practice makes parenthood.
han jisung x f!reader
synopsis: you’re six months pregnant when an impulse purchase lands you and jisung in a week-long trial of parenthood with a baby doll that cries, eats, and won’t stop unless you care for it. you forgot to mention it was only for a week & he’s exhausted.
warnings: fluff, pregnancy, slice of life, emotional themes anxiety around new parenthood, vulnerability, and relationship pressure.
wc: 5,081
You were six months pregnant when it happened, the day your impulsive decision caught up to you in the form of a screaming box and a very confused husband.
It had started innocently enough. One morning, while sitting cross-legged on the couch with a blanket draped over your legs and your hand resting on the growing curve of your belly, you’d fallen into a spiral of parenting videos on your phone. Jisung was away on a four-day business trip, and even though he’d FaceTimed you three times a day like clockwork, once during breakfast, again after lunch, and always before bed, the house felt oddly still without him in it. You missed his gentle hums as he brushed his teeth, the way his socks always somehow ended up half-tucked behind the couch, and most of all, the warm weight of his palm on your stomach as he whispered to the baby each night.
You’d been feeling... off. Not physically, your OB said everything was going perfectly, but mentally. You were excited, thrilled, more in love with the baby growing inside you than you ever imagined you could be. But there was also a shadow of doubt that hovered behind the joy: What if I’m not ready?
You had never even changed a diaper before. You’d only held a baby once in your life, and that was when you were eight years old and your cousin had handed you her newborn for all of twelve seconds before the poor thing started wailing. You remembered freezing up, terrified of breaking it, and handing it back like it was made of glass.
So, when you came across a video titled “This Doll Made Me a Better Mom — Practicing Before Baby Arrived!”, you were intrigued. The woman in the video had bought a lifelike simulation doll that cried when it was hungry, needed a diaper change, or wanted comfort. She showed clips of her responding to the cries in the middle of the night, feeding the doll with its little bottle, cuddling it back to silence. She looked tired. But she also looked prepared.
That was all it took.
One click. One checkout. You ordered the doll.
Then... you forgot. Completely.
Between nesting, your prenatal yoga classes, rearranging the nursery for the fifth time, and trying not to fall asleep in the middle of the day, the memory of the purchase was pushed into some dusty corner of your brain. So when Jisung finally came home that Thursday evening, suitcase in one hand and your favorite cinnamon buns in the other, you didn’t think anything of it when he called from the hallway.
“Babe? There’s a package out here. It’s big. Did you order something?”
You blinked, half-asleep on the couch, a heating pad on your lower back and your favorite fuzzy socks on. “I don’t... think so?”
“Hmm.” Jisung appeared in the doorway, his work shirt slightly wrinkled, his hair tousled from the long flight, and a teasing smile tugging at his lips. “I hope it’s another ridiculously expensive gift from your parents. Maybe a gold crib this time.”
You laughed, tossing a throw pillow at him as he set the box down. “Shut up. That crib was one time. And it wasn’t gold, it was birch.”
“Birch, right. Very regal.” He leaned down to kiss you, one hand cradling your jaw and the other sliding over your belly. “God, I missed you both.”
Your heart swelled instantly. This man, who made everything better just by being in the room. “We missed you more,” you murmured, letting your hand cover his as he pressed his palm to the gentle curve of your bump.
He gave your stomach a soft rub. “Hi, little bean. Missed you.”
“What is this thing?”
He pulled out a box cutter from the drawer and began slicing the tape.
“I really don’t remember ordering anything,” you said, scooting upright with a groan, wincing a little as your back cracked. “Are you sure it’s for me?”
“Well, it’s not addressed to me, unless my legal name is now ‘Mama To Be.’”
You blinked, suddenly uneasy.
And then he opened the flaps.
Inside the cardboard was a white-and-pink box, carefully packed, decorated with baby icons and a smiling cartoon of a doll with rosy cheeks. The brand name “MyRealBaby” was scrawled across the front in pastel letters.
Jisung paused. “Okay. Did your parents... send us a robot baby?”
You stared at the packaging. And then it hit you. The late-night purchase. The YouTube video. The compulsion. “Oh my God,” you whispered.
“What?”
