I'm begging people to stop talking about Francesca's storyline in the book like the only way to conclude an infertility story is a successful pregnancy.
First off, the book ended without Francesca having a child, the only reason she had children in the epilogue (written years later mind you) is that fans complained.
She can still experience fertility issues and miscarry John's baby, she can still decide she wants to remarry for the chance of having a child, which will then cause conflict between her and Michaela.
Queer women can have fertility issues, and you can tell a poignant story about struggling to come to terms with not having the children you want, Fran's story was never about having children, her book ended without her having them, it was about wanting a child and not having one.
Spencer is here with something to say in this week's chapter art by @garbagemilkshake
Rated: Explicit
Warnings/Tags: Romance, Established Relationship, Married Couple, Married Life, Aged-Up Mutant Ninja Turtles, Villain Donatello (TMNT), Love, POV Second Person, Babies, Pregnancy, AFAB reader, Vaginal Sex, Rough Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Fertility Issues, Pregnant Sex, Pregnancy Kink, Reader-Insert, Cunnilingus, Fellatio, Cum Eating, Turtle Noises (TMNT), I have a Biology Degree and I’m Using it
Synopsis: First comes love. Then comes marriage. Then comes the next step about as smooth as the others arrived. The baby-oriented sequel to Weak Spot.
Also available on Ao3
First 💜 Previous
“Donatello… Y/N…” Spencer, the Senior Demonstrations Advisor at Donnie’s lab, folded his hands in front of his mouth in pseudo prayer. “There is no good way to say this, but… there is no circumstance in which the two of you will be able to adopt.”
From where you were sitting in one chair and Donnie in another, you both stared at the man.
He wilted without pressure. “You know I’ve done everything for you for all these years and you’ve treated me…”
He snuck a look at Donnie who was steel faced.
“I’ll just say it: Cruelly on your best days and like trash on your worst, but you have made my career and that’s why I stayed. You pay me incredibly well. The government pays me their own stipend in watching you. I have contacts like you wouldn’t believe! With the stakes in this company alone I’m set for-!”
Donnie only tapped his finger on his chair's limb.
It barely made a noise.
Spencer clammed right up. “Right and you know I brokered it all. I’ve gone to the board for you. I’ve gone to the government for you. When have I ever gotten you a response you didn’t want? They know it. They know I’m a pathetic middle man and you’ll do what you want regardless of them, so they often cave within reason and…”
This time Spencer cut himself off and sighed.
He then leaned back in his chair and looked his age. “The point is, the moment you started publically researching this topic two months ago, your activity was logged. The decision was made then. When you got your first state level rejection and came to me, I went up the chain with the usual ideology. The one that’s worked for years.”
You checked on Donnie, but even you couldn’t read anything from him.
“It was… different. I can't even tell you! It was like they removed anyone from the decision making process who could be swayed. My contacts were all gone. People who have dedicated their lives to America. It was… unlike anything I had ever seen.”
Spencer raised a hand to mess his hair, but thought better of it.
He stared at the appendage. “They levied all you’ve been given against you.”
You heard Donnie inhale.
It wasn’t sharp.
It wasn’t distinct.
He only appeared to take a single breath where he had not.
You looked away.
“You’ve never been convicted of a crime, but you are considered one of, if not the most, dangerous assets. Any time there’s a change in leadership, they almost always evaluate if you are still worth it to keep alive. When I got you approval to travel internationally, your data was shared with the world. They wanted to make sure you came back. They may not know everything you’ve done. Hell, I don’t know and I don’t want to know, but they know enough.”
You felt Donnie look at you.
“You’re brilliant. You’re the smartest guy I’ve ever met and ever will meet. You are insane. You’re something totally new. You do things… I can’t…” Spencer had to blow out a long breath to steady himself. “I have no doubt that even if you retired, that even if a mutant eradicating lunatic took office, you would be safe to live out your natural life.”
You couldn’t return the gaze.
“But there’s no way they’ll let you have a kid. In that way, you’ll always be a monster to them. The thought of you of all people raising a young mind?” Spencer kicked back from his chair and his admonishment was palpable. “They’re idiots! Idiots, all of them! I don’t even like you, but this!?”
Donnie finally returned his attention to Spencer.
“You know from when the EPF tried to cage and the others that they studied at least part of mutated DNA. They’ve guessed a lot from a little. They don’t think you’ll have a child naturally. They won’t let you use a lab to do it artificially. You're not going to foster. Hell, there's no way they'll let you even babysit a kid that isn’t yours for more than a few minutes.”
“Spencer.” Donnie spoke as if he hadn’t listened to a borderline lecture.
“Yes?”
“We’re trying.”
Spencer rubbed his face and again tried to save his hairline. “I know. I’m trying too.”
Donnie clicked his tongue.
“To help you!” Spencer’s volume rose and he dipped horrified. “Not me trying have a kid! I have enough of those! I meant I know you are trying to have one! Both of you! You two! I’m saying I know what you meant.”
Donnie’s lids lowered.
“I’m assuming you crunched the numbers.” Spencer pivoted as you assumed most business men would.
Donnie’s leg bounced the slightest amount as he weighed his options before he relented. “We have a 1.73% chance of conception.”
Spencer nodded and each bob of his chin grew more weary. “Woof.”
“It’s not zero.” You added.
