#mr plant mpreg | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

atruththatyoudeny · 3 years

Text

Happy 28th! Here are all the 14 fics I read and enjoyed this month. As always, all the love for all the amazing authors in this fandom! ♥

In The Still Of The Night | jacaranda_bloom | Dirty Dancing AU - a/b/o - prejudice - gender stereotyping - class divide - angst - pining - smut - 69k In a society where omegas are expected to follow a predetermined path, Louis strives for more; for his voice to be heard, for recognition, for true love. In a world where your past defines your future, Harry fights against the system; for equality, for a different life, for acceptance. When their two worlds collide, will they be beaten down by conformity or will they rise up and forge a new path together? OR the Dirty Dancing AU where Louis is a feisty omega who wants to change the world, Harry is an alpha from the wrong side of the tracks, and nobody puts Louis in a corner.

Plant New Seeds in the Melody | 28sunflowers | enemies to friends to lovers - miscommunication - misunderstandings - emotional hurt/comfort - Original Character Death - grief/mourning - slow build - smut - 58k After losing his husband in a tragic car accident, the last thing Louis needs is to keep running into popstar Harry Styles, who David was quite fond of. Obviously, that’s exactly what keeps happening. But as their unlikely friendship blossoms, Louis realizes that, maybe, having Harry in his life was the only good thing that came out of his adverse circumstances. Harry could be just the right person to help Louis find trust and intimacy in someone new.

take my hand, wreck my plans | amomentoflove | Cinderella AU - a/b/o - royalty - Minor Character Death - emotional abuse - magic - 38k Louis meets the man in the center of the room, feeling every eye on him. “Mr. H,” he whispers. The man smiles brightly and laughs as if he can’t believe his eyes. “It’s you,” he says breathlessly. “I didn’t think I would see you again.” “Nor I you, especially under these circumstances.” “Even so,” Mr H says, his eyes bouncing from Louis’ eyes to his lips. “Will you do me a great honor and join me in leading the first … um…” “Dance?” Mr. H laughs and nods. “Yes, that’s the one.” Louis bites his lips and doesn’t hesitate before whispering, “Yes.” Mr. H beams and reaches for Louis’ hand. Sparks fly at the touch and a zing of excitement shoots through Louis’ body. His face heats up as he’s afraid his scent would give away his feelings towards the other man.

One More Taste of Your Lips | Canadianlarrie & MsHydeStylinson | canon compliant - reunion tour - angst - internalized homophobia/biphobia - cheating - smut - Coming Out - 80k It had been eight years since the hiatus began, and Louis had spent that time writing and recording music, touring and making it safely through the pandemic. When the opportunity arose to go back on tour with One Direction, Louis knew he'd be a fool not to take it. Sure, life on the road would be different after all this time apart, but he was looking forward to experiencing that comradery again. What he hadn't realised was that living the better part of nine months in each other's pockets was bound to dredge up issues from his past. And when one of the pockets belonged to Harry, who he'd had a rather unconventional friendship with that drifted apart during their last tour, life on the road again would upend both their lives in irrevocable ways. * Harry wasn’t that sixteen year old boy anymore. Nor was he the young man in his late teens who was on the cusp of conquering the entire world. But some traits seemed to remain the same; his vibrant green eyes, the dimples set deeply in his cheeks whenever he laughed earnestly, or his curls that were the same shade of cocoa that Louis remembered fondly. And yet, Louis had absolutely no idea who this man that stood a mere twenty paces away was today.

Old Photographs & Times I'll Remember | jaerie | time travel - Eroda - period-typical homophobia - anxiety - depression - discussion about suicide - self-discovery - post-break up - 54k Carefully he set that negative down and lifted the paper to see there was another beneath. This one again was a young man, this time posed against an antique car. He lifted a few more negatives out one by one, each a portrait of the same man with various backdrops. The man in a meadow, in an office, leaning against a doorframe — even one in his underwear grinning at the camera. On the edge of each negative printed in slanted, handwritten characters were the initials and date. H.S. 1924. He quickly but carefully packed them back into the box and buzzed with excitement. He couldn’t wait to develop them to see exactly what had been captured in the images. It was a find that felt like a puzzle to piece together. H.S. was likely the man in the photographs as well as the owner of the suitcase. Who was he? Why had his suitcase found its way into Niall’s attic? Was he still alive and well somewhere in the world? A camera, a suitcase, and a relationship forged through time.

Know a Trick or Two | SadaVeniren | Harry Potter setting - mpreg - magic - kid fic - - genderfluid character - smut - intersex - 44k The night before Louis is scheduled for a Portkey to begin training with the Vratsa Vultures in Bulgaria he heads into Muggle London for one last night of fun. A few months later he finds out he’s having a child. Eleven years ago Harry had a one night stand and now there’s a strange man on his doorstep telling him his daughter is something called a wizard and she’s got a place at the British wizarding school Hogwarts. Aka the one where Muggle Harry and Wizard Louis have a one night stand and get more than they bargained out of it.

come away with me | suspendrs | Minor Character Death - friends to lovers - sexuality crisis - emotional hurt/comfort - anxiety - smut - 80k Louis had such big plans. He wanted so much out of life, and so did Amy. Now Bridget is going to grow up without a mother, and she’s always going to wonder what it would be like if this hadn’t happened. He wonders if she’ll blame him for her mother’s death as she gets older, or if she’ll understand that this is just as painful for Louis as it is for her. Louis doesn’t know how he’s going to raise her on his own, because he’s a fantastic father, yes, but he’s always been the fun parent, and Amy was in charge of the rules. He doesn’t know how to make sure Bridget has everything she needs all the time, doesn’t know how to make her favorite meal or how to do that one braid she loves to have in her hair or how to teach her to be the best person she can be. He doesn’t know how to live without Amy, he doesn’t know what he’s going to do. Or, Louis has to pick up the pieces of his and his daughter's life after his wife dies, and Harry is a beautiful stranger that just wants to help.

we made our promises (we said our vows) | millsx | Military AU - established relationship - kid fic - angst - hurt/comfort - mentions of PTSD - mentions of depressions - mentions of anxiety - injury - long-distance relationship - 21k Fairy tales always end with the Happily Ever After; the princess escapes her evil stepmother and gets married to the knight in shining armor. It turns out real life doesn’t care about Happily Ever Afters and sometimes problems appear when you don’t expect them to. Harry sure didn’t, not after years of being married.

Love, Ever After | jacaranda_bloom | a/b/o - farmers markets - soulmates - pining - miscommunication - fluff - banter - smut - 21k One would assume that the charismatic omega in charge of the local matchmaking service would have found a mate and settled down ages ago. His clients, in fact, are always a bit surprised when they come to learn that Louis is still single. But Louis doesn’t mind, not really. His standards are just high; he is happy holding out for his alpha, his soulmate, and chooses to not waste his time with anyone else, despite what his friends might think. That is, until his best mate from uni drags him out of bed far too early on a Saturday morning after a night of drinking to go to a farmers market, of all places. It’s there that he proceeds to make an utter fool of himself in front of the hottest alpha he has ever laid eyes on. There’s truly no coming back from that, is there? OR The one where omega Louis makes love matches, alpha Harry makes cheese, and meddling friends might finally make their dreams of finding their soulmate come true.

Hometown | allwaswell16 | High School - College/university - driving - heartbreak - memories - friendship - happy ending - angst - 2k On the day Harry gets his driver’s licence, he drives through the suburbs, heartbroken that he can’t drive home to Louis.

fever dream high | wildestdreams | friends to lovers - childhood friends - a/b/o - fluff - angst - smut - mutual pining - High School - 30k "Excuse me, what?" Harry licked his lips, carefully looking him in the eyes. "I will spend your heat with you so you're ready by Monday to play your game." "Harry," Louis began, suddenly at a loss for words. "I couldn't ask you to do that." "Why not? You just said you trust me." "You're my best friend. There's no one I trust more than you." "Then what's the problem?" "Well, friends don't usually help you through your heats or ruts, so excuse me for being a little skeptical." or A High School ABO AU where Harry and Louis are best friends and nothing more until things start getting a little complicated and they're faced with feelings they never wanted to confront.

We are the same, you run in my veins | 28sunflowers | a/b/o - non-traditional a/b/o- soulmates - wolves -pack dynamics - 4k When the time for Louis to become the Alpha leader of his pack comes, he can’t rise to the occasion for not being yet bonded. A series of trips to neighbouring packs in search of his soulmate is fruitless until he meets one of the other packs’ Alpha heir. Harry. The world seems to stop turning for a second and then it shifts, clicking into its axis. All the distress and wrongness he felt until that very moment suddenly disappears. Louis is finally whole. But two Alpha leaders from different tribes soulbonding is something unheard of before.

Divinely Blessed | thinlines | a/b/o - non-traditional a/b/o - established relationship - PWP - 17k “I heard you, Ni. But what do you mean?” “What do you mean what I mean?” Harry rolled his eyes as he shoved his alpha friend down onto a seat. “Did you mean you lick someone out or…?” “Nah, mate! It was me! I got licked out!” Harry could only stare at Niall in horror. Alpha Harry prides himself on having the bravest and most caring omega who might or might not just fulfill his sudden curiosity.

This chemistry like candy to me | CuckooTrooke | a/b/o - kink discovery - mpreg - male lactation - smut - 8k "It's just... Are you aware, that, uh... You're- You're kind of leaking." Harry feels his blood run cold. The heart that was thudding so loud and fast drops to his stomach, and his shoulders hunch in embarrassment. "Excuse me?" Harry asks once he manages to gather himself and recover from the shock. He automatically steps back but since he's already squeezed in the corner, it doesn't do much to put any distance between them, "Who the fuck do you think you are?" "Wha- No. Oh my god, I wouldn't- No," The man says as he realizes the misunderstanding, and wildly gestures to his chest, "I mean your- Your chest. Is leaking." OR Harry is 8 months pregnant with a poor balance and traitorous nipples. Unfortunately for him, that is precisely when he meets a beautiful alpha in a packed London Tube. Fortunately for him, the said alpha might just be the best thing he has ever come across.

#28th appreciation #fic rec #my fic rec #my reads #monthly fic rec #monthly reads #completed fics #larry fics

65 notes · View notes

1dmonthlyficroundup · 3 years

Text

1D Monthly Fic Roundup

Hi, and welcome to the 1D Monthly Fic Roundup for May 2021! Below the cut you’ll find 17 One Direction fics that were all published this month in the order they were submitted to the blog. We hope you’ll check out these new fics! If you would like to submit your own fic, please check this post on how to submit or visit our blog @1dmonthlyficroundup.

New York Kiss by wordsnnotes / @quelsentiment

[Louis/Zayn, Mature, 47k, tumblr post]

“Also, in case you hadn’t noticed, I’m quite the narcissistic type, and I didn’t want that cute guy to have a bad opinion of me for the rest of his life.” “Who, me?” Zayn bats his lashes jokingly, ignoring the fact that his heart skipped a beat at Louis’ words. “Yeah, you. So, shall we go?” Louis drops what remains of his cigarette on the floor and steps on it to light it off. Meanwhile, Zayn makes a reckless decision. “Alright. Lead the way, De Niro.”

Or: A strangers to lovers AU where Louis is an actor, Zayn is a writer (among other things), and they meet each other literally by accident in NYC, just as the world is about to turn upside down.

I Love The Very Blood Of You by lovelarry10 / @chloehl10

[Harry/Louis, Explicit, 129k, tumblr post]

“I don’t just like him …” Harry muttered, fiddling with the string at the waistband of his jogging bottoms that had definitely seen better days. “I love him, Zayn. I’m in love with Louis. With a vampire.”

He looked up just in time to see a small smile on Anne’s face, and she reached out with a hopeful look. Harry couldn’t resist, and put his large hand in hers, letting her comfort him for a moment.

“I could tell there was love between you,” she confessed softly, a light blush on her cheeks. “When I met you, I knew you were smitten with each other. I won’t pretend it doesn’t make me nervous, but … I can’t tell you who you can and can’t love, sweetheart.”

A vampire. A human. A broken arrangement. A love long since forbidden. Hunted by hate. Destined.

One More Taste of Your Lips by MsHydeStylinson @mizzhydes and @canadianlarrie

[Harry/Louis, Explicit, 80k, tumblr post]

It had been eight years since the hiatus began, and Louis had spent that time writing and recording music, touring and making it safely through the pandemic. When the opportunity arose to go back on tour with One Direction, Louis knew he'd be a fool not to take it. Sure, life on the road would be different after all this time apart, but he was looking forward to experiencing that comradery again.