“I bought this.” You looked at him in horror. “I bought this!”
“You what?”
“I saw a video.. this woman said it helped her get used to caring for a baby before she gave birth and I— I don’t know, I panicked and clicked buy now! I completely forgot!”
He raised an eyebrow. “You panic-bought a robot child.”
“I panic-bought preparedness!” you snapped, throwing your hands up. “I just thought it might help.”
Before Jisung could respond, a sharp, piercing wail burst from the box.
You both froze.
Then another cry louder this time, shrill and high-pitched and absolutely unnatural. Like a fire alarm had been programmed with a newborn’s lungs.
“WHAT IS THAT?” Jisung shouted, stumbling backward as if the box had exploded.
“It’s— It’s the doll— Oh my God, I think it activated—!”
Jisung was already crouched over the open box, frantically trying to figure out where the “off” switch was. “Where’s the button? Where’s the button?!”
“There is no button! That’s the whole point!” you shouted back over the wailing. “You have to treat it like a real baby! It only stops crying if you feed it or change its diaper or hold it!”
He paused, deadpan. “You bought a possessed toy that screams at us unless we care for it like a real baby?!”
“I didn’t think it would start crying right out of the box!” you cried, grabbing the doll as gently as you could and cradling it in your arms, trying to rock it back and forth. “Shh! Shhh, please stop!”
It did not stop.
Jisung hovered beside you, looking more stressed than he did when you’d accidentally deleted his entire project report last month. “What does it want? Is it hungry? Does it need... a diaper? Does it know we’re imposters?!”
You were shaking your head rapidly, trying to recall the video. “I think it’s hungry— It should have come with a bottle— Check the box, check the box!”
He ripped through the remaining packaging like a man trying to disarm a bomb. “Found it! Bottle, diaper, instruction manual— why is the manual seventy pages long?!”
“Just give me the bottle!”
He handed it over, and you fumbled to plug it into the doll’s mouth.
Instant silence.
You and Jisung both stopped breathing, staring at the eerily lifelike plastic baby in your arms, now peacefully “suckling.”
You could hear the sound of the bottle’s internal mechanism clicking softly, like a timer. The room felt suddenly too quiet.
Jisung slowly sank to the floor in front of you, wide-eyed. “So... we just became parents. To a trial baby.”
You nodded solemnly. “A very loud, very realistic trial baby.”
He looked at your belly, then at the doll, then back to your belly. “You do realize we’re going to have a real one of these in, like, three months.”
“I know.”
“And it’s going to cry like that.”
“I know.”
“And we can’t turn that one off either.”
“Jisung,” you whispered, eyes wide, “what if we’re not ready?”
He blinked at you. And then, slowly, he reached out and gently lifted the doll from your arms. He cradled it with exaggerated care, the way he'd practiced with the teddy bear in your birthing class, and rocked it slightly as the bottle finished its fake feeding cycle and the doll’s head lolled peacefully against his chest.
Then he looked at you, really looked at you, eyes soft, smile lopsided. “We’re going to be fine.”
You exhaled, relief bubbling up through your chest. “You really think so?”
“Yeah.” He leaned forward, kissed your forehead. “Because even when you panic-buy something insane, you’re doing it because you care. And that means you’re already an amazing mom.”
You melted right there on the living room rug.
And then, as if summoned by the universe to humble you both, the doll let out another piercing cry.
Jisung yelped. “WHAT DOES IT WANT NOW?!”
“Try the diaper!”
He groaned. “I just got home.”
“And you just became a dad. Welcome to the job.”
-
The bottle had barely finished its soft mechanical whirring when the two of you were already mentally preparing for battle.
You’d tucked the instruction booklet under your arm like a field manual and carried the now-silent doll to your bedroom, pausing only to look at Jisung and say, “This is your shift.”
He blinked. “Wait, what?”
“I need to do my nighttime routine,” you said matter-of-factly as you handed him the doll. “You always say I take a thousand years in the bathroom, so now’s your chance to see what it feels like to be left alone with the baby.”
“You mean with the fake baby.”
“She’s real in this house,” you snapped, pointing at the doll as if it had a soul. “Respect her.”
