#mpreg doctor strange

[rainismdata]

Karl Mordo x Stephen Strange [ENG ver.]

MordoStrange: Hungry for Love [Ao3]

note: mpreg!Stephen , post Doctor Strange (2016)

When Stephen was waking up hungry in a middle of the night...

[ oneshot ]

[ keep reading for tumblr ver. ]

In a middle of the night, Stephen got awake because of the weird feeling on his stomach. He feels hungry. Yes, it is actually weird because he is one kind of person who doesn't want to eat anything after 10pm.

Well, he can't argue with this new thing, because he is now pregnant. It happened for a few night before.

Not that he wants to make himself too full for the food later, he is then thinking about cooking a chicken soup cream. Maybe he has to put many vegetables in it.

It is now so cold at the New York Sanctum Sanctorum. So, having a hot soup cream would be nice.

Running for the seventh month, his womb is undeniably big (for him, it's his first pregnancy). He carefully is waking up from the bed and Cloak of Levitation hovered on his shoulder.

Well, Cloaky's senses and instincts feel heightened since Stephen goes into the pregnancy. It protects Stephen more cautiously but also more gently.

It is now keeping Stephen from the cold, because he was just wearing arctic blue set of a long nightgown and long robe.

Stephen is now more calm than his usually chaotic actions. He likes to use his hands more than him usually using his magic.

He slowly closed the door and walks to the kitchen without any footwear. The breeze of the floor makes him shiver, but he likes to feel it.

He turns on the lights in dim. It would not be too bright for him, but would be enough for him when he is cooking.

He took a few vegetables in the refrigerator and a few at the vegetables desk (the vegetables growing in Kamar-Taj, that don't have to be in the refrigerator).

He also took the chicken to chop it and then put it in the boiling water.

He carefully wash/rinse the vegetables one by one, making sure it's all cleaned up before he starts to chop them into pieces.

He prepares the spices and set to boiled the water. He gently rubs on his stomach when he was waiting for the water to be boiled.

He managed to put the ingredients in the boiling water one by one then waiting for the soup cream to be cooked.

A pair of strong arms sneaked from inside the Cloak and circling his waist. He is embraced from behind. The cloak floating away for a bit then proceed to hug them both.

"Karl..." Stephen said, while he smiles softly, then leans on Mordo's embrace.

"My love." Mordo said, then he planted a kiss on Stephen's shoulder. "What are you cooking?"

"Chicken soup cream."

"Hungry in the middle of the night, I see."

"We are."

Stephen leans a bit on the side so that he could put his hand to caresses Mordo's cheek and kissed the other one.

"I apologize it took me so long."

"It's fine, Karl. I've been there, more likely. Well, you can tell me about it, like a story-telling. I'm sure our baby likes it."

"She's probably going to be bored for my nonsense stories."

"Well... I am being pregnant of her also sounds like a nonsense already. I'm sure she understands. It's her father's stories, anyway. And... I don't think she wants to get away from our sorcery life."

"Why is that?"

"Despite of the hard time and all, sorcery has many things that are beautiful and useful. We got a lot of amazing weapons, too."

"Do you think I want to teach her?"

"Wong is the better teacher. But, her father is the better trainer." Stephen said as he stirred the soup.

"Hm... I can't possibly argue with that statement."

Stephen chuckles at Mordo's respond. He put his hand on one of Mordo's hand and put it on his belly. Mordo gently rubs the belly with his thumb, while Stephen does the same for Mordo's hand.

"Stephen..."

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

"For... what?"

"For keeping me right."

Stephen feels his heart aching for a bit. He remembers all the hard time when Karl Mordo left the Sanctum after they were fighting Dormammu. He tried so hard to make Karl realizing his worth more than anything.

Until then Stephen was broke down in tears telling how much Karl Mordo is so important for him. For once, he let his emotions came out just so naturally and he didn't try to hide anything. This is all when he was dying because he saved Mordo.

Mordo, too, finally can't deny his feelings for Stephen. The more he took people's magic, the more he remembers Stephen. He thought he was just feeling sorry for Stephen. But, it turns out as different feelings. And Mordo trusted Stephen about his worth.

"Sorry to bring it up. I just— feel so thankful for you. You're such a blessing for me, Stephen. I'd probably lost in the darkness if you weren't came to me."

"You are the one who shaped me, too, Karl. Well— even now, in implicit way."

Mordo lets out a relieved sigh and chuckles.

"Oh, Stephen... You're gonna be the death of me."

"Haha. You don't say, darling. I could've say the same."

"Well, I did, almost make you died because you were protecting me. Not to mention all thousands death in Dark Dimension."

Stephen turns his body, Mordo's hands stays on his waist, now he faced Mordo, and put his hands on Mordo's neck. They then were kissing gently, before they look at each other's eyes.

"You look so insanely beautiful in these. It heightened your eye colors." Mordo said.

"This is from Sara."

"My mother?" Mordo put on his magic so the soup would be stirred by its own, while he's focusing on his beautiful husband.

"Yes. She said it was too big for her, she was only wearing it once because she likes the silky fabric."

"And she gave it to you?"

"Yes. I can imagine she was so beautiful in these. Maybe you can tell her about how do I look in... these...?"

"God, damn, yes. I'm sure I'll tell her. I can tell she wants to see you in these, too. She'll like it so much."

Stephen laughs on Mordo's chest, inhaling the scent he missed for a few days.

"How about eating the soup at the balcony?"

"Like a date?"

"Yes, like a DATE date."

"Oh, Karl... I like the sounds of you saying it."

"So, Stephen Vincent Strange... Do you want to go on a date with me?"

"I'm sure I do, Baron Karl Mordo."

Mordo stopped his magic and helps Stephen in "humanly" way to prepares the date night— dawn. The dawn date.

[pinkpilct]

blades and baby bottles (42956 words) by pinkpilot Chapters: 14/14 Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Deadpool (Movieverse) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Logan | Worst Wolverine (Deadpool Movies)/Wade Wilson Characters: Logan | Worst Wolverine (Deadpool Movies), Wade Wilson, Hank McCoy (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Laura Kinney, Dogpool | Mary Puppins (Deadpool Movies) Additional Tags: Mpreg, Pregnant Logan (X-Men), Unplanned Pregnancy, Fluff and Angst, Domestic Fluff, mostly fluff with a sprinkle of angst in the middle, Two idiots have a baby, Post Movie where Logan and Wade have their own place, fear of miscarriage, Morning Sickness, Miscarriage Scare, Medical Inaccuracies, Gender Issues, Oral Sex, Childbirth Series: Part 2 of healing hearts and kicking feet Summary: Logan doesn't get sick. Ever. It just doesn't happen. Any virus that has the misfortune of choosing him as its victim is immediately obliterated by his healing factor. There are no chances. He’s never had a fever, never had a stomachache or a headache. The pain and discomfort he has felt are from his own injuries, and that lasts for mere minutes. He knows pain. This isn’t pain. He’s sick and it makes no fucking sense for him to be sick. Something’s wrong.

[thempregsimmer]

Mpreg waddle #4

Michał is the youngest visitor of Mateusz’s penthouse in Warsaw so far. He’s just 20 years old, he lives in Szczecin and studies to become a physical education specialist. He is also working on getting a professional massage therapist certificate.

He’s always been a sporty guy, playing in his schools’ volleyball teams.

He’s in a year-long relationship with his baby daddy, Jason. Jason is an exchange student from the US, they met during one of the volleyball tournaments.

From the first time they met, they knew their lives are about to change forever.

Michał is 36 weeks along with a boy. Since week 32, he’s been experiencing some heavy discolouration of his abdominal skin around the belly button. His placenta is attached precisely in this exact place. The doctors aren’t sure what caused the discolouration - if it’s melanin produced by the black Jason’s baby in Michał’s womb, or if it’s a strange way of lineage nigra forming on such a young body.

Mateusz will soon be admitted to the Warsaw’s paternity hospital, his due date is in about a week.

[bidisasterevankinard]

Wip Wednesday

Tagged by talented @diazsdimples 💙

More from break up/make up mpreg . I need just to end two time slots and it's done. TAG LIST

Buck is 20 weeks pregnant:

“Ok, ok, you little monster, we will go to Micelli’s to get spumoni,” Buck says to his still pretty small belly, compared to the one Maddie had on the same stage. Doctors said it’s because of his height. He loves his bump a lot. It’s so beautiful and it shows enough right now that people don’t look at him strange, when he speaks to the baby, as it was in the first trimester.

He will get to Micelli’s for spumoni and then get home to bake cheesecake for Tommy to see him tomorrow. He doesn’t let his brain imagine how it will go. That's why today he was working with clipboards all over the station, before coming home. Lists kept him busy enough.

He parks and gets inside the restaurant, happy that it’s Thursday night so the palace should not be crowded, but his heart stops when he sees Tommy laughing and holding hands with a pretty man.

Hope leaves him again. His heart aches and cries in pain, but he refuses to let this man break it again. He runs to the jeep and leaves the place. He will find spumoni somewhere else. Not where the man, he doesn’t want in his life because he just so easily replaced Buck with a new toy, has dinner with said toy.

At home, crying in his bath full of water and lavender oil, he texts Lucy about plan change and why. He does not want Thomas Kinard near his baby. If a man wants to be a father, he can knock up this man with too tight jeans and too transparent crop top.

...

“You and I are better off without him anyway, right, love? You and I against the world?”

(nickname ) kicks and Buck can feel it not just inside but outside too. It makes him cry happy tears, “your first kick! Oh, your uncle Eddie would be so angry he missed it,” Buck chuckles, “I love you (first and middle name). So much.”

And for James his cameo 😉:

“One more push, Buck, and they are here,” his midwife, James - a really pretty young man with the most inspiring and sweet smile Buck has ever seen - instructs. Buck does exactly that, pushing with all the last strength he has, when he hears the most beautiful sound. His baby's cry.

Np tagging @wikiangela @hippolotamus @theotherbuckley @bewilderedbuckley @devirnis @typicalopposite @quintessenceofdust88 @weewoo911 @watchyourbuck @evansbuck-ley @edwigefenechs @repressedqueen @racerchix21 @powersuitup @pirrusstuff @perfectlysunny02 @aringofsalt @saybiwithme @lavenderleahy @leashybebes @diazheartsbuckley @mmso-notlikethat @crashthatcopter @bekkachaos @bi-buckrights @weewookinard @desert--moonchild @loucifersbitch

[typicalopposite]

we almost had it all

rated T | Trigger warnings: mpreg, blood, miscarriage

part one | read on ao3

Buck stirs; and the movement, coupled with a pained groan, is enough to wake Tommy out of the already restless sleep he was barely managing. He straightens himself in his hospital chair and waits for Buck to fully become conscious. “Hey,” he says softly when those gorgeous baby blues finally flutter open. Buck blinks a few times, taking in his surroundings, and tries to move; a deep, guttural noise escapes him immediately and he screws his eyes shut. “Easy there,” Tommy laughs, leaning forward to rest a hand on his shoulder, to ease him back down on the mattress. “You— you’re pretty banged up, Buck. Don’t move.” 

“Mmm…” he hums in response, shaking his head back and forth. “‘Vn… ‘vn!!” He furrows his brow and looks at Tommy, eyes sad and pleading; clears his throat and says… very intently. “Evan.”

Tommy stares at him, and feels his lips twitch, curling up ever so slightly, and he nods. “Okay, okay… Evan.”

As bright as the sun when it’s at its peak in the sky, with not a single cloud to hide its rays, Evan smiles. 

For now— at least for just a moment— it’s enough. Enough to take Tommy’s mind off the cramps the doctor in the ER said would probably last for a few more days. Enough for Tommy to appreciate what is here in front of him; what he can see and touch, that has a heartbeat and life… and not dwell on what has been lost. Enough to pretend— for just this blessed little moment— everything is going to be okay. 

