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#master bedroom + tiny bathroom

kekeyw · 5 months

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chateau mansion | cc build

hi everyone, you may have seen screenshots of this build months ago and i've been slowly finishing it until now!

it is now up for download featuring 5 bedrooms, 4 bathrooms, large backyard that can be customisable to your tastes and needs!

gallery id: kekeyw

packs used: get together, cottage living, growing together, island living, vampies, laundry day, little campers

watch video here

download tray files here

reshade by @bojanastarcevic

cc list below the cut

amelie - light & airy paintings, ralph lauren sweaters, vintage art print #2,3 4

awingedllama - boho living, paranormal plants, blooming room plants

charlypancakes - lighthouse, dinna, lavish, precious promises

felixandre - all

harrie - all

house of harlix - bafroom, baysic bathroom, baysic, harluxe, livin'rum, jardane, orjanic (all), kichen, tiny twavellers

little dica - delicato, chic bathroom, eco kitchen, rise&grind

max20 - cozy bathroom, master bedroom

mr olkan - cool pools

mycupofcc - bath collection, tiny dreamers

myshunosun - nora living, arrie office, dawn living

peacemaker - moderondack, colour me rugs, matilda mudroom, creta kitchen

pierisim - all

ravasheen - sip sip hooray

sforzinda - artworks

sixamcc - home improvement, private school, small spaces - laundry room, stylish wood living room

syboulette - life livingroom, laundry, shopping

taurusdesign - angela bedroom

the clutter cat - fairylicious, baby boo pt1, busy bee, dandy diary bathroom, dandy diary pt2, hello horses, mellow mini, mellow moods

tuds - 2nd wave, beam, nctr, shkr

thank you to all the cc creators: @pixelglam @harrie-cc @awingedllama @felixandresims @charlypancakes @littledica @maxsus @mycupofcc @myshunosun @pierisim @ravasheencc @sixamcc @syboubou @taurusdesign @thecluttercat @tudtuds @peacemaker-ic

#the sims 4 #simblr #sims 4 cc #sims 4 #sims 4 maxis match #sims 4 build #ts4 #ts4 builds #ts4 build #ts4cc #chateau #builds #sims 4 screenshots #the sims community #ts4 simblr #sims 4 builder #sims 4 builds

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colormepurplex2 · 9 days

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Shatter With Me | Waving The White Flag

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

Next Chapter⇾ (coming soon) ◅ Back to story masterlist

Jungkook

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

💔💔💔

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s, uh…”

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

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

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

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

“Isn’t that right?” he asks.

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

“You’re healthy.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’d do it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Um, no. You know I don’t—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hm? Who?”

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

You shrug. “I wasn’t staring.”

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

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

💔💔💔

Jungkook

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

💔💔💔

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hello?” Jungkook answers on the second ring.

“Jungkook.”

“Oh, hey. Everything okay?”

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

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

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

“Why? What’s up?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi,” he breathes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Seems pretty simple, right?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I understand.”

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

“Yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I think so.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

💔💔💔

Jungkook

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi, guys.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I love you, too, Jungkook.”

💔💔💔

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

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

“Yes?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

💔💔💔

Jungkook

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

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

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

“You missed it.”

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

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

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

“She? It could be a boy.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, is everything okay?”

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

“I’m on my way!”

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

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

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

“O-okay.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod. “Yeah.”

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

“Do you want me to find a wheelchair?”

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

“Yeah.”

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

“I can come?” he wonders, hopeful.

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

“Oh, she’s not—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Kinda weird, huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That would be great, thanks.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is everything okay?”

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

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

“Where have you been?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It doesn’t work.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That is not what happened at all!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Next Chapter⇾ (coming soon) ◅ Back to story masterlist

◅ Back to Main Master List ©️ 2024-02-13 ColorMePurplex2

#jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #dilf jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook imagines #bts smut #bts angst #jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #bts imagines #bangtanwhq #btsfests

957 notes · View notes

yanderestarangel · 7 months

Text

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐊𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐌𝐊1 | "𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐁𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐎 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐀 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐈𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐈 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐖𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐔𝐓."

TW: afab anatomy, no pronouns used other than 'you', smut, nsfw, rough sex, pet names, degradation.

CONTEXT: You two were at a yacht party

⋆༶⋆ SYZOTH ⋆༶⋆

You would call him into the cabin, as he would be outside at the door waiting for you, then he would come in and see the size of your bikini, your breasts jutting out to the sides and your pussy practically showing, he would smile a little, but then he would think that It wasn't just you who were there but your friends too, he would ask if you had done it on purpose with a serious face but Syzoth would soon see that you were also surprised, you would soon say that you bought the set online and didn't pay attention to the size, the man would already be hard there, however he would try to find a way, taking one of his shirts and giving it to you, but don't worry, he would fuck you as soon as everyone was too busy to notice the disappearance of you two and he would soon finish with you with your panties aside and riding on Syzoth's face while the big boy used his tongue and fingers on you and with the other hand he grabbed your breasts outside of your bikini, jumping while you sat on his tongue looking at the sea scenery on yours front.

⋆༶⋆ JOHNNY CAGE ⋆༶⋆

He would enter the room between you two quickly taking off his shirt and seeing you in front of the mirror, Johnny's eyes would soon go to your breasts bouncing out of the small bikini and as the flesh of your pussy was pressed against the fabric of the panties, he would drool at the vision coming towards you while kissing you, the man would praise you a lot saying how lucky he is to have a boyfriend/girlfriend like you, while kissing your neck, but he would soon remember where you would be, he would still look at the two of you in the mirror smiling and seeing your desperate face, Johnny would say that you looked beautiful but it was very uncomfortable to be practically naked in the middle of strangers, you would soon say that you didn't do it on purpose and try to justify yourself, but he would cut you off saying that he felt very good and that everything was fine, he would help you look for shorts that would cover your bottoms and give you one of his white shirts so you and him could stay together in the yacht lobby while you were on his lap, laughing and drinking. Johnny Cage would end the perfect night by fucking you wearing the tiny bikini, watching the moonlight reflect on your dripping pussy, putting the fabric aside and fucking you with all his might.

⋆༶⋆ BI HAN ⋆༶⋆

He would still be in the room and you would be in the bathroom, Bi Han didn't even want to be there, but at Kuai and Tomas' insistence - and at your insistence too, he can't say no to you - he went. The grand master watched on the TV built into the two of you's bedroom, but soon he would hear your voice, a little different than usual and he knew something was wrong, he quickly went to the bathroom, seeing you look at your breasts popping out of your bikini and your pussy tight in your panties, the big man would look at you with all the desire in the world but he would soon remember why you were dressed like that, changing to possession and jealousy, he would ask a little authoritatively if you were trying to show yourself to someone there and then he would grab your ass squeezing the flesh tightly between your fingers, you would tell him why, immediately making the man silence you with a kiss, pressing the erection of his pants on your belly, he knew you were telling the truth, but he couldn't miss the opportunity of punishing you with all his might by bending you over the bathroom sink, while hitting his dick against your ass, rubbing his dick on your smooth folds, then pushing his dick with all his strength inside you, holding your chin, forcing you to look at your reflection in the mirror, calling you a "hot, tight little slut." or "good boy/girl with delicious pussy."

©YANDERESTARANGEL 2023

2K notes · View notes

fanficimagery · 3 months

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Violent Little Thing

To the Sons of Anarchy, you're just Happy's neighbor that doesn't care for drama or the fact that they wear kuttes. But in actuality, you've dealt and probably have done far worse, and it isn't until you're kidnapped that they find out your secret.

Author's Note: Long time no see, huh? Does this mean I'm back? Hell no. This has been sitting in my drafts since mid-2023 and thought it was time to go out. For never having seen more than a few episodes, I love these SOA boys. I'm not super familiar with the lingo or clubhouse etiquette, so this is gonna take place away from that particular setting. Trigger warning for graphic violence and attempted sexual assault (it doesn't get far). Reader is gonna be a little… off the rails. Blame all the dark romance I've been reading lmao.

Before moving into your new home, you knew it was going to be a fixer upper. Fortunately for you, you loved working with your hands, and after having been banished to Charming in hopes of calming your inner demons, you were going to have a lot of time to do just that. But the joke was on your family because there was no calming your demons. People just needed to learn to not piss you the fuck off.

When you get to the house, however, you see that a majority of the work has already been done for you. The only thing left for you to do is paint the walls, rearrange furniture, and unbox your belongings. The electricity and water are already turned on, and wifi has been installed with your password on a sticky note.

The master bedroom is huge and you love it, but you don't have nearly enough belongings to fill it. Your queen-sized bed looks tiny and you immediately want something bigger. So heading back outside to your vehicle, you grab your bag that has your laptop inside and head back in. Setting up at your kitchen island, you search for a place that will deliver any type of food and beverage. You find a pizzeria just on the outskirts of town that will deliver to Charming, so you place a quick order. It's a forty minute wait period, so to pass the time you start looking up bedroom ideas.

You run across a California king bed, but none really catch your eye. What does catch your eye, however, are the DIY beds that touch from one side of the wall to the other. You take your laptop back to your bedroom so see if it's do-able, and come to the conclusion that it is. You'll have to add some floating shelves since you won't be able to have bedside tables, but that's perfectly fine with you. You then take the time to get down the measurements of your room because you still have to situate your dresser and mount your TV to the wall, and you need to make sure everything will fit.

Eventually your food gets there and, sitting at the kitchen island, you dig in. You slowly eat and drink your fill, and then place any leftovers in the already cool refrigerator.

Needing some bathroom necessities and sheets for your current bed, you unload your vehicle. You place each box in their respective rooms, but leave them mostly boxed up. And not wanting to get any TV's mounted or bed fully put together since you still have to paint the walls, you remain on your laptop to pass the time and send messages to your family to let them know you're okay.

It takes you a couple of weeks to build your bed frame, get in your special ordered mattress, and paint the walls to your liking. You do most of your building in the driveway, so you've become accustomed to the people living on your street, waving at them as they pass or call out a greeting. But there's one individual everyone seems to steer clear of or avoid eye contact with, and that's your next door neighbor who rides a motorcycle and proudly wears a Sons of Anarchy kutte.

You had first seen the intimidating, bald man when he showed up a couple days after you moved in. You'd looked up when you heard the rumblings of engines and watched two motorcycles pull into the driveway next door. You paused hammering for a moment, nodded at the two men who took a moment to stare back, and then went back to work.

Over the next few days, men came and went from next door. And each time, they were intrigued watching you work. But eventually your bed frame was finished and you had to situate it in your bedroom. Maneuvering the mattress was no easy feat, but you were not about to ask for help, and it didn't take you long to finally finish furnishing your home to your liking.

As busy as you've been, you haven't really had the time to eat a home cooked meal. So after everything, you took a trip to the grocery store and bought hundreds of dollars of food and drink to stock your kitchen with.

The air is finally cool and crisp, so all the windows to your home are wide open. You'd been feeling a little restless, so you opted to cook a meal that would keep you busy. Enchiladas, rice, and beans is one of your favorite meals, so after making sure you have everything, you put a pot of beans to cook. They have to cook for a few hours, so while that's going on you get online to check in with your family.

When the beans are done, you get started on browning hamburger meat. Setting a majority of the meat aside, you use only a bit for the enchilada sauce. You pour in water, flour, spices, and some canned chili until it's to your liking, and then heat up some corn tortillas before you start rolling the enchiladas. After they're in a pan that holds far too many for only you, you pour the enchilada sauce on top before shredding some cheese atop of it. Once that's in the oven, you get started on a pan of rice.

It's when the rice is boiling that your doorbell rings. A little tired and more than a little hungry, you grab up your beer after turning off the rice, and take a swig of it on your way to the door. Since the door is wide open, you can easily see who's standing just on the other side of the screen door. It's one of the Sons, one of the only two with brown skin that you've seen so far. But this isn't the intimidating bald one, this is the one with a shaved mohawk down the center of his head and a killer smile.

You arch an eyebrow at him as he tucks his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and you take another swig of beer as you lean against the door jamb. "Yes?"

The corner of his eyes crinkle as his smile widens. "Hi. Uh, me and my boys are chilling next door and we couldn't help but smell whatever it is you're eating. You mind sharing the name of the place where you picked up your food from so we can go get some too? Smells really good."

Your lips twitch. "Who said I picked anything up?"

"You cooking?" His eyes widen. "Bullshit."

You huff a laugh and nod. "YN."

"Juice."

"Mhmm." You push the door open just enough so you can lean out and peer next door, catching sight of two men sitting sideways on the seats of their bike. "Just you three?"

"Yeah."

You hum again and then back into your home as the screen door shuts quietly. "I've been watching you guys come and go, nodding cordially when our gazes clash," you say. "If you're willing to leave your shoes by the front door, you're more than welcome to pull up a seat at the table."

"Forreal?"

"Sure." You shrug. "I never learned how to cook for one, so I might have made an entire tray of enchiladas that will most likely go to waste if someone else doesn't eat them."

"Oh hell yeah." Juice turns, cupping his hands around his mouth as he says, "Yo! Free meal! Get over here!"

You watch as one man eagerly gets off his bike, whooping in delight of free food. The other, the one you believe actually lives next door, casually gets up at a leisurely pace. You push open the screen door as they're stomping up your porch steps, and Juice introduces you to Tig and Happy. You do your best not to smile because Happy does not look quite so happy, but he grunts a greeting when you tell them your name.

As Juice steps into your home, he's quick to kick off his shoes and tell his boys to do the same. They do and then you lead the way to the kitchen, pointing at your table. "Siéntate."

"Ohhh. A Spanish lady," Tig muses as Juice translates for him to sit down as you instructed. When you glance at him, his wild-crazed gaze makes you snort. "I like 'em a little spicy."