“It’s not zero.” Spencer held a hand up as if that had been a bone for him.
“So… are you saying that even if we conceived… They’ll take the baby-?” You had to stop because your voice shook.
Spencer struggled for a long moment before he finally raked his hand through his hair. “They are betting on it not happening.”
“But you said-?” You pressed.
“I know!” Spencer’s voice grew heated and he cut himself off with a fearful snap of his lips. “I’m sorry. It’s not you at all. You have every right to ask questions. I shouldn’t be the one answering them. They’ve dismissed this so much it’s a damn insult! They’re spitting in your faces!”
“You don’t know?” You asked.
“I asked the same thing!” Spencer pleaded with you.
You quieted at the man’s sorrowful face.
“When I pressed about the million and one chance that it happened, I got conflicting answers. There was more than one representative at the meeting.”
You finally looked at Donnie.
Spencer shook his head. “The answers all ranged the same! One man said it wasn’t an option so why bother. Another acknowledged that mutants have been granted citizenship, but they’re all considered sterile with the implication they’ll be wiped out eventually.”
His jaw was set and he couldn’t return it.
“Point is, they don’t even want to consider it. That would mean drawing up new laws. They aren’t going to do extra work if they don’t have to. It’s a moot point.”
“Hacks.” Donnie sneered.
“This is going to be an ‘if it comes’ thing, if it comes at all! The certains are: you are banned from adoption. You’re not going to be able to sneak an abandoned drug den kid away with these rules, Donatello! This is as serious as serious gets.” Spencer set his hands on the table.
An unmistakable cowlick had broken free of his coif.
“They value my work, if I stop-” Donnie bore his gaze into Spencer.
“You are really, really useful to them alive. Genius Built is highly coveted and isn’t a company without you. It’s the place every graduate wants to work and every big brain hopes to walk through.”
Donnie waited for the other shoe to drop.
“They’ve finally drawn a line.” Spencer said with a pained expression. “Nothing you do is going to move the adoption thing. The baby situation…? That… If that existed, that might be something else, but that’s only a might.”
“What freedom-!?” Donnie seethed.
“Do you have!?” Spencer shot forward with his hands to his desk. “You have it all! You can walk about without police! You’re basically carte blanche! You get to live! You got to marry! You got to leave the country!! What do you have?! Is a kid that make it or break it!?”
Donnie rose in one fluid motion.
Spencer scrambled backwards so fast his chair squeaked. “I have kids! They’re nasty! They’re gross! The grossest! They’re draining little parasites! They’ll grow up to hate you! They despise me! Don’t get mad at me because you don’t know!!!”
You tore through your wedding band to demand Donnie sit.
Your mate tossed fury your way and seemed to ask why you weren’t this mad.
You let your sour show slow and leaked poison through your bond that you were.
An indignant wave hit him before he turned to Spencer. “They take away Y/N’s freedom.”
Spencer was still on high guard. “Y/N is on the same international list as you now.”
Donnie traded ire for horror.
“I’m what?” You blinked.
“Maybe not as a threat like Donatello, but you’re a person of interest. All your travel will be monitored.” Spencer explained warily.
“That’s…” Your head rolled and you stared at the ceiling.
“I thought you knew…” Spencer’s voice whined.
“How would we know?!” Donatello growled. “You said travel was clear!!”
“Y/N married you!” Spencer matched him without standing. “There was explicit danger there!”
“And now Y/N isn’t allowed to have a child!? They will be taken away!?” Donnie stormed forward.
Spencer tried to hold himself as the desk was between them.
You brought your chin down and into your hands while sending out a stop command to your mate.
He heeded it, but would not budge.
“You can’t adopt. You can’t use fertility options. They don't want you inventing ways around anything but au naturel. They're neutering you like that.” Spencer listed off.
Donnie loomed and you could almost see the miasma pour off his aura.
You thought over the conversation and then Spencer as a whole.
He was the man who sold Genius Built.
He was a man who has worked with Donnie for years.
He was a man who was as stereotypical white collar as they came.
“There’s no rule about me getting pregnant because they don't think I will.” You spoke.
Donnie didn’t turn.
Spencer tipped his body to see you. “Exactly.”
“What have you got for that?” You asked.
Spencer watched you for a beat before he smiled. “See this! Your spouse always gets it! They make you more palatable, but not great, you know?”
Donnie’s anger flared.
Spencer inched away from his desk and was clearly moving towards you. “I can’t guarantee your child will be safe.”
You nodded.
Donnie’s head tipped back, but not enough for you to see.
“I can’t say they won’t be either. Donatello has always been a ‘ask for forgiveness instead of permission’ kind of guy. He was going to leave the country regardless of what I did. He was going to invent regardless of the label. He was going to fight the US government by himself regardless of whatever that was!”
You wondered how much Spencer really knew.
“What’s the gestation like if you get knocked up?”
You looked to Donnie.
“We aren’t sure, but hypothesize similar to human.”
“Nine months and that’s if you already got lucky…” Spencer ruminated.
Donnie didn’t correct him.
You guessed that made sense.
Donnie had only very recently entered the phase where he could test to see if his birth control was out of his system. He was meant to pick up some supplies from the lab today. There was no point prior to now. All that had been done is he’d started closely examining your body with your permission. It included daily wellness checks that supposedly charted your ovulation schedule. Your husband had made them tender periods instead of clinical ones so you hadn't considered them much.