What he hadn't realised was that living the better part of nine months in each other's pockets was bound to dredge up issues from his past. And when one of the pockets belonged to Harry, who he'd had a rather unconventional friendship with that drifted apart during their last tour, life on the road again would upend both their lives in irrevocable ways.

***

Harry wasn’t that sixteen year old boy anymore. Nor was he the young man in his late teens who was on the cusp of conquering the entire world.

But some traits seemed to remain the same; his vibrant green eyes, the dimples set deeply in his cheeks whenever he laughed earnestly, or his curls that were the same shade of cocoa that Louis remembered fondly.

And yet, Louis had absolutely no idea who this man that stood a mere twenty paces away was today.

take my hand, wreck my plans by amomentoflove / @daggerandrose

[Harry/Louis, Teen & Up, 38k, tumblr post]

Louis meets the man in the center of the room, feeling every eye on him.

“Mr. H,” he whispers.

The man smiles brightly and laughs as if he can’t believe his eyes. “It’s you,” he says breathlessly. “I didn’t think I would see you again.”

“Nor I you, especially under these circumstances.”

“Even so,” Mr H says, his eyes bouncing from Louis’ eyes to his lips. “Will you do me a great honor and join me in leading the first … um…”

“Dance?”

Mr. H laughs and nods. “Yes, that’s the one.”

Louis bites his lips and doesn’t hesitate before whispering, “Yes.”

Mr. H beams and reaches for Louis’ hand. Sparks fly at the touch and a zing of excitement shoots through Louis’ body. His face heats up as he’s afraid his scent would give away his feelings towards the other man.

Winter Light by wordsnnotes / @quelsentiment

[Liam/Zayn (Liam & Louis, Harry/Louis), Teen & Up, 58k, tumblr post]

“Do you think this place is dead?” he suddenly asked, his eyes focused on one of the two oaks, whose bark was grey and trunk cracked.

“What do you mean?” Zayn inquired, joining him by the tree.

“Well, it’s winter now, so obviously everything looks dead anyway,” Liam said. “But do you think come spring, this place might look like the way it looked before?”

Zayn took his time to think about Liam’s question. “I think all things are salvageable,” he eventually answered. “Including this garden. You just have to try hard enough.”

After his mother’s death, Liam is sent to live at his estranged uncle’s manor in the North of England, where new friends, mysterious places and family secrets await him. A Secret Garden inspired Soulmate AU

Cake and Kiss by @loulovehome

[Harry/Louis, General, 2k, tumblr post]

The one where omega Harry didn't like cake and wants to throw up when his alpha kisses him.

Love After the End of the World by writing_practice / @mercurial-madhouse

[Harry/Louis, Explicit, 150k, tumblr post]

“Wait. Just so I’m clear in me fucking noggin,” Niall says. “An international worldwide takeover is well under way and the only thing standing between having hot showers and a second end of the world is us five fuckers?”

-----

Society shattered when all electricity suddenly cut off across the globe, plunging the world into darkness. Now, Prometheus Industries is the sole remaining supply of power, a saving grace to those who survived Lights Out. As fugitives in no-man’s land struggling to break into Prometheus HQ, death lurks around every corner for Louis and Zayn. Things get complicated when a routine recon falls apart and Louis collides with Harry and his mates Niall and Liam, survivors with their own agenda.

When staying alive is already a constant battle, the deadliest weakness is to be in love. For Harry and Louis, finding each other sits on top of the endless list of What Else Could Go Wrong.

Hometown by @allwaswell16

[Louis/Harry, Not Rated, 2k, tumblr post]

On the day Harry gets his driver’s licence, he drives through the suburbs, heartbroken that he can’t drive home to Louis.

Baby Blues by @kingsofeverything

[Louis/Harry, Explicit, 12K, tumblr post]

8 mpreg Harry snippets originally posted on Tumblr. Mostly smut ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

But If This Ends by nonsensedarling / @absoloutenonsense

[Harry/Louis, Explicit, 107k, tumblr post]

Harry’s life as a vampire is routine. He spends his years moving around from place to place, learning as much as he can, and falling in love whenever the universe sees fit. When he tries to move his casual relationship with Louis to something more, it all gets turned on its head. As they navigate confusing thoughts and complex emotions, Harry finds himself torn between the love he feels for Louis and everything he thought he knew.

Featuring pet names, love letters, secrets, meaningful friendships, and two insecure boys desperately in love.

Pretty in Pink by lovelarry / @chloehl10

[Louis/Harry, Explicit, 18k, tumblr post]

“Love? Can I come in?”

Harry sniffed and shook his head before he realised Louis couldn’t see him. “No. Go home, Lou. Please.”

“I’m not leaving,” the Omega insisted, his voice full of concern. “And I’m not judging either. Just… talk to me, Haz.”

Harry briefly considered changing or at least ripping everything off and greeting Louis in his boxers before he realised that might actually be worse, that Louis had seen him dressed up and there was no need to hide anymore. He meekly shuffled over to the door and pulled it open before he backed away, refusing to meet Louis’ eyes.

To the Omega’s credit, he walked straight over to Harry and wrapped his arms around him from behind, resting his cheek between Harry’s shoulder blades.

“This top feels nice. Soft. I see why you like it,” Louis said quietly from behind him.

*****

Alpha Harry loves to secretly dress up and be pretty. He loves his feminine side, even if it’s not typical of an Alpha. But when Omega Louis finds out, it might just the start of something even more beautiful for them both...

Plant New Seeds In The Melody by @vintageumbroshirt / 28sunflowers

[Louis/Harry, Explicit, 58k, tumblr post]

After losing his husband in a tragic car accident, the last thing Louis needs is to keep running into popstar Harry Styles, who David was quite fond of.

Obviously, that’s exactly what keeps happening.

But as their unlikely friendship blossoms, Louis realizes that, maybe, having Harry in his life was the only good thing that came out of his adverse circumstances. Harry could be just the right person to help Louis find trust and intimacy in someone new.

We are the same, you run in my veins by @vintageumbroshirt / 28sunflowers

[Louis/Harry, General, 4k, tumblr post]

When the time for Louis to become the Alpha leader of his pack comes, he can’t rise to the occasion for not being yet bonded. A series of trips to neighbouring packs in search of his soulmate is fruitless until he meets one of the other packs’ Alpha heir.

Harry.

The world seems to stop turning for a second and then it shifts, clicking into its axis. All the distress and wrongness he felt until that very moment suddenly disappears. Louis is finally whole.

But two Alpha leaders from different tribes soulbonding is something unheard of before.

evergreen, evermore by docklands / @hershelsue

[Louis/Harry, General, 2k, tumblr post]

The year is 1979. Their entire lives, Harry and Louis have lived in Chichester, home to the best watermelons in the world. An unruffled life in the country has always served their long term friendship well. It all shifts when Harry has to move away to a bigger city due to his mother’s job, albeit his love for his hometown and for Louis. It’s even harsher when the moving truck leaves on his birthday, of all days. When all seems lost, Louis ends up having to pull some strings to ease the pain in Harry’s heart.

When The High's Too High, and the Low's Too Low by DaysLikeMasquerades

[Louis/Harry, Mature, 22k+ (wip)]

Two perspectives of growing up neurodivergent

Some days Harry wondered if he would ever find a friend who could look past all the things he couldn't change. Someone who didn't care that he could spend hours talking about his latest fascination without calling him obsessed. Who didn't laugh when he couldn't stop his hands from expressing his emotions. Who didn't care that he was 13, but he'd start crying if he went into too many stores, because they were too bright, too loud, too smelly, and it was all just too overwhelming. Some days he thought someone like that just didn't exist.

Most nights Louis wondered if there would ever come a time when he didn't hate himself. When he would learn to control his emotions and the mood swings that seemed to take over everything and leave no room for himself. He wondered how he could live with himself when he only seemed to hurt the people he loved. His teachers thought he was a wonderful boy, but he knew the truth. Most nights he cried himself into exhaustion wondering how it was possible to feel so broken at only 15. He wanted to be happy, but he didn't know how and that scared him more than anything. Most nights he just hoped he could figure it out before it was too late.

Make You Never Wanna Leave (so Don’t) by @beelou / cherrylarry

[Louis/Harry, Explicit, 3k, tumblr post]

“You look hot in plaid.” “What?” “I said you look like a dad.” “No, you didn't.” “Yes, I certainly did, Harold. You have no proof.” -- Or, the one where Harry wears plaid.

a little tenderness by @disgruntledkittenface

[Harry/Niall, Not rated, 10k, tumblr post]

“Listen, my alpha and I broke up and it turns out that all of our friends were really his friends and I need someone to help me through–”

“No,” Harry practically shouts, the word bursting out of him unbidden. He cringes when he sees the shock on Niall’s face, his pale skin flushing lightly. “I’m sorry, but my answer has to be no. I don’t help omegas through heats. I’m really sorry, Liam knows that, so I don’t know why he would give you the idea–”

“It’s not heat, Harry,” Niall interrupts. “It’s depri.”

“Oh. Fuck.”

Touch deprivation makes a lot of sense now that Harry thinks about it. Niall seems generally unwell; he appears to be weak, his skin is pallid and his lips look chapped, and his breathing is ragged. He’s wearing a cozy-looking sweatshirt, but even over FaceTime, he kind of seems cold, hunched over with his arms wrapped around his body. Harry’s never been around an omega in depri as bad off as Niall looks; most of the time, there’s an alpha friend or family member who can help out with scenting and physical contact.

Oh.

#28th appreciation #tracksintheam #trackinghome #1dsource #fic rec #may 2021

58 notes · View notes

angelguk · 5 years

Text

→ mon amour... - a jeongguk scenario

member: jeon jeongguk

word count: 3.3k

genre: established relationship + domestic + fluff + smut

warnings: rather soft smut / oral (fem receiving) / grinding / fingering / fucking on everything but the bed / jeongguk loves oc a lot / they are horny newly weds / mild mpreg kink

soundtrack: la javanaise, madeleine peyroux

The evening sun is dipping below the horizon, spilling hues of vibrant fuchsia, glowing amber and soft azure in its wake. The colours flux into each other, staining the skies and tinging the hue of clouds scattered above. You’d seen the weather notice. Summer was quickly coming to an end, and the new season was being ushered in by brief rain showers. You’d been caught in one the other day, your shoes ending up utterly soaked and the papers you were meant to be grading were partially damaged too. Although the papers were salvageable, your new velvet heels – not so much. Luckily, you’d decided to stay into today, completing reviewing the last couple of essays with an occasional episode of the Office sneaked into your breaks. You’d finished earlier than you’d expected, so you’d taken the liberty to meander out to your balcony, a silk robe wrapped around your figure and a glass of red wine in your hand, to watch as the day ended and night began.

The afternoon heat dwindled in the warm air, the scent of rain already settling above the quaint town you’d moved into a little over a year ago. Somewhere on the street, there’s a person plucking a violin. The saccharine melody glides up to your apartment, accompanied by the incessant chatter of voices and tinkle of bell bikes as people head home. You soak it in, taking sporadic sips of wine as you mould yourself into the plush velour balcony cushions. Your eyes keep fluttering closed, the cool breeze caressing your skin has you feeling serene. You should probably head back in soon, shut the balcony doors so the rain doesn’t seep into your apartment and drench your carpet, maybe start dinner. But the pure ease you feel keeps you planted outside, despite the sun nearly gone and your glass empty now, happy like a content purring kitten.

The click of the door tells you he’s home.

Your eyes are shut now, the last rays of sunlight illuminating your face, but you can still hear him puttering about, tossing his shoes into the corner instead of on the rack, dumping his jacket onto one of the kitchen chairs like he always does, until you hear him lean against the balcony doorway, softly tutting at you.

“You look relaxed,” He says.

You force your eyes open, giving him a good-natured glare. “Let me live my best life, you party pooper.”

Jeongguk grins, striding forward to plant a kiss onto your forehead. The glasses on his nose slips down and bumps against your skull but you don’t mind it, melting into the warmth of his kiss. “You’re obviously in a good mood,” He mumbles against your skin. Before you can retort back, he’s pulling you into his arms, yanking you away from your comfy seat and into the air. You lean into it, revelling in the way Jeongguk’s firm muscles feel around your waist, holding you steadily. Your chests are pressed against each other, the rush of both your heartbeats filling your ears and warming your cheeks. Your noses bump together and beneath his glasses, you can see the bright adoration and love in his chestnut eyes. You know you’re staring at him in the same way.