"And I like 'em less talkative." Happy and Juice both snort, and Tig beams at your sassy retort. "Beer or soda?"

Tig and Happy take beers, and Juice takes a soda. You serve them each their own plate of three enchiladas, a scoop of rice, and a scoop of beans. You serve yourself last with a glass of water, and finally take a seat to dig into all your hard work.

"Goddamn," Tig grumbles after his first bite of everything. "This is some Mexican restaurant level shit here."

You grin as you eat at your own pace, feeling content at watching three grown men finding your cooking delicious.

"So what's your story?" Juice asks. "In all the times I've come around, it's just you here."

"That's because it is just me here."

"Why Charming?"

You take a moment to swallow your food, washing it all down with a sip of water as you lean back in your chair. Then glancing between each man and the patches on their kuttes, you ask, "Do you want the real story or the story I'm feeding anyone who asks in polite small talk when they see a new face in the store?"

All three men slow their eating, their gazes sliding up to you in surprise.

"What's the story you tellin' the locals?" Tig asks.

Placing a hand over your heart and changing your voice so you sound like a southern belle, you say, "Just that I just left a very nasty relationship and my family thought I deserved a fresh start away from the man who dared lift a fist in my direction."

Tig snorts. "And the real story?"

You chuckle as your voice goes back to normal. "My family thought I needed to calm my inner demons, so they banished me to Charming. Joke's on them, I've made peace with my demons. It's not my fault people keep pissing me off."

Tig and Juice laugh as Happy smirks at you.

"What'd you do to earn banishment?" Juice wonders.

You shrug. "I wasn't joking about the nasty relationship. I just leave out the small detail that once I was out of the hospital, I went crawling back to my dickhead of an ex-fiancé and plotted my revenge."

"Crazy and you can cook. Marry me," Tig says.

You shake your head at him, eating a bit more before finishing the story. "I was raised to take no shit from anyone. So after he put me in the hospital, I made him believe all was well. Then one night, when he least suspected it, I slipped him a little something so he was conscious, but paralyzed, and set fire to his house."

The three men freeze, but you continue eating as if it was no big deal.

"Did you- did you kill him?" Juice warily asks.

"Unfortunately, no." You pout and then laugh at their awed expressions. "He had nosy neighbors so they were able to get the firetrucks there as soon as they smelled smoke. But when my family found out, they said I was sloppy, so I got shipped out here."

"Yoo.. what the fuck?" A moment of quiet ensues and then Juice is laughing. "That has to be the craziest shit I've heard in a while."

"I highly doubt that." Your gaze drops to the patch on his kutte. "I'm sure you've heard, seen, or taken part of some pretty crazy shit." When you meet his gaze again, you smirk. "Am I wrong?"

Juice grins and then looks at Happy. "Your neighbor is cool as shit. I'm kind of jealous." The air of amusement lingers as everyone continues to eat. "So what do you do for work?"

"I do some IT stuff for my family." You shrug. "I can work from anywhere, so I guess I'll still be doing that. What about you boys? What do you do other than ride?"

"We work at Teller Automotive," Tig says. "Only car garage in town."

"Really? Do you guys have any openings this week? I need my oil changed."

"Sure. We'll leave a number before we leave."

The rest of dinner is spent with the men telling you what there is to do in Charming and asking how long you plan on staying. You're not really sure, but if you end up liking Charming then you have no issues setting down roots. And then when dinner is done and you've seemed to exhaust all the small talk topics, you plate up the leftovers and send the men on their way.

Over the next couple of weeks, you befriend your neighbor. You take your vehicle into Teller Automotive and Happy takes it upon himself to take care of it for you. Tig and Juice had kept you company, and introduced you to a few of their other brothers when they took interest in their new friend. You were invited to one of their parties and, after some pressuring, you went. Nothing shocked you, not even a few members of the club getting head in plain sight, but Happy apparently shocked everyone else by gluing himself to your side. According to the club President, Happy was normally found in the ring outside or fucking his way through croweaters, but that night he made sure that no one bothered you.

Then more often than not, Happy reaped the benefits of your cooking and appeared for dinner before taking leftovers home for lunch.

In such a short period of time, you grow accustomed to the stern biker's company.

One morning, you're startled awake by the doorbell ringing and a fist pounding on the door. You sit up and scoot out of bed, hurrying towards your front door in a groggy, yet panicked state. But before you pull the door open, you peer out one of the thin windows on one side of your door. It takes a moment for you to realize it's Happy and that the sky behind him is still dark.

Unlocking the door, you pull it open. "What the fuck, Hap? What's going on?"

With a duffel bag hanging off his shoulder, Happy looks you up and down. "You always answer the door like this or am I just special?"

You freeze and then glance down, rolling your eyes when you remember you went to sleep in a gray wife beater, that makes it very obvious you're not wearing a bra, and a pair of hipster underwear. "Neither. You're lucky."

"Sure." You narrow your eyes at him and he smirks. "I forgot the bills were due and everything got shut off. Can I crash here until I get it sorted?"

Without missing a beat, you say, "Yeah," and step back from the door, opening it wider. "Shoes off. You know where the bathroom is and I'm pretty sure you can find the guest bedroom." You yawn and lock the door behind your friend. "What time is it?"

"Little after five."

"Happy," you whine. "S'too fuckin' early. M'going back to bed." As you pad back to your room, you don't hear any footsteps behind you. "Stop staring at my ass!"

"Can't help it. Might start dropping by early now."

"Do it and die, Lowman." Stopping and turning, you point an accusatory finger at him. "Do not come in between me and my bed. I will murder you."

His lips twitch. "Worth it."

. .

It takes less than a week for Happy to get his power and water turned back on, and then he's back at his house. Though there are times when he shows up for dinner, dropping off on your couch when he's too tired to walk back home. Normally you would mind, but Happy knew how to clean up after himself, so you didn't mind that it seemed he was practically half moved in.

One night, you get a call from your brother that they need you to come in and work on cracking the passwords on a few laptops they'd gotten their hands on. You agreed, but first you needed to arrange someone to look after your house.

The next afternoon, you show up to Teller Automotive. You find Happy on a smoke break and ask him for a favor. When you ask him if he can keep an eye on your house for two days, he seems surprised, even more so when you give him a copy of your house key. You tell him he can crash there and eat whatever food you have so long as he doesn't trash the place. He readily agrees.

And when you return two days later, you realize you should have specified that he could crash in the guest bedroom. Finding a nearly naked Happy in your bed isn't half bad, nor is the firmness of his ass when you smack a hand down on it to wake him up.

Immediately he jerks awake, twisting his body as he sits up, and pointing a gun right at your face. You laugh and lick the tip of the barrel while wiggling your eyebrows at him. "Wakey, wakey."

"You're a fuckin' pyscho," he grumbles, lowering his gun.

"Yeah, well duh. You should have had that figured out a long time ago." He rolls his eyes before turning to drop down face first back into your pillow, shoving his gun back under it. You grin. "Was there something wrong with the guest room you've been using?"

"No. I just didn't know how fuckin' massive your bed was. It looked lonely without a body in it."

"Mhmm. I'm sure." He grunts and you chuckle as you crawl out of the bed. "I'm gonna go pick up some breakfast from the diner. Want anything?"

"Anything and everything."

"Gotcha. I'll text you when I'm on my way back."

. .

The dynamic between you and Happy ended up changing after that fateful morning. When he slept over, it was in your bed. You hadn't crossed the line past lingering touches or innuendos, but it was a given that he was the only person allowed in your bed. You didn't care for the croweaters at the parties his club put on every Friday night, but the two of you made a statement when he rolled up one night with you seated behind him.

The Sons nearly gaped as Happy amped up his protectiveness, pulling you between his parted thighs as he took a seat on a stool at the bar. Tig and Juice had walked over, and Happy perched you on his knee as you joked with his brothers. The croweaters didn't bother to hide their glares or sneers, but you merely smirked at their cattiness and took to scratching the back of Happy's head with your nails when you'd draped your arm around his shoulders.

"So, is this a thing?" Jax, the club president, had asked.

You shrugged and grinned. "We're friends."

"Friends don't stake claims."

"We're possessive friends."

Happy had snorted but didn't correct you.

From there on out, it was known that you were Happy's.

The Sons are relaxing at the clubhouse after a long day's work when blacked out Escalades and BMW's pull up. The atmosphere immediately goes from relaxed to tense, and the Sons flank their President when he walks out to the lot to see what the deal is.

Thug after thug exit the vehicles before opening the doors on two Escalades, ushering out four well-dressed men. None of them look like they'd be a person to fuck with, so Jax is extremely curious as to what the fuck is going on.

"Can I help you?" He asks, eyebrow arches as tattooed thugs flank the apparent important men.

"I hope you can." The one in charge reaches into his coat pocket, pulling out a picture. "What do you know about this woman?"

When Jax is shown a picture, he mentally curses. It's Happy's neighbor and a friend to many Sons. He keeps his expression neutral, before shrugging. "Nothing. Should I?"

"She's my baby sister."

"Oh hell…"

"YN never misses check-in and she's missed two," the man explains. "It's come to my attention that she's made some connections to Happy Lowman, Juan Ortiz, and Tig Trager- all Sons of Anarchy. Do you understand why I'm here now?"

"Fuck, man, we didn't know. What can we do?"

"You can start by questioning your men to see if they'd heard from her."

At that, Tig steps forward. "I haven't seen or spoken with YN in a little over a week."

"What about Juan or Happy?"

Jax looks at his gathered men, frowning. "Where are Juice and Happy?" No one says anything, looking as confused as their President when they don't see their familiar faces. Then raising his voice, he asks, "Has anyone heard from Happy or Juice today?" Nothing. No one utters a peep. "What about yesterday?"

"Jax." Opie has his phone to ear, shaking his head. "Both are going to voicemail."

"Shit." Then turning around to face the slowly darkening expressions of YN's apparent brothers, Jax asks, "How can we help?"

. .

When your eyes flutter open, every inch of your body is in pain.

"How the fuck does my hair hurt?" You groan. You try to sit up, but realize you're on your side, on dirt and hay, with your hands tied behind your back. "What the actual fuck?" Clearing your vision, you see that you're not alone. Happy and Juice are with you, but they're in chairs with their hands tied behind their backs and looking a little beat up.

"Welcome back, Sleeping Beauty," Juice tiredly muses.

"What happened?" Maneuvering around some, you manage to sit up.

"Kidnapped," Happy says. "They injected us with some shit, but they gave you too much."

You grimace as you roll your neck. "Dicks." It's dim in the empty barn you're being kept in, but you can see sunlight through the cracks of the walls. There are stalls for animals on either side of you, all empty, and a table filled with various blades and weapons not too far away. Your aching arms are your main priority though, so you move into a crouch and wiggle your tied wrists under your butt. With a grunt, you fall backward and maneuver your hands until they're situated in front of you. "Ah. That's better."

"Get up and grab a blade so we can get the fuck outta here," Happy urges.

You do as you're told, mentally scoffing at the thought that these morons didn't think to bind your ankles. Unfortunately, you're not so lucky as someone had been watching from the shadows. So just as you're reaching for a blade, that someone jumps out at you and roughly pins you against the table.

Bent over with your arms above your head and someone pressed up right against you, you immediately start thrashing and cussing out whoever it is. Happy and Juice shout, and start wriggling in their own seats when a hand then pins you to the table by the back of your neck.

"So close, princesa." A man tuts and you jerk in his hold, but still he persists. Laughter causes you to look up, watching as another two men step out from behind Happy and Juice. "Is that anyway to talk to your host?"

"Fuck. Off."

"Oh, I will." Just then, a hand grips your waist and squeezes, and you freeze. "Just not yet. I have some questions for you."

"Don't you fucking touch her."

When you glance up at Happy, there's a look on his face that you've never seen before. You know what he does for the Sons, but you'd never seen that particular dark look or glint in his eyes, and for a moment it steals your breath away. Then you remember that look isn't meant for you, and you squirm a little as the man behind you laughingly presses his pelvis into your ass. "Or what?"

Juice answers, "Or we'll fucking kill you."

That causes all three men to laugh some more.

"Doubtful. But thanks for the laugh." Then the man behind you focuses on you once again. "Besides, my business isn't with you, but with the princesa de la mafia."

You tense. "I don't know anything."

"Aw. Of course, you don't," the man coos. "I would hope that your brothers are smart enough to never let a woman in on their secrets. But then again, you are the baby sister of one of the most dangerous mafias in the United States. I'm pretty sure you know something that I can use to hurt those brothers of yours."

You manage to angle your head just enough so you can make eye contact with Happy. He meets your stare, and you see it subtly soften, but then he's glaring at the man holding you once more. "I won't sell out my brothers."

"No?" The man releases your neck, only to trail his fingers down from your ribs to hips. "I don't want to mess up such a pretty face, but you do know there are other ways to break you and get you to talk, right?"

And then before you can answer, he's grabbing the back hem of your shirt and ripping it down the middle.

You yelp just as Happy shouts, "You motherfucker!", and squirm to get away. Across from you, Happy and Juice are pummeled a few times until they stop trying to break the chairs they're bound to.

The man rubs a hand up and down your back, fiddling with your bra strap, but never unsnapping it. You feel gross, but it's only when the guy reaches around to fiddle with the button on your jeans does red cloud your vision.

"Hey, Hap?" You manage to meet Happy's livid gaze. "Remember when I spoke about my demons?"

"Yeah."

"They desperately wanna come out to play."

"Shut the fuck up, you whore!" The man slaps you across the back of your head and you grit your teeth, biding your time.

Happy slowly smirks. "Then let them out to play, baby."

The moment the button on your jeans is opened, you scream at a pitch that startles every man in the room. Then pushing up as much as you can, you headbutt the man behind you. As he swears, you reach for the first handle you see and are pleasantly surprised to find a small machete. Then without even thinking, you whirl around and swing the blade, catching your would-be abuser in the neck with the blade.