*

Tommy explains the details of the accident to Evan. He tells him how the semi had run the light, and the side of the engine he was sitting on took the most impact. He tells him how the call came in and how he was prepared to fight someone if they didn’t let him fly to the scene. “My hero,” Evan laughs.

“Hardly,” Tommy rebuts, feeling his cheeks heat up. “I didn’t do much…” He didn’t do enough. He didn’t do the most important thing he was supposed to do. He didn’t keep their child safe. “B- But you’re safe… I’m so happy you’re okay…” 

At some point Tommy’s hand ends up in Evan’s. He holds it gingerly, like it’s a precious fragile thing he can break— he has broken enough of Evan already. He runs his calloused thumbs over the knuckles, and after a few moments teetering on the uncertainty of whether this is acceptable or not Evan finally splays out his fingers and intertwines them with Tommy’s. With that… Tommy carefully brings the hand up and kisses it— Evan uses the hold to pull Tommy forward into an actual kiss. 

He sighs against Tommy’s lips, and lingers there so long Tommy thinks he might have nodded off again until he finally hums like he’s content and Tommy pulls back to look into his eyes. “I’m so sorry, baby…” he says. 

“It’s okay…” Evan replies, and it’s really not… Tommy knows it’s not… nothing is okay. Not with the breakup, or Tommy running— Evan doesn’t even know the full extent of how not okay things are; would he be so forgiving if he did? He considers protesting, but Evan’s forehead is pressing against his and he seems so content with just being— Tommy can do that too, at least for the moment.

*

The moment proves to be short lived, and Bobby catches Tommy out in the lobby while Maddie is in with Buck, making her own fuss over him. “I talked to Lucy,” he says, eyes soft… and all too knowing. Tommy feels his throat tighten; he can’t even squeeze out a lame attempt at bitchiness towards her for blabbing his business. Somehow Bobby’s expression softens even more, as he reaches out and lays a hand gently on Tommy’s shoulder. “I am so terribly sorry, Tommy… If there is anything I can do— If there is anything you need… my door is always open, okay?” 

For a second Tommy feels that connection he’d felt way back when he was still at the 118. That strange powerful pull towards the new captain— something that was almost akin to how he suspected he should feel around his own father— that he never quite got the full experience of before his transfer. Tommy blinks at him, the lump in his throat too big, too wedged in tight to speak around, and he nods. 

“So is- is everything— are- are you…” Bobby sighs at himself, not seeming to know what to say. “How are you, considering…” 

Tommy shifts on his feet, and tries desperately to find his voice so he can lie his way out of trauma-dumping the past day and a half onto his former captain. 

He doesn’t want to talk about the miscarriage… He doesn’t want to talk about how, after the staff came out and learned what was happening, they rushed him inside, got him in a room— how they told him to try his best to relax; that his body should do the work… but if it didn’t they would have to intervene. 

Eight hours later… they had to intervene. 

He doesn’t want to talk about how he spent the entirety he was cohesive enough to think clearly… thinking about how Evan might be dying just a floor above while they scraped their child out of him. 

He doesn’t want to talk about how he felt so numb when they released him— how he winded up in the ICU asking for Evan Buckley, instead of going home. He doesn’t want to talk about how he took advantage of Evan's unconscious state to take in every aspect of his being: every dimple in his skin, every mole and freckle, every perfection and the imperfections, too. He is so beautiful and their child would have been so beautiful too. 

He doesn’t want to talk about it, or think about it… but he tells Bobby everything, anyway. He doesn’t even know why. He just starts talking and he can’t stop, and eventually he is talking and crying… and Bobby is just standing there listening; he lets Tommy have the floor, until he has said his piece. 

Then, without a word, he pulls him into a hug. 

And Tommy cries harder. 

He apologizes profusely, because he didn’t mean to cry all over Bobby, just like he hadn’t meant to cry all over Lucy— and like Lucy, Bobby assures him it is absolutely no problem. 

“Please don’t tell him…” Tommy finally manages to get out. 

“I didn’t plan on it,” Bobby says softly, rubbing a hand over Tommy’s back as his sobs, turn to cries, turn to just some shaky breath and sniffling. “But…” he continues once Tommy is calm. “I do believe you should. I think it would help with your grieving process. And I know that Buck would want to be a part of that with you.” 

Tommy feels his face crumpling again. “I know that, I just—” Tommy looks back towards the room. “I just got him back. I can’t— I can’t lose him again…” 

“You think you’ll lose him?”

“I lost his child…”

That’s enough for Bobby to pull back and give him a stern— but sympathetic— look. “That was not your fault, Tommy.” He stares at Tommy; Tommy knows he looks doubtful. He sighs. “Buck would never blame you for this loss… he’d more likely blame himself for causing it.” Tommy’s eyes go wide and he’s about to protest, but Bobby stops him. “That’s just Buck, he will find a way to shoulder the blame no matter what… but he would blame himself so much more if he knows you went through this pain alone. So I definitely think you should tell him.” 

*

Tommy waits until the visitors die down. 

He slips into the room after Eddie and Chris have left and gently pushes it closed behind him. It must be written all over his face because Evan immediately asks him if he’s okay. “No,” Tommy says, quietly, dreading this conversation already. 

“W- What wrong…” 

Tommy crosses the room and drops down into his chair, taking Evan’s hand between both of his. He licks his lips, but his throat is so dry it doesn’t help much. Words are nonexistent, his nerves are frayed. “I- I, uhm…” Evan is looking more panicked by the second and Tommy is starting to regret choosing this while he was still in the hospital, recovering. The bulky feeling of the massive pad the hospital provided reminds him he is also recovering and Bobby’s voice is in his ear encouraging him to go on. He laces their fingers together, and the first tear falls as he realizes— “I was going to tell you today anyway…” 

His voice is so small, he is surprised Evan hears him, but he does. “Tell me what?”

“That- That I was… pregnant.” 

It takes a couple seconds for Evan to register what he said. “You- You… what?” Another beat and he realizes the tense. “Wait… was?” Tommy swipes away at the tears, and nods. “You- You had a—” He quickly nods again before he has to hear Evan say it out loud. Now tears are filling Evan’s eyes, and he shifts himself towards Tommy. “W- was it because of— of…” 

“I guess the stress… and I- I probably should have never been the one to fly to the scene… I’m- I’m so sorry, Evan.”

“Wha— No… Tommy, no, it’s- it’s not your fault.” Evan squeezes Tommy’s hand, pulling him closer so he can reach up and caress Tommy’s cheek, running his thumb under Tommy's eye to catch the tears. “You should have never been put in that situation… I’m sorry about that.”

“You have nothing to apologize for either…” Tommy says, reaching up to hold onto Evan’s wrists; his lips tremble despite his best efforts to control it and his breathing is so shaky.

Evan nods. He moves over on the bed as far as he can and releases Tommy’s face to lower his guard rail. “Come here,” he says, holding his arms out to Tommy. 

“I’m not getting in your bed, Evan…” Tommy says, forcing a laugh. 

“I want to— I n- need to hold you,” Evan says, softly. “Please come here…” 

Tommy doesn’t fight that— honestly he’d love nothing more than to be held by Evan. He carefully climbs onto the bed, avoiding wires and Evan’s injuries, and eases himself up against Evan’s side. He feels the most at ease in Evan’s arms, that he has since- since the break up really… He lets his head fall to Evan’s chest and exhales; with it comes a sob, then another, and another. Evan’s body is trembling too, and he feels a tear fall from above him and land on his forehead. 

He carefully wraps an arm around Evan’s body, holding him close as they grieve what they’ve lost. 

They cry until they can’t cry anymore, and then they just lie there in silence, until Tommy thinks maybe Evan has fallen asleep. “I missed you so much,” Evan says, disproving the thought. His face is buried in Tommy’s curls and he presses a kiss against them. “I don’t want to miss you anymore…”

Tommy gently shifts so he can look up at Evan. “Me neither,” he says, and pushes up enough to capture Evan’s lips. He brings a hand up to hold Evan’s face while he kisses him, and he knows there is so much more to say— so much more to be sorry about, and work through. It won’t be easy, but it will be worth it. 

He hates that this is what brought them back together. He hates that they might come out of this stronger than before, but at such a great cost. He hates that they will never meet their child… 

But he has been given a second chance at a future with Evan… and with that, maybe, he can hope for a second chance at a family with Evan as well.

[haroldthehuckleberry]

desperate for money

CW-mpreg

i was absolutely desperate for money, id do anything. ANYTHING. i was doing tones and tones of jobs anything i could find but rent was expensive especially near my college, id gotten to the point of desperation where anything was on the table.

i saw an instagram post advertising for young guys ready to undergo a highly-risky surgery for a huge pay-out, £5,500! that was enough for rent for the rest of the time i was in college plus some!! i jumped at the opportunity and immediately replied to the ad not really thinking about the emphasis on the riskiness of the surgery.

after a few days of anxious waiting i got a reply informing me of where to go for the surgery and what time, it was later that day. before my appointment, i decided to shower and put on a nice t-shirt and pants. when i arrived to the surgery room a cute male-nurse with a nice plump ass showed me the way to the waiting room where a much older doctor described the procedure:

they would place a fully functioning vagina into me, uterus and all, and place the vulva between my balls and asshole, theyd leave it there for 5 months and track the changes to my body.

i have to admit it was more than i expected but i was on the verge of eviction and expulsion so i signed and agreed, before i knew it i was on the operating table breathing in anaesthetic and falling asleep…

i woke up in a different room in a different gown, there was a strange warmth coming from between my legs, i let my hands glide towards my new vagina it was already wet in anticipation, i let out a soft moan as i explored it, id never been into woman so id never felt one before but it was magical as i started tantalising the clit my cock stood on end, i grasped my cock with my right hand and began to finger-fuck my boy-cunt with my left, it was pure bliss. id been fingered in the ass before but this was unbridled ecstasy.

after id came and squirted i stood up and cleaned myself with a sink in the corner of the room before getting into my robe and leaving, i was met by the cute nurse again who handed me my clothes and an envelope of the cash, i was so overcome with my new pussy id forgotten about the cash! i was in ecstasy again as i ran back to my apartment to pay my rent and celebrate with some more finger fucking!

~5 months later~

honestly having a vagina as a college boy didnt change my experience too much all that had really happened to my body was my pecs had swollen somewhat, my thighs had grown with my now fat-ass (i wasnt complaining about!) besides turns out college kids are freaky! soon id been fucked, sucked and used by every boy, girl and inbetween on campus! sadly the day for my removal came so i drove to the same place the appointments (the original surgery and the weekly check ups) happened before, i saw the same cute nurse who seemed to be flirting with me, i blushed at his subtle advances as he showed me to the doctor’s room.

i sat opposite the doctor and he made sure i was ready for the removal- to be honest it saddened me, sex with both organs in use had been beyond belief - but i said yes, when i was taken into the surgery room the doctor explained that due to my high sex-drive hed need to check for a baby i explained that all the sex had been protected but he insisted. a good job he did.

i was 2 weeks pregnant.

he offered me the original sum again if i saw it full term.

i had to agree, not out of want for money but out of want for more ecstasy and unfathomable sex.

~3 months later~

the first few months of my pregnancy went as about as expected, explaining it to my school was…confusing but eventually they understood. morning sickness was a bitch but overall relatively easy, and yes i still was a massive man-slag. recently i noticed the first sign of a bump with a slight bloat under my abs- how exciting!

~2 months later~

im growing beyond control, the doctor says due to my male hormones my vagina is pumping more feminine hormones causing the baby to grow rapidly, my roomate has become a sort-of-boyfriend to me, hed fuck me or get fucked by me depending on my sexual needs, hed help me through morning sickness, to be completely honest i doubt id be able to do this with out him, at 5 months i looked at about 7 my belly was like a bowling ball attached to me, my pecs had become 2.5 sizes of proper bitch-tits my ass had plumped out my thighs had become that of thunder as my hips widened in preparation for birth.