“Are you two going to keep trying?” Spencer asked only you.
“Yes.” You answered.
“Are you going to break the adoption or fertility rules that have been set down?”
You met his eye harshly. “The first would endanger the child so I'm going to unilaterally say no. The second, what even counts? If I take a vitamin, is that wrong?”
Spencer lit up and went for his computer.
He tacked several things in before he apparently got a window he wanted.
Then, he mouthed out what you had asked as he wrote.
“If you conceived, how staunch are you on keeping the baby’s records secret?” Spencer finally asked something else.
Donnie took a threatening step.
“Sealed, heard.” Spencer nodded along with his notes. “What about you, Y/N? The pregnancy data will be something...”
Donnie meant to take another step, but you finally got to your feet and cut him off with a hand to his arm. “It depends. Are you looking for loopholes?”
“I work in sales.” Spencer stopped writing to look at you. “I sell Donatello. I do what I need to.”
There was a hefty confidence there that you felt was warranted.
Donnie had kept Spencer around after all.
“Don’t you guys have a crazy legal team?” You put yourself between Donnie and Spencer.
Spencer’s plastic smile shone bright. “We have the best damn legal team of sharks that ever roved US waters.”
“Can… we win?”
“We can try.” Spencer typed out one last thing before spinning to address you. “Here’s the pitch: you guys make a baby.”
Donnie shook his head at the absurdity.
Spencer ignored him. “While you break that hurdle, I will do everything in my power to protect the prodigal son. I’m gonna get the US decision saying what you can't do in formal writing and give it to the shark tank. We’ll shred the loopholes into doorways. We’ll walk all over them. They might want something though. We’ve got stuff in the in GB here that’s tasty and reserved to sweeten whatever pots we need. The EPF is gone and the loons were silenced, but the government can't pretend like they've really moved on from the mutant thing. Some people still see the advantages. There’s been real world change, especially environmental, that has stemmed directly from mutant cooperation! If it's got breakthrough written on it, they'll want it, especially pharmaceuticals. You have no idea how far this can go. If it can make money, that talks. Way louder than bureaucrats in Washington!”
You stared on.
Spencer’s lids lowered. “I'm saying we give up on trying to convince the US shit show. We get ourselves better backers, green ones, as in money green, Donatello green, and that's what's actually going to get you what you want. Like everything else.”
You nodded slowly.
“I’m gonna refine that speech, by the way.” Spencer told Donnie.
Donnie ignored him.
“Why… do all this…?”
“Pardon?” Spencer perked up.
“Why help us…? The travel thing was at least a wedding gift… This… this isn’t in your job description. None of it has been.”
Spencer stared at you dully for a moment before he leaned in like he had a secret. “So?”
You twitched at his apparent audacity.
He smiled a smarmy veneer. “You think it's in an assistant’s job description to get coffee?”
Your lips parted, but you weren’t sure with what.
Spencer answered for you. “No, but it’s implied you do it. Everyone does it. That and pick up dry cleaning. You maintain the boss's schedule, you push meetings when he’s hung over, and you work through the politics. It’s what you do! Have you ever heard me call Donnie an evil man? No and I never will. You know who gets called evil on a daily basis? Me, darling. I’ve been cussed out by more people than you can count. I’m hated by multi-international corporations because I’m good at what I do and what I do is sell him!”
Donnie looked down Spencer’s pointed finger with disinterest.
“I’m set for life because of it! I’m not going anywhere! I didn’t give you the travel voucher as a wedding gift! I would have been fine getting you a toaster that would break in six months. I got the travel ban lifted because I wanted my meal ticket to come back. If he wants a kid then I’m gonna move mountains because I know what he’s like when he doesn’t get what he wants and it’s bad.”
Spencer finally left the safety of his desk and openly approached Donnie.
“Do the screen thing. Projections I sent you in the email three days ago at 3:24pm.”
Donnie glowered, but brought his wrist up.
You saw a graph appear in one of Donnie’s screens that apparently showed Genius Built’s growth.
It had been on nothing but a rise in all the recent quarters.
“This-” Spencer pointed to a spot that marked right before the rapid incline. “-is when he disclosed his relationship with you, which I have only been able to guess is when you guys became official official.”
You looked between the data and him.
“You entered Donatello’s life and his creativity spiked. Not just any inventions, but one’s with mass-market appeal! All useful hit after hit. You rejuvenated our stocks. You’re the direct correlation. We’ve never tapped children’s markets! Do you have any idea how much potential there is!? How what you’ll make isn’t just some brat, but a kid’s revolution in general?! People won’t be able to think about popping out little shits without Genius Built!”
The man was manic enough that you inched away from him.
Donnie closed the screen and this time he used his body as a barrier.
Spencer cleared his throat and pushed out his hands in some sort of inspired breathing exercise.
“Point is, I’m not doing it to be a good person.”
You felt Donnie’s appreciation.
Your head pivoted toward your mate and you saw how his cold expression honed on Spencer.
Your brow wrinkled in confusion.
“I’d bet on what I'm doing over benevolence any day. I'm doing something that someone’s going to fight tooth and nail over.” Spencer added before he leaned back against his desk.
It was the honesty.
Donnie liked that Spencer was truthful.
Neither man bullshitted the other.
They were in the ultimate symbiotic relationship.
Something of only convenience.
