the couch.

“Eh, you said it yourself. We all didn’t handle this situation well,” Bucky chuckled. “She kicked your ass, didn’t she?” he said after a second.

“Wouldn’t say that, but she must have worked out over seas because I couldn’t pin her like I used to. She was giving me a pretty decent fight,” Steve laughed loudly.

“God, I would pay money to have someone get that on tape,” Bucky laughed with him.

The two soaking up the now comfortable atmosphere.

“So we’re ok, right?” Steve asked. “Leave all out petty, stubborn, and stupid mistakes in the past?”

“I’m fine with that if you are,” Bucky nodded.

“Good. I’ve missed having my best friend around. I was getting tired of ignoring you,” Steve sighed, patting Bucky’s back.

“You gave me good practice with your stubbornness for Y/N. Not that I haven’t been practicing with you both my whole life, but damn you guys are too bull-headed monsters.”

“We feed off each other's energy,” Steve shrugged with a smirk.

“I know, it’s exhausting, yet entertaining all at the same time,” Bucky smiled as he moved his head side to side.

A knock sounded at the door and they both turned toward the wooden panel.

“Speaking of the devil,” Steve smiled standing up.

Bucky froze.

Shit. One anxiety had been cured now, but he had almost forgotten about his second one...

(Tags for this series will be closing soon as it is getting pretty full, please send an ask if you want to be added:)

I’ll post on whatever chapter I decided to close it down here.

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