#How To Conceive After IVF Pregnancy

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Shatter With Me | Waving The White Flag

↳ Model!Jungkook x Surrogate!f.Reader ⤜ Surrogacy, Best Friend's Husband ⤜ Rating: MA 🔞 ⤜ WC: 18,286 ⚠️ Crass language, talk of infertility, drinking, very mild bullying and references to cruel behavior/words, talk of surrogacy, at-home medical procedure, genital touching (non-sexual), planned pregnancy, talk of pregnancy termination/abortion, BIG hurt feelings, open palm slapping, accusations of infidelity

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Jungkook

Jungkook never thought he’d be haunted by such a small, seemingly insignificant thing. A tiny pastel pink line. Singular. Just like all the ones before it. He’s lost count of exactly how many, but it’s been years; every month, the same outcome. A singular pink line telling him he’s failed. He knows that’s a bit harsh, but it’s how he’s starting to feel—like a complete and utter failure.

“We’ll try again next month,” Jiyoon offers, dropping the offending piece of plastic in the bathroom trash before giving Jungkook a tight smile.

“Have you given any more thought to trying IVF again?” Jungkook asks hesitantly, knowing that’s a sore subject. But, dammit, he’s not in the proper headspace right now to think better of it.

Jiyoon glares at him, her pouty pink lips drawing taut. “I told you not to ask me that ever again. Now, get out. I’d like to take a shower.” When Jungkook doesn’t immediately move from his perch on the bathroom counter, she tags on a frustrated, “Please.”

Jungkook hops down, his socked feet swishing over the tiled floor as he retreats into the master bedroom. The door forcefully shuts right on his heels, echoing the hollow ache in the center of his chest. He promised himself that if it didn’t happen this time, he’d just try harder next time.

Yet, there is only so much he can do. Pushing any harder might widen the rift slowly forming between him and his wife. Already, Jiyoon spends more time at work than with him. Her glares of irritation any time he seeks intimacy outside of their strict ovulation schedule are like holes being punched into his resolve.

After nearly two years of trying, he sought medical answers a year ago. Jiyoon was quite cross with him when she found out he went to the doctor, but he needed to know if it was his fault they were having trouble conceiving. The numbers were standard, slightly higher than average even. The utter devastation on Jiyoon’s face, he’ll never be able to forget that day. Because if he isn’t the problem…then that means she is.

It’s his fault. He wasn’t even thinking about that potential. Jiyoon hasn’t been the same since. That’s when the schedule came into play. That’s when she started to pour far more energy into waiting for the perfect moment instead of just enjoying their time together.

Jungkook can see the disappointment, the guilt that eats away at her each time that single pink line reveals itself. He wishes more than anything there was a way to change it, something more he could do. Yet, she refuses to consider the option of IVF, not after the horror story she heard from her friend Dani. She refuses to even talk about it.

There has to be another way; he’s just not sure what it might be. Jungkook is at a loss, and it feels like the weight of the world is sitting heavy right between his shoulders. The shower kicks on in the bathroom, and Jungkook decides to busy himself by making Jiyoon a cup of tea for when she gets out. He knows she’ll want to spend some time relaxing before bed, and tea always helps.

💔💔💔

Not a day goes by that you don’t think about your best friend, Jiyoon, and the unfortunate circumstances that have befallen her and her husband. It’s not a secret amongst your peers that they’ve been trying to start a family with no luck for several years. It breaks your heart every time she gives you a shake of her head when you look at her with hopeful eyes.

Today isn’t any different. You’re sitting at your desk, absently clicking through the latest portfolio files you got from Namjoon, when Jiyoon walks by your desk, heading toward hers. She’s half an hour late this morning, something that’s pretty routine every few weeks. It’s like clockwork. You’re aware of the ovulation schedule that she and Jungkook keep and know that she allows herself extra time the morning after taking a test to steel herself against the disappointment that will come from the pitying stares in the office.

You catch her eye as she settles into her desk chair, and she gives you that subtle shake of her head. There is tension in her shoulders, and her bottom lip looks like she’s been chewing on it in irritation, but she turns around and gives you her back before you can think to question her about it.

“Morning, Jiyoon,” Namjoon says as he steps out of his office. Namjoon is also well aware of the unfortunate circumstances surrounding Jiyoon and Jungkook. It’s why he doesn’t hassle her about being late, something you’re endlessly grateful for.

Jiyoon is your only friend, and you are very protective of her. Well, that’s not entirely true. The protective part is, but she’s not technically your only friend. She’s just the longest friend you’ve had and the one you hold closest to your heart—your best friend. Though, even still, everyone else are really just people you know through Jiyoon or from work. Maybe that’s sad, but you don’t mind it.

“Jiyoon!” Dani squeals from the other side of the office. The bubbly, energetic woman flits across the room, looking every inch like a fairy with her blond pixie cut, petite stature, and buttoned nose.

“Oh gosh, hey. Come here!” Jiyoon swings her chair toward Dani as she beckons her forward, letting you catch a glimpse of her profile. There is a smile on her face, but it’s hard to tell whether it’s strained or not. Jiyoon has always been beautiful, with not a single wrinkle or blemish in sight. Looking at her body language, it’s even harder to tell.

Giggles punctuate their whispered words as Dani crouches beside Jiyoon’s chair, their heads pressed close together. You watch as Dani slips something into Jiyoon’s hand before she stands and waggles her brows down at your friend.

“Have fun,” Dani sing-songs as she prances away from Jiyoon’s desk. Her gunmetal eyes meet yours, and her face sours before she disappears beyond your cubicle.

“What’s that?” you ask a beat after she’s gone and before you can curb your curiosity, tinged with mild jealousy. Dani has made it clear before that she doesn’t like you very much, only tolerating you for Jiyoon’s sake. So, it’s no surprise that you don’t find yourself included when it comes to anything involving Dani—it’s something you’ve chalked up to her own jealousy, perhaps at the fact you’ve been Jiyoon’s friend for so long.

Jiyoon flicks her eyes in your direction before stuffing whatever Dani gave her into her purse. “Just some antacids,” she says, giving you a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.

All suspicions disappear as you take in the controlled curve of her lips. She looks miserable. “Oh,” is all you can manage before Namjoon calls everyone’s attention to the front of the room.

“Good morning, everyone. Let’s start this week off on the right foot. We have reports to file and new contracts to negotiate…”

You and Jiyoon have always aspired to work for a marketing and media agency together. So, when the opportunity presented itself, you both were elated to land jobs with Kim Exclusives, one of the most popular management companies for up-and-coming artists, models, and influencers.

That was seven years ago, and your time here has only solidified your friendship with Jiyoon. She met her husband, Jungkook, through the agency. He was one of the first models signed to Kim Exclusives, and you and Jiyoon both handled his portfolio and schedule for a year before she had to give you sole leadership over it once they became intimately involved—the whole conflict of interests thing.

“Are we still meeting tonight?” you ask Jiyoon as the day draws to a close. She’s still diligently working away at her computer, and you stand outside her cubicle with your bag on your shoulder.

“Hmm? Oh. Umm, yeah, I guess. I might be a bit late, though.”

You peek over her shoulder. “Is that the new Song profile?”

“Yep,” she pops the end of the word, keying you into thinking she's not in the mood to chat right now.

“Okay, well, I’ll see you guys later then.”

Jiyoon makes a noncommittal sound, already focused back on her work. You miss the days when she would give you more than a few passing words. Even on her good days, it seems like she’s growing further and further away from you. It’s hard not to feel guilty over the bitter and lonely feelings you get when you think about it. It’s not Jiyoon’s fault that you don’t have more close friends to turn to. But sometimes you wish you meant as much to her as she does to you.

As soon as that thought crosses your mind, you mentally kick yourself. It’s not fair for you to think that. You know Jiyoon cares for you; she’s just had a rough few years, and you shouldn’t be making it about yourself.

Feeling truly like a shit friend, you continue to chastise yourself over the next two hours as you commute home and get ready for tonight. Five minutes away from the pub, you consider calling Jiyoon and canceling. But, just as you pull out your phone to do that, someone calls your name from down the sidewalk.

You turn to see Taehyung and Jungkook waving at you from across the street. Well, there goes your intention to cancel.

“Hey! Have you heard from Jiyoon?” Jungkook asks as he and Taehyung jog across the street.

You press your lips into a thin line, confused. “Did she not come home?”

“Ah, no. She said she was working late and that I should just go ahead and meet up with you and Taehyung. She’s, uh, well, she’s not answering my calls. We—this morning…sorry, just, have you talked to her?”

Doing your best to keep your eyes on his, you give him an honest answer, “She was still working when I left the office. I haven’t heard from her since.” Losing the battle against your will, your eyes sweep over your best friend’s husband. He’s just as gorgeous as he always has been. His hair is a little longer than the last time you saw him, licking at the collar of his denim jacket. As the lead on his contract, you know he recently landed a massive campaign with a new clothing company, their emblem stitched onto the breast of the coat. Jungkook looks every inch the model he is; his friend no less so.

“Hey! Happy Birthday!” Taehyung greets you as your eyes swing to him.

Warm embarrassment kisses your cheeks. You hate your birthday; you hate being the center of attention. “Thanks,” you murmur, giving him a tight smile.

“Oh, yeah, happy birthday,” Jungkook tacks on. He rubs the back of his neck, giving you an apologetic look. “Should we go ahead and go inside?”

“Yeah, sure.” As Taehyung leads the way inside, you type out a quick text to Jiyoon asking how long she’ll be.

Thirty minutes later, you’re sitting in a mildly withdrawn personal bubble of silence as Jungkook and Taehyung chat about work and sip on fingers of liquor. You’re normally not so silent with them, as they have been clients of yours for years but you’ve also grown to think of them as friends. It’s just you have a lot on your plate right now, Namjoon just added three new clients to your work portfolio, putting you at juggling almost a dozen. You don’t mind the added workload, it helps keep you busy, but it does mean you have to switch around your schedule a great deal and have less time to spend with Jungkook and Taehyung who are two of the longest portfolios you’ve managed. They have a joint ad campaign coming up for the whiskey they’re sampling right now and are trying to decide if they actually like it or not.

Over the years, you've learned that advertisements are just that—a cleverly crafted piece of media to highlight a product. The models in a hamburger ad could very well be vegan, but they’re paid to make you believe otherwise. So, even if they decide they don’t like the whiskey, money will say they do.

Taehyung is a bit newer to Kim Exclusives, a model by complete accident. He came into the office once with Jungkook, just friends hanging out with each other, and the moment Namjoon saw him, he had to have him. A few weeks later, Taehyung was added to the roster of elite models under Kim Exclusives, booking just as well as any veteran.

“It’s a little too smokey for me, I think,” Taehyung comments. “What do you think?” he asks, setting his glass on the table and startling you out of your thoughts.

“What?” You blink up at him, totally lost.

“Give it a taste.” He taps the rim of the glass. “Tell me what you think,” he encourages, pushing the glass closer to where your hands are clasped together on the table.

You don’t really want to try the whiskey, but the expectant looks on Taehyung and Jungkook’s faces make you pick up the glass and take a tentative sip. It burns across your tongue, coating your throat in a fiery, smokey blend of burnt spices. The flavor sits like ash in your mouth.

“It’s, uh…”

“Not great, right?” Jungkook gives you a lopsided grin, his shoulders stretching the seams of his jean jacket as he shrugs. “It’s okay to be honest about it.”

You slide the glass back across the tabletop toward Taehyung. “Yeah, it’s not great. It might be better on ice, but I’m not a big drinker, so I think it’s hard for me to judge it fairly.”

They both seem satisfied with this response and resume their conversation about the whiskey and the new campaign. You check your phone, wondering where Jiyoon could possibly be. There is no response to your text.

You’re picking at the frayed edge of the paper coaster that’s slowly growing waterlogged from the condensation dripping down your glass of ice water when Taehyung taps on the table in front of you, trying to capture your attention.

“Isn’t that right?” he asks.

“Sorry. Is what right?” You feel heat bloom in your cheeks at being caught not paying attention yet again.

“You’re healthy.”

That statement has confusion replacing your embarrassment. “Healthy?”

“Let me backtrack,” Taehyung says, leaning back in his seat and throwing an arm over the back of Jungkook’s chair.

“Taehyung, really, this isn’t the time—”

“Ahem,” Taehyung interrupts Jungkook’s protest. “Hypothetically speaking, if your best friend and her husband were to inquire of you about the possibility of surrogacy, what would you say?”

The dots aren’t connecting for you, and his blunt question makes you feel like you missed something important. “Surrogacy?” You don’t mean to sound like a broken record, repeating what Taehyung is saying, but you’re thoroughly having a tough time understanding.

“Listen, you don’t have to answer that,” Jungkook states, shaking his head at Taehyung and giving him a pleading look that says to stop while he’s ahead.

“Are you and Jiyoon looking into a surrogate?” you ask; everything suddenly clicks into place, and the question tumbles from your lips before you can stop it. 

Jungkook grips the back of his neck and grumbles something incoherent towards Taehyung before he blows out a heavy breath and his eyes slowly rise to meet yours. “Not exactly, no. We haven’t talked about it yet. It’s just something I read about today. But, honestly, you don’t have to answer the question. Taehyung is just being a dick—”

“I’d do it.”

Your response leaves Jungkook with his mouth open and jaw slack as he stares at you in bewilderment.

“See, I told you. She’s perfect. Young, healthy, and someone you know and can trust,” Taehyung tots off, waving a finger in the air.

“Wait…are you serious?” Jungkook asks, pointedly ignoring Taehyung.

You’ve never considered being a mom before, at least not in that sense. It was always an assumption that it wouldn’t be in the cards for you—the whole lack of a love life thing being the crux of it. You’ve barely had a handful of boyfriends, much less a long-term commitment that would lead to a family. But, when it comes to Jiyoon, you’d do just about anything for her. So, if she asked you to carry a baby for her, you know, without a doubt, you’d do it.

“Y-yeah. Yes,” you state with more confidence. “I’d do that.”

Before Jungkook can respond, Jiyoon bustles in through the bar's front door, her lilting laughter drawing everyone’s attention. She has her phone pressed to her ear, and she’s smiling at whatever the person she’s speaking to is saying.

“Okay, yeah. Tomorrow sounds great. See you then,” Jiyoon says before ending the call and pocketing her phone. “Oh, Taehyung is here.” It’s a bland statement, Jiyoon’s eyes flicking over Jungkook’s best friend before landing on her husband. “Did you order me a drink already?”

Jungkook clears his throat, trying to compose himself before speaking. “Babe, hey. Um, no, I wasn’t sure when you’d get here. You weren’t responding to any of my calls or texts.”

Jiyoon slides into the empty seat beside you, across from Jungkook, and gives you a quick smile before wrinkling her nose in his direction. “I’ll take a glass of red.”

“Oh-kay,” Jungkook says slowly, a look of confusion ghosting over his features. “Where have you been?”

“Hmm? Oh, just busy with work,” Jiyoon says. “Wine, please, Jungkook.” His only response is a tight press of his lips before he stands up and disappears in the direction of the bar. Jiyoon clicks her tongue and angles herself to look at you. “You’re not drinking?” she asks, eyeing the glass of water on the table in front of you.

“Um, no. You know I don’t—”

“I know, you’re boring,” Jiyoon sighs. The only thing taking the sting out of her words is the smile she gives you. You know Jiyoon isn’t exactly what people would call a nice person; in fact, she’s often coined as a ‘mean girl.’ But she’s never been intentionally mean to you, not really. She just provides constructive criticism and encouragement to be the best version of yourself that you can be.

“Way to be a bitch to her on her birthday, Jiyoon,” Taehyung mumbles into his whiskey glass before tossing it back and downing the rest.

Jiyoon winces and then plasters a smile on her face before saying, “Right, happy birthday.”

“Yeah, thanks.” You make your best attempt at nonchalance, but you’re not sure it lands properly as Taehyung shakes his head, and Jiyoon sighs again.

“I forgot, okay? It’s been so busy at work and with—uh,” she pauses for just a second, and any other time you might not have noticed, but you can’t help but pick up on the way she rushes to continue, “the new client that you know Namjoon has been breathing down my neck over. The Harper portfolio, you know the one? And apparently, the Song profile needs to be redone on top of that.”

Jiyoon has been different lately. You’re aware that she took over one of the new higher-end clients, some big hot-shot movie star or something like that, but it’s almost made her seem like she thinks she’s above everyone else. It makes things tense sometimes like everyone is on edge when she comes around. You try to ignore it, for the sake of tonight. “It’s okay, Jiyoon, really.”

“Anyway, how are things going? It’s been a few weeks since we last talked about something other than work.”

Yeah, because every time you turn around Jiyoon is spending time with Dani or has a client meeting. You shrug. “Okay, I guess.”

Taehyung pipes up in the silence that follows, “We were actually just talking about surroga—”

“Red wine for my wife, another whiskey for Tae, the good stuff this time, and a pina colada for the birthday girl. Virgin, I made sure. I know you don’t like to drink alcohol,” Jungkook interrupts Taehyung, passing out the cluster of drinks in his hands.

You stare up at Jungkook, lips slightly parted as you try to think of the proper response, completely taken off guard by his gesture. Finally, you lamely offer, “Oh, uh, you didn’t have to, but thanks.”

“Nonsense. It’s your birthday, you deserve a little treat, and I know you like pineapple.” Jungkook settles back into his seat, and you try to keep your eyes off your best friend's husband. But it’s hard with how his hair falls into his face, and the denim hugs his shoulders as he relaxes against the back of his chair.

“Ew,” Jiyoon gags dramatically, startling your attention in her direction. “Is that a jacket from the shoot today?” She gestures at Jungkook, the distaste apparent on her face. “I know they didn’t dress you in that. What were they thinking?”

Jungkook frowns, staring down at the oversized light-wash jean jacket. “You don’t like it?” he asks.

Jiyoon scoffs, “It looks ridiculous, you look ridiculous. What the hell did you do to your hair? A mullet, really? It’s a wonder you’re a model. You were okay with this?” The last part is directed at you, because, as the lead on his profile, you’re the one who signed off on the hair and makeup for the shoot.

“Hey now,” Taehyung states loud enough to quiet the table; he’s clearly not having any of Jiyoon’s antics tonight, long work day or not. “Keep your petty bullshit opinions for when you’re at home. Tonight isn’t about you or how handsome my best friend is in his jean jacket and new hairstyle.” You can tell he intentionally calls Jungkook his best friend instead of Jiyoon’s husband as an extra jab.

“I never said he wasn’t handsome,” she grumbles, rolling her eyes before looking at Jungkook and sighing. “Sorry, dear, I’m just under a lot of stress. You know I didn’t mean it.” Her eyes flick to yours. “I know it’s not your fault.” You just give her a subtle shake of your head, not sure how to respond.

Clearing his throat, Jungkook smiles, though it doesn’t reach his eyes, and tries to move the conversation along. “It’s okay. Let’s just focus on why we’re here tonight.” He swings his eyes toward you, his smile becoming genuine, and begins to loudly belt out Happy Birthday, much to your dismay. This draws the attention of everyone else in the bar and earns you a generous round of applause when the singing finally fades.

You try to enjoy the rest of your night, but every time Jungkook catches you staring at him, you can’t help but feel a small spike of guilt; guilt over the perhaps tiny, mostly insignificant, completely harmless crush you might, perhaps, maybe have on your best friend’s husband.

It’s hard not to be attracted to him; Jiyoon knows that—she flaunts that fact. She also knows her claws are deep in him, and he’s not going anywhere. Jungkook would pull down the moon for her and then ask if she wanted the sun, too. You swallow down the last of your pina colada, eyes once again locked on Jungkook as he throws his head back and laughs at something Taehyung said.

Jiyoon presses her arm against yours, leaning in close to you. In a soft voice meant only for you, she whispers, “He really is perfect, isn’t he?”

“Hm? Who?”

“Don’t play coy with me,” she giggles drunkenly. “I know you were staring at him. My husband.”

You shrug. “I wasn’t staring.”

Jiyoon sighs wistfully. “It’s okay to stare, I don’t mind. I know what he looks like, after all. He’s so beautiful when he’s happy. I wish I could give him what he wants, he’d be the perfect father…I’m so scared to lose him.” The last part is whispered, so soft it’s hard to hear.

Instantly, your guilt turns into something else: resolve. You can’t bear the defeat you hear in her voice. It’s not something you can even begin to fathom—what she and Jungkook are going through. It’s no wonder she has caustic words at times. You meant what you said earlier, what you told Jungkook you were willing to do. With that in mind, you make a mental note to start researching and do what you can to make sure at least someone gets a happy ending here.

💔💔💔

Jungkook

The night of your birthday kept playing over and over again in Jungkook’s head the days that followed. Now, just as evening is rolling around, one week later, he can’t stop thinking about what you said, your confirmation. On top of that, that night was probably the most fun Jungkook has had in a long time—as long as he excludes the prickly start after Jiyoon arrived. He’s used to her snide and biting remarks after a long work day. Brushing them to the side and sweeping them away is usually easy.

But for some reason—perhaps it was the high he was riding after your confession and confirmation—it bothered him that she was doing it in front of Taehyung—in front of you. As if somehow her criticisms might make you both believe them. Not that he cares about being good-looking to Taehyung, or you for that matter, not really. It’s just that his first thought was what if that made you change your mind? Not necessarily whether or not he’s attractive, but the exchange as a whole. What if Jiyoon’s blatant criticisms made you want to change your mind because it somehow planted doubt in your mind that they’re a happy and healthy environment for a child?

“Jungkook.” The frustrated snap of his name brings him out of his thoughts. His eyes focus on the bathroom mirror once more, on Jiyoon, who is standing behind him with her hands on her hips, accentuating the flattering cut of the navy-colored dress she’s wearing. “Are you even listening to me?”

Turning and leaning back against the counter, Jungkook gives her his full attention. “Uh, yeah, sorry. You were talking about having dinner with a client tonight, and you’re leaving now to meet with Dani so you can get some files.”

“Yes,” she says, her lips twitching in mild surprise, and Jungkook knows she was expecting him not to have been paying attention. “I don’t know how long the dinner will last, so don’t wait up for me. It’s likely I’ll be home late.” She turns to go back into the bedroom, and Jungkook isn’t sure what possesses him, but he surges forward and gently snags her wrist, turning her back toward him. “Uh?” she makes a sound of mild questioning irritation.

“I have something I need—er, want—to talk to you about. It should only take a moment.”

She shakes his hold off her wrist and gives him a placating smile. “Okay, well, talk while I finish getting ready at least.” Not waiting to see if he follows, she disappears into the bedroom and heads to the closet, rummaging through her jewelry.