The moment either party didn’t benefit, they would move on.
The fact they’d been at this for years said something too.
You heaved a sigh and guessed Spencer wasn’t wrong, though it didn’t feel great.
“I’ll think about the pregnancy stuff.” You relented.
“I’ll take it.” Spencer bobbed his body and looked at Donnie. “What do you think? Nothing moves without you, sir.”
Donnie let the moment simmer before he gave the barest nod. “Find me choices and security or find other employment.”
It didn’t sound like the threat Donnie hoped.
You tempered your grin.
Spencer took it the same way, but pretended to be alarmed by waffling away. “Understood! I’ll send my formal proposal in an hour.”
Donnie turned and, in passing, you shared a glance that said this meeting was over.
You said goodbye to Spencer where your mate didn’t and the man waved you off.
He started a phone call before his door shut closed.
Donnie continued to move, but you hung back by the office.
It was soundproofed and you heard nothing more after the door shut.
Donnie noticed your hindrance and turned back.
“Adoption… was our plan…” You spoke with burbling sadness. “Not a fallback, that’s what we-”
Donnie was at your side in an instant. “I know, but not here…”
“Not here…” You slipped away from your mate and held yourself as you walked.
He followed close behind.
There would be no adoption.
You were at the mercy of less than two percent chances.
You would have to give birth.
By all accounts, a child was now only a dream.
Donnie had told you.
Donnie would never be allowed to live freely.
He said he would live his entire life under some form of threat.
That would never end.
It now extended to you.
If you had a child with Donnie there was a chance they could be taken away.
You squeezed your torso so tight that it felt like your ribs compressed.
Donnie touched your arm and you twitched in realizing that you were still in the labs proper.
Scientists busied themselves around you.
Not here.
Donnie needed supplies, you reminded yourself.
Not here.
You nodded for him to go ahead and slipped off toward where a pillar afforded you a place out of the way.
Not here.
It was unfair.
The injustice made you ill.
Your mate was loving.
Your mate was caring.
Your mate fostered a smile in spite of everything he had gone through.
Your mate was a murderer.
You blew out an air that allowed you to get just a little more of your body.
That was it and more.
Political enemy.
War criminal.
Weapons manufacturer.
Drug dealer.
There was no end to his crimes.
How had Spencer put it?
Something about Donnie shaping young minds.
Wasn’t that what he did now?
Donnie was the last step in the process granting all these scientists their projects.
He was allowed to do that because this benefited the world.
Would a child of his offer nothing?
Donnie was a weapon.
Donnie was a husband.
The swirl threatened to consume you.
Donnie was there, by your side once more.
You didn’t look at him as you moved for the elevator.
Your torso ached.
He got the button.
The elevator ride was a loaded one.
Every grievance filled the metal box until you thought you would suffocate.
Then the doors opened to the lobby and you darted out at freedom.
You stumbled as you crossed the clean floors.
You were outside and to where the car was parked.
It opened its doors, invitingly, and you accepted the offer.
Donnie moved to the trunk.
Its slam shook your body when it closed.
Donnie entered the vehicle.
The door closed.
The engine turned.
The moment you were in motion, your mate pulled you to him.
Your tiny body curled up in his.
It fell out of you.
“Why aren’t you allowed to add some good to this world?!”
“Don’t they see how you’ve changed?!”
“Haven’t they seen what you’ve done!?”
“How can we do this!?”
“How can we have a kid in good faith!?”
“How is trying to have a child under these circumstances not abuse!?”
“They did this! They put us in this position! How is that fair!?”
“I already thought it was so damn selfish! How can I add to that?!”
“We could do everything! We could do everything right and they could be taken from us!”
“We can’t even help another child like you!!”
“Another kid who was lost! We can’t save them!!”
“It’s ridiculous!!!”
“It’s not fair!!!”
“I HATE THIS!!!”
Donnie responded.
You knew he did.
To each and every sentence, he had something to say.
You heard none of it.
You were irrational.
You could feel how much.
Who was that person who had been in the room with Spencer?
How had they taken the news so coldly?
Donnie had been furious.
Donnie had thought you would be.
You thought you were.
You were now.
It was too late.
For what?
What good would it have done?
Spencer was nothing more than a messenger.
That was why the government talked through him and not to Donnie.
How many times had they tried to buy out Spencer?
There was no way they hadn’t tried to place a plant as close to Donnie as possible.
Spencer had good in him.
You didn’t care what he said.
There was good.
He wasn't evil.
Nothing was so black and white.
Just like this.
When you emerged from your stupor, you were bundled up on the couch.
Swaddled in your favorite blanket, you rubbed your cheek against the softness and looked further.
On the table were at least three drinks and two snacks.
All things you loved.
Running at a near silent volume was one of your favorite shows.
Donnie had done what he could and presumably realized you were unreachable.
He’d then set you up with creature comforts before giving you space.
Instead of looking for him through your wedding band, you withheld yourself to search.
It seemed comical to you that he would be anywhere other than at his desk.
He was standing and looking over a microscope.
He was examining the mobility of his sperm to see if they had recovered.
After all you had said was he still planning to move forward?
He must have felt the question because your mate looked up, attentively listening to those emotions that you could both hear before he turned to you.
You felt helplessness in your eyes, but tried to parboil them for him.
He held a faint scold for your cover-up as he approached.