Blood sprays as you immediately tug the blade free, leaving the man to try and cover his wound as he splutters on his own life force. From the corner of your eye, you see someone running at you, but another swing of the machete finds a home in the second man's face.

As the man falls back with a scream unlike anything you've ever heard, he takes the machete with him. Happy and Juice shout at you, and it's then you remember the third. He's running at you, a small blade in hand, and you reach for the nearest weapon. It's a metal bat and just as you rear back to swing, he swings first. The blade makes contact with your bicep, slicing it open, but you only feel the sting of it after you swing.

The bat clips the man in the jaw, stunning him. As he stumbles back, you advance. He sloppily swipes at you again, but you dodge it. The second hit with the bat hits true, catching him in the temple.

The man falls and you're quick to stand over him, bringing the bat down a third time.

The bat connecting for a fourth time makes Juice cringe, but Happy proudly watches on.

Thwack.

Thwack. A scream.

Crack!

"Shit. I think that was his skull," Juice mutters.

YN screams as she continues to wail on the man with her bat, caving his skull further and further in, to the point there's now a puddle of blood beneath his head and splattering with every pull back.

The barn doors open, and Happy and Juice tense when armed men start to file in, but they exhale with relief when they see Jax, Tig, Chibs, and Opie in the mix. All the unfamiliar men take in the scene with an air of indifference, but it's the expressions of the Sons that almost make Happy laugh out loud. They'd only known YN to laugh, feed them, or threaten the croweaters with violence. None of them, with the exception of himself, Juice, and Tig, knew the violence she was capable of.

"Uh, a little help?" Juice calls out. "My arms are killing me over here."

Tig rushes over, pulling out a blade to cut his brothers free. "What the fuck happened?"

"One of them threatened to rape her and she just lost her shit."

Juice is cut free first, and he immediately stands, rubbing his raw wrists. As Jax checks in with him, Happy is cut free.

"Boss, should we stop this?" Someone asks.

Happy looks over in time to see a guy in a suit grimace when blood is flung onto his pristine boots. "Do you want to get in the middle of that? You know how YN is. Let's just let her run out of steam."

As the guy steps back in line with a nod of agreement, Happy huffs and stands. He stalks over to YN until he's behind her. Then when she raises the bat high above her head, Happy lunges. He manages to grip the bat where it isn't slick and pulls it from YN's grasp.

Still very much livid, especially now that your weapon's been ripped from you, you whirl around to start screaming expletives and pummel whoever it is with your bound fists. Instead, arms are wrapped around you, keeping your arms stuck between your chest and another, and there's a gruff voice in your ear saying, "It's over. It's over, baby. The cavalry's here. You can stop now."

It takes a long minute for the voice to infiltrate the fog of rage, and then a moment to realize who's speaking.

When your struggles cease, Happy leans back a little to look down at you, but with his arms still wrapped around you. "You back?"

"Y-Yeah. M'sorry."

Happy grunts and leans his face closer to yours, and for a moment you think he's about to kiss you. Instead, he presses his forehead against yours as his eyes close, and he exhales with relief. "Don't be. That was hot as fuck."

You huff a quiet laugh as a bout of silence ensues, but then one of your brothers decides to ruin it.

"Hey, Lowman, we'll give you a million dollars if you give her your last name and take her off our hands."

You jerk in Happy's hold, turning to glare at all your smirking brothers. "Fuck off!" Laughter ensues at your disgruntled expression before Juice fills them in on what happened, and then Happy is tugging on your bound wrists so you look back at him before finally cutting you free. "Thank you."

One hand grasps the hair at the back of your head, gripping a little tight as he holds you in place so he can press a kiss to your forehead. "Let's get you home. You're covered in blood, and I need to take a look at your arm."

Glancing at your arm, you shrug. It stings, yeah, but it doesn't seem deep enough. And then just as you go to take a step, Happy swoops you up into a bridal carry.

It's then you notice that you, Happy, and Juice are all barefoot, and it's Juice who answers your unasked question. "You sleep like the dead, girl. Happy and I heard them enter the house, but they still managed to get the drop on us."

"I'm getting you a goddamn dog," Happy grumbles in response.

"Only if you clean up after it." He grunts and you grin. If he wanted a guard dog for you, then he was cleaning up any messes.

Outside the barn, suggestions are made about where to go now. Jax suggests the clubhouse, but at the wrinkling of your nose, Happy says you'll be going home. Your brothers mention not everyone can go because that many vehicles will draw attention, so Jax suggests sending your brothers' men back to the club with Opie and Chibs. They agree, and then you're loaded up into an Escalade with your brothers and Happy.

When you get to your house, Tig mentions that they had cleaned up and straightened your furniture after they figured out what had happened. You thank him and let Happy carry you to your bathroom while Juice takes the guest bathroom.

As Happy sets you on the counter, you watch as he gets the first aid kit from beneath your sinks. "They're gonna talk."

"Let them. The club already thinks we're fuckin'."

You snort. "Please. They should know by now that I'd never settle for a relationship where the guy gets to fuck around when he's on the road." Happy freezes with the antiseptic spray bottle in his hand before shaking himself free of thought and spritzing your arm where you were cut.

"Is that why you haven't given me the go-ahead to slip between your thighs?"

You smile at his blunt question and then wince when he wipes your arm clean. "Pretty much. I'm not a fan of my partner sticking his dick or tongue in some rando pussy, then coming home and doing the same to me." Happy grunts and you arch an eyebrow at him. "Would you be okay with me visiting my brothers and sucking someone's dick before coming home to you?"

"Fuck no."

"Exactly." You grin triumphantly. "So, unless you plan to stop dicking down croweaters or sweetbutts, the most you'll get out of me is some cuddling."

Stepping back, Happy tosses the used gauze pads into the trashcan and then reaches into your shower stall to turn on the water. Then looking at you, he demands, "Strip."

"If I fully strip, there's no going back. You're mine and mine alone." You hop off the counter, slipping off your ruined shirt without batting an eye. "I was calm and collected at your parties before because we're friends, but that all changes after this. I won't take it easy on any woman touching what's mine."

Happy smirks as he eyes you in your bra and jeans, and then strips off his shirt. "Good."

You've seen the man shirtless only a handful of times, but seeing his ink never fails to give you pause. You reach out for the first time, tracing the snake tattoo that takes up a majority of his chest and upper abdomen, before you trace the various happy faces on the side of his waist. You feel his abdominal muscles twitch and then between one heartbeat and the next, Happy's crowding you against the sink counter and angling your head up.

His kiss is as aggressive as you figured it'd be, his tongue sliding against yours and teeth digging into your bottom lip. You give as good as you get, nails digging into either side of Happy's waist as you kiss him. Then when the need for air arises, you pull back and try to catch your breath. "Well okay then."

Moving out from Happy's reach, you strip, uncaring of your nudity and then step into the steaming shower. Happy isn't too far behind you, but you're not too interested in seeing him fully naked as you are cleansing a stranger's blood from your body. Standing under the waterfall, you watch as the shower floor turns red. Happy presses in close behind you so he's under the water as well, and you straighten up before leaning your head back onto his shoulder, smiling softly at his hardness that presses against your ass.

"No funny business, Lowman. At least not until we've eaten a fuck ton and slept for a day or two."

He grunts. "Agreed."

You immediately start washing your hair, and you're surprised when Happy takes it upon himself to lather up some soap on your bath pouf to wash your body. For the most part he behaves himself, but when his thumb oh so casually brushes over your nipples, you slap his thigh and pay him back when it's your turn to wash him. He grunts when you take his dick in hand and thrusts into your soapy palm, but you quickly release him to finish washing his body.

"Fuckin' tease."

"You started it."

You get out of the shower first, smirking as Happy tells you he'll be out in a moment. You know exactly what that moment's going to entail since his hand is already stroking his cock before you can even find a towel.

"You gonna want something to eat?"

"Send Tig to get burgers and fries."

"Alright."

Back in your room, you can hear a muttered conversation from somewhere in your house. Clutching the towel around your body, you stick your head out your door. "Tig!"

"What?"

"Happy said to go get us some burgers, fries, and Cokes!"

"Do I look like a fuckin' maid?!" Tig appears in the hall, hands on his hips.

You grin at him. "No, but I do have a maid's costume. Wanna try it on?" Tig gapes and you laugh at his expression. "Come on, Tig. Please? You can grab some cash from the junk drawer."

"Fine. But only because I know Hap will murder me if I don't, not because I'm picturing you in a teeny tiny maid's outfit."

"Sure, buddy. Thank you!"

Tig grumbles as he turns to march out of your house and then you worry about getting dressed. You dress in nothing but a sports bra and boy short underwear, and then with a reluctant sigh you head to the front. Everyone's in your kitchen, sitting around your table, and your brothers groan when they see how little you're wearing.

"Oh, shut up. You've seen me in clothes like this before."

"In tights, not underwear," one brother grumbles.

"Just be glad they're boy shorts and not a g-string."

All your brothers groan yet again whereas the Sons find the interaction amusing. You take a seat at the table, grimacing a little and touching at your raw wrists.

"Let me get that for you," Juice says. He leaves to, no doubt, grab the first aid kit from the bathroom. Then taking a seat next to you, he asks, "Did Hap disinfect your arm?"

"Yeah. Just spritz it again and wrap it. It'll be fine."

As soon as Juice gets to work, Happy enters the kitchen in nothing but a pair of jeans hanging off his hips.

"Jesus," one of your brother's mumbles. "Are people suddenly allergic to clothes around here?"

You grin as Jax arches an eyebrow at his friend. "You have clothes here?" Happy nods and sits, and you quickly introduce him to your brothers while Jax looks at Juice to say, "You seem to know your way around this place too."

"It's because they practically live here when they're not at the clubhouse," you say. "Hap's moved his shit in my room, and Tig and Juice have slowly taken over my guest room." Then glancing at your brothers as if you didn't just drop somewhat of a bombshell on Jax, you ask, "So what the hell happened?"

Juice taps above one of your raw wrists and you situate them so he can disinfect them.

Your eldest brother meets your gaze. "There's a new family in town- Jimenez. They're trying to make a name for themselves and thought they could intimidate us." You scoff as your other brother's chuckle. "When they didn't get the reaction they were looking for, they came up with the bright idea to target the weak link. They thought they had the perfect candidate when they found out we had a baby sister."

"Joke's on them, you're fuckin' psycho," another brother muses.

"I'm not-"

"We literally walked in on you bashing a guy's head in."

"And let's not forget the whole reason you're in Charming is because you tried to burn down your ex's house while he was still inside."

"Or that one time you wrecked your car into that other girl's car all because she broke your friend's heart."

"That cunt cheated on him. She deserved every bit of karma I dished out."

Jax snorts, shaking his head. "Christ. You and Hap are gonna be a pain in my ass."

"You know it."

Tig shows up just after Juice is finished with your wrists. Juice then dishes out the food to you, Happy, and himself, and you get up to grab drinks from the fridge. As you settle back down, Jax and your brothers watch in surprise at how the three of you go to town on your provided meals.

"So, what exactly does one do as a mafia princess?" Jax wonders.

Chewing the food in your mouth, you only answer him after taking a drink of your soda. "I'm the family hacker. If they need a computer hacked into to gather information or scrub information, I get called in."

"So, in other words, you're female Juice," Tig says.

You laugh. "Yeah. Yeah, I am." Juice grins and you reach over to fist bump him.

You continue eating as Jax speaks with your brothers, listening as this small portion of the Sons of Anarchy are filled in about what business your family gets up to. When you're finished eating, you stand and start gathering up the trash to toss. While you're up, you grab yourself a glass of water and some Ibuprofen. Then after downing four pills, you head back to reclaim your seat at the table, only for Happy to gently grab you by the arm and tug you down onto his thigh.

Your brothers don't care about your new chair, but Jax, Juice, and Tig can't help but raise an eyebrow.

"So, is this a thing?" Jax wonders, gesturing between you and Happy.

As you drape an arm behind Happy's shoulders to settle more against him, you smirk. "What's the matter, Teller? Scared?"

He huffs and then stares at Happy, but the man beneath you merely says, "Gonna start drawing up a crow. Does that answer your question?"

The kitchen goes eerily quiet and then…

"Holy shit. Hap's actually gonna take a woman," Juice says in awe.

"This is a momentous occasion. We gotta throw a rager." The glint in Tig's eyes has you narrowing your own eyes at him.

"You just wanna see a girl fight. Don't you?"

"Hap's been possessive of you since you first showed up to the clubhouse, but now that you're staking a claim, the thought might have crossed my mind."

"Are you sure you wanna see that?" One of your brother muses. "YN might traumatize a few poor souls."

Tig smiles. "I look forward to it."

You roll your eyes at Tig's excitement about possibly seeing you fight and your brothers chuckle. The Sons really had no idea what they were in for when someone tested your patience.

Standing, you keep a hand on Happy's shoulder as you say, "Well as much as I love, like, and appreciate all of you, you need to go. I'm exhausted and I still need to sleep off whatever I was drugged with."

Jax grins. "Is that code for us to get the hell out so you can bang Happy's brains out?"

Snorting, you shake your head as your brothers all grimace. "No. I'm seriously exhausted. The fucking will come later after we're well rested. I have a feeling I'm gonna need loads of energy for Hap."

Your brothers all make noises of disgust as they stand, and you take a moment to hug and kiss each of their cheeks on their way out. You promise to call when you're feeling better and then you're ushering the Sons out as well.

Locking up after everyone has left, you head to your room where you find Happy stripping off his jeans. He's in nothing but a pair of boxer briefs as he pulls your blanket back before sliding under and you pad over to do the same. You meet him in the middle, laying on your side as you drape one arm over his abdomen. With your head on his arm, you snuggle closer and Happy reaches for your leg to have it draped over his thigh so you're as close as can be without actually laying on top of him.