“Okay, um. Okay,” Jungkook stumbles over his words, feeling like he’s under pressure for some reason. “So, the other night, it was brought up in conversation, and uh, she already agreed, and it’s just that, well, there’s this thing called intracervical insemination and…how do you feel about surrogacy?”

There is a heavy pause, dread threatening to make Jungkook backpedal and eat his words just to snatch them back out of the air. Jiyoon glances at him over her shoulder, but he can’t get a clear read on her eyes. “What? Oh, yeah, sure,” she says, turning back to her digging.

Jungkook can’t tell whether Jiyoon is the one paying attention to him now, so he probes further, just to be clear. “You mean that? You’re okay with going the surrogacy route? My sperm, her egg…your best friend carrying our baby?”

Jiyoon’s back is to Jungkook, but he watches how her shoulders slide up in a shrug. “Of course, why wouldn’t I be?”

“I’m not sure, it’s just that with ICI—”

“Look, Jungkook,” Jiyoon says, turning to face him fully. Her fingers work at slipping a pair of silver hoops into her earlobes. “I trust you.” She says the words slowly, keeping her eyes intently locked on his. “I know you’ll do your best for us. Whatever you want, it’s what I want, too. You know that.”

“Well, um, do you have any questions? We should talk…discuss this, er, something. I know how you feel about IVF. I want to make sure this is an option you truly want, and you’re not just saying this to make me happy. You should take some more time to think about it.” The fact she’s so quick to agree makes Jungkook question whether or not he’s hearing what he thinks he’s hearing.

Jiyoon cups one of his cheeks, gently thumbing over his bottom lip. “I don’t need time to think, because I’ve already thought about it. I—well, I was going to bring it up to you soon, but I wanted to do a bit more research first.”

“Wait, what? Really? You were thinking about ICI, too?” Jungkook swallows hard, leaning into his wife's warm touch.

“Yeah,” she whispers, her soft smile making her eyes twinkle and his heart melt.

Jungkook can’t help letting his eyes drink in his wife. They might have been going through rough patches the last few years, but that hasn’t lessened how he feels about her. Jungkook has always found her strikingly beautiful, with long legs and shiny hair that he loves to run his fingers through. But at this moment, he feels like he might burst with the love he has for her.

“Yeah? Okay. Okay,” he tries to suppress the emotion in his words. “Okay, perfect. I love you. I love you so much!”

Jiyoon laughs, and it sounds magical, as Jungkook sweeps her into his arms and plants a kiss on her lips. “Don’t smear my lipstick, please,” she mumbles, her voice light and playful.

“Go have a good dinner, secure the client, and don’t worry about anything else,” Jungkook bubbles happily, setting Jiyoon back on her feet. “I swear I’ll take care of it all. Everything will be perfect, absolutely perfect.”

An hour later, Jungkook walks up to your apartment door. He couldn’t stop himself earlier, so he immediately texted you and asked to see you as soon as Jiyoon left for Dani’s.

The door swings open before he can knock, revealing you standing there breathless and in a set of purple checkered pajamas. “Is everything okay?” you ask, worry lines creasing between your brows. “Your text sounded urgent.”

“Oh.” Jungkook feels terrible for making you concerned. He didn’t mean for it to come off like that. “No, I mean, yes, everything is okay. But, no, it’s not exactly urgent. Sorry for that. I didn’t mean to make you worry.”

You lean against the doorframe, eyes wide on his. “What is it?”

“Er, uh, do you mind if I come in? This is more of a sit-down kind of conversation.”

The little ‘o’ your lips form is far cuter than Jungkook has a right to think it is. His mind instantly latches onto it, wondering if the baby would have your lips or his. “O-okay, sure, come on in.”

Jungkook has visited your apartment a handful of times over the years. It’s quaint and cozy, exactly what he’d imagine for you. There are books everywhere, shelves full of thick and thin volumes of literary prose. A few art pieces decorate the walls, along with dozens and dozens of black-and-white photos in simple frames. He stirs up the recollection that you enjoy photography in your spare time.

“Sorry, again, about my text. I didn’t mean to worry you, really.” Jungkook feels nervous, unsure where to stand or even sit, until you gesture toward the couch. A handful of well-loved decorative pillows are scattered across the burgundy suede. He settles at one end as you take the other, looking at him expectantly.

A beat or two passes, and Jungkook feels like he’s about to swallow his tongue until you open your mouth, clearly picking up on his distress. “Is it something with work? I can try to fix whatever it is first thing in the morning—”

“No, no,” Jungkook holds up a hand, shaking his head. “It’s not work. It’s um, it’s actually Jiyoon. Well, me and her, specifically.”

You pull your knees up and tuck your feet underneath yourself. “Oh, okay.”

“Were you serious about what you said the other night?” Jungkook blurts, figuring it’s best, like ripping off a bandaid.

Your bottom lip has an indent left from where you tucked it between your teeth before nodding. “Yes.” Jungkook didn’t necessarily expect you to say no, but the rush of relief he feels at hearing that encourages him to press on.

“I talked with Jiyoon about it today and she—we—would be honored if you’d do that for us. If you’d give us a chance at having a family. It’s…it’s something we both, deeply, deeply desire. If you’re truly serious about it, we’ll take care of everything, all medical expenses, bills, anything…just name it, it’s yours.”

“That’s—okay, okay, yes. Yes, I’ll do it. Just tell me what I need to do.”

Jungkook whoops loudly, jumping up from the couch, and drags you into his arms for a bear hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! I can’t even begin to explain what this means to me, to us. This is…I can’t…oh my, I need to—wait, okay. Sorry, let me calm down for a second.” The word vomit is real, and Jungkook uses his hold on you to ground himself, moving his hands to your shoulders and locking his eyes on yours. “I think I might pass out,” he whispers a second before bursting into a giddy laugh.

“Whoa, um, sit down. Please don’t pass out on me. You’re too big for me to catch!” Your frantic words make him laugh even harder.

He shakes his head, on cloud nine. “I’m kidding, kind of. I just feel…I feel so light, like—well, it doesn’t matter about that. What matters is you. Please don’t feel obligated to do this. That’s the last thing I want. If you are serious, I can send all the information you need to you in the morning. But only if you’re certain.”

“Jungkook,” the way you say his name makes his heart thump heavy in his chest as if his fate hinges on whatever comes next. “I am serious. I promise. I want to do this for you, for Jiyoon…I want to give you both the happiness you deserve.”

“Thank you,” Jungkook says fervently, never meaning something more in his life.

This happiness carries Jungkook through the rest of the evening, turning into a brilliant flame of intimacy when Jiyoon crawls into bed beside him hours later. For the first time in a long time, there is no schedule, no waiting for the perfect moment; it’s just the love shared between two souls celebrating the joys of life.

💔💔💔

The following day, several emails from Jungkook are waiting for you; Jiyoon CC’d on them all, as well as a few texts to check in. The idea that you could possibly be pregnant in the coming weeks or months—not just pregnant, but pregnant with Jungkook’s baby for your best friend—still feels a bit surreal.

You texted Jiyoon last night, expressing to her how much she means to you and that you’re honored she wants it to be you that helps her fulfill her dreams of having a family. She hasn’t replied yet, but that doesn’t bother you; she’s probably busy helping Jungkook with planning.

There is an entire email dedicated to medical referrals. Apparently, Jungkook spent hours pouring over all the local doctors and medical facilities vetting to find the best ones. Each has notes and suggestions under them, along with all the information you might need to call and make an appointment.

That’s really all you need to do: make an appointment for a check-up. Taehyung made an assumption of your health last night, but it doesn’t hurt to be sure. The last thing you’d want to do is be in poor health and unable to keep your word.

Your fingers tremble as you dial the numbers, and you have to take a few shallow breaths to get your voice to work properly. Minutes later, you have an appointment scheduled for later this week. Now, all you have to do is figure out how you’re going to wait the next few days and not burst from anticipation. It’s a slow few days.

Apparently, by Googling every possible thing you can think of about being a surrogate and pregnancies. Along with the emails full of information, by the time you’re walking into the clinic for your appointment at the end of the week, you feel confident asking questions.

“Being a surrogate is a pretty serious situation. Have you considered all the possibilities and what might be required of you?” The doctor has a pleasant demeanor; her eyes are intense yet kind. It might be the steel-colored strands scattered through her hair or the wrinkles that deepen around her eyes when she smiles, but you feel comfortable opening up to her.

You roll your lips between your teeth before saying, “Honestly? Probably not as much as most surrogates. I’m sure there are things I’m not aware of yet. It was only presented to me a few days ago. But I have done some extensive reading and soul-searching, and I know it’s what I want.”

Dr. Lee contemplates you for a moment before nodding. “Yes, I believe you do. Let’s get started, shall we?”

It’s not uncomfortable going through all the tests and procedures. There isn’t much the doctor does that you haven’t done before. Samples are taken, and a routine exam is performed. As you leave, the nurse tells you you should have results within the next two weeks.

Thankfully, the results come at the beginning of the following week. You’re sitting at your desk at work, reviewing the final details for the whiskey campaign Jungkook and Taehyung are shooting in a few days, when you get the notification that your results are viewable on your patient portal. A moment before you click into the email, your phone buzzes in your pocket.

“Hello?” you whisper, cupping your hand around the base of your phone and mouth. A nurse rattles off your information, ensuring she speaks to the right person. “Yes, speaking.”

“I just wanted to let you know that all of your results are in, and Dr. Lee has signed off on your request to move forward with the surrogacy…” Everything else the nurse says is a bit hazy. She covers the numbers for your tests and where to find resources for more information on at-home intracervical insemination. “Do you have any questions for me? Ma’am, are you still there?”

“Oh, umm, yes, sorry. No questions, thank you so much.”

The line disconnects, and you sit there for a few more moments, the phone still held to your ear, as you try to process the giddy feeling bubbling up inside you. You need to tell Jiyoon, Jungkook, someone…anyone. Pushing up from your desk, you scan the area around you for your best friend and come up empty.

“Hello?” Jungkook answers on the second ring.

“Jungkook.”

“Oh, hey. Everything okay?”

“What? Oh. Yes. Yes, everything is okay. Everything is perfect. Do you know where Jiyoon might be? I haven’t seen her since she came into the office this morning.” You rack your brain, trying to remember if you saw her leave or go into another room.

“Yeah, she called a little while ago and said that Namjoon was having her meet one of the new clients for lunch to sign some more papers.”

“Right, that’s right,” you say, recalling that Namjoon asked her to come into his office shortly after she arrived this morning.

“Why? What’s up?”

You drag a slow, shallow breath into your lungs in an effort to slow your rapidly beating heart. “I heard back from the doctor.”

Jungkook urges you to continue, “Yeah? What did they say? Is everything okay? Are you okay?”

“I’m…I’m great. I’m perfect. I’m—I, I can do it. We can do it. There’s a chart,” you explain, wedging your phone between your ear and your shoulder to free your hands so you can pull up the email you got and forward it to him. “It has an estimated schedule and recommendations on timing for the best results. I just sent everything over to you.”

“I got it. Wow. Okay. Wow. Oh my…wow! I need to call Jiyoon. Fuck. Oh my god. Okay, thank you! I’ll call you back later, okay?” The line disconnects after Jungkook says a hurried goodbye, the elation in his voice evident.

According to the doctor's ovulation chart, the best time for you to begin trying is next week. Conception is most likely during a twenty-four-hour period. On your way home, you stop and pick up an ovulation testing kit so you can remain on track.

You arrive home filled with nervous energy, unable to stop smiling as you unpack the things you picked up at the pharmacy. A large box of pregnancy tests goes beside the ovulation kit in your medicine cabinet, along with a pack of medical gloves and hand sanitizer. You’re not sure what you’ll need, exactly, but you figure it’s better to have it and not need it than the other way around.

“Jiyoon!” you gush, swiping to answer the call coming in on your phone. “Hi!”

“Hey, I just got off the phone with Jungkook.” There is a lot of background noise, and it’s hard to hear her clearly.

“Oh, wonderful! I got the results today. There is a possibility of next week being—”

A loud laugh cuts through from Jiyoon’s end, the added clang of dishes drowning you out further. “Sorry, I’m still at dinner. Next week, you say? I’ll be going on a business trip the whole of next week, Namjoon wants me to travel with a client for a go-see.”

Disappointment drags at your shoulders and has your smile softening into a frown. You suppose it can wait a few more weeks. “Okay, no problem. That will give us time to plan a bit more anyway.”

“Sure thing!” Jiyoon yells, the line cutting out momentarily. “I’ll catch you later. I can’t wait to see you when I get back. Thank you. I love you so much!”

“Okay, yeah, love you—” The line goes dead before you can finish. “Love you, too,” you murmur into the quiet of your apartment.

A minor setback. But it’s okay; you’re sure you were getting ahead of yourself anyway. Taking a few weeks to confirm things and actually come up with a game plan is probably for the better. But it doesn’t hurt to start doing that now. Letting the smile that hadn’t left your face most of the day slide back onto your lips, you continue setting up everything in your bathroom so it’ll be there for when you do need it.

It turns out you don’t have to wait—at least, according to Jungkook. From the constant flood of text messages you’ve gotten from him over the last few days, as much as Jiyoon would love to be there to help, she’s given her blessing to proceed with the ICI without her. In her own words, via a text you got last night, there will be plenty more for her to be present for, and she’s far too excited for you to wait for her to return.

Jiyoon has been relatively quiet, but Jungkook explained in delicate words that she’s okay; she just has a lot on her plate right now. Even though it may seem like she’s on the outside, it’s more that this is a very sensitive topic for Jiyoon. Despite wanting a child, ICI is nearly as taboo a subject as IVF when it comes to Jiyoon; you know this. She’s told you how much it makes her feel like a failure. So, you’re content when Jungkook takes full responsibility for the surrogacy journey and has promised to be there for you every step of the way, including coming over to your place tonight to help you with the first ICI attempt.

You’ve been testing your ovulation each morning, and the positive test strip in your bathroom trash has started a full-tilt, day-long extravaganza. It’s a Thursday, just a few days after you got your green light from the doctor, meaning you were able to leave work early and are now sitting on your couch waiting patiently for Jungkook to arrive.

All your research and reading about ICI makes you nervous about what’s to come. It’s not that you’re going to be explicitly intimate with Jungkook, but you’re well aware of the fact that fresh sperm samples, as in within a thirty-minute window, are the best. Which means, he’s going to have to somehow provide the sample while he’s here.

The idea of Jungkook masturbating in your bathroom should feel awkward or perhaps embarrassing to think about, yet you’re oddly comfortable with it. It’s a natural thing, something necessary to create something that’s going to be beautiful.

By the time Jungkook knocks on your door, your hands are clammy, and it takes you two tries to get the handle to turn. He greets you with a giant smile and shining eyes, absolutely breathtaking.

“Hi,” he breathes.

“Hi,” you parrot, unable to contain from reflecting the smile still on his face. “Please, come on in.”

“Thanks.” Jungkook steps past you, and the soft fragrance of his laundry detergent catches in your nose. “I brought everything we need,” he says, holding up a bag. He’s wearing the same denim jacket he was the other night, a white T-shirt underneath above a pair of worn, light-washed jeans, and black boots on his feet that he toes off before heading into your living room.

“Can I get you anything to drink or maybe something to eat? Have you had dinner yet?” You’re not sure how this is going to go, if it’s just going to be a clinical experience or something more comfortable between friends. Because you are friends, right? At this point, you should consider him more than just your best friend’s husband; he should at least be seen as a friend of yours, too.

Jungkook deposits the bag on your couch and turns to look at you. “Um, maybe if you had some beer or something, but I know you don’t drink—” There is a nervous energy to the way he’s talking, words coming out a little too quickly “—so, er, maybe just some water is fine.”

“Actually,” you say, hurrying into the kitchen and opening the fridge, “I got, well, is this okay?” You hold up a 6-pack of beer you bought on a whim a few nights ago. It’s true that you don’t really drink, but you weren’t thinking of yourself at the time that you bought it. In actuality, you were thinking of Jungkook, knowing he’s partial to this brand, and figured…well, you’re not sure what you figured, you bought it before you could give it too much thought.

The corner of Jungkook’s mouth lifts, his smile turning into a light smirk. “Wow, my favorite. I’d love to, but actually, I’m not sure if I should, no matter how nervous I am right now…not until after, at least. I haven’t read anything about how alcohol might impact things, but I’ve not had a drop of alcohol to drink nor a bite of junk food in the last week, just in case.”

“Oh, right. Of course, I should have thought about that.”

“No, it’s okay. I wasn’t thinking either, I haven’t been able to think about much at all, if I’m being honest,” Jungkook laughs nervously, one of his hands rubbing at the back of his neck. “Is this weird? Are you sure you want to do this?”

It is weird, but not in a bad way, and you don’t want to admit that because you don’t want him to worry. So, you simply smile and shake your head. “It’s not all that weird, it’s…well, just not weird. I am nervous,” you decide to give him at least that. “I’m worried that it might not work, or that I might do something wrong.”

“W-what do you think you might do wrong?” Jungkook asks, moving closer to you. “I’ve…I’ve read a lot about the how, I even got an informational video from my doctor.”

You can feel heat crawling up your neck. “I’m not sure, exactly. I guess just the whole process in general.”

There is a beat where you can see Jungkook contemplating his words. He chews on his bottom lip, eyes unfocused for a moment before returning to you. “I could help if you want. Purely in a platonic, helpful way, no funny business, I swear.”

“Um, I don’t know if that…uh, I can try first, maybe?” You can’t seem to swallow past the thick knot in your throat at the thought of asking Jungkook to help assist you in…well, that.

“Sure, okay. Should we…get started?” Jungkook asks, his eyes flicking back to the bag he dropped on your couch. 

Your stomach flips at his words. “Yeah,” you say, voice barely above a whisper, feeling suddenly even more shy than usual.

“Great.” Jungkook claps his hands together before retrieving the bag from the couch. “I have everything we need. It's probably best if we begin this in the bathroom.”

Your apartment has one bathroom, which is joined to the bedroom but is still accessible through the hallway. Jungkook leads the way down the hall, flicking on the light inside the bathroom before stepping aside to let you in as well.

“Have you talked with Jiyoon?” you ask, seeking something to fill the silence as you watch him unpack everything from the bag and arrange it on the bathroom counter.

Jungkook shakes his head in a so-so manner. “I spoke with her for a few minutes earlier to let her know the plan for tonight. She couldn’t talk long and it was hard to hear with all the background noise, but she’s excited and said she can’t wait to be back at the end of the week.”

After washing his hands, Jungkook opens up the packet of a large sterile pad and spreads it out across the rest of the counter. From the research you’ve done, you recognize some of the things he begins to set out. There is a collection cup with an orange screw-on lid, a large syringe with a hose attaching it to a bulbous silicone mushroom-shaped plug, and several single-use packets of water-based lube. He also sets out a box of pregnancy tests, giving you a sheepish smile when you raise an eyebrow at it.

“I, uh, bought some, too,” you say, opening the medicine cabinet to show him the large box of pregnancy tests sitting between your ovulation test kit and your toothbrush.

Jungkook smiles. “I guess we’re on the same wavelength, huh?”

You have to stop yourself from leaning too far into the unusual, yet enticingly warm and appealing, feeling you get when he smiles like that. Clearing your throat, you gesture to the spread of tools. “What now?”

“I think we should discuss a game plan, make sure we know what to do and when to do it. There are some things I’ve read online, plus the directions in this pamphlet,” he says, slipping a folded paper from the box the inseminator came in.

Leaning in, you try to read the step-by-step process written on the paper over Jungkook’s shoulder. He shifts, steps closer to you, and angles the pamphlet to make it easier for you to see.

“Step one, collect the sample. Step two, transfer the sample into the syringe. Step three, insert the silicone plug into the…v-vagina,” you choke over the word, feeling heat licking up your neck, “as close to the cervix as possible. Step four, depress the plunger to administer the sample.”

“Seems pretty simple, right?”

You’re not sure you’d say simple. Sure, step by step, it looks pretty straightforward, but you seem to be responsible for the most challenging part, and that makes you even more nervous than before. “Yeah, simple.”

“Give me a few minutes, I need to—uh,” he points to the sample cup. “I’ll, you know.”

“Oh, right, right, of course. I’ll just—" you hook a thumb over your shoulder towards the door that leads to your bedroom ”—wait in there.”

It’s hard not to pace around your bedroom as you wait. You try to stick to the far side of your bedroom, not wanting to come too close to the bathroom and overhear anything you shouldn’t. The fact your best friend’s husband is in your bathroom masturbating is a weird enough revelation, albeit a necessary one for the ICI procedure; you’d still rather afford him some privacy.

After three minutes, you stop counting the seconds that pass, realizing that means you’re counting how long it takes for Jungkook to produce the sample. Which is something you’re vehemently trying to avoid thinking about so casually.

The bathroom door opening startles you, stopping you in your tracks. Jungkook clears his throat. “Ready?”

You move over to the bathroom. “I think so.”

“Hey, it’s going to be okay. You can do this and don’t forget, I’ll be here if you need any help, promise. Purely for help, for the process.” Jungkook swipes a finger in an x over his chest. “Cross my heart.”

“You’re right,” you say, trying to bolster your own confidence. “I can do this.”

You step past Jungkook and into the bathroom, but his hand on your arm pulls you up short. “Wait, wait. Would you feel more comfortable doing it in your room? It’s just that I’ve read it’s best if you could lay on your back with your hips elevated for fifteen to thirty minutes after.” He nods at your bed. “More comfortable than the bathroom floor.”

The idea of doing this on your bed crosses a line, taking this from a medical process to something far more intimate. “Maybe just a pillow,” you say, grabbing one of the decorative throw pillows you never seem to remember to put back on your bed but keep in a small pile on the floor instead.

“Okay.” Jungkook gives you a small smile, and it makes his eyes look soft and bright. The kind of smile you hope you can help him bestow onto a baby.

You leave the door unlocked, just in case you need his help. In your bathroom, there is no evidence of Jungkook's actions other than the very full sample cup sitting on the medical pad covering the counter.

The cup is warm to the touch, which is startling, though you know it shouldn’t be. Placing the pillow down on the floor, you shimmy your pants and panties down your legs and step out of them. There is a lingering scent in the bathroom; it’s a mix of Jungkook’s cologne but also of something clinical. You realize there are two empty packets of lube in your trashcan, and you can’t help the image that pieces itself together in your mind.