~2 months later~

as my belly continued to expand at its rate getting to class was near impossible, my belly now looked like four or five pillows stuffed under my skin, none of my shirts fit properly and all clothes that would where too feminine so i had to waddle to class pathetically in hoodies that left my belly exposed from the belly button down, but simply i didnt care, technically anyone i walked past had equal chances of being the father, so no one gave me a hard time, including my teachers…

~1 month later~

at eight months pregnant i couldn’t possibly go from class to class and so i joined them all through a teams call from my dorm, the laptop resting on my beach-ball sized mid-section i was completely exhausted and uncomfortable constantly, my tits had now started to ooze milk whenever they please all my shirts either didnt fit, rubbed against my sensitive nipples or both thus i spent my time shirtless eventually giving up on underwear and becoming a nudist, not that my roomie complained we fucked like rabbits, it only being mildly inconvenient with my mountain of a stomach but we managed.

~1/2 a month later~

me and my now official boyfriend where right in the middle of him fucking my cunt raw while tugging off my cock when my water broke and soaked him completely he screamed in panic as he pulled out my hole. he fumbled for my phone to call the doctor who arrived in a matter of moments, eventually it was time to push…

after hours of painful, sexual, intense pushing i had birthed 2 beautiful baby boys the birth was not only painful but also very sexual as my most sensitive areas where forced beyond recognition, i had cum and moaned through most of the births, before the doctor left he gave me an envelope of the money and a date for the removal of my uterus and vagina, i told him i wanted to keep it, i think he understood.

hours after birthing my first children i was ready for my boyfriend to fill me with his, i wanted all of the pregnancy again…

[ladyeyrewrites]

Bun in the Oven

Rated M

Chapter 1/4

2160 words

chapter One of the trans!Tommy mpreg episode 8X07 rewrite I posted a snippet of on Wednesday.

Read on Ao3 or below the cut

There was a knock on the door.

Buck frowned. It was a bit early for it to be Maddie and Chimney but maybe they’d lucked out with the traffic situation. He wiped his hands on his apron, stepped away from the stand mixer, and answered the door.

It wasn’t Maddie and Chimney.

Instead, Tommy’s broad frame filled his doorway.

Buck’s breath caught in his throat. “Tommy, hi,” he said. “I was just thinking about you.” It was true. Buck hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Tommy since he’d overcorrected after the whole Abby reveal and asked Tommy to move in only for Tommy to break up with him because of some bullshit about Buck breaking Tommy’s heart in the future. So, Buck had done the only logical thing: purchased a stand mixer and filled his fridge with baked goods.

Honestly, Buck wasn’t sure if he was more angry or sad about the whole situation, but he did know that his stomach still swooped at the sight of Tommy standing in his door and it took every bit of self-control not to lean in to give Tommy a kiss hello. Not to wrap his arms around Tommy and pull him inside and never let him go.

“Sorry, I should’ve called before just showing up,” said Tommy. “But I think I left one of my chargers here and I can’t find my other one. So, dead phone.” Tommy sounded on the verge of tears which seemed strange when he could’ve just gone out and bought a new charger rather than checking to see if he’d left one at Buck’s. But maybe it wasn’t about the charger, maybe Tommy just wanted an excuse to see Buck.

Or was Buck letting himself get his hopes up for no reason?

“I uh, haven’t seen it. But are you okay? You look like you’re about to cry.” He wanted to reach out and touch Tommy, to offer some sort of comfort, but that wasn’t his place anymore. Tommy had taken that away.

Tommy shook his head. “Mood swings,” he says.

“Yeah, well break ups will do that I guess,” said Buck.

“That and I think I’m still adjusting to my new birth control,” said Tommy. About a month before the break-up Tommy’s primary care physician had suddenly retired and Buck had helped Tommy scramble to find another in-network provider who understood the healthcare needs of trans men. It had been such a headache and then once they’d found a doctor he’d wanted to adjust Tommy’s dosages and change Tommy’s birth control method from an oral contraceptive to an implant in the hopes that it would lessen the daily dose of dysphoria Tommy got when taking the pill.

“Listen, Buck—” Tommy started.

Buck flinched. God, it sounded so wrong hearing his nickname coming out of Tommy’s lips. It made him want to scream. But he was trying to be mature about this. Trying to be civil. Trying not to cling since that was clearly what Tommy wanted, and Buck could respect that even if he hated it. “I found some of your shirts in the laundry,” Buck said before Tommy could say anything else that was probably going to break Buck’s heart again. “I was going to text you.” Which was maybe a lie, because sure Buck had thought about texting Tommy, but never about the shirts.

He'd composed texts with everything he’d wished he’d said to Tommy instead of letting him walk out the door that night.

Texts that devolved into spiteful rants.

<em>Miss you</em> texts.

<em>u up?</em> texts.

All deleted and transmuted into baked goods: cakes, cookies, scones, loafs, Baked Alaska.

It seemed Tommy wanted to look anywhere but directly at Buck, which was just another thing Buck had lost. Buck blinked against threatening tears as Tommy glanced around Buck’s loft, eyes taking in the subtle changes that had taken place since they’d broken up, until his gaze settled on the mess that was Buck’s kitchen island. “You’ve been baking.”

Sure, Buck had baked with Chris before to help out with a school bake sale since Eddie was so culinarily clueless, but he hadn’t really done it in his own time until he’d found out about Tommy’s sweet tooth. He’d been practicing to make something for Tommy’s birthday but then Tommy had to go and dump him. Bitterness spiked through him. “Yeah. Anytime I get the urge to call you, I just I channel the impulse into something positive, like Baked Alaska.”

Tommy’s face twisted with regret, eyes growing glassy. Buck wasn’t sure if that had been his intention or not, but maybe it would be good for Tommy to really see how much Buck had been thinking about him. So, Buck walked over to the fridge and pulled out three loaves, making sure the fridge door was opened wide enough for Tommy to see the extent of Buck’s foray into baking and how often he’d been thinking about reaching out. “Here, you should take some.” He plopped three loaves into Tommy’s unprotesting arms. “Here’s a lemon loaf, and a walnut loaf, and a pumpkin loaf.”

“That’s a lotta loaf,” Tommy managed to say. “Buck, I—”

“Hang on, let me go grab those shirts,” said Buck because hearing Tommy call him by his nickname rather than his name made him want to scream and he didn’t want to do that, not when Tommy looked like anything could cue the waterworks at any moment. So, Buck might have fled his kitchen, jogging upstairs to grab the reusable tote bag of Tommy’s tee shirts and flannels he’d accumulated over their six months together. That bag had been haunting him every night as he lay in bed – alone – trying to fall asleep, wondering if Tommy was also alone or if he’d already managed to find a rebound.

Buck hefted the bag and his heart panged. Once he gave this stuff back, Tommy would well and truly be gone from his life. There’d be no excuse for Buck to reach out. No trace that Tommy had ever been in his life save for the indelible mark he’d left on Buck’s heart. So, Buck did something maybe a little impulsive and indulgent; he snagged one of Tommy’s flannels out of the bag and shoved it under his pillow.

He was absolutely not going to bury his face in it and cry himself to sleep later.

As he was engaging in some of the most pathetic breakup behaviour ever, his kitchen timer went off downstairs.

“Buck, do you need me to do something?” Tommy shouted up the stairs, voice carrying over the shrill timer beep.

“Yeah, could you just grab the baked brie out of the oven?” he asked. He snagged his favourite Tommy t-shirt out of the bag and stashed it with the stolen flannel too. If Tommy was allowed to unceremoniously dump Buck, then Buck was allowed to steal his clothes and not return them.

Buck gave a satisfied nod and started down the stairs to join Tommy. He was halfway down when he heard Tommy gag. Buck looked up from his feet in time to see Tommy turn literally green before unceremoniously dumping Buck’s baked brie on the counter, bee-lining for the sink and vomiting down the drain.

Buck raced down the stairs, rushing to Tommy’s side and rubbing smoothing circles on his back before he even realised what he was doing. “Are you okay?”

“Are you sure that cheese is okay?” Tommy asked catching his breath. “It reeks.”

Buck frowned as he got down a glass and filled it with tap water for Tommy to rinse out his mouth. “Uh yeah,” he said. “And brie’s not a stinky cheese.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Tommy sagged, leaning against Buck’s counter. “But my sense of smell’s been really weird the last few weeks.”

A sinking feeling filled Buck’s stomach. This all sounded very familiar.

They’d always been so good about using protection and between birth control and testosterone Tommy hadn’t had a period in well over a decade. But there’d been that little lapse before Tommy had found his new doctor and oh, God they’d definitely had unprotected sex that one time when they were both a little tipsy after getting back from babysitting Eddie. “You’re pregnant,” Buck blurted before his brain could send his tongue anything more tactful to say.

Tommy turned white as a sheet, eyes going wide. “I can’t be,” he said. “We were always so careful—” he trailed off and from the way his eyebrows shot up into his hairline Buck bet that Tommy had just connected the same dots he had. “Shit. You might be right.” His hand went to the back of his neck in a self-comforting gesture and Buck recognised all the signs of Tommy starting to spiral that he’d steamrolled over the night Tommy had ended things.

The last thing he wanted was for Tommy to leave right now. And that was probably the last thing Tommy needed right now. “Okay,” said Buck. He put his hands on Tommy’s upper arms and gently guided him to one of the bar stools. “Sit. Breathe. I need to make a phone call and then we’re going to talk. Okay?”

Tommy nodded, gulping down an unsteady breath.

Buck fished his phone out of his apron pocket and dialled Maddie. “Hey Mads, you and Chimney haven’t left yet, have you?”

“No, the sitter’s running late,” said Maddie. “Why?”

“I’m gonna need to take a rain check,” he said. “Tommy’s here.”

“Oh!” said Maddie. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“I don’t know yet,” said Buck.

“Well, let me know when you do,” said Maddie. “And take care of yourself.”

“Thanks, Mads,” Buck hung up and turned back to Tommy.

As soon as Buck’s eyes landed on his ex-boyfriend Tommy bolted up off the stool. “I should go,” he said. “You had plans and I should go.”

Buck took advantage of the fact that his legs were longer than Tommy’s and intercepted him before he reached the door.

“Buck move,” said Tommy. “I need to leave.”

“Nope,” said Buck. “I’m not going to let you walk away from me again. Not until I’ve said what I need to say, and we make a plan to move forward.”

“There is no moving forward,” said Tommy. “There is no “we” anymore. We broke up.”

“No, <em>you</em> broke up with me and left,” said Buck. “You didn’t let me say anything. You just decided on your own that there was no way I’d want you around in the future and then you left. Also, if you’re pregnant, I want to be there for you no matter what you decide to do, even if it’s just as a friend.” Because even though Buck so desperately wanted more, now wasn’t the time to say as much.

“It’s probably just a stomach bug,” said Tommy.

“If you really believed that you wouldn’t be running away,” said Buck.

Tommy flinched and Buck hated himself a little, but he needed to say everything that had been circling through his head in the time since Tommy had broken things off. “I don’t know what happened that made you think you could never be my last,” said Buck, speaking carefully so he wouldn’t say something he’d regret. “I know nothing I say right now is gonna convince you of the truth because now there’s maybe a baby involved and that complicates things, but I really wanted you to be my last Tommy. I still do. And this isn’t me asking you to change your mind about breaking up, but maybe it’s me asking you to trust that I actually know what I want. And what I want is to be there for you no matter what’s going on, in whatever way you’ll let me. Please let me.”

Tommy sighed and he looked at Buck so tenderly, despite the dark circles under his eyes that Buck had to dig his fingernails into his palms to keep himself from reaching out and cupping Tommy’s face in his hands to try to rub some of that fear and exhaustion away. “Okay,” said Tommy. He backed away from the door, returning to the bar stool at Buck’s kitchen island.

“I guess we should probably see if you really are pregnant,” said Buck, relief flooding through him.