“Hello, wife,” He murmurs against your lips.

“Hello, husband,” You reply, your heart skipping in your chest.

His smile softens, the grip on your waist winding its way down to your bare thighs. He slips his hand beneath the fabric of your robe, lightly clutching at your thighs. You can see the agenda of tonight in his eyes, but you need to know something before that.

“Have you eaten dinner?” You ask, gliding your hands into his hair. He’s due for a cut soon, but there’s something oddly charming about the way wisps of his dark hair get caught in his vision. Jeongguk dissolves into your touch, his own eyes flickering shut and the hand on your thigh suddenly going taut. He hums as you drag your nails against his scalp, the bulge in his pants digging into your hip.

“No. But I’m not that hungry.”

“Jeongguk, we talked about this. You need to talk better care of yourself. Let me go and cook something.”

You make a move to get away but he yanks your right back colliding his chest against yours. He shifts his hips so that his crotch is pressed right against your own. Your underwear is sticking to you but you’re trying your best to ignore that.

“I would rather fuck my wife on the dining table right now, instead of eating dinner.” He murmurs against your warm skin, pressing a kiss against the span of skin between your neck and shoulder. Before you can wiggle your way out, Jeongguk is rolling his bulge into you, eliciting a rush of wetness from your cunt. It drenches your panties, leaving a wet stain you know he can feel. His mouth is on your neck, tongue kneading into the skin and drawing out a dark bruise. You can’t help but sigh into it, rolling your own hips back seeking some sort of pressure onto your clit. It’s obscene, the way you grind onto him in the open, rutting into each other with desperation you never knew you could feel until you met Jeongguk.

He’s reading your body, grasping your hips to steady the way you drag your clothed cunt against his crotch, slowing the pace before bucking into you hard. You helplessly take it, the familiar knot of your orgasm tightening your gut. You’re not close but the build is there, humming beneath your skin with need. You want to give in, want to roll over onto the balcony sofa and have Jeongguk fuck you right there and then but the little comment from Mrs. Min gave you the other day has you pushing him away.

He looks confused, his glasses misty and his once pressed shirt mussed from you gripping helplessly onto the fabric. “Do you not what too?” His voice is small.

“Of course I do. But not here, Mrs. Min said something about seeing me naked on the balcony the other day and I’d rather not have an old woman see my tits twice,” You say, taking his hand and drawing him inside. The bright smile returns to his lips and something strange settles in your heart.

“Of course she shouldn’t. Only I’m allowed to look at your tits.” His glasses are placed haphazardly onto the coffee table and then he’s tugging at your robe, pulling it off onto the floor so that you’re standing in only a loose t-shirt that you’d stolen from his closet. The balcony door is still open behind him, the breeze tugging at the curtains, but you don’t care, focusing instead on undressing your husband as quickly as you can.

“Shut up,” You reply, making quick work of the buttons on his shirt. “You said you’d fuck me on the dining table.”

“The couch is closer babe and relax, let me love you first.”

Your clothes drop to the ground together, Jeongguk’s shirt and your own crumpled on the carpet, the sounds of your giggles permeating the air. “Alright then, love me, husband.”

There’s a sparkle in his brown eyes as he pushes your naked body onto the couch, the cushions are soft beneath your bare thighs. Jeongguk spreads your legs apart, making room for his bulky body, hands landing on your neck to draw your gaze upwards. He stares down at you for a moment, eyes flickering between yours with words unspoken. Then he’s dipping his head down, slotting your lips together in a kiss that says what his mouth can’t.

His lips are warm, gentle presses of his mouth against yours coaxing your own mouth open. He tastes like coffee, bitter against your tongue, a stark contrast to the sweet wine you were drinking earlier, but you don’t care, eagerly mapping his mouth open. He groans against you, the sound causing your thighs tense up and your stomach to dip harshly. He’s kissing you like you’re the other thing in his world that matters, his palms caressing the base of your skull as he holds your head in place. Your own hands journey over his skin, settling on the waistband of his trousers that should have been off ages ago. You yank at them, feeling Jeongguk smile against your lips. When he pulls away his eyes are glazy, eyelashes brushing against his cheek with every heavy close of them.

“You’re needy tonight.” He nips at your neck, moving to chuck off his pants.

You pout. “You’re the one that came home and tried to fuck me on our balcony.”

The wink he gives you makes your heart flutter. “It’s not my fault my wife looks so beautiful at the damn time.” His pants hit the floor with a thud. Jeongguk roughly kicks them away before dropping to his knees, taking your thighs in his hands so that he can spread them apart.

Your breath catches in your throat when he leans in, licking a delicate strip against your clothed pussy, tongue lingering on the wet spot you’d made on the fabric. You’ve got your hand in his hair, tugging at the strands, as he takes his time. He gently rolls the tip of his tongue over your sensitive nub, pressing through the fabric in a way that has your back arching off pillows and shamelessly grinding into his face. Your moans colour the air, the cool breeze sweeping into the room chilling your sweaty skin. Jeongguk chuckles between your legs, pressing a kiss on your wet panties before hooking his fingers into the band. You help him pull them off, lifting your hips that they slide down. He tosses them across the room, eyes glimmering.

The sun had disappeared entirely by now and the moon had steadily taken its place. Moonlight shimmers down through your open balcony doors, illuminating your dark living room in a glowing radiance, the light appearing like a halo behind his ruffled dark hair. You ache to kiss him again, the love in your heart hurting. But Jeongguk’s preoccupied, eyes dark as he stares at your exposed cunt.

The wet lick of his tongue against you makes you jolt hard, body reacting before you can even register the movement. He devours you, sharp flickers and long drags of his tongue against your dripping folds driving you insane. He knows what you like, knows how to suck on your clit in a way that makes you squeal from pleasure, knows how to sink his tongue into your dripping hole and fuck into it so that your clenching around nothing, wishing that his fingers or cock were filling you instead. But given by the way he’s eating you out tonight, Jeongguk doesn’t want anything but to stretch you out with his tongue. You don’t mind, fucking yourself right back on his mouth until his lips are shiny with your slick and his hair is ruined from the tight grip you’ve got on it. He just grins, the strain of his cock in his boxers spurring him on. He needs you to unravel on his tongue. Wants to see the way your chest will heave and your body will shudder when your high comes crashing down. Wants to feel you squirm beneath his tongue, begging him to stop.

The pit in your gut tells you he’ll get what he’s chasing after tonight. You’re rolling your hips into his face, moaning every time his tongue dips further inside you, playing with your walls, before slipping out and dripping your slick all over your hard clit. When he latches his mouth onto it, sucking in hard, your vision goes white.

“Jeongguk! Baby – oh, f-fuck!” You spill on his tongue, your slick dripping down his chin. You can’t even open your eyes, thighs twitching every time he presses another kiss to your folds. You swat his head away, reeling at how sensitive your clit is right now. “Stop doing that. Just fuck me already. Please.”

He tuts at your demands but he’s up from the floor, palming at his hard dick through his boxers. “Alright then princess, get up for me.” You rise despite how numb your legs feel. You knees threaten to buckle beneath you as Jeongguk settles into the couch, legs spread wide. He’d pulled off his underwear, leaving his thick cock exposed to the night air, red tip hard and angry, leaking come over his lined abdomen. You want to drop to your knees, pleasure your husband the way he’d done for you but Jeongguk is staring at you hard, making your gut twist with want. He pats his thigh, the thick muscle there tense beneath his golden skin.

“Come ride my cock, kitten.”

You clamber into his lap, fumbling around until you’re comfortable enough to settle into a position, knees digging into the couch. Jeongguk’s got a palm pressed against the small of your back, keeping you steady. He leans back, making room for you to line his leaking cock with your wet hole. When the head of his dick brushes against your folds he can’t help but bite his lip, the other hand on your hip urging you downwards. But before you sink down on hip, you cup his chin and pull his mouth downwards onto yours. Jeongguk kisses you like his life depends on it, losing himself in your touch as you shift around, angling his dick before sitting down hard.

“Fuck.” He’s groaning in your mouth, hip bucking up because you’re tight and snug around his cock. Your wet walls milking him for all he’s worth. You revel in the stretch of your husband’s dick, he’s thick and perfect filling you up until you feel him in your guts. You rise, dragging his cock out of your cunt, now coated in your slick, before slamming right back down. You slip into a steady rhythm, riding him roughly, your tits bouncing in his face and your walls clinging onto him. It’s insane, how good he stretches you out, fucking you open like no one has ever before. It’s heady almost, to glance down and see the way he disappears inside you, reappearing shiny with your slick. You can’t believe you get to have this for the rest of your life. This man who loves you like you’re the only burning star in his universe, who’s looking at your riding his dick with the utmost love in his eyes, who makes you feel complete in the most inexplicable way possible.

“You’re so pretty,” He moans into your ear, hands settling your hips so that he has more leverage to fuck you with from below. “My pretty wife, riding my cock. Ugh – fuck. Mine forever. N-never letting you go. You’re – oh like that! Fuck you’re tight – stuck with me.”

His words make your head swim with desire, the familiar knot from before taking residence in the pit of your core once more. “You’re mine forever too,” You say against the crook of his neck, gripping on his shoulders tightly as you bounce on his dick. The wet squelch where you meet punctuates the air, intertwining with your shared heavy pants. Jeongguk thrusts hard into your cunt when you say that, drawing a squeal from your parted lips, another gush of slick coating your thighs.

“Keep talking like that and I’ll put a baby in you.”

Oh – oh. That has you clenching around him hard, walls clinging to his cock until he’s cursing against your ear, begging you let up because he’ll come if don’t. When you do pull off, your thighs are shuddering with every movement, your breath catching in your throat and your thighs are sticky. Jeongguk’s watching you with wide eyes, concern colouring his gaze.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah – just. I don’t know what happened.” You do, but you don’t want to admit it.

His gaze softens. He knows. “The baby thing?”

You don’t answer, still hovering above his hard dick. Your skin is hot despite the breeze snaking its way in. You still don’t want to admit it. Jeongguk isn’t bothered by it though, gently taking your arm and guiding you back down.

“Is it alright with you if I fuck a baby into my wife?” He asks, eyes twinkling.

“You’re stupid,” You scoff. “I’m divorcing you.”

“You love me,” He retorts, hand trailing down your stomach. His fingers swirl around your clit, flicking hard so that you lurch forward.

“I do,” You whine, feeling helpless as Jeongguk dips his fingers into your cunt. He’s grinning so bright, filling your heart with an emotion so strong that it feels like it’s going to explode. But you ride down on his hand, squealing when he curls his fingers just right slamming into a spot that has your bones feeling like mush. It hit your hard and unexpected. You come around his hand, clenching desperately on his fingers as you ride it out, your vision fading out and the need to lie down and rest overtaking every twitching muscle.

You’re so blissed out that you miss how hard Jeongguk still is. But he doesn’t let you forget for long. You yelp when he picks you up, eyes shooting open even though you weren’t aware that you’d closed them in the first place. “What? What are you doing?”

“I’m going to fuck my wife on our dining table,” He says.

You can’t even object, sighing when he sets you down lightly on to the edge of the cool wood surface. You watch, gaze blurry, as he spreads your apart, shifting closer until his cock is pressing into your fucked hole. He slips in with no resistance, filling you up until you’re overcome with pleasure. Jeongguk fucks into you hard, bottoming out and slamming right back in again and again. It’s lewd, the wet noises your cunt makes as you take his dick, the slap of his balls against your ass hitting the air hard. You dig your nails into his back, reeling in the way Jeongguk jolts into when you do so. You’ll be sore tomorrow for sure but right now all you can think about is making him come deep inside you. So you groan into his ear, squeezing your walls around his hard cock and buck into his desperate thrusts. He’s close from the way he twitches inside you, thrusts more wild and needy now, searching for his own high. You urge him on, whining his name until he’s grinding his dick inside you, head thrown back. His skin shimmers with sweat, making his dark hair damp, the strands clinging to his forehead. You watch him reach it, his stomach caving in and his hips stutter into your own, mouth wide open, a groan etched into his beautiful face.

You kiss him hard when he calms down, loving the way his skin is warm and flushed under your hands. It takes him a while to slip out from your cunt and you can feel his dick twitching with promise when he finally pulls out.

“You should stop taking the pill if you want me to put a baby in your,” He murmurs against your lips, hands squeezing your hips.

“Shut up. Pretend that never happened.”

“How can I? My pretty girl nearly coming all over my dick when I say I want to put a baby in her? You know that’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Nice to know,” You retort, even though that small statement has something hot swooping in your gut. Another gust comes swooping into the living room, causing your skin to prickle.

