"Baby we're high on you."
Drug Dealer!Seonghwa x f!reader x Drug Dealer!Hongjoong
Shout-out to @seventhcallisto for helping me with the planning and writing of the smut scene <333 Do check out her writing!
Parts 3/3 of Drug Dealer! Seonghwa
>>Part 1:"She's a regular here..."
>>Part 2:"Use me like a drug!"
CW: threesome, unprotected sex (stay safe guys), switch!matz, drug dealers!matz, mentions of illegal activity, a little bxb action, lmk if I missed out anything!!
< [y/n]âs dms with Seonghwa >
Hwa ïżœïżœïżœïżœ: sweetheart?
Hwa đ: I kinda need need your help with something
Hwa đ: It's a big favourâŠ
you: What is it? You know I'll help however I can
Hwa đ: Well, Joong and I need a safe place to stay at
Hwa đ: That big raid on PARADIGM is happening soon, and many dealers are closing shop temporarily to avoid getting caught in the crossfire from the probable gang clash, MATZ included
Hwa đ: Do you think we could crash at your college dorm for a week or two?
Hwa đ: It's completely fine if it's too much of an inconvenience, of course!
you: Hwa, I'd love to have you guys stay over! My roommate is actually flying off tomorrow to visit her parents in her home country. She'll be gone for the next month, so you guys are free to stay longer than 2 weeks if you need to <3
Hwa đ: Thank you so much, my love đ«¶
< Present >
Your fuzzy socks swished against the floorboards when you scrambled over to the front door at the sound of the doorbell. Quickly pulling a stray lock of hair aside to make yourself look a little more presentable, you unlocked the door, coming face-to-face with your raven-haired boyfriend.
âSeonghwa!! You're here!â
You practically launched yourself into Seonghwa's arms, earning a chuckle from him. He tilted his head downwards to kiss your hair, wild hair strands tickling the tattooed skin on his neck. You hummed appreciatively in response, and snuggled into his snakeskin blazer. The two of you stayed this way for a moment. An annoyed voice from behind Seonghwa suddenly spoke up.
âIf you guys are done making me feel single, I'd like to be able to put down my things.â
You leaned around your boyfriend to see his best friend and partner-in-crime (literally), Hongjoong, standing behind him, the fur from his fluffy winter hat seemingly irritating his eyes. He stumbled slightly under the weight of the heavy duffle bag slung across his shoulder. âOh, sorryâ let me help you with that,â you mumbled. He sighed and shook his head. âNo, I'm sorry, you're the one helping us out here. I'm just feeling annoyed because of all the admin work we had to do for a fucking gang clash that we're not even involved in.â
You let him step around you to enter the apartment, while Seonghwa patted his best friend on the shoulder. âIt's for safety precautions, Joong. Closing MATZ temporarily is better than possibly losing it, we've talked about this.â Hongjoong huffed in response from the living room, a loud thump indicating that he had plopped himself on the couch there.
Once certain that Hongjoong was out of earshot, Seonghwa leaned downwards, gesturing to you to listen carefully.
âHongjoong's been more stressed from this whole ordeal. Usually he just has to deal with shipment schedules and arrangements, but the raid on PARADIGM gave him a lot more work to do, what with the postponing of shipments and smuggling tactics. He's also super ticked off about having to close shop, even though it's just temporary. Personally I feel like his current workload is equivalent to what I deal with on a daily basis, but, you know, to each his own.â
You listened attentively to his words, giggling quietly at Seonghwa's sassy remark at the end. He smiled and gave you a peck on the cheek.
âThanks again for letting us stay over, sweetheart. We'll look after ourselves and do some chores around the place while you're at lectures, hm?â
âThat would be so sweet of you. Though I'm honestly not complaining, since it means I get more time with youâŠâ
âMmm, I thought the same. But we,â Seonghwa's eyes lingered pointedly at the shorter man in your living room, âWon't cause any trouble. Promise.â
âI'll take your word for it, baby.â
Over the next few days, Seonghwa did indeed keep his promise of not causing any trouble. Emphasis on just Seonghwa. His best friend, on the other hand, was the exact opposite.
The living arrangements were as such: Seonghwa would sleep with you in your room, and Hongjoong would sleep on the couch in the living room. However, it wasn't long before you and Seonghwa found out that Hongjoong was secretly still doing deals with clients. And he was hiding his products in the crevices of your sofa. âThe grind never stops, I gotta make that bag,â he'd protested when you confronted him about a box of ice that was shoved under a couch cushion. But thanks to Seonghwa's unlikely, but still plausible, argument of getting your dormitory raided under police investigation for illegal activities, he was able to get the younger man to get rid of the goods. Also, it wouldn't have been a very good look on you if Yujin, your roommate, came back to find tiny jars of weed rolling around under the couch.
Eventually, to prevent him from pulling another similar stunt again, Seonghwa and you agreed to let him sleep in Yujin's room, which was right next to yours and would let Seonghwa keep an ear on his best friend's movements. Hongjoong had readily agreed to this. Now both the threat of getting into trouble with the cops and the threat of dealing with Kim âyour-couch-gave-me-a-fucking-backacheâ Hongjoong every morning were out of the way.
A few days passed after the new arrangements were made, and there was a particular morning that Hongjoong started acting weird around you.
It was the morning after the three of you had sat down together for a drink, celebrating you finally submitting a paper that had been torturing you for a week. Having gotten blackout drunk for the first time in a while, you didn't remember what had happened after waking up in the morning. You'd assumed that Seonghwa had just carried you back to bed after you'd fallen asleep from the alcohol (it wasn't the first time your boyfriend's had to deal with your drinking habits).
Yawning and scratching at your neck, you stepped out into the hallway, head aching from the hangover and stomach grumbling for something savoury. The sound of water running in the shared bathroom indicated that Seonghwa was taking his usual morning shower, so you decided to make breakfast for everyone. You stumbled slightly into the kitchen/dining room, surprised to see Hongjoong slumped over a cup of coffee at the kitchen island.
âJoong?â
The man jumped slightly at you calling him. He'd evidently been spacing out before you made your presence known. He dipped his head at you, his unusually jittery eyes avoiding contact with your own.
âGood morning y/nâŠâ
âWhy're you up so early? I usually don't see you awake and aware of your surroundings until lunchtime.â
âAh⊠I slept earlier than usual after that drink with you and Hwa. So I managed to get up earlier.â
Hongjoong took your hum as an approval. Sure, it was a lie, but you didn't know that. His breath hitched when you stretched your arms back, letting out a quiet moan at the same time.
âYou okay, Joong? Did you drink too much last night?â
âA-ah, yeahâŠuhm, in fact, I really need to go lie down right now.â
âOh, but I was about to make breakfast for usâŠâ
âThere's no need to make a portion for me! I'll join you and Seonghwa later for lunch, maybe.â
You pursed your lips at his hurried response, but shrugged it off. Hongjoong hopped off the elevated kitchen island stool, shuffling back down the hall and into his temporary room.
Once inside, he groaned and bit his lip, nearly drawing blood from how hard his teeth dug into his lip. Memories of the night before flashed through Hongjoong's mind. Lying alone in bed, shamelessly listening to you and his best friend fuck relentlessly on the other side the wall. Turns out you'd forgotten how horny excessive alcohol would make you. And the walls were, evidently, very very thin.
Hongjoong whined pathetically at the raging boner in his shorts, which had formed when you were talking to him in the kitchen. How was he supposed to face you after overhearing you at your most vulnerable state? How could he, after hearing your whimpers and cries of âSeonghwa, harder~â, his best friend's name that slipped out of your mouth like a prayer? How could he, after he had snuck a hand down his shorts, stroking himself to the rhythm of your melodious moans? He swore under his breath, making a promise to himself to just avoid talking to you alone until the gang clash was over, and he could finally leave.
That, however, proved very hard to do, especially with an intuitive man like Park Seonghwa in the premises. Being the observant person he is, he quickly picked up on Hongjoong's closed-off body language and evasive responses to your small talk. He immediately figured out exactly what was bothering Hongjoong, too. After all, on that night, Seonghwa was drunk but still aware enough to know that the younger man had probably overheard him fucking his needy girlfriend into the mattress. The only difference was that while it bothered Hongjoong and made him all flustered and embarrassed, it had actually been a major turn-on for Seonghwa himself. There had been plenty of instances when he had made out with or had sex with you in his office, the premise of possibly getting caught by his business partner always spurring him on. Sadly, Hongjoong had never actually walked in on it happening. However, staying in the same house as the two of you made it bound to happen. And it did nothing but excite Seonghwa. He would surely exploit this.
âââ
Nearly 2 weeks into his and Seonghwa's stay at your dorm, Hongjoong laid across the bed, mindlessly reloading his messages. He groaned. Never would he have known that he'd ever actually miss the usual stream of texts from clients ordering from MATZâs supply. It was quiet. Too quiet. He hopped up from the bed, opting to go watch a movie in the living room to pass some time. You and Seonghwa had gone out for a late-night convenience store run, and had taken Hongjoong's request for a dessert.
Plopping down on the couch, Hongjoong winced at the memory of sleepless nights on the cramped cushions. Sure, now he was sleeping in an actual bed, but with the things he's overheard next to his temporary room, was it really any better than the lumpy couch? His mind began wandering at this thought again. He bit his lip shamefully when he imagined your muffled moaning and whines from that night. He stared at the growing tent in his sweats, contemplating silently on whether he should do something about it.
Just as he was reaching for the boner between his legs, the familiar clatter and squeak of a key came from the door. Hongjoong quickly shoved a cushion over his lap and pointed the remote at the TV, playing a random movie to look occupied.
âJoong! Hwa and I are back!â
âAnd we got that rice pudding you asked for~â
You and Seonghwa walked into the living room, shrugging off jackets that were slightly wet from rainwater. Had it been raining? Hongjoong was too preoccupied with his thoughts to notice. He smiled gratefully at Seonghwa when he handed him a plastic bag, no doubt containing his beloved pudding. Hongjoong's eyes momentarily flickered up to the âMATZâ tattoo scrawled across his best friend's neck.
Drops of sweat and rainwater trickled down the blurred black lines and Seonghwa's dewy skin. Seonghwa was panting slightly, a red tinge on his pale face, possibly from running in the rain earlier on. Hongjoong's mind wandered again. Does Seonghwa pant like that and look like that when he fucks you? Would you kiss against his sweaty neck when he has you bent in half?
âJoong? I asked you if you need a spoonâŠâ
Hongjoong snapped out of his thoughts when he heard Seonghwa speaking. He nodded quickly and mumbled a âyeahâ, still avoiding eye contact with both Seonghwa and you. What the fuck? Why was he daydreaming about the both of you now? Maybe the lack of activity and work was really driving him mad. He didn't notice you standing at the nearby kitchen island, exchanging mischievous glances with Seonghwa who was leaning against the couch backing.
âHey Hongjoong, have you been doing alright?â
âH..huh? What? Why are you asking?â
âYou've been so closed off lately. Both Hwa and I have noticed it.â
Your voice was laced with sympathy, hiding your intentions. Hongjoong sighed tiredly and scratched at his neck. You made eye contact with your boyfriend, fighting the urge to smile at his knowing glance.
âUh, yeah, I'm good⊠probably just getting used to the new sleeping arrangements.â
âNo way, you miss sleeping on that crappy, old couch? I didn't take you for a masochist, Joong.â
Walking over to sit next to the younger man, Seonghwa prodded teasingly at him. You slid over and joined the duo on the couch, sitting on Hongjoong's other side. Hongjoong was still oblivious to yours and his best friend's movements, his fists clutched tightly on the cushion covering his rock-hard dick.
âI'm good⊠Just a little stressed about not being able to work, probably.â
âAhhh, I see~ You must be really tense.â
âMhm, look at him, Hwa! His shoulders are so stiff and tight.â
Without warning, you reached out and put your hands on Hongjoong's shoulders, giving an experimental squeeze. What neither you nor Seonghwa expected, however, was for a deep, drawn-out moan to escape from Hongjoong's lips.
Hongjoong's eyes widened and filled with panic at the realisation of what he did. Waving his hands frantically at yours and Seonghwa's blank stares, he jumped up from the couch and started talking at what seemed like a hundred syllables-per-second.
âOh fuck oh shit I'm so sorry- I don't know why I made that noise, I've just been so tense and like stressed and shit- honestly speaking my shoulders are really sensitive, too, so like-â
The couch cushion slipped off his lap in his frenzy. Unbeknownst to him, this made you and Seonghwa notice the raging boner in his sweats. Hongjoong didn't even clock the knowing glance you and your boyfriend shared, instead continuing to ramble a stream of apologies.
âHongjoong.â
â--I know, I know, it was extremely inappropriate for me to fucking moan in front of your girlfriend, Hwa!! Please forget what you justââ
âKim Hongjoong!! I know you heard us fucking the other night!â
Both yours and Hongjoong's eyes grew as wide as saucers.
âBaby, what⊠what d'you mean?â
Your lips trembled, a deep blush appearing on your face as you hesitated to speak up. Your boyfriend had told you that Hongjoong had been sexually frustrated recently, but he'd conveniently left out the part about him overhearing the two of you having sex. Wait, was that why Hongjoong was horny in the first place?
Seonghwa offered you a soft, reassuring glance in response, the subtle clench of your thighs not going unnoticed by his sharp eyes. He quickly turned his gaze back to the man standing dumbfounded in front of the two of you.
He had never seen his best friend look so taken aback, flustered and embarrassed, all at the same time. Hongjoong's face was paused on an expression that screamed âoh-fuck-oh-fuck-oh-shitâ. Seonghwa maintained a stern look, with you shifting uncomfortably behind him. The room suddenly felt very, very warm.
âSeonghwa, look, IâŠ.â
Hongjoong finally opened his mouth to speak, but he was cut off almost immediately.
âDo you wanna have sex with us?â
Your mouth dropped open in a silent scream. Hongjoong stared, bewildered, at Seonghwa, wondering if all the weed he did was finally catching up to him.
âIâ excuse me?â
âYeah, Hwa, what the fuck..?â
Seonghwa scoffed at both of you. He arched his neck onto the back of the couch, the tattoo on his neck seemingly dancing seductively against his skin as he did so. He slid a veiny hand down to your exposed thigh, cold rings against your skin earning a shuddering sigh from you. He smirked when he saw Hongjoong's boner twitch in his sweatpants.
âDon't act like you guys haven't thought about it! Hongjoong, I've seen how your eyes linger on my sweetheart's pretty tits when she wears her tank tops around the house. I'm not blind, I always catch you checking out my ass and my neck, too. You want both of us, don't you? And Y/N, right now, I can see you squeezing your thighs.â
Hongjoong watched with bated breath as Seonghwa's finger slid into the opening of your shorts. You jumped a little when his thick fingertip made contact with your soaking-wet panties.
âFuck, babygirl, you got turned on from knowing that my best friend heard me fucking you into the sheets? You're so wet for us, so dirty, hm?â
You whined at his words, body instinctively leaning closer to him, before dazedly nodding in acknowledgement. Seonghwa smiled at this. He really knew your body and your kinks like the back of his goddamn hand. He then whipped his head at Hongjoong, who was slowly inching away, evidently debating between staying to see what was going to happen, or changing his name and fleeing the country.
âSo? What d'you say to a threesome?â
âIâŠâ
Hongjoong's eyes darted uncertainly to you. You were leaning against Seonghwa, eyes glazed over and looking very needy. Seonghwa cooed at you, at the same time reassuring the hesitant man.
âDon't worry. The two of us have talked about having sex together with another person. She's honestly as into it as I am, and who else would be a better candidate than my hot best friend?â
Hongjoong bit his lip in deep thought. Despite his years of friendship with Seonghwa, he did often think of the two of you at the same time, especially on those lonely nights in his bed. Even before he overhead you fucking. After all, you were a very hot couple. He attempted to reason with himself, taking a brief moment to weigh the pros and cons. But his dick was so hard it felt like it was gonna burst. And this could be the opportunity of a lifetime. Heck, it was practically being served to him on a silver-fucking-platter.
âFuck, man, let's do it.â
âĄâĄâĄ
Seonghwaâs tough hands had gently spread your legs apart for Hongjoong. The other waited with bated breath when he finally got a good look at your damp panties. âFuckâ he hissed under his breath, and Seonghwa's lip quirked up into a smirk. Peering back up to look into your dazed eyes, Seonghwa parted one of his hands from your thighs to gently skim his fingers over your slit, causing your thighs to jolt. âSeonghwa~â you whined gently, turning your head into the pillow. âYou're so wet babygirlâ he murmured, glancing to Hongjoong who had been sitting there, his hands balled into his lap to keep them to himself.
âGo on joong, touch her,â he retreated his hand after skimming your clit through the fabric, another low moan falling from your lips. âAnd you, baby, don't move an inchâ Seonghwa's voice spoke up once more, in a sterner tone this time. Hongjoong didn't have to be told twice, with a single look to confirm, he shifted to laying between your wide hips, guiding your legs over his shoulders.
You were soaked. Evidence lingered on the expansion of your panties, a dark patch of wetness that Hongjoong wanted nothing more than to indulge himself in. Taste and get lost in. His fingers parted your folds through the fabric, thumbing your clit gently as he ran his fingers around your slick. You breathily whimpered, already tired of the teasing - but willing to take it slow for Hongjoong.
âYou look so fucking pretty,â Seonghwa groaned by your ear, lying next to you to hold your hips down. He knew you tended to get a little overzealous with your movements. You whimpered at the praise, guiding your hand through your boyfriend's hair to tug him on your mouth, a mess of tongue and teeth, the slight chill of his grillz, even when he pulled away to begin kissing along your neck. Generously pulling your shirt over your chest so he could shove his hands into the warmth of your breasts, kneading the flushed flesh.