"Were you serious? About the crow?" You ask right before you drift off.

"Does that freak you out?"

"Not really. But if I get your mark, you're getting mine."

Happy huffs. "And just what is your mark?"

"My lips and name." You run your hand across his abdomen before walking your fingers down to one of the few empty patches of skin, below his belly button and right beneath where the snake's tail curls. "Right here."

"Above my dick, you mean?"

"Mhmm."

Happy grunts and then squeezes you a little tighter to him. "We'll see, princess. Now get some sleep."

#happy lowman imagine #happy lowman x reader #happy imagine #happy x reader #sons of anarchy imagine #soa imagine #happy lowman #juice ortiz #tig trager #jax teller #dark romance

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astraysimp · 5 months

Text

Future Producer

◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ Hello, hello ,hello, my lovelies! I am back with the last edition of my personal dad!skz series, finishing off with a Bahng! ( I DO have another series planned)

ੈ♡˳Summary: Chan, ever the hardworking man he is, takes baby Bahng to the studio( or his in house studio).....um I think that’s it

ੈ♡˳Warnings: Dad! Cha, fem!reader, fluff fluff FLUFF, tiny baby and appa chan (he is no longer foive),pet names, playful teasing Chan about losing his hair , idk what else ੈ♡˳

✎ (❁ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈) ༉‧ ♡*.✧✎ (❁ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈) ༉‧ ♡*.✧✎ (❁ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈) ༉‧ ♡*.✧

You and Chan were adjusting to parenthood well. You loved it, and he did too. A baby Bahng– Haneul Rei Bahng– Chan’s proudest accomplishment. But, he missed the studio, which was why he had a studio built into your shared house.

That’s exactly where he was right now, with a tiny Haneul on his chest. At only 1 month old, she was already in the studio, though she just wanted to be with her appa. It was midafternoon, and you had woken up from a nap. Usually, you were met with Chan singing to Haneul or her crying……but, the house was quiet. Too quiet. Sitting up on your bed, you stretched and kicked your legs over the side of the bed, Chan and Haneul nowhere in sight. “Hm? Where are they?” You asked yourself, throwing one of Chan’s hoodies and slippers into a pair of slippers. You checked her nursery, no one was there. The master bathroom? Think again. So, you wandered downstairs, singing to yourself. “ Where is my Channieeeeee? And my princesssss?” You hummed.

The kitchen. Empty. The living room? Nope. The laundry room? Still, no luck.

So, you wandered to the basement. Where the main gathering area– for game nights and movie nights to be held with his bandmates– was empty. As was the basement bedroom and half bathroom. Smiling to yourself, you saw the door to his studio closed. Softly knocking, you peeked your head in– wanting to respect his space because his studio was his safe place(other than with you). “Channie? Bubs, you in here?” You asked, as you gently pushed the door open. He was,but he couldn’t hear you, and he was focused. Fingers clicking away on his soundboard, adjusting, rearranging and editing different sound clips. “Does that sound okay, Haneul?” You heard him whisper. She just gazed up at him, her cheek against his chest with a pacifier in her mouth. He chuckled, “Then again….you don’t know what these sounds are.” He giggled, kissing her forehead, before he adjusted her on his chest. Humming to himself, he went back to his work, writing down notes in the notebook on his desk. “Frick…..that doesn’t sound right,” he mumbled. “What if I……put it…….here.” He tapped his chin, eyes scanning over the screen, as he moved the clip to another spot and listened to the playback. “Aaaaah, yeah. Better better. Okay.” Haneul was growing sleepy, her afternoon nap time approaching. “Ooooh, is Princess Haneul tired,hhm?” He cooed, soothingly patting her back, humming a lullaby at her. “Somewhere over the rainbow.Way up high.There's a land that I heard of.Once in a lullaby,Somewhere over the rainbow.Skies are blue,” Chan sang, running a gentle finger over her cheek, as her eyes fluttered shut.

Deciding to step in, you smiled, walking over and kissing his cheek. “Hi, my love.” You whispered, sitting in your designated chair. Yes, you had a chair because you also spent a lot of time in the studio with Chan. Slightly jumping, he smiled and pressed a kiss to your lips. “Geez scared me, baby. Didn’t see you come in,” He giggled, eyes crinkling up. “Mhm, woke up from a nap to be met with an empty house,” You pouted , leaning your chin on his shoulder. “Sorry, darling. Had a song idea, and needed to get in here.” He chuckled, still patting Haneul’s back. Smiling you nodded, nuzzling into him. “Speaking of naps, is our baby girl asleep?” You asked, leaning down to press a soft kiss to the top of her head. Looking down to where she lay on his chest, Chan nodded. “Think so, oh she’s so cute.” He cooed, seeing his baby asleep on his chest.

You, too, have fallen asleep in the studio . Whether it was on his lap, on the small couch or in your chair. You looked at Haneul and smiled. “She reminds me of when you fall asleep in here,” he chuckled. “Your lips all pouty and your cheek squished against the couch or chair or my chest,” he cooed at you, pinching your cheek. “Yah, don’t blame me.It’s so cozy in here, smells like you and is so warm, plus you take so long.” You giggled, sticking your tongue out at him. Shaking his head, he booped your nose. “That’s how I feel about being in your arms, so warm and cozy and you smell so good, darling.” He smiled, pecking your lips before adjusting a now sleeping Haneul. “She’s so precious. Aw, look at her little cheeks,” you cooed, finger softly running over her cheek, her hand gripping Chan’s shirt. “She is, just like her mummy.” Cha smiled at you, saving the file to his computer , and turning to you.

“Do you think she’ll be a producer in the future, darling?”

Playfully, flicking his forehead you sighed. “No, I will not have my baby doll losing hair at the age of 25,” You pressed him. Pouting, he cuddled Haneul closer to him,”mummy is so mean, mentioning my hair, doll.” He whined, cuddling her to his chest. Giggling, you pinched his cheek. “I still love you, though, even if you are losing hair, Channie.”

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪Please don’t steal, claim, repost, modify, copy, translate or paraphrase my works, you will be blocked𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 AStraySimp2023𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

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#skz fluff #stray kids texts #stray kids fluff #seungmin fluff #lee know fluff #seungmin x reader #han jisung fluff #jeongin x reader #changbin fluff #bang chan #skz fanfic #dad!skz #dad!chan #skz fluffiness #skz soft thoughts #skz soft hours

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kyluff · 4 months

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— ↺ Baby Daddies

✎ gojo + geto + nanami + toji + choso x reader !

✦ summary ➠ some jjk men finding out they are going to be a daddy.

✦ warnings ➠ pregnancy (duh), swearing, mentions of sex

✦ note ➠ Also ps the gojo one is kinda cringe ngl but whatever kinda cute, my fave is the Nanami one I think.

✪ Satoru Gojo

— Gojo had been lounging around on your shared bed the whole day. It was one of his odd days off, so he chose to spend it being lazy.

As he was living carefree and innocently, you had just found out you were pregnant. Not that this should be a surprise.

Sure, your period being very late and the puking in the morning should’ve been enough of a sign that you were pregnant. But you didn’t actually think you were pregnant, pregnant.

But that was the reality you faced now in the bathroom of your master bedroom. You knew you couldn’t hide anything from your frost haired boyfriend for too long, so mays well fess up about it quickly.

You took the positive stick with you as you made your way to the room that was connected and that held Gojo. You weren’t too scared to tell him, because he always made it annoyingly obvious to you that he wanted a baby with you. Every minute he got he would make a comment about how nice it would be to have a child running around, how cute you’d look with your stomach swollen, how tiny baby clothes were and he told you how he envisioned his future child in them.

So no, you didn’t feel much fear. As for you thoughts on the predicament, you also had wanted a kid. Though you didn’t make your opinion as aware as he did, you still wanted to have one some day, and that day was this one it seemed.

You waltzed up to him, throwing the stick onto his exposed chest. “Looks like you got what you wanted.”

He threw a confused look your way. “Huh?” He let out the sound, but it died out as he held the object thrown at him and saw what it actually was. “You’re pregnant?!”

You only nodded, readying yourself for whatever celebration that was going to happen soon. Just as you expected, he sprung up and attached onto you to bring you down onto the bed with him.

“Yes! Yes! This is perfect. Thank you,” He planted so many quick kissed onto you face that they interrupted his sentence formation. “Thank you, thank you.”

“You should thank yourself for this, you are the one who always chooses to come inside.” You remarked jokingly, also wrapping your arms around him.

✪ Suguru Geto

— You sat nervously on the bed that was wrapped in white, thin paper to ensure it was clean for any patient that had to use it. And that patient was you. You gripped your husbands hand harder, looking to find comfort in his eyes.

“Hey, it’s going to be alright.” He smiled and brought your hand to his lips to press a kiss to the back of it. “We get so see her this time, isn’t that exciting?”

He used ‘her’ to refer to the growing babe in your stomach, but you didn’t truly know the sex of them just yet. He just hoped for a baby girl, hence the use of the pronoun.

Today was your first official appointment at the doctors that you would actually see your baby. You were both feeling so many emotions right now. You were both excited as well as frightened at the same time. You would be able to see your bundle of joy, but there was also a possibility of the fetus having something wrong with them, like a illness.

The door opened and your doctor entered. “Hello, I’ll be helping you for today. My name is D/n, pleasure to meet you.” She thrusted her hand towards your husband, then you as well.

“To begin, we’re just going to start with you Miss mommy. We will perform some basic health checks, your levels and such. How does that sound?” She was very sweet, always making sure to ask if you were ok to proceed.

“Sounds perfect.” Your husband responded for you politely. You added in a nod too.

“Now, let’s move on to what you’ve both been waiting for.” After your procedure was done, it was time for your baby’s turn. “I’m going to perform a ultrasound, you’ll be able to literally see your baby through this! All parents are overjoyed about their first ultrasound.”

“I’d say I’m more anxious, actually.” You muttered, you didn’t want to be a killjoy but how could you not? There was a big step between knowing you’re pregnant and watching your belly grow and actually seeing your baby.

“And that is completely normal! Many say the same too, if you are worried then that is just a sign you are going to be a caring mother.” She had a perfect response for everything. She must’ve been use to all of this already. “Now, I will warn you that the gel is quite cold, but that’s the worst that’s going to happen for this step.”

“Before I start, I ask all my patients if they would like to know the gender.” You both would definitely like to know, since Geto was so keen on it being a little girl.

“Yes please, my husband wants it to be a girl you see.” You informed D/n.

“And as for you? What would you like the gender to be?” She asked you this time.

“My wife doesn’t care much either way. She almost always corrects me when I say our baby is a girl.” Geto sent a look of admiration your way. Everyone took a moment to chuckle, once the moment was over you decided it was time to get it over with.

“Let’s do this, then.” You let it out as a breath. “You ready, Suguru?”

“Not really, are you?” He was joking, half joking at least.

“Not at all.” You responded, letting the man kiss your hand again.

The professional spread the gel all over the surface of your rounded stomach. Once it was to her liking, she turned on the machine and grabbed the device that had the sensor on the end of it. “Let’s see your baby!”

Except it wasn’t just a ‘baby’ the correct term would be ‘babies’ because there’s was two. “Oh, how lovely, you will be having twins it seems.”

Twins? You thought, what would Suguru think about this. So you tilted your head to your husband that was eagerly sitting beside you on his chair. He was in his own world, not noticing you were even looking at him. He eyes were stuck on the screen that showcased the little white and grey blurbs that were your babies.

“And it seems your husband was right about the gender, they’re both healthy, baby girls!” She cheered, continuously moving the wand around your stomach to get new angles.

“You see, I was right!” He pointed out, shimmying closer to your body that was laying down still.

“How do you feel about finding out it’s twins?” You couldn’t help but ask him, anticipating his response.

“I feel that whatever those results would have shown, I would still love you just the same.” He hummed, bringing his hand to your face and brushing your hair out of your face to lay a kiss on your forehead. “I might even love you more.”

✪ Kento Nanami

— Nanami had been at the grocery store, he had to purchase a long list of things. The list contained many things like milk, batteries, lettuce, a pregnancy test or two. Normal things.

Except, this was not normal of course. Nanami especially did not feel normal as of right now, he felt on edge ever since he received the text from you to add a pregnancy test to the grocery list. His phone almost fell right out of his hands at the store when he read it.

And now he was home finally.

You heard his car pull up earlier, so you were already there to meet him at the door once he came through. There was a awkward pause when he laid eyes on you. You didn’t know what to do, you just texted him out of the blue that you needed a pregnancy test. That could only mean one thing, that you were pregnant, or at least there was a possibility of it.

He dropped the bags that he held at the door way of your house where he stood. He quickly sped walk towards you, slightly leaning down to match your height. He brought his hands up to cup your face, he didn’t do anything now, just stare into your eyes. You looked into each others soul, relishing in this intimate moment together.

“You think you’re pregnant?” He asked in a soft voice as not to ruin the moment. You sighed but nodded still.

At this, he closed the gap between your lips and left a intense kiss on them. He pulled back but not too far, wanting to stay as close as he could to you right now.

“Alright.” Is what he said before he left you to return to the previously held bags. He searched through them to find the box that held the stick you needed.

He came back to where you still stood, placing the said box in one of your hands and taking the other in his to hold. “Let’s go the washroom, together.”

You nodded again, following the man that held your hand now. Together, you thought. That single word made you feel warm, it made you feel not so alone in this whole situation.

He opened the door that lead to your bathroom, stilling and letting you in so you could pee on the test in privacy. But you didn’t want that. “Can you stay?” You waited a moment. “Please?”