Swallowing hard against the threatening flood of further indecent thoughts, you move quickly to prepare the inseminator. It’s a systematic process you can do with little thought—safe—unscrewing the cap of the cup and filling the syringe. Once you’re in position on the floor, hips elevated on the pillow, empty packets of lube discarded and your body primed, you take the silicone plug in one hand and the syringe in the other.

The directions make it seem so easy. But as you try to fit the silicone plug inside, you can’t seem to get it to go where you want it. It keeps slipping sideways and tugging at the tube connecting it to the syringe. Your heart begins to race as you realize you might not be able to do this—not on your own, at least.

By the fourth try, fifteen minutes have passed, and you’re in full-blown panic mode. Your breath wheezes in and out as you crunch up, hands fumbling between your thighs, and sweat forming on your brow. “Oh god, oh god. I—uh, god dammit…Jungkook!” His name is out of your mouth in a strangled yell before you can stop it.

“What is it? Is everything okay? Are you okay?” The frantic words are muffled through the door. The door rattles on its hinges, and you can tell he’s pressing up against it from the sound of denim scuffing along it, probably pressing his ear against it in an effort to hear your response.

You’ve managed to get it inside, but you’re not sure if you can get it all the way in, pressed up against your cervix where it needs to be. It’s possible you used too much lube, though the idea that it’s possible to have too much lubricant seems ridiculous. But no matter what you do or how far you press your fingers in, you’re either at a wrong angle, or your fingers keep slipping on the plug too much. Asking Jungkook for help is the last thing you want to do, but you’re not sure what other options there are.

“C-can you come in here?” you ask in a hoarse voice. There is a moment of silence before the door eases open and Jungkook sticks his head inside. His eyes are closed so tight it makes you let out a snap of nervous laughter. “I think…I think I need help. I’m sorry, I just can’t—it’s not going in all the way, I don’t think,” you gush in explanation.

“Do you—is it okay if I?” Jungkook asks, leaving the obvious unsaid.

“Um, yes…please. I’ve tried, and I just…I don’t want to ruin this. I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Jungkook shuffles into the bathroom, eyes still firmly closed and arms out in the air. “Um, where exactly are you so I don’t step on you by accident?”

Snagging the edge of the towel hanging on the rack, you pull it down and drape it over your knees to make yourself as decent as you can be in this situation. “Just open your eyes, it’s okay.”

Slowly, his eyes peek open and finally land on where you’re laid out on the floor, bent knees covered in a towel and your shirt askew from all your efforts.

“How can I help?” Jungkook kneels down beside you, shrugging out of his jacket and tossing it to the side.

“I just…I don’t know if it’s all the way in. Can you—with your hand, I know that’s horrible and weird, but I don’t know what else to—”

“No, no, it’s not weird. I said I’d help. It’s clinical, right? We’re doing this just as a medical procedure. Like I said, no funny business, I swear. It’s for the baby. I’ll help you.”

“Okay.” You nod, squeezing your eyes shut because it’s hard to look him in the eye when he’s about to—the towel shifts, and cool air licking between your thighs has your mind going blank.

“Look at me,” Jungkook requests, to which you immediately comply. “I need you to promise me you’ll let me know if I hurt you or do something you don’t like. I’ll stop immediately, okay?” When you don’t immediately say anything, he adds, “I need you to tell me you understand.”

“I understand.”

Stretching across to the sink, Jungkook keeps his eyes on yours as he washes his hands and then shifts the towel more, folding it up and over your knees. “I’m going to place my hand on your thigh. Is that okay?”

“Yes.”

His fingers are gentle against your skin, softer than you expected, and warm from the water. You can feel errant droplets of water streak down your thigh and roll over the bottom of your ass. You try to focus on that feeling instead of the way Jungkook’s hand trails down your thigh until his fingers graze your outer lips.

“I’m going to use two of my fingers to try and seat the inseminator. Is that okay?”

“Yes,” this time, it comes out as more a breath than a word.

You tense at the subtle press of his fingers and how they probe their way down until they find your entrance. There is easily enough lube down there to grease a bakery’s worth of cake pans, considering the half a dozen empty packets now in your trashcan, but you can’t help but take a deep, fortifying breath as he begins to press in.

“Still okay?” he asks, fingers moving achingly slow.

“I think so.”

Jungkook’s brow pinches. “I feel it…only about two inches in. I’m going to push it further now. Tell me if it hurts or is uncomfortable.”

Never in a million years did you think you’d ever find yourself in this position. Not only are you butterflied open on your bathroom floor, but your best friend’s husband is now middle-knuckle deep in your vagina, and you’re not sure how to feel about it. In fact, you’re trying to do everything you can to not think about how you stretch around the intrusion of his fingers, or that it feels far better than it should.

“Do you think you can get it all the way?” you ask, voice warbling with nerves.

Jungkook hums, his lips pushing out as if he is trying to concentrate. “I think I’m almost there. Does that feel okay, is it good?” 

Not once does he look away from you as he’s pushing deeper into your body. You think you want him to look away, to break that intimate contact, but you can’t even bring yourself to do that—even though you know you should. And the whispered exchange does little to help. Is it good? You’re going to burn in hell for the thoughts now flooding through.

“Oh!” You jolt in place, eyes going wide, all previous thoughts gathering into one singular point. Jungkook mirrors your surprise, his mouth popping open in silent shock.

“I’m so sorry!” he babbles. “I didn’t mean to do that. Oh fuck, god damn, shit…okay, sorry, let me just—” Jungkook is still gentle, yet swift in finishing seating the inseminator before quickly extracting his fingers from your body. “Please believe me when I say I am sorry, and I swear I wasn’t trying…I wasn’t trying to do that.”

Your body is still buzzing from the that he’s talking about—the graze of his thumb over your clit. It’s clear it was an accident by his reaction, but it does nothing to lessen the pulse that is now singing through your body.

“I-it’s okay. Really, it’s okay. It’s fine.” You’re not sure if your words are convincing enough, but Jungkook jerks his head in what you assume is a nod of acknowledgement.

“Um, it’s, uh, it’s in. Do you need me to do the syringe, too?”

“Just do it.” You exhale a shaky breath, finally tearing your eyes away from his. You’re confident he’s still watching you, even as he depresses the syringe and injects his cum into your body—as crass as that sounds in your head, that’s exactly what’s happening, and it’s the first time you think you’re realizing how truly fucked you are for this.

Nothing has happened between you and Jungkook, not in that way, but for some reason, guilt won’t leave you alone. You feel like you’ve just betrayed Jiyoon and feel even more like a ridiculous schoolgirl ruining her life over a crush on a boy. You’re intimately aware of the warmth and the subtle change in pressure as he finishes depressing the inseminator. It makes you want to squirm, but you chew your bottom lip and tap your toes instead.

“Are you okay?” Jungkook asks, his voice soft and gentle.

“I should be asking you that,” you sigh.

Jungkook balks. “What? Why would you say that? I’m fine…I’m the one that—” He nods toward where your body is now covered with the towel again. As soon as he was done plunging the depressor, he unfolded the towel and made you decent once more.

“You didn’t mean to,” you say, maybe more as a reminder to yourself than him.

“No, but that doesn’t make it okay.” Jungkook settles back on his heels, using one of the wet wipes that came in the kit to clean his hands. Suddenly, he laughs. “This is ridiculous, right? I mean, look at us, we just did something…beautiful, and we’re not allowing ourselves to enjoy it.”

You chuckle softly, fidgeting with one of the ends of the towel. “It is kind of ridiculous, huh? Sorry that I freaked out and you had to do…that.”

”I’m not. Sorry, that is. I’m glad you asked for my help. We’re in this together.” Jungkook gives you a smile, similar to the one he wore when he knocked on your door over an hour ago, and takes up the hand not pinching at the towel in his, squeezing it. “I don’t know that I can even begin to articulate with words just what this means to me. Thank you so much.”

“It means a lot to me, as well. Being able to do this for you and Jiyoon is not something you need to thank me for. I’d do anything for her. She’s my best friend. We’ve been through so much together over the last twenty years…I just want to see her happy. You, too, of course.”

Jungkook hums in the back of his throat, keeping his hand wrapped around yours as he leans back, using the side of the tub for support. A comfortable silence settles between the two of you, spanning several minutes until Jungkook speaks again. “Have you ever thought about being a mom, you know, before this?”

It’s on the tip of your tongue to answer with what you think he wants to hear, that this has always been your wish, but instead, you choose to give him an honest answer. “Not really.”

”Why not? If you don’t mind me asking.”

If it were anyone else asking, you might mind, but…

You purse your lips before offering yet another truth. “I guess I just…I’m me, you know?”

”No, I don’t think I do know. What do you mean?”

“I’m a single woman in my thirties with no prospects on the horizon. My last boyfriend was over five years ago. I’m a modern-day spinster. Nothing is wrong with that, I love who I am…I just, no one has ever shown interest in me like that. Though it’s not necessary to have another person in the picture, it’s just that…I don’t even know, I’m rambling, sorry.”

Jungkook looks at you for a long moment, and it’s so hard to read his expression. All you want to do is plead with him to tell you what’s on his mind.

“You shouldn’t do that to yourself,” he finally says.

”Do what?” you ask, uncertain what he’s referring to.

“Sell yourself short like that. You are easily one of the hardest-working people I’ve ever met. You have a successful career and amazing tastes in art and food. Not to mention, you have the biggest heart of anyone I know. You’re…you’re amazing, and I know for a fact that people think so, too.” 

You puff out a breath, trying not to laugh at him. “How could you possibly know that?”

“Because I’m one of them. I wouldn’t choose just anyone to do this with. After all, the baby will be half of you, too. A win-win in my book.” The corner of his mouth tilts in a small smile.

You’re pretty certain you’ve never had something create such a viscerally emotional response in you. It takes everything you have to blink away the sudden onslaught of tears that threaten to overwhelm you.

When you finally think you can speak without melting into a blubbering mess, you whisper, “I think you’re pretty amazing, too.”

💔💔💔

Jungkook

It’s well after midnight by the time Jungkook makes it home. He’s positively buzzing and can’t even think about going to bed just yet. There is far too much going on in his head, so he decides to expend some energy in the tiny home gym he turned one of the spare rooms into.

The condo he and Jiyoon bought two years into their marriage is spacious, spanning half the second and third floors of the building. There is a three-car garage on the first floor, as well as an elevator that leads to the landing out front. Across the landing is where Taehyung lives with his roommate Jimin, another well-to-do model they met through Kim Exclusives.

Jiyoon stuck her nose up at the fact that Taehyung was buying the unit across from them when Jungkook first told her, but so far, it hasn’t caused too many problems over the years. It helps at times like this, when Jiyoon is traveling for work, to have a friend so close by. Usually, Jungkook would knock next door when he can’t get his head cleared, but for some reason, Jungkook doesn’t want to tell Taehyung about what happened at your place. He doesn’t want to tell anyone, for that matter, holding onto it as a private thing for as long as possible.

Losing himself in sets of squats and curls is far safer than describing in maddening detail the way your soft, lush—Jungkook slams his hand against the squat rack and forces his thoughts away from that line of thinking.

Just because you’re a gorgeous woman with a nice body doesn’t give him the right to think about you like that. Especially considering he’s married to your best friend, whom he loves more than anything. Besides, he’s better than that, knows the whole alpha male hindbrain is the stuff of fantasy. There is no excuse for him having such sordid and outlandish thoughts about you like that. It was simply doing what needed to be done to help—for the baby.

With that in his mind instead, he moves through the motions of his workout. By the time he’s dripping sweat and his muscles are trembling with fatigue, the sun is starting to peek through the windows, and he hasn’t thought about you in hours—well, not much, at least. And when he does, he says it's just because he's thinking of what might be passed down to your baby—er—his and Jiyoon's baby—he reminds himself.

It’s been an excruciating three weeks waiting and waiting to hear from you about something other than work. After Jiyoon returned home from her business trip, Jungkook told her about that night, including the accidental slip-up. At first, she was upset, accusing him of taking advantage of her best friend. It took hours of strained conversation to get her to understand that it was more of a clinical procedure than Jungkook fingering you.

When that accusation was first thrown out, Jungkook was at a loss for words and completely thrown off the tracks. Jiyoon apologized, saying she didn’t understand how he didn’t think she’d be upset about it but that she’d forgive him for it anyway. She then gathered Jungkook into her arms, and they cuddled in bed for the first time in what felt like forever.

Jungkook wasn’t sure if Jiyoon would confront you at work over it, but as the days continued on without a peep from you, he figured things were okay between the two of you. There were times when Jungkook wished something had gone down with you and Jiyoon because then, at least, he’d have an excuse to talk to you in a way that didn’t make him look like he only cared about you now that you were possibly pregnant or with something work-related.

He knows these things take time, and there is only so much he can do. So, he’s been pouring himself into work and filling his schedule with as many activities as possible to keep his mind off of waiting.

“Jungkook, let’s go.” Taehyung raps his knuckles on Jungkook’s shoulder, grabbing his attention. “Head out of the clouds, daddy-o, we’re needed in hair and makeup.”

Sighing, Jungkook hauls himself off the couch in the studio waiting room and follows Taehyung into the space where the makeup and hair artists are set up. He arrived at the studio early this morning and had spent the last hour spilling his guts to Taehyung, something he promised himself he wouldn’t do but couldn’t keep it contained any longer.

“Don’t call me that,” Jungkook grumbles.

Taehyung smirks. “What? Is that not what you’re hoping to be called? Don’t tell me you and Jiyoon are into daddy roleplay. That might make it a little weird to have your kid also call you daddy—ow!”

Rubbing the back of his head where Jungkook smacked him, Taehyung harrumphs before sidestepping the line of chairs and taking a seat in the one farthest from Jungkook.

“Fuck off, Taehyung. After everything I just told you, that’s all you have to say?”

Taehyung throws up his hands, and the hairdresser at his station begins to comb through his black tresses. “The way it seems to me, you’re the only one making a big deal about this. If you want to check on her, I’m sure she won’t think it’s only because she’s your possible surrogate and not because you’re friends after this. And sure, you stuck your fingers into your wife’s best friend’s vagina, but so what? It was what you needed to do. If I really needed you to touch my dick in order to complete an important procedure, I hope you’d do it with a smile on your face.”

Jungkook opens his mouth to protest but closes it when he realizes he can’t really argue against that. Taehyung is right. He did what he had to do. Hell, he knows that, he used those words himself when explaining it to Jiyoon. There’s just this feeling he can’t shake, he’s far too nervous and on edge right now. If only you’d reach out, put him out of his misery with an update.

“I hate it when you’re right. I’ll stop being such a—”

“Hi, guys.”

“Excuse me, ma’am, only staff and models are allowed back here.”

“Whoa, hey, wait. She’s our manager, and she can be here.” Jungkook is quick to spout, not caring if there is desperation evident in his voice. Once his eyes landed on you, it was all he could do not to jump up from the makeup chair, cross the room, and drop to his knees and beg for an update.

The directing assistant who stepped in your path gives you a once-over that makes Jungkook grind his teeth, but he just sighs and steps to the side. “Okay, but you’re both needed on set in fifteen,” he says, directing the last part toward Jungkook and Taehyung.

“It’s okay, I won’t be long. I just…” You hold up a thin manilla envelope and give it a shake. “Jiyoon is out of the office for the day, she said I should let you see first and that you could tell her later tonight at home. So, here I am. I thought we could look together.”

The makeup artist dabbing a sponge on Jungkook’s jaw lifts an eyebrow when he jerks forward in the chair, intent on scrambling across the room despite being in the middle of blending.

“Two minutes,” she says, stepping back from Jungkook and turning to the makeup collection on her table.

“Okay!” Jungkook springs from the chair and rushes over to you, having no regard for the way his hair flops out of place on his forehead. “Hi,” he says when he’s standing in front of you. “I didn’t realize you had an appointment today.”

“I didn’t,” you tell him. “I just wasn’t feeling all that well this morning, so…well, I just wanted to ensure everything was okay. They had to do a pregnancy test, it was routine.” You offer the folder to him. “Want to do the honors?”

Jungkook’s fingers are trembling as he takes the folder from you. It takes him three tries to get the flap open and to extract the slip of paper inside. You give him an encouraging smile as he looks to you for reassurance before letting his eyes sweep over the report.

“It’s…we’re…you’re…holy fuck. You’re pregnant. You’re pregnant! YOU’RE PREGNANT!” Jungkook shouts before breaking out into a bout of ecstatic laughter. “Fucking hell, oh my god, you’re pregnant! I’m going to be a father. Me. A father. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Yes!”

You join in his laughter, the sound pleasant and musical, as he throws his arms around you and spins you in a circle. There are shining tears in your eyes when he sets you down again, happiness clear on your face. “I’m pregnant,” you whisper, the words reverent and full of awe.

There have never been more beautiful words. Jungkook can’t help but say them again. “We’re pregnant.”

It’s hard to say if what Jungkook is feeling right now is considered a healthy response to what his wife, Jiyoon, just told him. But, the erratic beat of his heart paired with the incessant ringing in his ears doesn’t necessarily feel bad, just like he’s having some sort of out-of-body experience.

“Say that again,” he requests, softly smacking his lips, trying to work moisture back into his mouth.

Jiyoon sighs, shuffling the papers on her lap. “I’m pregnant,” she repeats the same words you said just two weeks ago.

“You’re certain?” Jungkook wants to believe he heard her correctly but can’t help asking for clarity again.

“I am.” Jiyoon smiles at Jungkook, her eyes watery. “It’s right here, look.”

Jungkook hesitantly takes the top sheet of paper from Jiyoon, letting his eyes devour the words and numbers on it. It’s all there, everything he needs to see and know for the truth—hCG levels far, far above average, an inked red circle around it along with a doctor’s barely legible scrawl of ‘pregnant’ beside that.

“How far along? It’s been—” Jungkook pauses to try to do the math in his head; it’s been weeks since they were last intimate—the night they agreed to do ICI. 

“About eight weeks,” Jiyoon offers. “I suspected a few weeks ago, you know, when I was a little sick that weekend—the one when we found out about, well, I didn’t want to get my hopes up or disappoint you if it wasn’t true, especially after such good news…so I scheduled an appointment. I had to be sure, had to be certain.”

“You’re pregnant.” The words feel thick on Jungkook’s tongue, like he’s trying to talk through a mouthful of peanut butter; sweet, decadent peanut butter.

“I am,” she whispers, the confirmation turning into a squeal of laughter as Jungkook sweeps her into his arms and shouts his own happiness.

Peppering kisses all over Jiyoon’s face, Jungkook hops around, alternating between shouting how much he loves her and how he can’t believe his luck. “I’m going to be a father. Twice! What did I do to deserve this?! I love you so much. Fuck!”

“Calm down,” Jiyoon giggles. “Put me down before you make me hurl.”

“Oh, yeah, sorry.” Jungkook pants, setting Jiyoon back down on her feet. “I’m just so excited!” He wiggles his hips and shimmies his shoulders. “We’ll need to order a second crib. Should we have the babies share a room at first? That seems the easier option, right? I bet there is a book on that somewhere, I need to go—”

“Hey, calm, right?” Jiyoon’s smile is warm, soft. “We have time. There is no need to rush. Can we just enjoy this for a little while longer?” she asks, grabbing one of his hands and placing it over her belly.

“Yes. Yes, yes, yes.” Pressing his forehead to hers, Jungkook wraps his other arms around Jiyoon and sighs contentedly. “I love you so much, babe.”

“I love you, too, Jungkook.”

💔💔💔

Jiyoon seems nervous, pushing around the chopped salad on her plate as she chews her bottom lip. She hasn’t met your eyes the entire time you’ve been at lunch. You want to ask her what’s wrong, but you’ve been friends with her long enough to know that she’ll come to you with it when she wants, and pushing won’t do you any good.

“So,” she draws the word out, lips forming an exaggerated pucker.

“Yes?”

“How are you feeling?” You can tell that’s not what she wants to say or ask, but you indulge her anyway, hoping you’ll get to the actual matter of why she insisted on going to lunch with you today.

You shift in your seat, setting your fork down on your half-empty plate. “I feel good. I just have some nausea in the mornings sometimes, but it’s not too bad.”

Finally, Jiyoon’s eyes come up to meet yours. “I know what you mean,” she says, the words slow and enunciated—pointed. Her free hand flutters over her belly as if for emphasis.

“What?” The word is more breath than question. “You are?”

“I am,” Jiyoon confirms, tears shining in her eyes.

“Oh, my goodness! Jiyoon! What? But how? Oh my goodness! That’s wonderful!” You can’t contain your excitement for your friend, throwing yourself across the tabletop to hug her fiercely.

She’s laughing as you sit back down, clearly buzzing with her own excitement. “We just found out. It seems a miracle was in our cards after all. It’s still early, nine weeks or so now.” That would make it just two weeks, give or take, before you and Jungkook did the ICI.

“Wow,” you breathe, your own hand landing on your stomach. “They might as well be twins. It’ll be so cool—what?” Jiyoon’s frown stilts your excitement. “What is it?”

She casts her eyes away from yours again, pulling her full bottom lip between her teeth before letting it pop back out. “I don’t know. I just thought…it’s not too late if you wanted to—I just know it’s a lot on someone, your body, the pain and everything that comes after. And now that I’m pregnant, it’s just, we don’t expect you to continue…if you don’t want. We’d be completely understanding and fully supportive if you—”

“Termination? Is that…what you’re talking about? And Jungkook agrees?”

Her nose wrinkles. “I don’t like that word. I’m just saying that we will support your decision to do that if you’d like. It was never in the plans to have more than one child, and now it would be two newborns at the same time…that’s a lot, you know? Twice as many diapers, bottles, and sleepless nights. It would be hard to say goodbye, but we’d still love you and not think less of you for it.”

Your mouth feels too dry for you to form words. You know what she’s saying. Though there isn’t a single ounce of you that desires that, you also understand the hesitation Jiyoon is expressing. She’s right. There wasn’t a plan for two babies. So, what now? Do you volunteer to help? Do you seek out the advice of a lawyer to know where your parental rights might sit in the case they decide they don’t want the baby in the end? So many thoughts swirl through your mind that it makes you dizzy.

“Can I think about it?” you ask, feeling for the first time a wave of uncertainty.

Jiyoon gives you what you assume is supposed to be an assuring smile. “Of course. And if you decide not to, I’m sure we can come up with some sort of system. We’ll figure it out.”

She seems so sure that no matter your decision, it’ll all be okay. “Really?”

“Absolutely. I want—we want, these babies, even if we didn’t plan for two. I was just letting you know that there is that option if you want it.”