“Probably,” said Tommy.

“I can run to the drug store and grab a few tests,” said Buck. “But you have to promise not to go anywhere.” He fixed Tommy with a meaningful look until Tommy met his gaze and nodded. Buck took his apron off and grabbed his wallet and keys.

“You promise?” Buck asked.

“Yeah, Evan, I promise,” Tommy snapped.

Buck grinned.

“What?” Tommy asked.

“You called me Evan,” said Buck and Tommy probably hadn’t meant anything by it. It was clearly a slip up, but it soothed something within Buck to hear Tommy call him that.

Tagging those who asked and those who seemed interested:

@silversky9 @unhingedangstaddict @ironspiderdad12 @beanarie @sporadicmakerwerewolf @azaharinflames @aisatsana441 @bugboybuck

[thinkofmehoney]

“Cooking up comfort”

mpreg!Choso x you

next part here<3

Summary: Neither you or Choso imagined that this could ever be possible, at first it was just a thought that crossed your mind. Since Choso was a half curse and had connection with the sorcery world. Would it be too crazy to find a way for him to get pregnant? Well, after doing an extensive research for a couple of months, and ten weeks later, Choso was expecting your child.

Even though it resulted possible for him to get pregnant, it wasn’t something common, a man getting pregnant was still something rare even though a lot of strange things were normal in this sorcery world. It was truly a blessing for both of you, it had its risks and complications, but he really wanted this, to form a family with you, and you would be there for him in every step of the way.

or

Where you cook lunch for your pregnant boyfriend and he gets too emotional (and nauseous)

contents: Mpreg Choso x female reader, fluff and slight angst, emotional hurt/comfort, slice of life, Unconventional Pregnancy, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence

Notes: Long story short, I was using Janitor AI, my API code was about to expire and I was bored and came up with this JSKSJS It wasn’t exactly like this, this is more of an inspired fic.

I mention this briefly on the fic, but basically they made their research until they found a doctor who could help them. The doctor was also a sorcerer, of course average people didn’t knew this, but other sorcerers did.

the doctor’s cursed technique was similar to Mahito’s technique, in the way he could modify the bodies of his patients without having to necessarily use a scalpel. He temporarily modified Choso’s reproductive system, giving him a female reproductive system until he conceived and his baby was born.

For you to be able to impregnate Choso, the doctor made an incantation for you, so first he modified your reproductive system turning it into a male one, but it was temporary, like Choso’s procedure but with a slight difference. With an incantation given to you by the doctor, you were able to change your reproductive system from male to female and viceversa, you couldn’t do it too often as you had to wait a few hours because of how energy consuming this was, but aside from that, you could modify it as you pleased. Choso’s procedure wasn’t like this, because to have a baby he needed a stable reproductive system that could be fertile, that’s why he had to have a female one during his whole pregnancy until the baby is born.

𓈒 ݁ ₊ ݁

Choso remembers well how he felt that day, when all your efforts and the procedures you both had to get through finally paid off. He felt shock, excitement, fear, extreme happiness, truly an adrenaline mix of emotions, after all, it’s not every day you’re a man who gets told that he is pregnant.

He was beyond excited to start a little family with you, the love of his life. He was grateful to have you by his side, supporting and loving him so sincerely, it was a genuine kind of love. He was totally convinced that you two were soulmates, sometimes it made you giggle by the way he explained so passionately to you that hypothesis.

It’s been already ten weeks since you two received the good news, but it hasn’t been exactly easy for him. The doctor explained this beforehand, so you two would know the risks and complications that were involved in Choso’s unique condition. Since he had a male body with a now female reproductive system, his body had to adapt and prepare for it, and now that he was finally pregnant, some symptoms were significantly stronger for him than they would be in an average pregnancy.

On the good side, since he had his blood manipulation technique, he could control things like his blood pressure, which was a really great advantage for him. On the other side, things like mood swings, cravings (and food aversions), and morning sickness were just a pain in the ass.

Choso couldn’t help but feel guilty that you had to keep up with him, you were just so kind to him it made him want to cry. Right now, he was reading a knitting and crocheting magazine next to you on the sofa, he enjoyed creating yarn pieces for his loved ones, but it mainly helped him to feel more human in a way, it had significantly helped with his existencial crisis as a half-curse, so it was a great hobby for him.

Focused on reading, he had a small frown on his face, which you thought it was adorable because he didn’t even noticed when he did it. You gently brushed the wrinkles between his eyebrows with your thumb, getting Choso’s attention and making him smile awkwardly when he noticed he was frowning unconsciously.

“I was doing it again.” He chuckled, now gently holding your hand that was caressing his frown. “I found an interesting pattern that I can do with a thin yarn.” He showed you on the magazine. “I think it would be perfect for the baby, because I need a special yarn for them so it doesn’t hurt their skin.” He explained with his usual calmed demeanor, and the idea of him crocheting things for the baby made your heart melt.

You took a look at the magazine, giggling at the images of tiny gloves and baby hats. “Yeah, our baby will look so cute with the tiny crochet pieces you’ll do for them, and it will also keep them warm, it’s perfect.”

You looked at the clock on the wall and noticed that it was time for lunch. Ever since Choso’s cravings started, you’ve improved your cooking skills so much that now cooking him specific plates he craved was like a personal challenge for you.

You stood up from the couch and stretched your arms above your head, Choso’s eyes subtly looked at you and the way your t-shirt lifted up just enough to see a strip of skin of your lower abdomen, making him blush slightly and turn to look down, back at his magazine.

“I’ll cook lunch for us.” You announced and Choso looked at you again, with a special shine in his eyes. “Is there something specific that you want?”

Choso thought about it for a moment, he loved the way you cook and having lunch next to you was one of his favorite parts of the day “What about avocado pasta? it’s been a while since I’ve eaten avocado.” He suggested.

You didn’t have a single avocado in the house. But it wouldn’t stop you.

“Sounds really good, avocado pasta it is.” You smiled at him, turning around to walk towards the main entrance. “I’ll be right back, I’ll go get some avocados!”

He couldn’t say a word before you were already outside. Half an hour later, you came back home with a bag of three avocados and also some cream, but you noticed a certain smell in the air, you walked into the kitchen to see Choso stirring a pot, boiling the noodles, he once again looked at you with that awkward smile of his.

“But Choso, I was going to cook lunch for us.” You said, leaving the avocados in the kitchen counter to walk towards him.

“I know, I know! I just wanted to do something while you were at the store. I want to help you as much as I can while I’m still not useless, you know?” He answered with a slight pout, he appreciated that you wanted to do things for him, but sometimes he felt like a burden, so he wanted to keep helping you now that his baby bump wasn’t big or heavy.

You caressed his strong arm, resting your cheek against his skin, “You won’t be useless, Choso. You’re carrying our baby and it takes lots of effort.” You said reassuringly. “I just want you to be relaxed, alright?” You explained to Choso your desire for him to experience a peaceful and relaxed pregnancy as much as he could, knowing that his journey wouldn’t be as easy as a regular pregnancy.

He put aside the wooden spoon he was using to stir the noodles and sighed, his gaze fixed on the bubbling water. Your arms moved to wrap around his waist, and your hands found their way to caress the small bump.

“Thank you for boiling the noodles, though.” You murmured, your cheek resting against his back. “But please don’t worry about cooking or washing dishes, let me take care of it so you and the baby can crochet something or watch a movie on TV.” A smile appeared on your face when you felt him chuckle.

He turned around to cup your face with his big hands, leaning in to leave a kiss on your forehead, “Alright, I can’t argue with you.” He smiled softly, looking at you with those tired eyes. “I’ll go to the living room, but please tell me if you need me to help.”

You nodded, standing on your tippy toes to leave a kiss on his lips.

𓈒 ݁ ₊

Choso understood completely that you wanted to do things for him, to make his day a little bit easier, he would do the same thing in your place, or he might be even worse. But again, he felt guilty.

It was most likely a product of his condition and hormones, because he just felt really bad that you were doing so much for him every day, things he could perfectly do himself. With this weight on his heart, he looked at you from the sofa, the food was ready and you placed the two plates on the table.

“Avocado pasta for your majesty.” You said playfully, taking your seat at the table.

Choso chuckled at your words, taking a seat next to you. He picked his fork and look down at the vibrant plate, the noodles were saturated with this creamy avocado sauce that you prepared just for him, and without wasting any more time, he pinched a few short noddles and started to eat.

But as he chewed, he started to think about how weird it felt to eat hot mashed avocado, the taste of the ripe fruit almost reminding him of a trash-bag with rotten vegetables, that smell was stuck on his nose and the slimy texture didn’t help. He started to chew more slowly, lowering the fork and setting it down with a soft clink against the plate.

While you were eating, you noticed Choso’s change of demeanor, and an expression on his face that seemed like he was about to cry and throw up, it worried you. “Choso? Are you alright?” You asked carefully, with a hint of concern.

He looked at his almost untouched plate with a mix of guilt and frustration. He felt overwhelmed by his fluctuating emotions, and this sudden aversion to the flavor of avocado only added to his distress.

“I’m sorry, love. I just… I can’t handle the taste of avocado right now,” Choso replied, his voice filled with frustration. He quickly looked at you “It’s not your fault, I know you put effort into cooking for us. It’s just… this pregnancy is messing with my taste buds and it’s driving me crazy.”

He sighed, his eyes welling up with tears. “I hate feeling like this, like I’m being ungrateful for all the things you do for me,” he continued, his voice wavering. “But the hormones are making everything so intense and overwhelming. I just want to be normal again and enjoy the things I used to.”

You felt a wave of sadness wash over your heart, it was difficult to see him like this, knowing that his pregnancy state is amplifying even more his frustrating emotions, you wished you could take all his suffering away from him.

You moved his plate aside and got closer to him, protectively wrapping him into your arms, his cheek rested against your collarbone while he hid in the crook of your neck. “It’s alright, it’s alright…” You cooed really softly, caressing his hair and letting him cry as much as he needed.

Choso shook his head, “it’s not alright, you even had to go out to buy the avocados to cook what I asked you and now I can’t even eat it.” He looked up at you, his eyes big and filled with guilt, “I didn’t want to make you upset, I just really can’t stand the taste of it right now, b-but I can make up for it! I can do whatever you want, I can cook something for you, just ask and I’ll-“

Before he could start to hyperventilate further more, you cupped his face in your hands, making him look into your eyes with his own glossy ones. When you pressed your lips on his forehead so softly and tenderly, he could only pout because of how endearing it was, you were too good to him, he didn’t felt like he deserved it.

“Breathe, baby, just try to breathe deeply for a moment.” You instructed gently, helping Choso to feel more grounded.

Wiping some stray tears with your thumbs, you continued to talk to him. “I’m not upset, pretty thing, it’s just avocado and some noodles, I couldn’t possibly get mad at you for it.” You smiled at him, your soft giggles making him feel more at ease.

Even though that pet name made him blush slightly, he still had some lingering self-deprecating thoughts. He opened his mouth to keep talking, but you stopped him right away with a short kiss.

You continued, with the softest voice. “I know this has been a really difficult journey for you, baby. I know you wish you could be like before, but I want you to remember that it will all be worth it in the end.” You smiled softly and reassuringly at him, “Some months ago, we wouldn’t even think this could be possible, but now look at you! You’re ten weeks along and you’re doing it amazingly.”

He smiled softly, his crying starting to cease. He leaned his head back on your shoulder, finding comfort in your warmth. “I think I’ve never imagined myself being pregnant.” His voice tinged with a mix of vulnerability and gratitude. “Well, I never really pictured myself living a peaceful life… But now, I feel so glad that I get to experience it with you.”

Choso now sat straight, wiping the remaining tears from his cheeks and sniffling his nose a couple of times, “Thank you for keeping up with me, even when I’m difficult sometimes.” He reached out to cup your face with his hand, gently caressing your cheek with his thumb.