“Nuzzle, please.” You told him.
He diverted course to meet you with the back of the couch as your safety net. He caught it and leaned over to scrub his beak against your cheek. You let the affection roll over you before you felt you could return it in earnest.
He solemnly accepted.
As soon as you stopped, he retreated and tucked his chin against a couch cushion to watch you.
“I… didn’t hear anything you said. I’m sorry.”
Donnie’s lip pursed nonchalantly. “Nothing of importance.”
“I doubt that.” You held a hand up to his.
He lifted his fingers.
You thread the digits. “Tell me. I bet you had some great points or plans.”
He stared at your entwined hands for a long moment. “No.”
Your lips parted, but you didn’t make a sound.
He looked sad. “Everything you said. You are right.”
Your heart had barely surfaced and was once again treading water.
“This was always a dream. The mechanisms were always stacked against us, in my name. We went to Spencer because the state of New York was never going to let us adopt. Regardless of my record, there is discrimination in the system at its purest form, let alone against a mutant. I am only sorry I could not have protected you more.”
“All you did was warn me! All you’ve ever done…”
“Then you’ll remember quite clearly that each time you dismissed me I insisted upon the matter.”
He was right and you lowered your gaze.
“I do see one thing differently.”
You punished yourself for a few more seconds before meeting his eyes.
“You said we were denied a chance to make a child happy. Be it our own, foster, or more.”
Your head rose a little higher. “You can’t-”
He squeezed your hand lightly to stop you.
You felt a little protest bubble through your bond.
He kissed one of your knuckles. “I have lived my life in complete rejection of authority figures.”
You stalled.
“I watched time and time again as parental-aged adults passed me over. Those who did not ignore my existence used me for gain or saw to destroy me. I had no childhood, but there was little time to yearn. I had to survive.”
You leaned into him.
He gave you no leeway. “My dearest, I don’t think I’ll be a good parent. I don’t believe they exist. I know that as a fact. All children are disturbed by their parents in some shape or form.”
You moved to fight, but he caught a finger to your lips.
“You can argue otherwise, but there are already signs. You know my disposition. You've fought it. I’m obsessive which would translate to helicopter parenting. I have days where I can’t handle noise or bodily fluid, both of which are the general make-up of young children. I am stubborn. I am cold.”
You frowned deeply against his digit.
He pressed once there as a point before releasing you.
You started with the usual complaints, but you saw his gaze.
It was clear, open, and didn’t hold pain.
It was a fact that he accepted.
He wasn’t exactly wrong.
The only thing you could fight him with was scientific data which came in the form of his pathetic sample size.
You bet he already knew that.
He also hadn’t thought himself capable of love in general though.
Yet here you were.
The gentle current through his ring held an understanding of that as well.
“Why do this then?” You chose as your response.
“Why do anything?” His lips crinkled with bare amusement.
Its unguarded nature caused your chest to restrict.
He tipped closer. “I’m selfish. All signs told me not to entertain you, but I did. Even when my apocalyptic heralding came to be, I could not leave you because despite all the suffering I caused you, it was outweighed by my desire for you. I have the same desire for children. I know I will mess up. I believe you will as well, no matter how high a regard I have for you. That is what I know, but you are my stunning anomaly. You are my heart and why would I not want to concoct the ultimate combination of our forms? I adore creation and what is this if not its elevated form?”
“Donnie…”
“I am under no delusion as to how that sounds. It’s selfish. My only awareness lies in their personhood which I learned firsthand. I tried for too long to control S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. I have barely amended such. Our offspring may have our visage, hopefully more so yours…” He gave a calculated churr.
You tapped him with your nose.
He languished in the touch. “But they are not us and won’t be.”
You gave into a small sigh and thought for a moment. “Is there a line for too selfish?”
“You nearly lost your life. Yes, there is and I am ignorant of it.”
“Even if there’s a threat of taking our child away?”
“Nothing…” Donnie rose a little taller to show his might. “That I have even the most minute control over will take anything away from us, especially you. I have contingencies. I will resort to the lowest blows. We may go into hiding, but I will burn the entire population of the Earth down before a sentient being thinks it can separate me from my family.”
You stroked his shoulder in a downward motion to coax him off the ledge.
He dipped down to meet you with a butting of his head.
You kissed him.
“That is of course only if you want to continue. You bear the bodily burden. I can renew my birth control at a moment’s notice. However, I believe the risk outweighs the reward and that comes from the purple personification of peril.”
You were quiet for a moment.
Was that really okay?
You supposed you had long been your own form of selfish.
You often and willfully had ignored Donnie’s warnings.
You to this day downplayed his past transgressions.
All because you loved him and wanted to be with him.
A sudden reel of all your own emboldened activities spun through your mind’s eye.
You had really aggravated an armed assailant once.
You couldn’t help but smile a little.
What was the US government?
People gave it the middle finger on a daily basis.
They weren’t some be all and end all.
They weren’t going to take your child.
With Donnie, you were invincible.
Even though in practice that was patently not true, you were inclined to still believe it.
When you looked at Donnie, you found him waiting without judgment either way.
You reached into his being through your bond to explore how deep that went.
He allowed you full access to his emotion and he only seemed to further soften in your mystic grip.
He was all yours.
You pecked the tip of his beak and only felt a little bad for your display because it seemed like wasted energy.