“Fuck,” You say, staring at the open balcony door. “Close that, please! Mrs. Min is never going to let this go.”

“Can I fuck you against the wall if I do?” His eyebrow is quirked and there’s a smirk tugging at his lips. You punch his shoulder, shoving him lightly into the direction of the door. The laugh that leaves his throat warms your heart and leaves your skin buzzing.

#jungkook smut #btssmutclub #smutcentralnet #btswriterscollective #btswritingcafe

2K notes · View notes

starkerforlife6969 · 5 years

Text

Howard Buys Tony an Omega Part 7

Can be read as standalone. Read the rest here: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

TW: mpreg, a/o and an insane amount of fluff, over-protective Tony

In a penthouse apartment on Fifth Avenue, dinner is ready.

Tony steps through the front door, only for the smell of well-seasoned lobster and deep saffron to make his eyes drift shut and his mouth salivate.

Well, it seems Peter’s started on dinner.

He shakes his head fondly as he shrugs out of his summer jacket and hangs it up on the hook. As usual, the house is spotless. Decorated in hues of silver and crystal and glass, it’s the definition of Upper East Side elegance. Even though it’s a sticky summer outside, the fireplace is roaring and the floor to ceiling windows overlooking Central Park are spilling in the late evening sunshine.

“Peter?” Tony calls, heading towards the kitchen. As hungry as he is, there’s one thing he wants more.

Sure enough, sprinkling two heaped dishes with parsley, is his omega.

He’s only two months in, so he’s not showing just yet, and the satin white summer dress is cinched loosely at the weight with a big chiffon bow, and Tony can’t help but rush over and scoop the his princess into the air for a twirl.

Peter screeches with delight, leaves of herbs still on his fingers as he clings to Tony’s shoulders. The alpha sets him down and Peter stretches up onto his tiptoes, greedy for a kiss.

Tony pecks his nose instead; teasing. “Whatcha cookin’, good lookin’?”

Peter giggles, still reaching up for a kiss. “Some lobster.” He frowns, eyebrows scrunching together. “I know we had seafood yesterday, but I…” he looks up suddenly, and Tony knows he’s saddened at the thought that maybe Tony doesn’t want seafood again, and Tony nips that in the bud.

“It smells divine. Besides, you’re just getting cravings. Is my little baby going to love seafood?” He settles his hand over Peter’s stomach and the omega takes advantage of his bowed head to steal a kiss.

Tony deepens it around a smile.

***

Two months later, Tony pauses in the grand foyer.

There’s a new bouquet almost bursting out of a vase.

It’s not one that Tony bought. He would know. He buys Peter blue roses and big, purple jasmines with gold buds.

This bouquet is full of dandelions and sunflowers and shoots of lavender.

He brushes some of the flowers apart, but there’s no card.

No one sent it. But that means-

Fear, horrible and panicky, rushes through him, as he heads straight for the kitchen.

Peter isn’t there. There’s no dinner either.

He’s not in the library or out in the balcony or fast asleep snuggled up in bed. With each guest room Tony throws open, the more bile he can taste in the back of his throat.

Then he sees the door to the solarium slightly ajar.

Relief sparks, and sure enough, he sees Peter curled up on a lounger, head buried in a storybook.

It’s The Little Mermaid 2- Return to the Sea. Tony can’t help the fondness that squeezes his heart. Peter loves fairytales, and now he loves anything that has to do with kids, or children, or parenting in stories.

He can hardly stand to read Rapunzel anymore. To read of the Alpha King and Omega Queen losing their baby.

Tony’s taken to hiding it in the library, because he can’t bear to see his omega upset.

Now though, he looks completely content. Drenched in sunshine, reading languidly amidist the vinery and crawling plants, the lush green of their little indoor garden, dressed in a loose-fitting satin robe, one hand curled around his belly and the other turning the pages of his book.

“Baby,” Tony mutters, coming inside. It’s a little too warm, but that’s probably why Peter’s here. He feels the cold too keenly with his pregnancy. “I was looking for you.”

Peter looks up in surprise, before turning to see the clock and gasping. “Alpha! I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

“It’s alright, it’s okay,” Tony soothes, sitting beside him, pulling his boy onto his lap and laying a hand on his stomach. “You’re doing good, yeah? I was so worried.” He puts his nose to Peter’s neck- just inhales, for a moment. The omega’s soft skin is warm to the touch, his cheeks red with sunlight. “Baby, you got somethin’ to tell me?”

He can feel the flutter of Peter’s eyelashes as the boy blinks up at him owlishly. “Um…”

He clearly doesn’t know. Tony sighs. “You left the apartment, sweetheart. You went and picked flowers in the park, I- I told you, you can’t be going out on your own, what if- what if you got hurt?”

“Silly,” Peter beams, kissing Tony’s jaw with unbearable tenderness. “I’m okay! There were lots of flowers, I put them in a basket. I also bought some blueberries, I thought I could make us a pie!”

Tony laughs, but his voice is still distraught. “Peter, you have to promise. C’mon, you want more flowers? I’ll have a fucking florists delivered here. You have everything you need, you shouldn’t be going outside without me.”

Peter looks sad. “Walking helps,” he confides quietly, touching Tony’s hand on his belly, “when it hurts…”

Tony kisses his forehead, hard. “We have a gym in the building, gorgeous,” he pleads, “nice and safe, with surveillance and security. All good and exclusive, no need to leave, huh? I can come back from the lab earlier. And- if you need fresh air, we have the private patio, is it not big enough? I’ll have them make it bigger. We can buy the penthouse on the floor below and if you need company, you know my mom’s just been dying to see yo-”

His voice cracks in its desperation, and his omega looks up in alarm, big eyes worried. “Alpha!”

“Peter,” he breathes, when those arms are flung around him. He holds him tight. “We’re just starting out, don’t you see? I’m- fuck, I’m 25 years old, and your my everything, and we’re gonna have a baby, and if something happened to you- I don’t- I don’t know what I’d do.”

Small thumbs stroke his cheeks, and he blinks away tears as Peter gazes him- eyes brimming with love. “I promise to stay here.” He says, like taking a vow, “and you promise to always, always wear your safety goggles.”

Tony snorts, nodding, and Peter nuzzles into his caress like he’s been starved of it.

After a while though, the omega pouts. “I need to make you dinner,” he sniffles, even as he pushes closer. “And pie. But I don’t wanna leave you.”

“Uh uh uh, honey-bee,” Tony murmurs, stroking his fingers through Peter’s curls, “you just told me that you feel pain. I told you to tell me the second you started feeling sore, but you’ve been keeping that from me. I’m getting us a chef and a maid. You’ll sit with your feet up all day.”

Peter protests with a huff and a whine. “But I wanna make your food! A chef won’t- they won’t make sure you get all the- the right stuff, I- I was top of my class in Nutrition, I- I’ll keep you big and strong and-”

Tony laughs, bright and warm, and tickles Peter’s side until the boy is almost crying with glee. “No room for argument, sweetheart. For tonight, let’s get some take out. I’m thinking Pancake House?”

Peter almost leaps with enthusiasm, before looking more shy. “That’s- if you like.”

Tony rolls his eyes fondly. “We’ll buy out the whole store.”

***

When Peter is eight months pregnant, he cries into the toilet bowl in the middle of the night- trying to keep quiet so as not to disturb his Alpha.

It makes Tony so damn angry. “Please, baby,” he croons, wiping Peter’s face with a cold cloth, “could you just be a little selfish? For me? Just wake me up, okay? I’ll be here for you, I’m here.”

Peter wipes his tears into Tony’s chest, rubbing at his back like it hurts.

Tony immediately starts doing it for him, until the omega sags in relief.

“You need your rest,” Peter protests, and Tony nips at his ear.

“Be selfish.” He orders.

There’s a long moment, before Peter says, whisper-quiet, “maybe some bagels? With...salmon, if-if we have any.”

Tony takes his orders as seriously as a soldier in war. He leaves his boy with a kiss and then checks the kitchen.

No bagels.

No matter, he’s Tony Stark. He calls down to the doorman to expect a delivery, and then calls some other people. Drops his name. His father’s name. Promises them quite a lot of money for prompt delivery at 1am in the morning.

It takes ten minutes for ten bagels, covered in cream cheese and salmon, to come to the front door.

“Thanks, Paco,” Tony says to the doorman, as they quietly exchange goods.

“Not a problem, Mr Stark,” Paco promises, “I hope your bellisima omega feels better. The baby is due soon?”

“About a month,” Tony grins, chest puffing with pride. He carries his haul back to the bedroom, where Peter is now curled up on the bed, nuzzling into Tony’s pillow. “Look what I found in the kitchen,” he beams, presenting Peter with a bagel.

The pretty thing eats it right out of his hand, moaning happily. Tony sits down, tucking Peter into his side, feeding him bagels.

He feels so content there. He has his family in his arms.

He wants for nothing.

Read the rest here: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

Those who wanted to be tagged- I love you! x @catastropheismyfirstname @peterparkers-sparkles @djspooky-jim@godlovesstarker @harmonystarker @atypicalmeposts @betty-bloom@that-tiny-dumb-artist @laughing-oreo @thatmarvelstan @book-lover-k@haylove5 @scarletsoldierrr @buckettbarnes @hoe4parker@buckettbarnes @8bitbowie @w1nters-stark @softly-starker @prettyboy-parker

#starker #a/o dynamics #alpha tony #omega peter #established relationship #m preg #howard buys tony an omega #part 7 #fluff #rich tony #tooth rotting fluff #over protective tony #protective tony

463 notes · View notes

our-smooty · 4 years

Text

Flowerbeds and Fertile Soil: Chapter 9

Fandom: Good Omens

Rating: Explicit

Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens, )Anathema Device/Newton Pulsifer

Tags: Kidfic, Mpreg kind of, they can choose to present however so idk, Crowley Has A Vulva (Good Omens), Crowley Has A Penis (Good Omens), Aziraphale Has A Penis (Good Omens), Aziraphale Has A Vulva (Good Omens), OCs Galor, parenting, using your snake form to avoid confrontation, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Pregnancy, if I missed a tag lemme know

Summary: They could do anything, go anywhere, all without the worry of Above or Bellow making a fuss. Even so, they mostly kept to their little patch of Eden, their cottage and garden and the simple life they’d carved out among the locals. Aziraphale opened a book shop in town, where he only occasionally sold any books (and the ones he did sell, were all modern and stocked specifically for that purpose). Crowley focused his attentions on the garden, and if he occasionally helped their elderly neighbour with her disobedient willow tree, then that was a secret no one needed to know. Lately, however, they had both been feeling rather restless, unbeknownst to each other. Aziraphale tried reorganizing his store, changing the way he tied his bowtie and even ate pizza –something he considered to be far too messy for him personally. Crowley had branched out into birdwatching, and then car maintenance (the human way), and even reading. Nothing scratched the itch for either of them.

Ao3 Link

Things improved slowly. Not the being sick, or the dizziness, that was still rubbish, but between him and Aziraphale. Aziraphale was much more mindful of his hovering and Crowley was getting used to actually asking for things instead of keeping everything to himself. It made life a lot easier, even if it was uncomfortable. He didn’t have to pretend to be alright all the time for one thing, which meant he didn’t have to feel as bad about not taking Aziraphale out for meals and dates. He didn’t have to, though he still did sometimes. It was something that still kept him up some nights, the idea that he wasn’t giving Aziraphale enough anymore. If that was the case, then the angel hadn’t said anything, but Crowley still worried.

His morning sickness hadn’t faded, though the tea and herbs helped in the moment. Most mornings and many early afternoons had been spent with a bucket at the bedside and Crowley’s head pillowed in Aziraphale’s shoulder as he took tiny bites of cracker and even tinier sips of tea. Usually by midafternoon he was feeling alright enough to get up and putter around the garden, though with the quickly changing weather there wasn’t much to be done for the plants themselves. And doing the raking by hand was a little more than he could manage most of the time. So he did what he could without throwing up everywhere, and used a miracle for the rest.

About a month after Alfie’s birth Crowley was sick--no pun intended--to death of being laid up in bed. He wanted to go out and do things again, especially with Aziraphale. There had to be something they could go out and enjoy together. He could have texted Anathema for ideas, but after the way he stormed out a few weeks ago… well it wasn’t high on his to-do list.

“Angle,” he whined one afternoon as they were once again relaxing on the sofa. Aziraphale had his nose in a book, one he’d read and re-read enough times to have it memorized. “Angle I’m bored. I want to go do something.”