“I-I don’t think I do, but if that changes…I’ll let you know.”

“That’s all I ask! Now, tell me, what do you think it’ll be?” she asks, patting her flat stomach again. “A boy or a girl? I’m leaning more towards a boy…”

💔💔💔

Jungkook

Jungkook still can’t believe his life. Two babies—two extraordinary miracles, it’s surreal—perfect. His calendar has never been more full. There’s the regular schedule of photo shoots, meetings, and other client work but now those are penned in between the baby classes he’s signed up for and various doctor’s appointments.

One of which is scheduled this afternoon, just a few hours after another this morning. There is your ten-week and then Jiyoon’s three-month appointment. Things have been going great with the pregnancies being so close together, but it does sometimes make appointments and times overlap. Which is how Jungkook finds himself sprinting across the parking lot of Jiyoon’s doctor’s office. He’s late—really late. He didn’t mean to arrive so late. It’s just that your appointment ran a little longer than expected, and traffic wasn’t exactly on his side, either.

Just as Jungkook puts his hand on the handle to open the door to the doctor’s office, it swings outward, nearly smacking him in the face. Jiyoon glares at him, a peeved sigh escaping her.

“You missed it.”

“What? No. I still have—” he glances down at his watch. “The appointment should have lasted at least forty-five minutes, and it’s only been thirty.”

Jiyoon rolls her eyes. “They were able to get me in a few minutes early.” She pushes past him and starts towards her car. “Everything is fine, by the way. The baby is measuring small but is still healthy. Thanks for asking,” she snarks, holding up a length of printed film.

Jungkook grabs the strip from her hand, jogging to keep up with her angry strides. “Wow,” he whispers, looking down at the 2D images. “She’s beautiful, so tiny.”

“She? It could be a boy.”

“Is that what you hope it is?” Jungkook asks, skipping ahead of Jiyoon before turning and walking backwards in front of her. His eyes barely leave the black-and-white grainy images. He traces over the faintly-there contours of the face, the delicate nose and forehead.

Clicking the unlock button on her keyfob, Jiyoon sighs again. “I just want it to be healthy. I don’t care what gender it is.”

“You don’t care?” Jungkook purses his lips, finally looking up at his wife. She’s wearing a designer pantsuit, the deep navy complementing her porcelain complexion and making the red lip she has on pop beautifully. Pregnancy looks good on her. He opens his mouth to tell her so when she cuts him off.

“Don’t say it like that. Of course, I care. Good god, Jungkook, why do you have to make me feel like shit all the time? First you missed my appointment, because why? Because you were busy playing daddy to someone else. And now, here you are, accusing me of being a terrible mother before it’s even born. Fuck you. Fuck you, Jungkook.”

Jungkook is so confused. “What? I didn’t—playing daddy? What are you talking about? I already said I was sorry for missing the appointment, you know the times were really close. It was her ten-week appointment. They were measuring her nuchal translucency, you remember how important that is!”

“Whatever,” Jiyoon deadpans, pushing around Jungkook and climbing into her car. “I have a meeting tonight, don’t wait up for me.”

Before Jungkook can respond, the door slams shut, Jiyoon turns over the engine, and takes off. Maybe not everything is perfect, he laments to himself, mulling over his earlier thoughts. With a determined expression on his face, Jungkook makes his way to his own car and promises to do his best to make this right, vowing not to let something like this happen again.

Of course, it’s only some weeks later that Jungkook has to break this vow. It’s not his fault, it’s no ones. It seems that life just wants to test him, perhaps make sure he’s honing his time management skills for when the babies come.

Everything has been going great since his hiccup with missing Jiyoon’s twelve-week appointment. He’s been able to shuffle around his schedule and work with the both of you to ensure appointments don’t overlap or are too close together.

Jiyoon has become reliant on him, which is something Jungkook revels in. It’s like their marriage is finally back to the way it once was, full of nights cuddled in bed and romantic dinners—sans the wine. While you’ve been fiercely independent, yet charmingly sweet when it comes to Jungkook and Jiyoon and sharing the pregnancy experience with them.

There have been a few discussions about the fact that now there are going to be two babies instead of one. Jungkook has spent nearly all of his free time turning the guest bedroom into a nursery fit for two. His home gym has become a catch-all, most of the equipment being confined into a corner to make room for the furniture that came out of the guest room-now-nursery.

It’s been a lot, but it’s something Jungkook would never trade for anything in all the world. He’s positively jubilant over the prospect of being a father. It’s something he’s dreamed about for as long as he can remember. Now, it’s just a few months away, a permanent light in his life.

“J-jungkook?” your trembling voice sounds through his phone when he swipes to answer the call, tossing the paint roller into the bucket. Butter yellow coats the walls of the nursery and dots the hem of his old t-shirt.

“Hey, is everything okay?”

“I think so. I don’t know. I slipped on the stairs, I’m at the ER right now—”

“I’m on my way!”

“Jungkook, no. It’s okay. I know you have things going on today. I just thought I should tell you. Jiyoon was in a meeting, so Namjoon said he’d pass her a memo when she was done.”

He’s supposed to attend a First-Time Fathers class in an hour, and Jiyoon has her twenty-two-week anatomy scan this afternoon. The class can wait. If he’s lucky, he can go to the ER, check on you, and then make it to Jiyoon’s appointment.

“No, no, you’re not sitting in the ER by yourself. I’ll text Jiyoon and let her know that I’m leaving now to come check on you.”

“O-okay.”

The line disconnects, and Jungkook slaps the lid on the paint bucket and throws a plastic sheet over the paint tray. If it dries out, then it dries out. Paint can be replaced; your health is far more crucial right now.

Walking into the entryway, he thumbs open his messages and types out a quick text to Jiyoon before tossing his phone on the small bench by the door so he can pull on his shoes.

It’s a twenty-minute drive to the hospital, and it takes another ten minutes of searching to find you sitting in a waiting room with a large ice pack resting on your right foot.

“Hey, are you okay? Have you been seen yet? How long have you been here? What happened?”

You hold up a hand to ward off more of his word vomit, an embarrassed smile soft on your face. “Slow down, have a seat. I’m okay. They said I should be called back soon.”

Instead of sitting, Jungkook kneels on the floor in front of you. His fingers the ice pack, his face falling even further. “What happened?”

“I slipped in the stairwell at work, missed the last step and came down hard on the side of my foot.”

“Can I?” he asks, fingers moving to the corner of the ice pack.

You nod. “Yeah.”

Lifting it gently, Jungkook takes in the sight of your foot. The black ballet flats you’re wearing give him a clear view of the swelling that’s already beginning along the top and side of your foot.

“Do you want me to find a wheelchair?”

Before you can answer Jungkook a nurse comes through one of the doors, pushing a wheelchair. She wheels it over to you and says, “Ready?”

“Yeah.”

Jungkook slips his arm under yours as you stand before slowly helping you lower into the wheelchair. “Would you like to push her back?” the nurse asks Jungkook.

“I can come?” he wonders, hopeful.

“Of course. Unless you’d rather wait out here, and I can call for you when your wife is done.”

“Oh, she’s not—”

“I’d like for you to come if that’s okay? I don’t really want to be alone,” you interject before Jungkook can correct the nurse. She gives Jungkook a polite nod and gestures towards the door she came through.

“Please come right this way. We’ll need to get a quick weight and a urine sample before I can get you into your room, where the doctor will see you shortly.”

Jungkook aids you the best he can, helping you to and from the wheelchair as he can. He almost asks if you want him to come into the restroom with you, but you give him a quick shake of your head before closing the door on him.

What feels like an eternity later, you’re finally settled on a bed with Jungkook sitting in the chair beside it.

“Thank you for being here,” you say quietly, drawing Jungkook’s attention. “I know I said I wanted you to come back with me, and it’s not that I want you to leave, but please don’t feel obligated to stay. I know you have a lot of other things going on.”

Shifting his chair closer, Jungkook reaches for one of your hands. “Nonsense. I’m glad you called. I feel bad that I haven’t been to as many doctor’s appointments with you. I feel like it’s been a couple of weeks since I’ve even seen you. I wish our schedules worked out a little better. Perhaps, as my manager, there’s something you can do about that?” he asks, giving you a jesting wink.

“I was trying to give you more time to go to Jiyoon’s appointments!” you laugh, covering your mouth with your hand.

“I know, but in case you forgot, you’re also carrying my child. Don’t get me wrong, though, the texts are great, and I really appreciate the weekly baby bump pictures, but it’d be nice to actually see you. Though, maybe next time, let’s make it not where you’re laid up in a hospital bed, not yet, at least,” he adds on with a low laugh.

This is the first time Jungkook has seen your bump in person. The soft swell under your shirt calls to him, and he wonders if it would be okay to touch it. As if you’re reading his mind, you take the hand that’s wrapped around yours and press it gently over your stomach.

“Kinda weird, huh?”

“No. No, not weird at all,” Jungkook says, being completely raw and honest with you. Jiyoon is touchy about her belly, pun wholly not intended, seeing as she doesn’t let him touch her bump nearly as much as he’d like to. She’s only recently started to show, and it’s hitting her hard, with which Jungkook tries to empathize. He can’t imagine being pregnant and how much a body changes; he’d probably feel things like that, too.

He spends a moment absorbing the feel, trying to imagine the little life growing just a few inches below his hand. Life he helped create. He’s so in awe he could cry…if it wasn’t for the door opening and breaking the momentary spell over him.

“Hello, I’m Dr. Lee. I’ll be your attending today. I hear you slipped down the stairs today and are worried your foot might be broken?” The cheery, middle-aged woman chatters away, washing her hands and drying them off before offering one to you and then to Jungkook.

“Yeah. I missed the last step and landed on the side of my foot pretty hard.” You shake your head with a rueful smile. “I should have just waited for the elevator.”

“Oh, ouch. Let’s take a look,” Dr. Lee coos. “May I?” She gestures to the blanket covering your feet. Jungkook helped you remove your shoes once you were in bed and tossed the blanket over your feet so they wouldn’t get cold.

“Of course.”

Dr. Lee pulls back the blanket and gently probes at your foot, turning it slowly side to side to get a better look. “Does this hurt?” she asks as she rotates your ankle.

“A little, not as much as putting pressure on it, though.”

The doctor nods. “I think it might be best if we do an x-ray just to be sure it’s not broken.”

“Won’t that be harmful to the baby?” Jungkook asks.

“Don’t worry, we’ll make sure to protect your little one.” Jungkook nods his understanding. “Is it your first? You look a little green around the gills, first-time-father jitters.”

Jungkook isn’t entirely sure how to answer that. Because, technically…no? Considering Jiyoon is approximately two weeks further along than you are. Would that make her baby his first? A laugh, barely restrained, simmers deep in Jungkook’s chest.

“Something like that,” he finally says, earning another warm smile from the doctor.

“Alright, let’s get started so I can get you two out of here as soon as possible.”

The word ‘soon’ should be a relative term when it comes to hospitals—or a word that hospital staff is barred from using. Jungkook doesn’t mind spending the hours waiting with you. In fact, you’re pretty pleasant company. That’s not to say Jiyoon isn’t when Jungkook attends appointments with her; there’s just a different level of expectation, he thinks. He hopes this baby will have your patience and grace like that.

Jiyoon wants a quiet observer sitting in the corner, whereas you’re welcoming to his insights and curiosities. You haven’t hushed him a single time when he’s voiced a question of any of the medical staff. In fact, it almost seems like you welcome it, comfortable in letting him show his concern for you.

Thankfully, the x-ray showed no break or fracture. You’ve been given a temporary boot to wear for the next week and strict instructions not to overdo it. “Got it,” you say once the nurse has finished explaining everything to you.

“Now, before we discharge you, we would like to have a sonographer brought in to check on the baby. According to your charts and file, you’re at the twenty-week mark now.”

Jungkook stands up, panic worming its way in. “Should we be worried? Is everything okay?”

The nurse gives him a motherly smile. “That’s what we would like to check.” She turns her attention to you. “You didn’t fall on your belly, but with any trauma to the body, it never hurts just to be sure.”

Of course. That makes sense to Jungkook, but he looks to you for confirmation. “Yeah? You want to do that?”

“That would be great, thanks.”

Jungkook has only attended two live ultrasounds in all the doctor’s appointments he has been to. He has many printed ultrasound images that are now stuck to the refrigerator at home, one side for Jiyoon and the other for you. But he’s only managed to attend one for Jiyoon and one for you, so this will be a wonderful treat.

“Okay, they’ll be here in just a moment.”

A few moments pass after the nurse leaves the room, and Jungkook allows himself to truly assess his internal feelings. He’s thankful that you’re okay and will feel even more at ease once the ultrasound confirms the baby is alright, too. It’s wild for Jungkook to think that just a few months ago, his life felt like it was on the verge of falling apart. There was a steadily growing rift between him and Jiyoon, and you were just Jiyoon’s best friend.

Now, however, he feels closer than ever to his wife, and you’ve managed to carve out your own little pocket in his heart, too. It’s alarming, yet comforting, to realize that there is something more between you and him—a deepening connection that’s still delicate but growing more solid with each passing day.

“You feeling okay?” Your voice breaks through Jungkook’s reverie.

“Hm? Me? I’m great,” he assures, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand. You’ve barely let his hand go the entire time, to which Jungkook won’t complain. “Does it hurt much?” Jungkook nods toward the end of the bed, where your feet are back under the blanket.

You shrug. “It’s not so bad while laying here.”

“Hi!” a bubbly voice calls from the door a second before a young blond woman wheels an imaging cart into the room. “Are we ready to get a look at your little one before you guys go home?”

“Yep.” You give Jungkook’s hand a light squeeze. “Excited?” you ask in a soft voice meant only for him.

“Very,” he tells you, sitting up straighter in his chair.

“Now, this won’t be nearly as good as if we were in radiology in an exam room, but all we really want is to get a look to make sure everything is okay. Besides, who doesn’t want to take a peek when you get the chance, right?”

The tech, with Jungkook’s assistance, helps you adjust on the bed until you’re in a comfortable position for the ultrasound. Jungkook feels frozen as you tug your blouse up and over your belly, giving him his first real glimpse of the swell in all its glory. It’s one thing to see it through your shirt, another thing entirely to see it like this.

“Cold,” you chuckle as the tech squeezes a glob of contact gel onto your lower belly.

“Sorry about that, these carts unfortunately don’t have the warmers on them. Ah, here we are,” she sing-songs when she smoothes the wand over the gel. “Look at that.”

Jungkook tears his eyes from your face, focusing his gaze on the imaging machine's display screen. His breath stutters in his lungs, and a wave of pure, unrestrained joy washes over him.

“They’re perfect,” he says, voice thick with emotion. Jungkook watches as an arm moves across the screen, followed by a little kicking foot.

“Seeing them never ceases to take my breath away.” You take the words right out of Jungkook’s mouth.

The tech hums, giving you a soft smile as she moves the wand around to different angles. “No gender yet?” she asks. “I’ll try to be careful here, don’t want to have any spoilers…unless you would like to know?”

It’s hard not to be curious. “Is it not too early to tell?” Jungkook asks.

Turning the screen slightly away from you and Jungkook, the tech says, “Um, nope. Not too early. Everything looks good, though. So, if you’d rather wait, we can get cleaned up and be done here.”

“What do you say?” Jungkook looks at you with a raised brow.

Your teeth leave a dent in your bottom lip as you worry it for a moment. Another thing he thinks would be cute to see his mini-me do. “I kind of want to, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” he admits, loving the fact that you do.

“Okay, wonderful. In that case,” the tech says before moving the screen back and adjusting the wand on your belly. “Take a look here.”

When Jungkook arrives home, the sun has long since gone down, but he’s so high on cloud nine that he can’t bring himself to care. The large smile on his face hasn’t slipped in the slightest.

Jungkook is certain nothing can bring him down. At least, that is, until he walks through the front door of his condo and straight into hell. Jiyoon is sitting at their dining table, her expression completely devoid of emotion.

“Hey, babe. What’s going on?” Jungkook hesitantly asks, eyes sweeping the open layout and taking note that the only light on is the recessed one directly over Jiyoon. His smile slowly fades, replaced with a crease between his brows.

“What’s going on?” she asks in a cold voice.

“Is everything okay?”

Jiyoon sniffs, her eyes narrowing, the first sign of emotion he’s seen since he walked in. “No. Everything is not okay.”

“O…kay,” Jungkook draws the word out, letting his mind flip through its internal catalog, trying to find pieces of the puzzle to put together.

“Where have you been?”

“There was an accident. Did you get the note from—”

“You’ve not answered any of my calls or texts.”

“I sent you a text before I left. I think I misplaced my phone, I can’t seem to find—”

“You missed my appointment!” she sneers, cutting him off once more. “And you did not text me. I haven’t heard from you since this morning.”

Realization hits, and the warmth drains from Jungkook’s face. He was so focused on everything with you, the panic and then the joy, that he completely spaced on everything else he should have done today. But also…

“I swear I texted you to let you know I was going to the hospital. I was going to make sure everything was okay.” As soon as your name falls from his lips Jiyoon shoves back from the table and rounds it, getting in his face. “She slipped at work and thought she might have broken her foot. Namjoon was supposed to give you a note about it since you were in a meeting. She called me. I was worried. I didn’t mean to miss your appointment. Were they able to determine the gender?”

Jiyoon jabs a finger in the center of his chest. “Not. Good. Enough. I’m your wife, not her! You’re supposed to be with me! Instead, you spend all your fucking time with your nose up her ass when you barely even know her!” Jungkook staggers back as her poke turns into a fully-palmed shove. “You’re un-fucking-believable! What a goddamn joke.”

“Jiyoon, that’s not fair. Something could have been wrong with the baby. It was an emergency,” Jungkook says, trying to make Jiyoon see reason.

It doesn’t work.

“Fuck you! Why do you care so fucking much about that stupid baby?! All you do is fawn over the photos and re-read her text updates! This,” she gestures wildly at her stomach, “is the baby you should care about! Yet you can’t even show up when it counts.”

“You can’t be serious. This is ridiculous.” Jungkook keeps his tone level, refusing to be baited into a knock-down-drag-out with her.

“No!” Jiyoon screams, making Jungkook flinch. “You are ridiculous.” Suddenly a menacing smile cuts across her face. “I bet you slept with her. Didn’t you? That’s it, you’re feeling possessive because you fucked my best friend, and that’s how she got knocked up, isn’t it?”

Jiyoon’s words spark a ringing in Jungkook’s ears. “What?” he whispers, the word barely forming.

“Don’t play dumb with me, Jungkook. I know you too well for that. Let’s not forget your little slip-up—” she throws up air quotes as she says that “—the night you supposedly did ICI.”

“I told you it was an accident. I didn’t mean to do it!”

Sarcasm is a heavy, bitter layer in Jiyoon’s reply, “You just so happened to touch her clit? Just a little oopsie, so innocent. You’re too nice to outright lie to me, so, of course, you come up with some half-truth, expecting me to believe that you didn’t want it, that you weren’t secretly gnawing at the opportunity to try and seduce my best friend!”

“That is not what happened at all!”

“So I’m supposed to believe my pathetically inexperienced best friend is the one that seduced you, then?”

“What? That’s not what I said at all. No one seduced anyone. You’re being fucking crazy right now. You know I’d never do that to y—”

The crack of Jiyoon’s palm against his jaw stuns him into silence. “Don’t you dare call me crazy!” she screams. “You’d never do that to me? Yeah, right. You’re a man, and that’s what men do! Heaven forbid a woman works hard and spends time away from the home, trying to provide for her family. Is that it? I’m gone too much for your sad little dick, so you have to chase after the first desperate pussy that comes your way?”

Jungkook presses his fingers over the searing heat licking up his jaw where her hand struck him. “Jiyoon, no, it’s not like that at all,” he says, losing his momentum because he’s not sure what he can say at this point to make her see reason. “I wouldn’t cheat on you.”

“Fucking my best friend because she’s convenient and out of spite for me being gone so much? No, that sounds exactly like something you would do. Well, looks like it’s your lucky day because two can play that game, asshole. Enjoy your fucking prize!”

Jungkook jerks back, as if Jiyoon just slapped him again. “What does that mean?”

She laughs, the sound deep and throaty. “This baby—” she seethes, rubbing over the small swell of her belly, voice rising with every word “—it’s not yours, you pathetic bastard!”

Next Chapter⇾ ◅ Back to story masterlist  

◅ Back to Main Master List ©️ 2024-04-25 ColorMePurplex2

[therealcocoshady]

Hey! Can you please write marshall's reaction when doctor tells him that his wife is pregnant with TRIPLETS and all of them are BOYS?

Boy dad 🩵

A/N : I find it absolutely hilarious that you sent this request right after I mention I had a soft spot for writing Eminem as the ultimate girl dad 😅. You’re challenging me and I like that 👀. Also… I had SO MUCH FUN writing this request. I don’t think I have written anything this fast ! I hope you enjoy it ✨.

CW : Mention of infertility diagnosis - surprise pregnancy - triplet - mention of abortive measures - angst - fluff

I imagine that he’d react differently to all these news, this pregnancy definitely bringing him on some type of emotional rollercoaster.

He absolutely did not expect you to tell him you were pregnant. You’d been together for a while and, early on in the relationship, you’d told him that you had endometriosis, and that the rather advanced stage of the condition affected your fertility. He didn’t mind it one bit, though. He already had daughters and did not necessarily want any more kids. If you had mentioned that being a mom was important to you, he would have done everything in his power to make your dreams come true, whether it was by doing IVF or adopting. But you didn’t. You’d known about the condition for more than a decade and, though it hadn’t been easy at first, you were at peace with the idea of not raising kids. As long as you had the love of your life by your side, you knew you’d be happy. The two of you went on to get married and enjoy life together. For years, you enjoyed marital bliss and a childfree home, his daughters being all grown up and out of the house. Never in a million years did you expect to get pregnant. The absence of period didn’t exactly tip you off, since your cycle had always been very irregular. And you almost laughed in the face of your GP when she suggested you get some bloodwork done and do a pregnancy test. Sure, you’d booked a consultation because of fatigue and nausea, but there was no way in your mind that the symptoms could be pregnancy-related. After all, the doctors had evaluated your chances of conceiving as « slim to none ». The only reason you agreed to the pregnancy test was because the bloodwork prescription also included other things, so you figured your GP would actually find the cause, probably anemia, and prescribe you some supplements.