You nuzzled into his touch, “Your body is going through big changes, it’s natural that you feel overwhelmed. But you’re not alone, we’re a team.” You kissed his palm, your lips lingering for a moment before you gently pulled away.

Choso's eyes reflected gratitude as he let out a small sigh. "I appreciate that more than I can express."

Now that he was more calmed, you remembered that he still had to eat something, he needed to eat good for him and the baby.

"How about we distract ourselves for a bit? I'll cook something different, and you can join me in the kitchen. It might be a good way to take your mind off things."

His eyes brightened with interest. "Cook together?"

"Yeah," you chuckled. "We'll make it a You and Me cooking special. What do you think?"

Notes: I’m not completely satisfied so I’ll write more one-shots for this mpreg Choso au !!

likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated!! it motivates me a lot<3

[brandileigh2003]

September reading wrap-up!

Total words: 1,926,834

Average: 64227/day, 3.6 hrs, 256 pages

Total fics over 15k: 22

**have you read any of these? Do you have a fave fic this month?

-Burning and Buried With the Rest of It by kalegreeneyes remus centric fic with platonic moonwater. Heavy angst and mental illness focus. Hea

-Found Heaven by fierrochase lovely fluffy text fic

-Engaged for 43 years by halfravenhalfclaw divergent look at wolfstar from 11 to death

-Timing is Everything by fruitloopin: mcd sickfic

-early morning, coffee cups by alarainai: Christmas get together (look. I know it's September 👀)

-Under Foot, Under Moon by sometimeswelose: divergent raising harry

-To have and to hold by her_smile_forges_galaxies wolfstar wedding where jegulus gets together

-Turn and Face the Strange by acciobonsai muggle au get together with angst

-The Infection by Sp00nhater sickfic

-I've got 99 problems, would you like to be one? Divergent enemies(ish) to lovers

-The Waste Land by afieryfox dystopian

-Siriusly? The Moon?! By montymoose: YouTuber/text fic (re-read)

-Solntse by lumosinlove: strangers (sex work) to lovers (reread)

-To Trust a Wolf by puuvillaa divergent 1st war, Sirius joins remus' werewolf pack

-mayors of simpleton by fruity_individual (re-read)

-Blue Moon Café by Lazuli_Moon (reread) ft raising teddy, coffee shop, chronic pain/illness, non-binary Sirius

-Kill Your Darlings by MesserMoon college au ft hockey and deaf remus (jegulus, wolfstar, rosekiller , marylily)

-Just what the doctor ordered by WrappedUp: age difference, pining, get together

-December's Light by krabapple: divergent 2nd war mpreg

-We Happy Few by krabapple: 1st war divergent

-Meet Me In The Exosphere by EuripidesTrousers: top gun au. Sort of the enemies to friends to lovers ft FWB (except there's real feelings)

-love in a heavy coat by waxing_hiraethh: memory loss, 1st war divergent

[starkstrangesorcerer]

Title: The Careful Balance of Love Tags: Omega!Tony, Alpha!Stephen, mpreg!Tony, Doctor Dad, Iron Mom, Family Fluff, Pregnancy Comfort, Domestic Fluff, Bonding, omegas are called mama and alphas are called daddy by their children Pairing: Stephen Strange/Tony Stark Characters: Stephen, Tony, Sophie (OC daughter), Bats Word Count: 2,350

Tony who was usually the one to take control of every situation, found himself sitting on the couch, his pregnant belly poking out in front of him, as he watched Stephen, bustling around the living room with their toddler, Sophie.

Sophie, all wild curls and bright eyes, ran circles around the house while Bats, followed her dutifully, his droopy ears flopping as he jogged after her.

"I've got it, Stephen," Tony insisted again, reaching for the baby wipes on the coffee table despite the discomfort that came with bending over too much. "I can take care of Sophie just fine. I don’t need you hovering over me."

Stephen shot him a look that could only be described as a mixture of concern and amusement. His brow furrowed slightly, his hands busy as he picked up Sophie and set her gently on his lap to prevent her from getting herself hurt.

"Tony, I know you can take care of Sophie. But you’re carrying our second child, and I want you to rest. You don’t have to do everything.”

Tony, ever the stubborn one, sighed. "I don’t want to be pampered, Stephen. I’m not an invalid."

Stephen placed a hand on Tony’s shoulder, his voice low and reassuring. "I know, and I’m not treating you like one. But I can handle this. You should take care of yourself, for both of you." He gave Sophie a playful smile, and she giggled, leaning forward to plant a kiss on his cheek.

Tony watched the two of them, his heart swelling with a mix of affection and frustration. He couldn’t deny that seeing Stephen with Sophie brought out the gentler side of the alpha.

Sophie bounced up and down on Stephen’s lap, her tiny hands reaching out for her favorite book. "Daddy, read," she demanded, her voice high-pitched and adorable.

Stephen’s expression softened, and he pulled the book toward him. “Of course, sweetheart.”

Tony couldn’t help but watch them, his hand gently resting on his belly. He still wasn’t used to the idea of being a pregnant omega, especially with how often Stephen insisted on taking care of things. But he also couldn’t deny how good it felt to see Stephen so involved in their little family. He smiled, despite himself.

Just as Stephen began reading aloud to Sophie, Bats trotted over to Tony, resting his chin on Tony’s lap with a soft, expectant look in his eyes. Tony scratched behind the dog’s ears, sighing again. "It’s like I have two babies to look after now," he muttered.

Stephen glanced up from the book, his lips curling into a small smile. "Well, you’re not the only one. I’m not exactly getting a break either."

"I know, I know," Tony grumbled, though the warmth in his voice showed he didn’t mind in the least. "But I’m still capable of taking care of our little one."

“I know you are,” Stephen replied softly, his gaze gentle. “But it’s important to rest, Tony. Not just for the baby you're carrying, but for yourself too. I want you to be okay.”

Tony opened his mouth to protest again but was cut off by Sophie’s giggle. She wiggled her tiny fingers toward Tony, trying to get his attention. "Mama, play!"

Tony smiled, the sternness of the conversation slipping away. He leaned down, letting Sophie climb into his lap. Bats, now satisfied with the attention from Tony, happily plopped down at their feet.

“I can play, little one," Tony said, his voice softening. "But remember, Mama’s not supposed to do too much right now.”

Sophie grinned mischievously. “But you can play with me, Mama!”

Tony chuckled, his irritation forgotten as Sophie clung to him. Despite his protests, he couldn’t help but enjoy moments like this, the simple joy of having his little girl in his arms, with Bats curled at their feet. He knew Stephen was right he didn’t have to do everything himself.

Stephen, noticing the slight exhaustion in Tony’s eyes, gave him a knowing look. He walked over and sat beside them, his strong arm wrapping around Tony’s shoulders as he kissed the top of Tony’s head. “You see? You’re allowed to rest. I’ve got everything handled.”

Tony tilted his head back, meeting Stephen’s eyes with a fond look. "I know," he murmured, his fingers absently tracing circles on Sophie’s back as she nestled into his chest.

Sophie, content and sleepy after their impromptu playtime, let out a soft yawn. Tony smiled and shifted her gently in his arms. “Looks like it’s nap time for the little one,” he said, rocking Sophie as he stood up carefully, his belly making the action a bit more awkward than it used to be.

Stephen quickly stepped in to help, wrapping an arm around Tony’s waist for support. “I’ve got her,” he said, taking Sophie into his arms once Tony had her settled into a comfortable position. “You just focus on resting. We’re a team, remember?”

Tony couldn’t hold back the smile that spread across his face. "Yeah, we are."

Stephen kissed him softly on the cheek before settling Sophie into her little bed in the corner. Bats immediately followed, curling up next to her, clearly sensing that it was time for everyone to relax.

Tony hummed before he settled back down onto the couch, his feet propped up. He closed his eyes for a moment, letting the peaceful atmosphere of their home wash over him.

He could hear Stephen humming softly as he cleaned up a few stray toys, and he felt a warmth spread through him, a sense of contentment that he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Maybe he didn’t have to do everything on his own after all.

And maybe, just maybe, it was okay to let Stephen take the reins sometimes.

[theskipatrol]

Burakhovsky mpreg hcs

Part 1/?

I think most people in the patho fanbase at this point think or at least hc Daniil as a transgender man so this ain't no omegaverse hc this is good old natural pregnant trans man content.

I image Daniil left town on Gorkhon after the plague to go back to the capital and record his findings and suffer the loss of the thanatica but eventually find himself missing Artemy (I hc during the plague there was romantic tension between the two but neither of them acted on it, instead Daniil was more focused on Eva)

After coming back to the town Daniil stays with Artemy and the two grow very close after an ambiguous amount of time that's not the important part what's important is the passionate gay sex between beefcake Artemy and Daniils cervix. Yadda yadda yadda they have a beautiful kin wedding in the steppe.

Prior to Artemy and Daniils wedding, kin members tell Artemy that even though he has adopted Murky and Sticky, that as the cultural leader of the kin it's recommended he has a blood successor to the title of menkhu and the Burakh bloodline should continue.

Kids and pregnancy were never discussed much between Artemy and Daniil and they didn't even know if Daniil could have kids. But after living with Artemy for quite some time and eventually having a traditional steppe wedding and becoming his husband Daniil eventually became used to the kins traditions and grew to appreciate Artemy's cultural heritage. So as tradition on their wedding night in a secluded hut in the steppe, they make that sweet sweet gay love bathed in he light of the fire and to the hum of the grass. Artemy gets Daniil pregnant that night.

The kin isn't thrilled that Artemy chose to marry Daniil instead of a woman and that he was so critical of their culture in the past but respect his decision anyways because Artemy is their menkhu

Daniil immediately knows he's pregnant and he's thrilled, not only because he's excited to start a family with his husband but being able to experience pregnancy firsthand he will be able to further his medical research in maternity.

Daniil seldom goes outside when he's pregnant. He doesn't want the townsfolk to see his bump or put his baby at risk

Daniil uses this as an opportunity for studying and research

Artemy is very invested and proud to take care of his pregnant husband and provide for him while he's carrying their child. Artemy is always waiting on Daniil hand and foot to make the pregnancy as easy as possible

Murky and Sticky are excited for a baby too. Murky was sad at first because she thought that Artemy didn't love her enough and he wanted another child but quickly learned that she was still loved no matter what.

Murky and Sticky love to feel Daniils bump and Artemy has Sticky study Daniil during his pregnancy to learn more about maternity care.

Daniil has crazy mood swings during his entire pregnancy but not so much strange cravings. Artemy cooks for him and their family.

Daniil and Artemy have a lot of sweaty pregnancy sex because of Daniils mood swings. Mostly hand and mouth stuff.

Laura and Rubin are the honorary godparents/aunt/uncle. Bad grief is the crazy uncle that would probably give their child dangerous fireworks.

Clara doesn't understand why Artemy and Daniil would choose to have a third child when they already have two but quits criticizing them when she sees that their whole family is hapoy for Daniils pregnancy.

Daniil stops binding when he realizes he is pregnant. His breasts were already sizeable prior to pregnancy but by his second trimester they were huge and he just wears a shirt and loose pants like a standard pajama set. Artemy loves seeing him like this

Artemy wishes for a girl so murky can have a friend and Daniil wants a boy to raise into another gentleman scholar

Daniil loves being pregnant because he might not have been able to prevent death as a doctor but he can create life as a doctor.

[pinkpilct]

forged in magic (1370 words) by pinkpilot Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Doctor Strange (Movies), Iron Man (Movies) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Tony Stark/Stephen Strange, Past Christine Palmer/Stephen Strange - Relationship Characters: Tony Stark, Stephen Strange, Christine Palmer Additional Tags: Mpreg, Post-Mpreg, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Inaccurate descriptions of science and magic, Newborn Baby Summary: "It's science and magic together. My expertise and yours," Tony had said, in that cocky way of his, that flicker of excitement that Stephen had fallen in love with reflecting in his eyes. "A little hocus pocus, a little quantum-biological manipulation, and boom. We’ve got a baby." "It’s not as simple as that, Tony," Stephen had replied, carefully weaving the intricate spell that would alter both their lives in ways no one else had dared to before. "We need to make sure everything is perfect so there’s no margin for error. This is serious."

