#is ivf treatment painful
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artfertilityclinicsposts · 1 year ago
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Navigating IVF: Exploring the Pain Factor and Success Rates
Are you considering the journey through In Vitro Fertilization (IVF)? If so, you're not alone. The path to parenthood can sometimes take unexpected turns, and IVF has become a beacon of hope for many couples facing fertility challenges. In this comprehensive guide, we'll delve into the world of IVF, addressing common concerns such as whether IVF is painful, the success rates associated with it, and why some IVF attempts fail. Join us on this informative journey as we navigate the maze of IVF, shedding light on its complexities, benefits, and potential roadblocks.
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Understanding IVF: A Brief Overview
Before we delve into the pain factor and success rates of IVF, let's first grasp the fundamentals of this reproductive technology. IVF, or In Vitro Fertilization, is a medical procedure designed to help individuals and couples overcome infertility. It involves the fertilization of an egg with sperm outside the body, followed by the transfer of the resulting embryo into the uterus.
Is IVF Painful? Unveiling the Truth
One of the most common concerns people have about IVF is whether it's painful. The truth is, the experience can vary from person to person, but it's essential to manage expectations.
Understanding the Discomfort
IVF does involve certain discomforts. For instance, the fertility medications administered to stimulate egg production can lead to bloating and mild abdominal discomfort. However, these sensations are generally manageable and temporary.
The Procedure Itself
During the egg retrieval and embryo transfer procedures, you'll receive anesthesia to minimize discomfort. Most patients report feeling little to no pain during these critical stages.
Benefits of IVF Treatment
While the process may seem daunting, IVF offers numerous benefits that make it a viable option for many individuals and couples.
Higher Chances of Conception
IVF significantly increases the chances of conception, especially for those with underlying fertility issues. It can be a lifeline for those who have struggled with infertility for an extended period.
Control and Flexibility
IVF allows you to have better control over the timing of conception. This can be especially helpful if you have busy schedules or medical reasons that require precise timing.
Understanding IVF Success Rates
Now, let's shift our focus to the critical aspect of IVF success rates. These rates are influenced by various factors and can vary from one IVF clinic to another.
Age Matters
A crucial factor affecting IVF success is age. Younger individuals typically have higher success rates, as the quality and quantity of eggs tend to decline with age.
Clinic Expertise
Choosing the right IVF clinic is vital. Reputable clinics, like ART Fertility Clinic, often have higher success rates due to their experienced staff and state-of-the-art facilities.
Previous Failed Attempts
The number of previous IVF attempts can impact success rates. After failed attempts, the chances of success may decrease, but they are not eliminated.
Why Does IVF Fail?
Facing IVF failure can be disheartening, but it's essential to understand why it happens. Several factors can contribute to unsuccessful IVF cycles.
Embryo Quality
Sometimes, the quality of embryos may not be optimal, making it difficult for them to implant successfully in the uterus.
Uterine Issues
Uterine problems, such as fibroids or polyps, can hinder implantation, leading to IVF failure.
Hormonal Imbalances
Imbalances in hormones crucial for implantation can affect the success of IVF.
Navigating the Emotional Rollercoaster
Embarking on the IVF journey can be an emotional rollercoaster. It's essential to acknowledge the emotional challenges and seek support when needed.
Seeking Support
Don't hesitate to lean on your partner, friends, or a support group. Sharing your feelings and experiences can be incredibly therapeutic.
Staying Positive
Maintaining a positive outlook can make a significant difference. Remember, each IVF cycle is a step forward, regardless of the outcome.
The Role of ART Fertility Clinic
If you're considering IVF, choosing the right clinic is paramount. ART Fertility Clinic, with its reputation for excellence and a dedicated team of specialists, is a beacon of hope for many seeking fertility solutions.
Experience and Expertise
The clinic's experienced professionals are well-versed in the latest advancements in fertility treatments, ensuring the best possible care for patients.
State-of-the-Art Facilities
ART Fertility Clinic boasts state-of-the-art facilities, equipped with cutting-edge technology to maximize your chances of success.
Final Thoughts
Embarking on the IVF journey can be both perplexing and emotionally taxing, but it's also a journey filled with hope and potential. While the question of whether IVF is painful may concern you, rest assured that discomfort is manageable, and the benefits can be life-changing. Success rates may vary, but with the right clinic and support system, your dreams of parenthood can become a reality. Remember, at ART Fertility Clinic, we're here to guide you every step of the way, offering hope and support on your path to parenthood.
Navigating IVF is a complex yet rewarding journey, and your dedication and perseverance are the keys to unlocking its potential.
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gaudiumivf · 10 months ago
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Understanding Period Pain: Causes, Symptoms, and Management
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Introduction:
Period pain, commonly known as menstrual cramps or Dysmenorrhea, is a prevalent gynecological condition characterized by painful menstruation. It affects individuals of reproductive age and can significantly impact daily activities and quality of life. With Gaudium IVF, the best IVF center in Mumbai we will understand the causes, symptoms, and management strategies for Period pain.
Types of Period pain:
1. Primary Dysmenorrhea: Primary dysmenorrhea occurs without any underlying reproductive disorders and typically begins within a few years of the onset of menstruation. It is caused by increased levels of prostaglandins, hormone-like substances that promote uterine contractions, leading to cramping pain. 2. SecondaryDysmenorrhea: Secondary Dysmenorrhea associated with underlying medical conditions such as endometriosis, adenomyosis, pelvic inflammatory disease (PID), or uterine fibroids. The pain associated with secondary dysmenorrhea often worsens over time and may be accompanied by other symptoms such as abnormal bleeding or pelvic pain outside of menstruation.
Causes of Period pain:
1. Prostaglandin Release: During menstruation, the uterus produces prostaglandins, which trigger uterine muscle contractions to expel the uterine lining. Elevated levels of prostaglandins can lead to stronger and more painful contractions, resulting in Period pain. 2. Hormonal Imbalance: Fluctuations in hormone levels, particularly estrogen and progesterone, can contribute to Period pain. Imbalances in these hormones can affect the menstrual cycle and increase sensitivity to pain. 3. Underlying Reproductive Disorders: Conditions such as endometriosis, adenomyosis, pelvic inflammatory disease (PID), or uterine fibroids can cause secondary dysmenorrhea by affecting the structure and function of the reproductive organs. 4. Pelvic Congestion: Increased blood flow to the pelvic area during menstruation can lead to pelvic congestion, causing pressure and pain.
Symptoms of Period pain:
1. Cramping Pain: The hallmark symptom of dysmenorrhea is cramping pain in the lower abdomen that may radiate to the lower back and thighs. The pain can range from mild to severe and may interfere with daily activities. 2. Nausea and Vomiting: Some individuals with Period pain may experience nausea, vomiting, or diarrhea during menstruation, particularly when the pain is severe. 3. Fatigue: Period pain can cause fatigue and tiredness due to the body's response to pain and hormonal changes. 4. Headaches: Headaches or migraines may occur as a result of hormonal fluctuations and increased sensitivity to pain during menstruation.
Management of Period pain:
1. Over-the-Counter Medications: Non-steroidal anti-inflammatory drugs (NSAIDs) such as ibuprofen can help alleviate pain and inflammation associated with Period pain. These medications work by inhibiting prostaglandin production. 2. Heat Therapy: Applying heat to the lower abdomen or lower back can provide relief from menstrual cramps by relaxing the uterine muscles and reducing pain. 3. Exercise: Engaging in regular physical activity, such as walking, swimming, or yoga, can help reduce the severity of Period pain by promoting blood circulation. 4. Relaxation Techniques: Practicing relaxation techniques such as deep breathing or meditation can help alleviate stress and reduce muscle tension, providing relief from Period pain. 5. Hormonal Contraceptives: Hormonal contraceptives, including birth control pills or patches can help regulate menstrual cycles and reduce pain associated with Periods by suppressing ovulation and decreasing prostaglandin levels.
Conclusion: Period pain is a common gynecological condition characterized by painful menstruation that can significantly impact daily life. By understanding the causes, symptoms, and management strategies for Period pain, individuals can effectively alleviate pain and improve their quality of life during menstruation. It's essential to consult the best Infertility specialist in Mumbai for accurate diagnosis and personalized treatment recommendations tailored to individual needs and preferences. With the right approach, Period pain can be effectively managed, allowing individuals to live comfortably and confidently.
Source: https://fertilityivf.weebly.com/home/understanding-period-pain-causes-symptoms-and-management
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mani1986-blog · 10 months ago
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ENDOMETRIOSIS AND ITS EFFECTS ON FERTILITY
Endometriosis is a chronic and complex condition that significantly impacts the lives of many women, particularly in the realm of fertility. This condition occurs when tissue similar to the lining of the uterus starts to grow in other parts of the body, typically within the pelvic region. The repercussions of endometriosis on a woman's reproductive capabilities are multifaceted and profound, warranting a closer examination. Endometrial cells can grow on or within the ovaries and fallopian tubes. They may also attach to other pelvic organs, such as the bladder or intestine.  
Challenges in Diagnosis
One of the primary challenges in managing endometriosis is its diagnosis. The symptoms of endometriosis are often non-specific and can vary greatly among individuals, ranging from severe pelvic pain to no symptoms at all. Women with endometriosis may experience symptoms, such as: 
Pain - Discomfort is common during ovulation and menstruation, as well as during sexual intercourse
Stomach upset - Constipation, diarrhoea, and bloating are common during menstruation
Bleeding - Menstrual bleeding is common, and it can be heavy or irregular
Laparoscopy remains the gold standard for diagnosis, allowing direct visualization of endometrial implants. However, advancements in non-invasive imaging techniques, such as transvaginal ultrasound and magnetic resonance imaging (MRI), have enhanced the ability to suspect and diagnose endometriosis without surgery.
Endometriosis and Fertility
The impact of endometriosis on fertility is a major concern. Approximately 30-50% of women with endometriosis experience infertility. The condition can lead to the formation of cysts in the ovaries, known as endometriomas, and cause scarring and adhesions that distort the pelvic anatomy. This can interfere with the ovulation process, egg pick-up by the fallopian tubes, and embryo implantation. Endometriosis can also affect egg quality and lead to an inflammatory environment that is detrimental to sperm and embryo.
Treatment Approaches for Endometriosis-Related Infertility
Management of endometriosis-related infertility involves a multi-pronged approach. Pain management and control of endometriosis progression are the initial steps, often achieved through hormonal treatments like birth control pills or gonadotropin-releasing hormone (GnRH) agonists. However, for women trying to conceive, surgery to remove endometriotic lesions and adhesions may be recommended to improve fertility chances.
Assisted Reproductive Technologies
In cases where conservative management is ineffective, assisted reproductive technologies (ART) become crucial. In vitro fertilization (IVF) has been particularly beneficial for women with endometriosis, offering a higher chance of pregnancy. IVF bypasses many of the fertility issues caused by endometriosis, such as fallopian tube obstruction or impaired egg and sperm interaction. The psychological impact of endometriosis and infertility cannot be overstated. Women facing these issues often experience significant emotional distress, anxiety, and depression. Comprehensive care for endometriosis should, therefore, include psychological support and counseling.
Endometriosis: More than Pain, it's a Priority
Endometriosis is a major health problem that needs more resources and attention. People should stop thinking of endometriosis as just a source of pain and start seeing how it affects women's health and well-being in a bigger way. It calls for comprehensive care and research, stressing that understanding and treating endometriosis is important not only for easing pain but also for making the lives of millions of women around the world better. This is a step towards a future in which endometriosis is not only treated, but also understood and given maximum attention at all levels of medical care and study.
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endogirl30 · 10 months ago
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Diagnosis
it all began in 2021. After my first Covid jab- pain excruciating revited my body. I could not cope. I could barely move. I rang 111 and spoke to a lady on the phone. Who took down my details- I started being sick.
I took painkillers , curled up in a ball. And waited for the pain to ease. My first point of call was the GP. She referred me to the gynae department- I had been down this road before with no formal diagnosis.
it was frustrating. Back and forth and bring made to feel like it’s in your head.
I finally got an appointment after months of waiting. And was sent for an ultra scan of my pelvis and bloods. I mentioned about my mother having endometriosis, after years of painful periods but was basically told it would not be that. But after waiting yet again . Something was picked up in my womb. I was sent for ct/mri scans with contrast dye. This was the beginning of my endometriosis journey. The specialist apologised that it had taken ten years to diagnose. Through repeated referrals to gynea. I had a large endometrioma across my womb, that could potentially be cancer. Fibroids and organ sticking. I wouldn’t know if it was until they did a biopsy.
I was put on a waiting list for surgery. Given strong painkillers to help me cope with day to day. Screaming out in the back of my carers car and constantly running to the toilet. I had a long waiting time before my surgery. I tried to carry on, doing things day today with this side crushing pain. I was a carer for a relative who depended on me so had no choice but to carry on and that is what I did.
The First surgery
I went in the night before I could not eat after nine pm just water. I was scared. I had been feeling under weather with a sore throat.But I was told to still come in: I did a Covid swab it was negetive. I waited in the waiting room my slot was two pm. I was called -my friend was not allowed in the second waiting room. I went in with my bag. There were comfy seats. Males and females were awaiting appointments it was getting late and I had not eaten. I was called and went in to a small room. Where I spoke to the anaesthesiologist and the surgeon. They took my vitals, I told them about my sore throat. I was given a gown and special socks. And I waited to be called. I was helped with my bags. To the operating theatre. In which they were taken and I climbed onto the operating table.
I remember them putting the canula in my arm. I fell asleep straight away. When I awoke I was in pain. They gave me something I fell back to sleep until the next day. I won’t say much for hospital food. Porridge and some toast. And some tea. Then some lunch, I have IBS so certain foods set my stomach off I try to keep it very plain. But they had set meal plans and it was hard for them to give me something that I could eat. I found it hard to move and needed help to get up and go to the toilet. One incident happened that I was given a commode it had a hole in the urine went everywhere. And the nurse refused to get someone to clean it up. I asked for help from another member of staff who was more helpful. unfortunately, on the second day I came down with Covid and was moved into isolation. Things then went down hill I had sepsis. Could not eat for two days. I was on drips, and given antibiotics one of which I was allergic to and got a rash all over my body and given Piritin. And told to carry on.
It wasn’t always a great experience it was when the strikes were on. One Nurses refused to help patients that were not smiley enough. I had a Canuala left sticking out of my hand for a day. People were screaming to let them go home. It felt like a prison more than a ward. Eventually through encouragement. I ate and began to feel stronger. And two amazing nurses night and day helped me to get stronger.
I knew I wanted to leave the ward. I knew a needed fresh air, walks and a plain diet. And that would help me further. The doctors did bloods to check my infection levels. And made me promise I would still come in the following week for antibiotic injections which I promised. I was ready to go home.
Once home. I had ptsd. I kept thinking I was on the ward. Getting easily confused. I kept up my antibiotics, everyday at the hospital in urgent care. I was on strong antihistamines as was still in one of the antibiotics I was allergic to. I covered in a rash. I could not feel the heat. I felt freezing cold, and was itchy. I was given aloe Vera gel to help cool and camonmile lotion. I was told I had psoriasis rosea. I couldn’t use any products with alcohol as it stung. I went to the health food shop. I got caster oil. I spoke to them and drank nettle tea to clear the toxins. I drank dandelion tea to help clean the urine.
Eventually after a number of months it began to ease.
I took it day by day to build myself up and get myself back to full strength. This was my first operation there were still another two, to go. As I still had some of the tumour stuck to my right ovary. I would loose it next operation. So my next step to fight for funding from the NHS to freeze my eggs.
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figmentforms · 1 year ago
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I can’t update for a week or two. I really tried, but my IVF drugs are really interacting intensely with my brain and my body and all I can do is keep up with my self injections each day and suppress panic attacks by constantly distracting myself.
Good news is that, despite the fact that I constantly feel like a cat that has fallen into a bathtub of ice water and fire, the treatment is working (a little TOO WELL) so far and hopefully the egg retrieval surgery will happen a little sooner than expected and produce a big enough clutch of eggs that I NEVER have to do this again. 🙏🙏🙏🍀🍀🍀
Other Good news is that now I’m no longer terrified of needles. Now I’m just moderately frightened. That’s legit a win and I’m proud of that.😎😎😎😎💪
So in conclusion I HATE FEELING EVERY FEELING AT ONCE SO HARD I feel absolutely out of my freaking mind and I’m in pain and swollen and and I’m constantly freaking out and omg I can’t wait to get OFF this ‘journey’.
It’s ok to laugh at me because honestly i feel like this is so terrible it’s hilarious and laughing about it actually makes me feel better about it.
Love you all so much! Thank you all for your kindness🩷
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letters-to-lgbt-kids · 3 months ago
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My dear lgbt+ kids, 
Let’s talk about miscarriages. 
First of all, a simple definition: A miscarriage is when a pregnancy ends on its own before the baby can grow enough to survive outside the womb. 
When we say “miscarriage”, we refer to the pregnancy spontaneously ending in the first 20 weeks (so up until halfway through a typical 40-week pregnancy). If it happens closer to birth (after 20 weeks of pregnancy), it’s referred to as a “stillbirth”. We will focus on miscarriages rather than stillbirth in this letter.
A pregnancy spontaneously ending in an early stage is more common than it happening closer to birth. Most miscarriages happen in the first 13 weeks.
A miscarriage usually involves vaginal bleeding. It can range from light spotting to heavy bleeding. It may also include the passing of tissue or blood clots. Abdominal pain or cramps may also be present. (This is why a miscarriage that occurs before the person is even aware they’re pregnant may be confused with a heavy period). 
However, some people may only experience the lessening of pregnancy symptoms (such as a sudden stop of morning sickness) that alerts them to the miscarriage. Some miscarriages also occur without any noticeable symptoms at all and may only be discovered at the next ultrasound. 
Let’s look at some myths and facts about miscarriages: 
Myth: Miscarriages are rare. 
Fact: About 10 to 20% of all known pregnancies end in miscarriage (and the “real” number is probably even higher, since many miscarriages happen before the person even knows they are pregnant). 
Myth: Miscarriages happen because you do something wrong or aren’t careful enough. 
Fact: Most miscarriages happen because of severe problems with the unborn baby’s DNA. These are usually random genetic glitches in the egg or sperm - meaning there’s nobody to “blame”. The baby wouldn’t have survived, no matter how careful the pregnant person is. 
Myth: When we talk about “medical treatment” for a miscarriage, we are talking about people who choose to have a miscarriage. 
Fact: Nobody chooses to have a miscarriage. It’s by its very definition the spontaneous ending of a pregnancy. A person may need to undergo medically necessary treatment because of a miscarriage. It may be necessary to remove tissue that remains in the uterus. This isn’t the trigger of the miscarriage, it is done after the pregnancy already naturally ended. It is done to prevent infection or stop heavy bleeding. This procedure is called a D & C (dilation and curettage) and it can be a lifesaver!
Myth: If you had a miscarriage, it’s a sign you deep down resented the baby. 
Fact: The most wanted pregnancy ever could end in miscarriage. People who tried  for years and finally got pregnant could experience a miscarriage. People who jumped through legal hurdles and spend a lot of money to be able to undergo sperm donation or IVF could experience a miscarriage. This is just a horrible and untrue thing to say about people who experience a potentially traumatic health event that’s entirely out of their control. 