“Of course.” He kissed you cheek. You sat on the toilet, taking time to just stare at the unopened test before you. Nanami picked up on this, gently taking the box out of your hands and opening the package himself. He gave it back to you now, he hoped that this would send a message to you, that he was there for you no matter what.

You did your thing, peeing on the stick finally. You pulled it back up from underneath you, looking up at Nanami again. “Now we just wait, I guess.”

And wait you did, anxiously to say the least. You had now changed positions. You sat on the counter of the sink, in between your boyfriends legs while he stood. He had been spitting encouraging and comforting words while also rubbing soothing circles on your legs and back. Anything to pass the time and bring you consolation.

The amount of time that was needed had passed. Now it was time to look at the results.

You went to grab the stick but before you could, Nanami grabbed your hand to halt you. “I want you to know that now matter what it says, I’ll still love and support you, ok?”

“Ok.” You smiled up at the blonde, he always knew how to calm you down. He then let go of you so that you could continue with your pursuit of finding out the results.

You flipped the stick over and there it was, two lines that meant you were pregnant. You let a shaky breath out, not sure how to react to this. You looked at Nanami to see how he was handling this, fairly well it seemed. He had a small smile on his face and his eyes looked almost watery.

He took the test away from you, tracing the two lines that went downwards on the tiny screen. He dropped the stick back onto the surface, wrapping his hands around the back of your neck to bring you in for a big, celebratory kiss.

“I am honoured to be able to have a child with you, Y/n.”

✪ Toji Fushiguro

— The black haired man let out a yawn as he rested his feet on the row of benches in front of him. He had his arms stretched across the seats on either side of him too, completely relaxed in his current state. He was watching the boat race today.

This was his favourite hobby by far, he could just laze around the stadium all day and possibly win some money, though he seemed to have bad luck and lose most of it. He didn’t care though, because gambling put him in a good mood, nothing could bring him down. Then his annoying phone ringer went off, signalling someone was calling you. Now that, that could bring him down.

The race was set to start soon, any minute now even. He pulled the phone out of his pocket, your contact lit up the screen. He sighed, there was two minutes left until the boats started racing, he could spare one call with you.

“What, woman?” He drawled out with annoyance evident in his voice. Could you have called at a worse time? He thought internally.

“Get home, now.” Is all he heard on his side of the line before the call was ended by you. Who does she think she is, hanging up on me like that? And only saying three words! Even though he protested in his mind, he got up none the less and made his way to your shared apartment.

After you had ended that call, you immediately felt a wave of anxiety wash through your body. You were in the bathroom on the toilet, positive pregnancy test in hand.

You shouldn’t be surprised really, ever since the two of you started this relationship Toji insisted on having sex without a condom. Now you were forced to face the consequences to your actions, well Toji’s actions really.

You stood up, deciding you should get ready for your boyfriends arrival.

Once Toji arrived, he was met with your figure sitting at the kitchen table. You had your elbows rested on the surface and your hands covering your head. You looked distressed.

He walked up to you, kicking the chair leg you sat on. “What’s up with you? The race was just about to start too and then you had to go and call me all the way over here.”

You didn’t respond verbally, only pulling out a little stick and slamming it on the table in front of him.

He raised an eyebrow, picking the unknown object up and inspecting it. Oh shit, he thought. And that’s what he said out loud too. “Oh shit.”

“Oh shit? That’s all you have to say, really?!” You were starting to get angry now, what kind of response is that to such important news.

“What do you want me to say?” He asked, this was a genuine question. He wanted to know what you wished for as a response, did you want to keep it? Or didn’t you? He needed to know.

“I want you to say,” You breathed in. “I want you to say you’re happy, to say you’re happy to have a baby with me.” You whispered.

He wasn’t the best with sharing his emotions, you know this, but he showed it now in his own way. He dropped down to his knees in front of your chair, grabbing each of your hands and bringing them to his lips.

“I wanna have a baby with you.” He mumbled against your hands and kissed them.

✪ Choso Kamo

— Choso sat on the couch while watching the tv play in the living room. The two of you had cooked up some breakfast, it was early in the morning, but it was the weekend so you both could just relax and spend time doing what you want.

You were doing your morning routine in the bathroom, or at least that’s what Choso was told you were up to. Instead, you were nervously awaiting for the results of the second pregnancy test you had used. The first one was positive, so if this one was too, then it had to mean you were pregnant for sure.

You knew Choso had wanted a child ever since you met, he had told you almost every time you fucked. But for some reason, you still felt scared for his reaction once you told him.

Choso, finished his breakfast by now, had begun to feel worried. You have been in there for quite some time now, too long for your usual routine, and he knew how long you usually took. He had witnessed it almost every morning for the past two years. Plus he had to use the bathroom anyway, so he decided to go to you.

He placed his bowl in the sink, wiped his hands and went to go see what was taking you so long. Once he reached the door, he knocked on it. “Hey, Y/n. Everything alright in there?”

Your heart stopped, the white sticks almost dropping from your hands. “Uhm, ya! Almost done!”

“Can I come in, I have to pee really bad.” He giggled, gripping the doorframe in an attempt to hold his piss in.

You let a breath out, trying to ground yourself. This is Chose we’re talking about, he’s wanted a baby forever, and he loves you. He’ll be ok with it, you told your self. You threw one of the tests in the garbage and kept the other, holding it behind your back.

“Sorry, I lost track of time.” You said as you opened the door, allowing your boyfriend to come in.

“It’s fine.” He rushed past you, not without laying a kiss on your cheek though. He placed himself in front of the toilet, ready to unzip his pants, but stopped as he looked your way. You looked suspicious, you were standing by the sink and staring at him. The most interesting fact was that you had your hands behind your back, like you were hiding something.

He stopped in his tracks and came closer to you. “What you got back there?”

“This.” You said when you shoved the test into his chest. You had a smile on even though you were afraid, but you knew Choso would be excited. “You’re going to be a daddy, Choso.”

He brought the stick to his face, he was surprised to say the least, but a good kind of surprise. He had wanted this with you for a long time.

He grabbed you, picking you up and flinging you around in celebration. “I’m going to be a dad!” He laughed out.

“And I’m going to be a mom!” You laughed along with him. Placing kisses all over each other’s faces.

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magalhaessims · 3 months

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AGAVE APARTMENT - MAXIS-MATCH CC BUILD

I'm finally sharing an apartment! I chose to build in Oasis Springs and opted for the smallest lot available. There are three units in total, but I've only fully decorated one. I designed it with Johnny Zest in mind. Also, I really wanted to use these two new, coolest sets: Neighborly and Cheap&Chipped by @syboubou. I really loved all the items — especially the empty toilet paper roll; it's my new favorite! LOL.

Additionally, due to some glitches in my game following the For Rent patch, I've labeled this build as "Residential" to avoid any potential issues with saving files. If you encounter any problems, please don't hesitate to let me know! If you want to check out the construction progress, watch the YouTube video linked below.

NOT CC FREE

Lot Type: Residential | Rental

Size: 20x15

World: Oasis Springs

Enable bb.moveobjects before placing in your game!

📺 WATCH THE SPEED BUILD HERE ✨

Origin ID: MagalhaesSims (remember to enable custom content on!) DOWNLOAD

CC USED IN THIS BUILD:

NOTE: For convenience, some of the CC is included in the Download Folder. Please put it in your Mods Folder along with the CC linked below.

AwingedLlama: Nostalgia Living || Charly Pancakes: Chalk Kitchen (Clutter) | Munch | Soak | The Lighthouse || TheClutterCat: Busy Bee | Cozy Casita | Dandy Diary | Flower Power (Vinyl) | Hello Horse (Trophy) | Mellow Moods (Essential Oils Tray) || Felixandre: Colonial | Kyoto (Arch) | Soho || Harrie: Klean | Octave Collection | Shop The Look V2 | Spoons (Pizza Tray) | Stockholm || House Of Harlix: Baysic Bathroom | Baysic Set | Livin'Rum | The Kichen (Plant) | Tiny Twavellers (Wall) || KKB-MM: Citrus Room | My Heimish Hall || LittleDica: Delicato Living | Greasy Goods | Lava Lamp | Sleek Slumber || Max20: Classic Kitchen | Garden At Home | Master Bedroom | Poolside Lounge (Plant) || MyshunoSun: Gale Dining | Lottie Bedroom | Simmify | Sona Dining || Peacemaker-ic: Hinterland Kitchen (Honey Pot) | Hudson Bathroom (Towel Holder) | Tasteful Tots (Clutter) || Pierisim: Auntie Vera | Calderone Living | Coldbrew | Combles | David Apartment | Domaine Du Clos | MCM House Set | Oak House Set | Pantry Party | The Office | Tilable Kitchen | Unfold | Woodland Ranch || Simkoos: Clutter Dump || Sixam-CC: Art Studio | Cozy Family Livingroom | Home Improvement || SurelySims: Office Spaces (Clutter)

The CC Sets above are the main ones I used to decorate this specific building and you can find all the links to the creators’ sites on my Resource Page. However, if you can’t find something specific, you can send me a WCIF and I’ll try to help you find it!

My content will always be free and right away available to everyone, but if you want to, you can show your support through my Ko-Fi Page. Your donation will always be much appreciated!

Credits: @awingedllama @charlypancakes @felixandresims @harrie-cc @kkbsmm @littledica @maxsus @myshunosun @peacemaker-ic @pierisim @simkoos @imfromsixam @surely-sims @mmfinds @mmoutfitters @maxismatchccworld @s4realtor @coffee-houses-finds @sssvitlanz

#the sims 4 #ts4 maxis match #ts4 build #ts4 cc build #ts4 speed build #ts4 oasis springs #ts4 apartment #ts4 rental #ts4 for rent #build #download

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catsaar · 10 months

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The Hawthorne Residence

A suburban family home fit or a family with 2 kids, an infant and a cat. Comes with a kitchen, dining room, living room, laundry room, 2 bathrooms, a master bedroom, a kids bedroom for 2, an infant bedroom, an office, a greenhouse and plenty of outdoor space to enjoy.

Cc free, 40x30 residential lot, Brook Bungalow, Willow Creek

Gallery ID CatSaar: Download

Tray Files: simfileshare (no ads)

Uses: All current EP’s, Werewolves, My Wedding Stories, Dream Home Decorator, Strangerville, Jungle Adventure, Parenthood, Spa Day, Dine Out, Outdoor Retreat, Paranormal, Nifty Knitting, Tiny House, Moschino, Laundry day, Toddler, Vintage Glamour, Backyard, Kids Room, Romantic Garden, Movie Hangout, Cool Kitchen, Little Campers, Blooming Rooms, Everyday Clutter, Basement Treasures, Greenhouse Haven, Book Nook, Desert Luxe, Holiday

Place in build mode with bb.moveobjects on.

Please do not reupload my work or claim as your own.

If you’d like to support me, feel free to buy me a coffee. (Ko-fi)

#the sims 4 #ts4 #ts4 house #ts4 build #sims 4 download #sims 4 house #ts4 vanilla #ts4 vanilla build #ts4 willow creek #willow creek #catsaar #catsaarbuilds #simblr

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sanakimohara · 4 months

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“Tongue Tied” H.J.

{ MDNI } [ SEMI PROOFREAD ]

++++++

Jisung is so cute when he laughs and you get giddy hearing it but oh does it hurt to know he can’t be yours. You sit alone, mind running rampant with less than pure thoughts you’ve had about him, and not a single person suspects why you’re so quiet.

You’re always silent, everyone knows that, so you sit and imagine scenario after scenario.

You keep from staring at him by occupying yourself with a game on your phone. It works for a while but at some point Jisung sitting near you, talking up a storm as usual, and barely acknowledging your presence.

That is until he accidentally bumps into you. It’s not on purpose. Just a little nudge against the back of your head. You wince, not because he’s hurt you, but because you weren’t expecting to be this close to him all of a sudden.

Jisung smiles at you before apologizing, “My bad. I didn’t see you there. We good?” He holds out his hand, suggesting a fist bump to reconcile his mistake. You don’t say anything, just flash him a small smile before bumping a closed fist against his, and just like that he turns around to resume his conversation. You frown at the loss of attention and decide to leave your spot on the couch and go to the bathroom instead.

You want a minute alone, just to think, and maybe unwind yourself to get through the rest of the night with your sanity still intact.

Jisung is just…he drives you crazy…and you can’t do a thing about it.

You’d risk being hated by everyone, people would question your morality, and he’d definitely reject you. If locking yourself in a bathroom to get off on the thought of him was what you had to do to keep things the way they are now…it wasn’t a problem for you.

So, you stand, slipping past everyone towards the farthest bathroom. It’s upstairs and you doubt anyone will come looking for you up there. No one ever notices your absences in the first place. Jisung did though.

The moment you stood up from the couch he was leaning against his attention shifted from the conversation to your empty seat. He’d ask himself why you would leave, not aloud, but a singular thought he keeps to himself. His focus would be disconnected, trying to come up with reasons you’d disappear, and he comes to the conclusion it’s his fault. Maybe it really bothered you when he accidentally hit you. Maybe you felt even more alone when he continued to speak to someone else after apologizing.

These tiny assumptions about your behavior made him feel guilty and so Jisung excused himself, “I’m gonna go use the restroom. I’ll be right back.” He followed the path he’d seen you take upstairs, jogging up the steps, and heading down the hall to see which room you were in. Not his old one. Nor the master bedroom. You weren’t in the loft either. So that left the bathroom.

He hesitated to check there but eventually decided it wouldn’t hurt to be sure. He was about to knock, but instantly froze when he heard your soft moans and trembling whispers.

You were so quiet, barely mumbling louder than the running faucet you’d turned on to muffle any noise you make that might be heard outside. That little diversion doesn’t work too well since he’s inches away from the door, unable to speak, and even less capable of moving as he eavesdrops on you.