[popcorn-plots]

Febuwhump day 13: "You weren't supposed to get hurt."

Title: You are.

Words: 176

Summary: Stephen watches his daughter grow up.

~~~

“You’re perfect…” He breathed, lying in a Kamar-Taj hospital bed, tearing up at the sight of his newborn daughter.

“You’re so strong!” He cooed as she took her first steps.

“You’re so talented.” He announced as she handed him her first preschool drawing.

“You are loved .” He told her, pressing their foreheads together before he sent her off to her first day of elementary school.

“You deserve better. Screw him.” He reassured her when her first boyfriend broke her heart.

“You will always be my baby.” He whispered, holding them close when they came out as non-binary.

“You will always be welcome home, my love.” He wrote to them when they moved across the country in pursuit of higher education.

“You will forever be loved, no matter what.” He assured once again when they introduced him to their girlfriend.

“You know that I will always be proud of you. My baby.” He cried, walking them down the aisle.

“.....you weren’t supposed to get hurt.” He whispered, cradling their head against his chest. His baby was gone.

Ao3

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Heyyyyy any lists and recs for Victorian Johnlock?? Thxxx sm I love all the work u put into this

Hi Nonny!

You know what??? I haven't put up a new list in AGES, but I don't have personal updates of my own recs, BUT I also REALLY NEED a list for this weekend, so GUESS WHAT??? You're the ask that I'm going to just tag-search my MFL list and make a Part Two :) So PLEASE NOTE I haven't read any of these and I'm not 100 on if they are Victorian AUs or ACD Canon. I just go based on what people recced to me or what I saw tagged.

If anyone has any fics that they wuold like to suggest, please do add them below! Enjoy!

VICTORIAN AU Pt. 2 (MFLs)

See also:

Victorianlock

ACD Canon

Long ACD Canon (MFLs)

Granada Holmes Fics (MFLs)

Victorian Meets Modern Johnlock

Regency AU (TO READ) [I know it's a different era but this is so that people know I have a list for "a similar era"]

2 Bits by Ewebie (M, 717 w., 1 Ch. || TABlock/Victorianlock || Shaving Each Other, UST/URT) – It was the quiet moments. The peace behind closed doors and drawn curtains. At the end of a case. At the end of a long day. At the end of their ropes, but away from society’s prying eyes. That was the foundation upon which the rumors were spread. Part 11 of the Tumblr Shorts series

Happy birthday, Sherlock Holmes! by Holmes_WatsonACSAneroxiaDalt (G, 1,665 w., 1 Ch. || Victorian AU || Established Relationship, Love Confessions, Light Angst, First Kiss, Idiots in Love, Hurt Sherlock) – During the journey, Holmes was overcome by a million overwhelming feelings. Today is his birthday. His birthday. And Watson, dear Watson, his sun in the sky, his purpose in life, had not achieved this. Maybe he forgot, but he couldn't blame him. A story were Watson forgot the birthday of Holmes. Or not?

The first time I ever saw your face by Vanimelda4 (G, 2,164 w., 1 Ch. || 1895 Victorian AU / TABlock || PODFIC AVAILABLE || POV Sherlock, Fluff and Angst, Meta Fic) – "Death cannot stop true love. All it can do is delay it for a while."

The Picture of Sherlock Holmes by CarmillaCarmine (M, 3,306 w., 1 Ch. || Victorian Dorian Gray AU || Angst, Paris, London, Travel, Painting, Major Character Death, Opera, Captain John, First Meetings) – Sherlock Holmes, a rich and frivolous man, after a lifetime of debauchery finally falls in love. His heart chooses Captain Watson.

Detectives, balls and proposals by Winxhelina (T, 5,365 w., 1 Ch. || Victorian Femlock || Genderbending, Disguised Sherlock, Misunderstandings, Falling In Love) – The adventures of Miss Sherlock Holmes and her friend Miss Watson. My attempt at writing Victorian Femlock after reading way too much Jane Austen and ACD. In which there is a ball, a case, a murder and a falling in love...

The Soldier And The Demon by LipstickDaddy (G, 8,998 w., 6 Ch. || Victorian / Demon AU || Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Soldier John, Demon Sherlock, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Protective John, Protective Sherlock, Happy Ending) – Johnlock/Kuroshitsuji AU - 1879. Captain John H Watson of the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers is dying from a near-fatal gunshot wound in the Kandahar desert; until a demon saves his life. There’s a catch, though; one day, his saviour will eat his soul.

Iris by Leloi (E, 11,302 w., 1 Ch. || Omegaverse || Time Travel, Mpreg, Infertility, Virgin Sherlock, Friends to Lovers, Established Relationship, Omega Sherlock, Jealous Sherlock) –John Watson was quickly learning to hate the Victorian Era. It wasn’t just the lack of proper medical care… Although that was a rather large component. It was the filth. It was the misery and the lack of regard for human life. Ok… So maybe the lack of proper medical care was a major component. It was difficult being a 21st century medical doctor stuck with 19th century technology. There was some sort of time travel involved. The really strange part is that there was a past version of himself living with a past version of Sherlock Holmes. Ok… So maybe that wasn’t the strangest part either. He seemed to be stuck in an alternate universe.

The Reawakening of John Watson by  221b_careful_what_you_wish_for (E, 20,463 w., 14 Ch. || Historical 1800s American/Victorian AU || Artist Sherlock, Writer John, Angst with Happy Ending, Bisexual John, Period Typical Homophobia, Sensuality, Experienced Sherlock, Pining, Past Drug Use, Slow Burn, Love Confessions, Flirty Sherlock, Frottage, Outdoor Sex, Trust Issues, Minor Character Death, Sexual Tension, Colorado / London, Rimming, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs,  POV John) – Trying to escape his troubled past in England, John Watson has started a new life in the American West. When he meets the handsome artist Sherlock Holmes, a smoldering attraction is sparked, complicating his quiet, carefully guarded existence. Maybe taking a risk with Sherlock is exactly what John needs to feel alive again...

The Inferno Club by SwissMiss (E, 20,841 w., 1 Ch. || BDSM Omegaverse AU || Alpha / Alpha, Victorian Kinks, Case Fic, Public Sex, Wax Play, Pain Play, Collars) – "I'm easy to find," said the young woman. "Hell, London, gets me every time." The real story behind The Adventure of the Illustrious Client.

An Unexpected Proposal by black_tea (E, 21,699 w., 6 Ch. || Victorian Omegaverse Johncroft || Beta Sherlock, Alpha Mycroft, Omega John, Bonding, Courting, Sexism, Sexual Harassment, Protective Mycroft) – John returns home from Afghanistan to find himself in a difficult situation. It's not easy being an omega without a mate in Victorian England. Though highly competent, most can't seem to see past his status. To make matters worse, he no longer has access to the suppressants handed out by the army. However, a chance meeting puts him in contact with one Sherlock Holmes and leads to something even more unexpected. Suddenly John has the prospect of a better life, if he can only bring himself to take it.

You’ve Got Mail: A Johnlock Victorian AU by MorganeUK (G, 37,112 w., 17 Ch. || Victorian AU / You’ve Got Mail AU || Friendship, Dev. Rel.) –  In 1881, Doctor John Watson, veteran of the second Afghan war, inherited a small but prosperous bookshop from his uncle. Against all likelihood, he embraced his new life joyfully and lived happily among his books and... other projects.This is, until the day a nearby store, Holmes & Brother, decided to add a book department to their already enormous store... Unable to find a way to stop his little shop from succumbing under Holmes’ expansion, Watson needs to find help! And who’s better than his dear epistolary friend! Part 6 of the Rom-com adaptations...

The Adventure of the Lost Boy by mydogwatson (T, 38,530 w., 11 Ch. || Victorian AU || Victor Trevor, Neurodiversity, Romance, Case Fic, Angst with Happy Ending, Time Jumps) – Sherlock Holmes makes his way through life as an outsider in Victorian England.

Silence by halloa_what_is_this (T, 44,993 w., 13 Ch. || The Piano Fusion || Victorian Sherlock, Dub Con, Voyeurism, Permanent Mutilation, Johniarty, Mute John) – In 1850, John is a mute young man forced to marry to save his father from indebtedness. His sister as his interpreter and his piano to keep him company, he travels to London to live with his husband James Moriarty. Without John's consent, James sells the piano to his friend Sherlock Holmes, who only asks for lessons from John in return. The lessons turn into a power play between the two when Sherlock proposes a deal: John may earn his piano back one key at a time, certain conditions attached. Part 1 of the Aborted Wings series

Always 1895 by standbygo (E, 45,901 w., 19 Ch. || Oxford Time Travel AU || Time Travel, Friends to Lovers, Case Fic, Victorian, Period-Typical Homophobia, Pining, First Kiss/Time, First Meetings, Slow Burn, Angst With Happy Ending) – Time travelling historian John Watson goes to Victorian era England to study, and meets detective Sherlock Holmes. He finds himself torn between the work he was sent to do, the exciting life of solving crimes, and the extraordinary Holmes himself. 

All Our Gifts At Once, or, the Young Sea-man by tiltedsyllogism (T, 48,119 w., 9 Ch. || Victorian Little Mermaid AU || Sacrifice, Pining, Angst, Realistic Fairy Tale, Bittersweet, Botany, Gardens) – John Watson, storyteller and shipwright's son, walks way from his entire life in Portsmouth to follow the mysterious Sherlock Holmes to London.

Vows Made in Wine by love_in_mind_palace (E, 59,837 w., 16 Ch. || Victorian Handmaiden Fusion || Romance, Angst with Happy Ending, Plot Twists, Mystery, Child Abuse, Dubious Consent) – John Watson, a low born young man from the slums of London appears in the farthest corner of country to work as a valet for the young master living in the secluded mansion. Secrets, betrayal, conspiracy. A love blossoming in the most unfortunate circumstances.

The Courtesan by delightful_fear (M, 67,865 w., 20 Ch. || 1860′s Victorian / Prostitution AU || Medical Examination, Alternate First Meeting) – Desperate times call for desperate measures. John takes a job as a live-in doctor in the most exclusive brothel in London, never thinking he would fall under the spell of it's most infamous consort, Sherlock Holmes.

Concurrence by Calais_Reno (M, 70,876 w., 23 Ch. || Historical / Time Travel AU || Mental Institutions, Modern and Victorian Settings, Period-Typical Homophobia, Alternate First Meeting, First Person POV Sherlock) – “How did you come to be in this place?” I have no idea what possessed me. Perhaps the sheer exhaustion of transport had weakened my filter. Or maybe it was simply that as I looked at the young doctor sitting opposite me, his face calm and professional, but bored (Shares a flat with a mate, who is seducing his girlfriend. Down on his luck. Evidence: clothing and shoes are good quality, but worn. Had to pawn his bag, but could have gotten more for the watch. Sentimental…) I had a sudden whim to give him an interesting story. I decided that Dr John Watson would at least have something to tell his flatmate tonight when he arrived back at his shabby little flat. Or maybe his girlfriend, if she hadn’t left him yet. And the truth was even more interesting than anything I could make up. Part 1 of the Concurrence Universe series

Observations on Sentinels and Guides in Victorian London by  RyuuzaKochou (T, 89,181 w., 13 Ch. || Victorian Sentinel / Guides AU || Action/Adventure, Hurt/Comfort, Romance) – A Victorian era AU where Sentinels and Guides are members of everyday society. Starring Sentinel! Holmes and Guide! Watson.

The Stories in Our Veins by victorianpining (E, 101,717 w., 29 Ch. || Dracula Crossover / Victorian / Vampire AU || Unreliable Narrator, Blood and Injury, Blood Drinking, Gaslighting, Mental Instability, Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, Strangers to Lovers, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Angst with Happy Ending) – You hold in your hands a leather-bound book inscribed with the title The Stories in Our Veins. No author is named by the cover. On the first page, the following passage has been written in an elegant, cursive hand: A confederate who foresees your conclusions and course of action is always dangerous, but one to whom each development comes as a perpetual surprise, and to whom the future is always a closed book, is indeed an ideal helpmate. Sherlock Holmes in “The Adventure of the Blanched Soldier,” written by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle in 1926.

Fin de Siècle Series by Calais_Reno (M, 102,149 w. across 20 works || Victorian AU || Alternate First Meeting, Friends to Lovers, Alternating POV, Misunderstandings, Period-Typicall Homophobia, Love Declarations, Grief/Mourning, Victorian Attitudes, Marriage of Convenience, True Love, Loneliness, Hurt/Comfort) – Holmes and Watson meet and commit themselves to one another, in spite of laws that make their relationship illegal. Holmes confronts Moriarty at Reichenbach hoping to end his influence in the government; he falls, but does not win. Moriarty's machine continues. While Holmes tries to make his way back to England, Watson, believing Holmes dead, suffers the consequences of their opposition to Sebastian Moran, Moriarty's successor. Finally reunited after several years, Holmes and Watson work to end the corruption that has taken over Britain's government.

Riptide Lover by jinglebell (E, 114,090 w., 20 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Merfolk & Victorian AU || Mermaid Sherlock, Human John, BAMF John/Sherlock, Possessive Sherlock, Oral Sex, Hand Jobs, Mild Gore, Dubious Interspecies Consent, Stockholm Syndrome, Dark Romance, Dubcon and Morality, Rough Sex, Abstract Mentions of Rape, Size Queen, Switchlock, Foot Fetish) – The year is 1866. When John becomes swept overboard, he never expects to encounter a living creature of myth. When the merman absconds with John, the lost sailor must use every tool at his disposal to convince Sherlock not to kill him. But it seems that killing John Watson is not what the deadly, beautiful creature has in mind at all...

WIPS / SERIES WIPS

Give Him a Mask by AStudyInAlgedonics (T, 10,382+ w., 2/6 Ch. || Sentinel / Guide AU || WiP || Alternate TAB, Sentinel Sherlock, Guide John, Drug Use, Not Nice Mary, Love Confessions) – Sherlock Holmes doesn't zone. Until he does, coming back from his near-exile, so hard that he strips John Watson's shields and draws him into the Victorian enigma of the Abominable Bride Emelia Ricoletti. But what he claims is a simple experiment in the mind palace proves to be far deeper waters than Sherlock meant to plumb, and if John can't break away from the script Sherlock's set him to, this strange zone may drown them both in the dark of the Reichenbach cauldron...

To Belong Series by DrFish (T, 19,400+ w. across 4 works || Series WiP || Victorian / Mythical AU || OctoJohn, Scientist Sherlock, Attempted Kidnapping, BAMF John, Protective / Possessive John, Developing Relationship, Being Lost, Size Difference, Capital Punishment, Happy Ending) – William Sherlock Scott Holmes failed to graduate the University of Cambridge class of 1877. Adrift in London, he accepts a post as assistant naturalist on a scientific expedition to the Western Pacific Ocean aboard Her Majesty's Sailing Ship Frontier. Events do not proceed quite as planned and Sherlock finds himself cruelly cast away by his shipmates. Perhaps he will find salvation in the company of a most unlikely sea creature.

20,000 leagues under the sea: A Victorian Sherlock AU by MorganeUK (G, 30,544+ w., 15/? Ch || Victorian Steampunk AU || WiP || Scientist Sherlock, Submarines) – The Holmes Brothers are living under the sea, protected from the world violence and general stupidity… Alone, with only a small crew, they explore the world inside their submersible. Perfectly satisfied and unaware of their loneliness, until they meet Captain Lestrade and Doctor Watson from the Royal Navy.

This Land We Have Chosen by redscudery (E, 86,309+ w., 16/19 Ch. || WiP || Victorian Canadian Farm AU || Farmer John, Prostate Milking/Massage, Mutual Pining, Colonialism, Demisexual Sherlock, Complicated Relationships, Slow Burns, UST, Awkwardness, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Virgin Sherlock, Canadian Politics, Angst with Happy Ending) – It’s 1866. John Watson is a former army doctor who served in India. He left the service after a mysterious traumatic incident and has been farming in the backwoods of Canada. Sherlock Holmes is an avid botanist and possible hysteric who is a very loud thorn in his brother Mycroft’s side. Since Mycroft wishes to run for Parliament during the first Canadian election, he knows he needs his troublesome younger brother out of their hometown of Carleton before he can precipitate any scandal—and what better place for a botanist than a backwoods farm? Especially when it’s run by someone who just might be able to treat Sherlock’s hysteria? Part 2 of the The Backwoods of Canada series

Untitled Nobility Series by hannahrieu (E, 95,770+w. across 4 works || Series WiP || Victorian AU || Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Dubious Consent, Angst, Mutual Pining, First Time, Friends to Lovers) – John is a servant in Halidon Hall until a tragic accident forces him to leave his home and join the army. After being wounded in battle, he returns to England and finds work as a valet for the Earl of Cornwall's second born son, Sherlock Holmes. Very lightly inspired by Mr. Bates's limp in Downton Abbey.

Fallen Through Time by susandwrites (E, 102,041+ w., 39/? Ch. || Outlander Fusion / Victorian AU || WIP || Time Travel, First Meetings, Meet-Cute, Frottage, Blow Jobs, Anal Sex/Fingering, Riding Crops, Rough Sex, Floor Sex, Breath Play, Light BDSM, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Switching, Romance, Sex to Love) – Inspired by my love of Outlander, but not exactly an Outlander AU. Sherlock Holmes, the world's only consulting detective, finds himself in Victorian London while investigating a murder. The first person he meets is Doctor John Watson, formerly of the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers and his world is irrevocably altered.

[edelfan]

Heavily inspired by @eclairfair98's The Unbearable Lightness Of Being - go read it if you haven't yet!

Warning: contains mpreg

Ice had thought that somewhere above someone had been listening to his prayers and had brought that last miracle to life - Mav and Bradley returning safe and sound to the carrier in a more than battered F-14. 

Until Maverick had collapsed in his arms right there on the flight deck…

As COMPACFLT he was supposed to sit in the debrief with Cyclone and the Daggers, but there was only one thing he could concentrate on right now - the man he loved more than his own life, who was being treated behind closed doors at the moment, leaving Ice to walk the halls of the medical bay restlessly.

It had seemed like hours until finally the doctor appeared.

“Admiral.”

“Commander, how is he?”

“We managed to stabilize Captain Mitchell. He suffered a grade 3 concussion, several broken ribs and a badly sprained ankle…”

Ice could feel a huge weight fall off his shoulders, however, he also noticed the doctor's hesitation.

“What? What is it?”

“There's something else we found.”