You nearly fell from your chair when she called you about the result, and you had her confirm several times that there was no confusion, or that it was not a prank. When the call ended, you burst in a fit of nervous laughter, still in disbelief. Your laugh echoed throughout the house, causing Marshall to come to your office. You realized you probably sounded manic and demented when you saw your husband’s concerned expression. « Are you… alright? » he asked with a raised eyebrow. You didn’t even think twice abut breaking the news to him. « The doctor called. She had my results », you said, struggling to form a complete sentence. He looked at you, nervosity creeping up on him. When it came to you, he seemed to have the ability to get paranoid over nothing. And if it had you sounding this insane, he figured bad news weren’t exactly out of the question, especially with how sick you had been in the past few weeks. He kneeled by your side, holding your hand in his. « So… Is there anything wrong? » he asked in a concerned tone. « I’m pregnant, » you cackled, sounding like a hyena. « Fifteen years ago, they said I was infertile. I did three years of therapy after that and now… pregnant », you hysterically guffawed. You had tears streaming on your cheeks and you struggled to catch your breathing, the nervous laughter taking over your body. So much so that you didn’t even register Marshall’s reaction, or lack thereof. But, minutes after you said the word, you slowly realized he’d remained silent. He was still in the same position, staring at you without so much as blinking. For a spare second, you thought he’d turned into a wax statue and you suddenly understood why some people had described his stare as « creepy ». As your mind became clearer and the silence settled, you started freaking out. « Marshall…? » you asked. He slowly started blinking, looking at you as if he were a deer in headlights. « P-pregnant? » he whispered. « You’re… pregnant? ». You gently squeezed your hand and nodded, the news dawning on you in a different way. « I am » you confirmed. « And, uh… eight weeks along, approximately ». He let out a sigh, visibly surprised. Then, he took both of your hands and kissed them profusely.

« But you’re alright? » he asked, and you nodded again. « Fuck, babe, you scared me. I wasn’t sure if you were dying, or demented, or both » he let out with a chuckle. « Nope… Just… Pregnant », you giggled, still in disbelief over the word. « That’s wonderful » he said emotionally, a smile appearing on your face. You looked at him, scanning his face, just to be sure. « You really think so? » you asked. « Because I know it wasn’t planned, and… ». He gently pressed his finger to your lips and shook his head. « It wasn’t. Fuck. It really wasn’t. But if you’re happy about it… Wait. Are you? » he asked carefully. You gave him a nod and a smile. « I am. I just… I can’t believe it ». He cupped your face and smiled at you tenderly. « If you are happy about it, so am I. That’s great news, Y/N. We made a baby » he said. You couldn’t help but grin from ear to ear, happy tears welling in your eyes. « I thought I’d never be a mom » you whispered, waves of emotions crashing over you as you remembered the first time you were told you couldn’t conceive. « Apparently, you thought wrong » he said, happiness radiating on his face. « And I know our baby already has the best mama » he added emotionally, bringing you into a tight, heartfelt embrace.

The following couple of weeks was emotional but happy. The two of you were ecstatic, determined to welcome this baby as the most beautiful blessing ever. You were still sick and exhausted, but the perspective of welcoming a bundle of joy that was the product of your love certainly made it easier to bear, as did your husband’s gentle care. He seemed determined to make your life easier and give you the most beautiful pregnancy experience, constantly dotting on you and spoiling you. You thought he’d given you the princess treatment in your early courting days but apparently, he was able to take it to another level. You didn’t need the numerous bouquets of flowers (in fact, the smell made you nauseous but you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him that), nor the many presents, but you enjoyed them nonetheless. Most of all, you loved seeing his excitement and devotion for the baby, whom both of you had yet to see.

Both of you felt a sense of childlike excitement, going for the ultrasound appointment. The closest thing you could compare it to was your niece’s first trip to Disneyland, preparing to meet her favorite princesses. You were a little nervous, praying that the baby was healthy. You’d asked Marshall about the gender, and whether he’d rather have a boy or a girl, but both of you were in agreement that, as long as the baby was healthy, it did not matter. « You know, I always thought being a girl dad was what made me so soft, but I know the baby will have me wrapped around their finger, even if they’re a boy » he said. You knew that it was too early to know the gender anyway, but you couldn’t help it. You kept on trying to imagine what that baby would look like. Marshall held your hand in his as the doctor put the probe on your stomach, squeezing tighter as both of you noticed the furrowing of her eyebrows, looking at the screen. « Alright », she said. « It looks like I made a little mistake while interpreting the hormone rate results » she said, turning to you. You turned to Marshall, a sense of nervosity taking over, unsure what the implications were. Did she mean that there was no baby ? Or that there was some health issues? You felt a lump form in your throat, unable to talk. « What mistake? » Marshall nearly barked, nerves taking over his usual politeness. « Well, you see, we usually use the hormone rates to give an estimate, of how far along the pregnancy is » she explained. « However, we tend to assume that it’s a singleton ». Both of you opened wide eyes and you held two fingers up. « Twins? » you asked in a throaty voice. « Triplets » she announced with a smile. « You’re not as far along as I thought. About six weeks. But all three babies are healthy ».

Part of you wanted to sigh in relief, over the news that the pregnancy was healthy but learning that you were carrying not one, not two, but three babies sent both you and Marshall into a spiral. As you drove home, pictures in hand, none of you knew how to feel, and you both remained rather quiet, exchanging banalities, visibly in shock and in need of some time to process. Not so long ago, you were sure you’d never have kids and now, you had to wrap your head around the fact that you were carrying three. In a way, it was a blessing, for sure. But you’d spent so many years envisioning your life without kids of your own that even the perspective of raising one was overwhelming. Multiplying it by three left you speechless and terrified. You weren’t sure how you were supposed to do this. And you weren’t sure how your husband felt either. That would make him a dad to… Six kids. You spent the night in your bed, trying to get some rest and emotional clarity. You took to Google, typing vague and stupid requests such as « pregnant with triplets and freaking out ». You were hoping for some support, some testimonies of parents who had shared your concerns but made it work. Instead, you were met with hundreds of resources about selective fetal reduction procedures. You read a couple of them but, soon enough, you ended up bawling. You couldn’t bring yourself to consider it. You weren’t really churchy or religious by any means, but part of you wanted to believe that life had given you triplets for a reason, and there was no way you would get rid of one of your babies. They were there, and you already loved them so much, even if the perspective of running after three toddlers was nerve-wracking.

When Marshall walked into your shared bedroom and found you crying, he immediately engulfed you into a hug. « Babe, what’s wrong? » he asked softly. « I’m so scared. Three babies is a lot » you hiccuped. « But I don’t want to kill any of them ». He stepped back and looked at you in shock. « Woah, woah, woah. Calm down. Who said we needed to kill babies? » he asked. « I learned that there’s this surgery, that you… I don’t know. Apparently, people do that when they’re carrying too many babies » you tentatively explained in a shaky voice. « I’m freaking out, Marshall. And I know you are, too ». He hummed and nodded, not denying it. « Of course I am » he said gently. « I mean, I wasn’t prepared for a new baby. And now, knowing there’s three of them… It’s a lot. But we can do it. It’ll just take… a lot of logistics. And diapers, I guess. ». His tone was reassuring, though you could tell he was definitely stressed out. « But how are we going to do? With work and all? And do you think we’ll get any sleep at all? » you asked nervously. He shrugged and pressed a kiss to your forehead. « I don’t know » he admitted. « But we’re lucky enough that we can afford anything we need. If you want to quit your job, you can. Or we can get nannies, or a chef, or whatever. Or I can quit my job. But we’ll manage, I know it ». You let out a sigh and let your head roll on his shoulder. « It’s going to change everything » you said. « Yeah, it is. But we’re doing this together. » he replied. « So… You don’t want to get rid of two of them? » you nervously asked. « No. If you think you can’t handle three kids and you want to have that surgery, I’ll support you. But other than that, it’s not up to me to decide. It’s your body and your pregnancy. And whether we have one, three, or seven babies, I will love and support all of you ».

In the months that followed, Marshall continued to dot on you, trying to provide comfort and reassurance, but you could feel each other’s nervousness. This wasn’t help by the reaction to your pregnancy announcement. Your friends and family, though they were happy for you, were not exactly tactful about the huge change the triplets would bring in their life, sometimes making little jokes about Marshall being « too old for this shit ». They also seemed concerned about the impact on his career, though he made it clear that family would remain his priority, as it had been in the past, and that he would put his career on hold if need be. He reiterated the sentiment when you confronted him about it. « You don’t have to do this, you know? I know your career is important to you, and that you had so many plans in mind. The last thing I want is for the pregnancy to ruin it for you » you told him one night. « I know I don’t have to » he assured you. « But you’re my wife. You became my family the day I put a ring on your finger. We vowed to support each other and you held your part of the deal all these years. You supported me in everything. I want to be here for you and our babies. And it wouldn’t be fair to ask you to sacrifice more than you have » he said. You nodded, swallowing dryly. You had felt his tension and nervousness in the past weeks. He remained loving and caring, but you knew he was trying to anticipate everything. «Look, I’ve already talked to Paul. We cleared the schedule for a while. Two months before your due date, and six months after that. Then, we’ll reevaluate. But it’s not just all the career, you know? We’re welcoming three babies, everything is going to change and, some of it is going to be hard, but it’s also going to be happy. I don’t want to miss any milestone. The first time they smile, the crawling, the first steps… I want to be there. So, really, you giving me three amazing, beautiful, healthy kids is not ruining anything ».

As the pregnancy progressed, however, the nervousness remained. The two of you certainly had a few cold sweats when you tried to prepare for the birth, overwhelmed by the amount of baby stuff. Cribs, diapers, bottles, car seats… Everything was to be multiplied by three. In true dad fashion, he decided to buy a new car to accommodate the needs of your growing family, but you could see his frustration. « I think I’ll just end up repurposing a tour bus » he sighed. « The amount of stuff we’ll be driving around is insane ! Have you seen the space we’ll need, just to fit the stroller and diaper bags?! ». The more you tried to prepare, the less joyful it became. The two of you were still happy, determined to welcome the babies and love them, but you were both overwhelmed, especially Marshall. Carrying the babies, feeling them growing inside of you was your main source of comfort and reassurance but, even though your husband was involved, he didn’t have that bond. For him, it still felt distant and logistical. Until the gender reveal.

Prior to learning you were having triplets, the two of you had toyed with the idea of waiting until the birth to find out the gender. But now that the planning was overwhelming, it felt like knowing the gender would make things easier. You also suspected that it might help Marshall feel a little closer to your little ones, since he would be able to at least picture it a little better. However, you opted out of turning it into a huge event. Carrying triplets was exhausting and you were in no mood to be social for a whole afternoon. Instead, you decided to enjoy the moment, just the two of you. The doctor had given you an envelope with the gender of the triplets, which you have to the owner of your favorite bakery. You ended up with a three-layered cake, the color of each layer representing the gender of one baby. « Are you ready? » you asked as you opened the box, revealing an elegant cake, coated in white frosting. « Ready » he said with a smile. « Still no preference for the gender? » you asked teasingly. « I’m hoping for at least one son, » he admitted. « I love being a girl dad, but six daughters and a wife would feel… A little lonely » he chuckled before crouching in front of you and placing a loving kiss on your belly. « But I love y’all anyway » he whispered. You took a deep breath and cut the cake, careful not to look before he could. « I can’t do it! » you said. « I can’t look! You have a look and tell me! ». He chuckled as you closed your eyes. You heard the cluttering of cutlery, followed by a « HOLY SHIT!!! ». You immediately opened your eyes and saw all blue layers inside of the piece of cake on the plate.

Marshall was covering in mouth, in absolute disbelief. « Boys! All boys! » he said. « Looks like your wish came true » you whispered. He took your hands and kissed you lovingly. « You’re going to be a boy mom » he stated with a smile, knowing full-well you’d always said the boy moms were the most annoying of the species. You giggled and pressed your forehead to his. « Hopefully, I don’t become too annoying » you chuckled. « Do whatever you want, I’m definitely going to be an annoying boy dad » he grinned. «After we eat that cake, I’m ordering Lions jerseys for them. And Jordans. Oh my God, I’m having sons ». You watched lovingly as he rambled about how great it would be to introduce them to football, how much fun they’d have bonding over sports. His joy, which had seemed quieted by the logistical concerns, was overwhelming and he was positively beaming. « I’m quitting » he finally said. « You’re what?! » you asked. « Babe, picture this: you give birth to these three, and you do it twice more. Maybe just twins for the last pregnancy. We only need 11 players for the Mathers football team! ». You rolled your eyes at him and patted his chest. « We’ll see how you feel about it after the first night home from the hospital » you said. He rolled his eyes back at you and placed a kiss on your lips. « I can’t wait to meet these guys ».

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Love is in the air | Part 1

PAIRING | Fiancé!Robert Downey Jr. x Fiancée!Pregnant!Fem!Reader

WORD COUNT | 3.4K

SUMMARY | Valentine's Day has been incredible since you met Robert, but this time, he plans on making it extra special because this will be the last one where it is just the two of you. From breakfast in bed to a fancy dinner cooked by a private chef and a calming bubble bath, he is pulling out all the stops to make this a very romantic and relaxing day for you both.

RATING | Explicit (E)

WARNINGS/TAGS | Established relationship, referenced pregnancy, difficulty with conceiving, referenced IVF treatments, drawing blood/needles (non-descriptive), jealousy,

SMUT | Dirty talk, daddy kink, pregnancy kink, nipple play, oral (F receiving), fingering, handjob, light edging, unprotected sex, cream pie, cockwarming

A/N | Happy Valentine's Day everyone! 💜 This is proofread by the lovely @ccbsrmsf1, who I love dearly! Thank you for everything you do for me and my blog, I can not even begin to thank you enough for all your support! I love you 3000 💜

EVENTS Masterlist | @fluffbruary Fluffbruary '24 | Bubble bath Masterlist | @marvel-smash-bingo | Picking a name Masterlist | @seasonaldelightsbingo | "There's no place like home." Masterlist | @slumberpartybingo | Truth: What is the most heart-felt gift you've ever given? Masterlist | @sweetspicybingo Sweethearts | Sweet pea

Banners: Yours truly | Divider: @firefly-graphics | GIF: @ccbsrmsf1

Main Masterlist | Robert Downey Jr. Masterlist | Part 2

Today promises to be a special day because it is Valentine's Day and the seventh anniversary of the day Robert asked you to become his girlfriend, which you happily accepted. Now, you're only a few short weeks away from the day you're saying yes to him, and even though the nerves are starting to settle in, he will try his hardest to make today very special.

The morning started with a slow, lazy round of lovemaking after he woke you up with his face buried between your thighs, your first orgasm of the day already washing over you before you even got the chance to wake up properly. It was followed by the most delicious breakfast in bed as he fed you your waffles and fruit.

Now, you're getting ready to go out to run some errands, standing in front of your closet, trying to decide your outfit for the day. Lately, all your clothes have been getting tighter, but that isn't a surprise, seeing as you're six and a half months pregnant. The day you told him about your pregnancy is still engraved into his brain, and it is one of the most memorable moments of his life.

You and Robert have had many talks about getting children, as it has always been a dream of his to have many of them. However, the path to this has been proven more difficult than either of you envisioned. After nearly three years of trying and failing, you and Robert entered an IVF cycle, as the dream of a little one running around was still present, even after the countless negative tests.

It has been about a week and a half since your second treatment, the first sadly being unsuccessful. Despite this, you will remain positive, and today will be the moment you will take a pregnancy test to see if, this time, you have been successful and you are indeed pregnant.

"Are you ready?" the nurse asks you before poking you with more needles, and you have lost count of how many times you have been poked and prodded at this point.

"Yeah, I'm ready," you sigh, looking at Robert as he holds your hand in both hands, encasing yours completely. You can see a sprinkle of enthusiasm and curiosity as you look into his deep, dark brown eyes. He is not even close to giving up, and the hope he is feeling is mutual.

"And we're all done! You can stay seated here, and your doctor will be here with your results soon," she tells both of you with a reassuring smile. Now, the actual waiting game has begun, which becomes longer and longer each time you're here.

After what seems like an eternity, your fertility doctor walks in, this time bringing the best news you could have wished for. You are officially pregnant, and even though you will be under close watch for the first few months, you can officially start celebrating the little life beginning to form inside you.

"I-I can't believe it, we did it, Gorgeous! We're pregnant!" Robert exclaims as he grabs your face, tears running over your face and a proud smile adorning his features. Despite all the negative tests, despite all the waiting and all the hardships, you're pregnant. You will finally start the family with the man you love more than anyone.

"How's my beautiful baby mama doing in here?" Robert asks as he stands behind you, wearing only a pair of sweatpants low on his hips, his muscular body on display. You sigh as you lean into his touch, Robert's arms wrapping around you to lay on your belly.

"I'm okay, just a little indecisive today on what to wear," you tell him, turning your head to look at him with a small smile. He always seems to make you feel like the most beautiful and loved woman on earth, which you are to him. You're his queen and the center of his universe, and there's nothing he wouldn't do for you, especially now that you're carrying his little princess in your belly.

"I think I have something you might enjoy. Just wait here for a moment, and I'll get it for you!" he tells you before pecking your lips, leaving you behind with a big smile and piqued curiosity. It doesn't take long for Robert to return with a white shopping bag, handing it to you, followed by another kiss.

As you open the bag, you're greeted by a bright yellow floral fabric, a shriek of excitement leaving your chest as you know it's the sundress you've been eyeing for a while but never gotten as you don't really like to buy nice things for yourself - instead choosing to spend it on your little princess and your fiancé.

The bag finds its way onto the floor as you take out the dress, holding it in front of you with a broad smile and turning to the mirror to look at it. You feel a pair of eyes burning into the back of your head as Robert looks at you with nothing but love, your eyes meeting in the mirror before you put it on. The soft fabric glides over your skin like silk, your pregnant belly beautifully displayed.

"So? How do I look?" "Like the absolute queen you are," Robert responds, and a flood of warmth spreads through your body when you turn to face him, your arms wrapping around his neck before you stand on your tiptoes to kiss him softly, the butterflies in your chest going into overdrive.

"I love you, Robert," you tell him before giving a few more kisses, happily allowing yourself to get lost in them.

"I love you too, sweet pea," he whispers against your lips, his plump pink ones finding yours for one last breathtaking kiss, the feeling of his hands roaming over your sides giving you goosebumps. With each passing second, he shows you how special you are to him, and you fall increasingly in love with him daily.

You've gone out the door not too long ago, and Robert is now home alone, getting ready for the rest of the celebrations today. After getting dressed in a pair of black slacks and a navy blue button-up shirt, he's heading out the door to go and get your Valentine's Day present.

For the past few months, you and Robert have been discussing adding a cat to the family, which you've wanted since childhood. Now that you have found a secure job, too, where you'll be working from home three days a week, it is the perfect moment to add them. And now, Robert is on his way to pick up your two little angels.

After a drive of about 30 minutes, he arrives at the breeder he landed on after having done countless hours of research. He wants nothing but the best for you, and now it's time to officially pick up the surprise that will surely make today unforgettable.

"Hi, I have an appointment with Anne," Robert says as he gives a friendly smile to the receptionist.

"Okay, if you wait right here, I'll get her," she tells him, and he nods before pulling his phone out of his pocket and looking at the time. His gaze falls on the photo he has on his background, a press photo of you together on the red carpet for the Oscars not too long ago.

He was dressed in an all-black outfit, and you were wearing a bright red evening gown that showed your pregnant belly off to the world, letting everyone know that you would be parents in a few months. Up to that point, you had managed to keep it under wraps from the world, and as soon as the news was out, every tabloid and every newspaper was talking about the pregnancy, stirring up a lot of attention from all over the world.

A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth as he admires the way you look, your face looking like it's glowing as you look right into the camera, standing close to Robert as his hand is wrapped around your back, pulling you into his side. You two are the definition of a power couple, and he couldn't be more proud of you.

He's so lost in his thoughts that he doesn't notice the two women walking into the waiting area where he is standing until one of them clears their throat.

"Oh, I'm so sorry! I was looking at this photo of my fiancée," Robert says with a proud look as he shows off the photo. His smile grows wider as the realization dawns on the two women he's sadly taken. You and Robert are pretty private about your relationship, not often out in public together to maintain the privacy of your love life.

"You two are beautiful together, Robert," Anne says with a hint of jealousy, the corners of her mouth turning into a not-so-convincing smile before she turns on her heel, showing him the way to the back where the two kittens are. As soon as he sees the little feline babies, it's all he has eyes for, and his heart is beating faster at the sight of them.

They are cuddled in a corner, sitting close to each other as they look up at Robert curiously. Tiny meows leave their mouths, and that's when he knows he has made the right choice.

"They're all ready to go home with you, Robert; we have a carrying case for you to take both these little girls home and give them the luxurious life they deserve," Anne says as she crouches down, ready to say goodbye. Not long after, Robert is on his way home, excited to share this surprise with you.

You have been gone for the past few hours, and the tiredness is starting to kick in. All you have left to do now is relax as you get a manicure, which Robert gifted you as a Valentine's Day surprise. What you don't know, however, is that he is busy preparing the house for your two little angels and putting rose petals in your bed- and bathroom while the private chef he hired is busy cooking the most amazing meal for the two of you.

The set you're going for is a green and white floral design, which is perfect for the beautiful weather outside. The appointment itself is over all too soon for your liking, though you're also happy to be going home again to your wonderful fiancé and to the surprises he has planned for your evening.

The second you put the key in the lock of your house, you're greeted by a delicious smell that you can only describe as the most delicious food you've ever smelled: Italian. Your belly immediately starts rumbling, and you chuckle with a shake of your head. As the door swings open, you're met with a sight you would have never expected in a hundred years.

Robert is standing in the hallway of your house with the two cutest little kittens you've ever seen - one black and one orange. You start tearing up at the sight as you realize they're his present for you. Ever since you were a little girl, you dreamt of having a black cat named Boo and an orange cat named Angel, and he remembered.

"R-Robert... are they-'' "These beautiful girls are all yours, Gorgeous; happy Valentine's Day," he says as he takes in your features, admiring how your face lights up at the sight of the kittens. You give him a small kiss before taking the black one from him and holding her close to your body.

"Hi, little girl," you whisper to little Boo, and she purrs happily as you scratch her head, and Robert is still holding Angel, who's sleeping in his hold. It takes little time for the chef to finish with the appetizer of the evening and Robert to guide you to your dining room. As you look around, you see the room is dark, apart from a few candles lit here and there and rose petals strewn across the floor and on the table.

"It's beautiful in here," you whisper as you walk over to Robert, wrapping your arms around his waist as you pull him closer for a much-needed embrace, your head snuggling in against his chest as the scent of his cologne makes you feel like you've officially come home.