Jisung looked down at the silicone baby in his arms with resigned confusion, then back at you. “So what if she starts screaming again?”
You were already halfway to the bathroom. “Figure it out, dad.”
The door shut behind you, and silence settled over the room.
Jisung looked down at the doll, now swaddled awkwardly in the small receiving blanket that had come with it. Its eyes were closed permanently, apparently and its little chest made faint, mechanical “breathing” sounds. “You’re creepy as hell, you know that?” he murmured, but still adjusted his grip slightly to support the doll’s head.
For the next ten minutes, all was well.
He stretched out on the bed, propped his head up with a pillow, and scrolled aimlessly through his phone, the doll nestled somewhat stiffly on his chest. “This isn’t bad,” he muttered. “I could do this. This is just like babysitting... a haunted Cabbage Patch Kid.”
He even managed to zone out a little, swiping through social media and half-watching a video about how to swaddle a baby like a burrito when he heard it.
A soft whine.
Almost nothing, a faint, high-pitched eeeghh like an old hinge on a door.
He froze.
He glanced down.
The doll’s mouth hadn’t moved.
“...Probably nothing,” he said to himself, shaking his head, but slowly lifting it off his chest and placing it gently beside him on the bed. He even made a little pillow out of a folded hoodie, carefully laying the doll on its back.
As he turned to pick his phone back up, the room exploded.
A scream, sudden and glass-shattering came from the doll’s tiny body, louder than before, sharper, angrier.
Jisung jumped back like it had bitten him. “WHAT THE HELL!”
From the bathroom, your voice rang out. “I LEFT YOU FOR FIVE MINUTES!”
“I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING! IT JUST— IT JUST STARTED!”
“DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT, OH MY GOD!”
Jisung panicked. He scooped the doll back up, rocking it violently in his arms, nearly knocking his elbow into the lamp. “Shh, okay, okay, buddy, calm down, it’s me, it’s your very stressed fake dad!”
The screaming didn’t stop.
He grabbed the bottle from the nightstand and tried to plug it into the doll’s mouth again. Nothing. Still screaming.
He opened the instruction booklet with one hand, flipping through pages frantically. “Okay, okay, let’s see, troubleshooting... No feeding needed... comforting ineffective... Is this a test?!”
“PROBABLY DIAPER!” you yelled again, muffled by the closed bathroom door.
“Ugh, why didn’t I lead with that?!” he hissed, laying the baby down on the bed only for the screams to increase.
The doll writhed slightly in his arms. Not in a creepy horror movie way, just a subtle stiff movement, like it was reacting to being put down.
“Oh no,” Jisung groaned, lifting it again. “It won’t let me set it down? Are you serious right now?”
You opened the door just as he was fumbling with the little velcro diaper one-handed, the baby cradled awkwardly against his chest. Your pajamas were soft and oversized, your hair up in a towel, your face freshly moisturized and glowing, the picture of peaceful bedtime calm.
And Jisung looked like he had survived a natural disaster.
The doll was finally quiet again, nestled in one arm while he half-lay on the bed, his hair tousled and his shirt slightly damp with sweat. The clean diaper lay discarded at the edge of the bed, and the baby was now firmly attached to him as though leaving his arms would summon the wrath of the silicone gods again.
You stopped in the doorway, staring.
Then you burst out laughing.
“Oh my God,” you gasped between giggles. “You look like a hostage.”
He rolled his eyes but didn’t move. “He wouldn’t let me put him down.”
“She,” you corrected, walking over and sitting gently beside him.
“She screamed when I set her down. She hated it. I had to do the whole diaper thing with one hand! I deserve a medal.”
You leaned down, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “You did good, dad.”
He huffed. “I changed a fake baby’s diaper with one hand while being screamed at like I’d ruined her life. Is this what it’s going to be like for the next twenty years?”
“At least,” you said sweetly, pulling a blanket over both of you.
He closed his eyes dramatically, the doll still perched on his chest. “I can’t believe you paid money for this.”
“I can’t believe you bonded with it,” you teased, reaching out to brush the doll’s synthetic hair. “You’re kind of cute with a baby.”
“I was cute before the baby. Now I’m just exhausted.”
You giggled again, snuggling into his side. “I’m proud of you.”