~~~

Maverick woke to a low steady beeping sound and a warm hand holding his own. His experience immediately told him that he had ended up in med bay once again. Trying to take a deep breath, hissing against the pain in his chest, his eyes shot open. 

The surroundings were familiar as was the person sitting next to him.

“Hey…”

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kick your ass off this ship into the icy waters of the sea.”

“Because you love me…?”

Mav grinned at Ice, but only got a dark look in return. He had fucked up royally somehow.

“Tell me, Pete, when I asked you what medical said after the Darkstar crash, what did you say?”

Looking at Ice with wide eyes, Mav knew it was better to stay quiet in this moment.

“All clear, just some bruising… You fucking liar never went to medical, right?”

“Tom, look-”

“Because they would have never cleared you to fly being pregnant!”

The beeping of the heart monitor was the only sound for a long moment.

“That's so not funny, Ice…”

“Maybe because it's no joke, Pete.”

Shaking his head, Mav looked down at his belly, covered by the scratchy Navy issued blanket, before staring back at Ice.

“That's not possible.”

“That's what I told the doctor. It shouldn't be possible. Not at our age, not after my chemo, but then you haven't been on your suppressants since my remission and if today taught us one thing, it's that miracles do happen…”

It didn't happen very often in his life, but right now Maverick was speechless. A part of him still couldn't grasp what Ice had just told him, but there was this strange feeling inside him that made every doubt disappear.

And when he pulled Tom in for a deep kiss, he knew that he would cherish this day - and their fourth miracle - forever.

[choco-cherry-chunk]

It is time!

Modern BBC Ghosts AU a la Cherry (i.e., with mpreg bullshit) - Part 6 (Final Part)

Part 6

“I beg your pardon?”

James had pondered an endless series of possibilities related to how he’d been feeling of late. After his minor heart issue, one would think he’d be more vigilant about his health. But denial could be addictive and it was only when Anthony had ordered him to visit a physician that he actually began to reflect. He wasn’t one for frantic symptom-googling, but he did wonder. His father had passed from stomach cancer; could it run in the family? What if he had some strange parasite from consuming the products of Mary and Annie’s gardening, a remnant of God knew what method of compost? Maybe it was just stress, as he’s been insisting to his husband it was, and he was just reaching a point in his life where he couldn’t operate as the well-oiled machine he so frequently saw himself as? Every option was equally anxiety-inducing.

He’d insisted to Havers that he could handle the appointment on his own. After all, it was one of the few days off the man had, and James didn’t want him to spend it in a doctor’s office. He had only agreed when James insisted he needed to carry out a few errands for his most immediate bridal clients, and that it would be easier to complete said tasks on his own. As he departed that morning, Havers held him at the door and pressed a kiss to his lips. When he pulled back, James’ gaze remained on the scar tissue about his left eye, the lightning bolt remains of shrapnel that nearly took him away. He did love those marks, those signals of his Major’s survival.

“Keep me informed. Call if you need me.”

Good Lord, did he need him now. James’ mind had chugged along all day, all the while he was confirming appropriate bouquet designs with his florist, visiting a barn venue to check on lighting repair progress, driving through traffic, sitting in a waiting room, completing endless forms, having his blood drawn, getting poked and prodded by someone who seemed barely old enough to attend university – let alone have graduated—

But now… now, his mind was at a screeching halt, the machine that ran his life hitting the brakes so hard that the wheels were off the track, flying over itself, hitting the ground hard enough to set the coal alight. Because what the devil did she mean—

“You’re pregnant. Congratulations!” She – her tag read Dr. Judy Egan, which seemed a name far older than she was – repeated the news with the same tone of delight, as if she’d given James a present she wanted him to open. “Now, we can see about getting a more concrete idea of how far along you are, if you can provide us with some more information.”

It felt as though he was hearing everything from underwater, and James had to resist the urge to go at his ears. He answered his questions as best he could, desperate to get his mind back on track. No, he did not have any children, nor had he been pregnant before. He’d been hospitalized the decade before for a minor heart attack, and was taking medication as a result. Yes, he did smoke – mainly pipe tobacco – and was inclined to the occasional glass of bourbon at the end of the day. No, there was nothing in his familial history to look for in this context. As for the other side of the family—

The other side. Because there was another side, another person to consider in all this. The gears of his brain began to spin faster and faster, kicking up dirt and rocks while still so off track. Havers. He had to tell Havers. This wasn’t just some intensive, enormous corkscrew in James’ life, but one that would impact—

He didn’t remember leaving the office. One moment, he was uncomfortably aware of the tissue paper beneath him crinkling and folding in a terribly distracting way. The next, he was sitting in his and Havers’ car, white-knuckling the steering wheel and refusing to look at the mess of papers dropped in the passenger seat. Scripts for vitamins, reminders of appointments, documents to be completed with his husbands, regardless of desired outcome.