“Jisung…” you moan shakily, face burning up as the sound of his name edges you closer to your high. He bites his lip, having to shut his eyes to keep from reacting impulsively to your delicious little sounds. You, of all people were saying his name, chanting it between breathless sighs and strained whimpers. His cock twitched to life, growing firm in his jeans as he listened more closely.

You slid down to the floor, two fingers deep inside your cunt that was dripping cum at this point. Your clit was slick and ever so sensitive each time your thumb circled it in slow repetition.

You were sure his tongue could do so much better than your small fingers. His hands firmly gripping your inner thighs, pushing your legs apart as far as he needed to have unrestricted access to your count while eating you out.

Fuck, you swore his dark eyes would look so gorgeous staring up at you when your cum flowed onto his tongue. He wouldn’t hesitate to lap up the mess you make, smiling proudly when he spits on your overstimulated cunt.

Jisung is always so chaotic, charming, and easy to get along with. Just the thought of him being shamelessly filthy with you is a sin you indulge in.

He wouldn’t care about the disassociated look in your eyes when he sits up, admiring the sight of your fucked out state before rising to his feet, and fisting your hair into a makeshift ponytail. You whine in pain but he doesn’t care. “You’re okay sweetheart,” he reassured you, taking his belt off and setting it on the counter before unzipping his pants. A deep sigh rumbles in his chest as the confines keeping his erection hidden are loosened. You help him, expertly tugging his cock free from his boxers and pants.

Jisung bites back a groan feeling your bare hands wrap around his shaft. Your touch is soft and your fingers are still damp from touching yourself. A perfect combination. He can’t help the smile on his face as he stares down at you, on your knees, kitten licking his leaking tip with the most lustful look he’s ever seen.

You lick at his cock like candy, savoring how salty his precum is, and pumping his cock for more when it’s gone. Jisung leans back, dragging you with him, and bucking his hips towards your face for more. He’s not ready to force himself into your mouth, no, he wants to see how long you’ll tease him despite dreaming of tasting his cock for god knows how long.

“Come on, pretty girl. Let me fuck your face…” he pressed the tip to your pouty lips, a longing look in his eyes as he waits for you to oblige him. You do without a warning, deep throating him in one go.

He nearly moans too loud, head reeling back as the warmth of your mouth envelops his dick generously. It’s heaven on earth for him. Your delicate tongue swirling up and over his length in intricate patterns and your hands fondle his base gently with every bob of your head.

He’d be lying if he told you he wasn’t jealous of the other men who’ve had the honor of getting head from you.

A strangled chuckle leaves his chest as you deep throat him again, inviting his tip to abuse the back of your throat, and each time you’d moan like it was a personal reward for you.

Jisung looked back down at you, drops of sweat forming on his temple from the unrelenting heat coursing through him, and it was no help to him that you looked perfectly in love with him fucking your face. Drool trickled down your chin, tears glossing your half lidded eyes, and your face a shade of light pink.

He could only admire you for so long before his eyes rolled back slightly in pleasure.

You moaned on his dick, vibrating it with pressure, and then you felt him twitch. He was close and you were eager to feel his release coat your tongue and slide down your throat. “Fuck…fuck you’re so…gooooddd Ahm…” he moaned quietly, whimpering in utter bliss, and struggling to find any other words to praise you.

Your heart swells with pride hearing Jisung’s compliment and you take extra care in sucking him off then. Your tongue circled his tip slower and your hands pump his base faster.

The overstimulation paired with the impending height of his climax has him growling and groaning like a touch starved man .

You think it’s so cute.

“Want you…need you to take it alll…” he stutters, nearly pleading for you to swallow his seed as it pours out into your dainty mouth.

There’s so much of it, warm, salty, and thick. It flows down your chin but you keep milking his tip with your tongue for more as you swallow it down greedily.

You’ve got him shaking at this point, whining in immense pleasure, and it’s so intoxicating. Jisung has no words, only a stunned expression when you finally remove your lips from his cock with a soft ‘pop’ a string of cum and saliva connects you to him and you lick it up with a content smile.

“M’ sorry if I did too much…I’ve just wanted to do that for a while,” you break the silence with a genuine apology and a heartfelt smile.

He regains his composure and starts to fix himself up, shaking his head in disbelief from what just happened.

Jisung doesn’t regret it though and he lets you know that with a pleased smirk on his face. “No need to apologize. I needed it anyway and…” his gaze trailed over your body, dark eyes hazing over with lust again when they met yours, “I have a few things I want to do to you too…”

Your face heats up and you have to look away from him as he leans down to caress your face with one hand. “I want to keep you as my little secret alright? You’d like that too, right sweetheart?” Jisung kisses you, knowing you’ll say yes, knowing you’ll chase his lips for another kiss.

He’ll let you have it, dominating your tongue with his, and only pulling away when you’re panting for air.

+++++++

I wrote this for a crush a while back but it fit Jisung so well that I decided to tweak it to feed all the Jisung stans 🖤 hope you enjoy it…

BONUS CONTENT +

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thecuriousquest · 6 months

Note

Heyy me again. Your writing is amazing You don't have to but can you do a kiribaku G3.

Hunt and Chase

Villains KiriBaku x Fem!Reader

Hey Dellulu-lover! Thanks for the support. I really appreciate it. 🖤🤘

Prompt Request: “One, two, Daddy is coming for you. Three, four, knocking down your door.”

Tag List: @issamomma @repostingmyfavs @chickennugnugnug @palesweetscherryblossom

Warnings: Yandere themes, SFW, breaking and entering, killing your parents, kidnapping, drugging, implied use of needle (shot)

Master List

Yandere Alphabet Prompt List

—————————————————————————

You keep yourself hidden under your bed with a hand pressed tightly against your lips. At eighteen, you live in a grandiose estate with your wealthy parents. However, tonight, something unimaginable has taken place.

Your very well-guarded manor has been invaded. You don’t understand how it happened. The security detail is top notch, yet every single one of them out there is dead!

You hear Mother’s screaming and Father’s panicked cries as a shot rings throughout the house. Your father continues to plead for their mercy, but Mother’s voice ceases.

You clench your stomach with utter fear, vomit threatening to spill upon the thought of your mother’s corpse covered in blood. A second shot interrupts Father’s begging, and you can’t help the tears spilling over the hand you have clasped against your mouth.

Both of your parents are dead. All of the security men are dead.

A gruff voice, rough and sounding like he’s done with everyone in the world, moves throughout the hallways.

“Y/N.”

He sounds like he’s toying with you as he rumbles your name. How does he know your name?

A second voice catches your attention. He sounds a little rough, but not as deep as the first man. A little more enthusiastic as well.

“We don’t mind playing this game. We know we’ll end up finding you anyway.”

You don’t know how, but you find your palm clamping down even harder on your lips. You suppress a noise climbing up your throat as you hear a door in the hallway burst open. They’re getting closer to your bedroom, and you can’t help the twitch and tremble of your muscles.

“One, two, Master’s coming for you!” It’s the deep and gruff voice this time.

Then, you hear the energetic one shout, “Three, four, Daddy’s knockin’ down the door!”

You hear a mixture of their laughs and chuckles. They find this amusing? You find this terrifying.

The barrier which has kept you safe from them opens up. With the way the blanket is only two inches from covering the end of your large bed, you can see black boots stalking around your room. You watch one pair move towards your bathroom while the other checks your closet.

You have this tiny window, and only this window. You know they’ll end up checking your bed at some point, and when they move your comforter to the side and lock eyes with you, it’ll all be over.

Carefully sliding yourself out from under the bed, you take off for the door. Looking back over your shoulder, you notice one of them has blonde and spiky hair, and he’s yelling at the man in the bathroom to follow him.

The blonde man chases after you. If you can just manage to make it to one of the cars, then you’ll be able to get out of here and find help.

You run into the garage, locking the door behind you. Clutching the car keys to your chest that you plucked from your room on the way down here, you run to your car. You don’t even bother with your seatbelt, you just try to start the car.

The door bursts open, motivating you to try and do everything faster.

Sweat builds on your forehead, and you can’t understand why the car isn’t turning on. You panic as you ram the key into the ignition again and again.

“No!” You smack the steering wheel out of anger, not understanding what’s happening at all.

There’s a knock on the window, and you slowly turn your head out of fear to lock eyes with a redheaded man.

“Car troubles?”

He punches straight through your window, and you shield your face from the glass. You scream as he unlocks the car, opens your door, and hauls you out with both arms trapping your body against his chest.

“See? We told you we’d find you,” he whispers into your ear.

“Who the fuck are you people?! Why did you do this to me? Why kill my parents, all of the guards?! Is it money you want? You didn’t need to kill my family for money. We would’ve given it to you!”

The blonde slaps you to shut you up, turning your head with the impact of his calloused palm.

“Shut up. We did all of this for you. We’re fucking taking you home to live with us, and we can’t do that if your parents are always after you.”

The redhead laughs at you. “She’s shakin’ like a little puppy dog.”

“Who are you?”

“I’m Katsuki Bakugou.”

“I’m Eijiro Kirishima. Don’t worry. We’re gonna take really good care of you. Ain’t that right, Bakubro?”

“Yeah, just don’t do anything stupid, and we won’t have any damn problems. Got that?”

No, you don’t “got that”, you don’t understand any of this. They’re taking you? Just kidnapping you like it’s another Tuesday for them?

You thrash around in Kirishima’s arms. “Let go of me! I’m not going to let you fucking kidnap me, you bastards! What the hell?!”

Something sticks your butt, sharp and pinching through your thin nightgown. You go limp in the strong man’s arms, and your eyes slowly close.

The last thing you see and hear is Katsuki smirking at you and saying, “Yeah, like you have a fucking choice.”

#yandere #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere x darling #yandere themes #triggering content #triggering themes #my hero acedamia #my hero academia #yandere my hero academia #boku no hero academia #yandere boku no hero academia #bnha eijiro kirishima #bnha katsuki bakugou #yandere eijiro kirishima #yandere katsuki bakugou #yandere kiribaku

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shellseaisms · 9 days

Text

pretty + pink apartment.

been wanting to attempt building an apartment with the late night high rise shells from scratch and I love the colour pink, so here is a very pink apartment. pretty custom content heavy because I can't get enough of it, sorry to those who are not as fond!! furnished with a master bedroom and an office that could be turned into another bedroom if required. hope you like it!

I edited some of the windows/arches for this build to completely remove the light source, because exterior lighting coming in the windows drives me up the wall when building in this game :~) you can download those separately if you also want to use them, or just replace them with the actual windows if you don't care about the rooms going weirdly bright and blue. there's also an edit of the tiny circle light (possibly from outdoor living); I've given it a different light source because the original doesn't give off enough light and all the other lights are a bit ugly. that's also included separately with the windows/arches.

custom content used: find all cc links for this build on the spreadsheet here.

§61,863 furnished, §5,537 unfurnished

1 bedroom, 1 bathroom

40 x 30 lot size

custom content included with package file

built in rosewood hills

download @ patreon | watch me build this house here.

#ts3 #ts3cc #s3cc #the sims 3 #simblr #mine #ts3 apartment #ts3 build #dl: builds #pretty and pink #dl: mine

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samkerrworshipper · 5 months

Text

bad days | vivianne miedema x beth mead

based off of the recent article they did for the athletic that made my heart swell… basically viv has a bad anxiety day and beth is there for her

warnings: angst, anxiety, hurt/comfort, fluff

Beth’s watching Myle run laps around the kitchen as she trundles around trying to make dinner.

It’s chicken pesto pasta, Viv’s favourite.

Myle somehow managed to get her toy stuck in the opening of a cupboard, tugging with the piece of rope tirelessly, trying to free it from the tight space it’s stuck in.

Beth spectates for a few seconds, before realising that the tiny puppy has absolutely no hope of freeing it, so she leans down and pulls it out of the cupboard door hinge.

The puppy, now with the toy hanging half out of its mouth because of how small her jaw is, continues running around, looping around Beth’s feet as she watches over the pots and pans that are cooking steadily on the stove.

It’s moments like these that make Beth so incredibly grateful for the life that Viv and her have built together, the little mundane domestic moments that are just a part of everyday life, but the routine has wormed its way into Beth’s heart and she couldn’t be happier about it.

Beth flips over the chicken and stirs the pasta, the food is only a few minutes from being done.

It’s as she begins to bring out the plates and cutlery that she realises Myle has disappeared into thin air.

If it was any other time of day, Beth wouldn’t really stress it, the puppy is always causing trouble around the house. But, Myle has very quickly discovered that whenever Beth is in the kitchen she’s making food, and the off chance that she might drop something for the puppy to collect normally means that the puppy doesn’t stray far from her feet, yet alone the kitchen.

Beth’s curious more than anything, a touch worried but not really. Normally when Myle gets stuck somewhere or in something you know about it fairly quickly, the puppy has lungs as strong as a big husky, sometimes she worries for their neighbours when Myle gets antsy in her crate in the middle of the night and starts crying like a newborn baby.

Anyone who says having a puppy is easy, is wrong, obviously Beth wouldn’t compare it to an actual child, but it’s pretty fucking tiring.

“Myle, pup?”

Normally the call of the dogs name would have her running, bounding around any corner or hallway that she was exploring, that’s why Beth’s tinge of worry grows a little bit when she’s not rewarded with the sound of pattering paws or tapping toes.

Beth glances over to the couch, where she’s fairly certain Viv was sitting, not a few minutes ago, looking for her lover and her worry only growing when she realises that the couch, the room she’s standing in is completely empty.

Beth, quicker than she’d care to admit turns off the stove, pouring the pasta into a strainer and moving the chicken onto a chopping board before leaving the kitchen and walking slowly down the hallway, peeking her head into each room.

“Vivi, bubba, where are you?”