He cracked one eye open. “Really?”
“Mhm. You handled it like a champ. Even if you screamed a little.”
“I didn’t scream.”
“You did.”
“You screamed at me.”
“And you deserved it.”
He sighed, leaning his head against yours. “Do you think... I mean, do you really think we’re ready for this?”
You looked at him, this man who just conquered a diaper while being yelled at by a baby robot, and you nodded. “We’re not perfect. We’re probably going to mess up. But we’re learning. Together. And that’s more than enough.”
Jisung smiled, soft and warm. “I like when you say things like that.”
“Why?”
“Because it makes me feel like we’re already a family.”
You paused, placing your hand over his, right where your daughter kicked once then twice, as if agreeing with his words.
“You feel that?”
He nodded, breath catching a little.
“She thinks so too.”
They lay there like that, the three of you a man, his wife, a mechanical baby doll cradled in his arms, and a very real baby girl still growing inside the two of you.
And even as the doll let out one last whimper before settling into sleep mode, neither of you minded anymore.
-
Later that night, after the chaos had calmed and the laughter had faded into drowsy giggles, the bedroom had finally settled into a comfortable quiet. The fake baby whom you’d both started calling “Luna” because naming her seemed weirdly appropriate now was still nestled against Jisung’s chest, her little head tilted slightly to the side, eyelashes painted on in delicate strokes. She hadn’t cried again in almost an hour, and you were starting to believe she might actually last through the night on some kind of pre-programmed sleep schedule.
You were tucked into his side, your head resting on his shoulder, the tips of your fingers grazing the doll’s blanket every now and then. The soft hum of the fan filled the room with a steady, lulling rhythm, and the bedside lamp cast a warm glow over everything, gold pooling across the sheets, catching in the strands of Jisung’s messy hair, turning the room into a soft little cocoon that belonged only to the two (okay, three) of you.
Jisung had been quiet for a while. Not in a tired way, more in that deep-thinking kind of quiet, where you could tell his thoughts were running long and wide.
You looked up at him. “What’re you thinking about?”
He blinked, eyes still on the ceiling. Then he smiled small, kind of shy. “You’re gonna laugh.”
“No, I’m not,” you said, though you were already grinning because he always said that right before saying something ridiculously sweet. “Tell me.”
He adjusted slightly, careful not to jostle the doll. His voice dropped to a low, sleepy murmur. “I was just thinking… I’m excited.”
You tilted your head. “About what?”
He let out a slow breath. “Everything. All of it. The bottles, the burping, the midnight rocking, the little squeaky shoes we bought last week. Even the part where she cries and I panic and screw things up.”
“You won’t screw anything up,” you whispered.
He smiled, but kept talking, his tone thoughtful. “I’ve been thinking about things I never used to think about. Like what kind of music she’ll like. Or if she’ll be scared of thunderstorms. And today, on the plane, I started thinking about what it’ll be like to take her to her first day of preschool.”
You blinked. Your heart did that thing it always did when Jisung surprised you with just how much love he carried around inside him quiet, steady, endless.
“Preschool?” you echoed softly.
“Yeah. I don’t know why that popped into my head. Just... the image of her, with this little backpack that’s way too big for her, holding your hand with one of those puffy jackets and her hair in messy pigtails. And then she lets go and runs toward her classroom and I stand there trying to act cool but I totally cry.”
You let out a soft coo of a laugh, reaching up to brush a strand of hair off his forehead. “You’re so going to cry.”
He gave you a mock-scandalized look. “Excuse me, I am a pillar of strength.”
“You cried at the ultrasound when we saw her hiccup.”
“That was a very emotional hiccup,” he mumbled defensively.
You giggled, eyes bright. “You’ve gotten so soft since we found out.”
He chuckled, and then his expression changed, the laughter dimmed into something quieter, deeper. “I don’t mind. I want to be soft for her. I want to be the dad that knows all the cartoon theme songs and makes her pancakes shaped like animals, and takes her to the bookstore even when she’s just gonna rip the covers off everything. I wanna show her what it looks like when a man loves his family, really loves them.”
You were already on the verge of tears. You didn’t even try to hold them back.