Myth: It’s easy to get over a miscarriage. 
Fact: It’s a life-changing experience. It’s always emotionally challenging. There’s the aspect of the unexpected (and potentially scary) health event, and of course there’s also the aspect of a loss, of grief. It shouldn’t be surprising that, for most people, it’s not something they can easily shrug off. There are a lot of emotions that can come up - during, right after and also months or years after. There’s no time limit on when someone will be “over it”. In fact, they may never feel “over it”, just learn to live with it as part of their reality. 
Myth: If it was an unplanned pregnancy, the person should be relieved to have a miscarriage. 
Fact: There’s no “Should” in loss. Even if they didn’t want to be pregnant, they may still grieve. Even if they do feel some relief, it may be tinged with emotional pain, frustration, feelings of helplessness or guilt… And all of that is valid. Nobody but the person who experienced the miscarriage has a right to say how they feel about it. 
Myth: If you had a miscarriage, it means you’ll never be able to have biological children. 
Fact: Nearly 90% of people who miscarry will go on to have normal pregnancies and healthy babies! 
With all my love, 
Your Tumblr Dad 
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pucksandpower · 1 year ago
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Ties That Bind
Charles Leclerc x royal!Reader + Max Verstappen x sister!Reader
Summary: life as Princess of the Netherlands is pretty perfect but when health issues become a (literal) royal pain, you discover a familial connection that will change your life forever
Warnings: struggles with infertility, child abandonment, serious health issues, medical procedures and treatments
This is what happens when I’m insane enough to try juggling writing an 8k+ word fic with studying in medical school
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The night was a cascade of ethereal snowflakes, each one glistening under the pale moonlight, landing gracefully upon the earth. The silver car glided along the road, its headlights illuminating the path through the thick curtain of snow, like two piercing eyes navigating through sorrow.
Inside, Prince Frederik of the Netherlands drove in silent contemplation, the weight of the day’s news pressing heavily on his heart. Beside him, Princess Marianne stared out of the frosted window, her reflection capturing swollen eyes that glistened with fresh tears. Her fingers trembled slightly, crumpling yet another now irrelevant medical report indicating one more failed IVF attempt.
“I thought this time would be different,” Marianne whispered, her voice quivering. “I truly believed it.”
Frederik’s grip on the wheel tightened. He turned to his wife, pain evident in his eyes. “I know, my love. I know.”
As they drove, Frederik’s eyes caught a glimpse of something unusual by the side of the road. “What’s that?” He murmured, slowing the car.
Marianne followed his gaze. “It looks like a bundle ... stop the car!”
Frederik brought the vehicle to a halt. They both jumped out and hurried over to the mysterious object. As they approached, Marianne gasped. “Oh my God, Frederik ... it’s a baby!”
She quickly bent down to scoop the tiny, shivering form into her arms. The baby’s skin was cold, blue lips barely parting for shallow breaths as the thin pink blanket wrapped around it did little to fight the chill. “Who could do such a thing?” Marianne cried, holding the child close for warmth.
Frederik’s face hardened. “We need to get her to a hospital. Now.”
Back in the car, Marianne cradled the baby, trying to transfer her warmth. “Stay with us,” she murmured, tears spilling. “Please, stay with us.”
As they sped towards the hospital, Frederik reached over and held Marianne’s free hand. “It'’s a sign,” he whispered. “After everything we’ve been through today ... finding her like this ... it’s fate.”
Marianne looked down at the baby, her fingers gently brushing the soft wisps of hair on the child’s head. “Our little miracle in the snow,” she whispered back.
Frederik smiled faintly, squeezing Marianne's hand. “Yes, our snow angel. We’ll take care of her and she’ll take care of us.”
***
“You know, every time it snows, it feels like the world is celebrating the day we found you,” your father, now King Frederik, remarks, gazing out of the vast palace windows at the flurries descending from the sky.
You smile, reaching for a delicate pastry from the breakfast spread laid out before you. “And every snowflake reminds me of the warmth of this family that saved me from the cold.”
Your mother, Queen Marianne, hair now threaded with silver, gives you a loving glance. “Our snow angel, right when we needed you most.”
“Speaking of snow,” you muse, “I’m thinking of wearing the ice-blue gown for tonight’s gala. Thoughts?”
Your father raises an eyebrow, “For the Children’s Foundation event? Perfect choice. It complements the theme and matches the tiara your mother has picked for you to wear.”
You grin, “Who knew you had such a fashion sense?”
Your mother chuckles, “It’s a king thing. But he’s right. And with your sapphire necklace, you will be the talk of the gala.”
You take a sip of your tea, thinking of the evening ahead. “I want to ensure my speech captures the essence of our foundation’s work. It’s more than just another royal event, this is about making a real difference.”
Your father nods, “It always is for you. That genuine desire to impact lives, it’s how I know you will be a great Queen one day.”
You blush slightly, “I learned from the best.”
Your mother, with a hint of mischief, remarks, “And speaking of learning, have you decided on a dance partner for the first waltz? There’s quite a line-up available.”
You laugh, “Oh, Mom! Let’s not start matchmaking before breakfast is over.”
Your father joins in the mirth, “Give her a break, Marianne. Our snow angel must not melt.”
***
The regal hallways echo with the gentle patter of your heeled footsteps. Lately, the palace, your lifelong sanctuary, feels more like a maze. A sudden wave of dizziness makes you pause, leaning against a gilded wall for support.
“You okay there?” a soft voice calls. It’s your mother, her face etched with worry.
“Just a bit dizzy,” you mumble, attempting a reassuring smile.
She hurries over, her gown flowing. “You’ve been looking pale these past few days.”
Before you can reply, a sharp sensation pricks your nose. Touching it, you’re shocked to see blood on your fingertips. “Oh no,” you whisper, panic creeping into your voice.
Your mother’s eyes widen. “We need to see a doctor.”
“But the gala—”
“Forget the gala!” She interrupts. “Your health comes first.”
***
Inside the royal clinic, the room is a tense silence. Your father paces while your mother sits beside you, holding your hand tightly.
The family physician finally arrives, his expression somber. “Your Highness, Your Majesties,” he begins, “we’ve run several tests.”
“And?” Your father demands, halting his restless walk.
You take a deep, shaky breath, bracing yourself.
The doctor hesitates for a split second. “You have aplastic anemia.”
The room seems to close in. The words hang heavily, turning the opulent clinic cold.
Your mother’s voice trembles, “What does that mean?”
“It’s a condition where the bone marrow doesn’t produce enough new blood cells. This leads to fatigue, higher risk of infections, and uncontrolled bleeding,” the doctor explains.
Your mind races. The symptoms make sense now — the fatigue, dizziness, the nosebleed.
Your father’s face hardens, searching for hope. “What’s the treatment?”
The doctor looks grim, “The most effective treatment at this severity is a bone marrow transplant. We will need to find a matching donor.”
Your mother’s grip tightens on your hand, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “We’ll find one. We have to.”
Your father nods. “We will move mountains if we have to.”
You muster a small smile, drawing strength from your parents. “One snowstorm at a time.”
***
“How long does it usually take to find a match?” Youu inquire, voice trembling ever so slightly.
Dr. Van der Meer, the lead hematologist on your case, sighs, “It varies, Your Highness. Some find a match within their family, others from the global database. It can take days or even months.”
Your mother breaks in desperately, “But surely, with our resources, we can expedite the process?”
Your father adds, “Every avenue, every connection we have at our disposal is yours to use, Doctor.”
Dr. Van der Meer nods, “I understand the urgency, Your Majesties. We’ve already started to search within the national database. Meanwhile, we advise immediate family to get tested first.”
You interject, a sense of realization dawning, “But I’m adopted. Our genetic makeup differs.”
Your father and mother exchange a heavy look, the weight of your situation pressing down on them.
“We still have a vast network, a whole nation even,” your father muses. “Surely someone out there is a match.”
Dr. Van der Meer hesitates then says, “Actually, there has already been a hit from the database. A potential match.”
Your heart skips a beat. “Who?”
“We maintain confidentiality, Your Highness,” he replies. “But once we confirm the match and receive their consent, you will be informed.”
Your mother’s voice is tinged with hope. “So there’s a chance? A real chance?”
You lean forward eagerly. “When will we know more?”
Dr. Van der Meer offers a comforting smile. “Soon, Your Highness. For now, patience is our ally.”
***
“It’s been weeks, Doctor. Why haven’t we heard from the potential donor?” The frustration is clear in your mother’s voice.
Dr. Van der Meer looks up, choosing his words carefully. “The potential donor ... has some reservations.”
Your father’s brow furrows. “Reservations? Isn’t saving a life more important?”
The doctor clears his throat, “It’s a bit more complicated than that, Your Majesty. The potential donor is someone you’re familiar with.”
You lean forward, your curiosity piqued. “Who is it?”
There’s a momentary pause, the silence thickening. “Max Verstappen.”
Shock ripples through the room. The name isn’t just any name. It’s a name known to every Dutch citizen, celebrated in every corner of the nation.
Your mother blinks in disbelief. “The Formula 1 racer? We’ve met him multiple times at the Grand Prix. But why would he have reservations?”
Dr. Van der Meer hesitates, “There’s more to it. We ran some further genetic tests, customary for close matches. The results were ... unexpected.”
Your father leans forward in anticipation. “Go on.”
The doctor takes a deep breath, “Max Verstappen is not just a match. He’s ... he’s your half-brother.”
The room goes still. The revelation hangs in the air, too staggering to fully comprehend.
You feel your world tilt. “That’s impossible.”
Your mother’s voice is a whisper, “How can that be?”
Dr. Van der Meer clears his throat. “The genetic markers were unmistakable. Given the rare degree of compatibility and the markers we found, there is no doubt.”
Your father runs a hand through his hair, trying to process the news. “So all these years, at every Grand Prix, we’ve been cheering for ... family?”
You chime in, a flurry of emotions whirling inside, “And he doesn’t know, does he?”
The doctor shakes his head, “No, not yet. That’s the reservation. Revealing this ... it changes everything for him too.”
Your mother is contemplative. “We’ve celebrated his victories, felt the pride of having him represent our country. And now, knowing he’s family ...”
You interject, “And now, we need him more than ever. Not as a driver, not as a national icon, but as family.”
Your father’s resolve strengthens. “We need to tell him. He deserves to know.”
***
“How do you even begin a conversation like this?” You wonder aloud, staring at the blank screen of your laptop.
Your father, deep in thought, answers, “Honestly, directly, and with sensitivity. It’s uncharted territory for all of us.”
Your mothers adds, “Perhaps start by expressing your genuine feelings, without the weight of our titles or his fame."
You nod slowly, fingers hovering over the keyboard. “Dear Max,” you repeat out loud as you begin typing, then pause. “Too formal?”
Your father shrugs, “It’s sincere. And that’s what matters.”
Taking a deep breath, you continue:
Dear Max,
This isn’t a typical letter and I struggle to find the right words. By now, you might have been informed by the medical team about our unexpected connection. I wanted to reach out personally, not as the Princess of Orange, but simply as ... family.
Your mother reads over your shoulder, “That’s a good start.”
I cannot imagine how jarring this news must be. It was for me too. All these years, our paths crossed, shared smiles exchanged, never knowing the deeper bond we shared.
“Maybe mention the Grand Prix, how it has been a tradition for us,” your father suggests.
Every year at the Dutch Grand Prix, my parents and I cheered for you, felt immense pride in your victories. The realization that those cheers were for family adds a layer of emotion I can’t quite put into words.
I understand if you need time to process this. But I want you to know that this revelation changes nothing about the respect and admiration I hold for you. However, it does add a depth of connection, a newfound kinship.
Your mother, her voice choked with emotion, suggests, “Maybe let him know why it’s important now, about your condition.”
The reason I am reaching out now is not just about our newfound connection but also because of a pressing health concern I am facing. I need a bone marrow transplant, and as it turns out, you are my best match.
“Reassure him,” your father adds. “It’s a big ask.”
I understand the weight of this request. There is no obligation, only hope. No matter your decision, I want you to know that discovering this bond, this link between us, is a gift in itself.
Please take all the time you need. Whatever you decide, I respect and cherish the connection we have discovered. Wishing you all the best on and off the track.
Sincerely,
Y/N
Your father, visibly moved, murmurs, “It’s perfect.”
Your mother nods in agreement, tears shimmering. “It’s from the heart. Now, we wait.”
***
The roaring engines on the racetrack outside fade as the door to the private lounge close behind you. Max Verstappen stands there, his usual confident demeanor replaced with apprehension. The weight of the recent revelations is thick in the air.
“You look different without the crown,” Max remarks, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
You chuckle softly, “And you without the helmet.”
The initial ice broken, the two of you sit. A beat of silence passes. Then Max, eyes searching yours, asks, “Why now?”
You take a deep breath. “I’ve always known I was adopted. Every snowy day, my parents would recount the tale of how they found their snow angel. I grew up surrounded by love and privilege, never lacking anything.” Your voice trembles slightly, “But there were nights ... nights I’d wonder about the person who left me there, in the snow. Why didn’t they want me? Why did they abandon me to the whims of a storm?”
Max’s expression softens, his own memories surfacing. “I grew up with my father’s strict guidance. Racing wasn’t just a passion, it was life. There was little room for anything else. I always thought I understood my family but this ...” He sighs, looking away. “It makes me question everything.”
You nod, shared uncertainty bringing you closer. “But through all this confusion, one thing is clear: we’re family. Blood, it seems, has a way of revealing itself.”
Max smiles ruefully, “You know, I have a sister, a full sister. Growing up, we were close but our paths divided. Racing consumed me. Now, discovering I have another sister, you, it’s ... overwhelming.”
You chuckle, “Two sisters. Lucky you.”
He grins, “Twice the protective instincts.”
The humor fades, replaced by raw emotion. “You know,” you whisper, tears brimming, “Despite everything, I’m grateful for our paths crossing like this. Even if it took a lifetime.”
Max reaches out, taking your hand. “Me too.”
The weight of the moment presses on both of you. You look at each other, eyes brimming with tears, souls bared.
In a sudden rush of emotion, you step forward, collapsing into Max’s embrace. He holds you tightly, as if trying to shield you from all the past hurts, regrets, and questions. The warmth of the hug contrasts sharply with the cold memory of that snowy night. In his embrace, the years of wondering, the pain of abandonment, seem to melt away.
Pulling back slightly, you look up into Max’s eyes. With a tearful smile, you whisper, “Brother.”
He grins back, “Sister. How would you feel about attending the next race, not as royalty but as my guest?”
You hesitate, the memories of previous races filled with formalities and protocols. “It will be different.”
Max wraps an arm around you shoulders, “Very. But I promise, you will see the world of racing like never before.”
***
The roar of the engines, the excitement of the crowd — it was all distantly familiar. Yet, standing beside Max, everything feels different.
As you walk through the paddock, Max’s pride is evident. “Guys,” he calls out to his mechanics, “Meet my sister.”
They look up, surprised, then smiles break out across their faces. “It’s an honor, Your Highness,” one of them greets.
Max nudges him, “Just call her by her name.”
You laugh in agreement, “It’s nice to meet you all without the formalities.”
Max continues his introductions, his enthusiasm infectious. When you reach Christian Horner, he looks pleasantly surprised. “It’s been a while,” he remarks, “Though our meetings were always, well, more formal.”
You nod, “It’s a different world from this side of the track.”
Max beams, “And she’s getting the full experience today.”
When the race starts, every moment feels magnified, more personal.
And then, the checkered flag waves for Max.
The Red Bull garage erupts in jubilation. During the celebration, Max, still in his car, locks eyes with you from across parc fermé. You can see the moisture, the emotion in his eyes. The moment he is out of his car, he races over, pulling you into a tight embrace.
“This win,” he whispers hoarsely, “it’s not just for me this time. It’s for us. For family.”
As the Dutch anthem plays during the podium ceremony, tears fill your eyes. The anthem, a proud symbol of your country and kingdom, now also symbolizes the new, ever-growing bond with your brother.
Max, standing tall on the podium, catches your eye and winks. And as the ceremony concludes, he suddenly turns, aiming his bottle of champagne right at you. The spray catches you off guard, laughter bubbling up as the cold liquid soaks you.
“You had to, didn’t you?” You laugh, wiping away the liquid before it can sting your eyes.
Max ruffles your hair, “It’s my new duty as your older brother!”
***
“Hey, there’s someone I’d like you to meet,” Max says, pulling you towards the thrumming heart of the afterparty.
The vibrant lights and chatter fill the room but everything seems to slow as you’re introduced to a lean figure with tousled hair and hypnotizing eyes. “This is Charles Leclerc,” Max grins, “One of the toughest guys I’ve raced against.”
Charles offers a charming smile, “Pleasure to meet you. Max speaks highly of you.”
You raise your glass in a mock toast to your brother. “Glad to hear that my bribe has been paying off.”
Charles laughs, “Well, considering today’s win, you might just be his favorite person.”
The two of you share a laugh, an effortless ease settling between you as you barely notice Max walking off with a wink shot your way.
“You’ve been to several races, haven’t you?” Charles asks, sipping his drink.
“In a more official capacity, yes. But today was ... different.”
He nods, his gaze intense, “Being family changes the perspective.”
Charles leans in, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Now that you’ve seen me on the track maybe I should show you some of my other talents?”
You raise an eyebrow, the thrill of the night’s excitement mixing with his words. “Oh? What other hidden skills do you possess?”
His voice drops to a sultry murmur. “Well, I make a mean pasta carbonara. Maybe I’ll whip it up for you someday.”
You laugh, the warmth of the moment spreading through you. “I’ll definitely hold you to that.”
Max, watching from a distance, nudges Carlos, “Look at them. Told you they’d hit it off.”
“You know, I’ve always been curious about the life of a princess,” Charles muses, a playful glint in his eye. “Is it all tiaras and tea parties?”
You smirk. “It’s more boring than you would think. But for a driver like you, every day’s a thrill, right? Speeding cars, roaring crowds, adoring fans?”
He grins, leaning closer, the proximity making your heart race. “Most days. But some nights, the thrill is ... elsewhere,” his gaze deepening, locked onto yours.
The two of you are drawn into a world of your own, the party’s noise fading into the background.
He brushes a stray hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering just a moment longer. “Have you ever considered doing a hot lap? It’s quite the rush.”
You laugh, feeling the warmth of his touch. “I don’t know about getting in a race car but I can think of something else I’d love to ride right now.”
As the club’s pulsating music envelops you, Charles leans in, his voice husky over the beat, “Care for a dance?”
You accept, and as you both move to the rhythm, the world around seems to disappear. The close proximity, the electric energy on the dance floor, and the feeling of his body moving against yours is intoxicating.
“Right now,” Charles murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear to be heard above the music, “I feel like the winner tonight.”
You smile, your gaze locked onto his, “The night is still young. Let’s see where it takes us.”
***
“I’ve noticed you’re attending more races lately,” Max comments, a teasing glint in his eyes as you both walk through the paddock.
You shrug, feigning innocence. “Well, I’ve developed quite an appreciation for the sport.”
Max chuckles, “Or for a certain Ferrari driver?”
Blushing, you retort, “Can’t it be both?”
Before Max can respond, Charles approaches, his smile brightening as he spots you. “Good to see you again,” he greets, though his eyes convey a warmth that words can’t.