âNot even a bra, fuck, wanted to play with these pretty tits as soon as I saw you in this tight ass shirt,â he hummed into your neck. Before you could reply, Hongjoong placed an open kiss on your clit through your panties, making you jolt.
Hongjoongâs tongue swept out to lick up the length of your cunt, humming at the taste of you, his nose ever so gently bumping against your clit every time he swipes through your folds, wetting you with his saliva and collecting all of the slick you've produced so far. A trail of heat building in your core from the foreplay, the rough pads of Seonghwa's expert fingers pinching and twirling your nipples has you clenching around nothing. With a whine, your head falls to the bed. âHwa- joong- please,â you called out, needing to feel something in your pussy or else you'd go insane.
Or worse, beg for it. Hongjoongâs lashes parted to glance at Seonghwa. Lust, dark and heavy swirled in his eyes as soon as they clashed. Joong couldn't help but grind his hips forward into the bed, his cock catching at the front of his sweats, he swirls his thumb over your clit once again to apply more pressure. Watching Seonghwa squeeze once on your tits, exhorting another distorted sound from your lungs. âAre you gonna let Hongjoong play with that pretty pussy of yours, darling? Put his mouth and fingers all over you?â He murmurs, breath fanning over your ear.
You nodded your head eagerly, whimpering under your breath and shifting your thighs at the thought. The anticipation building up within you. Seonghwa's hand left your breast to grab your chin, pinching it enough so that your eyes popped open to see what he was doing.
Confidence was in every corner of Seonghwa's eyes, a dominance that would eat you alive. âSay it, sweetheart.â He purred, dropping his hand to crane your neck to look at Hongjoong, still rubbing circles into your sensitive bud.
His eyes - equally blown and lustful as Seonghwa's - were trained directly on you, your breath caught. âHongjoong.. joong will you please touch my pretty pussy? Please.â You spoke with clearness, an eagerness only a person as demanding as Seonghwa would get out of you.
Hongjoong didn't need to be told twice.
He immediately dived in, tugging aside the crotch of your panties before attaching his mouth to your pussy. A loud moan tore from your throat when he began lapping at your already soaking folds. Surely your neighbours would've heard that, and would be complaining to you the next morning, but you could care less. He slurped relentlessly at your wetness, humming happily into your cunt, all while you squirmed and let out little âah-ahâs for the two men. Music to their ears.
You cried out when Hongjoong's finger prodded the rim of your pussy, helplessly clawing at his hand to stuff his fingers in as far as possible. He scoffed under his breath, taken aback by your urgency.
âShe's needy, isn't she, Joong?â
âY-yeah, fuckâŠâ
Seonghwa smirked at his best friend's reply, opting to tease him further when a mischievous remark came to mind.
âBet you think about her crying for your cock, huh?â
Hongjoong blushed furiously at Seonghwa's cheeky accusation.
âS-shut up, man!â
He rolled his eyes at Seonghwa before stuffing his index and middle fingers into you. This pulled out a needy moan from you, twisting your fists into the sheets at the sensation of Hongjoong's fingers caressing your pussy walls. He couldn't help but groan at how your body just yearned for more and more of his touch. You clenched around on his fingers, cumming faster than expected. Hongjoong couldn't help but stare at you; breasts rising and falling from your orgasm, a thin layer of sweat that had formed on your dewy skin. He knew he just had to give you more.
Hongjoong looked nervously at Seonghwa, who was still laying leisurely across the bed and caressing your skin.
âSeonghwa⊠May IâŠ.â
âHm?â
Hongjoong tried to speak up to the older man, but his words trailed off once more. Seonghwa knew what he was going to ask. And he already knew he would allow whatever it was. But was he going to let Hongjoong do it without saying it out aloud? No way in hell.
The prolonged eye contact between the two men made Hongjoong understood what Seonghwa was asking for. Sucking in a deep breath, he finally spoke.
âMay I⊠Can I fuck her?â
Seonghwa's lips curled into a satisfied smile and he nodded, pleased with himself for having gotten Hongjoong to speak up for once.
Hongjoong fumbled with his belt, slipping it off with a click and pulling down his pants and boxers at once. His cock was rock hard and already leaking pre-cum. Even in your dazed state, you still marvelled over how girthy it was. It was not as long as your boyfriend's, but it was plenty thick and would definitely stretch you out. You whimpered when Hongjoong rubbed his tip over your entrance. He groaned at how your slick essentially served as a natural lube for him. Seonghwa cooed at you when you grabbed his hand for support.
âAww, you wanna be stretched out by my best friend's cock, my love?â
âM-mhm, p-please~â
âIt's his dick, not mine, sweetheart. Tell Hongjoong what you want.â
You mewled at Seonghwa's stern tone and turned shyly to the man standing between your legs. Sliding a hand down in between your thighs, you used your digits to stretch open your sopping pussy.
âPlease fuck me, Joongie~â
If it was even remotely possible, Hongjoong felt himself grow even harder at your voice. How could someone be so fucking perfect? Who was he to deny you of your desires.
âSince you asked so nicely~â
Hongjoong chuckled and sank his dick into your hole, the wind in his lungs almost being knocked out from how perfectly warm you felt. He grunted and knitted his eyebrows in frustration, hips twitching slightly in place. It was taking everything in him not to just start thrusting into you at an animalistic pace. You sighed breathily when his girthy member pushed into you, whining quietly while trying to get used to his size. The entire time, Seonghwa was peppering kisses on your hand and rubbing his thumb soothingly over your forehead.
âThat's it, love, you're doing so good for him, hm? It's almost like you were made for cock, baby, you look so precious right now.â
Your boyfriend hummed sweet nothings into your ear as you took deep breaths, your body slowly accommodating to take Hongjoong's thickness. When you were sufficiently stretched out enough, you nodded at Hongjoong, who gladly obliged to start moving.
The room filled with your whiny moans, mixed with Hongjoong's breathy grunts. Seonghwa watched on with a lustful gaze at the scene taking place before him; his best friend and business partner, rocking in and out of his sweet, beloved girlfriend's dripping pussy. He couldn't have been more turned on. He bit his lip at the sight of your cunt stretching out everytime Hongjoong pushed his dick into it, again and again. Your slick leaked out around his girthy member, giving it a sheen under the dim bedroom lights.
Seonghwa's eyes perked up when he noticed Hongjoong was starting to move faster. His thrusts grew more erratic and uneven, eliciting cries of âJ-joongie wait!!â from you. Hongjoong was in the zone, his head thrown back and whines growing louder as his hips did anything but stop. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that he was about to cum.
This didn't sit right with Seonghwa. He could tell you hadn't cum yet, so why was Hongjoong rushing for his own orgasm already? Clearly he needed to be taught a lesson.
Seonghwa quickly got up and got behind Hongjoong, pulling him out of you and tossing him effortlessly onto the bed. You whimpered at the sudden loss of warmth, and Hongjoong let out a yelp of dissatisfaction. But before he could complain, Seonghwa held him down by his thighs and started furiously jerking off his leaky cock with his free hand.
Hongjoong's protests turned to desperate whines, his breathing growing increasingly turbulent, as his best friend twisted and pulled at his twitching cock. When he finally released, cumming all over his stomach and Seonghwa's hand. Seonghwa smiled, clearly pleased with himself. He jeered snarkily at Hongjoong.
âLooks like your stamina for fucking is the same as your stamina for your workload~â
Seonghwa then lifted his slender hand to his mouth, making it a point to slowly lick off Hongjoong's thick cum while making direct eye contact with him. The younger man watched with flickering eyelids, biting his lip so hard that it almost drew blood.
You watched the whole scene unfold with hooded eyes. Despite being upset over not being able to orgasm, you couldn't help but clench your thighs at the fucked-out look on Hongjoong's face.
After getting off Hongjoong, Seonghwa slid over to you, helping you to sit up and kissing you tenderly on your neck. Catching a look at your pouty expression, he murmured a quick apology and winked at you, before turning back to Hongjoong.
He'd finally recovered from his release, and was now looking irritably at Seonghwa.
âWhat the fuck was that for?â
âMy sweetheart was nowhere near cumming, yet you were already chasing your own orgasm. Talk about selfish, Hongjoong.â
âDudeâŠâ
Your boyfriend chuckled at the younger man's defeated body language.
âIt's fine. We all make mistakes,â (cue Hongjoong looking offended as fuck) âLet me show you how to actually please an angel like her.â
Seonghwa laid you back onto the sheets, his eyes searching yours for any form of denial. Still such a gentleman even after he'd watched his best friend pound you like there was no tomorrow. You nodded eagerly, eager - heck, desperate - to give him any number of orgasms at this point. âMy sweet girl,â he chuckled lightly into your ear, kissing down the valley of your breasts while slipping off his belt and pants.
You drooled at the sight of his cock lying against your thigh. No matter how many times you'd seen it, you could never get over how long and pretty it was. Flushed with beads of precum leaking from the tip, poised at an angle that hit your g-spot everytime without fail.
As Seonghwa lined himself up at your twitching hole, he turned to face Hongjoong, who was sitting on the other end of the bed and watching the two of you intently. His dick was already rock hard again. Seonghwa rubbed his hand up your thigh lovingly, actions clashing with the stern tone he would use to address the other man.
âWatch and learn, Hongjoong.â
He leisurely rolled his hips into yours, lengthy dick already rubbing against that sweet spot in you. You jolted at the sensation, hands immediately flying up to grip at his toned arms.
âAh- ah, Seonghwa~!â
He grinned at how fast you were reacting for him, before setting a steady pace and leaving love bites all over your chest. He reached up to push your legs over his shoulders, strong grip leaving behind blurry red marks against your thighs. Your mind grew fuzzy within mere minutes. It was amazing how well your boyfriend knew your body. Your hands left his arms to curl into his hair, tugging lightly at his short, cute ponytail for support. His heavenly groans and your rhythmic moans mixed together like the symphony of an orchestra. Hongjoong could only watch and tug lightly at his dick, unsure of whose position he wanted to be in at that moment.
In between his heavy thrusts, Seonghwa made eye contact with you. He smiled radiantly, making your heart skip a beat. That loving, heartfelt look in his sparkly eyes and the expert movement of his hips pushed you over the edge. Your hips canted against his pelvis, orgasm crashing through you like a tidal wave.
âS-seonghwa, I-!â
You let out a high-pitched mewl, body shaking as you creamed around your lover's dick. A white ring quickly formed around the base of his still-hard cock. Seonghwa hummed satisfactorily as he swiped at your dripping release and stuck his coated finger into your mouth. You gladly obliged, sucking on his fingertip, tasting the orgasm you'd given to him. The hazy look in your eyes only steered him on even more.
Seonghwa leaned down, voice barely above a whisper.
âThink you can give me another one, love? Maybe stick Joongieâs cock in your mouth while you're at it? After all, he didn't get to finish in you~â
âHwaaâŠ.but only you can cum in me..?â
Pride bubbled in Seonghwa's chest at your response.
âMmm, that's right, baby. But we have to give him some sort of consolation prize, especially since he's been so patient.â
Hongjoong's whiny voice suddenly cut him off.
âFuck, the two of you are so frustratingly hot, but weren't you supposed to help me?? My balls are about to fucking burst, and you having your little moment isn't really helping.â
Seonghwa clicked his tongue, sighing dramatically at the man's impatience. He quickly made eye contact with you, smiling when you nodded, a green light for the night to continue.
âYou're so needy, Joong⊠get your ass over here.â
You'd never seen anyone get up so fast and run over. Seonghwa sat on the edge of the mattress, directing for you to sit on his thighs, your back flush against his chest. Excitement tingled in your core when he lifted you easily, sinking you onto his erect dick. You closed your eyes for a moment, getting used to his lengthy cock resting in you. When you came to, Hongjoong stood in front of you, his own heavy, leaky dick out on display. His expression was a mix of relief and desperation.
âYou ready?â
âYeah, man, fuck, let's just get to it-â
âShut up! I was talking to Y/n.â
Before you could giggle at the two men's bickering, Hongjoong shoved his dick into your mouth. You could feel it pulsating against the opening of your throat. Taking a deep breath through your nose, you began bobbing your head up and down on him. Hongjoong moaned shakily, hands finding the base of your neck for support.
âShe's good at sucking cock, isn't she?â
Your boyfriend sounded proud. Hongjoong could only groan in response, nodding eagerly at the same time. Seonghwa quietly enjoyed the scene for a short while before he started to thrust lightly into you, veiny hands squeezing the plush flesh of your ass. You gasped around Hongjoong's girthy member, your whimpers sending vibrations through him. He couldn't help but shudder at the sight before him; his best friend's cute girlfriend expertly deepthroating him, while said best friend sat below her and grinded into her plush ass. Your plump lips enveloped Hongjoong's cock again and again, allowing him to fully enjoy the view. Watching the furrow of Seonghwa's eyebrows and beads of sweat dripping down his forehead was the cherry on top. Who knew such perfect scenery existed?
It wasn't long before both men's movements began speeding up. You whined pathetically, trying to keep up. Granted, they were both sensitive from the previous rounds, but so were you.
You began bouncing your ass on Seonghwa, while simultaneously gulping on Hongjoong. The three of you let out increasingly loud sounds that echoed around the room; Hongjoong's grunting, Seonghwa's frantic pants, and your desperate sobs. They blended together with the sounds of skin slapping and slurping to form a melody, one so lewd yet so exquisite, merely listening to it would be as good as taking an aphrodisiac.
Soon enough, Hongjoong climaxed, hot cum so thick and copious that some leaked out the sides of your mouth. You hit your third orgasm of the night, body convulsing at the overstimulation. Seonghwa came last, his breath hitching as he jerked his hips one more time into your cunt. Your mouth slipped off Hongjoong's dick, and you let your head fall back onto your boyfriend's shoulder. You dazedly swallowed the remaining cum on your tongue, making sure to make eye contact with Hongjoong in the process. You didn't bother to get off Seonghwa's dick, opting to sit on it and bask in the warmth that was his milky release leaking out of your used cunt.
The 3 of you panted heavily for a few minutes, clearly still processing one of, if not the best orgasm any of you had ever shared with another person. In this case, your first orgasm that you'd shared with 2 other very attractive people. You eventually spoke up, getting the attention of both men.
âDid⊠Did I do good for both of you?â
Seonghwa and Hongjoong turned your way, with a wobble in your voice you asked - struggling with your throat from the amount of dick you've taken.
âGood? Fuck, baby, we're high on you.â
Hongjoong and Seonghwa unexpectedly spoke at the same time, making you giggle at how in sync they were. Seonghwa glanced up at Hongjoong, who was still coming down from his high.
âYou finally relaxed, man?â
âMm, yeah, Joongie, you were the whole reason we even did thisâŠâ you trailed off, pushing your hair out of your face gently.
âYou bet I am,â Hongjoong sighed contentedly, before adding on, âFuck, I don't even feel like going back to work anymore.. â
âThen I'd better not find any more weed in my couch! You have something else to think about, now.â
Hongjoong's eyebrows raised at your remark - disappearing into his sweaty bangs - surprised by your energy level.
âAren't you exhausted?? You just took 2 dicks, you should be knocked out by now.'' Seonghwa chuckled at Hongjoong's remark, swiping his hand across your sweaty back.
âOooo, he's got a point, sweetheartâŠI bet you could go for another round~â
You groaned and pulled off of Seonghwa, throwing yourself onto the other side of the bed. You pulled the sheets tight over your body, but not before shoving a pillow at the two men.
âForget it!! You guys are mean. I think Joong rubbed off on you, Hwa!â You whined, clenching your thighs tightly- fluids still dripping from your core, despite the urge to roll over from the men - Seonghwa was already tilting towards you. Lightly palming your hip with a grin.
âCome on sweetheart, let's get you washed up."
Author's note:
Omgomg my first ever collab with another writer ahhh đ the two of us worked very hard on this fic!! I hope you enjoyed it <33
Taglist !!: @luckyblue98 @dazzlingstarrs @spideyyoung @st4rhwa @stolasisyourparent @peppermintlattelover @bincxtesworld @mxnsxngie @wisejudgedragonhairdo @vixensss @ygswl @archaios @lunaclipse @beargyuuzz @nvdhrzn @puppyminnnie @crybabyzo3y @lolno-2323223 @staytiny816 @hwasfavgf @novocainecoon
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Covet: Chapter 9 (Part 2 of 2)
Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader
Covet Summary:
Life was good. No, life was great.Â
Was.Â
Until.
Jake Kiszka crashed into the picture.
You welcomed him into your lifeâyour home.Â
Yes, he was your best friendâs twin. But, he was also the one who would end up disrupting your whole world with his attitude, his troubles, and the annoyingly natural way he lured you in.Â
Jake Kiszka came with so much you really didnât want.
At least thatâs what you tried to convince yourself.
Warnings: MINORS DNI (18+); angst; fainting; regurgitating profusely; nausea; extreme feelings of stress and anxiety; extreme feelings of sadness; abandonment issues; allusions to a dark, forgotten childhood; therapy; mentions of EMDR therapy; prenatal visits; arguing/raising of voices; heart issues addressed (POTs); use of heart monitors; hemoglobin kits mentioned; emergency room visit and all that might entail (e.r. visit is a longer one, so strap in); revisited, vivid memories of sex; jealousy; body changes as a result of pregnancy; negative self-talk; looooots of baby talk; pregnancy hormones (and this is nothing compared to what's to come - that's all i'll say); reader still being sad while she checks Jake out; oh! and Joshua Michael Kiszka being the perfect angel he is <3 (as usual, PLEASE lmk if i missed anything that is triggering to you!)