Aziraphale hardly looked up from his book. “Like what dear? We tried going out to eat last week but the food and the smells made you sick. We tried walking around town and you nearly collapsed fifteen minutes in. I thought we agreed to take some time to relax, at least until you’re feeling better.”

“I am feeling better,” Crowley said with all the petulance of a 4-year-old child. “I didn’t get sick at all this morning, did I?”

Aziraphale thought for a moment, and Crowley felt the beginnings of a victorious smile on his own lips. “No, and you were out of bed earlier than normal. I guess if you’re up to it we could--”

“Yes! Whatever it is yes just get me out of this house!” Crowley sprung up, his clothes magically shifting into the jacket and skinny jeans he usually wore out. Around the house he’d taken to leggings and comfortable shirts out of convenience, so it had been a little while. His trousers felt tighter than normal which made him wiggle his hips with discomfort. “Now. Let's go now.”

Aziraphale blinked for a moment, startled by Crowley’s sudden movements, but smiled fondly. It made something in Crowley’s stomach match the funny feeling in his hips. “You don’t even know what I was going to suggest dear.” The book was set aside anyway, it’s well-worn and well-repaired cover thumped softly against the wood. “What if I was going to say we should go to that town hall meeting being held in the village?”

“You wouldn’t.” Crowley narrowed his eyes, the yellow slits piercing and unwavering. “You hate those meetings just as much as I do. What was it you called Mrs. Thompson after the last one? A fussy old bi--”

“Yes, well. I wasn’t going to suggest that. Just teasing you dear,” Aziraphale interrupted, a tinge of pink to his cheeks. “I thought we might take the Bently out, down some of the country roads. Take in the Autumn leaves.”

Crowley hopped from foot to foot excitedly. “Good, good. We can do that, let me get my keys.” In his eagerness he nearly tripped over his own feet as he grabbed his jacket--the one Aziraphale had gotten him that always seemed to radiate the warmth his own reptilian body couldn’t. Behind him he could hear Aziraphale’s exasperated sigh. “I’m good, I’m fine. Let's go.”

They drove around for hours, Aziraphale admiring the changing leaves and Crowley enjoying the feel of the Bently’s engine rumbling smoothly beneath him. The back roads were completely clear, which may have been Aziraphale’s doing, he wasn’t sure, but it meant that he could go as fast as he wanted, his previously bland mood bleeding out through the shaking steel. There was something about driving that was so different from any other mode of transportation and pushing his car to the limit of its speed capabilities always gave him a special kind of rush.

“Did you see that oak back there? What a lovely shade of orange. Oh and that maple! Simply gorgeous! I do wish I’d thought to bring my camera.” Crowley was only half listening because the road was getting particularly windy and he needed to focus. “We could have a picnic when you’re feeling up to eating more.”

“Mhm,” Crowley answered, taking a particularly tough corner nice and smoothly. A tingle went up his spine at the satisfaction of a well pulled off maneuver. “Sounds good.”

Aziraphale happily flapped his right hand in Crowley’s direction. “Wonderful! Hopefully that will happen soon, Anathema did say hers got much better after the first trimester.”

Crowley still wasn’t paying attention, but he knew that wouldn’t deter his angel from nattering on for the foreseeable future. Aziraphale could, and would talk for hours uninterrupted, especially on a topic he was passionate about. Picnics and food in general were definitely two of those topics.

“Do you remember those little sandwiches we had last year, at that delightful bristo with the sunny garden patio? I know you say watercress is boring but you have to admit the bread really balanced it out. Anyway, I recently found this bakery the next town over and their bread is so much like the one from the bistro I thought I might take a crack at making a few sandwiches of my own. And wouldn’t that be lovely, making a picnic spread by ourselves instead of ordering the food. Even if we have so many wonderful options…”

Crowley let Aziraphale’s voice fade into the background, a familiar drone. One that he’d enjoyed for millenia and it was comforting in a way. Between the rattle of the Bently’s frame and the sound of Aziraphale’s voice he was essentially, exactly where he wanted to be. Exactly where he needed to be to relieve the intense boredom that had plagued him while he’d been basically house-bound

“--and we could bring a comfortable chair for you; I read somewhere that carrying a child could be dreadful on the back. But we could also do something else if you prefer, maybe a trip somewhere warm where those dates you still like are in season?”

Of course Aziraphale was always thinking about him and his comfort. Things had been easier since Crowley started asking for things and Aziraphale started offering instead of just doing. It made accepting the angel’s care less complicated if his brain couldn’t skew it as charity or pity. If he asked for it, then he could control it, control how much other people were involved. Sometimes he almost wanted to laugh at how stupid it was but it worked.

An unsettling wobbling feeling in his stomach made Crowley ease up off the accelerator for a few moments. Was it the morning sickness making itself known as they were easing into mid-afternoon? Because the name “morning sickness” was complete and utter bollocks as far as Crowley was concerned. It didn’t feel like he was going to be sick though. Move like a restless moving feeling. Maybe it was because his pants weren’t fitting right? He couldn’t think of any other reason for the weird feeling, so he pushed it aside and slammed the pedal to the floorboards once again. Aziraphale continued on talking.

“--and a picnic would let us relax and enjoy the scenery, which I can only see a little of now. I do wish you’d slow down, at least on the turns darling. There’s so much we’re probably missing!”

“Trees, fields, idyllic countryside views. Not missing much we don’t see every day,” Crowley quipped, though he may have still slowed down a tad over the next few minutes. Aziraphale shot him a sidelong smile and reached a hand across the gear-shift to rub at Crowley’s knee.

“Are you feeling better? You’ve been rather quiet.” Crowley’s manic driving had taken them far out of town, so far they were surrounded by fields filled with free-roaming cattle. He let the Bently roll to a more socially acceptable pace because he knew Aziraphale had a bit of a soft spot for cows. The strange wiggling in his stomach continued, and he wanted to be able to pull over and get out quickly if he had to be sick. Vomit in the Bently was not something Crowley wanted to deal with.

“Think so. Stomach’s feeling… weird but not in the usual way,” Crowley answered. Just the fact he was feeling more talkative was a clear sign that the strange mood from earlier was passing. “Not like I’m gonna be sick or anything, so don’t worry about your trousers.”

Aziraphale laughed, a beautiful tinkling sound like antique teacups against their saucers. “Thank you for the reassurance, my love. Do you think you might be hungry? I know you don’t usually go in for that sort of thing often but with the baby your body might be craving things outside your usual fair.”

Another, more insistent fluttering feeling had Crowley gasping and bringing a hand to his stomach. It didn’t hurt, and it wasn’t exactly unpleasant, but there was something strange about it. “Think my trousers are too tight. They didn’t fit right this morning anyway.”

In fact, the button of his pants was digging into his belly right this moment and that was unpleasant. One hand still on the steering wheel he tried to adjust the waistband with the other. It didn’t help. “S’like they’re too small, but these are the same ones I always wear. Miracle must have gone wrong.”

Crowley kept his hand on his belly, just over his shirt and under his jeans. And that was when he felt it. The wiggling feeling from before but now he could feel it against his palm too.

“Holy shit!” he yelped slamming his foot against the break and making them both shoot forward against their seatbelts (an addition Aziraphale had insisted upon when they began taking regualr drives together). “What the fuck?!”

“What in Heaven’s name was all that about?” Aziraphale asked, his hands still braced against the roof and dash. “You’re lucky no one was behind us!”

Normally Crowley would have snapped about how he would have known if there had been someone behind them because he was a semi-omniscient being. But this time there was no witty or snarky comeback because something was moving inside him. He hadn’t done a lot of research about pregnancy--it was still a little too much for him, reading all that human stuff--but this had to be--it really was—

“They’re moving,” he whispered, awe and fear and trepidation colouring his voice. “Angle, they—”

Aziraphale’s hand immediately shot from Crowley’s knee to his belly, right alongside Crowley’s own. They both waited silently, breath held until there was another flutter. If Aziraphale had been a human he probably wouldn’t have felt it. The look on his face when he did made Crowley infinitely glad they both had heightened senses.

“My word…” Aziraphale breathed, bodily leaning over the gearshift so he was pressed up against Crowley’s side. The atmosphere in the car was heavy, but in the way a warm blanket in the early morning is heavy--soft, comfortable, and warm. “Crowley that’s them! That’s our baby. Oh Lord, that’s them.”

“Yeah…” For some reason his eyes were stinging. The Bently had put itself into park and was keeping the engine idle by itself, so he used his other hand to wipe at the quickly-forming tears. Up until now he hadn’t really realized, or he had but not all the way, that was their baby inside him. This was happening and Aziraphale was right there with him, just as excited and awed as Crowley was. “I didn’t know--little shit’s been dancing down there all morning and I didn’t--”

“Don’t call our baby that, Crowley!” Aziraphale complained, shooting him a scolding look. Crowley rolled his eyes and huffed.

“They can’t hear us angel, s’not a big deal,” he insisted. Another movement under their hands stopped their bickering in its tracks. Crowley grunted softly as the squirming intensified, then ended again. “Active one, aren’t they?”

“I love you,” Aziraphale said abruptly. He pressed his free hand to Crowley’s chest, just over where his heart was hammering away. “Crowley this is--you’re amazing.”

“No you,” Crowley shot back, laughing weakly. Tears began to streak down his face but for once, they were happy ones and not sad. “This’s real, isn’t it?”

He looked over at Aziraphale just in time to catch the possessive, loving look on his face. Suddenly Crowley realized that they both had a hand part-way down his jeans, pulled off to a secluded spot at the side of the road. Pressed close together like this Crowley couldn’t help but lean in, seeking the warmth and comfort and closeness to his lover. His sensitivity to smells had been decreasing as well, and so for the first time in a few weeks, he took a long, indulgent sniff of Aziraphale scent without trepidation.

“Are you just realizing that now dearest?” Aziraphale must have noticed Crowley’s reaction to him because there was a little bit of teasing to his voice. “And are you sniffing me? I do hope my cologne isn’t too strong for you.”

“You smell nice,” Crowley squeaked as Aziraphale’s hands both shifted down. The one on his chest landed around his right hip, while the one in his trousers gently traced the very top of his pants. “A-ah, you—?”

Aziraphale hummed, his fingers dipping under Crowley’s pants. “Seeing you like this… it makes me want to have you again and again.” An embarrassingly garbled noise escaped his throat. “I love you so much. You are my everything Crowley.”

“Ngk,” Crowley moaned. He wished he could be as good with words as Aziraphale, a least when it came to things between them. Aziraphale was always better at the softer things, at being a good person, even if he could be a bastard at times. “We’re in public?”

“Not really, we’re far out from any of the farms and I haven’t seen another car for at least an hour now. But if you don’t want to, we can drive back and—”

“No no I want to, just let me—” he popped the button on his jeans open and sighed in relief. “Much better. You can keep going now.”

Aziraphale laughed again and his mouth was so close to Crowley’s neck he could feel the vibrations. “Better turn the car off then, hadn’t we? And maybe we should move to the back seat, there’d be more space at least.” But Aziraphale’s hand was still moving further down his front, cupping his sex in his warm palm. The tips of his fingers dipped ever so slightly between Crowley’s lips, a tantalizing tease.

“Get your hands out of my pants then,” Crowley grumbled, making no effort to remove Aziraphale’s hands himself. In fact, he may have willed the driver's seat to recline a little bit more, to give the angel more space to work. The car shut itself off, and the music cut out completely, leaving them in silence save for their breathing and the sound of wind outside.

“You don’t want me to do that,” Aziraphale sing-songed, pressing a little firmer with his fingers so he was brushing Crowley’s clit. “At least the car’s off, it wouldn’t do to be creating pollution.”

“N-no.” Crowley was answering out of habit, rather than actual understanding. He hadn’t been wet before, but that was quickly changing. Aziraphale’s touch, familiar at this point, always caused a sort of reaction in Crowley’s body. One that screamed more more more. “Aziraphale, need you—!”

“I’ve got you my dear,” Aziraphale assured him, stilling petting with the barest pressure against Crowley’s clit and labia. “I can never get enough of you.”

“H-hedonist,” Crowley stuttered, ending in a cry as Aziraphale gave one firm press to his clit. Bastard.

“Call me what you want to, but I think you benefit from my overindulgences too, don’t you Crowley?” Crowle squirmed against the leather seats, wishing that for once he’d left the house in his trackies. “Well anyway, you don’t seem to be complaining.”