Beth makes it past their bedroom, sticking her head into the room and not spotting anything out of the ordinary, the ensuite light is off so she assumes it’s empty.

She keeps moving, the spare room is just as empty as the master bedroom, and so is their office space.

“Viv, liefde, where are you?

Beth makes it past the bathroom, and her worry only seems to grow from it’s spot in the pit of her stomach when she realises it’s just as empty as the rest of the house. It’s as she’s making it to the very end of the hallway, approaching the laundry room that she recognises a little bit of light peeking out from under the door.

“Vivianne, lovey?”

As Beth approaches, she also realises that the door is slightly ajar, so she pokes her head around and instantly becomes a little bit more relaxed when she spots the hunched over form of her girlfriend, little Myle balanced in her arms, cuddled in her sweatshirt and chest.

“Vivi, love, you had me worried.”

Beth is a little bit exasperated, still letting her heart settle from the little spike of anxiety, so it takes her a few seconds of looking at her girlfriend to pick up on the fact that something seems amiss.

“Viv, honey?”

Viv peeks her head out of the shoulder of her hoodie, Myle almost immediately laying licks and kisses all over Viv’s face, Beth gets a good enough look at her though to recognise the tear tracks on her partner's face, and her wobbly lip.

Beth takes a deep breath, before fully stepping into the cramped laundry space, closing the door behind her and sitting down against it.

“Why are we in the laundry room, sweet girl?”

Beth has an inkling of an idea what Viv could be upset about or worked up about, but truthfully she’s in the dark mostly. So she starts with the easier questions, hoping that it’ll give her an idea about why Viv is upset.

“Washing machine, calms me.”

Viv’s words are thready, her laboured breathing and anguished tone an indicator to Beth that this isn’t any minor little breakdown.

“Silly me, I forgot about that. What do you need Vivi?”

Beth knows that this isn’t the time to try and ask Viv about whatever is happening up in her head, it’s a pointless battle, Viv can hardly piece together words, trying to get her to talk about her feelings would be impossible.

“J-just talk to me?”

Beth smiles at Viv, nodding in agreement immediately and leaving no room for Viv to find any doubt.

“Indulge my chatterbox? You know that I’m always happy to do that!”

Beth is peppy, Beth is happy, Beth is kind.

Beth is ready to be anything that Viv needs when she’s struggling.

“Vivi, do you want me to come sit with you? Or do you want some personal space?”

Vivi’s lip ends up in between her front teeth, her brain toying with either option.

Beth sees the doubt, the last thing Viv ever wants to be is needy, especially when she is suffering, so Beth decides to rephrase.

“Vivi, it’s your decision, but I can come sit with you, or you I can stay here, my voice carries.”

Beth keeps her voice light, welcoming, sunny.

She smiles when Viv nods a little bit, her head nodding down at the space beside her.

Beth scootches her ass against the tile floor, until she’s sitting beside Viv, leaning on the washing machine.

Without Beth even initiating contact, Viv’s head is sliding down to the seat of Beth’s thighs, the back of her head resting against Beth like a pillow.

Myle’s tucker under Viv’s hoodie, resting on her chest, the puppy’s little snout peeking out at the collar, fast asleep.

Beth’s hands fall down to Viv’s hair, untying the tight bun gently and beginning to card her fingers through Viv’s hair and scalp, massaging out any tensions or knots.

“Myle peed outside for the first time on command this morning, whilst you were on your walk, should have seen the zoomies that she did after I gave her the reward treat. I swear every single day that dog achieves a new level of energy. Leah and Lia came over for some puppy cuddles as well, I’m pretty sure Le’s on her way to convincing Lia to get them one of their own, I reckon give it a few weeks and Myle’s going to have a little playbuddy.”

Myle had been a rather rash decision, unsurprisingly Beth’s purchase.

Viv was dealing with a setback, whilst Beth was living out all her dreams on the field, and Beth knew that it was getting to her.

Not that Viv would ever be envious or jealous of Beth, never, she was so incredibly proud of her girlfriend and everything she was achieving.

Recovering from a major injury sucked though, and the recovery wasn’t linear or identical for anybody.

So, when an ad showed up for some puppies from the same breeder that her family had gotten Rona from, and Viv had been having a really hard week, Beth had decided to jump the gun and buy her.

Beth was fairly certain it had been one of the best decisions she could make, Viv’s attachment to the dog had been almost immediate, and her general mood had improved massively.

She still had her bad days, everyone did, but the puppy was something to be grateful for everyday, something that didn’t represent soccer, or any of the other things it felt like she kept failing at.

Viv’s breathing is thick and laboured, Beth takes notice but doesn’t bring it up, she decides that if it worsens any more she’ll intervene but otherwise it’s just a practice of making sure that it doesn’t go on for too long.

“Those packages with the new sheets came in, the comfy ones that we checked out in those windows in London. They’re divine, I swear they are the comfiest things I’ve ever felt, I’m sure you’ll love them. I’ve cooked chicken pesto for dinner, for whenever you're ready. It’s technically bath night and my knee is sore from training earlier so if you wanted we could have a bath, and use the special salts that we save for special occasions?”

Beth watches Viv’s face relax a little. When Viv's anxious or stressed she needs routine, she needs to know what’s happening, she needs to be aware of what’s happening around her.

Beth knows from experience, she's learnt how to denominate as much outside stress as possible, it makes it easier to get to the bottom of whatever is happening.

“Vivi, whenever your ready, how about we get off the floor, hmm? Your knee has to be sore sitting down here?”

If Beth could, she would sit on the floor with Viv for hours, just whispering sweet nothings into her ear, but her own knee is starting to get sore, and if Beth’s knee is getting sore, chances are Viv’s is as well.

When Viv’s anxious, she struggles to express her needs and struggles, it’s hard for Beth to know all of the time, but their knees are something they have in common.

“S-sorry, didn’t mean to cause you pain.”

Viv’s voice is quiet, her big deep breaths coming through between every word.

“Nothing to be sorry for my love, just looking out for you, so how about we get up, we can go wherever you’d like.”

It’s sort of a lie when Beth thinks about it, because they obviously can’t go wherever Viv would like, they have to be here, they’re stuck in this house, which sucks, but that’s just their lives.

“Couch and chicken pesto?”

Beth smiles and nods at Viv, a big wide smile, she’d hoped that Viv was feeling well enough to eat, whether the Dutch woman wanted to admit it or not, she got grumpy if she didn’t eat her three meals a day.

Beth stays on the floor with Viv for another minute, soaking up it all before gently pushing Viv’s head out of her lap and standing up, before Viv can object, Beth’s reaching down for her armpits and lifting Viv up and onto her hip.

It’s an awkward exchange between the two of them, Viv is so long and langy, and a lot larger than Beth is. The weight is nowhere near an issue, it’s just Viv’s stature, Beth’s just glad it’s only a 20 metre walk to the couch, where she very gently deposits Viv and Myle, right back to the spot she’d previously occupied.

It’s clear Viv is physically upset when Beth lets go of her, so Beth makes sure to reassure her.

“Viv liefje, I’ll be back in just a minute, just going to go grab our food, why don’t you put something on the tv, hmm?”

Viv just nods at Beth, so she walks back into the kitchen, making sure to keep an eye on Viv as she puts together their dinner in two bowls, putting on a little bit of the goats cheese that Viv loves and then balancing the two bowls in her arms like a waitress before walking back to the couch.

Viv’s already made a space for Beth, right beside her, Beth eases into the spot without any fight, hanging the bowls of food over to Viv so she can open her arms up to her partner.

Viv accepts the sentiment with ease, sliding her body directly into Beth’s.

Beth reaches for the remote, quickly turning on the tv and putting on whatever EPL game that’s on, it’s background noise, an attempt at reminding Viv exactly where she is, exactly how safe she is in the place that they’ve made home.

As soon as the scent of food hits Myle’s nose the dog is worming its way out of Viv’s sweater, dropping down into her lap and sniffing around the bowls.

The dog hasn’t yet found the confidence to take any food from the bowls yet, but Beth’s fairly certain that isn’t far around the corner, the pup is growing more confident as the days go by.

Beth watches Viv, watches as the woman she loves most in the world slowly begins to eat her food, there are moments though, little fractions of time every once in a while where Viv’s eyes wander, out the window into their dark backyard, when these moments come Beth notices Viv’s body tense up, her eyebrows and face going rigid for a few seconds until she snaps out of whatever trance she’s in and goes back to eating.

Beth keeps talking, whether it’s about the food or getting new furniture for their living room. It’s just random conversation, Viv listens attentively.

Viv will complain every single day that Beth talks too much, that she can never get her to shut up, and it’s true, Beth is always talking, but secretly it's one of Viv’s favourite things about Beth.

Because Beth, chatty Beth, happy Beth, can always manage to distract Viv from whatever deep thoughts that are plaguing her mind, the deep anxiety that sometimes feels like has embedded itself in Viv’s chest.

Beth was the first person to genuinely understand what Viv deals with everyday, sure, Lisa helped her, Lisa did whatever she could, but she didn’t fully understand the complete hatred Viv had begun to harbour for her growing career, for the constant pressure that fell on her shoulders.

Beth knew what a bad day looked like, what a bad day could feel like, she knew exactly how hard it was to free yourself from the mental cage that anxiety trapped you in.

“Vivi, honey, I’m going to take the dishes up to the sink, do you think you could take Myle out for me, if you feel up to it?”

Viv blinks a few times, her brain taking a little bit of extra time to process the question, but once she has she’s nodding easily and releasing Beth from their embrace, so her girlfriend is able to stand up and return to the kitchen.

Once Beth has trotted off with the bowls, Viv stands up and walks towards the back door, Myle trailing behind her.

Beth takes her time with the dishes, takes as much time is humanly possible, waiting for Viv to come in.

When she’s fairly certain its been at least five minutes she realises that the dishes are definitely done and that she’s just loitering.

So she moves down into the living room, tidying up any extra clutter and turning off the tv.

Another five minutes go by, and Beth can’t really distract herself anymore, so she slowly walks towards the backdoor, opening it up hesitantly.

She doesn’t spot anything amiss to start, until a second scan of the backyard she spotted who she was looking for, Viv, balled up in one of the patio chairs, staring up at the black nothingness.

“Vivi, liefje, it’s cold out here, can’t have you catching a cold.”

Viv doesn’t flinch, Beth’s voice falling on deaf ears.

“Vivianne, inside, let’s go.”

It’s Beth's slightly stricter and louder tone that seems to catch Viv’s attention, almost immediately Viv is jumping out of the seat, and hurrying towards Beth.

Beth pulls her inside the house, locking the door behind her and turning off the patio light before gently leading Viv down the hallway and into their bedroom.

“Viv, I’m going to go and run the bath, do you want to find some pyjamas for the both of us for when we’re done?”

Viv freezes up, which has Beth pausing.

“Vivi, do you still want a bath? Or do you just want some cuddles?”

Viv nods frantically at the second option and Beth smiles, a big broad smile.

“That’s fine honey, how about I go and get the pjs then and you put Myle down in his crate?”

Viv tenses again, and Beth’s left wondering.

“Can’t he sleep with us?”

Beth snorts, mostly at the hypocrisy Viv is displaying.

Because Viv was the one who had set down the law that before Myle was ever going to even be allowed anywhere near their bed, she had to be crate and bathroom trained.

Beth, originally had been the one to object, absolutely enamoured by the dog and just wanting to have it in her arms every hour of every day.

“Vivi, she’s not toilet trained yet, and I’m not getting dog piss all over new sheets. How about she can fall asleep with you in here, but once you're asleep, I’ll move her?”

Viv nods at the compromise, a little smile gracing her face that makes Beth immediately feel a little bit happier.

“Alright well, unless you want to get changed, how about you hope under the sheets whilst I get dressed?”

Viv nods, already sliding her long and gangly limbs under the covers and relaxing into her side of the bed.

Beth is fairly certain that she takes a maximum of a minute to get changed, throwing her day clothes in the hamper before picking out one of Viv’s old Netherlands hoodies and a pair of Arsenal shorts that could be either of theirs.

A minute, maximum.

Yet, when she does turn around and look back at their bed, she’s met with the sight of Viv, dead asleep, slumped against her pillow.

It’s an adorable sight, and it calms Beth’s anxiety durastically, because like this, with Myle cuddled under the sheets with her, and Viv looking so incredibly stress free, it makes Beth feel so much better, so much less clueless as to whatever is happening with Viv at the moment.

Sure, she knows that there is still other stuff going on in the background, stuff that she’ll try her very hardest to unveil tomorrow, but right now, with Vivi looking more at peace then she has all day, Beth takes the win.

She slips Myle out of Viv’s arms, the puppy just as fast asleep as it’s owner, gently putting the pup down in it’s crate before closing the door and turning back around.

She turns all the lights off in the room, closes the blinds and makes sure that the thermostat is running because Beth knows how easily Viv can get cold when she’s feeling vulnerable.

Then she slips into bed beside her lover, staring at the face of a woman who has endured so much pain and yet lived through every minute of it, flourished in ways that nobody could have ever imagined.

It’s with that in mind that Beth slowly drifts off to sleep, her arms snaking around Viv and Viv’s freezing feet coming up to rub against Beth’s warm legs, searching for warmth and comfort.

#woso #woso community #lionesses #marry me rn #arsenal wfc #vivianne miedema #baby vivi #beth mead #meado #meadema #myle meadema #little bit of fluff #i love some hurt/comfort #hurt/comfort #beffy

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shotmrmiller · 5 months

Text

just a drabble

prompt for this was how terrible reader is to even acknowledge texts that reader's date is doomed but im pretty sure i lost the plot drooling over a crazy fictional man but hey! it is what it issss.

TW: obsessive behavior, controlling, and baby trapping.