“You too,” you reply in a voice softer than intended.
The three of you share some casual banter before Max excuses himself, leaving you alone with Charles.
“You know,” Charles starts, “it’s become the highlight of my race weekends, seeing you here.”
You smile, “I’ve come to realize that there’s more to F1 than just the thrill of the race. There are ... other attractions.”
Charles grins, “Is that so? Any attraction in particular?”
You playfully nudge him, “Don’t get too confident, Leclerc.”
Weekends spent at circuits become a regular fixture in your life. While you’re initially there for Max, the increasing time spent with Charles deepens your bond. The stolen glances during press conferences, the private moments away from the limelight, and the late-night conversations make the connection undeniable.
One evening, after a particularly intense race, Charles pulls you aside, his face flushed from the adrenaline. “Every time I cross the finish line and look towards the other garages, I hope to catch a glimpse of you.”
Your heart skips a beat. “And if you do?”
He smiles, “It either makes victory all the more sweet or the sting of defeat not quite as painful.”
***
“You’ve made the front page again,” Max remarks dryly, handing you a tabloid during breakfast.
You glance at the headline, The Princess and the Racer: F1’s Fairytale Romance accompanied by a candid shot of you and Charles out to dinner.
Charles groans, “They make it sound like a soap opera.”
You sigh, “It’s the price we pay, I guess.”
As weeks go by, the media scrutiny intensifies. Every public appearance and every minuscule gesture, is analyzed, often blown out of proportion. The weight of the world’s eyes strains the joy of your newfound relationship.
One evening, after a particularly invasive article speculating about a rushed engagement, Charles pulls you aside, his face drawn with concern. “I noticed you’ve been pale lately, more tired. Is it the stress from all this media attention?”
You hesitate, biting your lip. The truth is, it’s more than just the media. Your health has been deteriorating and you’ve been trying to hide it.
“It’s not just the media,” you admit.
His eyes are filled with worry. “What is it?”
Max, overhearing the conversation, interjects, “It’s her health. She didn't want to worry you.”
Charles looks at you in disbelief. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
You take a deep breath, “I didn’t want to add to the pressures of the season, to be another burden.”
He reaches out, holding you close, “You’re never a burden. We’re in this together.”
You take a shaky breath, drawing strength from his words. “I’ve been diagnosed with aplastic anemia. It’s a condition where my bone marrow doesn’t produce enough new blood cells.”
Charles pales, “That’s ... serious.”
You nod, “After this race, I’m starting chemotherapy to destroy the dysfunctional bone marrow in preparation for a transplant.”
Silence envelops the room. Charles processes the weight of the revelation, the enormity of the situation sinking in. “Why now?” He finally asks.
“Timing is crucial,” Max chimes in, “She’s been putting it off, not wanting to disrupt the season. But we can’t wait much longer.”
Charles runs a hand through his hair in frustration. “I just wish you had told me sooner.”
You reach out, touching his arm, “I didn’t know how. Everything was happening so fast — our relationship, the media attention. I didn’t want to add more stress.”
Charles pulls you into a tight embrace, his voice choked with emotion. “Promise me, no more secrets.”
You nod, tears streaming down your face, “I promise.”
***
“Are you sure you want to be here for this?” You ask Charles as you both sit in the sterile hospital room, awaiting the doctor who would be overseeing your chemotherapy treatments.
Charles takes your hand, squeezing it reassuringly. “Every step of the way.”
The door opens and the doctor walks in, a gentle but serious look on her face. “Before we begin, there’s something important we need to discuss. The chemotherapy might affect your fertility. It’s not certain but there is a significant risk.”
You freeze. You had expected side effects, the potential hair loss, the fatigue. But this? This was unanticipated. This ripped your heart out of your chest.
Charles tightens his grip on your hand, his face pale. “Is there ... any way to mitigate that risk?”
The doctor nods, “We can retrieve and store your eggs. It’s a procedure done before chemotherapy in some cases. You will need hormone injections for about 10 to 12 days to stimulate the ovaries.”
You look at Charles, your eyes filled with tears, “It’s another delay.”
Charles brushes a tear from your cheek, “We face this together. I am here for you no matter what you decide.”
The days that follow are a whirlwind. Charles is by your side every step of the way, providing both emotional support and administering the daily injections.
Each evening, he carefully prepares the hormone shot. “Ready?” He asks, looking into your eyes.
You nod, trying to put on a brave face. But the physical discomfort is nothing compared to the emotional toll. Still, with Charles by your side, each day becomes bearable.
One evening, as he administers the injection, he whispers, “I’m so proud of you. Your strength amazes me every day.”
Tears spring to your eyes. “I couldn’t do this without you.”
Charles pulls you into a tight embrace, his warmth enveloping you. “You’ll never have to.”
***
“Are you sure about this?” Charles asks, his fingers brushing yours as you lay on the hospital bed.
You take a deep breath, meeting his gaze. “I am. It’s a step towards preserving a potential future, one I hope to share with you.”
His eyes soften. “Every step, I’m here.”
The medical staff move around in the background, preparing for the procedure. The hum of machines and the sterile environment contrast starkly with the intimate bubble you and Charles share.
As the procedure begins, Charles holds your hand, his thumb drawing comforting circles on your skin. “Remember our trip to Monaco?” He murmurs, attempting to distract you. “The sea, the laughter, the little café by the pier?”
A smile tugs at your lips, even as you nod for the OBGYN to proceed. “The one with the overly sweet pastries?”
Charles chuckles, “That’s the one. Imagine us there, a decade from now, two kids in tow, arguing over whether chocolate or vanilla is better.”
The image he paints eases your tension, providing a temporary escape from the clinical room. The retrieval is swift but the emotional weight lingers.
“You did great,” Charles murmurs, brushing a stray hair away from your face.
You smile weakly, “One hurdle crossed.”
The next phase comes swiftly the following day: chemotherapy. The treatment center is full of artificial warmth — the walls painted a deep yellow and the heater working overtime to keep patients as comfortable as possible — but it does nothing to counteract the chill of fear that has taken over your body.
When the nurse enters with the IV bag for your chemotherapy, Charles stands up, his stance protective. “How does this work?”
She explains the process, her voice soft, “The medication will enter her bloodstream and target the rapidly growing cells. There might be some side effects but we will monitor her closely.”
You feel a pinch as the needle is inserted and soon the clear liquid starts making its way into your veins. You blink rapidly, willing the tears away before Charles can see them.
Attempting to lighten the mood, he starts recounting some of his funniest moments from racing. You chuckle at his anecdotes, grateful for the distraction.
Hours pass. The room is filled with a mix of medical beeps and Charles’ voice, offering a counterbalance of cold reality and warm comfort.
As the IV bag nears empty, you feel a wave of fatigue. Charles notices. “Rest,” he urges softly, his thumb caressing your hand.
You nod, closing your eyes, “Thank you for being my anchor.”
He leans in, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. “Always, for every challenge, every step. Always.”
***
“I still can’t believe you made him go,” your mother murmurs from the chair next to you. The hum of machines and the sterile scent of the hospital room are in stark contrast to the roaring engines and burning rubber of the track that you can almost sense through the television screen.
You manage a weak smile. “He belongs on the track, Mom. This race is crucial for the championship.”
“He wanted to stay,” your father adds. “He’s racing with a heavy heart.”
“I know,” you whisper, a tear trickling down. “But he’s strong. And I want him to win, for both of us.”
The room falls silent, save for the rhythmic beeping of the machines. You can feel the potent cocktail of drugs coursing through your veins, sapping your strength but a necessary step to fight the disease within.
The TV in the corner broadcasts the race. You hear the commentator’s voice, “... Charles Leclerc, giving it his all today. You have to wonder where he’s drawing this intensity from.”
You know the answer.
The laps go by. With each turn, each overtake Charles makes, you can sense his determination, his desire to win not just for the title but for something else … someone else.
“You should rest,” your father advises, noticing your drooping eyelids.
But you resist, wanting to witness Charles cross the finish line.
The final laps are intense. Charles battles fiercely, and as he takes the checkered flag, the room bursts into subdued cheers.
“He did it!” Your mother exclaims.
You feel a swell of pride. “For us,” you whisper, before fatigue takes over and you drift into a deep sleep.
As consciousness slowly returns not too long after, the first thing you notice is the gentle vibration of your phone on the bedside table. Groggily reaching for it, you see a new message notification from a group chat with Charles and Max.
It’s a photo of Charles and Max, still in their race suits, grinning ear to ear. Charles holds up his first-place trophy while Max proudly displays his second. They’re both covered in champagne, evidence of the post-race celebrations.
These are for you. For our champion.
With shaky fingers, you type back:
My heroes. Thank you for being my strength. So proud of you both. Can’t wait to see you again.
Your mother, noticing your reaction, peers over your shoulder. “Those boys,” she says with a fond smile, “they really adore you.”
You nod, wiping away a tear. “I’m so lucky.”
***
“Hey, sis,” Max’s voice is soft, tinged with a mix of worry and hope as he sits beside you in the pre-op room, “Ready to share a bit more than just DNA?”
You manage a small smile, despite the anxiety. “As long as you don’t start claiming we share driving skills.”
He chuckles, squeezing your hand. “Promise.”
The doctor enters, clipboard in hand. “Both of you understand the procedure, correct? Max, we will be extracting bone marrow from your pelvic bone. It’s a relatively straightforward process but you might feel some discomfort.”
Max nods resolutely. “Anything for her.”
You swallow hard, emotions swirling. “Thank you, Max. This ... it means everything.”
He looks at you, eyes filled with a brotherly love that’s grown exponentially over the past few months. “We’re family. We look out for each other.”
As Max is wheeled away for his extraction, he offers a brave smile. “See you on the other side.”
Hours later, as you sit by his bedside, watching him slowly come around post-procedure, you squeeze his hand. “You okay?”
He groans, “Feels like I’ve done a doubleheader race without any breaks. But it’s worth it.”
Then comes your turn. Max, despite his exhaustion, insists on being present. The stem cells he donated are infused into you through a central line. It’s a simple procedure but one filled with so much hope and emotion.
Max watches closely, gripping your hand. “You got this,” he murmurs as the life-saving cells flow into your body.
You try to show a convincing smile before closing your eyes and praying to whoever’s listening that this works.
***
The pale blue walls of the hospital room have become all too familiar, the rhythmic beep of machines a constant in the background. You’re reclined on the bed, an IV line dripping nutrients and much-needed blood transfusions into your system. As your body adjusts to the new bone marrow, these are crucial.
Max is seated beside you, a crossword puzzle in hand. The chairs aren’t particularly comfortable but he’s still rarely left your side.
Max taps his pen against the paper thoughtfully. “Alright, here’s one for you. Seven letters: someone who is always there, no matter what.”
You raise an eyebrow, pondering. “Is it brother?”
He grins, “You’re getting good at this.”
You chuckle, “Well, I can’t help it when the answer is so obvious …”
He leans in closer, dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “I snuck in some of those chocolates you like from that little shop in town.”
Your eyes widen in mock horror. “You rebel. We’ll be banished from the kingdom.”
He winks, producing a small box from his bag. “Worth it.”
As you both indulge in the illicit treat, you realize just how much these little moments, these shared smiles and inside jokes, make the ordeal bearable.
Max notices your contemplative expression. “Hey, what’s on your mind?”
“Just thinking about how lucky I am to have a brother who sneaks chocolates into a hospital for me.”
He extends his pinky towards you, “Always. Until the end of the race.”
You intertwine your own pinky with his to immortalize the promise, “And beyond.”
Just as the two of you are finishing the last of the chocolates, the door swings open quietly. Charles steps in, his eyes immediately seeking you out. There’s a bouquet of fresh flowers in his hand, their vibrant colors standing out against the sterile environment.
“You two conspiring without me?” Charles teases, setting the flowers on the bedside table.
Max smirks, “Just ensuring she gets her daily dose of chocolate, doctor’s orders.”
Charles moves to your side and presses a soft kiss on your forehead. “How are you feeling today?”
“Better now that my two favorite racers are here,” you reply with a smile.
Charles laughs, “I see. Well, the doctor outside told me your blood counts are improving. Seems the new bone marrow is getting to work.”
You nod hopefully. “One day at a time.”
Charles moves closer, taking your free hand. “Every day is a step closer to getting you out of here.”
Max, sensing the intimate moment, stands up, stretching. “I’ll leave you lovebirds to it. Need to grab a coffee and give that crossword another go.”
Charles smiles gratefully at him, and as Max exits the room, you’re left in a bubble of comfort and warmth with your boyfriend.
***
“Grant our daughter strength and good news,” your mother’s prayer weaves through the tense atmosphere of the room.
Charles’ grip on your hand tightens and he whispers, “Whatever the news, we face it together.”
“Guide the hands of the doctors, let their knowledge lead to healing.”
Max, on your other side, offers a comforting squeeze, his face betraying his own anxiety. “You’ve come so far already.”
“And bless our family with your grace and protection.”
The prayer lingers in the air just as the door opens.
“Grant her the strength, the health, the life she deserves ...”
The doctor steps in, a manila envelope in hand. Everyone’s gaze immediately fixes on him, the room heavy with bated breath.
He looks around the room, making eye contact with each one of you, then finally says, “The results are in.”
You feel Charles’ hand tremble slightly … Max’s grip tighten … your father barely breathing behind you … a silent prayer still on your mother’s lips.
“The bone marrow has taken exceptionally well. All indicators and markers are positive.” The doctor smiles. “You’re officially in remission. You’re cured.”
A tidal wave of emotion crashes over the room. Tears immediately spring to your eyes, happiness and relief mingling in each drop.
Your mother’s whispered prayer crescendos into a heartfelt “thank you,” choked with emotion.
Your father, the ever-composed king, has moisture in his eyes as he holds you close, “Our snow angel, our miracle.”
Charles pulls you into a tight embrace next, his voice a shaky whisper, “You did it.”
Max is grinning from ear to ear. “Told you, sis. Until the end of the race and beyond.”
***
“Look at them,” Max says, nudging you as the camera pans over the pit crews, each member prominently sporting a bright red ribbon. “All in solidarity.”
Charles beams, joining the conversation. “It was Max’s idea. The ribbons. Both teams were eager to join in.”
You’re touched, tears threatening to spill. “It’s incredible. Both of you, your teams ... I’m speechless.”
The commentator on the screen picks up on the theme. “For those just tuning in, both the Ferrari and Red Bull teams are wearing red ribbons today in support of aplastic anemia awareness, a personal cause for them given the recent battle of the Princess of Orange with the condition.”
Mid-race, Max’s voice crackles over the team radio, “This one’s for you, sis.”
Charles, not to be outdone, pushes his car to the limit, the red ribbon painted on his helmet clearly visible every time the camera focuses on him.
Later, as you walk back out through the paddock, fans approach, many sporting red ribbons of their own. One young girl looks at you with stars in her eyes, “I wear this for my mom. She’s fighting too, just like you did.”
You pull her into a gentle hug. “She’s got this. I know she does.”
***
As soon as the statement goes live on the official website of the Netherlands Royal Family, the internet erupts.
The Royal House of the Netherlands is pleased to announce that Her Royal Highness, Y/N the Princess of Orange, and Mr. Charles Leclerc are officially courting.
Your phone buzzes incessantly with notifications. Charles, seated beside you, chuckles, “Well, there’s no going back now.”
Your father enters the room, a smile playing on his lips. “The people seem to be taking the news ... enthusiastically.”
Your mother, scrolling through her own device, adds, “And overwhelmingly positively. Listen to this: We’ve seen them together. Their chemistry is undeniable. Wishing them all the best!”
You exhale, a weight lifting off your shoulders. “I was so nervous about the reaction.”
Charles brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, “We’re in this together, remember?”
Max bursts into the room with his usual energy, “You two are trending. The fans are loving it!”
Screens across the nation flash images of you and Charles — at the racetrack, during hospital visits, candid moments captured by keen-eyed photographers. Talk shows and news channels dive deep into analyzing your relationship, piecing together any crumbs of insight they might have.
A popular racing pundit remarks on a live broadcast, “Their bond is evident, both on and off the track. Charles’ performance has been exceptional since they've been together. It’s clear that they draw strength from each other.”
The public’s fascination is insatiable. Magazines are splashed with titles like Love in the Fast Lane. But despite the media frenzy, what touches you most are the personal messages. Fans share artwork, write songs, and pen heartfelt letters, celebrating love and the winding path that brought you both to this moment.
One evening, as you and Charles sit on the palace balcony overlooking the city, he turns to you, “They’re acting like we’re some sort of fairytale.”
You lean into him, “Maybe we are. It’s our story and I wouldn’t change a single thing.”
***
“You know,” your father begins, a playful glint in his eye as he slices into his steak, “I had an amusing conversation with Prince Albert the other day.”
Charles, taking a sip of his wine, raises an eyebrow. “Oh?”
Your father chuckles, “He said Monaco might need to extend an invitation for our next state visit given that we seem to have shared interests now.”
The table erupts in laughter. Your mother adds, teasingly, “And here I thought we were simply bonding over diplomatic ties.”
“So,” Max leans forward eagerly. “Any embarrassing stories about Y/N? I have to make up for all of the childhood adventures I’ve missed.”
“Oh, there are plenty! Remember the time she tried to drive a lawnmower and ended up in the rose bushes?” Your father says, trying to look serious.
Marianne chuckles, “Don’t remind me! Those were my favorite roses.”
You groan, hiding your face in your hands. “I was eight! And I thought it was a car!”
Charles grins, squeezing your hand under the table. “I can only imagine a mini version of you so determined behind the wheel.”
“And at her sixth birthday party,” your father recounts with a smirk, “she declared that she’d be ruling the kingdom by sundown and tried to hold a mock council meeting with her stuffed toys.”
Charles nudges you playfully, “Planning coups at six? Should I be worried?”
You swat him lightly, “It was a phase.”
As dessert is served, your mother turns contemplative. “You know, I’ve always believed in destiny. And seeing all of you here, witnessing the bonds and the love, it reaffirms that belief.”
Charles nods his agreement, “Life has a way of bringing the right people together.”
Your father raises his glass, “To family, in all its forms. To the journeys we embark on and the memories we create.”
The clinking of glasses has never sounded sweeter.
***
Charles, his face flushed with the victory of the 2025 World Championship, stands on the podium, trophy in hand. The cheering of the crowd is deafening but as he signals for a microphone, a hush descends.
“I’ve never done this before,” he starts emotionally, “naming my car, I mean. I watched Seb do it year after year and I always wondered what that felt like, to have such a connection.” He takes a deep breath, his gaze scanning the audience until it lands on you. “This season, I finally understood. My car, the one that just secured this championship, I named it after the most important person in my life.”
The crowd waits with bated breath.
“I named it,” he continues, his voice breaking slightly as he keeps his eyes locked on yours, “after you. After the woman who has been my anchor, my strength.”
You feel tears prickling your eyes as the sheer intensity of his words hits you.
Charles signals and you’re gently nudged forward, guided up to the podium. The world seems to blur, the noise, the people, everything fading until it’s just you and him.
“Every race, every lap, I had two goals: to win for the team and to make you proud,” he confesses, his eyes never leaving yours. “You are my world. And today, in front of everyone here, in front of the world, I want to ask you one thing.”
He gets down on one knee and your hands move of their own volition to cover your mouth. Producing a gorgeous ring, Charles looks up at you, his eyes shimmering. “Will you marry me?”