“I love you,” you whispered, voice thick with emotion. “And she’s going to love you so much.”
He looked at you then not with the goofy grin he always wore when he made you laugh, but with something softer, heavier. Something sacred.
“I hope so,” he murmured. “Because I already love her more than I know what to do with.”
You leaned up, cupping his cheek, your thumb brushing gently over the corner of his mouth. He turned his head just slightly, kissing your palm.
And then, without words, he leaned in, his lips meeting yours.
It was slow. Not hurried or intense, just warm, and full, and honest. The kind of kiss that said thank you, and I’m here, and you’re everything. You kissed him back, deepening it naturally, your hand slipping into his hair, his arm curving around your waist to pull you closer without disturbing the sleeping doll still cradled against his chest.
You felt his smile against your mouth. You felt yours, too.
Just then you both jerked back at the exact same time. The doll let out a bloodcurdling scream, arms twitching slightly in the weird animatronic way that made you gasp and clutch Jisung’s arm.
“OH MY GOD, AGAIN?!” he groaned.
You couldn’t help it, you burst out laughing, your face still flushed from the kiss, now completely ruined by the screaming plastic baby between you.
Jisung looked utterly betrayed. “She waited until we were having a moment.”
“She’s jealous,” you said, wiping tears of laughter from your eyes. “She doesn’t like sharing.”
He held the doll up at eye level like he was having a very serious discussion with it. “You’ve got to chill, Luna. We were bonding.”
It wailed louder.
“I don’t know what you want!” he pleaded.
“Try the bottle again!”
“It didn’t work last time—wait, never mind, okay, okay—”
As he scrambled for the bottle, you laughed so hard you had to lie down, your whole body shaking.
Even as the room filled with chaos again, and Jisung fumbled through trying to calm the doll for the third time that evening, your heart felt full. Not just from love, but from the quiet confidence that no matter how loud, unpredictable, or overwhelming life became, this was the man who would be right there beside you for every second of it.
And somewhere deep down, even with the fake baby screaming in his arms, you knew: you were going to be just fine.
-
By the seventh day, the doll had become less of a simulation tool and more of an omnipresent force in your lives. It had lived in your bedroom, your kitchen, your lap, your arms, your nightmares. It cried at 3:04 a.m. with mechanical consistency, screamed when its diaper sensor felt a single fold out of place, and whined unless held at a perfect 42-degree incline and yet, somehow, the two of you had endured it. Barely.
The house looked like new parents had moved in. There were pacifiers on the nightstand, burp cloths draped over the back of chairs, a bottle sitting suspiciously on the bathroom counter, and one very exhausted Jisung lying face-down on the couch at noon, mumbling into the cushions about how he might “never sleep again.”
He hadn’t said a word when you handed him the doll that morning after it cried for its fifth change at sunrise. He had simply accepted it like a man resigned to his fate and cradled it against his chest with bleary eyes, rocking in place.
You were in the kitchen, sipping orange juice with your feet up on the dining chair, when you heard the ding of an email notification on your phone. You picked it up casually, swiping it open, not expecting much.
Subject: Return Instructions for MyRealBaby – Week Trial Ending
You blinked.
Your eyes skimmed the text again, then slowly widened.
“Oh,” you whispered aloud.
You had completely forgotten that the doll was only meant for the first week.
The trial package had been clear, seven days of newborn simulation. It even came with prepaid return packaging. You were supposed to unscrew the back, remove the batteries to disable it, and send it back through the mail.
You hadn't told Jisung.
At first, it might’ve been because you wanted him to really experience it without mentally counting down the days. Or maybe it was because you thought it’d be realer if you both just got swept up in the process.
Or maybe, if you were being honest, you’d just forgotten. Somewhere between 3 a.m. screams, false alarms, and the way Jisung had started talking to the doll like it was his tiny coworker, the end date had completely slipped your mind.
You slowly walked into the living room, phone in hand, watching him on the couch. He was curled up like a shrimp, the doll still cradled against his chest, eyes closed, breathing shallow.
“You asleep?” you asked gently.
“No,” he replied instantly, voice muffled. “I’m afraid to sleep. If I sleep, she cries.”
You held back a laugh. “You know,” you began, walking over and crouching beside the couch, “I got an email this morning.”