Crowley groaned, his hips bucking and twisting impatiently. Aziraphale tutted and put more pressure on Crowley’s hips, pinning him to the seat. He loved it when Aziraphale showed off his angelic strength. Crowley was better built for sneaking and slithering while Aziraphale had once been a warrior. Though it had been millenia since the angel had wielded a weapon of any kind, that strength remained and Crowley greedily hoarded the opportunities to experience it.

“Fuck, fucking get on with it!” he whined. His fingers wrapped around Aziraphale’s wrists, urging them deeper. The crotch of his pants was soaked through and his slick was beginning to make his thighs damp and sticky. It was gross and uncomfortable and he needed more of it right now.

“Oh very well.” Aziraphale pulled back completely which made Crowley’s eyes shoot open in shock. “Don’t look like that dear. If we aren’t going to make it to the back seat I thought this might be the most appropriate.” He settled back into the passenger seat and patted his lap. Crowley’s mouth went dry; one of his most overplayed fantasies from back before they were together was Aziraphale fucking him in the Bently. They’d just never gotten around to it. Until now.

He’d deny it if Aziraphale ever brought it up, but Crowley made a mess of climbing over the space between the seats and into the angel’s lap. When he settled down on Aziraphale’s thighs the angel was obviously trying to hold back a chuckle. Crowley glowered.

“Like to see you do that with your trousers half down,” he grumbled, redfaced and out of breath. “Aziraphale, come on, don’t make me beg.”

“Not this time, maybe later. I would like to ride you, make you ask for my permission to come while I use you for my own pleasure,” Aziraphale hummed thoughtfully. He snapped his fingers and both of them were bottomless, putting Crowley’s drooling pussy on full display. At least Aziraphale seemed to be just as excited, a messy dollop of precome pooling at the tip of his member. “It has been a little while and I must confess I’ve been thinking about it far too much.”

“Yes,” Crowley hissed, grinding down so Aziraphale’s cock rubbed against the full length of his cunt. “Wanna be in you, wanna give you whatever you want.”

Aziraphale grabbed his hips and stilled his rocking. “Right now I want you to be still and let me set the pace, alright? I want to look at you. Is that alright dearest?” If he hadn’t been seconds away from losing it, Crowley would have laughed. Didn’t Aziraphale know he could do anything with his body, that Crowley’s entire form (metaphysical bits included) belonged to him? Crowley hissed out an affirmative noise and stopped struggling against the angel’s grip.

“Good, thank you love. Thank you.” Aziraphale guided Crowley down, his cock catching against the rim of his entrance. “I love you, you wondering creature. With everything in my being, Crowley, everything I am, you are so precious to me.”

The praise would have been a little much if it hadn’t been making Crowley melt like ice cream in the sun. Loath as he was to even think about it, there were still times where he doubted Aziraphale, where he needed reassurance. Aziraphale was more than happy to provide those things and did so profusely. Especially when they were having sex.

“Ngk—!” Crowley screeched as Aziraphale pulled him down those last few inches so they were hip to hip. No matter how many times they did this it always took a few seconds for Crowley to adjust, to get over the overwhelming feeling for Aziraphale inside him. It wasn’t even that the angel was too rough, or too big, he was just Aziraphale. And this was something he never thought he could have, but it turned out he could and sometimes that was a little bit too much.

“Put your arms around my neck dear, there’s a lamb,” Aziraphale murmured into the demon’s neck. His voice was strained like it was taking a huge amount of effort for him to keep still. “Hold onto me now, I’ve got you.”

Crowley did as he was asked, locking his arms tight around the angel’s neck like he would never let go. To be perfectly honest, he might not; being attached to Aziraphale for all eternity didn’t sound too bad. And this way the angle was better, each thrust adding fuel to the fire burning inside him. Who cared if the leather seat was sticking to his forearms and there was probably going to be some significant staining, this was everything he ever wanted.

“Sssssshit Aziraphale!” he hissed, his eyes drawn down to the space where they were connected. Everything was slick and messy, mostly thanks to him. “I wanna--mmm!--wanna kiss you, angel.”

Aziraphale didn’t bother saying anything, which Crowley appreciated gently. He rather gracelessly flopped forward, his hips still driving into the demon even as he connected their lips. Somebody, the spark of Aziraphale’s lips on his was almost more intense than the sensation from below. Almost. Crowley focused hard on kissing back as much as he could without losing control and letting his corporation begin to slip. It wouldn’t do for his fangs to pop out and cut his angel.

As they kissed their near-frantic pace slowed to match the slide of their lips and tongues. The feel of Aziraphale weighing him down and keeping him still as he pummeled up into him made Crowley moan helplessly against the angel’s mouth, powerless to do nothing but kiss back and take whatever Aziraphale wanted to give him. Crowley wanted everything and anything.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale gasped into the almost non-existent space between them. “Crowley, God, you beautiful creature how did I ever--how are you mine?”

“Always yours,” Crowley gasped rawly. “Since fucking--ah shit!--Eden. Since Eden--!” And even though they’d had a decade together it still made him ache with the satisfying completion of finally being with his other half. Aziraphale’s hands came down to smooth over Crowley’s chest and belly, pausing at the slight swell between his hips.

“Are you close dear?” His tone was breathless and desperate. “Please, I can’t--not much more--”

“Yes, yes, yes,” Crowley keened, arching his back to get a better angle. “Close--need a little m--!” Aziraphale’s hand slipped down to circle Crowley’s clit once, then twice. That was all Crowley needed to come, a wordless gasp wrenching its way out of his gut as his muslces clenched and released. Aziraphale followed soon after with an unflattering whimper, like he’d been waiting for Crowley to go first and barely hanging on himself. In the immediate seconds afterward Crowley couldn’t help himself from nestling his head in Aziraphale’s shoulder and nuzzling.

Aziraphale shifted so he was half lying on the seat, half lying on top of Crowley. One of his hands, the one that wasn't covered in various fluids, splayed over Crowley’s stomach possessively.

“Alright love?” Aziraphale asked, his voice husky and sleepy. Crowley answered with a satisfied wiggle and a huff, suddenly realizing he was still wearing his sunglasses and they were terribly smudged. With a floppy hand he batted them off and onto the floor, where they’d probably be lost forever. “I assume that’s good?”

“Very,” Crowley hummed, returning to nuzzling against Aziraphale’s neck. “Think all that rocking put them to sleep though, it’s quiet down there.”

“I can feel that. It really is quite extraordinary, isn’t it?” Aziraphale was petting his belly like some sort of dog but Crowley let it slide because it felt pretty nice. “I wasn’t too rough, was I?”

“Pshh, you were perfect.” As their bodies began to wind down the stickiness and general prevalence of sweat began to make itself known. “Not sure the Bently made it out unscathed through. The seats sticking to me.”

“I think that may be my fault. Here, let me.” Aziraphale snapped briskly and the mess disappeared. They were also both dressed, though Crowley’s skinny jeans were replaced with a pair of the comfy stretchy trousers he kept at home.

“Mmm, don’t wanna drive home now.” Crowley was very comfortable, and just a little (a lot) sleepy. “Think I’ll take a nap.”

“On the side of the road?” Aziraphale asked, like they hadn’t just had sex on the same roadside less than ten minutes ago. “My dear you’ll get a sore back all cramped up like this.”

Crowley grumbled unhappily and tightened his grip on the angel. “Then miracle us home. Cause I’m not driving and if you drive we won’t get home for hours.” For as much as Aziraphale complained about Crowley going over the speed limit, he wasn’t much better at following the rules of the road. He’d learned to drive in a time before regulations and decided that there wasn’t much point trying to keep up with the every-changing rules of the road. What resulted was a strange mix of driving under the speed limit while completely ignoring most rules and driving etiquette norms. Crowley had banned him from driving the Bently outside of emergencies in the mid-’50s after a few hair-raising outings.

Aziraphale tutted. “Such a frivolous use of a miracle.” But still, Crowley heard him click his forefinger and thumb. When he cracked open an eye he could see the eves of their cottage through the window. “Did that little trip make you feel better?”

“Much,” Crowley said, a smile in his voice. “You couldn’t just put us inside though?” He knew he was being a whiney brat, but he also felt like he deserved a little bit of pampering. Nevermind that Aziraphale had basically been waiting on him hand and foot for the past month.

“Spoiled serpent,” Aziraphale said fondly, tucking a sweaty hank of fiery hair behind Crowley’s ear. “I think it’ll be good for you to get up and stretch. Besides, I didn’t want to risk forgetting the Bently behind, I know that would set you off.”

“It wouldn’t let itself get left behind, it knows better,” Crowley grumped, but still he unwrapped himself from the angel and sat up on his elbows. With his shirt back on he couldn’t see the bump anymore, but he knew it was there. It was only going to get bigger too, and eventually no amount of clothing would be able to cover it up. The thought made him blush a little.

“Are you feeling ok? You’re looking a little flushed,” Aziraphale asked, his brow furrowing a little. Crowley nodded and looked away; it’d be easy to blame his glowing cheeks on the return of his morning sickness, but he really didn’t want to spend another week in bed.

“Yeah, yeah. Just uh, we’re not gonna be able to do stuff like this once it gets bigger, are we?” Aziraphale sat back as well, maneuvering around so he could shuffle over and get the door.

“I guess not. We’d better make good use of the time we have now.” Crowley squeezed himself through the open door. Immediately Aziraphale’s hands were back on him, one grabbing his hip and the other taking his hand. Crowley loved when the angel was like this, when it was like he couldn’t bear to be without him for even a minute. It soothed the still-healing edges of ragged want in his soul. After ten years of constant tending that wound had only just begun to scab over and it would probably take many, many more for it to fully close. But he was getting there, slowly.

“Round two, after we take a bath?” he asked, leaning into Aziraphale’s embrace. The laugh that startled out of him was surprised and maybe just a little turned on.

“Fine, but this time I want to do what we discussed before. Is that agreeable?” Aziraphale’s eyes sparkled with mischeif while Crowley smirked slightly.

“As if you need to ask. You know I like being inside you.”

“Marvellous. Let's get going then dearest!” Not the way Crowley had expected to alleviate his anxiety and boredom, but maybe exactly what he’d needed.

#fanfic #fbafs #wtf is the good omens ship name??#gomens #aziraphale/crowley #azirapahel #crowziraphale #crowley #ineffable husbands #Good Omens

1 note · View note

tommyhagen · 6 years

Text

5 % of a Fairytale : Survivors

TW: vomit, reference to past alcoholism

@jay-sop , my sickfic senpai @builder051, Marvel sickfic senpai, @hold-my-hair-back , here’s some Mpreg morning sickness, @tonystarksgirl, forever to you, kouhai

_________________________________________________

”Sorry about that ladies. Shall we keep on keeping on?”, Tony tried for a playful tone that fell flat when his usual jaunt was a little too shaky. Wanda gave him a questioning look that he returned with a grin. At least, until he caught sight of the intense stare down Natasha was giving him.

“Are you all right, Mr. Ironman?”, Kola worried.

Tony forced his grin to go even brighter when he looked down at her. “I just had a little dust in my lungs, kid.”, he promised and he ruffled her hair as gently as he could with a metal hand.

“Okay.”, she accepted. “Did you see my Mama?”

And Tony had no choice but to lie to a little girl with a smile on his face, “You know, I didn’t see anyone in there so I guess we’re just going to have to keep looking.”

”So that’s what we’ll do.”, Natasha assured the girl in her arms. “So,” and she handed Kola to Wanda, “Wanda, why don’t you and our newest little Avenger here go get a head start? I need to have a quick word with Mr. Ironman but we’ll be right behind you. Does that sound good to you, Kola?”, she said sweetly, giving Wanda a pointed look.

Wanda nodded and suggested to the little girl as she strode off, “Let’s count how many people we can help, yeah? Like a game.”

Tony gave Kola a little wave goodbye before Natasha grabbed his arm, pulling him behind a large enough pile of rubble to block them from view. His fake smile was definitely gone now. Of course, even now, Nat wouldn’t let him get away with anything.

”So you found the mother.”, Natasha started, arms crossed the way they always were when something bothered her.

”Yeah.”, Tony replied gravely, hoping the questions would end there but knowing that they never did.

”Dead.”, she assumed, still straight faced as ever.

Tony had no idea how she could always do that his own resolve was already crumbling. “Along with everyone else in there.”, he replied softly. “Do yourself a favor and just...don’t go in there. Keep Wanda away, too. We’ll leave the cleanup there to Sam or Rhodey or...”, and he sighed, hanging his head,”-I don’t know, Nat. There’s nothing we can do there. Trust me. You don’t want to see it.”