Robert nuzzles his face into your hair, giving a soft kiss on your head as he enjoys your closeness, his heart beating faster as he thinks about how much he loves you and how lucky he is to call you his.

"Shall we sit down for dinner, Gorgeous? After I am planning on taking this party to the bubble bath," he whispers, and you nod in response, wanting nothing more than to share a bath with the man you love. You lean back to capture his lips with yours, letting the kiss take its natural course until you're both breathless.

"Thank you for everything, Robert; thank you for being there for me when I needed you most, and thank you for being there for me when I was feeling the best I've ever felt," you tell him, your heart rate picking up as you look into his eyes, a large smile spreading on your features.

"There's no need to thank me, Gorgeous; I'd do it all over again without a second thought and no doubt in my mind," he tells you, sealing his promise with one last kiss before he lets you go and you take your seat at the table. During the three-course dinner, you're savoring every bite of the dishes prepared, the conversation between you and Robert light, with a comfortable silence here and there, too.

After dinner, it is finally time for Robert to treat you to the bubble bath he promised you, all while the private chef cleans up before taking the dirty dishes with him again, leaving the kitchen and dining room spotless.

"Shall we get you out of these clothes, Gorgeous? I would love to see you all bare for me," he whispers in your ear, his hot breath against your ear giving you goosebumps, his hands gliding down your sides and hips to the hem of your dress. His long fingers gently grip it before pulling it up and over your head, exposing your pregnant belly to him before he sinks onto his knees in front of you.

You take a small step back until you lean against the counter while Robert takes his time to let his fingers and lips glide over every inch of exposed skin that he's just revealed. When his fingers hook behind the edge of your lace panties, he rips them apart, exposing your dripping pussy to him in one go, making you gasp loudly.

"Look at you, so wet for me already," he says with a smirk as he lifts your leg, placing a trail of soft kisses before hooking it over his shoulder, soft giggles escaping as you feel his facial hair tickling the sensitive skin of your thigh. He can't help but groan as his tongue makes contact with your dripping flesh, the taste of your juices coating his tongue.

Moans tumble out of your mouth as he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking softly before introducing his fingers to your entrance. Starting carefully with one of them, he slides it in and out of you leisurely, his tongue alternating between pleasuring your clit and lapping up the juices flowing out of you.

"D-Daddy, 'm close!" you gasp as Robert works a second finger into you, scissoring them as he sets a faster pace, your fingers grabbing the edge of the counter as your orgasm creeps closer. His cock stirs in his pants as you call him that, his mind going into overdrive as he adds a third finger too, and you're falling over the edge with a scream of his name, your back arching as he keeps sucking and licking, working you carefully through it.

"You're the sweetest thing I've ever tasted, Gorgeous. I can be buried between these heavenly thighs forever," he tells you as you're coming down from your high, his lips placing soft kisses on your belly on his way up. It doesn't take long for both of you to be completely bare, his cock standing at attention against his abdomen, pre-cum leaking from the tip.

The bathtub is slowly filling up as you stand on your toes, capturing Robert's lips with yours as your hand wraps around the base of his cock, a shuddering breath leaving his mouth as he closes his eyes, basking in the pleasure as you slowly work him up and down.

"So hard for me already, Daddy, can't wait to feel this cock deep inside me as you stretch my tight little pussy with this fleshy, veiny monster cock of yours," you whisper, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of your mouth before you let him go, a desperate whine coming from Robert.

Once the tub is full of bubbles and warm water, Robert helps you into it before you straddle his thighs, the tip of his cock nudging your clit already. You're still sensitive from your orgasm as it happens, and your nails dig into his shoulders, a hiss coming from Robert at the feeling, only adding to his pleasure right now.

"C'mon Gorgeous, sit on Daddy's cock like you want to, can't wait to be buried deep inside you again," he whispers as if he didn't pump you full of his cum twice this morning. The two of you were already insatiable for one another, but now that you're pregnant, your sex drive has increased even more.

You lift yourself slightly before grabbing Robert again at the base of his cock, lining him up and sinking slowly as you stretch around him. Even with his stretching you out earlier, it's a tight fit, and broken moans leave your lips as Robert has his fingers digging into your hips to make sure he doesn't cum before he's buried inside your warmth.

"Fuck, you're so beautiful, with this round belly of yours carrying our daughter. I love your stretchmarks, Baby, and these beautiful breasts of yours-" emphasizing his point by gently playing with your sensitive nipples "- have to be my favorite part of all. Full of milk, God, I can't wait to taste your sweet milk Gorgeous, are you going to let me drink from them whenever I want?" he asks, his pupils blown with lust as he looks at you as you bite your lip.

"Y-yes Daddy, 's all yours," you tell him as you start to work yourself over his length, the bubbles all around you swaying with the waves you're creating with your movements, the sound of the water hitting the sides of the bath and your combined moans filling the room. As he keeps up a slow, gentle pace, you can already feel your orgasm creeping closer, though it's not enough quite yet.

You look up at him with pleading eyes, and he instantly gets the hint as he looks at you before he holds your body still, fucking up into you with a brutal pace that has the water splashing over the edges. With this rhythm he's created, you're both on the edges of your release and with one last bruising kiss, you swallow each other's moans as you fall over the edge together.

Your walls squeeze his cock, milking him dry for all it's worth, and a deep groan leaves Robert's throat as he spills his cum inside you, panting as you're both enjoying the post-orgasmic bliss.

"Y'know, out of all the places we could have celebrated our anniversary and Valentine's Day, you have officially chosen the best one. There's no place like home, after all," you tell him, and he agrees with a content hum. The two of you are staying like this for a while, and at some point, the conversation steered to baby names.

"What do you think of the name Carolina Camryn Downey? Carol for short?" you offer, and Robert lets the name sink in before nodding.

"Carol Downey, I think that sounds perfect," he tells you before leaning in, his lips meeting yours in a gentle and soft yet sensual and passionate kiss. It is official: your baby's name has been picked out, and all you can do now is welcome her into this world.

[pixelnrd]

Hello :D

I wanted to know how do you decide the kids each sim has because I struggle to regulate my save’s population. I saw some people using dice to decide it and others simply have them by the decade they’re on but I still wanted to know your method!

Personally, I don’t ‘plan’ how many kids each generation will have too much but rather have in mind how many I think they would have had in that particular era of time and see how it works out.

If this is interesting for you, here is what informed each generation…

1890: large families were common, especially for working class folk, so I knew I would plan for at least 4 children. When I decided to go for a 5, it was twins.

1900: 2 children, as Ernie was aiming for a more upper class lifestyle. But I knew that Ernie would adopt his sisters daughter Marigold making it really 3 children.

1910: there was no official heir for this generation but I knew that Primrose and Marigold would each have 1 child. Primrose didn’t get to have anymore as she was widowed, but she helped raise Marigolds son which fulfilled any desire she had for more. Marigold was asexual, she had her son but just never fell pregnant again.

1920: Daisy had 3 children by seperate partners, as a consequence of being a very sexual and impulsive person during a time where there was no contraception.

1930: going back to working class farm roots during the Great Depression I thought the family would have more children again, so I knew there would be 4 at least. Having twins on the 2nd pregnancy meant that this happened quickly.

1940: I had planned for 2 children, one born during the war (Margot) and one born after the war, due to Douglas and Joan’s long time apart serving. However there was an accidental 3rd child anyway (Lewis).

1950: in the Baby Boom it felt natural to have a large family, so 4 was the goal again. However I remained open to 5, which is why Stella was conceived.

1960: when Leo became heir I knew he and Valerie wouldn’t be the big family type, and thanks to contraception they didn’t have to be. They were only meant to have 1 child and then realise they weren’t cut out for it, but had accidental twins.

1970: going back to Hippy roots again I felt Eleanor would have a larger family, with a goal of 3 - I decided later that 4 felt more fitting, it just took a long time for her to fall pregnant with Summer.

1980: 2 children was always the goal, as family sizes shrank towards the end of the century and April was a working woman. When River remarried I knew he would have a later-in-life child with his new wife.

1990: playing with early IVF technology I knew that Jenny and Heather would have a multiples pregnancy of at least 2 - having 3 was a fun bonus!

[thatfragilecapricorn30]

dad

msr, post-deadalive canon divergence | 1.6k words | ao3  tagging @today-in-fic

When Mulder woke from the dead, the first thing he saw was Scully’s face, and the relief he felt seeing her was immense. Mulder was not only happy that she was alive and well but that she was by his side during this confusing and traumatic time. Since the beginning of their partnership, Scully had always been a calming and grounding presence, and Mulder needed that now more than ever, as he was having trouble coming to terms with what had happened to him. He didn’t have much memory beyond his abduction, but the images that did flash through his brain were not pleasant. He could only imagine what kind of counseling he was going to need to process everything, but for now, having Scully nearby was enough to get him through the short-term.

The second thing he saw was Scully’s belly. Initially, he didn’t know if he was dreaming or woozy from the drugs, but the more alert Mulder became, the more he realized that she was actually pregnant. Based on her size, at least seven to eight months had passed. If not more, because Mulder had no idea when Scully conceived or even how. Was it natural and if so, who was the father? Was it him? Or did she meet someone else while he was gone? Did she try IVF again, this time with an anonymous sperm donor? The questions made his brain – and his heart – hurt.

Luckily, they had always been good at reading each other's body language, and Scully immediately addressed the issue when she saw his eyes rove uneasily over her belly.

“It’s yours,” she said, smiling through tears that suddenly welled in her eyes. “I was pregnant when we were in Oregon. That’s why I felt sick.”

“Oh,” was all he could say. So he was the father, but what did that mean? Was he supposed to be a parent after all this? Would Scully even want him involved? He wasn’t sure if he would have been a good father before the abduction but now, he was even more fucked up. His mind whirred with more unanswered questions, and he started to feel anxious.

Scully must have noticed his overwhelm, because she leaned in close to say, “I know it’s a lot. But you don’t have to worry about anything else aside from getting better, okay?”

He nodded, his heart rate slowing when Scully carded her fingers through his hair. They would figure it all out later.

Over the next few days, Mulder slowly felt his strength return. Scully stayed by his side almost the entire time, observing the doctors and nurses, reviewing his charts, and talking about what had happened during the eight months he was missing and then dead. She stuck to work topics: her new partner at the FBI and the cases they investigated. He couldn’t imagine how uncomfortable she was sitting in a plastic chair all day, but she never gave a hint of discomfort. Mulder did force her to leave at night so she could sleep in a real bed and so that he could have some time to think, which was mostly about Scully carrying his baby and what that would mean for his life. The more he considered it, the more he realized that he wanted to be a dad and be a part of the baby's life. It wasn't like he had never contemplated this issue before. When he had agreed to donate sperm for Scully's IVF, he was ready to take on the responsibility of a child. Even though that seemed like lifetimes ago, Mulder would never abandon Scully and their baby. He was even looking forward to having a purpose in life that wasn't searching for his sister or extraterrestrial life. But he also wanted to make sure Scully was on the same page.

On the third day of recovery, he finally got the nerve to ask her.

“Scully? Can we talk about the baby?”

Scully looked up from the medical journal she was reading and then put it aside so she could move her chair closer to Mulder’s bed.

She immediately starting talking, “Mulder, before you say anything, I just want you to know that I’m fully aware an eight-month pregnancy is a lot to wake up to, especially in your condition. So, I understand if you need time to think or consider. With everything that’s going on, there’s no pressure from me at all. I’m just so happy you’re here.”

She seemed like she was going to keep going, so Mulder interrupted, “I want to.”

Scully looked surprised. “You want to?”

“I want to be involved. If you'll have me,” he added.

Scully’s pursed lips turned into a real smile. If he could still manage to make her happy, then everything really was going to be alright.

“Okay, great,” she whispered, looking like she was going to cry again.

“Do you have a picture or a, a –“ he couldn’t remember the word but Scully filled it in for him.

“An ultrasound? Yes, I do.” She pulled a folded photo from her purse and handed it to him.

It was a black and white scan and while he secretly thought it looked like a blob, that was his child. He stared at it for a while, tracing the baby with one finger. The ultrasound was well-worn, like it had been in Scully’s purse for a while.

“Is it a boy or a girl?” he asked.

“You can’t tell?” Scully asked mischievously.

“Scully, you’re the doctor. No offense but this really does look like a alien.”

“Well, then you’re just going to have to wait to find out,” she said with a laugh, plucking the ultrasound out of his hands to prove the point.

“Wait, can I keep that?” Mulder asked, sounding shy to himself.

Scully stopped folding the photo and smoothed it back out. “Yes, of course. I’m sorry." She handed it back to him. "You’ll have to come to the next appointment and hear the heartbeat.”

Mulder could think of nothing better.

After Mulder was released from the hospital, he became Scully’s worst nightmare. Well, she never said that or gave any indication that he was annoying her, but he must have been. Mulder spent most of his time at her apartment, reading every baby book he could get his hands on (luckily Scully had quite a few) and helping her with chores. In his defense, Scully was pregnant and shouldn’t be doing laundry or dishes or grocery shopping. She didn’t seem to mind having a shadow, which was strange because the old Scully would have kicked him out way more often so she could have some alone time. But pregnancy made Scully shockingly serene: she answered all of his questions, tolerated his fussing, and reminded him frequently how happy she was that he was back.

Mulder didn’t know what to make of it.

The only time he was really apart from her was when he went to counseling twice a week. He had to fudge some of the details of his disappearance and death to the counselor, but he felt like the therapy was helping.

Mulder went to one last ultrasound appointment and heard the baby’s heartbeat, which he thought was spectacular.

When Scully’s water broke, everything became real and the panic set in. He rushed around trying to make sure they had everything, wondering if they needed to call an ambulance. Scully stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“Mulder, it’s fine. We have plenty of time to get to the hospital.”

She went to the closet to grab the hospital bag that she had clearly packed awhile ago. “You’re supposed to be the one calming me down,” she said, with a knowing look.

“Sorry,” Mulder apologized sheepishly. “You know that’s not my strong suit.”

Mulder drove them both to the hospital. He didn’t break any speeding laws or run any red lights, though it was tempting. Scully had a few contractions in the car, which was distressing, moreso to Mulder, and he wanted to get her to the hospital as quickly as possible.

He was there the whole time Scully labored and let her squeeze his hand during all of the contractions and pushing. He had forgotten how strong she was and wouldn't be surprised if he came out of his experience with sprained bones. Mulder had never witnessed a birth before and found the whole process incredible. His son or daughter was about to make their entrance into the world and he would be right there for it.

The doctor delivered the baby – a boy, which Mulder could now recognize – and immediately handed him to Scully to hold. Their son screamed and cried and Mulder was impressed how something so tiny could make so much noise. After a few minutes, a nurse whisked the baby away to be cleaned up and weighed.

“What do you think?” Scully asked, smiling up at him. She looked tired but so beautiful.

“It was amazing. You were amazing,” Mulder exclaimed.

The nurse brought the baby back, now swaddled in a blanket and wearing a little newborn cap. She handed him to Scully.

“Do you want to hold him, Dad?” Scully held the baby out to him, so trusting that he could handle this new role. Mulder didn’t know when the last time he held a baby was. Maybe it was when Samantha was born. But Scully – his little skeptic – believed in him. Believed he could be a good dad. Believed that they could be a family. He gently took their son into his arms and cradled him against his chest. The love he felt for this new person was overwhelming. The love he felt for Scully was overwhelming. He was so lucky to get another chance at life, and at a family. Before he knew it, there were tears running down his cheek.

“Oh, Mulder,” Scully sighed. She reached for him, so Mulder sat next to her on the bed and they admired the miracle that was their son.

[onyourhyuck]

MIRACLES DO HAPPEN. | Mark Lee (M)

↳ Prologue: “I wanted a baby so freaking bad.” + “I know, i’m sorry.”

↳ summary: You and Mark have been trying to conceive for a year but have failed. Both of you are persistent to start a family together so you venture out into the world of IVF. You’re starting your miracle on Christmas Day.

↳ Warning: Angst fluff. Mention of mental health. Healthy relationships with up and downs. Domestic Husband Mark. Fem Reader. Pregnancy mention. Honestly cried while writing this. IVF process. Injections/Needles mention. Arguments.

↳ Note: KINKMAS FIC. My favourite YouTuber is getting an IVF journey and now I can’t stop with the angst, so I’m writing an IVF fanfic. The whole process is inspiration and really shows how women are so strong to go through this.

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Life doesn’t go the way you plan most of the time. It certainly didn’t go the way you have imagined your marriage with Mark, but neither of you cared anymore. You aren’t going to give up on having a baby. You want it and Mark wants it just as much as you do. It doesn’t matter how you get the baby anymore. You closed the natural process out. Simply getting pregnant the natural way wasn’t working out for you. Mark has tried his hardest with you last year, every single pregnancy test turned out negative. It was hard to get up the next day to take a new pregnancy test hoping it shows up with two lines with positive written in bold letters. Instead you never came to see those. No matter how many times you try, it never succeed.

It wasn’t only you who suffered great deal of damage physically and mentally stressing constantly about how you will conceive a child. Because it was all you ever wanted. A family. Start your own family. Have little mark or little y/n running about the house, Mark coming home and being greeted with a child or two. You making dinner with your children, growing older while you watch them grow and experience the life ahead of them. Mark wants that too, believe it or not he suffers just as much as you did. He’s frustrated with himself that he couldn’t bring you what you wanted. A sense of divine intervention was meant to be done here but he couldn’t of brought it into light. At some point last year his mentality spiralling down further and he lashed at you. Yelled at you. Mark never yelled at you once, for as long as you knew him he never once shouts at you or scolds you. But he did it when he was in this constant pain of seeing you and him lose each other. The pressure of getting you pregnant but never actually getting you pregnant made him feel as if he has fail you.

So when he had yelled at you that day, you broke down too. Yelling back at your husband , screaming out how it wasn’t his fault but yours. You felt guilty for making Mark feel this way. You were too absorbed in your own worrisome thoughts and paranoia to the point you completely forgot getting pregnant was a two way ticket. Not a lonely journey alone, but a duo teamwork; spiritually, mentally and physically.

That day. Mark swore to never yell at you again because the sight of you crying and hating yourself twice as much meekly pains him to the bones. He would rather have you hate him than hate yourself for something you cannot control. It was Mother Natures process and choice to make. Your husband suggested IVF and if that doesn’t work, adoption was the last bit on the list.

IVF was not a simple process whatsoever though. Many women have so much side effects it can take a toll on your mental health, change your physique as well as your personality might change drastically. But it is what you are willing to go through to get pregnant. You want to do this. The doctors told you to take three injections: one in the morning, one in the afternoon after lunch preferably and then at night.

You woke up with a groggy feeling laying on your abdomen. Rolling out of bed and turning the bedside lamp on, your husband tugs on your sultry silk sleeve pulling your back a nudge. He groans out, half asleep. “Baby, come back to bed.”

Your lips fell into a small smile before pointing your eyes at the clock on your table next to the double share bed. It was 6:30am. The exact time you’re supposed to be taking the injection. You stood up, “after the injection i will.”

Mark sits up humming. “I’ll inject you, is that okay?” He rubs back the bed hair, the soft fluff out black locks make your eyes waver at the sight. You nod, “alright come.” making your way inside the bathroom you sit on top of the toilet seat preparing yourself mentally by heavy exhale. You always hated needles. Hated the way it goes inside you with a pinch.

He comes in with the syringe with the liquid full of hormones. The first side effect you might notice on yourself would be nausea and weight gain. In fact the doctor made you purposely gain weight before injecting your stomach because it would make it easier to pierce in you. The fatter body you have the more chance of the IVF actually working. Mark slowly kneels on the bathroom floor in front of you with reassurance in his eyes, he rubs your legs comfortingly when he saw your teary eyes.

“Hey.” He speaks out to you in a soft spoken voice. “I will be here with you through this journey every step away. Don’t be scared.” He leans to lift your pyjama satin shirt revealing your stomach, you try your best to stay loosen avoiding to use your stomach core muscles. You need to be loose and prepared for the hormone to enter your body.

The needle perks on your skin slowly going in and deeper into you with the liquid slipping in. You weren’t aware of it until he pulls out the needle and quickly he shifts to put the cute watermelon bandaid on the area he injected it to stop the small blood coming out from the injection. You sigh out as your tears spill, your thoughts were coming back: ‘this wouldn’t of happened if i got pregnant naturally. The easy way.’ You realise this wasn’t the ideal situation for either of you.

Mark pulls you into an embrace murmuring praises hoping it might distract you from how overwhelming this actually is for your marriage as well as your families. “You’re so strong for this, Y/n. I’m so proud.” His hands rub your back in circular motions as you exhale a deep heavy breathing, trembling in his hold you sniffle.

“I wanted a baby so freaking bad.” Your voice trails in his shoulder resting there . Mark bites his bottom lip at your words, now his vision become blurry as he spews out tears. “I know, I am sorry.” He wanted a baby so freaking bad too. But he cannot breakdown with you, he has to support you too. Negativity won’t solve your problems, but perhaps Positivity might make a grave difference in your situation a lot more.

His apology couldn’t make you feel more tied down to guilt. It sent you at least twenty feet underground with the way his voice breaks down and cracks, trying to sound strong for you, but you could tell he was on his breaking point too.

Mark pulls away from the embrace holding your face with his palms, he pulls you into a loving kiss. He breaks it apart from your mouth and travels to peck your forehead after. “You’re going to be an amazing mother after the IVF is done.”

You let out a shy smile looking down. “You think so?” Mark brushed your hair back with the fingertips lightly. “I know so.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Christmas Day has come, and the clinic has called you for an important news to share with you and Mark containing about the IVF journey. You’ve done everything you were told but you now need to hear the final news if you’re pregnant or not.

Your families have gathered around your house for this Christmas and are settling outside hanging about together. You bring yourself in to the living room by the fireplace that was burning the charcoal, a large Christmas tree invading the corner with presents underneath still waiting to be opened. You sit down and Mark comes in soon enough with his phone in hand. He hands it to your palms with a half excited and nervous face.

“They’re calling.” Mark tells you.

Your hands press the green button and the clinical doctor on the line speaks, her voice breaks your mind into nothingness as if before you had no thoughts running even though you were praying like a mantra to god it is positive news something you want to hear ; same with mark. He has prayed before in the kitchen alone. Your families are here with you anticipating too.

“Hello I have some news to share… I want you to prepare for what I’m about to say.” Your doctor said to you both. Mark and you share a glance before humming in agreement.

“We’re ready.”