Chapter Word Count: 32.6k+ (what the actual-?)
a/n: hi my lovely readers <333 i am deeply apologetic for the time you waited to receive this chapter, but i hope the length (holy fucking shit, btw) will make up for it. i really will try my damndest to not take almost a month next time.....
BUT, as you guys have learned, my chapters are very rarely "short" in length, so you can rest assured i'm quite literally busting ass trying to write the chapters in the near-month span of time between updates. lol <3 (while also doing real-time life w a job and family to tend to every single day)
this story is my baby that has been outlined for months in a google doc and i refuse to release chapters until they're completed with everything i deem necessary to include. i promise it's all for the good of the story and for the ultimate enjoyment of the readers (you!). <3 i'm never purposefully leaving you hangin', babes <3 ily all more than i'll ever be able to properly express. đ«¶đ»
special shout out to my sis for being my go-to beta, ear, advice-giver, helper, AND EVERYTHING IN-BETWEEN when it comes to all of the silly little stories i write. @joshym. you are my favorite. you know that. and i love you. so fucking much. forever the daniel to my samuel :)
and another shoutout to my wonderful pal @welightthefire - GOD, i love you. y'all, this lady has been my main source for all things baby related and i'd be hurting without her help on alllll things baby and pregnancy. <3 babe, you are the bomb and you better KNOW IT.
Please enjoy the playlist as you read đ€ (fr, i listen to it nonstop when i write this.... all of the songs are pertinent to the story and aid in telling it - either already or eventually.)
Covet Masterlist
-đŒđŒđŒ-
âThe covetous person is full of fear; and he or she will who lives in fear will ever be a slave.â
-Horace
-đŒđŒđŒ-
Your stomach dipped all the way to the heels of your feet, your body feeling a rush of equal parts cold and hot.Â
There were no words spoken for several moments, and almost as soon as youâd said it, Josh had turned to face the front. Jaw clenched tighter than youâd ever seen it, he put the car in drive as his hands wrapped tightly around the wheel â 10 and 2. His back was ramrod straight and his jaw didnât stop flexing as you swiveled to sit to look out the windshield alongside him.
Your stomach was churningâ for multiple reasons. On top of the anxiety in the moment, you also hadnât been eating much as of late. Your appetite was almost nothing â save for pickles and Cosmic-fucking-Brownies.Â
It had blossomed seemingly out of nowhere.Â
After your night of Mac and Cheese with Jake, you had started borderline craving it afterwardsâalongside the brownies and pickles. But, when youâd made some for yourself, you came to realize, with the first bite to your mouth. . . That Mac and Cheese was no longer your friend.Â
Although, it had made very close friends with the toilet, as youâd bent over it hurling until every last bit of the yellow food deposited in front of your sweaty face. Â
Surprisingly, youâd still been hungry after puking. . . but unfortunately, everything else youâd tried to eat either ended up in the toilet or in the trash from the smell alone.Â
And, to your utter demise, Cosmic Brownies had been ruined that day, too. Their contents eventually met the toilet when youâd tried to snack on one that same evening to fill your empty stomach.
Suffice to say, the nausea had started to kick your ass and this particularly tense situation was doing you no favors.
All you could do was steal glances at him, awkwardly, for the thirty or so minutes it took to get to the womenâs clinic. He wasnât talking at all which was so unlike Josh. Youâd never gone this long being in the same space as him where he wasnât talking. The man loved to talk. And you loved to listen and engage.
But that was not the energy that was transpiring between you two.
You would have normally put on music to fill the hollow, painfully silent space. But, you couldnât bring yourself to move, much less put on music that would just add to the discomfort that youâd created with your confession. And, honestly, it felt like you were already making too much noise every time you took a deep breath.Â
Besides stealing the occasional peek at him, you watched the multiple semis that passed you, and the forests that lined the highway, full of leaves with changing colors.Â
And Josh just drove. Just fucking drove. And, even worse, he drove normally. Better than normal, actually. Unlike ever before, he was following the highwayâs speed limit, all while not getting emotional anytime someone pulled an asshole move on the road.Â
He seemed to be putting every bit of his energy into three things: focusing on the road, keeping his jaw clenched tight, and not moving his hands from 10 and 2 unless he had to look over his shoulder to switch lanes.
Once you pulled up to parallel park on a busier street in SoHo, youâd made up your mind to tell Josh to just drive back and that you could hitch a ride with an Uber.Â
You didnât want to make him feel any more uncomfortable than he apparently already felt.Â
For one, he didnât need to be here if he didnât want to be. And secondly, you couldnât fucking handle any more right now. The whole point of him being with you was because you were already fucking stressed before youâd ever even told him. And at this point, it seemed youâd been correct in your assumption of him being angry.Â
But right now, his reaction didnât fucking matter. This appointment mattered. Your baby mattered. You needed to be in some sort of decent mind space before you stepped foot into the place. And whether or not that included him was relative to his response when you informed him of this.
You breathed in and out heavily, shutting your eyes as you did so. Once you opened them, you pressed the unlock button on your door, signaling to him that you were ready to get the show on the road. You didnât have time to fucking sit here and let him sulk.Â
Releasing a deep breath once more, you finally turned to look at him once youâd unbuckled. Then, once facing him, you mustered the firmest tone possible at that moment. âJosh,â you started, sharply. He blinked slowly and flexed the muscle in his jaw once more before he turned to make eye contact with you.Â
Fuck. His eyes. . . Was he angry? Sad? Indifferent? You couldnât fucking tell. Youâd never seen him so guarded. God, you shouldnât have invited him to this. You really had started to hope that he would react more like Elsie and Gia thought he would.Â
But he hadnât, and you were faced with whatever the fuck this attitude was that he had chosen to wear.Â
Once it was obvious he was going to look at you as you spoke, you continued. âYou donât have to go in there with me,â you began, firm yet empathetic. âI wonât make you. I will go in on my own. I have to. For my own reasons, I have to keep this appointment today. But you donât have to come in if you would rather not,â you stated, steady and sure. He was free to fucking leave if he wanted. âYou can fucking leave. I will not make you go in if youâre angry or upset or uncomfortable. Iâll get a damn Uber and you can drive back to the complex to get your car.â
He seemed to come back to the present, blinking several times and shaking his head. He rubbed one hand down his face, just as Jake did when he would get stressed.Â
The similar reaction made your tummy feel fuzzy and desperate for the security you needed at the moment. You needed someone right now. Even if you were willing to do this on your own (which you were), you could really use his support at the moment.Â
You unlocked the doors once more, making sure they were ready to go before you reached for the handle.Â
Resolutely, you looked over your shoulder before you addressed him once more. âIâm sorry that I made you angrâ.â
âIâm not angry,â he finally said softly. After clearing his throat to talk properly again after not talking for so long, he continued. âIâm shocked andâ Iâm just feeling a lot of things,â he iterated, his eyes begging you to understand. And, you did. âBut I am honored that you wanted me to come with you today,â he said, his face transforming to once again show you your Josh. He was back. Grabbing your hand, he finished his thought. âAnd I would love to go to this appointment with you.â
The tears that filled your eyes and trailed down your cheeks one by one couldnât be helped.Â
âI couldnât have done this today without you,â you said, voice cracking with emotion. You popped the glovebox to get a napkin to wipe your face, not looking at him as you kept on. âIâve been so scared for this, and the only personâ besides Elsieâ that I wanted here with me, was you.â
He reached over to hold your hand, and you tucked the napkin into your lap for backup when you caught his eye again. Before he spoke again, one tear escaped his eye. With one hand lightly squeezing yours, the other dashed up to wipe at the new wetness under his eye.Â
Then, after shaking his head, he raised a curious eyebrow to address you. âWait,â he said wetly before clearing his throat. âIs this your first appointment?â
âYes,â you blinked, a blush skirting over your cheeks. âIâve been in denial of it all until super recently.â You sniffed, feeling a couple more tears escape your eye at the topic of conversation and finally talking to Josh about it. It was, admittedly, a lot. âIt took me a hot fucking second to come to terms with all of it, so Iâm just now at the first appointment.â
He nodded, brows still furrowed as he looked down briefly before finding your eyes again. âHow far along are you?â
âI think Iâm technically like eleven-ish weeks,â you replied, doing quick math in your head. âI would need to look at my app to give you an exact number. Normally I have it right at the front of my brain, but my nerves are fucking wracked right now,â you bashfully swept your eyes over your hands, interlocked on the armrest. âFor obvious reasons.â
You heard him hum and took that as your sign to look at him again. He was watching you carefully, quizzically. His eyes squinted as you, yet again, flushed under his stare.Â
âWhat?!â You hastily spit out, nervous.Â
âDoes he. . .?â
Knowing exactly what he was asking, you quickly shut down his train of thought. âJake doesnât know,â you informed him, tucking your chin as you quietly repeated yourself. âHe doesnât know.â
âAlright,â he responded, not questioning you in the slightest. Your eyes flashed up to meet his: the color of cocoa and sparkling. âDoes Elsie?â
Without any words, you gave him a look that answered his pondering thoughts.Â
He chuckled, and you joined him by huffing a little laugh, just under your breath. You felt your cheeks loosen with an easy smile. Your shoulders were relaxing more and more by the second. The familiar, natural sense of joviality with him was settling your frazzled nerves.
You eyed the clock on the dashboard and suddenly realized that you were cutting it very close to your appointment time, with no more than a few minutes to spare before you would be running late.Â
Sensing your sudden shift in mood, he took the keys out of the ignition just as you unlocked the doors once again, and opened yours.Â
âLetâs go inside,â he encouraged, mimicking your action as he opened his own door behind your turned back.Â
When you were out of the car, and waiting (sort of) patiently on the sidewalk for him, you physically shook out some of the anxiety that had made home in your bones for the last several months.Â
He officially knew that youâd had sex with Jake. He knew that now. And he knew that it had resulted in a baby. He knew enough for now.
And it actually seemed like things were going to be okay. Maybe Elsie had been right all along (though youâd never tell her that).
Your thoughts were affirmed when he came up beside you, pulling you into a hug as soon as he was at your side. A full-on Josh hug: arms wrapped securely around your shoulders. You did your best to hold back tears, so as not to soil his stark white sweatshirt.
Pulling away before you could let any inevitable tears take over, you looked up at him to see his dimple, present in his cheek. You couldnât help the single tear that trickled down your cheek at the overwhelming feeling of normality. He was warm. He was real. He was Josh.Â
He wrapped an arm around your shoulder, bringing you to him once more before taking your hand in his and wrapping it up tightly.Â
Peeking up at him through wet lashes, you saw his face was still turned up in his signature grin, his eyes, slightly playful as he gave you a knowing look heâd given you a thousand times before.Â
âYouâve got this, mama,â he reassured with a wink, opening the door to the clinic for you.
-đŒđŒđŒ-
The place was fucking amazing. The pictures youâd seen on its website hadnât done it justice at all. The environment was trendy and relaxing and comfortable. Soft music, similar to that of a lullaby played in the open space, only illuminated by the natural light of the day. No overbearing fluorescent bulbs.
Thank God.
As you made your way to the front desk, you decided to let go of Joshâs hand.Â
For some reason, it just felt right to do this on your own. Felt right to make this stride on your own. You could handle the front desk.
âYou go sit down,â you offered, motioning to the couches that filtered the chic waiting room. âI think I can do this part.âÂ
âYou sure?â He asked, brows dipping to show his genuine concern. âIâm with you every step of the way. I mean it.â
Your eyes drew wet at the words, but you sniffled and cleared the emotion from your throat when you went to grab his arm through the soft white material of his sweatshirt. âI love you so much for that. I canât even tell you, Josh,â you told him, a tear escaping despite your efforts. âBut Iâve gotta take this step on my own.â
He nodded, needing no further explanation. âIâm over here if you need me,â he threw a thumb at the couches behind him.Â
You watched as he walked to the couch nearest to the front desk, sitting comfortably on the blush pink velvet that covered it. You tipped your head at him once, showing him and yourself that you were starting your trek to the counter.Â
Once there, you were greeted by the kind smile of a woman most likely in her fifties or sixties, her thick black-framed glasses taking up more than half of her face. Her tanned complexion was flawless and her lips were full with red lipstick as she stretched them over perfectly white teeth. Her jet-black hair was half-up, half-down, haphazardly thrown up with a claw clip, but looking flawless nonetheless.Â
She matched the modish aesthetic of the clinic to a T.Â
âHi, babe,â she cheerily greeted you with an out-of-place Southern accent in SoHo, her voice still low to keep the room quiet. âYou have an appointment today?â
You froze. The reality of it all suddenly came barreling towards you.
Fuck. Shit. Yes. I do have an appointment today. Iâm pregnant. Iâm standing here, waiting for an appointment because Iâm fucking pregnant.
Dammit. What the fuck? Iâm. . .?
You standing here suddenly seemed completely astronomical and unrealâ was this truly what life was for you now? While thinking about it nonstop, youâd also not been thinking about it to the extent that it wouldâve taken for all of this change to click. This was real. Real life.Â
You were carrying a human child.Â
And you were at your first appointment for it.
Goddamn.
Blinking several times, you tried to keep your grounding firm as your eyes traced her features a thousand timesâ searching your suddenly static-filled brain for the most simple word in the English language.Â
âY-y-yâ,â you shut your eyes tightly to reset. Come on, y/n. Youâve got this. Itâs just one word.Â
But you suddenly werenât sure if you âhad thisâ. Your hands began to shake uncontrollably at your sides; you wiped them repeatedly on your leggings.Â
But before you could moisten the fabric covering your thighs completely, you went to place them on the counter, touching your current surroundings to center yourself. To hold on to what was real.Â
Gia would be so proud.
But then your brain raced right back to the true reality of it all. The reason you were freaking out in the first place was because of the real you couldnât escapeânot that you wanted to, by any means. . .right?! You wanted this. You wanted this.Â
You DO want this, y/n. Deep breaths.
The voice sounded so eerily similar to your therapistâs that it helped you to grasp onto a flicker of stabilization.Â
This reality was not new. Youâd known it was real. You had known there was (probablyâhopefully) a kid in you for the past few weeks. And being in this place didnât make that anymore different than beforeâ minutes before when youâd stepped through the door of the clinic.Â
Then youâd walked up to the counter and had one simple question asked of you.
You shook your head once more before blinking open your suddenly-wet eyes.Â
But you couldnât look up from the floor. From your high-top, white Chuck Taylors, now off-white and stained from years of wear.Â
And swirling before your eyes in ways they shouldnât be from the amount of nerves encapsulating your brain. . . Your stomach was rolling.
All of a sudden, you felt a familiar arm wrap around your trembling shoulders, strongly holding you to his chest to keep you stable. The cologne that came from the person, along with the overwhelming rush of relief that came with his presence was a dead giveaway for your new company.
Everything settled.
âYes,â Josh stated, clearly, for you. âYes, itâs her first appointment. Y/n? Y/l/n?â
A couple of beats and a few clicks from a mouse followed his words. Then you heard a clipboard clack lightly against the counter and a pen getting clicked open before she sat it on top of the board.Â
âWhenever sheâs ready,â her voice assuredly spoke, so soft and warm. âIâll get yâall back there when the time feels right.â
Youâd effectively curled tighter into Josh before you looked back up at the sweet lady, meeting her eyes with embarrassment laced through every feature on your face. The muscles in your jaw relaxed when you met her eyes, finally speaking.Â
âThank you,â you muttered. âIâm so sorry.â
She tilted her head at you, sending an understanding wink your way. âNo need to apologize, sweet pea,â she calmly hushed, her voice sounding reminiscent of any old Southern woman youâd ever seen in a movie. âItâs a whole lot to deal with. We get it.â
Your lips quivered up into a small smile, eyes watery. âThat means a lot,â you sputtered, fresh tears making their way to your jaw.Â
Dear fucking God. The tears had to stop at some point. Youâd always been a crier, but these motherfucking hormones were just bringing out the absolute most. Pulling out all of the stops. Your emotions, pre-pregnancy, were already shaky, at best. . . and they were apparently just getting progressively worse with the damned baby hormones.
The anxiety was understandable. But the crying? It was almost nonstop. And it was getting old already.Â
Though, you knewâyou knewâthat it wasnât even fucking close to being over. If everything today went accordingly and you officially found out there was a whole ass baby growing inside of you, you knew that this spike in emotions was only the beginning.Â
Sharing one more smile with the lady behind the desk, you walked with Josh back to the waiting room couch heâd been occupying prior to your blessed meltdown.Â
-đŒđŒđŒ-
Unashamedly, you let Josh fill out all of the paperwork. You were still tense and uneasy, but the way youâd handled answering the questions, with him right by your side helped more than youâd intended it to. The process had just been an easy ebb and flow, answering basic questions about yourself.Â
And questions about Jakeâbut Josh answered those with zero problems. Basic Father-Of-The-Child shit that Josh could ramble off in his sleep. You couldnât help peering over his shoulder as he answered those. You couldnât explain the intrigueâ you just thought it funny seeing him answer questions about his twin. . . Like it was nothing.Â
Then came questions about your menstrual cycle. Which were not your favorite to have Josh write the answers toâ but you didnât want to put pen to paper, so you continued to let him write even those, too.