”Obviously I’ll keep Wanda away.”, Nat promised.

And Tony cut her off with a quick, “Thanks. She just...couldn’t handle that right now.”.

”But do you really think you’re in a position to be worrying about anyone else right now?”, she continued right on, completely ignoring him.

Fine. Direct it was then. That suited them both better. “Come on, Nat, give me a break! Hasn’t today been fucked up enough?”, Tony begged, just completely too exhausted to deal with her stupid Alpha cross examination right now.

”You forgot to wipe your mouth, Tony.”, she replied tersely.

”Shit!”, he hissed under his breath, wiping his lips off as quickly as he could, probably scratching them to shreds in the process with unfeeling metal.

She sighed and pulled his hand away. “Sit down, Tony.”, she ordered. It wasn’t an Alpha command which was good of her. So Tony gave in. She wiped his lips off with the back of her glove before sitting on an adjacent chunk of collapsed building. “So, was it just me or were you trying something new there? Because I’ve never seen you have to stop during a mission to go throw up.”

”Come off it, Nat. Do you really think now is a good time to go all Alpha bitch on me?”. He was starting to get annoyed now. Who the hell wouldn’t be feeling a bit queasy after what he’d just seen?! Natasha of all people should know how very fake his unaffected vibe was.

”You should know by now I’ll do so whenever I think you need it, Stark.” Yikes, that was very much not a playful use of his last name. “What the hell was that?”

“Fine. F.R.I.D.A.Y, stop recording.”, Tony snapped. He kept quiet until he was sure that the blue light on the helmet’s visor had gone off. “What did it look like?! I saw something bad and I threw up. Is that not allowed now or something because I’m pretty sure we’ve all gotten sick on a mission once or twice. It happens! We’re all still people. And I’m not even one of the ones with superpowers!”

”Oh, it’s allowed. No one’s saying it’s not. It’s just the first time you ever have, that’s all.”, she observed drily.

”Well, what if I said it was the worst thing I’d ever seen in there.”, Tony retorted.

“That might work.”, she admitted. “If I hadn’t known you for years now. But since I have I know you have the strongest stomach out of any of us, super powered humans included. I’ve only seen you get sick because of one thing; being hungover. And if that’s what this is, we’re going to be having this conversation again with the whole team, Tony.”

He turned away from her, a hand clamped tight over his lips. Just the idea of alcohol right now had his stomach turning. “I’m not hungover, Natasha. You know I don’t drink like that anymore.”

He must have sounded at least a portion of how hurt he felt because she dropped it, changing the topic, “How bad was it?”

He swallowed thickly against the familiar watering in his mouth. “Gotta be some of the worst I’ve ever seen, Nat. The mom was just...flattened...blood every-mfh”, he pitched forward with a heave, swallowing back the vomit. He was not going to get sick in front of Natasha. That’d almost be as bad as throwing up in front of Steve. So he just stayed hunched over because if he didn’t...bad things.

“Jesus, Tony!”, she cried, hopping off her hunk of brick and wedged her way beside Tony on his. She put an arm around him. “Okay, okay I believe you! This isn’t because you’ve been drinking.”

He shook his head and moaned miserably when that made him even more nauseous. He coughed hard, still not daring to let himself remove his hand. This was probably going to happen whether he wanted it to or not at this point but Natasha was one of the last people in the world he felt comfortable showing any sort of weakness around. He bit his lip and kept biting even after it was bleeding.

“Tony, you know we don’t have time for this. Just get it out, okay?”, she encouraged as she rubbed his back. “I’m not going to make fun of you or anything.”

When he kept holding back she pressed on his stomach. They both knew he wouldn’t be able to feel it through the suit but just the idea of it was enough to have him over the edge. Tony yanked his hand away just in time to retch so violently Natasha decided to forgo rubbing his back to keep him on the rock instead. He threw up again, and tried to a few times after but could only dry heave with nothing left inside him.

After a minute had passed without him heaving, Tony spit one last time and rasped, “Okay. Let’s go.” His throat might actually be bleeding. If he could stand the heat inside his helmet right now he’d probably rely on it’s voice the rest of the mission. He stood abruptly, swaying dangerously.

“Hey.”, Nat barked, pulling him back down beside her. “We have enough time for a few minutes, okay?”. She pulled him closer to her, letting him rest his head on her shoulder. She had never let him this close before and Tony tried to stop wondering why long enough to enjoy it.

”Fine.”, he gave in. Even if he tried to get up again he’d just face plant so there was no point in arguing.

“You were sick before we even left the tower.”, she surmised, not even needing to ask. Natasha hadn’t been exaggerating how well she knew him.

Tony didn’t reply; she hadn’t meant for him to.

”If you were feeling bad why did you even come today? I know I’m not your Alpha or anything but you can’t do things like this, Tony. “, she chided gently.

“Exactly, you’re not my Alpha so save the lecture.”, he shot back. She didn’t even react. Tony still felt bad, anyways. “Sorry.”

Nat simply nodded as she took off a glove. “Here.”, she handed it to him. “Keep it.”

”Thanks.”, he replied and wiped his mouth yet again.

She grunted in acknowledgement, “Just make me a new one.”

He nodded and tossed it aside. “A better one.”, he agreed.

She gave him a small smile before pressing on, “I’m not trying to lecture you, Tony. You’re a grown ass man; you don’t need that. But I can still be concerned for you. This was supposed to be easy. You could have stayed behind today. I’m just trying to understand, okay? No judgements, I promise.”

#tony stark #natasha romanoff #omegaverse #mpreg #fanfic #steve x tony #stony #sickfic #tony feels #avengers #emetophilia #morning sickness #public sickness #marvel #mission #natasha and tony #wanda maximoff #i love natasha

80 notes · View notes

fangirling-and-lovin-it · 6 years

Text

Not An Experiment chapter 9: These Things Happen

http://archiveofourown.org/works/12234057/chapters/30720411

“Where’s Stark?!”

The Avengers were out on a mission, taking on a small but well equipped criminal organisation, calling themselves, 'The Reclaimers', that was dealing in black market alien tech. No one had heard from Tony in a few minutes and Steve was trying to ignore the growing sense of worry he was feeling and focus on the job in hand.

Then Tony's voice came out of the comms system in their ears and Steve felt a rush of relief.

“I’m bringing you another party.” Tony suddenly appeared from around a building with a group of men riding miniaturised tanks on his tail.

“We need to have a talk about your understanding of the word, “party!” Natasha called out over the sounds of gunfire and yelling.

“I’ll bring balloons next time.” He swooped upwards as he reached the other Avengers and they were ready to take on the group he'd tricked into the ambush.

In the flurry of arrows, bullets, Hulk knocking out assailants and Cap throwing his shield, one of the miniaturised tanks slipped around them in the chaos.

After several intense minutes of fighting the Reclaimers had either retreated or lay unconscious on the ground around The Avengers. As Steve was about to ask were Stark was again, they heard the sound of an explosion behind them and all spun around to see flames and smoke emanating from where Tony had last flown to. Steve's feet started moving before his brain had registered to move, putting his shield up to protect himself he ran into the flames.

"Cap!" Clint called out as one of the Reclaimers groggily sat up and Natasha restrained him with cuffs.

"I've got Stark, you take care of them!"

Making his way through the smoke Steve squinted, looking across the rubble of what had once been an abandoned building. Then he saw something red and shiny right ahead of him. “Oh, God. Tony! " He ran over and knelt next to him, taking him in his arms and pulling off his mask. Tony's eyes were closed but he was still breathing and once again, Steve's body started moving before he even thought to move. It was instinctive. He emerged from the smoke moments later carrying Tony over his shoulder.

"Is he....?" Natasha almost whispered as she, Clint and Hulk ran up to him.

"He's alive but he needs a doctor. Now."

As SHIELD agents arrived to clean up the area, taking the remaining, living Reclaimers into custody, they all hurried into the ship, Clint piloting as Natasha used the new technique that she and Bruce were developing to help him calm and turn back from the Hulk to himself again.

She looked over at Steve, standing over a motionless Tony laid out on the table

*********

"We were outnumbered! The mission briefing obviously didn't have all the intel!"

"We gave you all the intel we had on this!"

Steve and Nick Fury were arguing outside the treatment room at Avengers Tower where Dr Cho and her team were working on Tony.

"Well, it wasn't enough! What about Stark?! If he doesn't pull through..... " Steve trailed off, his expression a mixture of anger and worry.

“Is there something I should know, Captain?”

“Are you implying something, Director?”

Attempting to dissipate the growing tension, Natasha spoke up.

“Steve’s just worried like we all are. You wanted us to become a team, wanted us to put our lives on the line together. Well, this is what happens.” She gestured around the corridor to a pensive Clint who was busying himself polishing an arrow that was already pristine and Bruce who was looking hopefully at the door to the treatment room every few seconds.

Fury sighed. “I have to make some calls. I'll be back to see how he is," He said, and stalked off down the hallway.

Steve sighed heavily. “Thanks…. for stepping in.”

“Fury can be a little rough around the edges but his heart is in the right place. He wants The Avengers to work.”

Steve nodded, pausing before asking the question he already knew the answer to. “You know, don’t you?”

“About you and Tony? Yes.”

He sighed again, not sure what to say next. “We didn’t plan it…it just…”

“Happened?”

Steve nodded slowly.

“I get that, these things tend to creep up on you …unexpectedly,” she said softly, resisting the urge her eyes had to dart over and glance at Bruce as she spoke. “ I’m not judging. For any reason.”

He nodded again, returning her soft smile. “Does anyone else know?”

Natasha was used to lying, she’d literally been trained in the intricacies of deception since she was a child, but she realised, gladly, that this time she didn’t have to. Thanks to Clint’s amusing inability to see what was right in front of him.

“Nope, just me.”

Fury suddenly reappeared, a flicker of something Steve thought could’ve been relief flashed briefly across his face.

“Apparently, our boy just woke up.”

Steve took what felt like his first breath since he'd found Tony in the rubble, and tried not to smile any more than the others as they all filed into the treatment room. Tony was sat up in bed, grinning as if nothing has happened and he hadn't been on the wrong end of a miniaturised tank explosion just a couple of hours earlier. But Steve knew differently, he could see unease in Tony's eyes.

“So, I hear I got saved by Captain America?”

"Well Bruce saved you last time so I guess it was my turn," Steve said with a wry smile.

"Actually that was 'the other guy' so technically I still get a turn too."

"Hey, I do not need saving! I'm Iron Man not a damsel in distress."

" 'Damsels' don't usually need saving, Tony, I thought Cap was supposed to be the one with a nineteen forties mindset."

"I'm not sure if that was a compliment," Steve said with another wry smile and a shrug, 'But I'll take it."

The conversation descended into Clint, Bruce and Steve comparing how many Iron Men/Tony Stark’s they could carry through flames, while Natasha rolled her eyes, before Dr Cho ushered them all out, saying she wanted to keep Tony for observation overnight just in case he had a concussion.

A few minutes later, Steve returned, slipping in through the door unseen and Tony's face lit up.

“I was hoping you’d come back.”

Steve planted a soft kiss to his lips.

"What if Doctor Cho gets suspicious, seeing you here when she comes to check on me?" ” Tony whispered, kissing him back and revelling in the sensation of Steve's mouth on his own again.

"We can’t really hide this forever." Steve kissed him once more before taking a seat in the chair next to the bed. "Natsaha already worked it out."

"Ah....well, I shouldn’t be surprised, she’s literally a super spy. Fooled me when we first met and I just thought she was my hot new employee. "

Steve raised his eyebrows. “You and Romanov? Why am I only hearing about this now?”

Tony didn’t even try and suppress his smirk. “Is Captain America jealous?"

"If you think that, you must really have a concussion."

Tony just grinned in response, deciding that was a, "Yes". “So..you’re ok with it if people…if the team…finds out about us?’

Steve was quiet for a moment and then said, “I nearly lost you today. Honestly, I’m just relieved that you’re asking me how I’ll feel when everyone finds out we’re together instead of me staring an empty bed wondering how I’m going to live the next seventy years of my life without you.”

Tony didn’t say anything, he wasn't sure how to respond. But he smiled. The kind of smile that felt fresh on his face, like a new day dawning. The kind he hadn't he hadn't felt in a long time. Steve noticed it too, he moved in his chair to get more comfortable, smiling back at Tony, knowing that he wasn't just seeing the man beneath the amour now. But the man beneath the mask as well.