Toxic!Simon was possessive over you. He knew who you spoke to — always knew of your whereabouts. So when you told him you wanted to break up two months ago, Simon humored you; After all, he always kept you within arm’s reach. However, after he saw you getting ready for a ‘date’, it seemed that you were under the impression that this was not temporary.

And that was unacceptable.

—-----------------------------

Simon watches you eat dinner with a guy— having a lively conversation before eventually getting up to leave with your companion in tow. Simon sends a text, pockets his phone, and rises from the bar in the restaurant directly across from the one you'd eaten at— before heading towards his truck.

It’s time he moved you back in with him— especially now that you’re in a more delicate state.

With the secret cameras he had installed in your flat some time ago, he always kept an eye on you. But last month, Simon had noted the absence of your menses — meaning the seed that had leaked through the tiny punctures he had made in the condoms finally took.

He offhandedly wonders if you’d get upset with him over this, but ultimately it didn’t matter. It was easier to ask for forgiveness than permission, after all.

—---------------------------

You step through the door as your date holds your hand, fingers intertwined. You turn to him and softly say, “I’m going to get some water if you don’t mind. Make yourself at home.”

Agreeing with a nod, he politely asks if he can use your bathroom. You direct him towards the bedroom door and proceed to the kitchen. Setting your belongings on the countertop, you reach into your purse to grab your phone.

As you glance through all the notifications, you recall a time when Simon pointed out your bad habit of never responding to texts, warning you that it could cause problems—

And then you see it. A text from Simon.

Gripping your phone tightly, a sense of dread consumes you. Your finger taps the screen, and as you read his message, you come to a chilling realization.

Simon saw you at dinner.

A loud bang startles you. As you turn to look, you suspect that the noise may have been from the front door, but no one’s there. You cautiously tread through your flat, calling out for your date— while desperately hoping that the sound you just heard was a figment of your imagination.

Entering the bedroom, your eyes meet Simon's as he lounges on the bed. Despite the relaxed position of his arms crossed behind his head, his unnerving stare reveals that he is far from calm.

The silence in the room is oppressive, and the rapid beat of your heart in your ears deafening. He moves to stand in front of you and says, “I was more than generous in granting you this break but it ends now.”

He takes a step forward, standing tall over you, and grabs your chin with his fingers almost cruelly.

“You. are. mine.”

With a quivering breath, you ask Simon what he did to your date (aint your date no more, though) and Simon just shrugs— making you wonder if his body will be found face down in some ditch come morning.

Simon envelops you in a tight embrace, causing you to surrender all control as you lean helplessly into him. He effortlessly manipulates your every move, like a master puppeteer with his marionette.

His arms once shielded you from the outside world; Now they’re confining— his makeshift cage for you.

a/n: make a mental note to tell Simon that you’ve a doctor appt for the stomach bug that's been plaguing you for a while.

id have all of his babies, like no sweetheart now you're stuck with me.

@luminousbeings-crudematter

@ivymarquis

@neoarchipelago <- gotchu

#call of duty #cod #simon ghost riley #cod mw2 #cod mwii #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost simon riley #simon riley #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #toxic simon for life

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sapphicmsmarvel · 3 months

Text

feysand vs spider

a little bit of fluff for this valentines day 💜

thank you for being my valentines for these past seven years and sticking by me during my random ass absences. 💜

You began the nice walk home from Ritas, you and Azriel had gone out to get him laid. Well to hang out but you had an ulterior motive for the evening. You knew there was a shadow trailing you home because you declined Azriel to walk (or fly) you there. You enjoyed the night time breeze. But he wouldn’t let you walk home without something even though he knew you could protect yourself. You were married to the literal rulers of the court, you knew damn well how to protect yourself.

You got to the house, Feyre and Rhysand left the porchlight on for you. When you got to the door and walked in, you turned to the shadow trailing you.

“Thank you.” You smiled sweetly and let the shadow twirl around your fingers before it took off to its master.

You loved those things, they were just so cool.

You took off your coat and shoes and that’s when you heard it.

Your mates screamed from the bedroom, and it wasn’t out of pleasure, you quickly ran through the house.

Can't be Nyx, he’s away at Nesta and Cassians was the first thought that went through your head. At least your son was okay. You would’ve heard if he wasn't by now.

You barged into the bedroom and found your husband and wife snuggled into bed, well snuggled would be the word you used if they didn’t look so terrified.

“What is it?” You asked, looking around with your dagger drawn. Yes, you went out to the club with a knife strapped to your thigh, so sue you.

“Love, do not freak out.” Rhysand babbled, “It’s behind you!”

You spun, brandishing your dagger when all you saw was a blank wall behind the door.

“What?” You spun back around, looking at them with confusion.

“The spider!” Feyre shouted.

You turned back around slower in utter confusion (but love and support for your scaredy cat spouses) and that’s when you saw it.

A tiny, fuzzy black spider that isn’t bigger than a coin. You smiled, “this is it?”

“Don’t mock us.”

“She’s not mocking us, darling.” Rhysand, ever the sweetheart, began defending you.

“Oh I am.” You admitted. Then you leaned down and used your hand to pick up the spider. It was very tiny, and yeah it’s a creepy little thing but your spouses were babies.

“Open the window, Rhys.” He did so without question. Both of them looking at you with eyes wide, full of fear and amazement.

You tossed the little guy out the window.

You reached to crawl onto the bed to kiss them, when Feyre shoved you away with her foot. “No! Go wash your hands, heathen!”

You rolled your eyes but got up nonetheless and went to the en-suite bathroom to wash them. While you were in there you changed from your dress into Rhysands shirt and Feyre’s sleep shorts.

You came back out to see Rhysand smiling sweetly and Feyre was giving you a scowl. You leaned over and kissed her pouty lips. “I took care of it didn’t I?”

“I know you well enough to know you were mocking us.”

“Me? Never.” You gasped. She rolled her eyes but kissed you again. “Now scoot, I wanna go to bed.”

She scooted over and Rhysand reached over to give you a kiss, “goodnight, love.”

“Goodnight.”

You fell asleep with all of your arms wrapped around each other, even though you’re going to wake up to someone hitting you in the face in the middle of the night, you couldn’t be happier.

#acotar #acofas #acowar #acomaf #feysand #feyre archeron #feyre x rhysand #feysand x reader #feysand fluff #acotar fluff #acotar fanfic #feysand fic #feyre x reader #rhysand x reader

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writinginfinite · 10 months

Text

we've been caught. you might as well post it.

Despite rumors among reporters, Lewis was a master of the art of concealment. It took nearly a year before you and Lewis confided in your closest friends that you two were in a relationship. Lewis yearned to show the world the woman he loved but respected your boundaries. You knew stepping into the spotlight would forever change your life and the lives of your loved ones. Protecting them was your priority. You were slowly coming around to the idea of a “soft launch” but didn’t tell Lewis because you knew he’d hop on the idea instantly. When you would feel comfortable enough to reveal yourselves remained unknown, as you cherished the balance between secrecy and love.

There was something about taking down your braids in the late-night hours that just felt right to you. Perhaps it was the hushed stillness of what surrounded you that finally allowed you to relax, even though doing your hair felt like a challenge. Or it was because you kept putting it off throughout the day and finally accepted you had to stop procrastinating. You mostly rationalized with yourself that it was the former. After laying out a few of the things you needed to take down your braid, you took a look at your surroundings, taking in it all. This bathroom wasn’t what you were used to at all. You gazed at your reflection in the grand mirror, lost in thoughts of the past month:

Moving from your tiny apartment into Lewis' penthouse was a significant change, and despite his reassurances, it was challenging to fully embrace this place as your own. Figuring out where your things belonged and adjusting to Lewis' particular preferences was a daunting task. Lewis claimed to be okay with the changes. You understood the deep attachment he had to his home. There was a challenge now in finding a harmonious blend of your styles and creating a sanctuary that reflected your two’s shared love.

Lewis' groggy voice brought you back to reality. "Why are you still awake, love?" Lewis got home earlier in the morning after a long week. All you wanted to do was let him sleep. You tried to tiptoe around the house and quietly open and close cabinets, but now it seems like you weren’t as cautious as you thought. "I'm sorry for waking you. I was looking for more shampoo and conditioner," you apologized. You pointed towards the two bottles resting upside down on the countertop. You were trying to get as much product out as possible since you were running low.

"Oh, about that," Lewis apologetically admitted. "I used up most of it before I left. It completely slipped my mind that I needed to buy you more." For a split moment, you had a feeling of annoyance, but it was short-lived. You appreciated the little things about Lewis. His willingness to admit when he made mistakes or forgot something - a quality you weren’t used to in previous partners. Lewis sensed your frustration. "We could go get some right now," he suggested, but you quickly dismissed the idea. "Lewis, it's late, and there aren't many places open around here. Besides, you need to get some sleep. It’s the deliriousness talking," you reasoned, once again opening up the unfamiliar bathroom cabinets, as if bottles were magically going to appear.

Turning back around, you found yourself again alone in the bathroom. You made your way through the long hallways of the home, reaching your shared bedroom. You walked in to see Lewis wearing sweatpants, throwing a hoodie over his head. When Lewis noticed you were in the room, he tossed one of his sweatshirts in your direction, which you barely caught on time. "Where are you going?”

"We're going to Target," Lewis responded. "Apparently, there's one just a five-minute walk from here, and it closes in an hour and a half." His statement struck you, and a soft chuckle escaped your lips. Your boyfriend lived here for years and just discovered Target. You’ve visited that location a few times since moving in with him. This was just another reminder of the two different worlds you both lived in. Lewis thought he said something wrong, and questioned, "What's so funny?" You shook your head and replied, "Nothing, Lewis. Look, we can go in the morning, it's fine. You don't have to go through all this trouble."

"Nope," Lewis insisted with a mischievous smile. "We're going because I know how this will play out. You won't start your hair tomorrow morning, but you'll wait around all day. Then you'll end up letting the '30-minute' conditioner sit overnight, wasting another day. Tell me I'm wrong, sweetie?"

You rolled your eyes because you knew he was right. His persistence won. “Fine. Um, pass me a pair of sweatpants from my dresser and a hat,” you said while slipping Lewis’ sweatshirt over your head. This time, Lewis handed you your clothing. He placed a kiss on your forehead and remarked, “I know you better than yourself. I’ll be downstairs waiting. Also, the short braids look good on you.” After throwing on your sweatpants, you walked into the master bathroom and straight to the mirror. Lewis’ words about short braids rang in your head. Maybe I can throw some rubber bands on the end? I did cut the braids kind of straight, so I can get away for another week.

“Are you almost ready? We have like an hour before they close,” Lewis called out. You hadn’t realized how much time had passed but took it as a sign to not act on that idea.

"I can't believe we're going on a late-night Target run. We can just go back, it's not that big of a deal, Lewis," you attempted to persuade him, standing near the elevator. Lewis, rolling his eyes, responded, "You just don't want to take the elevator this late at night." He then grabbed your waist, pressing the button to bring the elevator up to your floor. He wasn't wrong, as he knew about your hatred for elevators. You would always opt for stairs, no matter how many flights there were. Muttering something under your breath, you clung onto Lewis, as the elevator doors closed. It was a sweet moment and you wanted to capture it. You took a photo of you two in the elevator mirror. The timing was perfect, just as the elevator stopped on the lobby floor. "Please send that to me," Lewis asked as soon as the doors opened.

After finding the hair products and a few other unnecessary items, you and Lewis reached the self-checkout. You made him bag the items, and you casually asked, "When was the last time you went to Target?" Lewis shook his head, holding back a laugh. "What do you think?" he replied, aware of your teasing. Just as you were about to pay with cash, Lewis stopped you. "What are doing? Don’t even think about it," Lewis said as he pulled out a credit card. “No, don’t let me pay with cash. You know stores can pull the name on credit cards, right? I’m probably being paranoid, but let me this time.” Realizing your reasoning was valid, Lewis quickly put his card away. "I'm treating you to dinner tomorrow. Don't even argue," he said. You laughed as the receipt printed out. "Ready?" Lewis asked, grabbing the bags and taking your hand.

"I think that was Lewis Hamilton," a stranger's voice said as you and Lewis made your way toward the exits.

Worries filled your mind, and you wanted to look up to Lewis for help, but you refrained from it. You feared any reaction would confirm their suspicion. "Just keep walking," Lewis whispered, tightening his grip on your hand. Neither of you spoke on the walk back to your house. You were concerned about being found out and didn’t want Lewis to know, but you were sure he felt the same way.

Silent in the elevator, you clung to Lewis, feeling his grip tighten ever so slightly. You glanced up and caught him gazing at the earlier photo. Breaking the silence, you acknowledged what had just happened. "We've been caught. You might as well post it." Lewis looked down at you, trying to read your face for any hesitation. "Wait, huh? Are you sure? It’s not delirious talk?" He questioned what you just told him. You shook your head, yes, trying not to laugh at his reaction.

Lewis looked over the photo multiple times, ensuring that no trace of your face or any identifiable features were visible. He continued to respect your boundaries and wanted you to keep as much anonymity as possible. Lewis posed one final question, ensuring this is what you wanted. Without hesitation, you clicked the "Add to Story" button as your answer, just as the elevator doors opened. “I love you so much,” Lewis said as you two stepped off of the elevator. “I love you more than you'll ever understand, Lewis.”

author's notes: second one shot i've written. i took a small snippet i got from a request and made this. 1.4K words and it's not proofread.

(im working on imagine part x. sorry it taking forever. hopefully this kinda makes up for it)

previous one shot: what did i get myself into with you?

#lewis hamilton x black reader #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton fanfiction #lewis hamilton imagines #lewis hamilton fanfics #black fanfiction #writinginfinite types #lewis hamilton one shot #lewis hamilton oneshot #lewis hamilton blurb #writinginfinite writes oneshots #lewis hamilton fluff

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