The rest of the process went easily. Heâd rattle off a question, and youâd answer it. That was how itâd gone for roughly thirty minutes.Â
Heâd clicked his tongue, drawing a line down the section about past pregnancies. And then heâd come to a question that made him give you a look. He had one eyebrow raised as soon as heâd read through the last question.Â
The last question. The last question that had been slightly unwelcome and less than wonderful to have him fill in for you.Â
You didnât know why you hadnât thought of it being on the sheet. Your mind had been too focused on other things for the past several days. Like hopelessly depressing scenarios involving your babyâs wellbeing and telling people and eating fucking pickles. . . you just hadnât really given much weight to possible questions on this initial patient questionnaire.Â
You pulled your body back slightly, your own face morphing to one that mirrored his. âWhat?â
âThe last questionâ they want to know if youâre sexuallyâ,â he cleared his throat, shaking his head once before before continuing. âIf youâre sexually active.â
You blushed deep crimsonâyour cheeks, flaming hot. You knew exactly where his mind went because it was where yours went with the question.Â
Are you still having sex with Jake?
You coughed briefly, clearing the awkward air before you responded. âNo,â you divulged, your eyes flitting up to his: big, wondering and deep chocolate. âNo. Weâre notâ fuck. Iâm not. Iâm not having sex. I donât know if he is,â you rambled, bringing a hand up to slap your forehead. Your heart rate even accelerated the slightest bit, hurting your chest. What in the fuck? That's unnecessary. Itâs one question, y/n. Quit being nervousâthereâs no need. âButâIâm not having sex. Not sexually active, no.â
Josh brought your hand away from your head, which was suddenly breaking out in a cold sweat. You found his eyes: open and willing to listen and understand. Your heart rate slowed considerably at his expression. âItâs okay, y/n. Either way, I donât care. Itâs your life.â
You blinked away more tearsâgod, fuck. Not trusting yourself to speak, you simply nodded in response. The response was what youâd needed to hear from the beginning. Would things be different if youâd heard those words from him at the beginning of all of this?Â
It was no use to imagine. You hadnât heard his affirmation before now, and at this point, it was officially too late. Youâd hurt Jake. Jake had moved on and proved to you that you really werenât that important to him.
And, the sad truth: even if Josh was okay with it, you had plenty more reasons to keep your title with Jake strictly roommateâfriend at most.Â
Also, officially, the mother of his child.
Clasping your hands over your tummy, you watched as he checked the ânoâ box. Then, you watched his eyes scan the sheet quickly to check for any missed questions, clicking his tongue against his teeth all the while.
Thankfully, it seemed youâd successfully answered all of them when he got up to walk the sheet back to the counter for you, where a nurse now occupied the seat, youâd observed. Scrubs, making that apparent.
You had been too busy spacing out on the many questions Josh had asked of you, per the sheets. You hadnât the mind to pay attention to where the receptionist had gone.
Josh came back over to you shortly to get your driverâs license from you, along with your insurance card.Â
âTheyâll need these on file,â he said, flashing both at you once youâd given them to him. He brought them back after theyâd scanned them into the system, but went up to the counter to answer any questions they may've had as you waited on the couch.Â
He was seriously the best. You, proving to be completely useless, didnât hinder him from being the most incredible friend whilst you sat, doing nothing.Â
Before too long, once (you assumed) the general information from the sheet had been entered in the system, you heard your name called from the door to the side of the desk, and you were steadily ushered to the back by a nurse. (With Josh in tow, of course. He wasnât going anywhere.)
âNice day outside?â The young nurse, blonde hair pulled into a sleek ponytail, asked politely, as you stepped off the scale sheâd weighed you on.Â
âYeah,â you responded, glancing over your shoulder at Josh. âNice fall day. But a little warmer than we like it, huh, Josh?â
He nodded enthusiastically. âOh, yes,â he responded. âDefinitely not enjoying my choice of clothing today. . . Not the day for a sweater, Iâll say.â
The nurse hummed, taking in the information as she grabbed a cup from the counter with your first initial and last name on it. âHow long have you guys been together?â She addressed you once with a smile, looking between the two of you with a twinkle in her eye.Â
You didnât mean to squawk with a laugh.Â
But thankfully you didnât have to worry about it because Josh did, too.Â
The laugh was, once again, exactly what you needed to calm you down. Your shoulders, still releasing their tension from earlier, became more and more relaxed with each giggle you released. Josh was holding his mouth and shaking his head, his smiling eyes closed while you answered the question.Â
âWeâre not together,â you explained, the laughter dying down as you caught the nurseâs wide eyes sympathetically. âHeâs my best friend. Dating my sister, actually.â
âOh,â she grinned shakily, eyes jumping back and forth between the two of you. âYou both justâheâs here with you todayâand you two just seem to fit so well together.â
You smirked, throwing a sideways glance at Josh who was watching the woman with the same sympathetic gaze as you. He mustâve sensed your staring, though, because he quickly threw a look your way.Â
He winked at you before adding in his two cents. âI mean, you werenât wrong. We do mesh incredibly well, but her sisterâs had my heart for a helluva a long time. However, I am the uncle,â he informed her, pointing to himself before throwing the same pointer at your tummy.Â
It made your heart flutter a thousand beats per minute at hearing him say, for the first time, that heâs the uncle. Josh being bound by blood to the little bean growing within you is another reason you feel assured in your decision to keep it. Itâs part of Jake, and part of your closest confidant (aside from Elsie) for years. Youâve obviously thought about it plenty of times before now, but finally hearing Josh acknowledge it was something your heart desperately needed.
âMy brother is the father. Iâm just her best friendâdonât know what he is to her, though," he finished.
Your eyes widened as you were still getting used to hearing Jake being referred to as the father out loud. . .
Better get fucking used to it, thoughânothing you could do about it.Â
You also werenât sure what to make of Joshâs last statementâwas he still upset with you that he didnât know anything about Jakeâs role in your life? The inflection in his tone sounded a bit more sneering than you would have liked.
Whenever she spoke next, you were able to snap out of it, recovering quickly.
âWhoa,â she said, blowing out a breath. âThatâs. . . wow.â Shaking her head, she looked at the cup in her hand, handing it over to you before she continued. She seemed to be done with the conversation, and ready to get back to the task at hand. âEvery woman that comes in for her first appointment gets her blood drawn and urinates in a cup,â she motions to the plastic container sheâd handed over to you, then taps at her arm as she watches you carefully for her next spiel. âWe draw the blood so we can use it to identify your blood type and to look for other conditions we may have to monitor or treat during your pregnancy.â
Damn. That was a hell ton of information. What do I even make of all of that?
It was your turn to just stare blankly at her and offer a simple okay before she was pointing to the room with the open door, across the hallway, for Josh.
âYou can wait in that room for her,â she stretched a little half smile over her delicate features. âShe will be there shortly.â
He gave you two thumbs up and a reassuring grin before going in the direction sheâd told him. Then she was leading you to the nearest bathroom so you could pee in your fucking cup. After giving you a few instructions, along with a sterile wipe, and informing you on how to get an uncontaminated urine sample, she was letting you in to the single-person restroom.Â
It definitely matched the trendy environment of the rest of the clinic and was cleaner than probably any other public restroom youâd ever been inside. You did exactly as sheâd instructed and made your business quick before handing off the sample to the same nurse from before. She sat it in a window where someone behind immediately grabbed it.Â
âGoing off to the lab,â she half-smiled, but quickly tipped her finger to signal you to follow her further down the hallway. âNow Iâm going to draw some blood real fast, and then youâll be free to go wait for the doctor in your room.â
Sitting in a chair in a room towards the back, a couple of other nurses went about their business as your nurse cleaned your arm, using a cotton ball with her now-gloved hands.Â
âDoes getting your blood drawn freak you out?â She apprehensively questioned before she went to insert the needle. âOr these?â She wiggled the needle in the air to emphasize.
You shook your head, pursing your lips. âFor some reason, those are two things Iâm totally fine with,â you spoke, your voice tilting up at the end. âI donât know why they donât freak me outâeverything else fucking does.â
God, shut the fuck up, y/n. Let her do her job.
The blonde gave you an odd look, as if youâd spoken too much for her taste.Â
And that pissed you off. You no longer felt bad for talking too much.Â
You fucking asked me, bitch.
Thankfully, you were able to get rid of her in minutes-time. As soon as sheâd bandaged your arm over a cotton ball, she pointed you to the room sheâd sent Josh.Â
âThanks,â you mumbled with a small, semi-annoyed smile before making your way to the room where Josh waited.Â
His eyes were huge when you made your way into the small exam room.Â
âHoly shit,â he breathed. âYouâve got it cut the fuck out for you, huh?â
You gave him a look that said Seriously? and rolled your eyes. âDuh, Josh,â you replied, taking in the small room with pretty pictures of babies all over the walls. âI kind of already knew that. Since I am the one carrying the fuckinâ baby and all.â
God, that was harsh, y/n. He doesnât deserve your anger like that.
Both of his hands went up to guard him as he crossed one leg over the other. âJesus, y/n,â he sighed, eyes huge. âGive me a damn break. I didnât even know until today that you were pregnant. Didn't fully know any of it. Itâs a lot for a guy, I guess.â
âDamn, Iâm so sorry that itâs so much for you as a man, Josh,â you scowled, your voice not hiding any of your irritation with him for his last comment.Â
Seriously, y/n?
To be fair, as amazing as Josh truly was, he was still a manâ and half of the time men didnât know their heads from their assholes. Didnât ever know the proper times to say stupid shit. (Or, to not say it at all.)Â
You had to put it in perspective, though . . .because you kind of sucked at saying ridiculous shit, too. So you could only get so angry with him.
âThat was a stupid thing to say,â he admitted. âSorry.â
You tried to laugh it off. You didnât want there to be unnecessary tension right nowâit was the very last thing you needed. âItâs fine,â you encouraged.Â
You propped yourself to sit the best you could on the edge of the beige-matted table. The thin paper that covered it crinkled underneath youâ made you feel like you were making way too much noise for the tiny room.
âIâm sorry for being short. I need you. For multiple reasons. But right now. . .I just need you to be with me when I find out if this bean actually exists in my loins. . . If Iâve been imagining it the whole fucking time, or if Iâve lost it. . .,â you swallowed. You had to blink back the tears gathering in your eyes as you trailed off at the dreaded possibility. âI just need you to see with me if thereâs anything sad to be seen,â you added, voice suddenly wet.Â
âHey,â Josh spoke, softly. âLook at me.â
You swiveled to do as he said. The attempt to not cry was useless. The tears were drenching your cheeks. The fear that had settled so deeply in your bones since the day youâd heard that podcast was coming to light, as youâd just uttered the worries aloud for the first time.Â
Barely seeing Josh through the wetness that clouded your vision, you replied the best you could, albeit extremely pathetically. âYeah?âÂ
âWhy are you worried about those things?â He asked, so quietly, eyes gleaming to bring light. Grabbing your hands, his eyes became suspicious slits when he addressed his next question. âY/n. . . Have you given yourself any time to feel excited about this appointment? Or have you just focused on the anxiety youâve built up, surrounding today?â
You bowed your head out of embarrassment. âIâve been excited, Josh. . .,â you muttered, completely aware of the lie.Â
âMmm,â he responded, rubbing his chin with one hand as the other still grasped both of yours, sure and comforting. âI suspect thatâs untrue. . . I know you, my love.â
Gasping on a sob, you closed your eyes to stop crying, covering your face with your hands. âIâm sorry.â
âHey, hey, hey,â he said, squeezing your hands, down and away from your face. He held them still with one of his own, the other helping to slide his chair closer to you. âDonât you dare be sorry, mamaâ thereâs no reason. This is just the beginning; youâve got plenty more opportunities to be excited. . . Iâm sure plenty of women get worried before this first appointment. Thereâs a lot up in the air before the first time you see the little thing on the screen.â
You opened your eyes to look at him. And though they were still wet, nothing else was coming from your ductsâ thank god. âYeah?â You asked, desperate to know he actually might understand, tone begging him to tell you youâre not crazy. âYou think?â
He nodded with his lips pursed, his new mustache squiggly with the action; his brows, tied together, and eyes, serious. âOh, yes. I know it. You are not alone, love,â he reassured you, helping your heart rate slow to normal for the millionth time that day. âBut thatâs why I hope every single one of those women has a person who is there for them on days like today.â He paused, setting his eyes firmly on you before continuing. âBecause, today, we are going to discover and conquer whatever we find out from that screenâ,â he tilted his forehead toward the monitor screen, âTogether.â
Your eyes welled, lip sticking out with a pout. God, you loved him. You truly couldnât have done today without him. âI really need a hug from you.âÂ
Without question, he was up and out of his seat, wrapping his arms snugly around you. You tucked your nose into his neck, breathing in his cologneâ the familiar smell of his patchouli exactly what you needed to feel secure in the moment.Â
You were busy focusing on his breathing, in and out, in and out, when the door received a knock and creaked open behind his back. He mustâve heard, too, and moved away from hugging you and back to his seat as you both watched for the doctor to walk through the door.
But the only person you saw was. . . the receptionist? What was she doing inâ?Â
âIâm Dr. Rose,â the beautiful ladyâwho was a doctor apparently, not a receptionistâgreeted you with that same, thick Southern accent. âItâs nice to see you doinâ better since I last saw ya, babygirl.â
You blinked several times, feeling immediately at ease with the familiar face. âYouâre a doctor? Not a receptionist?â
God, stupid, y/n. Duh. She just said that, you moron.
She chuckled. âYes maâam,â she replied, as she clicked on every button on the monitor needed to complete the appointment. Afterwards, as things whirred to life, she went to open the laptop sheâd carried in with her, sitting atop the counter. âIâm your doctor, sweet cakes,â she twanged in her western tone. âIâll be with yâall until the very end of this wonderful journey we call pregnancy.â
You grinned, appreciative of the fact that you were already familiar with herâeven if it was from the tiniest interaction earlier. But you couldnât hold onto that feeling for too long before you got nervous of the impression youâd made earlier with your anxiety attack (or whatever the hell thatâd been).Â
With concerned brows, you cleared your throat before offering up some words of your own. âIâm so sorry that the first time you met me I was acting like a basket case,â you apologized, extremely self conscious. Crossing your legs tighter, you tucked a lock of hair behind your ear. When that still hadnât been enough to contain the nervous energy, you let your hands rest on your belly.Â
Tapping away at the small bump, skin tight under your sweater, you waited for her response.Â
She gave you a look that immediately eased you. Her brow, raised, and beautiful red lips quirked up in a small grin. âNow, little missy, I told you earlier that we get it and I meant it.â Dr. Rose sat on her rolling stool, wheeling over to the table. And once there, extended it to be higher so she could talk better with you closer to eye level. âYou are not the first one to get all nervous at your first prenatal appointmentâor any OB appointment at allâ and youâre certainly not the lastâfar, far from it,â she smiled wide, close-lipped and completely empathetic. Her deep set, big, brown eyesâ lashes so long and curled to perfectionâ showed you how much she cared, behind her big black frames. âNow, how about we get to the good stuff?â
There were obviously a couple tears dripping down your cheek, and you pushed them away as you nodded. Your tummy did all of the flips and tosses and turnsâyour skin was practically buzzing with nerves.Â
You were so close to seeing the truth.
Facing this head on.
âGo ahead and lay back for me,â she instructed. You did as you were told, bending an arm behind your head, trying to get comfortable in skin that felt restrictive. As she stood up, clicking a few buttons to get the monitor screen situated, she asked some questions. âNow can you give me a small debrief on your health history? Anything you can think of? Donât worry about digging too, too deep right now. We have your blood samples and urine sample that will also aid in indicating any abnormalities.â
The word abnormalities wasnât your favorite thing to hear, but you didnât let it sit tight in your brain as you pondered anything she might need to know.Â
âUm,â you dipped into the more current issues youâd faced. âI guess. . . anxiety? Depression? Do those count?âÂ
Dr. Rose hummed in approval and gave a small grin as she went to get a few materials from the cabinet.
âI think the anxiety is worse than the depression, but theyâre both persistently just. . . there,â you contemplated what else. . . nothing much was coming to your mind. âI also got my tonsils taken out when I was like 12 years old. . .?â
âYou say that as a question,â she commented, a lilt in her voice and a smile on her face, showing that she found it funny.Â
âI did have them taken out,â you huffed a laugh, rolling your eyes at yourself as you pushed back a few strands of hair that had fallen out from behind your ear. âIâm just kind of. . .blanking. I know thereâs more, but Iâm justâjust fucking nervous.â
âThatâs understandable, sweetie pie,â she assured, her thick Southern accent making your heart rate settle just a bit.
âI know Iâm probably missing a few things. Like, there are parts of my childhood that are hazy at best, so there might be things buried back there that I canât tell you today,â you informed carefully, hoping she understood. When she nodded, you took that as your sign to continue. âIâm seeing a therapist right now who is actually helping me dig up some of it, so I might have a few more answers for you next visit.â
There was a moment of silence as Dr. Rose continued to prepare the sonogram machine, the obnoxious clacking of keys and buttons covering the dull electrical hum that surrounded you. However, that singular moment of time seemed to carry on and on as the nerves in your body seemed to twist your gut to the point that your organs felt close to pushing out of your belly button.
It was as if simply mentioning your mental health â and whispering of your past â was enough to send you into a mini spiral. The muted lull of the clinic didnât help anything. . . the almost soundless environment, wrapping you up in its emptiness and choking you.
Tap, tap . . . Tap, tap . . . Tap, tap . . .