"You look like you're getting comfy for the night there, Captain"

"Is that a problem Mr Stark?"

"No, I'm just concerned about those old bones of yours." Tony smirked playfully and turned in the bed so he was facing Steve.

"Well, thank you for your concern, but you do realise that technically you're older than I am?"

"Well...technically.....I suppose....." Tony said with mock exasperation. "Oh God, there's probably Stony fanfiction where I'm your sugar daddy isn't there?"

They both burst out laughing. "Alright that's too much to process right now, it's been a long day and I'm still afraid to Google that, 'mpreg,' thing you mentioned the other day."

"Yeah, I may have thrown you in at the deep end with that one, Tony said with a yawn. "Seriously though, You don't have to stay.go get some sleep."

"How about I just stay till you fall asleep?"

Tony nodded, smiling as he closed his eyes, allowing the drowsiness of the medication Dr Cho had given him to take over. Steve watched him fall asleep, knowing that he'd be there all night, not leaving the side of the man he now knew he was falling for.

#stony fic #stony fluff #avengers fanfiction #atony #my boys #ao3 #ao3 f #my fic #not an experiment #steve and tony

21 notes · View notes

atruththatyoudeny · 5 years

Text

Monthly Reads | September 2019

Happy belated 28th! This month I managed to read 29 fics so all of them are under the read more. Among others you'll find fics from @hlmpregficexchange, @hlmusicalsficfest, @1dtwistedtropesficexchange and @1dridicficexchange! Thank you so much to all of these authors for their hard work! Happy Reading!

Smokey vanilla | louisnights | mpreg - a/b/o - trans character - threats of violence - 25k Louis is the sole guardian to his younger siblings, and he's fallen pregnant. A new neighbor moves in next door, Harry, and they become good friends. Harry is kind and beautiful. Louis can't help but fall for him.

Hooked on a Feeling | dandelionfairies | mpreg - famous/not famous - 37k Louis is a famous actor. Harry is not. He also has no idea who Louis actually is. After a one night stand, Harry ends up pregnant. Louis finds out the day he walks into the bakery that Harry owns. From that moment, he makes it known that he plans to be in the baby’s life. Over a short time, their own friendship builds into something more. How will Harry handle knowing who Louis actually is? How will they handle it all when the paparazzi get a hold of the story?

Going My Way | jacaranda_bloom | mpreg - strangers to lovers - fluff - banter - 20k The one where Harry gets a replacement LYFT driver, Louis is just trying to earn some extra cash before the baby arrives, and they both end up with way more than they bargained for.

Love Me Like Tomorrow's Never Gonna Come | stylescantstop | mpreg - exes to lovers - past breakup- 20k Harry and Louis are broken up but run into each other at a mutual friends wedding. What they don't know is that night will change their lives forever.

Another One For The Road | reminiscingintherain | mpreg - famous/not famous - established rlationship - 15k The one where Louis' on tour when he finds out the hard way that men can get pregnant too....

Sowing the Seeds of Love | ShapeOfLou | mpreg - established relationship - fluff - 18k When Harry finds out that he's pregnant, he worries that Louis might not be ready to take on a task like parenthood. To prove himself, Louis buys a potted plant to keep alive—only it's much harder than he ever imagined.

I Get To Love You | lovelarry10 | mpreg - strangers to lovers - One Night Stands - friends to lovers - friends with benefits - famous/not famous mutual pining - 83k A one night stand leaves Harry with a permanent reminder of the night he spent with a stranger. Louis has no idea who the handsome stranger he took to bed is... until his friends make a shocking discovery. A baby is on the way, and Louis and Harry have nine months to get to know each other before they become a family...

The Long Way Round | yourpricelessadvice | mpreg - friends to lovers - slow burn - breakup - 44k 2002 is going to be Louis’ year. He’d said that about the departing 2001 as well though, after declaring the first year of the new millennium ‘a trial run’. But this year will be different.

Race You to the Stairway | Chelsea Frew (chelseafrew) | mpreg - angst - fluff - 6k Harry. Louis. A stalled lift. Labour. Will the first responders get there in time?

Falling For You | Halos_Boat | mpreg - homelessness - light angst - fluff - 28k "I'm Harry," he extended his hand out for Louis to shake but quickly retracted it as if he were ashamed. Louis frowned, pushing out his own hand, "I'm Louis." Harry's lips twisted up slightly, accepting Louis' handshake happily, "thank you so much for your kindness, Louis."

Silent Night | Snowy38 | mpreg - 14k Louis is a shepherd who’s resigned to spending Christmas alone when his flight home is cancelled because of snow.When he hears a caroller out in the cold he plans to pay them and send them on their way.He didn’t plan for that caroller to be so mesmerising. And he certainly didn’t plan for Harry to be heavily pregnant!

A virgin to that money | eversincewefellapart | college/ university - sex tapes - love/hate - 7k Harry and Louis are broke university students who hate each other and make a sex tape. (In which Louis gets fucked a lot, Harry can't find the camera, and the road to falling in love is different for everyone.

More Than You Know | brightlyharry | miscommunication - fluff - funny - 64k The one where Louis is a doorman for a luxury apartment building and Harry is the newest resident of the penthouse. Timing fails to be on his side as he tries to catch a glimpse of the building's newest occupant and prove he's a call-boy. When he finally does see Harry in the flesh, he's more captivated than ever. Featuring Liam as a mailman and Louis' trusted friend and no one knows what's going on with Zayn.

Perceive with your mind | rsadelle | college/ university - invisibility - 5k Harry grabs a piece of paper and scrawls a note: Freshers think a ghost lives here. I told them to stop bothering you even if you are a ghost. If you are, you're probably lonely. You're probably not a ghost, so maybe you have loads of friends and we haven't met because you're busy with them all the time. If you are a ghost, maybe you can knock on my door, or leave a message in the bathroom mirror. Wouldn't want you to be lonely! - Harry (35A) He adds his mobile number to the bottom of the note so whoever's in 35B can text him if they want, then opens his door, crosses the corridor, and slips it under the door of 35B. He waits for a moment, then shakes his head when of course there's no immediate response because of course there isn't a ghost living in 35B. That would be ridiculous.

Ain't We Proud | yeehawharry | WW II - minor character death - PTSD - period-typical homophobia - slow burn - 20k Louis Tomlinson returned to Manchester in 1945 with survivor’s guilt, no job prospects, and a promise to check on the brother of his wartime best friend who didn’t make it home from the front. Things began looking up when he heard a radio advert for the Tribute to the Troops Song Competition and decided to put together a band of fellow vets, combine their talent and experience, and hopefully rocket to stardom. A Bandstand AU.

Symptoms Of The Culture | alienharry | college/ university - video/computer games - fluff - 14k Harry's fraternity has become obsessed with the newest online game, and they'd like to think they're getting pretty good at it. Only, they keep getting killed by The Rogue, an online player who has no connection to the Frat, but seems to have a vendetta against them.

Up For It | jacaranda_bloom | OT5 - lads holiday - secret relationship - banter - 18k Each year, the five friends take a lads holiday; it’s tradition, and this year is shaping up to be a jam-packed, fun-filled trip with their best mates just like all the rest... or is it? OR the one where Liam is Mr Organised, Zayn is too perceptive for his own good, Niall is a compulsive matchmaker, and Harry and Louis might just have the surprise to shock them all.

Laundry Room | beautlouis | flirting - banter - pining - slow burn - humor - 10k Louis and Harry are both students living in the same apartment complex. They end up having the same laundry night and time. Louis can't stop staring at Harry and he can't figure out why Harry consistently points out Louis’ inside-out shirts, and his untied shoes, and messy hair. Enter slow burn-ish flirting, banter, awkwardness, and a lot of laundry.

Right Side of the Wrong Bed | eyesofshinigami | humor - fluff - 11k The one where Louis wakes up on the wrong couch only to meet his future husband (even if Harry doesn't know it yet).

Never Been Knotted | allwaswell16 | a/b/o - non traditional a/b/o - fluff - strangers to lovers - 9k Harry doesn't mind that he presented as a beta. It mostly just makes his life easier and more convenient. There's just one small problem: he'd really like to be knotted.

Small Doses (Loving You It's Explosive) | QuickedWeen | boxing - light angst - dom/sub undertones - 38k Louis Tomlinson finds himself at Vitality Fitness to try and turn his life around after having left his cheating boyfriend of four years. The gym's owner, Liam, quickly becomes a good friend, but his right hand man is rude and dismissive from the get-go. Louis and Harry continue to clash all while Harry is trying to move his way up the ranks in Manchester's amateur boxing circuit, but they can't seem to stay away from each other.

Everything I need I get from you | jaerie | a/b/o - mpreg - strangers to lovers - emotional/psychological abuse - sexism - 10k In a world where music and sound are just as vital to health as food, Harry is stuck in a town that thinks professional music is a scam and a relationship he never wanted. One chance event changes his life.

Sweet and lowdown | wreckingtomlinson (karasunonolibero) | 1920s - prohibition era - 13k Harry is about to be married for the fourth time, Louis’ never been kissed, Niall can’t cook, Liam can’t dance, and none of them are very good at acting.

Like electricity | cupcakeL | Billy Elliot AU - ballet - 1980s - period-typical homophobia - mentions of dementia - mentions of alcohol abuse - 17k The one where a 12-year-old Louis Tomlinson, an orphaned coal miner's son in Northern England during the strikes of 1984/85, stumbles upon a ballet class during his weekly football training. Soon he finds himself in dance, demonstrating the kind of raw talent seldom seen by the class' exacting instructor, Madame Malik, who starts pushing him towards making use of his abilities while Louis struggles with feelings he doesn’t quite understand.

'Sup | MediaWhore | fluff - awkward flirting - meet-cute - silver fox Louis - 6k Gemma really wants her little brother to sign up for a dating app and get back in the game after a messy divorce. Harry thinks he’s way too old to swipe. They compromise to devastatingly embarrassing results. Meanwhile, all Louis wants is to finish the play he’s been commissioned to write, but one of the regulars at his local coffee shop keeps distracting him. ft. older larry, pushy gemma, harry being a disaster gay and silver fox louis.

Adore You | isthatyoularry | courtship - age difference - love/hate - fluff - angst - 67k “We invited our new acquaintances from uptown. You’ve simply got to meet their oldest son!” said his mother with a flourish, and suddenly it became abundantly clear as to why his parents had so adamantly demanded he join them in Deansville for the entirety of the summer. Against his wishes, Harry spends the holidays at his family’s summer estate, and is reluctantly pulled into a courtship he didn’t ask for. Harry doesn’t want to get married, but Louis does. They don’t fit, but then again they really, really do. Vaguely set in the 1920’s. Headpieces, jazz, fashionable canes, and flapper dresses, and that.

I Wanna Be Alright With My Baby Tonight | graceling_in_a_suit | college/university - trans character - football/soccer - mentions of transphobia - anxiety - insecurity - fluff - humor - 18k Harry Styles' university football team (Go Queers!) is on a losing streak, and so is his love life. Louis Tomlinson—a fellow trans man and the team's new co-captain—might just be able to help with both.

We're not who we used to be | louistomlinsons | exes to lovers - road trips - slow burn - 30k “Harry…” Louis’ voice catches in his throat, thick with tears threatening to fall out, so he coughs to clear it before trying again. “Harry is Liam’s best man?” “You didn’t know?” Harry is standing at the entrance of the garage, mouth slightly open and face pulled together. He sets his bag on the ground and puts his hands on his hips. When he does that, he looks just like the Harry that Louis remembers (and loves, he thinks with an aching heart). “I’m sure I mentioned it,” Liam says, but Louis can tell he’s lying by the way he chews on his lower lip and twists his fingers together. “You’re all a bunch of dick heads, I’m getting in the car.” Louis isn’t sure if he’s being unreasonable. He has no idea what the protocol is when your ex-boyfriend shows up after three years and nobody bothered to give you a heads up. He’s pretty sure he’s allowed to be upset about it, even if it’s only for a bit. or an exes to lovers canadian roadtrip au

Tan Lines and Some Memories | twoshipstiedup | fluff - humor - summer romance - 11k It’s summer in California and blockbuster movie star Louis Tomlinson is looking forward to a break and spending his days lazing away at his beach house. Harry Styles is the indie movie darling he’d been avoiding ever since Louis saw his movie at Cannes and harbored an unreasonable grudge against him. A unicorn t-shirt finally brings them together in person. Summer romance ensues.

#fic rec #28th appreciation #my reads #my fic rec

15 notes · View notes