You supposed you were allowed a meltdown.
It was a lot.
It would continue to be a lot.
You were going from peace to the fire.
You wanted it no other way.
You slipped from your wedding band and stared Donnie down.
His eyes glinted under the interest.
“You’ll need to… renew… the birth control?” You asked softly.
His lids lowered sultry. “While it is not completely out of my system, there has been marked bounce back in sperm motility.”
“No lasting side effects?”
“We have a few more days to see, but signs say no. I posit I will return to full virility.”
You tapped the couch once before chewing your lip.
He waited with bated breath.
“You don’t believe in fate.”
“I don’t.”
“With our odds, isn’t it kinda like that?”
“No.”
“No?”
“It will happen if it does. There is only probability.”
“Not very romantic.”
“What were you hoping I’d say?”
“Something about how you’d make it happen…”
“For you? I would. I would move mountains. I would level forests. I would topple whatever stood between us because I could. As frustrating as it is, my precious science bars me here and I cannot bend her rules.”
“Ah, your mistress.” You shook your head.
Donnie growled a little and feigned leaping over the couch at you.
You giggled and pulled him the rest of the way over.
He churred as he laid on top of you.
With it, you imagined the weight of a child.
How it would fill out your body.
All that entailed.
The pain.
The horror stories.
Was your only option a one you should chance?
Donnie had said something about it.
About child birth and how time only cured so many of its dangers.
Dangers you and Donnie faced regularly.
Dangers that might not manifest.
All more playing of odds with no way to know.
“My health…” You worried aloud.
“You will have care like no other should you so choose. You are not to be left to chance. You will be my choice in an instant. My priority.”
You nodded before a rueful smile played on your lips. “Unbiased science husband… Do you think… I’ll be okay?”
“Impossible terms to ask under, but I wouldn’t consider this otherwise.”
“And the rest…?”
“There is no fate. We dream.” Donnie responded.
You pulled him close and felt your worries melt away as you pictured three of you cuddled just like this. “Then let’s dream.”
(Check out behind the scenes for this fic and more on my Patreon. You can follow me there, here, or the tag #softspotfic for updates)
Thank you as always to my darling betas @tmntxthings and @thepinkpanther83
Just my little randomly timed appreciation for you guys post.
Thanks for liking my stuff. Im so happy call of duty Ghosts is still enjoyed.
Im going through some not fun health stuff lately. My last Fertiliy treatment didnt take so my husband and I are doing IVF in January. Writing for you all has really kept my mind off of the rough stuff.
weird question but do we... know if the demons are fertile at all??? obviously they have sex drives,,, but do we hear of any kids? i mean if it comes down to it adopting luke is always an option. just going to have to wrestle him from Simon if you're with anyone other than him
🐈⬛
Note: discussion of fertility and having kids (just in case)
Hello there, 🐈⬛ anon!
As far as I know, the only demon kids we hear about are Diavolo, Mephistopheles, and presumably Mephisto's little brother.
Diavolo tells us that his mother died after giving birth to him, so I think it's safe to assume that demons are fertile to some extent.
Of course, there's always the fan favorite theory that Dia's mom was a human or an angel. Which would mean at the very least that demons are fertile enough to have children with other species. So even if this turns out to be canon, I think it's still safe to assume demons are fertile.
We hear a lot less about Mephisto and his brother, but the brother certainly sounds like he's still considered a kid. And Mephisto says something about being born to be Dia's friend, so generally I think most of us imagine them as having been kids together.
Due to this, I think it's perfectly reasonable for any of the demons to have kids. It seems that it may be difficult, though. Because if demons could have kids as easily (and sometimes accidentally) as humans, then likely there would be a lot more demon kids than we hear about. (And possibly a lot more demons in general.)
I like to think that the demon population is much smaller than it is for humans (by like a lot 'cause dang there are a lot of humans). I think of it as like maybe being around 8 million in the city proper (like the size of New York City). And then the rest is more scattered and in a lot of less populated cities and such. Maybe around 20 million? And some of that would also be non demons, since they talk about vampires and whatnot else. And also some of those are gonna be those small type demons that sound like they're fairy sized.
Anyway, all of this is to say that if demons are popping out kids at the same rates as humans for all their long lives, there'd be WAY more of them. Like the whole world times five maybe. I dunno, it sounds like the live for thousands upon thousands of years, but still might only have one or two kids that whole time.
So they either have amazing contraception or it's actually rather difficult for them to actually have a child.
Then there's the question of how demons might be created from magic - whether exploding out of a different demon's emotions Satan-style or possibly just magical spells that allow one to create a child.
In the case of MC, I think it's possible. They might need to use some magic to make it happen (depending on how easy it is for any of the other demons to impregnate MC/get impregnated by MC), but it definitely sounds like something that can happen.
I like the idea of MC just adopting random demon kids, though. 'Cause you're right, you'll have to wrestle Simeon for Luke lol!
Warnings: Established relationship, medical diagnosis, reader is not able to have kids, lots of feelings, insecurity and worry, Din being just the absolute sweetest, comfort, reader has a uterus but this can actually be read as a gn! reader I think.
Last year, a cancer diagnosis robbed me of the choice to have kids. It's been a journey to grieve and process this, even when I thought I might not have kids anyway. This story was written in response to an ask to @haylzcyon who gave me the permission and strength to write this. This is dedicated to that anon, and anyone else who has gone through something like this.
