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English
Series:
Part 15 of We'll Figure it Out
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Published:
2014-08-09
Words:
1,042
Chapters:
1/1
Comments:
3
Kudos:
537
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29
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13,385

We're Fucking Going Home

Summary:

Turns out the club isn’t so bad. He sips on a glass of water—he can't even have a fuckin beer to pass the time—and watches as Ian dances. His eyes rarely leave his own, rolling his hips in his direction and smirking when Mickey flips him off. Such a damn tease.

Notes:

Anon: Mickey pretty far along in the pregnancy and goes along to Ian's work and while his their Micky meets a nice omega and starts talking to him, while Ian's dancing he notices Micky belly rubbed by what he thinks is an alpha and gets all jealous.

How long has it been since I last updated? A couple freaking hours, that's how long. You little shits are so spoiled.
SPOILER ALERT: THEIR DAUGHTER'S NAME IS REVEALED!!

COMMENTS, KUDOS, BOOKMARKS, SUBSCRIPTIONS, MESSAGES ON MY TUMBLR, AND READERS ARE LOVED AND APPRECIATED!!!!

I am legit too fucking tired to read through this so, sorry about the ridiculous mistakes if there are any. I don't fucking know what this is.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

He’s bloated. He feels like a whale. He looks like one too. Ian doesn’t think so, though. Ian tells him he looks so perfect like this. Ian tells him he looks beautiful like this.

 

Ian

Ian

Ian

Ian

 

His mind is so full of Ian. He wants Ian all the time. They’re laying in bed together: Mickey is on his back just staring at Ian and Ian is typing away on his stolen laptop. Mickey watches silently for a few minutes. He breathes in deeply and wallows in the feeling of their daughter relaxing inside of him. She’s been restless lately, but he quickly picked up on her love for their Alpha’s scent.

 

He snuggles closer to Ian, pressing his nose into his hipbone. A hand comes down to rest in his hair, “She moving again?”

 

He hums his agreement and continues to breathe him in. “She’s fucking annoying, always trying to run a marathon when I wanna sleep.”

 

Ian snorts and sets his laptop aside. “I wish I knew.”

 

“Wish you knew what?” He asks as Ian flattens out, lying down beside him.

 

“What it’s like. I hate that you’re the only one getting to experience her.” He mumbles and wraps his arms around his waist.

 

“Fuck off; I’m sure she’ll prefer you. She prefers you once she’s out.” Ian buries his face in his neck, teeth sliding along his skin.

 

“She’s been inside you for eight months. You’re the entire reason she’s able to live right now. There’s no way she’d prefer me over you.” And he leaves it because sometimes it’s nice to have someone say nice things about you.

-

“Will you come to the club tonight?”

 

“What? I thought you wanted me stay as far away from the club as possible.” He turns to Ian who’s still wet from just getting out of the shower.

 

“I want you as close to me as possible. Who knows what happens when I’m gone.”

 

“Are you accusing me of cheating on you?”

 

“Of course not, Mickey. I’m afraid Lip might try and break down the door.”

 

“Oh my god, get over the fuckin thing with Lip!” Mickey groans and lies back on the bed. Ian snorts as he makes his way to the closet. He throws on one of Mickey’s t-shirts that were too big for him before the pregnancy and a pair of his own jeans.

 

“Will you come?” He asks again and sits next to him on the bed.

 

“Fine, sure. I love it when Alphas look at me like I’m a piece of meat.”

 

“You’re my piece of meat.” Ian reminds him.

 

“Yeah yeah.”

-

Turns out the club isn’t so bad. He sips on a glass of water—he can't even have a fuckin beer to pass the time—and watches as Ian dances. His eyes rarely leave his own, rolling his hips in his direction and smirking when Mickey flips him off. Such a damn tease.

 

“Hi,” Gentle, soft, warm, inviting: Omega. He looks over and down at a young boy who’s sat next to him. He wonders what such a young looking Omega is doing in a place like this. He subtly sniffs the air; thankfully this kid is on suppressants.

 

“The fuck you want?”

 

“You’re pregnant so you’re an Omega, right?” He asks, obviously choosing to ignore Mickey’s rude response.

 

“Yeah, what of it?”

 

“Me too.” What? He looks down, the kid’s flatter than the walls of the club. And he’s on suppressants. What the hell is he thinking? “I just… I haven’t met many Omegas and I have no idea what I’m doing and-”

 

“First of fucking all stop taking your suppressants, you’ll kill the baby.” He interrupts and Rebecca moves around inside him, kicking at his stomach.

 

“What?”

 

“There’s a warning on the bottle. Don’t stop taking them. How far along are you?” He asks and the boy looks around as if overwhelmed already.

 

“Oh, um… maybe two weeks?”

 

“Go to the doctor and make sure it’s not already dead.” He says bluntly.

 

The kid looks upset. “What if he really is dead?”

 

“Where the hell is your alpha?”

 

“Oh… um… he’s not… he doesn’t know.”

 

“You don’t have one. Trick question. You have to stop taking suppressants in order for the bond to work.” Mickey smirks because that was damn impressive what he just did there. “But really, whoever knocked you up, you need to find. The baby needs the Alpha’s scent to stay stable.” He only knows that from countless doctor appointments.

 

“Oh god…” Okay he really looks like he’s going to cry.

 

Fuck. What’ll calm him down? Oh, he knows. Rebecca kicks him hard again, “She keeps kicking me, you wanna feel?” He asks and the kid looks at, eyes shining like he hung the moon.

 

“Can I?”

 

“Sure, whatever.” Just as he reaches his hand out, he sees a blur of red and then hears the smack of hand against skin.

 

Ian stands in front of him, the kid’s arm slapped away from him, eyes hard. “The fuck do you think you’re doing?” He screeches at the kid. Mickey stares wide eyed at the back of his head. “He’s so obviously bonded; go find your own Omega!”

 

My god it’s so hilarious. Ian thinks this scrawny little Omega is an Alpha trying to steal him away. “Firecrotch, he’s a pregnant Omega.” He interrupts, standing up—which hurts like a bitch—and placing his hand on his arm. “Sorry about that. Hormones.” He apologizes in place of Ian before dragging him away.

 

Ian looks rightfully ashamed. “I didn’t know. He doesn’t smell like an Omega.”

 

“Suppressants, you dumb fuck.”

 

“Fuck you, Mickey.”

 

“Definitely not after that.” He shoots back and shoves his Alpha into the room in the back where he changes. “Get dressed, we’re going home.”

 

“What?”

 

“We have the best sex when you’re jealous. We’re fucking going home.”

 

Ian stares at him for a long time before he slips into the small room. He rubs along his stomach, looking at the vast expanse of his own skin. He doesn’t feel nearly as fat when Ian looks at him like that.

 

“Ready to go?” He asks when he reemerges.

 

“Yes,” Mickey replies, “let’s get the fuck out of here.”

Notes:

I'm not creative enough to come up with some fun way to convince you to follow me every time. Just fucking do it.

Would you like me to write something? Leave me a comment or send me a message on my tumblr . I write every single prompt.

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