He and Havers had never actually discussed children. It was never something that came up. Perhaps it was a result of their upbringings, the belief that men such as themselves were never to become fathers being what pushed them from considering such a possibility. Maybe it was their own experiences in the Service, the memories of what they’d learned and seen that kept them from wanting to raise something innocent in a world that allowed such atrocities. Or were those just James’ reasons? Yes, Havers never broached the subject with him, but what if that was just another example of the man’s kindness? In their early years, Anthony never forced him to come out, to outright admit to his feelings. Even when James had been ready to force himself to do so, Anthony had been kind enough to assure him it wasn’t necessary, to kiss away the panic trembling his lips, to so gently guide him through the ways he could physically show his love where words were difficult. And that had essentially been their way for years. Their love defined in paperwork, private intimacy, disguised efforts. Love was rarely stated outright, but always always implied.

“I will miss you, Havers.”

“Now, you know I’m more inclined to the likes of Cole Porter, but I did manage to find tickets to Carmen for July. I know you have been looking for a chance to see it performed live.”

“Do let me know when you’ve arrived. I worry when you aren’t here.”

“I still don’t understand how you could prefer Patrick’s methods to mine. If you must have your tea such a way, I will make it, but don’t hesitate to ask how to properly brew a pot when you’ve learned the error of your ways.”

“Anthony, I’m not sure what I would do without you.”

But what if that wasn’t enough? What if, after all these years, Havers had wanted things different, had only allowed things to be as they were, let things pass by undiscussed because that was the way James was? What if this… this thing was what drove the final nail into the proverbial coffin of their marriage—

The sound that drew him from his thoughts was somewhere between a crunch and a shatter. Scrambling to park, James got out and moved to the front of the car, sighing over what he found. One of Fanny’s massive flower pots was shattered beneath part of his bumper. He really had been too preoccupied; it was a miracle he’d made it back to Button House in one piece. Or was it considered two pieces?

He didn’t allow himself to dwell on it. Instead, he carefully collected what he could and hid the evidence behind the rose bushes. He could toss the evidence away when it was dark and he had proper gardening equipment. Once the task was complete, James’ eyes scanned the front of the house, confirming that no one had been a witness to his act. Eventually, his gaze remained on the familiar blue curtains, ones Havers had purchased when they moved in, feeling it appropriate to have something more easy to open and close above their kitchen sink. The fabric didn’t even twitch.

Button House was dead quiet when James entered. No arguments between Julian and Fanny in the library, no singing from Kitty’s flat, no sounds of Mary or Annie’s cooking progress in the kitchen. James stilled in the entrance, listening hard for any indication of other tenants. Nothing. He should have expected as much; it was the middle of the week and early afternoon. Then again, perhaps some part of him was seeking such a distraction. A reason to not go home and face this inevitability. His stomach sank all the more. When had he ever not wanted to return to his home?

Each door that led into each flat did much to hint towards who could be found behind it. Alison and Mike’s often featured some kind of seasonal décor, and items they (or Mia) had dropped usually dotted their path. Pat had hung a decorative “Gone Campin’” sign he’d procured from a charity shop, and the wall showed evidence of different hiking trips, if the dirt stains were anything to go by. The apartment shared by James and Anthony was spic and span, down to the freshly repainted wood grain and straightened entrance mat that read a simple “welcome” – no novelty décor, thank you very much. However, James hated how unwelcome he felt in that moment.

Their flat was just as it had been when he left hours ago, when nothing had been different. Evidence of their previous evening was gone. Havers had insisted they settle in for a quiet night, lounging on their sofa and watching The Pirates of Penzance (James should have known Anthony was worried by his willingness to watch that again). The throw blankets were folded away, the coffee table clear. The room smelled of freshly washed linen and in the kitchen, quiet music and water running could be heard.

Steps needed to be followed. If one thing could be kept steady, it was routine. James willed himself to follow it. Remove shoes, place on rack. Place wallet on side table, hang keys on key hook, hang jacket on coat rack. Take step, take step, don’t narrate each individual step in your mind—

Anthony didn’t immediately turn around when James entered. Not that the man minded. Perhaps it was the romantic in him, but James did like looking over his husband at all angles. The slender slope from his neck to his shoulders. The toned nature of his arms. The spot where his hair was just starting to thin – not that he would ever tell him, mind. Just that he liked to brush his thumb over it when they—

“You’d better hope Fanny doesn’t see what you’ve done to her geraniums.”

James instinctively stiffened when Havers turned, pausing to dry his hands on a tea towel. The water was off and the music continued to drift from his phone. That soft, easy smile Anthony was so often inclined to was already in place when he looked to James, but it quickly dropped away when he noted his appearance. “What did Dr. Boone say?”

Always so to the point. Yet another thing James loved about Havers. “He wasn’t in.” Perhaps that had been one triumph of the day. His usual physician had been out on holiday, so he didn’t have to be given this news by the man who was still inclined to calling Havers his “companion” whenever the subject arose. “I was met with Dr. Egan. Girl seemed barely older than your niece.” He stepped further into the kitchen, hands raised in an effort to force the tension from his body.

Anthony moved closer, accepting the invitation and resting his hands on James’ upper arms. “I hope you were patient with her.”

“I’m always patient.”

No comment was made, but both of them knew what it would have been if it was. After a brief squeeze, Havers moved toward the oven and turned a dial. “I assume you haven’t eaten. I’ve kept a plate warm for you.”

“Anthony—”

“I know your stomach’s been upset, but you need to try. Tell me everything the doctor said, but I doubt fasting was brought up.” Slipping on some oven mitts, he carefully removed a tray housing two plates from the oven and rested them on the stove. “It’s nothing heavy, just chicken, rice, and carrots. I didn’t even spice anything.”

James opened his mouth, prepared to insist that it wasn’t necessary, that perhaps they wait to talk about his visit until he wasn’t sure when, only for the scent of the chicken to cross the kitchen and very well sock him in the stomach. Gagging, he walked hurriedly down the hall to their bedroom and managed to fall in front of their toilet before he heaved. The strain on his stomach was only matched by the shock of pain in his knee where he hit the tile, though the shame of getting sick so abruptly was a close second. Good Lord, wasn’t the point of having a child to be to ensure it got enough nutrients while it was inside the body!?

Havers’ hand came to rest between his shoulders, James didn’t have it in him to resist his touch, to tell him to leave as he had in the past. He hated being in such a state, let alone being seen in it. Only when he felt his stomach had been truly emptied did he pull away, sitting back against the bath to catch his breath. Silently, Anthony flushed the toilet, still poised across from him. He didn’t speak, but his eyes… James knew he wasn’t simply pleaded, wishing to know the truth. He was worried, scared. He feared what was happening and James was the reason he was frightened. He’d done this to him before and now he was repeating that affair.

“Dr. Egan seems convinced that…” James swallowed, pressing his fingers to his temple as he struggled to explain, “That it’s not a disease. Or virus.”

“So she knows what it isn’t,” Havers offered cautiously, “Does she know what it is?”

“A… a baby, apparently.”

The bathroom was silent, save for the distant creaking of pipes that was commonly heard in the space. James slowly let his hand drop to his mouth, resting over his mustache and lips, afraid he would once more be sick just from saying the words. He felt something touch his knee and looked up. Anthony had moved closer, one hand holding his knee – mindfully his uninjured one – the other reaching to him.

“Oh, James…”

The pair embraced one another. James tucked his face to Havers’ neck and inhaled deeply; he was shocked that his aftershave didn’t turn his stomach, when so little was needed to set him off. Perhaps It knew something he didn’t… When they pulled apart, both were thankful not to see any wetness in each other’s eyes.

“How do you feel?”

“Still a bit nauseous, if—”

A hint of a chuckle escaped Anthony and he shook his head. “Not physically. How do you feel about being pregnant?”

There was that beloved pragmatism again. James sighed, sliding from his hold but still making a point to ensure their hands were intertwined.

“I don’t know.” He wanted an answer, wanted more than anything to have a solid inclination of what he did or didn’t want. But so much of his view of this was tied to Anthony. Before, it had been the military. If he’d been given this news when he was enlisted, he knew exactly what he’d have felt. But now, he couldn’t see himself moving toward any outcome if he was to do so alone.

“Alright. I don’t imagine you must make a choice right away,” He assured, eyes falling to James’ torso – was there something there to see already? “We can consider how things would—”

“How do you feel?”

He knew Anthony disliked being interrupted, but James couldn’t help himself. He had to know. Such decisions typically fell to the pregnant individual’s shoulders, he was aware, but he wasn’t inclined to have the final say without his husband’s input. “I want to know what you think.”

“Well, it’s—”

“I know it would be my choice, one way or the other. But I don’t believe we’ve so much as changed the oil in the car without a discussion.” James swallowed, trying not to grimace at the acid in his throat, “And you know I tend to value your opinion above anyone’s, perhaps even my own.”

“James—”

“And I won’t have you trying to tell me it’s all up to me. Because I’m not a father and have never seen myself as one, but I am certain I could be if you were too. But this is not something I would ever seek on my own and if you were against it—”

Lips silenced him. James instinctively closed his mouth, not wishing for Havers to smell the bile. When he pulled away, Anthony lifted a hand to James’ face, brushing his thumb along his cheek.

“I believe you would be a wonderful father.”

He was not even allowed an opportunity to argue.

“You’re passionate. Protective. You care so deeply and never want people to be unhappy. Yes, you’re stern and authoritative, often in times you shouldn’t be, but you’ve come far in your patience. I see how you are with Mia and no matter how you spin it, you’re essentially a father to Kitty. I don’t want any of your concerns about this to be tied to your abilities. Because you are more than qualified, darling.”

James pursed his lips, efforts to maintain a “stiff upper lip” beginning to crack. “I’m sure you’re aware that you are too.” Because if anyone was, it was Havers. Attentive, loving, kind. He did so much to reel James in, keep him from alienating others with his intensity while also never making him feel ashamed. He was so accommodating, cool in the face of uncertainty where James would so often fluster about. He was the kind of person who smiled at the children who stared at his scars, who happily baby-talked to Mia, who listened to endless stories from Alison or Mike about their child’s ability to stand-but-not-really. Was it so wrong to believe that the main reason James had the ability to be a father was because Havers was who he was?

“I am.” Anthony’s smile widened a touch. He wasn’t going to pretend he didn’t know what he was capable of.

“So we’re not concerned with qualifications.”

“No.”

James stared at his knee, where their hands were still interlocked. He could feel Havers’ gold band, pressed against his finger. They’d both been inclined to wear their rings on their left hands, ever sticklers for whatever they deemed traditional. He remembered proposing to the man, how scared he’d been even after more than a decade. They were both out of the service, both preparing to enter the civilian life they’d been apart from for years. Anthony had secured employment out in the country, doing the books for a history of war museum and archive. James… had no plan. He’d been taking orders for so long that facing a future in which he was not constantly at attention seemed inconceivable. But moving into a world he was unfamiliar with didn’t frighten James so much as the possibility of doing so without Anthony by his side. He wasn’t stupid enough to believe what they’d had was just some torrid fling, but some part of him knew steps needed to be taken, commitments made. So James showed up unannounced one evening at Havers’ door, ring box in hand, and with the same words on his lips that he found himself thinking on their bathroom floor:

“I want this life with you.”

Havers’ smile grew wider still, the act contagious as James allowed his own, hesitant grin. Laughter bubbled up between them, the sound seeming to echo in the enclosed room, and before either could consider the schematics, they were holding one another close as they kissed. Relief, joy, panic, excitement, worry, love – so, so, so much love, all of it threatened to flood their flat before they pulled apart and Anthony took James’ hands properly to help him up.

“You need to see about brushing your teeth. I’ll make you something else, but you’re definitely going to eat something. And you’re going to tell me how the appointment went.” Once they were both upright and Havers had squeezed James’ hands once more, he stepped out to let his husband ready himself.

Smiling after him, James absently let his hands drop, one to his side and the other just over his middle. A plan of action. He could certainly handle that.