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You sat in a stunned silence outside the medcenter, wide-eyed and stone-faced. The people of the town bustled in front of you as they went about their day, buying fruits and textiles, laughing and arguing and living.
Rage boiled up inside of you. How could they just run their errands like everything was normal? Like your whole world hadn’t just been upended? The feeling was misplaced but you couldn’t find it within yourself to care. Anger was easier than the unnameable monster that was eating at you from the very pit of your stomach. You clenched your hands into fists, knuckles white and aching.
“That deal took much longer than I wanted, I’m sorr- what’s wrong?” Normally the shiny Mandalorian was hard to miss - unless he wanted to be invisible - but you hadn’t noticed him walk up beside you. His hand went to his belt as he glanced around the crowd, his other hand protectively gripping your shoulder.
His touch shocked you out of your resentment of the world. “No, it’s- nothing’s wrong, Mando. Can we go back to the ship? Now, please?” You inwardly cringed at how high your voice was as you tried your best to be fine, and you knew that he clocked it immediately as well.
With a silent nod, Mando guided you back to the ship that you both called home. His left hand never left the small of your back as he parted the crowds for you wordlessly. At first, you found comfort in his presence but dread slowly seeped into your bones as you realized that you were going to have to explain what the doctor had just told you.
Mando’s helmet was off almost before the door of the ship had whooshed closed. “Cyare, what’s wrong? What happened?” His deep brown eyes bore a hole into your soul, and as soon as his hands cupped your face you broke down in tears. The ugly sobs poured out even though you wished them back into your body with every ounce of your being.
“I-I just went in to get my meds refilled and get some more bacta patches for the ship, right? I hadn’t seen a doctor in a while so he ran some…some tests.” Mando nodded along even though he knew all of this already. His thumbs stroked your cheeks as he tried not to rush you. The worry was clear on his face, though. You needed to just spit it out.
“He said I can’t, well I shouldn’t…I can’t have kids, Din. I can’t give you kids. I’m s-so…I’m so sorry. And I didn’t even know I wanted to have kids but now I can’t. I’m so sorry.” You collapsed against him as the sobs returned. He immediately wrapped his arms around you. Stars above, he must be so upset. What if he was angry? What if he didn’t want to be with you now? All you could think was the worst.
Mando murmured sweet, soft things to you as he softly kissed the crown of your head. As your tears subsided you could make out what he was saying.
“I love you, I love you, I love you. Please be alright, I love you.”
Your heart fully cracked open. “You’re not mad?” you asked with a shaky voice, finding the courage to look him in the eyes.
“Mad?” he asked quizically. “Why would I be mad?”
The assumptions you had made in your head spilled out of you.“You’re just…you’re such a good dad! And I can’t ever give you that. You deserve someone who can give you kids and the life that you want. I’m so sorry.”
“No!” Mando said firmly as he hugged you to his chest again. “Don’t apologize again. There is nothing to be sorry about.”
Relief rushed over you and you finally wrapped your hands around his waist. “Okay,” you whispered into the beskar chest plate. You stood there with him - your protector, your love, your Din - and said nothing as your breathing finally returned to normal. When you pulled back to look at him, you saw that his face was still twisted in worry.
“Are you- please, cyare, tell me if you’re well. Are you sick? Is it..is it bad?”
The realization that you had totally skipped over the why of this made you mentally kick yourself. “I’m fine! I’m- well, it’s not a terminal illness or anything. I’m so sorry- no, let me apologize for this,” you chided when he opened his mouth to protest. “It’s not something that will hurt me, so long as I don’t get pregnant. But I’m alright, physically I’m alright.”
Din felt his own relief with that reassurance and settled you both down on your shared cot so that you could fill him in on every detail. He held your hand the entire time and wiped away your tears when they came again, never rushing or prodding. When you were finally done explaining you looked at him with expectant eyes. What would he say now that he knew the finality of it all?
Din wasn’t a man of many words. This had certainly been the case when you met him, and he still was more likely to sit back and listen rather than speak. He cleared his throat and you held your breath. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what it is like to lose the choice to have children. But listen- we have a kid. We have Grogu. You’re my family. You’ve given me everything I could want.”
You bit your lip. “Swear?”
He nodded. “I swear. Down the line, if we want kids, we can adopt them as our own. I was a kid who needed a home, and so was Grogu. But as long as it’s the three of us, that’s all that matters.”
You believed him. The look in his eyes, the way he held you to him, the way he has always protected you with his life. You believed him.
Din kissed you, long and slow, and you melted into each other. “Speaking of, it’s time to go pick up Grogu from Greef. He’s probably destroyed his office by now,” he said with a chuckle. “You okay?”
“I’m okay,” you sighed. You knew you would be, even when it got hard again.
You both stood and Din led you by the hand to the cockpit. It was time to go pick up your child.
Warning for self-indulgent personal post below (tw: fertility/pregnancy talk):
A small handful of you may have seen in a few places where I’ve alluded to dealing with fertility issues over the last 1.5ish years — some feelings around it came up when Kelly’s pregnancy was announced, and for my husband and I, writing Grill the Grid together last year was a bit of a coping mechanism or escape from the stress and fatigue of what I’ve seen very accurately described online as a “never-ending groundhog day of two week waits.”