Your doubts were there, no denying about it. You had negative thoughts there in the back of your head. But you pushed them away staying hopeful for this journey because you haven’t put your blood sweat and tears in it for nothing. Mark and you haven’t got up everyday at 6:30 to inject you the next following days. It wouldn’t be for vain. Plus adoption was always an option next.

“Y/n Lee and Mark Lee…”

…

“Congratulations you are pregnant!”

You and Mark look at each other with wide eyes. In a sweep your husband has wrapped his hands on your waist lifting you into the air twirling your as if you were a bird dancing in the air, flying free, mark was laughing with tears brewing in the eyes, slipping you down back on your feet he had you freeze in your spot. Your lips fell into a line when he met your lips with his, kissing them gracefully and softly as if they were made of porcelain material. So fragile and delicate. He had his hands wrapping in your curls, letting them go as his fingertips trace your jawline and up cupping your cheeks with his warm hands. You close your eyes enjoying the loving scent of cinnamon in the air as well as the warm emitting from the fireplace. His soft lips radiating on yours, felt like heaven ascending you to higher realm.

You break apart with a breathy sight of happiness. You were happy, he was happy; hell you were more than happy. You felt an achievement. An long fulfilling wish become reality. A family with your lover, your true love, Mark, you can finally share a baby together.

Mark whispers to you. “ I’m still processing the fact that we are going to be parents after so long of trying. Endless fails until now.”

You close your eyes bringing your husband into an embrace where you bury your face in his shoulder lovingly holding each other by the Christmas tree behind your interlock bodies. “It doesn’t matter how many tries we did, Mark, as long as i have you and the baby i feel like we succeeded.”

“I love you, this is our miracle.” He smiles at your words brushing his hands behind your hair stroking it. You murmur. “I love you too.”

Miracles do happen.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

@onyourhyuck please refer from translating copyrighting and plagiarising my work thank you! REBLOG THIS POST TO SHOW LOVE AND FOLLOW ME FOR MORE FANFICS IF YOU ENJOYED<3

[anthurak]

Hi asking this unironically but for your Raven is actually Ruby’s other parent w/ Summer have you given any thought to how Ruby is literally conceived? Are we talking IVF or some other form of assisted reproductive technology? Is summer trans? (Based)

So I've touched on this a few times already in a number of my Rosebird Parents theory posts, but what it boils down to is that I feel the specific 'mechanics' of how Ruby was conceived aren't actually all that important. This is a modern/near-future high-fantasy setting after all, so there are any number of means the writers could use to explain Summer and Raven conceiving Ruby.

One particular note I will mention that I've brought up elsewhere is that I do think it's safe to assume that Summer was probably the one who got pregnant, as that both simplifies Raven staying away from the team and also gives Summer much better plausible deniability as to who Ruby's 'father' is, especially if Qrow is not meant to know (for sure at least) that Raven is Ruby's other parent.

As far as any personal favorite ideas that I would be hoping for, I will say I do really like the idea of Summer and Raven conceiving Ruby via magic. Simply because the whole 'hero born through some weird/mystical/magical pregnancy' is such a classic folklore and mythology trope that it feels only natural that RWBY would do a take on it at some point. And who better to explore it with then their main heroine?

[themysticaldrumstick]

I've got a question:

If we were in a gay relationship with Ellie/Elliot... Who is our son related to biologically? Because this IF seems to be an slice of life in the real world, rather than in an ultra scifi or urban fantasy one where same-sex reproduction is possible. Is the son adopted, or was he conceived in vitro? Or would you leave it nebulous on purpose?

The whole thing came to me after the question I made about MC's possible heights. Because I was amusing myself thinking about how the son would be glad to have MC's genetics if MC is 6'7 or more (for how advantageous it could be for basketball), only to remember I'm very gay and I was going to play as a man who dates men exclusively. So, things got complicated.

On one hand, it could give more of a possible reason to approach Ellie/Elliot more. After all, our son may be related to only one of us, but we love him so much no matter what and do everything for his well-being and happiness. And it could make either Ellie/Elliot or MC feel more fond about the other because they continued being a parent, even though it could be possible, in theory, to remove themselves from the situation (although, I think this may not be so much the case if the divorce happened once the son was older).

And for the sapphics, it also gives a special thing where maybe one gave the egg and the other carried the baby.

I don't know, there are plenty of choices to regards to what to do with this. But, I feel it's a lot to put in front of you and then find a way to write it/code it when it doesn't have that much relevance to the story. On the other hand, it would also feel a bit unfair for straight/bi players with a straight route to not have this level of nuance, unless you also included the in vitro option for them (just with a different justification).

Easier would be, methinks, to just say the son is adopted when it comes to gay couples (and make this an option for straight ones). Or just don't discuss it at all, frankly.

Maybe I'm just thinking way too much about something that, ultimately, does not matter for your IF and is more of an unnecessary distraction. Alas, that will be for you to decide, dear author.

Oh my god, get ready for this massive ass rant of mine. You do not know how much I've prepared for this day.

*Cracks knuckles*

So, basically. I'm putting out the option for the birth of your son at your behest-- you can choose whether it was straight up the usual, IVF, surrogate, etc. You should've seen my Google history because JESUS CHRIST, I've spent too much time decoding what works. In short, your son is always biological and is related to Ellie/Elliot's gene. The MC will have the option to assist via donors, or surrogates, depending on what you want.

There's layers to this.

Normal Natural Pregnancy, either on MC or, Ellie/Elliot's side. The female one will be undergoing the pregnancy.

If you're in a lesbian/non-binary couple/gay, MC can choose to carry their son(if possible) or choose a surrogate after an IVF.

Adoption will NOT be an option because your son needs to be biologically related for plot purposes.

Your son will always be related to Ellie/Elliot, as they will be the sperm/egg donor in case of the IVF route.

Let me know if I'm missing something because I'm half-asleep and uni is killing my soul. As for your son, they always look like E and have your personality, so.. hope that helped. I do understand how shitty my explanation was, so if you want to clear this, feel free to enquire.

Thanks for the ask! Glad you're enjoying the plot, so far.

[englishstrawbie]

Saw your prompt list. Could you do Marina “ you can talk to about anything, you know. “ please and thank you!

Maya leans against the door and watches her wife rock back and forth on her chair. The porch has become her favourite place to sit in the evenings, appreciating the cool breeze that eases the intensity of the summer heat. Even her Italian blood is struggling with the heatwave that currently scorches the city.

She sits with a book in her lap, unopened and ignored tonight, her eyes locked on the tree at the bottom of the garden. She has talked about building a treehouse for the child they are struggling to conceive. Tomorrow marks two weeks since their last round of IVF and Maya knows that she will be thinking about what the pregnancy test might show.

But it is not that which has made her so quiet this evening. Her silence can be attributed to the unexpected appearance of Vincenzo DeLuca two days ago.

He had turned up at Grey Sloan Memorial Hospital, as if it was perfectly normal for him to show up unannounced to see his daughter. There was no mention of the fact that he has been missing from her life over the last three years, that most of her calls and messages go unanswered, that he never calls on the anniversary of Andrew’s death, that last year he forgot her birthday.

He had taken them out for dinner, wanted to get to know Maya, been interested in her work and keen to see their new home – and then he had failed to show up to breakfast this morning. He had sent Carina a text just after lunch to explain that he had caught a flight to Los Angeles to meet with an old friend to discuss a research project he is developing.

And just like that, he is gone from her life again.

Maya steps out onto the porch, the wooden boards creaking under her feet and catching Carina’s attention. She turns her head and smiles at Maya as she pulls the second chair closer and sits down beside her.

“You doing okay?”

Carina nods, although her eyes give away her sadness. Maya reaches out and takes her hand.

“Maybe he’ll do better at keeping in touch now,” Maya says, trying to be positive.

Carina scoffs and Maya knows it is futile trying to make her feel better.

“I just…” Carina trails off.

“What?” Maya prompts.

Carina shakes her head. “Nothing.”

“Hey,” Maya says, squeezing her hand gently, “you can talk to me about anything, you know.”

“I know, bambina,” Carina says. “It’s just… I’m scared that, if we have children…”

“When we have children,” Maya interjects.

Carina smiles. “…when we have children…” She pauses to take a long, shaky breath. “I’m going to be like him.”

“No,” Maya says immediately. “You don’t have the markers, you have regular catch ups with Doctor Cole. We would know by now.” She turns in her seat. “And even if it did happen, you would get treated and we’d manage it. You wouldn’t be like your dad in any way.”

“No, Maya, that’s not what scares me,” Carina says.

Maya frowns, confused. “Then what is it?”

“What if the way he was as a dad wasn’t because of his bipolar? Maybe he’s just a crappy father who doesn’t know how to love his children,” Carina says.

A tear falls down her cheek and she wipes it away with the back of her hand.

“What if my brain is wired the same way and I…”

“…don’t know how to love our child?” Maya finishes the question for her. “Oh, honey, I know that that is never going to happen.”

“How?”

“Because our baby isn’t even here yet and you already love them so much.” She drops her hand to Carina’s stomach. “And maybe – hopefully – our baby is in here, or maybe we have to be patient a little longer, but whenever he or she or they get here, you are going to be the best mom in the world.”

Carina wraps her hand around Maya’s, more tears falling but she doesn’t bother to hide them.

“Okay?” Maya says, as sternly as she can.

“Okay,” Carina says. She leans forward and embraces Maya in a kiss. “Although I think you might give me a chase for my money.”

Maya chuckles and runs the back of her hand across her wife’s cheek.

“Whatever happens tomorrow, it’s going to be okay,” Maya says softly. “We’re in this together, right?”

“Si… together.”

Romantic moment prompts

Thank you, Anon, for such a polite message! I hope you like what I did with it.

[bitingcurbs]

ive been curious about why i experience nonhumanity physically, and i've come to the conclusion i can trace it to my conception and birth. extremely personal; tw medical trauma (?)

i was conceived via IVF- my mom had too much testosterone to conceive naturally. normal pregnancy from her description. but my birth was highly traumatic for both of us. i was supposed to be born naturally, but was removed via c-section after 13 hours of labor. we were both about to die from pneumonia and the trauma.

i have a younger brother too. he's nonequid. he was conceived naturally, removed cesarean. he is a furry, but human. my human dna comes back with relation to both parents, is one of them equine? i don't think so. whatever happened, only happened to me.

have i experienced numerous traumas that could influence my nonhumanity since then? absolutely and those DO play a part. but not in how i physically experience it. something happened in the IVF stage... unseen by the eye.

[impossiblesuitcase]

I have a few ideas for how Kai and cinder find out that she is pregnant the third time (which I don’t think was super planned) either 1. Their oldest who is about kindergarten age randomly comes up to cinder one day and is like “mama do you have a baby in your tummy again?” And cinder like “what? No of course not” well about a week and a test later turns out she was wrong. Or 2. One day in the evening they are sitting in bed together and Kai goes “can I tell you something? I think you’re pregnant.” “What??? What does that mean? You THINK I’m pregnant??” Long story short other people can tell when she’s pregnant even when she cant

I love both of your ideas! I also headcanon that their third isn't quite planned.

My idea runs off the infertility theme I have going. So after Cinder and Kai have their 2nd child, Kai's fertility is pretty low and their doctors say that it's essentially impossible they will ever conceive without IVF. Cinder decides to stop using birth control because it's messing with her hormones. She and Kai of course know that she could fall pregnant, and Kai says that would be the best outcome. But they doubt it will happen. Their youngest is about a year old, so they decide they'll wait awhile before having the procedure for a third.

Flash forward several months, Iko keeps bugging Cinder to take a pregnancy test. Cinder dismisses her because she feels fine, and sure, she hasn't had a period in a few months, but her doctor assured her that her body would take a while to reset after stopping birth control. And her pregnancy symptoms were so intense with the first two, and now she feels fine! It's nothing.

Oh, it's something.

I don't quite know how she finds out, either one of your two ways would fit there. Anyway, she finds out she's pregnant, is completely shocked. Kai finds out, is completely shocked. Then they are both shocked when her doctor says, "right, so you're just about to enter your 2nd trimester."

Classic case of "I didn't know I was pregnant". Cinder feels like the pregnancy was only 6 months, because she didn't even realise for the first three 😂. They are of course thrilled, although nervous because of the small age gap between the youngest two and how sleep deprived they'll be. So while this baby was a surprise, it wasn't necessarily 'unplanned'. And Cinder has much milder symptoms, which she is very happy about.

[txemrn]

Wounded

Book: TRR/TRH Post-series

Pairing: Liam Rys x MC (Riley Brooks-Rys)

Word count: ~2500

Song Inspo: "Wounded" - Maddie Wilson

Warning: for mature audience only; the TW are the plot twists in this story; if you are not sure if you want to read this and/or you are a fairly sensitive reader (nothing wrong with that!), scroll to the very end of this post (right above the tags) for a more specific list of TW

A/N: I am SUPER pumped to be participating in week 9 of @choicesflashfics prompt challenge! I chose prompt #3: “I don’t know what I thought was going to happen, but this was definitely not it.” The prompt will be in bold.

A/N 2: Most of the characters and some of the plot points belong to our friends at Pixelberry; HUGE thanks to my dear friend (and birthday girl) @sfb123 for pre-reading this for me. Please excuse my errors! Also, if you are curious about Royal Roulette: it's a fun little challenge you can do anytime for yourself! Take your music and hit mix! Take the first song that pops up, and use it as a muse for a fic! No need to credit me, but do tag me if you do it because I LOVE reading other RR!

~🖤~

(Present)

It's just past 8PM, and I find myself in the tiled coffin of my personal sanctuary: my shower. The balmy steam hides the evidence of my swollen, tear-stained cheeks, my own words replaced by wails of mercy. The sweltering water stings across my porcelain skin, the unbearable discomfort distracting from the emptiness, the nothingness of my shattered, lifeless heart.

Today. Of all days, why today?

If only my body didn't complicate things... 

If only my body did what it was supposed to do…

If only my body did what I was crowned to do…

Liam and I have spent over six years testing every last inch of my body for an answer. The simple answer is polycystic ovarian syndrome… if only life were that simple…

------

(Yesterday)

"PCOS isn't what it used to be, though. There are so many women living with it–myself included!" Savannah takes another bite of cake, and I've never been more grateful in all my life for the reprieve from her voice. This is my fourth time hearing this speech about PCOS, and how the diagnosis is taken 'too seriously'. I mean, afterall, we are at her baby shower for Beaumont baby number two. And three. "They gave me the same talk, blah blah blah, percent this and that, and after taking Clomid for only two months," she smiles joyfully, massaging her rounded belly.

I fake a smile, shoveling some fruit salad in my mouth in hopes of keeping my sharp tongue quiet. I'm happy for her; I really am. .

But she's also never lost a baby. Or three.

Two months? 'Only' two months? God…

Liam and I have been prescribed every drug on the market to conceive; we've even tried more natural, holistic remedies, like crushed up superfoods and tree roots, tiny needles being stuck in my eyelids and in between my toes, religious relics and crystals

God, if you've never experienced humility before, the struggle with infertility will strip you bare of any pride left in your body, and after six different specialists, we finally resorted to my biggest–our biggest fear: in vitro fertilization.

But, IVF might actually be the answer to our infertility story.

As Savannah answers more intrusive pregnancy questions about her own body from our close family and friends, my mind disengages. Shielding the bright sun from my eyes, I look across the palace's heavily-decorated back lawn. Soft petal pink and pearl-colored balloons litter the divine scenery.  Signage that boasts kitschy baby phrases seem to be multiplying before my eyes. 

I feel a sudden shift in the atmosphere, one that is making me feel– I don't know… funny? I don't feel like myself. In fact, I'm starting to feel slightly ill.

An abrupt piercing shrill of pressure shoots through my temples as my breathing quickens. A trickle of sweat courses down my back as everything begins to spin wildly around me. The laughter of the group of women I'm with becomes sinister and terrifying.  

I need to get out of here…

"What an exquisite group of lovely ladies!"  

Leo Rys, my ever-charming, newly-divorced brother-in-law. He is well-trained in managing a crowd, but the heart-throb is a master at wooing a very specific demographic: women. 

Case in point. 

"Sav," he tenderly takes her hand in his, "you look absolutely radiant. Where is that foolish husband of yours, leaving your beautiful self alone–" he slows down his flirting rampage, and I instantly look up, making contact with those familiar Rys crystal-blue eyes. He mouths, 'Are you okay?' before taking out his phone, no doubt to text Liam. "'Scuse me, ladies," Leo nods with a forced, jubilant grin. 

With a skip in his step, my brother-in-law takes a knee while placing a tender touch on my clammy arm. "You're looking a little green there, sis," his lips curl softly as he pushes back my careless wisps.

"Kermit the Frog did warn us that it's not easy being green,'' I chuckle. The vibrations of my voice soothe my slightly queasy stomach. I relax further into my chair, fanning myself as I pull my oversize sunglasses over my eyes. "I'm fine," I grin cheekily, welcoming a sudden cool breeze over my skin.

His phone chimes. "Eh… negatory," he snickers under his breath, holding out his hand for me to take it. "The queen has been summoned to his majesty's presence." 

Damnit, what did he say to him?

"You better not be making my husband worry about me–"

"Someone needs to keep an eye on your bad self," Leo jokingly winks. "C'mon."

And maybe it was a good thing for me to get away from those women, to get away from this party and out of the sun. I do have a lot on my mind as well–too much actually. Enough to make anyone unwell. 

I hate exiting groups earlier than expected.  I just… I just know the inevitable will happen when I leave: they will talk about Liam and me. Worse, they will look at us as if… as if we're wounded.

Gone are the days of hailing us as the 'it' couple… 

Gone are the days of discussing our bright future…

Gosh, I really don't feel all too well as I stand up with Leo's assistance, but we make it inside the palace to a secluded sunroom. Bracing myself, I ease into a lounge chair while Leo helps me prop up my feet.

He really is a kind man, much like Liam. I hope he knows how much his return to Cordonia has meant to us as a family, especially his brother. Sure, we have staff that can help us with the countless doctor's appointments and emergency trips to the hospital, but these are intimate times that should be spent with family. And I'm glad it's with Leo.

"Are you okay, love?"  Liam appears at the opposite end of the quarters. Worry is etched across his face as he slowly saunters to my side. "I got here as soon as I–"

I wave my hands in the air. "I'm fine, babe. I think I just got a little overheated," I playfully roll my eyes. 

He lets out a slow exhale, wiping the perspiration off of my forehead. "You know better–"

"I know, I know," I raise my hands in surrender as he kisses my head. He's always watching me closely, so carefully, especially with so many hormones pumping through my veins.

"I'll leave you two alone," Leo clicks his tongue as he casually shoves his fists into his khaki shorts. "Text me."

Liam stops him, leaning in closely to whisper, "Grab us some seltzers please. And crackers." Leo nods as Liam makes himself comfortable next to me. 

I sit up, adjusting the pillows around my husband before I quickly find the crook of his arm. My crook. By the time I am settled, my gaze is happily met by his.

God, I love him. 

Even after all of this time, he still looks at me like I'm the only woman in the room. He doesn't see my shortcomings as a wife or as a queen. He sees me… and still loves me. 

I study his face, counting the fine lines around his eyes. He's beautiful, but this has taken quite the toll on us, aging us both. I reach up to caress the perfectly smooth skin of his jaw, my thumb tracing over his dry lips.

He pulls my hand from his face, peppering the inside of my wrist with sweet kisses. He finally rests my palm on his chest, weaving his finger through mine. 

I hate that it takes loss to make us appreciate life more, but watching each rise and fall of our hands reminds me that right now, in this moment, we have each other. And each heartbeat, each breath is to be cherished.

Suddenly, we hear a voice clear behind us. "Are you not well, your majesty?"  Gretchen, our part-time nurse, carries a tray of snacks and seltzers into the sunroom.

"Oh, Ms. Gretchen," I quickly wipe away my tears, brightening to her approach. "We're fine." 

She is an older woman who actually helped care for Liam's mother in her pregnancies, and also for his father in the end. Liam trusts her, and he thought hiring her would be immensely helpful to us right now. 

And he was right; she's been a perfect angel. I don't know what I would've done without her help.

"Leo told me what happened." She pulls up an end table, setting the wooden tray down. "It’s too early for your medicine, but I figured some refreshing snacks might be in order."

"Mmmm," I hum with approval as Liam helps me sit up. "This looks absolutely perfect. Thank you."

Gretchen kindly bows before excusing herself.

I grab a piece of toast, spreading some fresh apple-butter on top. "Have you eaten today?" I pass him a ginger ale as I take a sip of my drink. 

I abruptly stop fumbling with the tray when I feel his steely-stare boring holes into me. I glance once, then twice as I watch a large Cheshire grin crawl across his mouth.

"What?" I chuckle as I take a bite of my toast. "You have trouble written all over that face."

He wiggles his eyebrows as he pulls me safely back into his arms, our lips instantly meeting. His tongue swipes eagerly in my mouth. "Baby!" I squeal, pushing back from him as I wipe the corners of my mouth.

He snickers, swiping his thumb across his lips before sucking on it. "Mmmm," he quietly moans, "just what I thought."  I raise my eyebrows in curiosity. "That's the best damn apple-butter I've ever tasted." He tenderly squeezes my bottom as I claim his lips again. And again.

I love this man.

I rest my head back on his chest, listening to the deep thrumming of his heart. My home. We lay in perfect silence, watching the shadows shift throughout the afternoon glow.

But as the sun sinks lower into the earth, I feel my body cling tighter to Liam.

"What are you thinking?" he whispers gravelly.

Damn him. He knows me too well. I reposition myself, sitting up on my side. My eyes begin to sting as tears threaten to fall.  I grip his shirt as his fingertips lightly trace the freckles on the back of my arm.

"About tomorrow," I quietly exhale.

"The doctor's appointment?" He drops his hands to my lower abdomen, giving it a hopeful caress.

Overwhelmed with emotion, I can only nod my head, my breath hitching in my chest as I nuzzle into his shoulder.  

Damnit, why us? 

"Riley," he croons, enveloping his arms around me. His fingertips become lost in my waves as his lips press intimately against the shell of my ear.

"I–I'm so scared, baby," I whisper, my voice rattled with hoarseness as I wrap my arms around him.

"Shhh," he pulls me closer.  He gently rocks my body, a hand tracing soft figure-eights across me back. "Me too."

------

It's early. Liam and I sit in the doctor's office, waiting for her to return with our test results so we can form the next plan of action for our family. 

I've been sick most of the morning, my nerves getting the best of me. But Liam remains steadfast, my rock. He's been reassuring me all morning, wiping my anxious tears away. He refuses to let go of my hand. 