You tried to focus on the thrum of your fingertips along the tender skin of your swollen abdomen, hoping and praying it would keep your thoughts at bay. Â
She was taking a long fucking timeâwhich you were sure was normal and warranted.Â
But, God. The room just started feeling smaller and smaller as the thoughts got bigger and bigger. You were in the room that was about to tell you the truth of the matter and you still seemed so far away from finding out. . . You werenât sure what to think.Â
Were you even ready to see what the ultrasound was about to show you?
Josh must have noticed the nervous energy you were exuding as the stoppers on the legs of the chair made a sharp scraping noise against the sterile linoleum tile, making you cringe the tiniest bit. He moved his chair closer to the side of the table next to you, opposite of where Dr. Rose sat on the other side. His dark eyes made contact with yours and his brow raised as if to say, âare you okay?â.
All you could manage to do was nod in response, brows knitted.
âAlrighty, Iâm going to put some of this gel on your belly and then youâll feel a bit of pressure once we start.â
You were half expecting a chill to make you jolt with the application of the thick gel, much like you'd seen in movies - you know, where itâs freezing cold and uncomfortable - but as it fell against your skin, you were surprised to be met with a warm temperature that relaxed you. The clean scent of the gel overpowered your nostrils, but not in a bad way. It gave you something else to focus on as a slight pressure from the head of the wand, came to push lightly against your belly, just above your pelvic bone.
The black and white image appeared on the screen and. . . showed you nothing.Â
Nothing.Â
Emptiness. Empty stomach.
Amidst the gray static on the screen, there was nothing but a big black spot that resembled a the shape of a bean. You had to force yourself to look away, an all-too familiar stinging feeling in the corner of your eyes, showing up again.
All this time, the acceptance of your pregnancy and the effort and hard work youâd put in to create a better life for yourself (and this part of him inside you). . . had shown to be completely pointless. The feeling of hope that you'd begun to welcome into your life was on the brink of shattering and it didnât help that Dr. Rose wasnât saying anything. . . wasnât doing anything aside from sliding the wand against your empty stomach.
God fucking dammit. All of your worst fears were coming to fruition and every moment you stared at the bleak screen you felt the emptiness on the screen envelop your heart untilâ.
Thump thump.
You felt your breath catch in your throat as Josh gently grabbed onto your arm, reassuring, and pointed at the screen above you. On the screen, displayed clear as day right in front of you, was the outline of a babyâs delicate profile.
The soft curve of its forehead, the splotchy spikes of a tell-tale spine, a little belly, the slightest movement of four tiny limbs protruding from the sides and bottom. . . and the tiniest flicker in the center of it all.
You couldnât tear your gaze away as Dr. Rose started to press more buttons and a bunch of small dotted yellow lines showed over the image of your baby, measuring from point A to point B. She was speaking, but you couldnât be bothered to listen to the words she was saying. All you cared about was the miniscule movements on the screen as a leg kicked up or an arm pushed out. Â
It was beautiful, striking, amazing, wonderful, unbelievable, and real. . . so very real.
What you had found yourself questioning for weeks wasnât just a thought, but now cemented reality. The concerns you had and the voice in your head doubting you were silenced to nothing - because the life growing inside you, the product of you and Jake, was right in front of you. Â
The product of the best night of your life was finally proven to be the best part of you and it was real.
Thump thump.
The steady sound of a little racing heartbeat drew you back to the present and to the words your doctor was saying to you.
âProfile looks darn good, placenta is anterior, thereâs the umbilical cord. . .,â She spoke as she pointed with her finger to each shape of white that was mixed into the static. âHeartbeat is 160, thereâs the bladder and the kidneys, oh!â Dr. Rose exclaimed with a chuckle as she seemed to record a movement. Upon playing it back in front of you, she explained the movement as a little hand with five fingers moved up towards a space by the babyâs nose. âThe little angel is wavin' at you, mama,â she looked down at you with a knowing smile.Â
Your heart swelled more than youâd ever felt in your entire life. This was . . . otherworldly. Absolutely earth-shattering. There were not any words you could string together that would do this moment justice.
âWow,â you muttered, voice officially clogged with the tears that relentlessly poured down your cheeks. You sniffled. âItâs. . . moving?â
âSure is,â she winked. âHas been for a while. You have an especially active little one â already. Prepare for some monster kicks here in a couple months, mama.â
âWow,â you repeated.
âGets it from their uncle,âJosh said, sniffling behind you.
You smiled over at him. You felt the joy he did. All around. More. This was your baby. Yours and Jakeâs. God.
âExciting, huh, babe?â She asked knowingly.Â
All you could do was nod. You werenât sure you could stop smiling. . . it was hurting your cheeks, but you welcomed it. This was. . . this was everything. Everything you could have ever wished for.
âI know it, honey bun,â she agreed, her red lips perked with joy for you. âAlso, according to the size of the baby and the start date of your last menstrual cycle, I would say you are at right about 12 weeks, little missy.â
Once sheâd confirmed the gestational age, you saw her scoot the cart back a bit and wipe the wand sheâd used with a sterile wipe, putting it back in its slot. Then, she cleaned your belly of any leftover jelly. You just watched from where you were still leaned back, head resting on one arm behind it. She stripped her gloves and tossed them in the nearest waste bin.
âTwelve weeks. Yep,â you breathed, pulling your shirt down. Your cheeks lifted even more at officially knowing (relatively) how old your little bean was. âBased on my last period.â
âYes. Because, oddly enough, that is technically when the pregnancy started,â she explained. âOn the first date of your last menstrual cycle.â
Dr. Rose went to grab a packet, a pamphlet, and a few free-flying papers, all paper-clipped together, from the counter. You sat up as she clicked her way back to you on her stilettos. She kept talking as she handed them to you. âI donât wanna clog up our time today with all of the technicalities â unless thatâs what ya want?â She offered.Â
You shook your head no. Today, all youâd come in wanting to know was that your baby was alive. And you knew that now. And fuck, it felt nice. Better than.Â
Except . . .
âIs the baby healthy?â You asked worriedly, needing to hear her tell you.
âPositively. One hundred percent, mama,â she confirmed, her teeth sparkling behind her red lips. âFrom what I could see on the scan, youâve got a perfectly healthy baby squirminâ around in there.â
You internally and externally let out a sigh of relief that had needed released for a fat second. The baby was okay. Healthy. Moving. Alive.Â
Everything was going to be alright.
You looked down at Josh, his face glowing, cheeks glistening with tears. âIâm so proud of you,â he choked.Â
Another tear slipped down his cheek as you felt one well in your eye. You didnât know why he was proud of you, but the words made your emotions spike. You were proud of the little life inside of you. . . already doing its best to live its best life.
âBack to what I was sayinâ before,â Dr. Rose went on. Your eyes found her, clicking off the machine. âIn that paperwork youâll find all of the technicalities and logistics about the pregnancy. Which vitamins you should take. Prenatals our clinic suggests. Recommended foods to eat. The babyâs size week by week. When I say everything, sweetie, I mean ev-er-ything,â she emphasized in her twang. âYou can find the same information on our clinicâs website. There is a help tab on there for our mothers-to-be, but I always provide physical copies for my girls. I also recommend downloading at least one pregnancy tracker app to get notified with updates â itâs just convenient and fun.â
âI downloaded one recently, actually. Itâs been amazing. Thank you for everything,â you weakly offered. You also had to know. . . âWill you be the one delivering the baby?â
âSure thing,â she affirmed. âWith ya till ya want rid of me. Speaking of that day, our partnering hospital is Cedars-Sinai, so that is where youâll end up having the baby,â she paused, bringing her eyes to you. âSince you indicated on the form that you would prefer a planned hospital birth over a planned home birth.â
âCorrect. Hospital birth for me,â you affirmed.
âNow, we are going to schedule your next appointment for four weeks from now,â she continued, opening her tablet and typing out the information for her calendar, presumably. âHow does December 8th sound, honey bun?â
You didnât check your calendar, because you would make that day okay. Anything you needed to do to make it happen. âSounds perfect,â you replied, practically jittering with excitement for the next one. âWhen will I find out the gender?â
âI always have my girls wait until week 18,â she responded, turning buttons off on the machine before scooting it back where it had started. âSo, when you come in for your next appointment, we will actually have ya schedule an extra lil appointment in there to see what our little buddy is in there.â
âGot it,â you told her.Â
âYour sonogram pictures will be waitinâ at the front desk for ya,â she said, washing her hands. Then, after she dried them, she grabbed her laptop. âAnd finally, your due date isâat this point, according to what we knowâMay 23rd.â
The date was suddenly the most important youâd ever heard.Â
It was the day you now felt youâd been waiting for your entire life.
Without ever knowing it.Â
This baby was already changing your heart for the better and everyday, it seemed like all the little (alive and moving) bundle of hope did was bring you unadulterated joy.Â
The most precious gift that youâd made with someone so precious to you.
-đŒđŒđŒ-
Once youâd finished the appointment, Josh had asked if you had any plans. And when youâd said no, he ended up driving you both to a cute little cafe he'd heard about in SoHo. A place that, even from the outside, oozed with a charming aesthetic.Â
The two of you sat there, pointing out every single detail of the sonogram pictures, ooh-ing and ahh-ing over the tiny feet, tiny hands, and the itty bitty, adorable body that belonged to your baby. . . You had never seen something so beautiful. You were sure of it.
And after that, youâd taken some time to catch up. Youâd talked about him and Elsie, Elsie and her travels, and the fact that youâd started going to therapy. (Next to the baby, he was most excited about this.)
All youâd ordered was a Sprite since you werenât feeling the most hungry as of late. Josh had followed in your lead and only ordered drinks as well. Honey tea and a glass of water. Heâd made sure to tell the waitress to grab you a water, too.Â
And after a quick trip to the bathroom to relieve your ever-aching bladder, you were back at the table.Â
Back at a table where Josh was giving you a look. His eyes were narrowed, a mischievous grin turning his lips up to show a dimple in his cheek.
Just as youâd sat down, the waitress was bringing Josh a new, piping hot tea, since he'd (apparently) already finished the first.Â
And then, as soon as she was gone, he was talking.
âI sort of had a weird inkling of something going on. . .,â Josh noted as he stirred, then took a long swig of his tea, steam still emitting from the top. âGoddammit!â He gasped, a pained expression painting his features, as he coughed over the warm temperature of the beverage. âHot hot hot hot,â he repeated to himself, finding his ice water and taking an even longer swig.
You couldnât help the burst of laughter that bloomed in your chest, flying past your lips as he continued to down the water. All you got in response was him flipping you off with one long digit, and a wrinkle, knitting his brow.
The sinking feeling in your stomach couldnât be ignored, though. . . youâd heard what he initially said. How had he known? God. . . how long? Your mind was a frenzy as you forced yourself to stop laughing to focus on the serious subject matter at hand.
âHow?â
âWell, y/n,â he replied smartly, motioning to the cup. âIt just came from the pot, Iâm sure. Donât you see the damned thing is steaming? Why did I even take aâ?â
âNo,â you stopped his rambling to clarify your question. âHow did you . . .? Did you seriously know?â As you were still air-quoting the last few words, he was already nodding his head to answer you. âHow? Why? What did we do wrong? I-I mean- God. Do Sam and Danny know, too?â
âNow, I didnât say I knew,â he corrected you, feeling at the sides of the mug to test the temperature. And, yet again, he was met with the scorching temperature, thus hissing and placing his hands around the plastic of the water cup. âIn essence, I said I had an idea. And you didnât do anything wrong. I justâ heâs my fucking twin, y/n,â he set you with a stare that said âRemember?! Canât fool me!â, before he continued. âAnd where youâre concerned. . . I know you very well. Youâve been my best friend for several years. . ." he reminded you. "Oh, and Iâm also a fucking empath. Which you, my dear, were the first one to ever point out my empathic tendencies. . .,â he winked at you with a grin on his full lips. âYou shouldâve known you couldnât keep that shit from me. Not without me getting suspicious as hell.â
âAre you mad?â
He stuck his lip out, looking down at the tea, running his finger tip along the rim of the mug before he wrapped his hands around it again. Apparently not at a burning temperature anymore, he decided to bring the cup up to his lips, pinky up as he gripped the handle. This time, he closed his eyes in relief at the taste of the honeyed tea on his tongue. When he placed it back down, he continued watching it, lips still pushed out in a pout as he shook his head, brow wrinkled.
âNah,â was all he supplied, his eyes hyper focused on the white ceramic mug.
Of course, you were not convinced. âJosh. Look at me.â
When his eyes slowly slid up to find yours, you found at least one reason he hadnât been looking at you. There were wet pools accumulating in the ducts of his deep brown eyes. He breathed in deeply, his chest expanding with the giant breath before he blew it out, a lone tear making its way down his cheek.Â
âIâ,â he started, shaking his head and messing with the front of his curly mop of hair. He dropped his hand to tap against the table. âItâs not that Iâm mad. Itâs really hard to make me mad. Iâm more mad at Jake. He makes me mad very easily when he wants. Because I know he can do better. . . Like starting this with you and not having the balls to see it through and leaving you with a baby in your belly.â It was as if the steam had been transferred from his cup to his ears, his nostrils were flaring as he shook his head and squinted his eyes shut.Â
Damn, he and Jake look very similar when they get angry, you suddenly discovered.
âAnd now, heâs just been fucking Maya while youâve had to deal withâ.â
The tears came instantly. Your vision was blurry before you were even able to process that the tears were there.Â
âOh my god, y/n. Iâm soâ fuck. Iâm sorry,â Josh tried, his tone willing you to hear him out.Â
You blinked furiously, covering your eyes with one hand. But, finding it useless to try to hide the tears, you just let them fall freely as you now took deep breaths, your eyes piercing through the window of the cafe. âCan we please notâ?â
âY-yeah, Goddammit,â he nervously fluffed the front of his hair. âY/n, please look at me.â
Forcing your eyes away from the clear autumn sky, you found his eyes, earnestly begging for you to listen to him. âHe wasnâtâ he hasnâtâ I donâtâ,â he growled under his breath, reaching forward for your hand. Which you only stared at until he spoke next. âPlease, just take my hand.â
So, you did as he asked and looked at him with desperately sad eyes.Â
He watched you carefully for a few minutes, letting the tears leave as he reassured you and apologized a couple more times.Â
He cleared his throat, blinking his eyes a few times before apparently deciding on a new conversation. âWhen did you guys begin. . .?â
You knew he was asking when youâd started fucking his brother. But he obviously wasnât going to say it.Â
Nice turn in conversation, Josh.
âItâs complicated,â you offered wetly, not in the mood to talk.
He hummed, before raising a brow with searching eyes. He was trying to get through to you. âWas it that night at Babyâs All Right?â
How the fuck did he know thatâ?
But, like you said, it was more complicatedâbecause, no, it really didnât start at Babyâs.Â
âTechnically," you sniffled, swiping a finger, then a thumb under both of your eyes. "It started before and after that night. It was a long, drawn out thing that shouldnât have ever started.â
Instantly, you felt guilty.Â
The words felt wrong to say. . .the first thing coming to your mind â the baby.Â
If it hadnât started, you wouldnât have the baby. The sweet little bean in your belly with a beautiful, beating heart. You placed a steady hand against your tummy to make up for the harsh words.Â
And the second thing. . . you couldnât begin to imagine never getting to be that close to Jake. . . you were grateful it had started. . . But you also hated yourself for ever letting yourself get so tied up in Jake Kiszka.
Figuratively and literally. God. Stupid.
âYes, it should have,â he affirmed, your eyes flickering to him. âFor my niece or nephew alone.â
âYouâre right,â you agreed, eyes filling with more tears at the conversation and the spiraling thoughts in your mind. âBut, I guess, if we are getting technical. . .," you sniffed. "It started that night he left the venue so pissed and you were equally as pissed with him.â
He seemed to think on that for a second or two, trying to go back to the night to which you were referring. Once he finally found it, his eyes lit up with a twitch on his lips.Â
âHe was mad that night,â he remembered, his hand squeezing yours. You decided to pull yours away from his as you felt it beginning to perspire. Wiped them on your pants, waiting for him to continue. âAnd now I know why. You werenât there.â
âEssentially, yes,â you confirmed with a tilt of your head. You couldn't help but snicker with the next part. âIt started when I got home.â
Joshâs lips stretched to the point that his eyes bulged and his cheeks puffed out. He blew out a breath while his eyes stayed huge. âAnd that is all I need to know about that night.â
You couldnât help but giggle at his expression and his words, to which he lightened with you, falling into a soft moment of laughter alongside you.Â
When the humor died down, he took the initiative to speak. And you let him. You really werenât feeling like talking. The smells of the cafe, for one, were starting to make your stomach turn. âI couldâve guessed that it started around that time,â he began. You quirked a brow, asking him to explain further. âHe . . . he changed around that time.â You didnât speak, which told him to continue. âYou see, when he first got to New York, he was so fucking surly and rude. He wasnât just like that with you, mama. He was short as hell with me, too. And the other guys got his bad side â especially Sammy. His heart was broken and he didnât know how to handle his shit. He started coming back into himself around that time, though. . .Middle of summer. He sort of peaked around the middle of summer. And if I am doing the math right. . . that is when it was happening?â
You nodded an affirmation, impressed by the quick math.Â
âYeah, he was Jake again,â he expressed, eyes tearing up again. âHe was joyful for the first time in years. I hadnât seen him act so freely and fun since before he and Amelia started dating. There was always something stopping him when he was with her â she was stopping him. But you. . . you mustâve encouraged him to be himself. You didnât turn down the challenge. You took a chance on my brother.â
After considering the words, the lightbulb appeared above your head. That conversation the day in the record shop. The same day youâd played over and over again to convince yourself out of being with Jake. Youâd focused on the other words so much that youâd forgotten all about the positive thingsâthe possibilities that had been discussed that day.