The world stops.
The deafening cheers of the crowd seem quiet compared to the beating of your heart.
Tears stream down your face as you nod. “Yes. A thousand times yes.”
No sooner have the words left your mouth than Max and Lando, the other two podium finishers, gleefully seize the moment. With mischievous grins, they uncork their champagne bottles, dousing both you and Charles in a bubbly shower. The liquid gold sparkles in the sunlight, adding to the magic of the moment.
Charles pulls you close, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss as you both get soaked.
***
The grand cathedral, bathed in the soft glow of a thousand candles, echoes with the hushed whispers of eagerly waiting guests. Roses, lilies, and orchids cascade down the pillars, their fragrance mingling with the scent of incense.
Behind the doors of the bridal suite, Max stands beside you, dressed impeccably in a classic tux. There’s a brotherly tenderness in his eyes as he reaches out, smoothing the delicate lace of your dress to ensure that every detail is perfect.
“You look breathtaking,” he murmurs, the emotion of the day making his voice waver.
“You clean up pretty well yourself, Man of Honor,” you reply, squeezing his hand.
As the first strains of the bridal march begin, the doors open, revealing the grand aisle, lined with well-wishers from all corners of the globe. Your father steps up and offers you his arm, his eyes glassy with pride and a hint of melancholy. “Ready, my snow angel?”
You nod, tears of happiness already blurring your vision. The world narrows down to the altar, where Charles stands, back straight in his crisp full dress uniform. As you make your way down the aisle, your eyes lock with his and the universe contracts to that singular point of connection.
Charles’ normally composed features give way as he takes in the sight of you. His eyes, also glistening with tears, convey a depth of feeling that words could never capture. Love, gratitude, wonder — all interwoven in that magnetic gaze.
His voice breaks as he whispers just for you, “You are my dream, my reality, my forever.”
Your own voice is thick with emotion, “And you are my heart, my soul, my love.”
As vows are exchanged and promises made, the world bears witness to a love that defied odds, overcame challenges, and brought together not just two souls but two worlds.
And as you both seal your commitment with a kiss, there is not a single dry eye in the cathedral. Because love, true love, is a force to be reckoned with, and today, it reigns supreme.
***
The soft whimpers of a newborn fill the air of the private birthing suite. Nestled in your arms, wrapped in a royal blue blanket, the baby prince stirs, his tiny fingers curling around one of yours.
Charles, sitting beside you, gazes down at your son with sheer wonder. “He’s perfect,” he says in a teary whisper.
You nod, tears streaming down your face. “Our little miracle.” The journey, the IVF treatments with your frozen eggs , the hope, the fear — everything culminated in this singular, beautiful moment.
The door opens gently, revealing Max, his eyes wide as they take in the sight before him, and your parents, their faces a canvas of joy and pride.
Max approaches tentatively, his usual confidence replaced by an awe-inspired reverence. “May I?” He asks softly.
You nod, handing over the precious bundle. As Max holds the baby, a bond forms instantly. “Hey there, little one,” he coos, “Your godfather is here.”
Your mother, tears in her eyes, leans in, planting a gentle kiss on your son’s forehead. “Welcome to the world, our precious grandchild.”
Your father, hoarse with emotion, simply murmurs, “An angel for our snow angel.”
And you know what? You decide that the fans were right. Your life really is a fairytale.
1K notes · View notes
angel-of-the-moons · 20 days ago
Note
Agsfgs
He's a god of fertility, among other things
Imagine if Y/N prayed to Khonshu for their own fertility and just
Khonshu appears, offers them help with fertility, he gives them a few options. Just the regular magic method of helping or he physically helps them get pregnant... with his child, of course
Like, hot, but also can you imagine praying to a god, they show up and basically say "okay I can help you the normal way, or we can do this the fun way and make a baby together"
Obviously Y/N agreed to have a kid with him cuz like. C'mon. Look at him
He's of course a very attentive father and partner afterward. He's not blind to the struggle new life brings along with the joy
Okay, okay, I know this isn't exactly what you were picturing but--
Wings of A Prayer
Khonshu x Fem!Reader
TW/CW: Infertility problems, mentions of miscarriages, self-doubt, depression, suicidal thoughts, sort of alcoholism, fluff, hinted at sexy times but nothing is pictured, Marc and the boys learn that there's more to the pissy old bird than meets the eye! (Naturally canon-fudging and merging with the comics again) And a major time skip! My personal headcanon that Khonshu looks like Oded Fehr rears its head once more!
A/N: Whew... this one is long! Surprisingly, no smut in this one. But I realized I am sorely lacking on Khonshu fluff since y'all are almost always just as horny for him as I am. I also did some research and... Wow. Some scary stuff. I'm sorry if this strikes a painful chord with some of you. I had to stop writing this a few times and take a break because it was making me tear up.
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It had been... horrible, to say the least. Your life had been one giant trainwreck so far. Your heart had been wanting for something for so long, and... Well...
Your apartment was a gray, flat... hollow living space to you. It was lacking in... something. And that something was a giggly, chubby, cuddly little person. You thought about getting a pet, but... there was an itching inside of you. And itching for something--someone--of your own.
You had been living on your own since cutting off contact with your parents; and dating had been an absolutely dog shit experience since your teen years. But as you got older, and your friends all went their separate ways, living their own lives and starting their own families, you realized... You wanted that. To be the home you never really had growing up, a source of unconditional love and understanding.
You weren't stupid--you did your research beforehand, looked into every legal document you could. Instead of getting pregnant, you'd looked into fostering or adoption.
But you just... you couldn't afford it. The cost of adopting would have bankrupt you, and your increasing financial instability as the economy fluctuated was an obvious deterrent for most agencies. The same was for fostering--you simply worked too much to bre as present as they wanted you to be for a foster placement. And it didn't help that your particular neighborhood wasn't... stellar or "perfect" for a growing child.
The worst insult, perhaps, was when you looked into IVF after adoption and fostering were out of the question. It sounded like the best option, and so you went to your doctor. As uncomfortable and relatively invasive as the pelvic exam and tests were, your doctor assured you a pregnancy was easy enough to accomplish with the fertility treatments if you were able to get into a program.
Only... you hadn't. Your insurance wouldn't even cover half of the procedures, and your heart was sinking at the thought of going bankrupt and not being able to afford the child you so desperately wanted.
That was a low blow, but, you knew you still had options. You could get pregnant naturally. The real trick was finding a man who was willing, healthy, and responsible enough to agree to father your child.
As distasteful as sleeping with someone relatively strange to you was, you made the decision to be tactful. You made a profile on a dating website with the clear intentions that you wished to find a partner that was clean of any STIs, drug or alcohol addictions, and wouldn't cause problems for you if the impregnation was successful.
And of course, you assured that should they not wish it, you wouldn't put them on a birth certificate or come after them for child support. It would be difficult, surely, but you knew you could manage. There was always well-fare and WIC to help out with needs, as well as a few charities you could apply to. Your elderly neighbors even agreed to watch over your baby when it was born because they didn't have any grandchildren of their own; and the presence of a baby would brighten up their droll days when you needed the occasional break.
When you found a partner who was ready and willing to commit to your "requirements"--especially the STI tests with you present to be sure they were not lying--you both agreed to meet several times a week at his apartment to get down to business.
You planned your meetings carefully around your ovulatory and menstrual cycles, drank and ate anything that supposedly "boosted fertility"; and took every vitamin under the sun to help ensure it.
And then, you got the most wonderful news. You had been late on your period for nearly two months. Missing the first month wasn't a cause for alarm; after all, you had relatively irregular periods--which your doctor assured were because of stress and diet problems--and you weren't insistent upon a pregnancy test until you began to get sick during random times of the day or night and your body began to ache in places it hadn't before, such as your breasts.
You got your blood tested at your doctor's office and sure enough... you were pregnant! You reached out to the father when you got home, and after some arrangements, he agreed to send an unofficial check to you for the baby at the start of every month, but he wasn't sure if he could promise to be present for their childhood; which worked fine with you. It was more than you expected, anyways.
You immediately began to budget, alongside with the financial aid of the father of your baby, and began to prep your bedroom into a shared nursery for your impending arrival.
And as you were settling into your new routine and adjusted workload, you awoke during one night with intense vomiting. As you perched over your toilet bowl, pain began to radiate from your abdomen and deep into your body and pelvis, like sharp, pulsing, searing pain from inside of you.
It wasn't until you stood up to wash your face and brush your teeth that you realized you were bleeding. Your sleep shorts stained a disturbing shade of red. You immediately panicked; and simply ignoring the cost of an ambulance, you called 911, and phoned the father of your baby as dread began to soak into every pore.
It wasn't for several hours after all the tests and exams that the doctor from the ER finally came in with a sad, pitiful look on her face as she delivered the news.
You lost your baby.
It felt like the world opened up beneath you and you were swallowed by a void. You didn't even know you screamed until your vision went black around the edges; prompting you to take a much-needed breath. The father of your baby was sympathetic, he talked calmly to you, rubbing your back and speaking with the doctors for you while you struggled to cope.
They kept you for another day (after giving you some pill) to make sure you... passed the remains of the fetus so you didn't get sick from retained products of the conception.
You fell into a deep depression after that.
Weeks afterwards, you were a drone. You woke up, ate, worked, showered, slept, and performed the same duties again and again as if you were on autopilot. The father of your baby, Alain, checked in on you now and again, and at some point even introduced you to his new girlfriend (who was confused by the awkward situation at first, but in seeing what had gone wrong in your life, felt more pity towards you than anything).
Your elderly neighbors cried for you, made you food when you felt the absence of the want to cook or eat; and said they would offer up prayers for you.
You began to hide how... rotten you felt on the inside, after that. You feigned your old, "normal" behavior if not to just get everyone to stop treating you like some... Faberge egg that needed delicate handling. A doll so fragile from trauma and abuse you had to be put on a pedestal to avoid getting any more broken.
But deep inside you, that raw, twisted, pained feeling festered like a bad wound. It worsened when you discovered that your doctor had been horribly, profoundly wrong.
Your reproductive organs weren't in "perfect, healthy" shape. You had uterine scarring that appeared to line up with what was called Asherman's Syndrome. Your uterine cavity, as such, had a buildup of scar tissue and caused it to shrink, and the resulting damage is what likely triggered your miscarriage.
The doctor that had diagnosed your condition became suspicious, and called for an investigation into your primary doctor.
Turns out, he was responsible for many, many misdiagnoses on over a dozen patients. Many of which required some women to have hysterectomies done to save them; or have to be rushed into cancer treatments immediately. One had unfortunately lost her life due to a misdiagnosis and a fallopian torsion that wasn't treated in time. She left behind a husband and three little children who had to grow up without their mother.
The resulting lawsuits caused a media circus; and once again your life was thrown into disarray when you decided to be a part of it, having to recite the trauma of losing your poor, little baby to a bunch of strangers.
Your heart festered with rage. If you had known that your body was incapable of the one fucking thing it should have been able to do naturally, that you were one different decision away from the heartbreak you now suffered--you would never had tried to get pregnant. But like many of his patients, you took his word for it because he seemed so trustworthy. And if you couldn't trust the person your health was so reliant upon... who could you trust?
The doctor lost his license, and went to jail for the wrongful death, medical negligence and manslaughter of the woman he failed to properly diagnose and failed to treat.
The settlements were of little comfort to you all; those who suffered now-lifelong health problems, the family mourning a beloved wife and mother... and you, who mourned the life of the baby you never even got to feel kick, let alone name.
Your neighbors, Ebony and Malcolm Harris; Alain and his now-fiance, Amelia, had formed a bit of a cushion around you. Having an explanation for your misfortune, and then the financial boost from the punishment of the one responsible aided the pain somewhat... But it still hurt you so, so much.
Part of the settlement included paid-for counseling for those affected, and you took it. As dry and sour as it felt to yet again revisit the pain, you went through it.
But it still didn't help you when you looked at the toys, the unused clothes and set-up crib still sitting in your room, never to be used.
You spent a lot of time on the roof of your apartment building, contemplating... something. You wouldn't take the pills the doctor gave you. All they did was make you feel groggy and... numb. That felt worse than the guilt and grief, it didn't help.
You weren't sure anything would. You just wanted the pain to stop. You wanted to feel something, again.
You just wanted to be a mother.
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"Oh, she's so... she's so..." Ebony sniffed, wiping at her eyes with her handkerchief. Malcolm sat next to her, rubbing her shoulders and sniffling himself. They loved you like their own child. They had none to speak of, since their son died overseas almost 20 years ago. You were the first person whom they felt a familial connection with--who didn't treat them as pitiful, childless old folks who were one bad day away from a nursing home.
"We're so scared for her," Malcolm whispered, pursing his lips. Just like his wife, he loved you like a daughter, too. And seeing you so consumed with pain and want hurt him badly. "She's hurting so badly."
"She wanted to be a mama so badly!" Ebony warbled, her wrinkled hands trembling as her husband held her. "That poor baby just wanted her own baby! She was so excited! Showed us everything, talked about it--I even started knitting a blanket!"
Malcom's own nearly-withered features twisted in sympathetic agony, "Please... is there something--anything--you can do for her? Help her, somehow? Like you helped us?"
The man sitting behind the desk kept his hands linked together as he peered over them at the couple. It was true. He had helped them.
When Ebony grew I'l and eventually required dialysis, her body had been becoming increasingly weak and fragile; they were left without options. They tried prayers with pastors and in churches--but it didn't exactly do much with an absent god ignoring another desperate worshipper.
They were nearing the end of their rope when they heard through some whispers about him--the enigmatic "Dr. Moon".
They had only seen his face once, and that was after Ebony was miraculously cured following his strange "treatments", her kidneys back to functioning better than they had in her early 30s. After that, they attended private prayer sessions with him, the second high priest, after Marc Spector, whom he had only really interacted with a handful of times... And did not like how often he went against their god, Khonshu's word.
Begrudgingly, "Dr. Moon", later known to be one Yehya Badr, had started what would be known as the "Midnight Mission" with Spector. In his constant absence, the two agreed that it would work better if Yehya saw to the Mission while Marc traveled to hunt the cult of Ammit, and Khonshu's former high priest, Arthur Harrow.
And, while watching over the Mission and the innocent people... Yehya used his healing abilities and decided to open a free clinic from within the holy place. Many were hesitant to accept treatment from a religious institution, but soon patients and potential followers alike began to trickle in from the streets. People like Ebony and Malcolm.
Yehya felt for the couple and the story they now told him, his brow creasing beneath his white mask, mouth twisting into a pained frown. You sounded on the brink--ready to take one last hurdle into the beyond for the sake of the child you never got to hold.
"Healing something like that..." Yehya sighed sadly, standing up from his chair. The wheels squeaked softly as he pushed it back, and walked to the window that overlooked the street below. "...it won't be easy. I may not be able to do it alone, like when I treated you, Ebony."
"Can't you--can't you call on Him, again? Like you did before?" Malcolm pleaded earnestly. The love these two elders had for you touched him, made his own heart squeeze in his chest.
"Please... if--if His power can come from love, just--just take ours and give it all to her... please!" Ebony sniffled, burying her face in her hands.
Yehya swallowed the lump in his throat and slowly pulled his mask away from his face, walking over to take their hands in each of his. He could feel their heartache through their frail and gentle grip.
"I will see what I can do. Your faith--and love--might help this young woman you two adore so much. But I cannot predict how Khonshu will help her, should he choose to directly get involved."
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Another repetitive day. You managed to force yourself to eat some takeout you had leftover from last night and microwaved that for dinner, eating alone in front of your TV as it droned on with some boring reality show you weren't really paying attention to anymore.
For the eighth time that week you contemplated packing away and donating all the baby items in your apartment. But every time you touched them you just broke down into a sobbing fit; your heart rending itself from the reality of what had gone wrong with you.
You couldn't even bring yourself to go into your bedroom, anymore. Everything was in there.
So, you'd taken to sleeping on your couch for the past few months. You only went into your room long enough to get things you needed, clothes and the like (the former just sitting in clothes hampers unfolded after laundry days) before fleeing in the bland space that was your meager living room.
After you finished eating, you sipped at the hard lemonade in your hand. Drinking to cope was bad, but something inside of you kept you from relying on it too heavily. And you never drank to get drunk; only enough to fuzz your senses enough to let you sleep on some nights.
And tonight was one of those nights.
You were on your fourth lemonade when the lights began to flicker in your apartment; your TV freezing frames when it began. Maybe your landlord was fiddling with the power to the building again?Had a fuse blown to the building? Whatever...
"I don't need this right now..." You grunted, taking a deep swig; one mouthful closer to the bottom of the bottle.
"Wasteful." A disembodied voice rumbled, making a chill creep up your spine.
"I... What--" Your head whipped around as you tried to figure out where it had come from--your TV was still frozen, so it couldn't have been that--you were still relatively sober so it couldn't have possibly been drunken hallucinations.
Suddenly, you jumped and yelled in surprise when the bottle went flying from your hand and smashed to bits on the wall, the drink within running down the drywall in rivulets from the impact.
"What the f--"
"My priest told me of you," The voice hummed. It felt as if something unseen was circling you like a predator does with its prey. "And of the pain you have endured, little one. There are those close to you who pleaded for my aid to help you, to heal you."
You felt the presence stop behind you, crowding you in and making your blood still within you; but you just couldn't bring yourself to turn around. The lights flickered weakly once more before going dead, as did your TV, swallowing you in darkness.
As your eyes adjusted to the inky darkness, this voice's words sunk in. "Heal you". "Help you".
"Who are you?" You swallowed.
"I am the god, Khonshu. I protect the innocent, I bring justice. I heal those that ask for it."
Yeah, no. You must have slipped and hit your head. You remembered Ebony and Malcolm saying they'd pray for you--but this was... this was impossible! But... some aching, gnawing, painful part of your heart begged for you to hear the voice out.
"How could you..." You cleared your throat, trying not to sound as scared as you felt. "How could you help me?"
"That remains to be seen." The voice replied with a thoughtful tone. "How do you wish for me to help you? I was told but precious little of your story--only from those around you. Not from you. What is it you wish my aid for?"
Your eyes slowly move to where you instinctively knew your bedroom door was. Even in the dark, you could feel the depressing aura clinging to the space call out to you like a siren in the black sea. The voice seemed to be able to "see" what you were looking at, as well.
Somehow--this Khonshu knew immediately what you were too scared to voice.
"I see." He told you, his voice growing soft and somber, if a touch sympathetic. His presence leaned away from you.
"You wish for me to heal the damage done inside of you?" He mused gently, "To enable you the ability to bear a child? It is easily enough done; but I sense something else bothering you."
Your hands knotted in the hem of your shirt; your stomach twisting itself into a nasty ball of writhing, anxious snakes.
"I... I can't go through it all, again." You croaked, your voice coming out hoarse. "The stress of finding... I just... I can't. It just... I don't want to--to risk it happening all over again, even if..."
"I see..." He murmurs again, giving you your space to breathe, "Then there may be another option--a guaranteed method--to ensure a healthy pregnancy and a healthy child..."
The way your heart hopefully leapt within your ribcage almost hurt--your stomach dropping into a pit. Sure, you may be going crazy and this could be a hallucination... But would it be so bad to give in, to live in some fantasy to alleviate the pain and grief you've been suffering with for nearly over a year?