A child needs a father like him; this can't be the end of our journey. It… it just can't be.

We hear a click, and Dr. Nguyen walks into the room with a thick file folder. I can't read her as she takes a seat, but suddenly, I see my husband's knee begin to anxiously bounce.

She finally makes eye contact with us, revealing her swollen, red eyes as if she's been crying for days. She clears her throat, dabbing at her cheeks. "Your majesties, I–" she stops to gain control of herself. “I don’t know what I thought was going to happen, but this was definitely not it.”

Her voice trails off as a subtle ringing forms in my ears, and suddenly, everything seems to be moving in slow motion. Liam let's go of my hand; he rests his elbows on his knees, burying his face in his hands.

I take a deep breath, shaking my head. What just happened? I've missed something. I frantically look between my husband and his oncologist. "I–I'm sorry. What?"

"I'm sorry, your majesty," she swallows back the lump in her throat having to deliver the news again. "The cancer? It–it didn't respond to the treatment. And from his scan last week, there are new spots on his kidneys, liver and lungs."

I blink a couple of times, feeling as though I don't know what all of this means. Because it can't possibly mean what I think she is saying.

He's not dying. He can't be dying…

"So," I swallow thickly, "you have a plan. Right?"

"Well," the physician folds her hands on the desk. "We… can… make him as comfortable as possible–"

"I'm sorry," I interrupt. "Are you–are you saying that my husband...?" I pause as I gasp for a morsel of air. "The love of my life is, that he... he's–?" I clamp my hand over my mouth. No, I can't-- I refuse to say it.

But through the blur of my tears, I see the truth.

She’s nodding.

------

(Present)

"Riley?"

I break from my thoughts as I turn towards the deep voice. There at the entrance to the shower towers the most handsome man I have ever seen… or will ever see. His golden curls have been gone for months; he and his best friends shaved their heads when he first started chemotherapy a year ago. His shoulders are still broad, but with his colon resection and loss of appetite, he's thinned out quite a bit.

He is weaker; his skin has weathered.  But he's still my Liam. Even in all of this, he remains my North Star, my hope and my strength.

Which is why I can't get out of the shower. Not yet.

He flashes me a crooked smile, handing me a towel. "C'mon, love," he turns off the shower.

I carefully stand up, wrapping the towel around my damp body.  Liam extends his large hand towards me, my petite grip finding his palm. He leads me out of the shower and twirls me into an embrace, my back against his chest.

He buries kisses into my hair and across my shoulders. "I need you," he lovingly growls.

Then he tenderly drops his hands to my growing, pregnant belly. "And I need you too, my little peanut."

My poor husband… how do I do this?

Without warning, a rush of agony roars around my 22-week abdomen, the abrupt sharp pain causing me to double-over. I grab onto the sink in front of me as I groan from the intense throbbing.

This can't be happening.

"Riley?" Liam steps out of the bathroom, and hollers down the hallway. "Leo! We need help!" He takes me back into his arms. "What is it? What's wrong?"

The pain subsides, and I begin to sob. I can't look at him. 

Today. Of all days, why today?

"Liam," I choke out , "my water broke."

~🖤~

TAGS (updated 09/2022; please let me know if you wish to be added/removed):

PERMA

@21-wishes @alj4890 @ao719 @charlotteg234 @issabees @kat-tia801 @kingliam2019 @mainstreetreader @mom2000aggie @neotericthemis @nikirennie87 @peonierose @socalwriterbee @tessa-liam

ALL TRR

@3pawandme @alyshak92 @iaminlovewithtrr @lovingchoices14 @malblk21 @rubiwalker @sfb123 @twinkleallnight

***

TRIGGER WARNINGS: discussion of infertility; discussion of cancer; insinuation of a major character death; miscarriage

***

[coochiequeens]

It is reasonable to think a man saying he wants to be a single father because he doesn’t want a relationship should prompt some investigation by someone expert in child welfare about his emotional capability to parent alone.“

Infertility can be deeply painful. There is a lot a compassionate society can – and should – do to make fertility treatment available to those who can be assisted to have a child with medical intervention. Few would disagree though that there are ethical boundaries to this, shaped by children’s interests, not just adult desires.

Last week, the Law Commission drove a coach and horses through that moral frontier – which it framed as an overdue modernisation of the law – by publishing draft proposals to reform the UK’s surrogacy framework. Implicit in them is the, I suspect controversial, assumption that a single man seeking to have a child alone through surrogacy, because he doesn’t want or can’t maintain a committed relationship, presents no greater moral quandary than a couple seeking IVF. How controversial is anyone’s guess: the Law Commission hasn’t canvassed public attitudes.

Surrogacy is the practice of a woman conceiving, gestating and giving birth to a baby – using her own or donor eggs – for another couple or individual who can’t do so themselves. The UK is one of few countries in which it is lawful. There are important safeguards intended to guard against exploitation: surrogates can only be compensated for reasonable expenses, to try to ensure their motivations are altruistic, not financial. The surrogate is legally the child’s mother until the intended parents are granted a parenting order by the family courts, if and only if they deem it is in the child’s best interests.

Surrogacy remains small-scale in the UK: just 300-400 orders are granted a year, limited by the number of women who want to become surrogates. But in countries like the US and Georgia, where commercial surrogacy is legal – where economically vulnerable women can be paid to carry a baby and surrogacy is governed by legally enforceable contracts that the UN special rapporteur on child exploitation says constitute the sale of children – it is bigger business. In contrast, the UK legal framework tolerates surrogacy but does not actively encourage it.

The Law Commission has recommended wholesale reform that makes the surrogacy process more akin to IVF. It proposes a new “pre-conception” pathway, governed by a surrogacy agreement, in which the intended parents automatically become the legal parents of the child at birth unless the surrogate withdraws consent before birth. The family courts will no longer oversee these arrangements unless the surrogate applies for a parental order in the first six weeks after birth. Instead, surrogacy will be pre-approved by surrogacy agencies, in the same way fertility clinics sign off on IVF. The commission makes sweeping – but unevidenced – claims that this is in the best interests of children and that because it reduces uncertainty, it will increase the amount of surrogacy that happens in the UK by discouraging people from making use of more exploitative regimes abroad.

There are some positive aspects to the proposals: tighter regulation of expense payments to avoid surrogacy being commercialised through the back door; everyone involved would have to undergo counselling. Children would have the right to access information about their surrogate in the same way as those conceived using donor sperm or eggs.

But in adopting a starting point that surrogacy is just another form of assisted conception, the Law Commission has gone beyond its remit. It reduces pregnancy to a process, a transactional exchange of body fluid between a woman and a foetus rather than a relationship between a mother and the life she is nurturing physically and emotionally, that there are ethical considerations involved in breaking at birth, regardless of the desires of the individual adults involved. It is for us as a society to decide whether we want the law to actively encourage rather than tolerate this, not for the Law Commission to make recommendations without even exploring public attitudes.

The Law Commission report is peppered with imagined case studies that invoke sympathy: straight couples where a woman can’t carry a pregnancy and gay male couples who see surrogacy as their only way to have a biological child. But a better ethical test is the men who openly say they want to become fathers through surrogacy because they would rather be single parents. There would be few barriers to them doing so.

This encapsulates the extent to which the Law Commission proposals are catering to the desires of adults with a vested interest in surrogacy – however valid their reasons – over and above child welfare. It proposes a light-touch welfare check as part of the pre-conception pathway, but this would rely in the main on potential parents self-declaring issues of concern and would be carried out by surrogacy agencies that though not-for-profit would still have an interest in making surrogacy happen; the Law Commission itself suggeststhat private fertility clinics can set up not-for-profit “arms” to act as surrogacy agencies. It explicitly declines to say that the person legally responsible for these checks should have knowledge or experience of child safeguarding. These surrogacy agencies would supposedly be regulated by the Human Fertilisation and Embryology Authority, which lacks meaningful expertise in child welfare. It is all jaw-droppingly naive.

The counter is that there are only light checks for women and couples conceiving through IVF and nothing for people who become parents naturally. But surrogacy is the only route through which a single man as a sole parent can create a biological child.

Gestation is a natural if not fail-safe form of safeguarding in a world where a minority of men are responsible for almost all physical and sexual violence and men on average pose a different risk to children than women. This isn’t to say some single men who want to go it alone might not make good fathers – single men can and do adopt successfully after robust welfare checks – but that it should be harder than getting signed off for IVF.

It is reasonable to think a man saying he wants to be a single father because he doesn’t want a relationship should prompt some investigation by someone expert in child welfare about his emotional capability to parent alone.

At the heart of the Law Commission proposals is the assumption that surrogacy should be made cleaner to the benefit of the adults involved. But surrogacy is inherently messy, uncertain and ethically complex, because no one has a claim to a baby they haven’t given birth to purely on the basis of genetics and pregnancy cannot be reduced to a transaction.

The Law Commission loftily calls for the government to “endorse these essential reforms”. But on an ethical issue such as this it is vital that politicians consult the public rather than taking direction from a legal body that has grossly overstepped its remit.

 Sonia Sodha is an Observer columnist

 This article was amended on 5 April 2023. In an earlier version the writer commented that the Human Fertilisation and Embryology Authority (HFEA) “has no expertise in child welfare”. This has been amended to “lacks meaningful expertise” to make clearer that, while the HFEA has a statutory function in overseeing “welfare of the child” assessments required of fertility clinics, this is the writer’s assessment of the agency’s overall expertise in child welfare and safeguarding. The name of the Human Fertilisation and Embryology Authority has also been corrected.

[bridgertonbabe]

Does Franscescas story also include miscarriage and infertility?

I would be interested to know how her infertility affects her relationship with her family and friends.

What about Michael? What are his emotions like? What is the wizard perspective of miscarriage and infertility?

Is any Magic involved in making lil'John and Janet?

Anon asked: How is infertility treated in the Wizarding world? How would fran and michael make a family?

*Trigger Warning: this post contains mentions of miscarriage.*

From a young age Francesca always knew she wanted to be a mother and though she briefly wondered if Michael wouldn't be the type of person to ever want kids, seeing just how much he loved doting on their nieces and nephews affirmed that he would one day be the world's best dad. But they still had years ahead of them to start a family and both were content to continue the tour life and enjoyed travelling the world together.

It wasn't until Eloise announced her pregnancy not too long after Penelope's that Francesca brought up the subject of starting a family with Michael. While Eloise had been a mother to Oliver and Amanda for nearing ten years, Francesca genuinely never expected her sister to want to go through a pregnancy herself and what's more she was shocked that Eloise of all people was going to have that experience before she did. She was relieved when Michael turned out to be on the exact same page as her, having felt flabbergasted that Colin was beating him to fatherhood; and so they decided to start trying right away.

After a couple of months Francesca did fall pregnant, however she miscarried after only a few weeks. While it was upsetting, Francesca tried to be pragmatic about it and persevere, assuring herself that miscarriages occur in 1 in 4 pregnancies and it shouldn't discourage her from trying again. However much to her frustration almost an entire year went by before she was able to wave a positive pregnancy test in front of Michael - but unfortunately it resulted in another miscarriage. In spite of the disappointment, Francesca remained determined to get pregnant and once again she and Michael began trying.

However another year went by, during which time Penelope and Eloise each welcomed another baby with relative ease. As happy as she was to meet her newest niece and nephew, Michael could see the hurt in Francesca's eyes when she held Thomas and Georgiana for the first time. He knew just how badly she wanted to be a mother and carry her own child and he was suffering not because of struggle to conceive a baby of their own but to see his wife suffering no matter how hard she tried hiding it.

He resolved to do everything in his power for them to be able to have a baby and took charge; booking fertility tests, looking into IVF, reading up on potions that were meant to increase the chances of carrying a pregnancy to term. He hoped by taking even one of those steps that they'd be on their way to having a baby; however the results of the fertility test revealed that they had a very low chance of ever conceiving a baby naturally. As crushing as it was, Michael refused to let the odds stand in the way of creating a family with Francesca. After contacting the best potion masters in the wizarding world he acquired specialist elixirs that should help them on their way to making a baby, which they took while simultaneously having their first round of IVF. Michael had been trying to keep positive for both himself and Francesca, willing on for all of their efforts to work; and yet both the potions and the IVF proved fruitless, and after three unsuccessful rounds Francesca declared she couldn't go through with another.

After that Francesca couldn't even bear to talk about it, despite Michael trying to get her to open up. He became desperate to try and find some alternative way of conceiving, to the point which he began grasping at straws and looking into dubious potions being sold in Knockturn Alley and even unlawful spells that supposedly might work a miracle. He gathered all the information that he could and presented it to Francesca in a last-ditch attempt to provide her with the one thing she longed for, however Francesca lashed out and firmly told him to stop because if none of the conventional methods worked for them there was no way in hell that any of the nefarious alternative routes would work either.

For the next week Francesca didn't utter a single word to him and a distraught Michael took to sleeping on the couch just to give her space. Then at a family birthday party at Aubrey Hollow, Gregory and Lucy revealed they were expecting their second child; and it turned out to be Francesca's breaking point. She excused herself from the festivities and went up to her old bedroom where she proceeded to cry her heart out. She jumped when there was a gentle knock and told Michael to leave her alone but she was surprised when the door opened to reveal Sophie instead.

Sophie didn't hesitate to rush to her sister-in-law's side, holding her tightly as Francesca cried on her shoulder and the younger woman released all the heartache she had been suffering from over the last three years. When she was no longer able to shed any more tears, she told Sophie all about her infertility struggles, how devastated she was to miscarry twice, and how much it hurt that none of the efforts they had gone to had worked.

"It's not fair." she shook her head. "Eloise never even wanted to be pregnant. Since we were kids she always said she couldn't stand the thought of having a baby bump, and she always joked that getting together with Phil was a win-win because she had Oliver and Amanda without the aches and pains of pregnancy and childbirth; but then she still went on to have Penny and Georgiana like it was nothing." she vented, expressing all the underlying ugly bitterness that had built up inside of her over the years. "And then there's Daphne; popping out four kids in four years with barely any time in between to breathe. And don't get me started on Hyacinth having kids before me - and now Greg's having another baby; I mean, they're still just kids to me and they're already parents and I'm not... and probably never will be." she swallowed and looked away as soon as she saw Sophie tilting her head sympathetically at her. "It's just not fair. How come it's so easy for everyone else?"

Sophie's hand clutched hers as she tucked a loose lock behind Francesca's ear. "I miscarried." she uttered and Francesca snapped her neck to look at her. "Twice."

"Really?" Francesca gulped, stunned to hear that Sophie had experienced the same agony as she had.

"The first one I tried to forget about. It would have been a honeymoon baby and I miscarried early on. I didn't even know I was pregnant until the doctors told me. I couldn't believe it and I felt guilty for not even realising and for miscarrying in the first place. But I shrugged it off and told myself it would have been way worse if we had actually been trying and I had known and celebrated the fact that I was."

"What about the second time?" Francesca asked tentatively and squeezed Sophie's hand, communicating that she could take her time as she was sharing such a vulnerable time in her life.

"We had been trying. And we were so thrilled." Sophie explained and wore a sad smile as she continued. "We agreed we'd wait until the 12 week scan before we told anyone and after everything seemed alright we decided to announce it at Violet's birthday a few days later. But then when I was at work I suddenly experienced cramping... and I knew." she exhaled. "I knew I was losing the baby. Your dad took me to the hospital and called Benedict but by the time he got there the baby was gone. And I felt like my whole world had come crashing down. We begged Edmund not to breathe a word about it. I couldn't stand the thought of Violet or Daphne or Kate or Posy coming over to sympathise. I couldn't bear the thought of anyone who had only experienced successful pregnancies to be around me. And then at your mum's birthday someone passed Miles into my arms and I still don't know how I didn't break right then and there. Do you know what I did instead?"

"What?"

"I ran up to Ben's old room and burst into tears." she revealed, and Francesca's heart thumped emphatically; as heart-wrenching as it was to hear about Sophie's losses, she took comfort that she had done the exact same thing she had done by fleeing to an old bedroom to break down in private. "It was killing me to be around everyone else's babies without being able to call any of them my own."

"That's exactly how I feel." Francesca commiserated. "It's how I've felt for the last three years now. And I hate being this self-pitying jealous-ridden bitter cow. I don't want to feel so angry and sad without any let up... but I don't know what else to do."

"I can't imagine what the last three years must have felt like for you. And I know there's nothing I can say or do to ease your pain. But it's okay to feel everything that you're feeling. Don't let yourself feel bad for those negative feelings and don't be so hard on yourself for not being able to conceive. I know it's easier said than done but you've got to go easy on yourself; for your own sake."

Francesca nodded, knowing Sophie was right, and realising just how exhausting keeping all her emotions to herself was.

"How did it finally happen for you in the end? Did you have Charlie through IVF, or...?"

"We were prepared to try if it came to that." Sophie answered. "But when I was ready to try again we just took it easy. We didn't put pressure on ourselves to be fervently trying. We treated it as more of a let's just wait and see, and if it happens it happens and if it doesn't then we'll give fertility treatments a go. I let go of any expectations and just cherished being with Ben, and then a few months later we found out we were expecting and we had Charlie."

"The doctors said there's a very low chance of us ever conceiving naturally." Francesca uttered. "As much as I'd like to think that just going with the flow could work,"

"But they still said there's a chance." Sophie pointed out. "As low as it might be; there's still the possibility it could happen. I know you've been through so much disappointment and must feel so dispirited; but hold onto that hope. No matter how small it might seem."

After the sisterly heart-to-heart, when they returned home Francesca apologised to Michael for how she had treated him in the last week. It was an apology Michael assured her was unnecessary and he understood how soul-crushing the last three years had been; he was just sorry he couldn't provide her with the one thing she wanted more than anything else. She told him about her talk with Sophie and how they should give it one more year before looking into adoption, but in the meantime they could try without really trying.

And so they chose to let go of all of the heavy expectations that had built up and they had put upon themselves and accepted that conceiving a baby might not happen for them, but not letting that stop them from cherishing each other and getting in the way of their love... and just like that, one year later they welcomed their beautiful baby son, John.

[lindyloosims]

Serenity gave birth to her twin boys, Cash and Jax Lopez. She also took the kittens off of our hands...

...however they're not kittens anymore! I know that she'll take good care of them. She wanted a pet each for her boys so my furry boys will do the trick!

Now that Claire is almost a toddler, Kacey has opted for some fertility treatment to see if we can conceive our next baby naturally. We'll see how that goes.

Speaking of little Clairey, despite her developmental issues she has managed to achieve a few milestones. She can sit up and scoot, she can also blow bubbly spit at us which is cute!

Heidi and I watched some weird sci-fi movie together, it freaked me out more than it did her!

HEIDI: Dad do you have to shovel your food in like that?

ZAC: I hope you never get the glutton trait sweetie, it's a curse!

As Claire takes her last nap as an infant...

...Kacey takes a pregnancy test after another round of IVF, we can't conceive naturally no matter what we try, and it's positive! We're having baby number three!

⏮️Previous/Next⏭️

[whentherewerebicycles]

gotta be honest I felt real bad for most of the day yesterday but gosh it’s so nice to be able to swing by my bff’s house after work to eat thai leftovers together and go grocery shopping and cackle a lot. my overall quality of life is about to skyrocket and I just still can’t believe I got so lucky.

I feel a little better today, probably because I’ve switched into planning mode and feel a little more in control of my life again. I think I am going to move forward with IVF abroad (though in the meantime I might go through a couple more IUI cycles to use up the donor sperm I still have in storage). more thinking aloud under the cut… sorry I just have to process everything out loud.

I know many people do IUI or try to conceive naturally for a long time and there might be some wisdom in continuing to try the lower-tech option for a while longer. however, I feel like I need to consider the following things:

I only have one fallopian tube now. it’s still possible for me to get pregnant via IUI, but after reading a bunch of articles I’m not sure that the “having only one tube doesn’t affect your chances!” messaging online is true. I can still get pregnant, but it seems like my time to conception will almost certainly be extended by quite a bit.

I need to weigh the practical costs. if I try IUI for six more months, that’s at least $15k, which is almost twice what an IVF cycle abroad would cost me.

I need to weigh the emotional costs. the IUI failures were tough but I could weather them and I could’ve probably kept going if that last cycle had failed. but the ectopic pregnancy was just devastating and I still feel like I am in a place of lowgrade anguish about it. could I keep going with IUI? yes, if I had to. but I also don’t have to use “could I force myself to endure a very painful emotional experience if I had to” or “have other people endured this painful experience in the past” as my criteria for making this decision. I don’t have to compare myself to other people or make choices based on the level of despair I think I can endure. I can make the ‘selfish’ decision that prioritizes my needs right now, because it’s my money, my time, my life, my heart.

I just really, really, really want to give myself a good shot at being pregnant before my SIL gives birth in March. I would love for our kids to be the same age and I also think that would line me up better with liz & A’s timeline.

obviously I would just be over the moon to have even one baby!!!! but in my ideal world I’d be able to have two kids a couple years apart. and if that is my goal, the time pressure is real. if I got pregnant at 34 I’d give birth at 35 and probably wouldn’t begin the process again until 37, at which point it would be even harder than it is now. if I’m very lucky, IVF might also give me the chance to freeze embryos while my eggs are a little younger.

after a lot of research, I think finding a clinic in Mexico makes the most sense for me. it’s a little more expensive than some of the European clinics, but here are the benefits:

I can book direct flights on points

most flights are under 4 hours (compared to 14-15 hours to europe). so it’ll be easier to get there and back if I have to return for future transfers or egg retrievals—like, I could fly down over a long weekend instead of having to plan around major holiday breaks when I have more time off. I think this will put much less weight on each individual try, as opposed to doing it in Europe where a failed cycle would likely mean having to wait 6+ months until I could accrue enough PTO to go again.

I can arrange to work remotely some or all of the time I have to be in-country since I’ll be in the same timezone

no one is going to make this decision for me or give me permission to do it—I have to be the one to decide to move forward. so I’m deciding. this week I will reach out to 5-6 clinics to schedule initial consultations. I’m not sure how long the waiting period is but man it would be great to be able to schedule something for the fall. I think if I had a date on the calendar, even if it’s a ways out, I could focus my energy on diet/exercise/sleep/overall emotional well-being and just, idk, feel like I was moving towards a goal instead of drifting in time like I am now. if I want this I just gotta get moving. and if it doesn’t pan out I can grieve and shift my focus to other routes to parenthood, but I think I’m far enough down this road that I have to exhaust my options first before I’ll be able to let go of this dream and move on.