You remembered it now. You'd been talking about high school. And how Jake had sort of decided to fuck all when Josh hadn't. . . and it had turned into you bringing up your love of a challenge.Â
Josh had nodded, lips turned down, his eyes still holding a little glint. âYup. Get my point now?â
âYeah, but like I just said, Iâm not one to turn down a challenge. Just like you, Josh. And your brother. . .Iâve learned he is nothing if not a challenge.âÂ
He had nodded, knowing you were right. And heâd known you long enough to know that you did indeed enjoy overcoming any problem life may hand you.
God, what had happened to you? Where had the desire to accomplish challenges gone?
Why had you given up? Had you given him up? Or had you simply been done with that challenge? Had Jake just been ready to fly? Had you done what was best?
But, you sidelined those thoughts and decided there were more important matters at hand. Like Josh telling you more about how he was feeling.
âSo. . . youâre not hurt?â You asked, your voice hoarse from not talking. You cleared it, and tried again. âYouâre not hurt?â
âA little, I guess,â he nodded, eyes studying you.
âThatâs fair,â you encouraged â glad he was sharing his heart. âIâm sorry for not telling you. But I just kept hearing your voice in my headâthat same day we talked about challengesâ that same day youâd told me something and it repeated itself over and over to the point that I tried to resist things happening with Jake. Mostly for you, Josh. I didnât want to betray you. Didn't want him to betray his dreams. But then it just became something bigger that I couldnât control. It was . . . different than anything else Iâve ever experienced. I couldnât stop it from happening.â
âDid you want to stop it?â
âI tried to convince myself that I wanted to . . . but I never did. Not really. I wanted him the whole time, but I felt wrong for it. I was totally disregarding what youâd said to me. . . Going against your wishes for him.â
His eyes got big as he took another sip of his tea, that at this point, was probably lukewarm. But if it was, his face didnât show it. He licked at his lips and peered at you pensively, curiously. âGod, y/n. Iâm sorry. What did I even say? I donât remember,â he sighed, rubbing his forehead. âI hate that my words have been just fuckinâ tormenting you, mama. Iâm so sorry.â
âNo,â you said, pointing your finger at him, your eyes serious to communicate your point. âYou donât be sorry. Iâm the one who was in the wrong. Not even Jake, necessarily,â you included the last part, just on Jakeâs behalf. âI was the one who did it even after youâd confided in me that you were happy Jake was getting to live life for himself for the first time â without having to worry about being hung up on a girl. And, then I just let myself be that girl you didnât want for him â I was the girl to get in his way while he shouldâve been living for himself.â
âIn the spirit of fairness, though, I told him that he needed to take a break from women. He didnât listen to me either. Well, sort of. . . he actually did follow my advice, I guess,â he encouraged, his eyes searching yours. âBecause I also told him that I wanted him to think of what he wanted first.â His tone lifted as he winked at you.Â
Your brow wrinkled . . . what was he trying to say?Â
He continued, âWhich, I guess, my dear, after the dream . . . was you.â
Feeling suddenly lightheaded and loopy with Joshâs words, you let them settle for a minute or two before saying anything more.Â
And, the waitress had perfect timing. She filled the open air by asking if you needed anything. First time sheâd been back in a hot damn second. Josh asked for a new tea, and you asked for another glass of Sprite.Â
All that you could think in that moment was that you really had been the opposite of the right thing for Jake. So, you decided to speak your mind.
âBut. . . no,â you declined his words, shaking your head. âNo, Josh. He didnât put himself first â he had a woman â me â that he was focused on instead of learning himself.â
He took a bit to consider your words, his eyes squinted at you as he pursed his lips. The waitress came back to the table as the conversation lulled for his response.Â
As soon as she left, though, the two of you were back to it.
âY/n,â he began, his lips growing into a sure smile. His hands came to clasp in front of him, his hair bouncing with each disbelieving shake of his head. âHe did. He moved here. He started pursuing the dream. He got a job he loved by teaching lessons.â Thus meeting Maya, you snarkily thought. âHe did put himself first. Did all of that, and then he pursued you.â
. . . you hadnât really thought of it that way. Not once had you considered that.Â
God. What if youâd told Josh a long time ago? Chances were, he wouldâve eased your fears and worries. . . but instead, youâd assumed heâd think the worst and let your thoughts derail.Â
Would you even be in the predicament you were today?Â
You knew the answer. The answer was most likely no. You wouldnât have the baby because there wouldâve never been a night - the night - to relieve your Jake-induced stress. Because you would have already taken the time to talk to Josh. . . He would have reassured you before you even had time to ever get to that depressive point.
Would he have convinced you to be with Jake?Â
You didnât know. . . but. . . it was too late now.Â
You were where you were now and there was nothing you could do about it.Â
And none of this ever worked in how Maya had already been in the picture â maybe she had been part of the reason he became happier in the middle of summer.
In the end, she could be the one to thank for thisâ it could most definitely not be you. The sad truth of the matter was, she had probably been filling his cup all along. . .while he was filling yours.
While you were letting yourself get tangled in him, he was feeling the same emotions. . . but for her. Because, in the end, she was easier than you.
You couldn't find it in good conscience to be with him anyway.
Because, well, you still wouldnât have wanted to distract him from his dream with a relationship. His dream was too valuable to possibly table for you. You were too much of a mess that he could get distracted by, rather than taking the time to fulfill his dream.
She freed up his time with her carefree nature. And you only infiltrated his time with your darkness. She was sunshine, brightening up his paths.
You had to figure you out before you could ever make someone as happy as Maya made Jake.Â
Before you had this baby.
However the tables turned, they had already turned. And it was too late to go back and change anything now. You werenât even sure what you would changeâor what you would think if you could turn back time. There was too much filling up your brainâyour lifeâ to make the wisest decision.Â
It didnât matter anyway.
So, you told Josh all you could think to say. The same words youâd thrown nastily in Jakeâs face, you threw harshly in your own.
âWell, I guess I served my purpose.â
-đŒđŒđŒ-
When Josh pulled your car into your space, Jakeâs was nowhere to be found. As always, you couldn't help but wonder where he was. He hadn't worked today so he was probably with-.
âI really am most mad at my brother.â
âTry not to be,â you encouraged lamely. You really didnât care too much about him being angry at anyone right now. . . all you really cared about was getting upstairs to your bed to take a nice, long nap. It had been a day.Â
âIâm going to be for a whiâ.â
Tap tap tap.
Both of your eyes turned to Joshâs window. Outside of the driverâs side was Jake. You could see all the way down his loose shirt. It was open and tempting his tanned skin and firm chest, while his necklaces hung loosely in front of him, as he was bent over to peek into the car.
But. . . you could see the heated glare from his eyes, even through the tint of his Ray-Bans. His nostrils were flared and his lips had curled into a faux smirk.Â
When Josh rolled his window down, you heard Jake's breathy chuckles that had no indication of anything truly humorous behind them. They sounded more bitter than anything else.Â
âWhat have you two been up to?â he questioned, the inflection on the word âyouâ paired with his snide tone told you he was probably less than thrilled to see you and Josh together. Alone, at that.Â
But why? Why the fuck would he care?
You were struck completely motionless and silent, feeling nauseous again, desperately trying to swallow down that all too familiar sensation. But this time, it wasnât due to the hormones wreaking havoc in your tummy, it was Jakeâs presence at this incredibly horrid time that had your belly flipping in slow motion somersaults.Â
Josh huffed a laugh that nearly replicated Jakeâs. Mimicking his twin to further his irritation, no doubt. You knew Josh was in no mood to put up with Jakeâs piss-poor attitude, especially given everything he had discovered. You were tightly holding your breath at whatever the hell could possibly come from Josh's mouth, hoping that he would say as little as possible.
âFunny that you should ask, Jacob,â Josh retorted. He turned his head to the left to make eye contact with his twin, his fingers were still gripped to the steering wheel with a force that turned his knuckles stark white.
What was he about to say? Shit. He knew better. . . right?
âBecause," Josh began. "I donât exactly believe itâs any of your business what we're doing. In fact, I know itâs none of your business.â
Ironic. . . because it most definitely was his business. He just didnât know it. Not yet.
He flashed Jake his classic Josh grin, extra wide with eyes squinted, an extra, added dramatic flair of his fluttering eyelashes to seal his condescending statement.Â
You let out the breath you had been holding, thankful that Josh kept from saying too much. This was not how you wanted Jake to find out. Although, you still had no idea when or how you would approach that.Â
All you knew for sure, was that this wasnât the right time.Â
Jake had stood firm the entire time, a brow raised with an obviously fake grin that held his lips in a tight line. His first response was a snicker through his nose and a patronizing simper, just shy of a full on scowl.Â
ââKay, got it,â he sneered. Then, he was patting the side of the driver's door with his opened palm before swiftly turning on his heel to walk away. He forcibly shoved his hands in the front pockets of his black jeans as he sauntered off, and you couldnât help but notice how it stretched the fabric even tighter against his perfectly, rounded ass. A sight you still fawned over, admittedly.Â
How could you not?
But you broke your gaze quickly once Josh turned to face you once again. Even though he finally knew about the special addition that you shared with his brother, youâd still feel awkward (and a little guilty) as fuck if he watched you gawk over him so openly. Especially on a day so sensitive as today.
Josh had let out an exasperated sigh deep from his lungs, his jaw clenched and hard when he finally shut the humming engine off. âI have so much that I want to say to him,â he muttered, mostly to himself as his tone was hushed.
Yeah. Me fucking too, you thought to yourself. Donât you think I get it?
Without the engine running, the car had become dead silent. The type of silence that allowed you to hear the rapid beating of your own heart clearly in your ears. (You even thought for a moment that you could hear Joshâs, too. That kind of quiet. Like earlier. Right after you'd told him.)
It gave you time to ponder. . . Despite his incredible response to all of this today, you still worried. Because, for the first time in the literal years of having Josh as your safe haven, you feared that things could have changed far too much for him to ever look at you the same again.
But then, your never ending train of overthinking was put to a halt when he placed a loving hand on your knee. When his warm eyes connected with yours, they reassured you that he wasnât planning on going anywhere. At least not anytime soon.
âYou ready to go inside, mama?âÂ
His sweet smile that you had loved for years lit up his once hard features. Seeing the signature grin lifted some weight off your heavy shoulders.
You nodded your head and unbuckled your seatbelt as he did the same. But as you lifted the latch on the passenger door, another thought began clouding your mind, a question that you felt you needed to ask someone. That you needed to ask Josh.
âHey. . .,â you started as he already had one foot out the door.
He stalled his movements and promptly turned his head to face you.Â
âYeah?â he answered, the same smile still cocked in the corner of his mouth.
âWhen should I tell him?â
He situated himself back inside, resting his back against the dark leather. His eyes were cast on yours, soft and kind as youâd always known them to be, yet a seriousness found within them.Â
âThatâs up to you, mama. You have to decide when the time feels right.â His gentle hand reached to grab your shoulder in a reassuring gesture, effectively pulling you away from your burdening thoughts.Â
Once youâd finally made your way out of the car, you heard him clear his throat and looked to see what else he had to say. He was squinting at you through the autumn dayâs rays when he finished the line of thought heâd started in the car.
âBut. . . knowing my twin, heâd want to know sooner rather than later. Donât wait too long, love. Heâs got a good heart, you know that. Give him the chance to step up like I know he will.â
-đŒđŒđŒ-
Friday, November 11, 2022
Youâd missed the show completely. As you knew you would.Â
Josh had known you were going to show up later than usual since your school work was (quite actually) burying you. Specifically, it was thanks to a 20-page paper that was due tonight.Â
Thankfully, youâd been able to finish it in time to at least meet the boys at the bar (smoke free, Josh had clarified on the phone) theyâd decided to hang out at after the show. You hadnât hung out with them after a show in forever. Hadnât even been to a show in. . .well, you didnât even know how long.
The reason could be mostly chalked up to your intense homework load this semester, but part of you knew youâd also been trying to avoid them due to the addition of Maya.Â
It just didnât feel the same anymore. And you knew you couldnât force yourself to pretend. So, the extra school work turned out to be a pretty good excuse. At least you werenât fabricating anything when youâd told them you couldnât make it. (Although you would prefer if you didnât have so much fucking homework.)
But you did miss watching Jake perform. You missed the faces heâd make while playing his guitar, the ones that so closely resembled the oneâs heâd make with you. The way heâd thrust himself into his beloved instrument, or pull it close to his body with a force that left your head reeling and your body in dire need for him.Â
As much as you missed all of that, something you missed even more was witnessing how his passion exuded through his entire body while he played. How his love for his art was so wonderfully evident as he put so much of himself into every song he played.Â
And with the way your body kept betraying you â literally pulsing with desire for him anytime he was simply near you . . . to the point of needing to relieve yourself with your hands or a toy. . . You were weak as fuck. You figured it probably wasnât the best idea to watch him perform like that with your hormones going ballistic. Â
Too many factors worked together to make you feel rather uncomfortable about being near him in that capacity. But. . . here you were. Waiting at the bar for them to arrive.Â
Putting yourself in a situation where heâd inevitably be near â sitting at the same booth as you, most likely. Admittedly, it wasnât your most incredible idea. But Josh telling you the other guys had been missing you made you realize how badly youâd missed them.Â
So. Here you were. Scrolling on pregnant influencersâ Instagram pages for helpful tips and testimonials (and occasionally Jakeâs page, just to torture yourself) as you waited for them.
Just as youâd thought to send Josh a text letting him know you were at the bar and sitting at a booth near the back, you felt the urge to pee like no other. Your belly had sort of popped in the few days that had transpired since your first ultrasound. You were learning that twelve weeks on your body was the. . . rounder version of twelve weeks. . . Which was not working in your favor to hide your changing body.Â
Thankfully, the rest of your body looked mostly the same as normal â save for your boobs which were still about as big as they were in your Shining twin costume (not growing too much more yet, but continuing to be sore as hell). They werenât giant, per se, but they definitely looked noticeably bigger and felt fucking heavy.
So, you were officially having to wear looser-fitting clothing to avoid anyone looking at you differently. To be fair, to most eyes, it probably would've looked like some weight gain around your midsection if you wore normal clothing. But to you, it literally just looked like you were pregnant.Â
You were definitely getting used to waking up every morning to a body that looked just a little different than the day before. Noticed every little changeâbut they didnât feel little to you. . . Anything that changed felt massive to you. Â
. . .Hence why you were being overly cautious with the giant sweaters. . . Because, to you, it looked so obviously different that you didnât want to risk people thinking anything or asking any questions.
And, thanks to your newly expanding uterus and a spike in your progesterone (according to your Ovia app), you were beginning to actually wiggle in your seat from the urge to pee. It was all rather unkind on your poor bladder. . .  You had to fucking relieve yourself soon or you would be peeing your leggings. It would be embarrassing as hell to pee yourself and smell like it for the entire evening.
Though, you realized, as people started filtering in, that you couldnât get up to pee. . . It was too much of a risk that youâd lose the one big booth to this hastily growing Friday night crowd.
Just as youâd started contemplating your lack of options, a particular laugh youâd gotten (unfortunately) used to, made its way through the crowded bar. Your eyes zoomed to the dark haired, caramel-skinned beauty whoâd taken up residence in Jakeâs life.Â
Maya.Â
Her laugh was just as beautiful as she was. . . Directing every eye in the front of the establishment to her as they joined in on whatever she was laughing about. She was a force to be reckoned with and it was obvious anytime you saw her. You were pretty sure you could see her chocolate eyes actually sparkling, all the way from across the bar.
Then, here you were in a giant ass Pratt hoodie with plain black, ratty leggings and your white Chucks. Feeling bloated and gross. . . And still needing to really fucking pee. So you had to put your insecurities to the side and get up from the spot youâd effectively heated up for the last twenty minutes because your one and only solution had just walked in.Â
You didnât want to walk away and lose your spot, so you did the only thing you could think to do.Â
âMaya!â You called in her direction, tucking your phone into your hoodie pocket with one hand while the other waved at her. An incredibly forced smile was plastered to your face.Â
Is this the first time Iâve ever spoken to her? You wondered briefly.Â
Even though you knew the answer.Â
Yes, definitely the first time Iâve ever talked to her. Weird. And funny fucking cause for it, too, you giggled to yourself, just behind your close-mouthed grin.
It was as if sheâd already seen you, because she looked at you with a knowing look. She sent you a (stupid) wink and a (stupid, yet admittedly kind) wave, along with a wide smileâbright white teeth complimented by her full lips.Â
Standing up had caused your bladder to go into emergency modeâa sensation similar to nearly bursting was the only way you could describe it. And, strangely, you suddenly felt sort of dizzy from the overwhelming pressure.Â
Thatâs odd, you thought absently, brows wrinkling ever so slightly with the feeling. Ignoring it, you kept waving. And, the smile slipped from your face as you urgently motioned her over. Getting the hint, she said goodbye to the few patrons sheâd been talking with and made her way to you.Â
Long, wavy hair, inky as the night sky, flowed in waves around her shoulders as she sweetly pushed through people on the way to the booth.Â
Every man she passed had to do a double take, watching her as she passed by them. . . You didnât blame them. She was a fucking dream. (And you hated it.)
Body positively snatched and voluptuous in her all-black outfit. Her large breasts, exposed just right in her extremely low-cut black shirt. The shirt dipped all the way to the middle of her rib cage, exposing a lot of her perfect, perky breasts and tight abdomen. The tiny waist just below the dip was intimidating at best and had you feeling extremely self conscious of your nearly non-existent waist (thanks to the tiny friend living inside of you). You were glad you couldnât see her ass, because you knew the exquisitely round part of her would have you heading for the door rather than the restroom.Â
God, why did she have to look like a damn model? It was the worst possible thing for you. You were sure of it.