"So you... you're... offering to... what, be the father of my baby?" You whispered.
A feather-light touch brushed your arm, the feeling warm and gentle on your skin, "Only if you wish it. I can help you, but only if you want me to. I can heal you, but only if it was what you truly want. When a child is produced, I will ensure there will be no struggles for you and the babe."
"You... promise? That it'll work?"
"I swear it."
You swallowed. Thinking hard.
But some part of you had already made a decision--and that part of you spoke: "Okay."
"Very well, then..." Khonshu murmured.
In the span of a breath, you felt large, warm arms wrap around your waist, tugging you close. And then, the next thing you knew... you were laying on your back, in your bed, with him hovering above your in the dark.
Even with the dim lights in the streets below barely filtering in through your blackout curtains, you couldn't clearly make out his appearance. The shadows that were being cast merely gave you an image that couldn't possibly have been true.
"Can I see you?" You whispered, your heart pounding in your chest.
"Only if you wish it." He reminded you softly, his hand caressing your hip, beginning a slow, sweet trek up beneath your shirt.
"I do."
The dim light of the candle at your bedside table flickered to life--the sweet scent of lavender and vanilla filling your senses.
You finally got to see him. And you weren't afraid.
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Marc felt uneasy as soon as they got off the plane, and Layla soothed him with a touch as she linked her fingers with his. He didn't like being here--the city was teeming with cruelty and injustice... and he knew Khonshu wouldn't let him rest long. Him, Steven, or Jake.
"Marc, just breathe." Layla said to him as she adjusted the strap of her travel bag with one hand, her other squeezing his. "It'll be fine. If Khonshu has a problem with you taking it easy--"
Layla scoffed, blowing a puff of air from out of her cheeks as they walked out of the terminal, Marc hauling their suitcases behind him, their wheels squeaking sadly beneath the weight. Some of their less... legal belongings were being smuggled in and would be delivered to their destination later in the night.
"Well, the old bastard can deal with it. I'ma here, and I'll pick up the slack if I gotta." She assured him.
Marc's shoulders sag; he can feel Jake plucking at the edges of his mind, giving him gentle reassurances and his oath that if anything happened; he would be the one to bear the brunt of Khonshu's work in his stead. Even Steven spoke up to voice his assurances that all would be well--after all, they had Layla with them!
"Yeah," He sighed, smiling at her and bringing her hand to his lips to kiss her knuckles, "You're right. It's also just..."
"Just..?" She led on, quirking a brow at him.
"The last time Badr and I spoke, it kinda ended in a fist fight." He smiled warily.
"Oh, gods, of course it did..." She snorted.
"I mean, I shattered his nose and he broke one of my knees, so... Yeah. Bad." Marc grinned, earning an elbow to the ribs from his lovely wife.
"Can it, Spector. Don't make me worry about you even more!" She laughed with him.
"Ouch!" A man holding a dry erase board laughed; the writing on his sign clearly stating "SPECTOR" in bold black letters on it. He stood in front of a pristine white car. It was Marc's. Or, well... apparently it was Jake's... A purchase he'd made without Marc's knowledge at some point... like the limo back in London.
Jake would apparently make spare cash when he would take over while Marc slept and Steven lay buried. All without their knowledge, of course...
"Hitting you with the Spectorrrr, is she?" Jean-Paul grinned, his thin, pointed mustache quirking like a fidgety caterpillar. "So cruel!"
"Well, he deserves it." Layla grinned, leaning in to hug him, "Frenchy! So good to see you! How've you been? How's Rob?"
"Happy as a clam in some nice clean water! And my physical therapy has almost concluded." Jean-Paul smiled, kissing each of Layla's cheeks in an affectionate greeting when she asked about his lover.
He lifted his eyes to spot Marc, bringing him in with a closed fist to give a shoulder-hug, "I'm glad you've gotten yourself sorted, Marc. Rob and I were worried about you!"
"As sorted as a guy with two other guys living inside his head that's in service to a pissy god can be, anyways..."
"Ahhh... Right. Right." Jean-Paul said, clicking his teeth as he popped the trunk to the car so Layla and Marc could load their things up. He opened up the back door for them to climb into the backseat."
"Hey, I can always drive us, Duchamp." Marc smirked at him, the corners of his eyes creasing in humor, "After all... it is technically my car."
"No, no--" Jean-Paul grinned, his eyes twinkling with mirth. "Let me do it, c'mon. It gives me something to do, today!"
Layla nudged Marc with a giggle and he relented, climbing in behind her.
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Marc sighed as Jean-Paul helped them unload their bags, his eyes following Marc and Layla's to the building in front of them; the doors decorated with carved crescent moons in the frosted glass.
He had been to the Midnight Mission only a handful of times--and every one of those times was to assist Marc as his pilot during intense missions for Khonshu. And he of course met Yehya Badr, the two men had a respectful relationship. He himself had conducted a few healing rituals to help with the phantom pains Jean-Paul occasionally felt in his legs.
But he knew that Badr and Marc didn't always get along; Yehya being a die-hard and devout follower of Khonshu and Marc being a bit of a renegade who tended to go against his word and do things his own way. And he knew it had been a few years since the two parted on... well--rather bad terms.
"Well, better get the torture and inevitable lecture over with..." Marc grunted, shouldering one of the duffels. Layla helps gather the rest, letting Jean-Paul close the door and trunk.
As they crossed the threshold, Jean-Paul winced, "Oh, right! There's something you should know about, by the way..."
Marc looked at him over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow. "What is it?"
"Well, Yehya isn't the only one who lives in the Mission anymore." Jean-Paul grinned as their floors squeaked on the waxed marble floors.
"Okay, and...?"
He rubbed his mustache with his index finger, smiling a little bashfully as he looked away. "Well, er... it's kinda... Uh, awkward... Well, I mean, that is--"
"Spit it out, Frenchy." Layla smiled, rolling her eyes.
A door could be heard swinging open from somewhere down the hall as they leave the foyer, and Frenchie laughed, grinning from ear to ear as a small, rambunctious human suddenly appeared, colliding with Marc's legs and wrapping her arms around his legs and giggling.
"Daddy!" She giggled excitedly, rubbing her face on his jeans.
Marc on the other hand, began to immediately panic--his eyes going wide as he looked to Layla, whom in turn looked at Marc with her eyebrows risen the highest on her brow Marc has ever seen--awaiting an explanation.
Marc began to sweat, "Baby, I swear to God I didn't--"
The child looked up at him, and frowned. Her little brows creased and she pouted, her bottom lip poking out as she studied Marc. "...Oh." She said dejectedly, sighing deeply. "You're not my Daddy."
Marc's heart felt like it was gonna explode--Jake and Steven had come to co-front to see what all the fuss and anxiety was about. Steven immediately began to go on about how darling the girl was, her shiny and clear her eyes were--how smart and at the same time seemingly ancient they looked. Like polished obsidian stones, a dazzling array of lights shimmering from somewhere deep within.
Jean-Paul laughed and clapped his hands, his face turning red from the force of his laughter. The child brightened up and rushed towards him, allowing him to scooped her up and swing her in a circle, "Hello, petit gâteau!" He crooned, kissing the girl's cheeks.
"Uncle Frenchy!" She giggled as he swung her around one last time before setting her down.
"Yes, yes, it's been a while! A whole week!" He grinned down at her, letting her hang off of his hand. She swung from it for a moment, studying Marc and Layla curiously, the fabric of her dress flowing almost like water as she did so.
"This is--well, I guess this could technically be your... er..." Jean-Paul smiled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Your big brother Marc? And Layla, his wife."
Marc and Layla's jaws dropped, their confusion and curiosity only growing more and more.
(Oh, this'll be good...) Jake snickered, rubbing his chin. Through their reflections in a nearby portrait, Marc could see Steven elbow him.
'Ay, lay off! We can be curious without bein' rude about it, yeah?' The Brit huffed.
Jean-Paul was about to explain, but...
"Savah!" You sighed in relief, running out to see them. You knew Jean-Paul, from his healing sessions with Yehya and how he loved to babysit your daughter. He was apparently a trusted friend and ally of "Moon Knight's" so you knew he was harmless.
"I... agh. I'm so sorry if she jumped you..." You smiled apologetically at them as you scooped her up, bouncing the tot on your hip as she giggled into her hands. "We were playing hide and seek--and she must have slipped out when I wasn't paying attention!"
Steven couldn't help but squee at how adorable the girl was, Jake had to concede that, yes... she was stinkin' adorable. Even Marc was having a hard time arguing the point, and he was very, very awkward with kids.
"Savah, it's one thing to go up and hug your Uncle Frenchy, but it's another to go up to strangers you don't know." You say, gently scolding her. Her little grin falters, and she frowns cutely.
"I felt it... I thought it was Daddy..." She mumbled, plucking at one of the buttons in your blouse.
"Felt" it?" You asked, raising an eyebrow and looking back at Marc and Layla.
"Right! That brings us to the introductions, eh?" Jean-Paul spoke up, rubbing his hands together. "This is Layla el Faouly--er, well, actually Spector now, ain't it?--and Marc Spector, her husband. He's the Moon Knight."
Marc jumped, his eyes going wide at how casually Jean-Paul had introduced him with his mystical alter-ego, barely even registering it when he introduced you by name; "And this lovely little bon bon, is Savah, her daughter."
"Ohhhh..." You said, your posture relaxing, "That's why she got her "funny" feeling! Sorry, she thought you were her dad."
"I, uh... No harm no foul, but..." Marc laughed nervously, smoothing his hair back, "I could've lived without the heart attack of me possibly blacking out and oops'ing a baby with somebody at some point in time..."
Layla actually laughed, "Oh, please... like you have game with anyone but me, Marc."
He looked at Layla and deadpanned; "Yeah, well, you'd be surprised at how many people swoon for Jake's "Spanish charm"."
You blinked, looking at Jean-Paul for an explanation, and he gestured to continue down the hall, "Ah... let's go and... get some tea, hm? Explain a little bit."
"Right, right, I've never actually met this one." You reply, nodding.
"Mhmm, and he definitely doesn't know about you."
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Basic introductions happened over warm cups of tea in one of the furnished rooms off the foyer. Badr had shaken hands with Marc, surprisingly polite and almost friendly before he briefly turned his attention to little Savah, helping fix her doll she had accidentally popped the leg off of when she got too rough, and ruffled her hair before leaving once more.
However... Jean-Paul had yet to fully introduce the two of you to the couple. He mostly let Marc and Layla explain who they were, and what they had been doing. Since obviously, you were so trusted as to even know about Yehya's identity as Hunter's Moon; they trusted to tell you about hunting Ammit, and ultimately defeating her.
It was less than an half an hour after that, that Savah suddenly perked up again, hopping up and down into place, her eyes sparkling even brighter. The glimmering lights in her dark depths caught Marc's attention, stopping him dead in the middle of his sentence, "Uh..."
"Oh... look's like he's home after all... wonder what he was waiting for?" You muse, smiling at your daughter happily, watching her as she ran to the door when it began to open.
A man walked in, then; with tanned ski, graying black hair, and a short beard walked in; his white suit crisp and immaculate. His hazel eyes were stern, his chiseled features only softening as Savah rushed up to him, holding her arms up expectantly until he picked her up and cradled her body gently against his, kissing her forehead gently.
"Daddy!" She squealed, giggling as she tried to wrap her tiny arms around him. It was now pointedly obvious this man was indeed to be her father--especially because of how many of his facial aspects she had. She had your skin tone and hair color, but certainly had his looks...
You rose from your cushioned seat and walked over to them, brushing your nose affectionately against his with a smile as he wrapped an arm around your waist.
"See? See?" Savah said excitedly, grinning like mad. "I told you I felt Daddy! I always do!"
"Yeah, you do, munchkin. Yeah, you do." You snorted, shaking your head.
Jean-Paul cleared his throat and awkwardly stepped around the three of you; "Well... I guess I don't have to do the rest of the introductions after all... I'll see you two later!"
"Bye bye!" Savah called out to him as the door shut with a faint click behind him.
Savah's father looked at Marc with a rather bored expression, almost... annoyed, really. Gave Layla the same look, as well. Marc rolled his shoulder stiffly, suddenly very uncomfortable under his unflinching gaze.
"It took the both of you long enough to get here." He said in almost a sneer; his voice unmistakably, painfully familiar.
Layla and Marc shot to their feet, almost falling over themselves as the realization dawned on them. Jake and Steven were in an uproar within Marc's mind.
"Khonshu?!" They both cried.
His brow quirked upward in an unimpressed gesture, "Gah. How can you two be so perceptive when hunting artifacts and evildoers, but cannot pick up on this? I am disappointed in you, Marc. You should have figured it out, first."
"Th-that's why her... her eyes--?!" He sputtered.
Finally, the corner of Khonshu's mouth tilts upwards in a cocky smirk; his eyes flashed an almost blinding white. And when Savah looked at the both of them, they could see the lights in her eyes swirl and shine even brighter in tune with Khonshu's, shifting and dancing until they briefly solidified in an unmistakable crescent-shape before parting in a fractured dance, again.
"Yes, this is my daughter." He stated proudly, his arm tightening around you a fraction, "And my wife."
"Wife, huh? When did that happen?" You snorted, giving him a snarky look.
"I assumed it happened sometime after Savah was born." He hummed, his snark matching your own, "After all, you live under my roof, mother my child, sleep in our bed..."
You rolled your eyes and elbowed him, "Smartass."
You looked at the couple across the room and smiled awkwardly, "I never did get to explain much... But, since that's outta the way... mind explaining to me why there's such a weird vibe in the room, right now?"
Marc and Layla merely blinked at you, before once again exclaiming in unison:
"You had Khonshu's god-baby?!"
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prolife-is-prolie · 1 year ago
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I celebrated Roe V Wade being overturned. I am now being investigated for having a miscarriage.
"The happiest moment in my life was when I said "I do" to my husband seven years ago. My second happiest moment was at the Supreme Court building on June 24, 2022. Seeing an endless sea of happy, cheerful faces, the champagne bottles being popped open, watching as bubbles floated on by, the feeling was electric! Babies were going to be saved!
And then a year later, on June 24, 2023, the third happiest moment in my life occurred. The two faint lines revealed themselves on the pregnancy test. I was pregnant! Finally! After years of hoping, praying, and multiple IVF treatments, I was finally pregnant! Life was perfect. My husband took me out to dinner and he never left my side the whole night. He came home from work one day with a giant book of baby names. It didn't take us long to decide: Ophelia if it was a girl, and Benson if it was a boy.
I thanked the Lord for gifting me with a happy marriage and a baby that I prayed so much for. But the Lord had other plans. August 23, 2023, my world came crashing down. I woke from a deep sleep and was overcome with painful cramps. I looked under the blanket and was horrified by what I saw: A huge puddle of red. I ran to the bathroom and sat on the toilet and I cried. I was having a miscarriage.
My husband woke up and noticed the puddle of blood. I've never seen him look so scared in my life. He hugged me while I sat and bled on the toilet. We then stripped down and got in the shower, where he held me, not caring about the blood running down my legs. I scheduled an emergency doctor's appointment for later in the day. The doctor confirmed our worst fear, I had a complete miscarriage. There wasn't anything more that could be done.
I sat on the table in that cold room while I waited for the doctor to come back with my paperwork. I was completely numb. I had no more tears left to cry. My husband stood by me and held my hand while we waited. And then we heard the knock on the door. We were expecting the doctor to enter. Instead, we were met with a couple of police officers.
My husband and I were escorted to the police station. It was there that we were informed that my miscarriage was deemed suspicious. The officers told us that due to the fact that we lived in a pro-life state, this was the new protocol. My husband and I were each taken to separate interview rooms, where we were questioned for six hours. I was asked a variety of questions:
What did I do the night before miscarrying?
Did I have a fall that could have caused the miscarriage?
Did I intentionally cause trauma to my abdomen to induce a miscarriage?
Did I take abortion pills?
Could my husband have slipped abortion pills into my drink?
At first, I tried to be understanding, but that quickly turned to anger. They were accusing my husband and me of purposefully killing our baby. I told the interviewer over and over that we wanted our baby and that we would do nothing to cause harm to our baby. After six hours, the questions let up. The interviewer left the room and I instantly broke down in tears again.
I cried for the baby I lost. I cried because my husband and I were being accused of killing our baby. I cried because I felt like nobody was listening to me. And I cried because this is what pro-choicers said would happen when Roe was overturned. Everything that they said would happen was happening.
Miscarriages were being investigated as murders. Children were being forced to give birth to their rapists' babies. Babies were being born and discarded in trash cans and dumpsters. And we have not done a damn thing about any of this. My husband and I were released, but not before being told that we weren't allowed to leave town due to the fact that we were being investigated.
I read articles about the women in Texas suing the state because of the anti-abortion laws. I read about the 13-year-old girl who gave birth to a baby she did not want. I read about the 11-year-old who had to flee her home state to get an abortion, only for the doctor who performed the abortion to get fined. I felt sick to my stomach reading these stories. And once again, my sorrow was replaced with anger.
I thought back to what I thought was one of the happiest moments of my life, Roe V Wade being overturned. In my mind, the happy smiles that I saw were suddenly replaced with evil snarls. The champagne that was popped was replaced with acid. The bubbles became heavy glass and they fell to the ground. My god, what have we done?
I forwarded the articles to my husband and I saw all color leave his face. The night after our interrogations, we ate dinner in silence. After knowing this man for 17 years and being married to him for seven of those years, he didn't need to talk for me to know what he was thinking. And I agreed with him:
Overturning Roe V Wade was a huge mistake."
-Constance, 37.
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nocturni3 · 2 years ago
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Miguel O’Hara x male reader: Daddy appreciation
Top reader
(TW: incorrect Spanish I’m not a Spanish speaker sorry, praise kink, IVF reference, infertility issues, depression, infertility treatment, IVF struggles, fatherhood, anal sex, handjob, body worship, doggy style, becoming parents, celebrating, slight daddy kink, slight public teasing, slight car sex, edging, stomach bulge, breeding kink, submissive headspace)
Months passed since the two lovers became engaged and things couldn’t be better for them both. It was as though things were beginning to look up for both Miguel and M/n as they moved outside the city; away from the loud noises, most of the crime, the stresses of Miguel being spiderman.
After Tyler Stone vanished after his failed attempt at getting his CEO position back from Miguel, Alchemax was slowly turning into a big corporation that began to take the city's poor and lower classes protests seriously. A corporation that both M/n and Miguel could be proud to work for.
With the help of Miguel’s mother as his secretary much to both men’s surprise she was good at both being a threatening force and yet a silvered tongued negotiator. What’s more M/n’s department got more funding to extend a larger hand in downtown clinics and ERs providing them with the newest and safest tech during surgeries, and treating illnesses and diseases that had been neglected by Tyler Stone.
It allowed M/n to move all his major work as head of the medical engineering department to their home; it felt unreal as though this shouldn’t have been possible for Miguel to live happily in a loving relationship with a house, and a ring on both fingers. Spiderman was needed less and less as most of the villains that littered the city were falling back into the shadows with Alchemaxs change of CEO, the change needed for a better future for everyone.
Looking around his new and much larger office that Miguel shared with M/n; he sighs, taking off his tinted glasses as he shuts the hologram screen off; after signing off another approval for the start of a more powerful environmental power grid to be placed downtown. To help clean the pollution and gasses that permeated the air quality.