He opened one eye, suspicious. “Unless that email is from someone offering to babysit for free, I don’t wanna hear it.”
“It was from the doll company.”
He groaned. “Did they hear me call her a goblin last night? Because I meant it with affection.”
You smiled, placing a hand on his shoulder. “They said the trial is over.”
That got his attention.
He blinked, sitting up slightly. “Wait... what?”
“I only ordered it for one week. Today’s the last day. We have to send it back.”
He stared at you, stunned. Then he looked down at the doll in his arms. Then back at you. “You mean to tell me,” he said slowly, voice rising with incredulity, “that this baby demon had an expiration date?”
You nodded, biting your lip to keep from laughing. “Yup.”
“And we’re done?”
“Done.”
He looked at the doll again, jaw slack. “I could’ve been free this whole time.”
“No,” you said quickly. “You still had to do the week. That was the whole point.”
“But you knew it was only a week?!” His voice cracked a little, the drama overtaking him.
“I... might’ve forgotten.”
He gasped. “You tricked me.”
“Not on purpose! I forgot, I swear!”
“You forgot to tell me that this little robotic banshee had a return policy?”
You laughed, sitting beside him on the couch. “You’re being so dramatic.”
“I haven't slept in days. I changed a fake diaper in the dark last night with one hand because I was holding my toothbrush in the other!”
“I told you, we’re done. We can take the batteries out now.”
He looked at the doll one more time, then at you, eyes wide with hope. “Wait... we can turn her off?”
You nodded, pulling the tiny screwdriver from the return kit out of your pocket like a magician performing a reveal. “Back panel. Pop out the batteries. Done.”
A beat of silence passed.
Then he pumped his fist in the air weakly. “Freedom.”
You snorted. “You look like a man who’s aged ten years.”
“I am a man who’s aged ten years.”
You took the doll from his arms and laid her gently on the coffee table. Jisung watched solemnly like it was a farewell ceremony.
“I need a moment,” he said, placing a hand over his heart.
You rolled your eyes but smiled. “It wasn’t that bad.”
He turned to you, eyes bloodshot, voice hoarse. “You fell asleep for twenty minutes yesterday and I had to do two changes, a feeding, and a burping while the spaghetti was boiling over.”
You gave him an innocent look. “And you did amazing.”
He narrowed his eyes. “No. You’re not doing that. Don’t try to sweet-talk me.”
“I’m just saying,” you said with a shrug, “it was kind of fun.”
“Fun?”
You leaned against him, resting your head on his shoulder. “In a weird way. It was chaotic and exhausting and honestly hilarious, but... also kind of sweet. You with a baby? Even a fake one? Pretty cute.”
He made a strangled sound. “Do not get ideas.”
“Maybe we should do it again,” you said, tone light and teasing.
He didn’t even hesitate. “Absolutely not.”
You burst out laughing. “What, you don’t want another week with Luna?”
“I want to bury Luna in a nice field somewhere and never hear her mechanical scream again.”
“She’ll miss you.”
“She’ll be fine. She has no soul.”
You kept giggling as you unscrewed the back of the doll, gently sliding the batteries out. The moment the final battery popped out of its compartment, it was like a curse had been lifted.
Silence. Beautiful, golden silence.
Jisung exhaled like a man who had just emerged from battle. “Sweet. Peaceful. Bliss.”
You nestled into his side again, and he wrapped an arm around you instinctively, sighing with relief.
“So,” you said softly, smiling against his chest, “what are you gonna do with all your free time now that your daughter’s fake trial run is over?”
He smirked. “Sleep. Eat food while it’s still hot. Remember what it’s like to sit on the couch without a screaming robot baby. And...” he paused, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, “...wait patiently. For the real thing.”
You smiled, heart full, as his hand settled gently over your belly, the real baby. The one that was coming soon. The one that would cry just as much, maybe more, but would be yours.
The doll was packed away that evening. But what stayed behind were all the tiny glimpses of the kind of dad Jisung was already becoming and the quiet understanding between the two of you that when the real sleepless nights came, you’d handle them. Together.
//
masterlist.
(a/n: some fluff to make up for all the angst i post. Lol)
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