Once she was finally at the table, you didnât want to stand there and stare at her. She had you feeling ready to jump out of your unfamiliar, changing body. Made you feel like nothing, just by standing there.
And, most importantly, you were nearing the risk of peeing with a singular movement at this point. You really werenât sure how youâd make it to the restroom, but you had to try.Â
You were already toeing around the table, out of the booth, when you spoke to her, averting your eyes and finding the restroom sign instead. âIâve gotta pee really fucking bad,â you hastily said, taking the final step from the back of the booth. âCan you save this table for me so we have a place to sit?â
âWe?â She questioned. âY/n, I would definitely normally save it for you and your friends, but I have to work on finding my own place since Iâm waiting here for Jake and theâ.â
âJake and the guys, I know.â You snapped, eyes flashing as you finished for her, not focusing on your facial expression. You were almost positive you rolled your eyes at her comment.Â
Does she not know? Why? Did no one tell her?
Bouncing on the heels of your feet, back and forth, you quickly continued. Matter at hand. âIâm here to hang with you guys, too, but Iâve gottaâ.â
âPee!â She finished, a giggle that was probably supposed to be cute left her lips. âGo! Iâll save it. Go, go, go!âÂ
You were already walking away with her last sentence, hearing her from behind your back as you focused on not wetting your pants on the way to the ladies room.Â
-đŒđŒđŒ-
When you got back out, you were instantly met with the sight of all of the guys at the back booth youâd saved.
Your eyes, sadly, found Jake and Maya first â sitting practically on top of each other in the back corner of the booth. She was wrapped up in Jake, while engaging in a conversation with Sam. And, even though she seemed to only be halfway listening, Sammy kept on talking like she was interested in only him.Â
But with the way Jakeâs hand toyed with the hair over her shoulder and eventually traveled to squeeze (and hold) her waist. . . you knew why she wasnât fully listening. Sammy would not be getting her full attention any time soon, and you knew that from personal experience. If it were you Jake was playing with like that, you would have tuned Sam completely out.Â
Pushing any emotion down that threatened to boil up to the surface, you kept on walking to the booth.Â
And when you got close enough, all of the attention was suddenly on you. The first one to notice you was Danny, who got up from his end seat on the booth to greet you with a giant hug. You sank into him, feeling all of the love that he was emitting sink into your sore body.Â
Then, Sam was loudly exclaiming your presence, telling you that he was waiting for his own hug.Â
You went around the three brothers who wanted to give you a squeeze.Â
Sam hugged you especially hard, making your boobs ache like no other when he pressed hard against you. Gratefully, Josh had been paying attention when you caught his eye with a pained expression and had loudly determined that it was his turn.
After Josh had grasped you from Sam and given a loose hug, you stood awkwardly. Waiting. But for what?
But. . .you knew what. . .knew why.
It was Jakeâs turn.Â
Though, all you got was a little close-lipped smile and a half-wave with a head nod from his spot next to his supermodel girlfriend.Â
You reciprocated with essentially the same response, your stomach falling to your feet as you did so. It was ludicrous to think heâd get up for a hug, too. Especially with Maya sitting next to him with her perfectly-fucking-manicured hand clutching the inside of his thigh.Â
God, you needed to feel him close to you, though. You needed your hand on his inner thigh, dangerously close to a place on his body thatâd been so accustomed to yours. You couldnât help the way you yearned for him to be inside of you again. . . It was fucking embarrassing as hell.
And, then there was an incredibly intrusive thought.Â
It told you that, for some (strange) reason, the idea of his pecs pressing into your sore breasts. . .sounded extremely appealing. (And the thought of his hands or his warm, wet mouth on them? Fuck.)Â
Butâ you knew at this point, there was a fat chance of that ever happening.
He didnât want you near him like that. And definitely not his hands or mouth on you. So you were sure he did not want a measly hug either.
And right now? In this bar? At this exact time? Obviously-fucking-not. Why would he move away from perfection? For you? In your frumpy-ass outfit? As you glanced down self-consciously, you even noticed one white sock peeking way higher than the other from your high-tops.Â
Small details. Small details that showed how much of a fucking mess you were in comparison to her.
When you heard his laugh cut through the wave of emotion you were feeling, you looked back up at him. Only to see that he was engaged with Maya and Sam in some (apparently) hilarious conversation.Â
He didnât give two shits about you that way anymore. Why would he?
The terrible things youâd said to him in the kitchen were the first reason that came to your mind. Haunted you everyday, reminding you that you didnât deserve his attention.Â
You bet she, in her utter perfection and 'sunshiney' ways, would never tell him the things you had. He was probably relishing in the mental break she provided him. A break from the emotional thunderstorm that was you.Â
But what the two lovebirds didnât know was that you were carrying a part of him within you that she couldnât do a thing about. No matter what she was to him, she didnât have what you did.Â
Though, the depressing truth of the matter was even if you were carrying his baby, Maya was still the one falling asleep next to him more nights than not. You had a piece of him, yes, but she had all of him.Â
Fuck. That felt selfish. Without even thinking about it, you brought your hands up to your stomach as an effort to apologize to the little lemon-sized baby in your tummy.Â
You are enough for me, you desperately thought, looking down, hoping to translate the words somehow to your unborn bundle of hope. You give me plenty of joy.Â
âY/n,â Josh spoke, breaking you from your reverie.Â
âMmm?â You hummed.
Then he was leaning over, whispering so quietly in your ear. âYouâre about to give particular notice to your stomach.â
Shit. You instantly dropped your hand, looking around to make sure no one had noticed.Â
Thankfully, no one had.Â
You mouthed a âthank youâ to your best friend, and scooted into the space he and Daniel had left for you, between them, on their side.Â
Sitting again helped to balance you, as the dizziness from earlier kept coming back in tiny spurts. You didnât know what it was all about, but you knew it was probably something attributed to pregnancy. It was probably something normal that you didnât need to be worried about.Â
But, you figured having someone to lean on would help to keep you steady. So, you found Joshâs shoulder, pressing against him. It was more than necessary, so you let your shoulder lazily lay against his arm. The closeness to a safe person felt overwhelmingly comforting in the otherwise emotionally-wrought headspace you were experiencing.Â
-đŒđŒđŒ-
About an hour later, you found yourself humming along to the music that had gotten progressively louder over the time youâd been sitting with the guys. Getting lost in the melodies felt nice. And youâd noticed, walking in that night, that it was soul music night, according to the sign on the front door of the bar.
Your favorite.
After sitting with them for only a few minutes, making small talk with Sam and Danny to catch up, youâd essentially let yourself become an observer. Youâd just listened to them talk about all of these new, sudden opportunities that were coming around for them.
So much was changing.Â
They were essentially done with the smaller gigs. Their labelâs management had put their foot down that they were done with those. They wanted them going to more popular, reputable places to get their name out there. The label had taken it upon themselves to work with their manager to put them in bigger venues. Theyâd even begun advertising the boys with promotional pictures and posters all over active streets in Brooklyn.
âWeâve had photoshoots, y/n,â Sam had boasted in wonder at one point, making sure to involve you in the conversation. âPhotoshoots! Like, real rockstar things.â
ââS fucking nuts,â Daniel agreed, nodding beside you, sending you a small smile. âPeople working on wardrobe for us and all that shit.â
âWell, you are rockstars,â you told Sammy genuinely, letting your eyes skate to each of the boys (save for one). But, when you finished your statement, you let your eyes find him. And his eyes literally melted into yours. Like heâd been waiting for you to acknowledge him. âYouâve been ready for this for a long time. Iâm just glad you are finally getting to live it.â
But you tore your gaze away before it could become too much. Though, the snicker you heard from Maya made your eyes cut to her. You forced yourself to hold your tongue. Didnât trust yourself with what might come out of your mouth. What had her feeling all bitter and shit? She didnât get the fucking half of it.
That particular thought had your hands falling to clasp tightly against your tummy, thankfully hidden by the table.Â
Theyâd also begun working on their first album (which you knew about), but its release date had officially been set in stone for May. It was daunting for you and felt huge to you, so you couldnât imagine how it felt for them.Â
It was all moving so fast. . . Which, if you were being honest, terrified you for what was to come in the near future. The little bean that was set to arrive around the time of the albumâs release. Because of all of your recent . . .changes, it just felt like a terrible time for things to feel so unsure and abnormal.Â
You knew it was selfish to feel that way. You did. It was just impossible to not feel worried and anxious.Â
The stress inevitably started climbing up into your upper back, creating tension. And, Josh, being Josh, mustâve sensed a change in your demeanor. Heâd wrapped his arm around your shoulders when you started feeling all bunched up and jittery. Youâd leaned into it, needing the incredible amount of comfort in his embrace and presence.Â
The music was setting your mind at ease from the tension you felt in your body. It also helped to alleviate the awkward air you felt with the proximity of Jakeâs guest. Who sat there looking so beautiful all night. Jakeâs arm hadnât left her shoulders all night, twirling her long waves between his long fingers. You had to look away at several points. It didnât take long for the sight to become too much. Your ever-present nausea only increased by watching them.Â
So you didnât watch. Didnât allow yourself to look at him.
You breathed in the music. The music saved you. You just listened to the music. The world was a blur.Â
But, when they all joined in on mutual excitement, all smiles and voices getting louder, you tuned back in just slightly.
And when you did, they were talking about one particular thing they were all looking forward to: a special event of sorts that was coming up.Â
Apparently it was a huge thing for this event to take place. One final step before embracing the stardom. It would happen in a few monthsâ time â once the label execs heard a few songs, and released them as singles. Then, they would get to preview them to the public.Â
It would be an intimate type of event, more like old times, but for a few semi-important people who worked for the tour management team and whoever else wanted to come. It would be a listening party where the boys would play their new music. And according to the boys, it was the labelâs attempt to get an idea of touring being a possibility.Â
A lot of it was pinned on if the turnout was good. On how the guys interacted with the crowd. How the performed. . . It would be a sort of audition for the tour management team.Â
âI have faith that theyâll love us,â Sammy said, buzzing with excitement. âIâm speaking that shit into existence.âÂ
The rest of the guys agreed.
Your eyes inadvertently snapped to Jake when he spoke next. âAnd once we start touring. . .,â he said, grin huge and his eyes shining at the other guys. âThatâs when it all becomes fucking real. And itâll be here before we even know it.â
Your stomach fell.
Josh squeezed your knee after heâd said it, knowing exactly what you were thinking.
Your thoughts were fucking spiraling. Looking down, you closed your eyes to will the tears awayâ tried your best to be subtle with your bundled up emotions.Â
You felt so excited for him. You wanted it for themâfor him. All along, youâd wanted him to live his dream. The one heâd had for so long. But the idea of him going off and away. . . All of them being so far away, all of the time, right at the time your life would be inevitably changing for the rest of forever. . . It was a lot to wrap your mind around.
It had your stomach tied in fucking knotsâthe idea of Jake being a dad, but not getting to be one. Leaving you. Leaving the baby. It wouldnât be a bad thing, per se, but it was going to hurt like hell.Â
You swore, right then and there, that you would not let him give it up for anything. Not a baby, definitely not you (not that heâd want to abandon it for you) â it was the last thing you wanted. The last thing that would happen.Â
He would live the dream. Even if you had to force him to do so.
No matter how badly you already knew youâd want him around during that massively transformative time. . . You were capable of doing it on your own. And Elsie would help. She would most definitely be around, you already knew.Â
But. . . Jake.Â
You shoved the thoughts down to the tresses of hell, literally planting your feet flat on the floor to center yourself to present time. Shifting a bit, you laid your head on Joshâs shoulder, letting your eyes drift closed after a while. Didnât sleep, no, but you felt like you could have. Your body felt loose and weak from the nightâs stress slowly leaving your body as you focused on Joshâs steady breathing and the music.Â
As the night wore on, the volume had ended up getting so loud that everyone practically had to yell at one another to have a conversation, even within the close confines of the booth.Â
So, you had to blink your eyes open at that point. It was too much. The over-stimulation was soon approaching. You could feel it. You felt. . . heavier than normal. Like, you were being pulled down to the earth with exhaustion. Which was new, but probably just over-stimulation.
Even with your eyes open, they were hooded. You were so tired, you felt as though you couldnât open them much more. And the dizziness from earlier was back with force.Â
So you focused on swaying your body a little to the rhythm of each song, tapping out the beat of each on the table. Josh had instinctively begun humming along with you while still managing to keep conversation with everyone else. Heâd sneak the occasional smile to give a sign of him remaining loyal to your company as well as the othersâ.
The melodious harmonies of Stevie Wonderâs "Please Don't Go" had been a surprise, as it was a more unpopular hit of his. It was a welcome distraction to listen to a song you knew well over the speakers, for all ears to hear. Nothing beat hearing songs you loved, playing in public spaces.Â
Oh, Stevie. His songs had historically been known to bring you peace. Always had. Always would. Stevie's music never failed to meet you where you were emotionally. This song, not being an exception, and hitting extremely close to home for the present time. . . But still, the tension youâd felt all night began to dissipate, sizzling out almost completely with the beautiful ending of the track.
Just as the heavy weight of your anxieties youâd carried all night had lifted, the next song started to ring throughout the building.
Only this time, the feeling it gave you was a far cry from the previous.Â
You knew it instantly. Youâd be able to hear this song even if it werenât blaring throughout the building.Â
As soon as the first note sounded, it sent a vibration straight to your heart and a swarm of butterflies (that actually felt more like bees) to your tummy.Â
You hadnât looked at him yet, but you felt Jakeâs eyes piercing through you.Â
You didnât want to look at him. Not yet.Â
Your hormones had been far too out of whack for that. You knew youâd cry instantly upon seeing his face while this song played at a volume that you now wish was much, much lower.
Arethaâs powerhouse voice repeated it over and over again.Â
Youâre all I need to get by, youâre all I need to get by, youâre all I need. . .
No, you werenât looking at Jake. But he was still the only vision clouding your mindâs eye.Â
You were back on your living room floor. . . his eyebrows bunched together with each heavy thrust into you, the sweat that accumulated between them, the perspiration and exertion that could only come from real intimacy. . .passion.
And it was plain to see that you were my destiny. . .
His coffee colored eyes that bore into you as his body connected with yours in the most intimate way that it couldâve.Â
And when I lose my will, youâll be there to push me up that hill. . .
How he filled you so completely, stretching you the only way you ever wanted. . . How, in that moment, it felt like he was made to fit you. Your body, your heart, your life.
I donât know whatâs in store, but together we can open any door. . .Â
Without even meaning to, your eyes met his.Â
And while Maya was going on about whatever she felt the need to talk about, he was watching you. His eyes were extremely thoughtful. . . So much being communicated behind them.Â
If you were delusional, youâd even go so far as to say he was admiring you. . . The way his eyes flashed a bit as you watched him, too.Â
But you werenât delusional.Â
Though, you just knew that he was thinking the same thing as you. . . He knew. He knew this song was special.Â
And as much as you attempted to not wear your emotions, with your condition, it was impossible.
You felt your eyes prick with tears as the song came to an end, and you quickly put your head down for what you knew was coming. And when the small drop hit your cheek, as soon as it appeared, you wiped it away.Â
You looked back up, sniffing once and shaking your head.
Why did I have to fucking look?
âGod, I wish theyâd play music from this century here for once. Or at least something halfway decent,â Maya snickered, her attention on Jake, pulling his gaze away from you with her ignorant remark. âThis song could put me straight to sleep. Music like this is meant to be left in the past where it belongs.âÂ
What the hell? What was even the point?Â
What she said had your blood boiling with red hot rage. Of course she had to pick this song to insert her disgusting opinion.
And how was Jake, of all people, in a relationship with someone who thought so little of older music? How did he put up with that shit? It would be really fucking hard to hear things like that all the time if you were in his shoes.
A look of pure disgust washed over Joshâs face, and you knew he wouldnât take her shit laying down. Not when it came to good, classic soul music. Not to mention, Aretha was one of his biggest vocal inspirations. âHow can you not appreciate the Queen of Soul? She paved the way for singers of every genre, her voice is timeless and immaculate. To criticize her is to criticize all music.âÂ
His defensive tone had everyone silent for an almost uncomfortable amount of time.
You wanted to chime in and let her know that you agreed with everything he said. But you felt it best to keep your mouth shut given the real reason you were so pissed. Didnât trust your emotions to stay steady enough to get your point across.Â
This was personal.
To your shock, it was Jake that ended up breaking the awkward silence at the table. âYou know, babe, some of us have some pretty significant memories tied back to music like this,â he asserted, sharply, pulling away from her, dropping his arm from her shoulders to look at her better. âThis song specifically. . . At least for me.â
Your heart leapt into your throat at what he was implying. Significant? He couldnât mean. . .? But then he flashed his eyes to you. And you knew.Â
Fuck, Jake. The butterflies let completely loose in your tummy at the implication. At the look.Â
He continued, his voice growing softer, while staying assertive. âAnd it could very possibly be hurtful to others when you say surface level shit like that.â
Maya scoffed, rolling her eyes. This was the first time youâd ever witnessed the woman be something other than a dream. âSo I canât have opinions, hm?âÂ
âI never saidâ,â Jake tried, getting interrupted by her continuing.Â
She was piercing him with a glare, tone biting. âDid you ever stop to think about how it hurt my feelings when you refused to see 21 Savage with me? And after I got us the tickets, no less?âÂ
You didnât mean to snort a small laugh at her words.Â
But. . . 21 Savage?!