Rubbing his sore eyes Miguel sighed as he leaned back in his chair, allowing himself to breathe in the smell of M/n cooking them both an early lunch before their doctor appointment. An appointment they both were excited but scared to go too. After all it would be their 5th appointment of seeing if Miguel’s constant supplements had helped any with his sperm count; one of many side effects of his DNA being spliced with a spider. An effect he hated, despised so much that Miguel was losing hope with each failed test, with each failed attempt at fertilizing the donor's eggs; eggs that were running low with each failed appointment.
Miguel had his fair share of breakdowns as this was their best chance to have a kid, as M/n was deemed infertile the second round of IVF. A fact that had broken the two men; a hard fact that had all the pressure placed on Miguel which M/n tried his best to help Miguel through, but there was only so much his love and support to ease the pain and hole forming in Miguel’s chest each time they got the news of yet another failure.
Even with technically advancing the way it has been compared to the early versions of IVF in the early and mid 2000’s to now with the child being grown in a womb like environment eliminating the risk of miscarriage by a large margin.
There was only so much technology can fix when it came to a genetic code being altered in the way Miguel’s has. Only so much injections of enhanced vitamins could do for a body that was genetically modified, only so much it could fix an already broken-
“Miguel hun, lunch is ready! And your medicine too love
Miguel groaned, rubbing his face even more as the knot in his stomachs made it harder for him to want to eat anything. Made the decision to just ignore this one appointment to just wallow in his own self pity; maybe then Miguel wouldn’t need to take anymore injections. Resting his arms on the glass surface of his office table Miguel felt the tired, mental exhausted tears start to purs into his eyes as he tried his best to control the painful knot in his chest at the thought of this appointment being another nail in his self worth.
M/n looked at the still closed door of Miguel’s and his office. Seeing no sign of Miguel coming out M/n whipped his flour covered hands looking at the plate of hot steaming beef and veggie empanadas he had just finished cooking .
A recipe Conchata had given him after the two revealed their engagement to Miguel’s family; who all accepted the fact it was either accept the two for their love of the other or they’d lose Miguel for good.
M/n remembered holding Miguel’s hand throughout the entire exchange. He still held his finances hand through this difficult time in their lives; wanting to have a child to call their own. M/n despised not being about to take all the weight off of Miguel; he wished he could be the one going through the bull of the stress and pressure of these appointments.
But he wasn’t…he was completely infertile; the Lilly hood of him having a kid even with IVF was zero. The least he could do for Miguel was make him as comfortable as he could for as long as the both of them wanted to keep trying.
After all it was ‘through sickness or health, til death’; the ring on his finger made it all a reality. They were starting the next chapter of their lives together. The wedding was all set up, the venue paid for, their suits tailored and ready. They bought a house! But even that wasn’t enough for what their hearts truly craved for a child; a kid they could both raise and watch grow up with two loving parents; far from the toxic lives the both of them had to endure.
They just had to wait and hope that this appointment was anything but good news for them. Placing the dirty kitchen towel on the counter M/n dusted what was left of flours and spices on his shirt. Before making his way to the closed black door of their modern homes office.
A light knock echoed throughout the house as m/n waited with baited breath for Miguel to answer him. Give him time to regain his composure before m/n enters.
Lyla looked over to Miguel who quickly wiped away the stray tears that escaped his normally composed face. She saw how much the two wanted a kid, even going as far as to pick out names ahead of time while planning their wedding. Even though she was sentient now she was still very limited on what she could do to help.
“Miguel”
“Hm”
Lyla forced a smile as she appeared next to Miguel’s shoulder, leaning over to look into his eyes getting his attention.
“M/n made your favorite!”
Lyla smile widen seeing Miguel’s frown turn into a small smile, as he scoffs his face turning a shade of red as he once again mumbled,
“Shock, ¿qué hice para merecer a alguien como él?”
Lyla disappeared and reappeared, informing Miguel, smiling as she pulled at a holo pad tilting her glasses down on her nose as she spoke in a joking assertive voice.
“Ah well let’s see, you and hot stuff over there met, we’re friends for four years and in that same year became boyfriends, then from then on you two dated, kissed, kissed, oh wow looky! Nope, more kissing, proposal and now you two are trying for a kid!”
Lyla froze her small bit hitting a sore subject as she tossed the holo pad over her shoulder listening to it canish in pixels as she turned to see Miguel’s face turn hopeless once more.
“Trying and failing-“
Lyla quickly appeared in front of Miguel shushing him.
“Listen here! And listen closely Miguel, you're not failing! You and M/n aren’t failing at anything, you’ll see Miguel things will start looking up for the both of you-“
A soft knock at the door was heard as M/n’s voice spoke up. His voice was soft, calming, warm as he spoke to Miguel.
“Hun are you okay? Is it okay if I come in?”
Clearing his throat Miguel waved Lyla away who huffed as she disappeared to another part of the house, continuing her installment of security measures.
“You don’t have to ask, this is your office too”
The door Jared opens revealing m/n whose clothes even after his attempt at dusting them off still had flour sticking to his shirt. Miguel smiled at M/n who made his way into their shared office, his eyes falling on the old day of the dead costume now turned spiderman suit that now mostly stayed locked for the time being behind a glass case.
The memories of Miguel saving him from a hostage and mugging, the moments the both of them spent in the other's arms comforting the other. loving each other with all their heart; Looking over to Miguel who began to fidget slightly as he started getting up only for M/n to make his way over to the stressed out man in front of him, placing his hands to Miguel’s tensed shoulders gently pushing him back into the comfortable office chair. Before leaning over the man who's had too much stress placed on his shoulders.
Leaning down M/n smiled his lips grazing Miguel’s, as he spoke his own hands running down Miguel’s muscular shoulders to his thighs massaging the even more tensed muscles. His hot breath landed against Miguel’s now parted lips as his focus turned from the stresses of their appointment to a need for a taste of M/n.
Miguel took in his fiancés appearance, his s/c skin that always seemed to glow anytime Miguel layed eyes on him, his H/l H/c hair that always managed to fall in the right places to frame his handsome features just right; enough to take Miguel’s breath away even after all these years Miguel would somehow still be flustered by the man in front of him.
“I know, but I figured you needed some time to yourself, didn’t want to interrupt your work mr. Sexy CEO”
M/n purred, closing the distance between their lips. Miguel sighed, feeling his entire body feel lighter as his hands reached up to take hold of M/n’s jaw gently rubbing it as they kissed.
The rhythm they kissed, the soft yet yearning for the others lips even after they had pulled away left the two nearly breathless as they stared at the other.
M/n smiled, leaning his face into Miguel’s hand, his own reaching for Miguel’s as they simply took in the atmosphere of this moment. The smell of food filling the air reminded the two of the meal waiting for them. Miguel sighed his face that had once been soft and relaxed after so long of stress now tensed at the approaching appointment. Another disappointment-
M/n kissed Miguel’s temple, feeling the pulse of the stressed out man in front of him who’s heart was beating rapidly.
“I know that face hun; this appointment has to be good news-“
“And what if it isn’t!”
Miguel shut his mouth at his outburst, his eyes burning once more that the thought of their doctors telling the couple more bad news or worse she’d tell them Miguel's sperm fertility was just not improving…that.
“Hun, it’s not hopeless, shock don’t say that anything but that, please.”
M/n’s voice creaked, he shook his head shoving his own feelings down, focusing on what he should say to Miguel who was losing hope.
“What else should I say, Cada visita es solo una pérdida de tiempo. I want to raise a kid with you so badly; I want to have a normal family with no strings attached…but every time we try Esta maldita genética mutante todavía lo arruina todo!”
M/n wiped away Miguel’s tears, ignoring his own that streamed down his face. They wanted to complete their family so badly, to raise their own family, to live a normal calm life. Seeing the man in front of him break down, his heart wide open and exposed, raw with grief and self hatred. He hated seeing Miguel so broken; going from a confident, strong headed, sarcastic hot shot to a broken mess in his arms M/n wanted to just take all the pain away.
“Miguel don’t say that”
“But it’s true, if I never tried to cure myself, never got my genetic code rewritten with a spider we wouldn’t-“
“I wouldn’t be alive”
“Huh-“
“Miguel, if none of this happened to you, if you never became spiderman…I would’ve died that night. Spiderman wouldn’t have saved so many lives, and even if you weren’t spiderman we both know you wouldn’t have just sat by and watched Alchemax keep hurting people. Things happen in ways that force us all to adapt, evolve in ways that shock even ourselves, be it in a positive or negative light. But don’t ever hate yourself ever, no matter what happens now to the future miguel I’m just happy to have you in my life, to have a kid with you and we will Miggy we just have to be patient a little bit longer”
Miguel leaned his head into the crook of m/n’s neck as he let out a shaky breath, wrapping his arms around m/n waist and back breathing in his scent. Mixed with expensive cologne and food had Miguel’s heart lighten; feeling truly at home in m/n’s arms, holding his soon to be husband.
“Estoy tan cansado de esperar”
“Oh hun I know, I know but we have to try and stay positive the best we can…which food can help com one handsome let’s eat and get you your injection before the doctor tears our heads off”
“Ugh, shock not another shot”
M/n stood up taking Miguel’s hand pulling him up from his chair pulling the muscular taller man against his own chest. The sounds of birds outside singing with the distant sounds of yard drones cutting the neighbors yards. It felt truly like home, staring down at M/n who caressed Miguel’s jaw luring him down for a peak.
“It’s just a small prick, besides hun I made your favorite food; managed to get your mom’s recipe”
Miguel peaked those intoxicating lips once more, his arms wrapping behind his lover's head. Untaloned Mighuel ran his fingers through the soft hair; gently tugging out knots as he gazed into the E/c eyes that stared back at him with such love it only luring him in even more; a siren song with no dangers.
“And how did you manage to do that? That woman keeps her recipes closer to her heart then that hun of hers”
Smirked, M/n flipped his head to the side, side eyeing Miguel.
“I have my ways, she’s not so secretive if you hang her dirty laundry out in front of her. Besides, it’s the least she could do after dragging our love through the mud. Now stop deflecting, let's eat before we go okay. And Miguel I love you just remember that no matter what I love you”
Leaning down Miguel pressed the twos for heads together, smiling allowing his teeth to show. His old confidence came back in full; feel much better than before.
~~~~~~
At that moment he was, but now that the couple sat in their room waiting for their reproductive endocrinologist Miguel became an anxiety riddled mess as he sat on top of the examination table trying to at the very least keep his talons in check as to not hurt the hand that was intertwined with his.
“Shh babe, just remember to breathe okay.”
Miguel tried to follow m/ns advice but even that wasn’t helping as Miguel squeezed his hand slightly as he kept his eyes moving around the room, reading the small posters featuring information on IVF and it’s almost beaconful message of;
‘We make families whole!’
Scoffing Miguel looked over to M/n who had his full attention on rubbing Miguel’s clenched hand, trying to sooth Miguel’s anxiety. Realizing he was hurting him Miguel eased his grip on his reassuring fiancé who leaned over in his chair placing a tame kiss upon Miguel’s quivering one.
His voice was like satin, soft and calming as he spoke with such confidence Miguel yearned to have such hope like M/n had.
“She’ll be here real soon hun, they are very busy today”
“I know but we’ve been waiting for an hour! Can they get this over with-“
“Hey now what did we talk about in the taxi hun?”
Miguel wanted to cop attitude but seeing the look M/n gave him Miguel sighed, taking a deep breath calming his already breaking heart at the news he knew they’d get once again. Breathing out Miguel pressed his head against M/n’s staring at their interwoven hands staring at the red diamond that sat set into the tungsten carbide band engraved with the couples most charashed phrase,
‘Mi única luz en la vida’
Words Miguel knew were far more truer now than ever before. His gaze soon fell to staring at m/n who smiled softly, even though he looked hopeful Miguel sensed he was just as much of a nervous wreck as he was.
“Try and stay hopeful-“
A small knock interrupted the couples thoughts as their doctor walked in, her holo pad along with her AI who processed the data came walking in. She was anything but a straight to the point, take not shot doctor. As she looked up her glasses caught the bright lights that had Miguel wearing his tinted sunglasses.
“Mr.O’Hara and Mr.L/N; I know you both what nothing more then to know the news-“
M/n smiled his voice loud and excited as he gave Miguel’s hand a slight squeeze as he spoke.
“Do we ever, it’s good news right doc?”
Miguel felt his fiancés hands shaking as they clasped over Miguel’s. Who now comforted M/n as his voice cracked some. Miguel clenched his teeth as tears began to gather.
“You both have been going through the highest levels of IVF, the most expensive treatments for infertility in men your age group and on top of that 5 separate appoints with no promising outcomes-“
‘Here it comes-‘
“Which is why I’m pleased to tell you both good news!”
Tears fell from Miguel’s eyes as he looked at the doctor, his and M/n’s hands gripping earthers tightly as the news left the doctors lips, her smile widening as she call for her AI to pull up the photos of a artificial womb with a small fetus floating within a time counting down twirls the date their child would be ‘born’.
“You both will be proud dads of a healthy baby girl! Congratulations!”
M/n yelled out pulling Miguel into a tight embrace, tears streaming down both soon to dads faces. Miguel began crying as well as he gripped the back of M/n’s shirt as he sobbed in pure relief of happiness. Almost disbelief as they stared at the photo given to the two of the child’s ‘ultrasound’. Standing up M/n wrapped his arm around Miguel’s waist as he asked the doctor questions Miguel didn’t bother to pay attention to as he held the photo in his hands, seeing their baby, their own daughter! Alive and healthy, a clear bill of health.
“When will she be fully developed I know this kind of new technology is recently upgraded and such with nutrition and growth potential en-“
“She’ll be born and ready for the both of you to take her home in around 3 months as long as she stays on the growth patterns she’s been showcasing. Rest assured mr.m/l, ohara we’re ensuring this little princess will be well taking cared of and safe”
Both parents sighed at the news, Miguel looked over to M/n who looked about ready to start crying himself at the news. The news they’ve been waiting for so long; was coming true, they’ll be parents with a baby girl running around. A strong, healthy baby girl.
“Now then I’ll just be right outside filling out your paperwork make sure to talk to the front office for your own paperwork to fill out, her name, legal parents that sort of thing, nothing to serious”
Miguel still could barely believe it even as he looked back down at the ultrasound seeing the small fetus that would soon grow into a baby; Their baby, migue leaned his body weight against M/n who smiled tears filling his own eyes as he held his fiancé.
“Thank you Dr.Lee, I-I don’t know how to even word just how much this means to us.”
Dr.lee smiled, placing a hand upon the couple's still interwoven hand.
“No need to thank me for doing my job, and once again congratulations Mr.l/n, Mr. ohara”
The door closed behind the doctor giving the new parents time to process the news of their daughter. M/n squeezed Miguel’s body closer to his as the two stood looking at the small ultrasound of their daughter. M/n smiled as Miguel's lips crashed against his own in a raw emotional moment of tears of both fathers, as overjoyed tears streamed down their faces: as all the stress and heartache finally vanished after months of wanting and waiting for this same news.
“W-we’re having a baby”
M/n smiled down at Miguel pulling his body flushed against his chest his hands gripping him by his waist his fingers soon running up Miguel’s white long sleeve shirt messaging the tension in his back out. Littering Miguel’s tear stain face with peaks with sweet nothings.
“ we’re having a little Gabriella, you did it hun; shock im so happy right now!”
Miguel’s eyes brightened kissing M/n back with a new found exuberance at the realization of this being real. That this was happening, that they were starting a family together. With a daughter they both always wanted Miguel’s hands wrapped around m/n’s neck basking in the joy the two felt,
“I guess this is the part I admit you were right?”
Laughing m/n held Miguel’s face in his hands leaning close enough for their noses to touch.
“Nah, I mean sure it’s nice to be proven right but now all I care about is that our daughter is safe and healthy and taking you out to celebrate…maybe invite the family?”
Miguel laughed, nudging his nose against m/ns shaking his head.
“You just wanna show off Gabriella don’t you”
“And why shouldn’t I? After all she’s our daughter, our strong, healthy, beautiful baby”
~~~~~
M/n couldn’t keep his hands to himself during dinner; and how could he? With Miguel sitting beside him as he spoke to Gabriel who seemed more distant and out of it, Miguel tried not to get sidetracked with the hand that slowly moved its way farther up his thigh. But the more he tried to ignore the hand that rubbed up and down his thigh getting closer to his slowly stirring cock. Trying to calm his body’s reaction Miguel tried asking Gabriel how his own fiancé was doing with her pregnancy.
“Oh she’s fine…when she’s not obsessing over spiderman. After all he’s the protector of the people right?-aye mamá! ¿Para qué era eso!”
Gabriel winced as Conchata hit the back of his head with his palm as she finished drinking her drink. Setting the drink down she turned to Gabe who seemed to know he messed up poorly as she began talking in her authoritative voice that made even Miguel tense up as. M/n tore his eyes away from the uncomfortable situation of watching an adult being ridiculed by his own mother.
“that was for disrespecting the man who managed to keep downtown safe while your stupid fiance and her useless rebel group got in spider man's way most of the time!El hecho de que esa rata sin hogar te haya abierto las piernas no significa que empieces a faltarle el respeto al hombre que está ayudando a tu hermano a sacar el crimen de las calles.”
Miguel had to force his face to stay as blank as he could as he took a bite from his meal, staring at the two members of his family arguing. While trying his best to not buckle against M/n's hand that now cupped his covered cock in his hand.
Messaging the area with a straight face side eyeing Miguel with a look that had Miguel’s stomachs knot up with lust; his cock throbbed against M/n’s hand earning Miguel a smile from M/n as his attention turn back to his mother and brother who were in an argument that was gaining some attention from the other people eating; clearing his throat M/n smiled at the two as he spoke a lovable tone calmed the two in laws down as he spoke.
“What we wanted to tell you both is that well…Miguel did we grab the photos?”
Miguel took a sip of his drink, nodding clearing his throat as he reached into his pocket grabbing the two ultrasound of the IVF womb with their soon to be daughter inside looking in her seventh month. Miguel’s hands shook not from nervousness even though he knew his mother and brother would take it as such but that was far from the reason he was quivering as the hand messaging his slowly hardening cock rubbed and cupped around him firmer.
“Mamá, Gabriel y M/N y yo estamos teniendo un bebé.”
Miguel’s smile widened, handing his mom and baby brother their own ultrasound pictures of his and M/ns baby girl.Gabriel practically yanked the ultrasound out of Miguel’s hand only for his scowl to turn into a look of pure adoring as he looked at his niece, his face beaming at the small image.
Conchata grabbed a hold of the small photo looking at the ultrasound . The stoic scowl that seemed to always be stuck on her face vanished as she looked down at the photo running his hand over the polished image of the baby curled up covering its face.
“Do you know the gender yet?”
Her voice softened as she stared over at the couple who looked at one another for permission. Miguel smiled at his mom,
“She’s a girl, a strong, healthy girl”
“What are you naming her! Did you come up with names yet?”
Gabe shouted as he leaned over the table at the couple.
“Yeah we settled on Gabriella for her. It just fits her don’t you think”
M/n's hand lightened its messaging of Miguel’s covered cock, Miguel’s one hand gripping the hand in place wanting it to stay, to keep its teasing as it stroked the straining fabric against his now hardened cock.