Well, as of this month it’s official…… I’M PREGNANT!!!!! 🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉
It’s obviously still early enough on that we’re only telling a small circle of people IRL at this point, but I’ve been bursting to talk about it and decided this was as good (and relatively anonymous) a space as any. 😁 And since most of you probably follow me from one of my fics, just putting it out there that I have NO clue how this will impact my writing output lol… right now I just feel achy and tired and (TMI) my boobs are sore af, but I should still be able to finish the fic I’m working on for the rare pair fest, and then I’m hoping to get as many of my other unwritten ideas on paper as I can before the lil bean arrives around October. But who knows! I’m new to all of this! Just filled with so much relief and joy and excitement that I had to express it somewhere, and also wanted to say a sincere thank you to anyone who’s left kind comments on any of my work over the last year since I started writing for F1. That really has been such a bright spot during an otherwise challenging time. ❤️
kinda naive neglected housewife!reader going to a new gyno to get a second opinion on why youre struggling to conceive and when sorta dark highkey manipulative dr miller examines you he finds theres nothing wrong with you so its clearly a problem with your partner but if you really really really want that baby he has no problem helping you out a bit ;) and that theres no need to be worried because its all a part of your special treatment. (insisting you need routine checkups but its just an excuse to fuck you crazy and then see if he knocked you up yet)
like at some point it occurs to you that joel is a fuckass creep but its hotter to you than it should be and you find that you really dont give a shit as long as he keeps fucking you the way he has been
Oooh, hot. I've heard great things about @swiftispunk's (not dark) gyno joel: part one, part two.
I know I have other medical thots in my inbox too. I haven't gotten in the mood for a doctor (could be I hate doctors lmao), but I'm hoping to do a Dark Nurse Joel this month and can revisit medical thots to see what might fit.
What did you think of learning to run? I've never really liked it but felt like I need to get more exercise in
Honestly i have just sat and considered your question while drinking my evening tea, anon, and I actually think it's been a very profound and interesting process!
The backdrop is I ran a little in the spring and summer of 2020 because (in the UK at least) we were only allowed to leave the house for a short time per day during the worst of the pandemic and running meant I was able to cover more ground and get to the river and a nicer place to walk. I never ran more than two minutes or so at a time and was in a constant walk/run/walk/run pattern. My cardio fitness was non existent despite being fairly fit and healthy so I was BADLY out of breath very quickly and didn't enjoy the sensation at all. Running was purely a mode of transport and a necessary escape from what was a very scary time.
Now - I'll be honest - I actually just wrote out a whole answer about how I wanted to pick running back up because I have a horribly athletic husband (true) who has to stay very very fit in order to do his job (also true) who's idea of a fun leisurely run is a 10k at a 6min kilometre pace (wish it wasn't, but sadly true) and because I wanted to get really good and beat him (lowkey do, I'm very competitive) - but that isn't actually the truth at all. Mr sportsthoughts has been cheerfully suggesting we go for a run together for years with absolutely no success and the real reason I've picked it back up now is because, like during covid, I have found myself in a rather difficult stage of life and running has emerged as a strange but effective escape.
This year has been spent under the rather dark cloud of (unsuccessfully, so far) trying to have a baby and it has been one of the most emotionally exhausting and distressing extended periods of my adult life. My body - which I'd previously had a very healthy and happy relationship with - has felt like the enemy. A failure, at times, and certainly something wildly out of my control. After quite a lot of months of moping, I realised that exercise was a way of reclaiming some kind of bodily control and feeling like my body was achieving something, even if that wasn't the thing I actually wanted it to do. I started running a few parkruns (I don't know where you're from and if parkrun is a thing where you live but in the UK they are a series of local community organised Saturday morning runs - always a 5k) and I found a huge sense of achievement in just... pushing through the pain. There really was no learning or training. I just decided if I was miserable I could at least be miserable and move my sorry self around a forest for an hour or so 🤣
At some point in time my wonderful darling friend @rimouskis, who has been the best cheerleader I could possibly wish for in running and not rotting and life in general mentioned the Pens 6.6k and I realised it could be done virtually and I thought well I can push through the pain of 5k... and turns out I can push through the pain of 6.6k too! Having a target to work towards and a buddy doing it with you really helps.
This is quite a diversion from your question but I hope it answers it in some way - I didn't "learn" to run or really set out to run at all. Yeah it's been really good for my cardio fitness and it's been a lovely way to get outside and enjoy the summer weather AND yes I did force mr sportsthoughts to fork out for a pair of shiny new pink running shoes as a show of support. But more so I've found the beautiful thing about running is that it's free and accessible and you can do it after a huge cry or you can do it with unwashed hair and mismatching clothes and it feels far more accessible (to me, someone who likes to leave the house Put Together At All Times) than going to the gym and seeing people I know and having to put on a brave face. After thirty seconds of running I look like a tomato and sweat is running down my face so who cares if I'm actually crying or not. It's also very powerful to prove to yourself you can do things that feel difficult or uncomfortable. I've always been someone who's avoided discomfort at all costs so I'd like to think deliberately putting myself in situations that feel physically challenging is building some kind of resilience.
Anyway, all of that to say: running is actually quite nice. I really recommend just throwing on some trainers and getting outside and having a little jog and seeing where it takes you. I'll be real, it still feels like shit while you're doing it, but a productive, cathartic kind of shit.