“Sure does! Now I know how to embarrass her haha Gabriel and Gabriella! Genius M/n!”
“Actually man it was Miguel who chose the name. He seemed dead set on the name and who am I to tell him no”
M/n smirked, kissing Miguel on his cheek; Gabriel’s chest clenched seeing the happy couple. Seeing his older brother aka spiderman in a loving relationship while his own as being torn apart because of Spiderman!
Looking away Gabriel grabbed his drink, chugging the rest of the alcohol, getting an elbow in his ribs by his mom who corrected his manners.
“Don’t drink like that”
Resisting the urge to yell at his mom who now favored his more successful CEO brother. Instead Gabe apologizes for his hasty celebration. Congratulating the couple before standing up excusing himself for leaving early.
“Do you want us to pay for a taxi for you Gabe!-“
“No, I'm good! Congrats again miggy!”
Miguel sighed, placing his head into his hands rubbing his temple looking towards his mom, who was now standing up grabbing her jacket, rolling her eyes at Gabriel’s ‘childish behavior’ stating she had to get going. Saying she had an appointment with a friend.
As both of the couple watched as the two rushed out leaving M/n and Miguel alone at the table. M/n’s other hand guiding Miguel’s hurt expression to face him kissing his fiancé who’s family rushed out as fast as they came. M/n knew the family had a toxic streak but to just ditch a celebration of a new member of the family coming soon…m/n knew it cut Migue deep.
Leaning forward M/n pressed his lips against Miguel’s, being glad the couple chose a booth seat as not many people bothered to look at the couple.
The hand that messaged Miguel’s cock gripped his balls harder, fondling them the best they could with; making Miguel pant, trying to keep his face and noises down as they were still in a public space surrounded by intel’s other people.
“We’ll celebrate in our own way after all You're getting pretty horny now aren’t you hot stuff?”
Miguel’s other hand gripped around M/n's wrist for support as his hand began palming his cocks head through his jeans. It took all his will power to not throw his head back from the pleasure and teasing he never knew he missed getting from his other half; who’s lips brushed against the shell of his ear, his hot breath brushing against Miguel’s skin had his skin shiver with goosebumps all in anticipation…hinging on every word the man in front of him whispered.
“Wanna treat my baby’s daddy just right, gotta make him feel real appreciated”
Miguel let out a soft gasp moan as lips trailed down his jaw to his neck. Miguel couldn’t take much more, his cocks throbbing became painful, his legs were turning into jelly at the images runny through his dirty, horny mind.
Would his throat be fucked raw? On his back taking his lover's cock? Would he fuck him like an animal in heat, pull his hair, mark him. Miguel’s grip tightened around M/n's wrist while his free hands talons tore through the leather of the booths seats.
Feeling M/n smirk against his neck Miguel sighed leaning his head against m/n chest; embarrassed wasn’t the word he’d describe himself, there was nothing to be ashamed of when it came down to their lust for each other, PDA a sign for either of them to get home fast or there was no stopping them from indulging in their carnal desires for pleasure.
For many men Miguel’s size being the ‘bottom’ was embarrassing, to look too weak so fragile for any amount of touch to satisfy their needs. To Miguel it was pure bliss to let the walls down to let someone else take control to be in charge of his own pleasure. Someone like M/n who knew Miguel’s body inside and out, knew ways to make Miguel go limp at the near thought of getting fucked raw with carnal, primal lust and desire.
Feeling m/ns lips leave his neck Miguel clung to him jerking his hips slightly against the hot palm rubbing him through his pants. His focus was beginning to slip with each thrust of m/ns palm against the head of the aching cock. So much heat burning in his stomachs Miguel felt his control slipping even more as his fangs ached leaking bits of his own venom into his mouth mixing with his drool in ways that had his tongue buzzing with the bitter sweet taste.
“Por favor, te necesito tanto que duele el amor”
M/n's hand palming softened its unbearable teasing as he pulled Miguel’s head into his neck area as his voice shouted out to their waitress. Miguel’s large muscular body tenses at slight fear of being caught in the act had Miguel regain some sense through the cloud of heated lust.
“Excuse me, could you call up an auto taxi please? We both must have drank more than we thought.”
Miguel let out a strained moan at the sudden strong rubbing that started once more. His mind rendered into a fog of pleasure struggling to keep itself focused on the act of staying aware of the situation they were in. He could hardly even focus on what their waitress was saying.
“Oh of course sir I’ll go do that right away, was your automatic payment set up for when you leave?”
“Oh yeah it’s all set up, tell the cooks good job on the food yeah and here's a tip for the trouble.”
“Oh there’s no need but thank you so much sir, the taxi will be here soon!”
Miguel let out a groan of relief with the deparcher of the young waitress. Trying his best to play it off as him being ‘drunk’ that didn’t stop M/n from kissing down his jaw to his neck, nipping at the sensitive skin near Miguel’s ear; sucking the skin leaving hickeys from his jaw down his neck. The grip Miguel’s talons had on the leather seat tightened even farther, tearing more of it in their wake of pleasure.
“joder a la mierda por favor necesito sentir tus manos a mi alrededor, I can’t take it anymore-“
“Mr.l/n your taxi is here!”
Miguel’s face tensed his eyes clenched shut, his lips swollen from his teeth biting down to keep the moans from pouring from them. But m/ns hand didn’t light up even as his sweetened voice. But Miguel knew the slight straining behind it as M/n's hand tugged Miguel’s shirt from his pants helping Miguel hide his rage ig boner as the two stood up.
M/n gathered most of their stuff, wrapping his hand around Miguel’s waist as he ‘helped’ Miguel walk outside to their taxi that waited for them, it became harder to walk from the anticipation of whatever was in store for him once they both got into the hover car.
Tossing their coats into the hover car M/n held the door open for miguel who only had one foot into the car before hands rubbing up his covered spine before lips kissed behind his ear, Miguel groaned when a hand gripped his straining cock firmly before letting Miguel go to get into the taxi.
The autopilot chimed on,
-“Please enter in destination requirements”-
M/n closed the doors hatch, without hesitation M/n swung his leg over Miguel’s legs straddling, his knees m/n’s face blocking much of Miguel’s view as he racked his hands all over Miguel’s muscular body.
Both adults eyes filled with lust for the other, Miguel’s body could help but shake as hands that weren’t his own started running up his thighs landing just shy of the raging cock that throbbed underneath the slowly staining fabric. Miguel barely had time to hit enter on the holo pad before the hands unbuttoned the jeans and took the pre-dripping cock out from the straining fabric.
No matter how hard Miguel tried he couldn’t hold back the unrestrained pornographic moan that escaped. He’s never felt this much lust in his life, it was almost suffocating as the hand started it unbearably slow pumping from head to base. It was as if with each stroke of the hand left Miguel more breathless than before,
Throwing his head back to the back stead’s headrest M/n's free hand took a handful of Miguel’s dark locks making him stare into e/c eyes. Miguel groaned, staring at the man he was marrying, having a kid with, and fell so deeply in love with it nearly hurt to feel him all around him.
Leaning forward M/n smirked, his voice heated, hot, and horny all for Miguel to make the man under him feel appreciated, worshiped, and valued. And that was exactly M/n planned to do, make Miguel’s walls come fully down to fuck him in ways that would make them both so exhausted the next morning they’d just stay in bed and bask in the afterglow of sex but the new found strength both parents had now for their daughter.
“¿Qué quiere papá que haga? What can I do to make him feel appreciated?”
Miguel’s mind was slipping, slipping into the pools of light headed lust. Pleasure building painfully slow in his guts, the weightless feeling of the hover taxi waiving past other hover cars only added to the feelings of his mind slipping into giving all power to the man over him.
All Miguel felt was appreciation from the man in front of him, sighing as lips trailed down his lips to his neck, the warmth wet trail left from his fiancés tongue left in its wake had Miguel craving for more of m/n.
“Ah, ¡joder! No sé”
-“please refrain from contaminating the back seat; if you proceed to do so you will be charged extra for any cleaning services that will be required”-
The automated voice sounded over the taxis inner speakers of the back seat. It sent an electric shock through Mighuels body as he made an attempt to fix himself, only for a hand to push his back against the plush seats of the Taxi. Soft swollen lips pushing against his own, M/n’s voice lustful, soft and jokingly tone all slipping through his voice as he spoke against Miguel’s slightly parted lips.
“You do know; you’ve known for months what you’ve wanted me to do to that body of yours; you just have to tell me how you want it daddy, this is all for you to feel appreciated”
M/n pulled Miguel by his shirt, closing the space between their lips in a heated kiss. Miguel moaned, letting his mind give in; opening the floodgates as Miguel’s hands ran their way up M/n hips grinding his hips up with each jerking motion the hand around his cock pumped. Pre leaking down the thick Vick onto the hand, lubing it up even more to pump faster.
The air around the lovers heated up, the smell of sex and sweat mixed together with their colones that only became stronger the more they sweated. Miguel’s mouth limply hang open his forehead resting against M/n’s chest watching his cock vanish and reappear as the hand twisted at the head making it leak even more pre, drool dripping from his mouth as he watched his cock get pumped with the hand; spit joint the pre in lubricating m/ns hand in jerking Miguel more efficiently.
“Remember Miggy we can’t make a mess”
Hooking a finger under Miguel’s chin M/n lifted his face to look at the existence of the state Miguel was in. What he saw had his own cock throb painfully at Miguel’s flushed face, his unfocused eyes, the drooling mouth that revealed his fangs that seemed like they were even losing control over their venom leaking out, Miguel’s messing hair clinging to his forehead. M/n smirked down at his blissed out minded fiancé who’s arms clung loosely on his hips.
“ w-want you inside, hmm ah”
Miguel moaned his head leaning against M/ns hand, his body was in a state of plearsureable numbness. The only thoughts going through his mind was the thought of M/n cock filling him up with is seed. In a primal part of his mindset miguel craved to be filled to the brim with M/ns kids.
“Want your cum…in me filling me”
“Oh? And why does daddy want my cum?hmm”
Twisting his hand harshly at the reddening tip of Miguel’s cock; m/n moaned watching Miguel’s body shake involuntarily with Miguel’s whines from the amount of pleasure.
Miguel couldn’t take anymore his cock,his stomachs, even his ass ached for his fiancés cock to fuck him raw and full with cum.
“I want more kids, want you t-o fill me with them ahh, carajo!”
Miguel stammered his request filled M/n with such primal desire to do just as his future husband asked. Fill him full of his cum, his kids, to get him pregnant; to give their baby girl Gabriella siblings right away.
It was a part of Miguel’s brain that had these instincts programmed into him from the desisted, it made Miguel feel nothing more than a needy animal but in a way it was part of Miguel that he couldn’t hate…not when it made sex feel so fucking good.
Yet Miguel wasn’t prepared for his pants to be yanked as far down as M/n could manage before he got sexually frustrated enough to the point he removed his hand from Miguel’s burning cock to O’Neal down in between Miguel’s legs yanking his stained jeans the rest of the way off.
Licking his lips as he stared at Miguel’s pre-covered cock to his twitching hole. Shoving his own fingers into his mouth not knowing just how deputed Miguel’s venom was;
“Don’t give me those sexy eyes, I’m not gonna risk getting paralyzed by that venom of yours again.”
Throwing his head back in frustration Miguel knew M/n was valid in his concerns last time they were lost in this kind of lust he was paralyzed for a good part of the day stuck with a raging boner.
Opening his eyes Miguel looked down at M/n who was sucking on his own fingers coating them in his spit, while his other hand grabbed ahold of Miguel’s thigh guilding it over his shoulder showing off the puckering ring of muscle that craved for him.
Feeling his face heating up to a point Miguel could only moan as fingers began their teasing taunts with each small push, a slight probe. Whines escaped Miguel’s lips as one of his hands gripped his own hair the other made its way to his beading pre cock. Only for the hand to get slapped away.
Shocked, Miguel looked down to M/n whose face was in between the two mounds of ass, his tongue pushing past the ring of muscle, loosening the inside enough for a finger to shove it’s way all the way to his knuckle.
“Amor a la mierda por favor déjame eyacular”
Miguel’s struggling voice whines his free hand reaching down to M/n hair gripping his fingers into the soft messy h/c. Pulling m/ns head closer with each brush made on his prostate. The burning pleasurable sort of pain each time a finger was added along with the tongue that still eases the ring of muscle open.
Stretching Miguel’s ass farther, the heights of Miguel’s nearly climax was at its peak, the knot that formed altightened, heightening his senses even higher than before as blood rushed to his ears the corners of his eyes started to go white with pleasure.
All stopped once the autopilot spoke once more the voice alerting them of their nearly destination in a few moments. Causing the head between Miguel’s shaking thighs to retreat, along with the tongue that Miguel had gotten so used to the warmth of inside him.
Letting out a desperate breath Miguel looked down at M/n. Whose face was just as flushed as Miguel’s as he stared back, his fingered scissoring Miguel’s still tight hole open; preparing him just the way he wanted.
All while he stroked a hand against Miguel’s neglected cock that leaked far more the more teasing M/n did.
“Look at yourself you sexy beast, being scissored and stretched with one hand while being given the best handjob with the other and still you want me. Shock I love it when you let me take care of you baby, so sexy”
Miguel’s hands clasped M/n head weakly hinting at his desperate want for their lips to mean once more. Chuckling M/n continued his assault of his fiancés ass and cock. Their lips barely brushed against the other when the hover taxi sounded;
-“destination reached! Scanning; cleaning required your holo card will be charades as such for a cleaning crew, enjoy your day”-
M/n smirked down to Miguel’s exposed body, exposed to him and him only; Miguel’s muscles that were flexed made the shirt he worse tight and cling to parts of his body that had M/n drooling himself while racking his eyes down the masterpiece of the body before him.
Miguel’s cocked twitching with the lack of attention went for his ass as it tried to pull his fingers deeper. Latching onto Miguel’s soft spot on his neck resulting in slightly taloned hands to grip his shoulder breaking the skin slightly: the pain was worth more of those sweet, addictive moans being pulled from those plump lips.
“Shock Miguel keep doing that and I might let you fuck me instead”
Miguel’s groan tugging on M/n’s suit wanting him to be in the same amount of undress he was right now. Miguel wanted him inside, fucking him raw and primal to worship his body like he knew M/n would.
“cariño, please get me into the house and you can do whatever you want with me!”
His head rolled back as M/ns fingers retreated out from his ass, with a wet sound as they pulled fully out leave his hole twitching for something to clench, to suck deep within itself.An invention M/n would soon take
“When you put it like that how can I say no”
Miguel let out a shaking breath as hands brushed up his chest all the way down to the jeans that were still down at his ankles.
“Shock I can’t stop looking at you; fucking beautiful”
Lips ghosted down Miguel’s thighs, the trail of kisses were near unbearably sweet; it had him breathless all while M/n pulled his Jeans up, his boxers covering most of Miguel’s hyper sensitive cock.
The fabric now covering him up had Miguel panting as he resisted the urge to pull the clothes off his hyper sensitive cock. The fabric brushing against his slightly exposed head had Miguel squeezing his legs together as much as he could as the two made their way into their house.
A house that already held so many memories and would hold more. A clean organized house, with modern furniture decorating the interior of the modern home. The only messy part could be spotted in the kitchen which was getting cleaned already by LYLAs drones.
Miguel’s scenes were in overdrive; the smells of both men perforated the air of the house with their colognes, and now the smell of sweat, and sex that clung to the two. The smells are becoming stronger in their bedroom. A room that houses all the smells that had Miguel's instincts go wide.
It all had Miguel’s head spinning as he turned to M/n who smirked as he threw their suits onto the floor seeing the darkening lust that poured into Miguel’s eyes just before he pulled his other half on top of him.
M/n gasped as their bodies hit the plush bed; Miguel’s face was redder than m/n had ever seen it, his hair was messy sprawling over his face and bed. His fangs catching the dimmed lights as miguel spoke his voice thick with a need to be fucked, to be filled with cum.
“Love you; want more of you”
“Yeah?”
“¡Sí, por el amor de la mierda, por favor, que me jodan!”
M/n practically ripped Miguel's clothes off leaving the far more stronger man naked and bare underneath his body. Miguel’s broad figure relaxed moaning with each light touch M/n left on his skin. Any amount of lips that licked up the sweat that ran down Miguel’s anticipating body.
M/n loved seeing Miguel so lost in the ecstasy of it all. Watching him shiver,buckle, beg underneath him seeing him finally let go of all the stress and pressure that the last few months placed on him. Now he gave in, allowing himself to feel everything all at once.
M/n took his time stripping his own close off his body, giving the desperate Miguel underneath him something to enjoy with each curse word that poured from Miguel’s lips with each piece of clothing thrown elsewhere in the room.
Miguel, sexually frustrated made a move to pull M/n down to him but it only resulted in him being flipped into his stomach. Gasping as hands gripped his hips, pulling them flushed with a straining pair of pants that covered a raging cock under eight rubbing ever so slightly against Miguel’s prepped plum ass.
“Such an impatient daddy; maybe I should punish you-“
“No!”
“I guess you're right, this day is all about you, about making you feel really loved. Is that what you want for me to shove my cock inside this needy hole?”
Miguel’s talons released from his fingers gripping the thick blanket underneath the two, the unstable fibers of the blanket resisted the tearing from Miguel’s claws. Miguel looked over his broad shoulders seeing M/n tossing his pants off the bed along with his boxers leaving them both fully naked, a fact that had Miguel pushing his ass back against the cock that now rubbed its pre leaking head between the two mounds.
Miguel arched his back as the head teased his waiting, ache hole. The heat radiating from m/n legs and cock that pressed flushed with Miguel’s body had him moaning tears of joy ran down his face with the burning pleasure rippled through his ass up to his head.
As m/n started to slowly push the head of his cock inside Miguel. Hearing M/n’s low moans against his lower back, groaning about Miguel’s tightness that clenched around the head.
“Shock, miggy your ass is pulling me in so well”
Miguel moaned loudly at the praise, taking pure bliss of feeling so fucking full of M/n’s cock. Each each raised Miguel’s moans higher and higher, the addictive burn of his ass adjusting around the cock that fox in oh so perfectly had Miguel’s rolling his hips. M/n's hands grip on Miguel’s hips tightening as he holds back to give Miguel some time to breath only for Migue to buck his ass back slamming the rest of the cock into him.
“Fuck miguel! Ah”
“sí se siente tan lleno querido, más quiero todo lo que tienes"
Miguel managed to get his arms under him, his talons gripping tighter on their blankets; the glow from the fibers resisting the tears had the dim room glowing faintly as the illuminated the two pleasure lost men.
Miguel threw his head back moaning loudly as M:n hips gave in fully to Miguel’s demands. An iron grip on Miguel’s hips would bruise the next morning from the intensity of m/ns thrusts had Miguel voice breaking mid moans. In no time m/ns cock found Miguel’s prostate ramming into the bundle of nerves repeatedly.
Electrifying pleasure after pleasure had Miguel screaming as his vision began to turn nearly white as the pleasure blinded him. His knees began to lock up the feeling of the nearly inhuman speed his fiancés thrusted into his tight ass had Miguel railing for more.
Thrusting his own hips back against m/ns the sound of skin slapping against skin echoed in their room the smell of sex and sweat became nearly as intoxicating as the pleasure. The nails in his hips trailed separating one wrapping itself around Miguel’s dripping reddening cock pumping the cock in time with his thrusts stimulating Miguel’s nerves even more. Miguel’s mouth hangs open saliva escaping his mouth that is now mixed with his venom making for a sweet but bitter taste to be a constant in his mouth.
Before Miguel had time to realize the other hand trailing threw his hair it was already to last as M/n pulled Miguel’s head back, both arms wrapped around Miguel’s body pulling the pleasure lost man to his own chest allowing lips and tongue to trail down Miguel’s neck leaving hickeys and bite marks in their wake.
Miguel’s moans turned into whimpers as the increased intensity of m/n thrusts became harder and faster the knot in Miguel’s stomachs was reaching its breaking point; Miguel’s cock was leaking an amount M/n's hand was covered in the pre.
“Ah, look down Miggy, fuck my cock is filling you good hun”
Miguel did as he was told with slight resistance from the still tight grip M/n's hands had in his hair. What he saw had Miguel nearly lose his instinct riddled mind as a bus able bulge could be seen with each harsh unforgiving thrusts.
“Go on, fill it, fill just how much I’m filling you baby; rub that cock filled stomach of yours for me.”
Miguel threw his head back as another dead-on hit to his prostate was made, his head resting against M/n shoulder. His hands trailed up to his stomachs moaning at each thrust had the bulge protruding from Miguel’s stomachs to rub against his hands.
M/n was right he was filling Miguel so good, so much filled him Miguel never wanted this to end the feeling the cocks head gave him with each thrust had Miguel’s brain want to believe it wasn’t a cock but his and M/n’s child growing inside of him. A baby bump; that a child was growing inside of Miguel.
“Shock M/n more ¡Lléname, cum dentro de mí por favor! quieres darle a Gabriella un hermano quiere a tus hijos, amor”
“Ah fuck keep t-talking like that and I’ll loose it hun”
“So close to, ah shock, shock please so close! W-anna feel you cum inside me!”
The knot that’s been building in both of the two lovers grew to its breaking point. The pain melded with the pleasure of the pressure build up had Miguel gripping M/n's ass keeping him in place the best he could while his screams of pleasure filled the room ; ropes of cum splattering all over the bed sheets and m/ns still pumping hands.
Wet skin slapping movements filled the air of the couples room; as a tear stained Miguel gasped for any amount of air he could get as his body shook only for a moan to rip be ripped out of him as his hand felt M/ns hips sputtering in a final harder thrust up into Miguel’s tightening hole; the bully Miguel felt twitching harshly against his prostate as his inside were flooded with m/ns hot seed. Made Miguel buckle his own hips into the air as yet another unexpected second orgasam hit him.
Grabbing hold of M/n's hair Miguel sighed, feeling his lover's lips soothing him. Soft lips trailing up Miguel’s neck to his jaw. His hand turning Miguel’s fucked out expression towards him peppering kisses all over Miguel’s face that scrunched up in discomfort as 5the now softened cock slipped from his cum dripping hole.
Leaving Miguel whining yet moaning at the soft attention he was receiving from M/n whose other hand rubbed what was left of Miguel’s cum on the now dirty blanket. Before stroking Miguel’s aching thighs and hips.
“I didn’t hurt you did I?”
Miguel laughed, opening his eyes to stare at his worried fiancé who’s shoulder bore more damage compared to Miguel’s soon to be bruising hips.
“You're asking me? Last I checked I’m not bleeding anywhere”
“Yeah yeah smart ass, fuck I love you so much“
Interweaving his fingers through the h/c hair Miguel breathed in m/ns scent now mostly smelling of Miguel and sex Miguel relaxed basking in their afterglow.
“Yo también te amo, m/n”
Feeling m/n face pressed into Miguel’s neck Miguel relaxed as he continued to play with his lover's hair; feeling him speak against his neck a statement that had Miguel’s chest ache with just how much he loved his man holding him.
“And I love our daughter; I’ll protect both of you the best way I can I swear, I’ll keep you both safe no matter what”
“Now you’re stealing my lines”
A chuckle tickled Miguel’s sensitive neck as they both chuckled while caressing each other's bodies, messaging out the aching muscles.
“Sure am, we deserve a normal life don't you think, a nice long vacation”
“And just how long is this vacation lasting?-“
“The rest our lives; raising our beautiful baby”
The couple intertwined their hands M/n looking down at Miguel’s ring around his finger, the joy and light feeling of finally finding the family he’s spent all his life searching for was here. Had always been here in his arms for years and now another part of their family is one her way as well.
Pulling Miguel’s hand to his lips both Miguel and M/n kissed their ringed fingers, nudging ‘em their head together as they basked in the love they held for each other and their daughter.
Nothing would change that…ever.
Part 6 final
( damn this turned out very long and angsty and soft all at the same time! Hope y’all like it!)
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artfertilityclinicsposts · 1 year ago
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Pain-Free Dreams: Debunking Myths About IVF with Art Fertility Clinic
Introduction
Embarking on the journey to parenthood through in vitro fertilization (IVF) can be both exciting and nerve-wracking. Among the concerns that often arise is the fear of pain associated with the IVF procedure. However, we're here to set the record straight and ease your worries. At Art Fertility Clinic, we're committed to making your IVF experience as comfortable as possible, and we're ready to debunk the myths surrounding the pain associated with IVF treatment.
Myth 1: Is IVF Painful?
The misconception that IVF is a painful procedure is a common one. The truth is that advancements in medical technology and techniques have significantly minimized discomfort during IVF. At Art Fertility Clinic, we prioritize your well-being. Our experienced and compassionate team ensures that your comfort is paramount throughout the entire process. From egg retrieval to embryo transfer, we employ the latest methods to minimize any discomfort you might experience.
Myth 2: Is the IVF Procedure Painful?
The IVF procedure consists of several steps, each designed to give you the best chance of success. While any medical procedure might raise concerns about pain, the reality is that IVF procedures are typically well-tolerated by patients. During egg retrieval, for instance, you'll be under anesthesia, ensuring a pain-free experience. Our team at Art Fertility Clinic is dedicated to explaining every step of the procedure, addressing your concerns, and tailoring the experience to your comfort level.
Myth 3: Is IVF Treatment Painful?
IVF treatment involves various stages, including hormone injections and monitoring. The idea of injections might cause anxiety, but rest assured, our skilled professionals at Art Fertility Clinic are adept at making this process as painless as possible. We understand that a supportive environment is essential, and we strive to provide you with all the information and resources you need to navigate the treatment journey smoothly.
Why Choose Art Fertility Clinic?
Expertise: Our team comprises experienced fertility specialists who are well-versed in the latest IVF techniques. With our expertise, you can trust that your experience will be as pain-free as possible.
Individualized Care: We understand that every patient is unique. At Art Fertility Clinic, we tailor our approach to your specific needs, ensuring a personalized and comfortable journey.
State-of-the-Art Facilities: Our clinic is equipped with state-of-the-art facilities, enabling us to provide you with the highest standard of care in a soothing environment.
Supportive Staff: We're not just a clinic; we're your partners on the path to parenthood. Our compassionate staff is here to address your concerns, answer your questions, and provide unwavering support.
Conclusion
Embarking on the IVF journey with Art Fertility Clinic means stepping into a realm of possibilities where pain is minimized, and your dreams of parenthood take center stage. Don't let myths about IVF pain deter you from pursuing your dreams. With our dedicated team by your side, you can experience a smoother and more comfortable IVF journey than you might have imagined. Contact us at Art Fertility Clinic to learn more about how we're turning pain-free dreams into reality. Your path to parenthood begins here.
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oddlittlestories · 1 year ago
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Okay but actually if House and Wilson are having sex the whole time… it’s bleak.
- you fall in love with a man after his divorce. maybe he loves you too?
- he gets married to a woman. he doesn’t even like her. she knows about you two.
- you meet someone. she seems great, until she overrides your consent to save your life. it saves your life. it destroys your life. it ruins your ability to trust.
- you basically give up on looking for someone else. you can’t really be with your boy best friend, but at least he’s protective in a way you trust.
- wife # 2 comes and goes. wife #3 comes and goes. she’s never more important than you. except for being the wife.
- you think he’s stopped trying to find a long-term partner other than you. it only hurts a little when he finds stupid short-term flings.
- you offer to be a sperm donor for a friend / former flame trying IVF. she excitedly involves you in the process even if she doesn’t want your sperm. maybe this is how you get a family.
- she stops.
- your boy best friend starts seeing someone new. he actually likes her this time—because she actively reminds him of you. you can’t decide whether this is better or worse.
- you decide it’s better. you come to a “strange detente” with her. he’s happy. you’re mostly happy but you sabotage them a bit. lightheartedly. mostly.
- she gets in an accident because of you. your boy best friend is trying to protect you until you all realize it’s her.
- he asks you to risk your life to save her. you’ve always needed to go to extremes, in a desperate situation like this. he knows that. but he may also value her life over yours.
- you do it. it fails. he leaves.
- at least your old flame is there and you’re not completely alone.
- you’re bad at being vulnerable, but you ask him to stay. he leaves.
- you figure out that he is just scared. you make up.
- your old flame adopts a child, but you are not involved in any way.
- you begin to hallucinate. you fear this will result in losing your boy best friend. when you check into Mayfield, you believe that it has.
- but when you move out, you move in with him. you don’t really care if he has sex with the neighbor. you’ve been having sex with other people the whole time, and honestly the competition is kind of hot.
- you settle in. no more dating. he furnishes your apartment, and the one thing he picks? a way of saying he wants you.
- you don’t have a conversation about the relationship, but you’re pretty sure you’re essentially married now. you two have always felt that actions speak louder than words anyways.
- then he dates his ex-wife who used the hell out of him. you spiral, hostile and angry.
- he’s never going to see you and him as a real relationship. you’re never going to be good enough in that way. never never never
- your old flame is falling in love with someone else. you get jealous.
- she decides her feelings for you are greater. it’s your one last shot at a partnership. you can’t screw it up
- but deep down you know
- you know you’ll never be good enough
- she just hasn’t figured it out yet
- she figures it out
- you spiral, but this time it’s a free fall
- by this point, you know the dirty little secret of your life. your boy best friend will never be with you, but he’ll never leave you either. you tell him to do whatever he needs to do to get over it. he does.
- he has cancer. treatment doesn’t work.
- you’ve lived in pain, physical and emotional, for decades. he won’t live in pain for two years for you.
- you believe a miserable life is better than a miserable death. he believes a merciful death is better. you have never been able to reconcile this one fundamental difference between you.
- you never will
- the repetition becomes trite: you spiral
- it’s going to cost you everything. you should just give up.
- you find another way out. you fake your death to share his last five months with him.
- you run away together
- everyone will say you were selfish. an ass. they will say you never thought of anyone but yourself. they will say your boy best friend sacrificed and sacrificed. they will never see what you gave to him.
- story of your life
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imagine-darksiders · 7 months ago
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Correct me if I'm wrong, but didn't your parents adopt? And they have the audacity to expect you to get pregnant because they want grandkids? Just tell them to go adopt some more if they want babies instead of shitting on you for not doing what they couldn't or didn't want to do themselves. Parental "do as I say, not as I do" is the worst kind of hypocrisy.
I know where you’re coming from and I definitely agree to an extent, but the tragedy for my parents is that they couldn’t have children, and were so desperate that they went through the awful trauma of IVF, experimental drugs and painful fertility treatment before finally settling on adoption to get me and my brother. To them, I think it’s like, they’d have done anything to have a child, so it’s hard to accept why someone else wouldn’t want what they fought so hard for.
Sometimes it feels like I’m sitting on a gift that they’d have given anything to be able to use, but all I’m doing is ignoring it. It’s a tricky concept to accept, but I have a feeling it hurts them deeply that I don’t want kids, and while I’d move the Earth and sky to make my parents happy, I just can’t bring myself to give them the thing they really want.
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eclipsewilliam · 3 months ago
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Endometriosis is a chronic condition where tissue similar to the lining of the uterus grows outside of it, causing symptoms like pelvic pain, heavy menstrual bleeding, pain during sex, and infertility. Treatment for endometriosis depends on the severity of the symptoms, your overall health, and whether you want to have children in the future. Here are the main approaches that can help manage endometriosis:
1. Pain Management
• NSAIDs (Non-Steroidal Anti-Inflammatory Drugs): Over-the-counter pain relievers like ibuprofen or naproxen can help reduce pain and inflammation associated with endometriosis.
• Prescription Pain Medications: For more severe pain, doctors might prescribe stronger painkillers or opioids for short-term use.
• Heat Therapy: Applying a heating pad or warm compress to the abdomen can help relieve pain and muscle spasms.
• TENS Therapy: A transcutaneous electrical nerve stimulation (TENS) unit, which delivers electrical impulses to the skin, can sometimes help with pain relief.
2. Hormonal Treatments
Hormonal therapies are often used to reduce or eliminate menstruation, as periods can worsen endometriosis symptoms.
• Birth Control Pills: Combined oral contraceptives (the pill) can help regulate periods and reduce pain by suppressing ovulation.
• Progestin-only Treatments: Progestin injections, implants, or intrauterine devices (IUDs) can help control the growth of endometrial tissue.
• GnRH Agonists: These drugs, such as Lupron or Zoladex, work by shutting down ovarian hormone production and inducing a temporary menopausal state, which can help shrink endometrial tissue and reduce pain. However, they often have significant side effects, including hot flashes and bone thinning.
• Danazol: This synthetic male hormone can reduce estrogen levels and shrink endometrial tissue, but it has side effects like acne and weight gain.
• Aromatase Inhibitors: These medications decrease estrogen production and can be used in combination with other treatments.
3. Surgical Treatment
Surgery can be considered for women with severe symptoms or if other treatments haven’t worked.
• Laparoscopy: This minimally invasive procedure allows the surgeon to remove or destroy endometrial tissue. It’s commonly used to treat endometriosis when other treatments aren’t effective.
• Hysterectomy: In cases where endometriosis is severe and other treatments have not worked, a hysterectomy (removal of the uterus) may be considered, sometimes with removal of ovaries. However, this is typically only recommended for women who no longer wish to have children.
• Excision or Ablation: Surgeons may remove endometriotic lesions or use laser or heat to destroy the tissue.
4. Lifestyle and Complementary Therapies
• Diet: Some studies suggest that a diet rich in anti-inflammatory foods (such as omega-3 fatty acids from fish or flaxseeds, and antioxidants from fruits and vegetables) may help alleviate some symptoms. Reducing intake of red meat, trans fats, and processed foods may also be beneficial.
• Exercise: Regular physical activity can improve overall well-being, reduce inflammation, and potentially help manage pain.
• Acupuncture: Some women report pain relief and improved symptoms with acupuncture, although more research is needed to fully support its effectiveness.
• Stress Reduction: Practices like yoga, mindfulness, or meditation can help manage stress and may contribute to pain relief.
• Supplements: Some people find that omega-3 fatty acids, vitamin D, curcumin (from turmeric), and magnesium help reduce pain and inflammation, though it’s important to talk to a healthcare provider before starting any supplements.
5. Fertility Treatments
If endometriosis is affecting fertility, treatments such as in vitro fertilization (IVF) may be recommended. Fertility-preserving options like egg freezing may also be considered for women who want to preserve their fertility before pursuing aggressive treatments.
6. Alternative Therapies
• Herbal Remedies: Some women explore herbal treatments like chamomile, ginger, or vitex (chaste tree), which are believed to help with menstrual regulation and pain. However, their efficacy is not well-established, and some herbs can interact with other medications.
• CBD Oil: Some women report relief from pain with CBD oil, though more research is needed.
7. Support and Counseling
• Support Groups: Connecting with others who have endometriosis can provide emotional support and practical advice on managing symptoms.
• Counseling or Therapy: Chronic pain conditions like endometriosis can lead to mental health struggles, such as anxiety or depression. Therapy or counseling can help you cope with the emotional impact of the condition.
Managing Endometriosis in Daily Life
• Track Your Symptoms: Keeping a symptom diary can help you and your doctor understand your condition better and tailor treatments accordingly.
• Work-Life Balance: It can be challenging to manage work, school, or social activities when you’re in pain. Finding accommodations at work or school and giving yourself permission to rest is essential for managing the condition.
• Educate Yourself: Knowledge is empowering. Understanding your condition and the available treatment options can help you make informed decisions about your health.
Consultation with a Healthcare Provider
Since endometriosis varies widely in its severity and impact on different individuals, it’s important to work closely with a healthcare provider to find the most appropriate treatment for your specific case. In some instances, a specialist in gynecology or reproductive health may be necessary for optimal care.
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khuchospital1 · 2 years ago
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Maternity services in delhi
Maternity Services in Delhi
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To Wrap Up When it comes to birthing a new life, you deserve the best possible care. Delhi's maternity services offer exactly that - unmatched expertise, years of experience, and a trustworthy companion on an unforgettable journey. Experience, expertise, authority, and trust. That’s what maternity services in Delhi stand for. Are you ready for a safe and satisfying birthing experience in the capital city?
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edgessunflower · 1 year ago
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Arms wide open
For @littlemiss-fanficlover
Pairing: Rhea Ripley x Fem reader
Description: Rhea finds out you're pregnant and the two of you are excited to become parents
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Tears flow down your face as you listen to the results of your blood test from the hospital after having IVF treatment the doctors even letting Rhea inseminate you leaving you both nervous and giddy. You smile prepping the small box with baby things from the positive pregnancy test, the blood test result paper, and a white fluffy blanket your mom made when she was pregnant with you to the sonogram you had done two days after your blood test results, a Winnie the pooh and piglet plush, and a small polaroid of your belly with a heart painted in the middle that you took later that same day after finding out you were pregnant with the caption below "Mama and mommy love you!" making you emotional as you look at the box before doing things around the house squealing when rhea texts you that she was on the way home making you over the moon with joy as you wait for her jumping in her arms "There's my girl! God I missed you" sharing a sweet kiss before putting the box in front of her tapping your fingers as she looks at everything in the box holding the sonogram and polaroid before bursting into tears and holding you kissing your belly before raising your shirt "Hi little one! We love you so much already no matter what! You are the best thing in the world to ever happen to us" immediately face timing all the boys who loved you like a sister and were family to you just like they were for each other. You laugh joyfully after rhea props her phone up and the boys answer back to back "What's going on girls?" you walk in the frame closely with rhea behind you holding the sonogram in front of your belly laughing more at the reactions, Finn's eyes are wide and mouth open, Damian is yelling in joy about being an uncle and a shared godfather, Dom is teary eyed absolutely happy for his two dear friends and sisters "A little one is coming into the Judgement day!" laughs and smiles are shared amongst the five of you before both of you called your parents who all were thrilled of being grandparents and both your baby sisters were over the moon about being aunts and everyone was by the two of you for every moment from watching your bump grow, the first kick, gender reveal, helping you with pain, seeing ultrasound videos, watching you play music with headphones on your belly, the birth, and seeing your daughter who already had everyone around her in love and wrapped around their hearts many pictures and videos taken of your daughter being held melting seeing the boys and rhea with the little girl always bringing her with you to watch them wrestle all of them smiling and turning into teddy bears when they see you and the smiling little girl in your arms who always squeals and laughs yelling mommy and tios in joy.
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