Thankfully, you werenât alone in finding amusement in the words as everyone else had a similar response. Sammy spit out the drink heâd just taken, some of it even coming out of his nose. Daniel had clapped a hand over his mouth and dragged it down his face, closing his eyes in the process.Â
And Josh turned to you as soon as you turned your sights to him. He made eyes at you, raising his brows with a grin threatening to turn into a laugh. If he couldâve spoken, you assumed heâd say something along the lines of âoh, shit.â
Sam was the next to speak, barely able to catch a breath as he wiped the leftover drink from around his mouth with a napkin. âMaya, my dear,â he giggled, the words distorted a little by the wipe of the napkin. âYou surely canât have an emotional connection with his music?â
âMaybe I do,â she retorted, scooting away from Jake a little. Crossing her arms over her cleavage, she eyed Sammy, judgmentally. âMaybe it saw me through some really hard times.â
âDid it?â Danny tried, his face seeming earnest in pursuit to find sense in her music taste.Â
âWell,â her eyes found Dannyâs, but darted around a bit, still. âNot necessarily. . . But I do enjoy his music. . . Which is my prerogative.â
Joshâs brow was quirked. He stared her down, his face a mixture of amusement and annoyance. âMaya,â he cleared his throat. Her eyes found him, hard and defensive. But it was obvious she was losing some steam. âThere is a difference between enjoying music and having it change the entire trajectory of your entire life.â
Before she could sputter out a response, the waiter was back at the head of the table with the two pizzas the guys had ordered.Â
âOne pepperoni pizza,â she said, placing one giant tray of pizza on the table.Â
Your nose immediately picked up on the overwhelming scent of cheese and pepperoni. You had never smelt something so greasy. This was even worse than the greasy smell at Waffle House on the morning youâd gone with Elsie. And where there, you could find some sort of nostalgic comfort in the smell of it. . . there was nothing that could make this pizzaâs smell appealing. Fuck.
âAnd. . .,â Sammyâs excited tone broke through your nauseous reverie.Â
You didnât look up, only watched in near agony as the second pizza, filled with every vegetable in the book, was sat right in front of you. Every fucking vegetable had itâs own special, rancid smell that you hadnât ever noticed until now.Â
Goddamn. And it just got worse as you let your eyes follow a slice that Sam took off the tray, cheese so disgustingly stringy, to his waiting mouth. The way his teeth sunk into the pizza and the oil slipped down his chin. . . You felt the bile rise in the back of your throat at the sight. The dizziness set in again. Then there was the cheese that came to the corner of his mouth as he chewed his first bite with an open mouth.Â
Closing your eyes, you tried your best to will it away.Â
But you couldnât. It was too late. Behind your closed eyes, all you could see was the sight again, but this time, in slow motion. . . more and more repulsive with every flash of the image.Â
You found Joshâs leg, hitting it repeatedly to indicate that you needed out of the booth. Your other hand, held tightly over your mouth, which felt as though it could explode with projectile vomit at any moment.Â
That would be real cute. A really effective way to make Jake look at you. . . but not for the reasons youâd want.Â
At. All.
Thankfully, Josh got the hint and quickly scooted out of the booth to allow you out.Â
And as soon as your feet hit the concrete floor, you were speeding to the bathroom once more. This time, immediately landing on your knees over the toilet with a hand clutching your hair, as you retched the (very little) contents of your stomach into the toilet.
It was alarming, to say the least, as you saw only clear saliva goo floating around in the bowl. . . no food accompanying the sickness youâd just produced.Â
I havenât eaten today, you thought suddenly, wiping your brow of the sweat that had accumulated. Nothing to puke out because everything sounded vile.
And then the dizziness was setting in again as you rose from your place on the ground.
You really hadnât been eating much at all. And pickles, being the only thing you could stand to eat, did not give you proper nutrients. You knew that.Â
Have to figure something out, you decided as you washed your hands. Disturbingly, you saw four hands instead of two and it was daunting at best. Need to go home and do some research so I can figure out how to fucking eat something.
By the time you got back to the booth, you already had your keys out of your belt bag.Â
Josh gave you a sympathetic grin. He mouthed an âIâm sorryâ and you just shook your head, reassuring him with a mimicked âItâs fineâ in response.
When you snapped your head up from Josh to say bye to the others, you realized that Jake was watching you closely. Pensively. Unsurely.Â
You gulped, setting your eyes on him. If only you knew, Jake. . . But, suddenly, anger was flaring in the place of any butterflies. Lack of food and pregnancy could do that to a person. But you donât know. So quit looking at me.Â
âYou feelinâ sick, Baby Dragon?â Sam said, breaking you out of your staring contest with Jake.
âYeah, noticed you werenât drinking tonight. . . you okay?â Danny interjected.Â
âOâOh, yeah. No, yeah,â you shook your head, which only caused your head to throb. Shit. âJust tired. Exhausted from school.â And from carrying a human life in my uterus. âI wanna get home and rest.â
âI forced her to come tonight,â Josh added. He looked at you before exchanging looks with the other guys, emphasizing his point to help you out. âShe has had her nose to the fucking grindstone. I insisted she needed a night out.â
âForced her?â Jake scoffed with a roll of his eyes. âGod, y/n. If you donât want to come, then donât come.â
You fumed at his words. What the fuck? Just minutes ago he was jumping to defend your song. âHe didnât force me,â you growled back at him. Donât test a pregnant woman carrying your goddamn baby, Jacob. âWhat he meant was that he encouraged me to come since I havenât been around for a while.â
âAnd whyâs that?â Jake pushed, continuing to jest at you. Is this a game to you, asshole?Â
âJake,â Josh snapped, tone sharp and heated.Â
âSchool,â you asserted (with a partial lie), shutting your eyes when you started seeing two of him. When you opened them to stare back at him, you focused hard as you continued to see four brown eyes instead of two. âBut thatâs not really any of your business is it, Jake?â
He was silent, his jaw clenching. Then he looked back to Maya, starting a conversation with her, effectively shutting you out.Â
You werenât sure how long you could put up with the hot and cold act from him. You knew that he was hurt, but you preferred the moments in recent times where heâd shown the soft side of his heart. The Jake side of his heart.Â
The one flashing through your mind at this moment was on the night of the Halloween party. When heâd picked up the dropped brownies for you and then offered to help you carry stuff to your room. . . albeit he had been drunk. Itâd still been him. You knew it. It was something heâd do. . . you knew him.Â
And you knew him well enough to know when he was acting like an ass, it meant he was hurt. You werenât oblivious to the recent hurt youâd inflicted on him. . . but why was he suddenly reacting like this again? Why now?
When another wave of dizziness took you over, you had to once again shut your eyes to keep your balance, and you held tight to the strap of your bag. Your head was also, once again, pulsing.
You opened your eyes and tried to stay steady, as you didnât want to worry the three who cared. Pulling your phone from the pocket of your oversized hoodie, you shook your keys at the guys who still watched with concerned eyes.Â
âBe safe,â Danny offered sympathetically, reaching a hand out. You grasped it, rubbing your thumb over the back.Â
As soon as he let go, Sam was up and pulling you into a hug. Once heâd succeeded in killing your boobs again, he held onto your shoulders. âWe miss you,â he said, breath thick with alcohol that was making your stomach turn. You held your breath and tapped at his hand politely before scooting back from him. âLove you, y/n.â
You repeated the phrase back to him before Josh got up, presumably to walk you to the door. âI promise Iâll start coming around more often again,â you told them. âI miss you, too.â
And just before you stepped to head toward the exit, you found Jakeâs eyes again.Â
They were softer now, showing concern he couldnât hide at your current state. But there was still that fire behind them that youâd learned was purely Jake. And it made your heart thump a little harder in your chest.
-đŒđŒđŒ-
The tiredness was unreal. You honestly couldnât remember the last time you were so fucking exhausted. Everything that had been happening recentlyâthe therapy, telling Josh that you were pregnant with his twinâs baby, being pregnant with said baby (and worrying that you werenât), taking sixteen-fucking-hours of classes. . . it had been a lot. That much was obvious as hell.Â
And tonight had been emotionally taxing for sure. . . and knowing you, you knew it was more than extremely possible that the emotions alone had been whatâd finally done you in. Drained you for all you were worth.
Well, that, and the lack of food in your system. And the persistent barfing.
You'd been poring over the resources that Dr. Rose had given you access to. And, one of the links on their site had informed you that it was extremely possible for the fatigue to peak around this point of the pregnancyâten to twelve weeks.
And considering you were right about at 12 or so, it was on the mark.
But when youâd read that, you hadnât been expecting the feeling to be similar to that of being weighed down to the Earth by heavy-ass lead. You were dying to fall into bed and sleep off the exhaustionâright after taking a measly Tylenol for the pounding headache thatâd been burgeoning for the past several minutes.Â
All you could do at this specific moment, though, was focus on drivingâand pulling into the apartment complex with as much precision as possible. The pain in your head was beginning to make your vision blurry and the things around you waved in ways you knew they werenât supposed to. Goddamn.Â
You finally made it to your parking spaceâby the grace of some higher entity. But, as soon as you tried to move to get out, everything around you began to spin at an accelerated speed. Moaning, you brought two shaking hands up to your eyes as you closed them. You started to count to ten, trying your best to take deep breathsâbut even that was getting hard to do. Fuck.Â
Finding your motherfucking bearings was proving to be a task and a half.Â
And your head was just fucking throbbing relentlessly.Â
âDammit,â you groaned again, the words slurring just a bit.Â
Somehow, though, you were able to make the trek from your car to the complexâs staircaseâso close, yet so far, from your place. But you could feel the way your heart was thrumming quickly in your chestâjust pounding against your ribcage from the basic action of walking.
Everything began waving around you again. You felt like you were floating and your head was becoming lighter and lighter by the second; the only reminder that it housed a brain was the raging, convulsing feeling in your skull.Â
Your vision was incredibly blurry at best, as you looked from the base of the stairs, all the way up to the top. The top of the stairs was hardly visible.Â
Shit. How the fuck am I going to climb these steps like this?
But, you werenât able to contemplate it for much longer before everything started fading more and more, until you felt yourself falling and all you saw was a black abyss.
-đŒđŒđŒ-
The hand you felt holding yours was the only thing that weighed you down to the white room. The other things that you immediately noticed: the sound of steady beeping (which was incessant) and the smell of antiseptic and bleach wafting from the bedding.Â
The bed itself felt reminiscent of high quality cardboard, but the sheets were warmer than you wouldâve expected.Â
Letting your body relax back into the warm, polycotton sheets, you began to drift back to wherever youâd been. But you felt something hold you to the present. It was the someone with the hand who was helping to keep you conscious. The thumb that swept purposefully across the back of your hand tied you to the real world before you could escape to the one behind your eyelids.
Then you felt the hand holding yours squeeze the slightest bit tighter. Your lids were heavy when you squinted them openâimmediately hating the way the fluorescent lighting assaulted your irises. You didnât know if it was possible, but you were damned sure you could feel your pupils adjusting to the overbearing beams from the bulbs.Â
Moaning, you reached your free hand up to cover your eyes. And when you did, you noticed the influx of tubes, taped to and sticking out of your hand. Specifically, the needle connected directly to your vein. What the fuck was going on?
Amidst your confusion, you finally processed who the hand was connected to as you heard his voice.
âYes, yes,â Josh said in response to something. You noticed that he was seeming to squeeze your hand in little pulsing intervals. When you squeezed back to indicate you were awake, his eyes were immediately on you, abandoning his conversation. âY/n? Oh, fuck,â his voice was thick with emotion. His gaze became wet as he checked your face over. âI was so worried about you.â
You didnât know what to say, since you werenât really sure why you were here or what had happened to get you here. . . All you could remember was being tired and dizzy with a pounding in your head.Â
You tried to speak, but it was in vain, as your throat was dry as fuck. All that came from your lips was a measly croak. But, thankfully, Josh was immediately coming to your rescue with one of the hospitalâs giant plastic cups, filled to the brim with water. He held the straw to your lips and you sat up a little to have better leverage to take a drink. To your surprise, the pounding in your head was gone, and there was no dizziness accompanying your movements.Â
And no nausea â best part of all.
As soon as the water slipped past your lips, you shut your eyes in utter relief. Water had never tasted so good. You werenât sure if water even had a taste, but at that moment, you swore it did and that it tasted like liquid gold would.Â
Once youâd had enough for the moment, almost draining the large cup, you backed away and leaned into the pillows that awaited behind you.Â
Sighing in relief, you tried to say words again. And this time, it worked. âWhatâs going on?â You slowly spoke, your head still feeling slightly airy. You let your eyes trail to Joshâs, questioning him. âWhy am I here?â
Then, you started panicking. You shot up from where youâd settled against the pillows, clutching your stomach. The IVâs connected to your hand pulled at your skin, stinging. You ignored the pain though, and felt your tummy. It was still round, but obviously that didnât meanâ oh no. Your deepest fears came to life in your head, piece by terrifying piece. The baby.Â
âOh, fuck, Josh,â you said, your eyes were wild and immediately drew wetness, which ran steadily down your cheeks. No no no no no. âThe baby? Is the babyâ? Ohâ.â
âYes, yes,â Josh shushed you, running his free hand over the top of your head. âThe baby is fine. Already checked and looks the same as it did a few days ago,â his eyes shone with reassurance. âNothing is wrong with the baby.â
âHeartbeat?â
âSteady as can be.â
You felt your lungs fill with air again. âOkay,â you breathed out, leaning back into the pillows once more. âOkay.â
âBut you on the other hand,â he started, his brow raising and eyes burning into yours. âYou need to be giving yourself proper attention, mama.â
âIâ?â You shook your head. You knew you werenât the most attentive to yourself, but youâd tried very hard to be more self-serving recently in some regards. Longer showers, Friends, Cosmic Brownies (RIP) and pickles, therapy (if that counted). . . âIâve been trying. . .âÂ
But the vomiting is proving some of that to be impossible, Joshua, you thought silently, snidely.
âWhat your friend is trying to tell you,â the doctor began. Your eyes shifted to her, an older woman with delicate features whose gray hair was pushed back by a pair of readers. Then her brows wrinkled. âWellâfriend? Father of the baby?â
You both spoke at the same time.
âOh, noâ.â
âNot me,â Josh corrected with a laugh, his smile bright and humored underneath his new mustache. âThatâs my brotherâs baby in there.â
Ridiculously, you began to blush at hearing Josh say it out loud. You were learning that any time it came from his lips, it made your breath catch in your chest just a little.
Jakeâs baby.Â
âOh, my apologies,â she smiled, her crows feet wrinkling, voice wise with years of experience. âI just wanted to proceed using the correct title to address you. Speaking of which, I am Dr. Stevens. Itâs nice to meet you, Miss y/n.â
âSame to you,â you answered with a tiny, unsure smile and nod. âThank you.â
Dr. Stevens hummed, then came to sit on the end of the bed, same side as Josh. You eyed her curiously as her expression turned a touch more serious. âMiss y/n,â she said, sounding like youâd imagine a caring mother would. âYou are here because your iron was frighteningly low,â she said, concerned and checking your chart. âIf it had gone untreated one more night, you would have been incredibly ill and unable to function properly at all come morning.â
âWhat?â You asked, shocked. Anemia wasnât a new thing to you, youâd always had it. How had it intensified so quickly? âI mean, sure, Iâve always had mild anemia. Just kind of a thing thatâs been there . . .havenât thought about it in years, actually,â (because of some damn triggering, buried memories attached to it). âBut Iâve never had â itâs never been as. . . Intense as this,â you held up your hand that was covered in tape and inserted tubes.
âWell, honey, youâre carrying a baby now who also needs those vital nutrients to help it develop,â she counseled. âAnd proper hydration,â she reminded. You nodded, eyes zoned in on your hands, full with pieces of plastic and tape, and not her face. When Dr. Stevens spoke next, her voice was the most stern itâd been so far. âAnd prenatal vitaminsâ those are essential for you and the baby.â
Your eyes flicked up to hers. The way she pierced you with her stare made you lean back like a scolded puppy. Your tail would have been between your legs if you had one.
Why hadnât you bought any damned prenatals yet? Fuck all.
âYes maâam. I donât know why I havenât been takingâ,â you tried, huffing. You were ashamed of yourself. âGod, I feel bad,â you placed two hands on your tummy and looked down at it through the hospital gown youâd been changed into. âHow has all of it not harmed the baby?â
âWell, again, tomorrow would have been a completely different story had you not been rushed in tonight,â she reminded, talking you through it slowly. âBut weâve got fluids pumping through you to get you back to normal.â She motioned to Josh, you looked at him with a small smile that he reciprocated. âAnd your friend has promised to take you for a prenatal run tomorrow morning. To find the ones that you feel might suit you best.â Dr. Stevens smiled, looking over at your bedside table. Your eyes followed, seeing the small medicine bottle sitting there, waiting for you. âFor now, I have a couple ready to send home with you,â she assured.
âIâve never been the best at prioritizing my health,â you mumbled, messing with a loose thread on the hospital gown. Josh held the hand that was anxiously picking at the material, making you stop. You looked over to see his kind, encouraging eyes. âI have ingrained my brain with several unhealthy, learned habits,â you admitted, finally looking at Dr. Stevens again. âSo I guess this was a reality check of sorts. That itâs not just me anymore. I canât just ignore what I need to acknowledge.â
You didnât know what was inspiring the constant flow of transparently deep emotions to all of these unknown people in your life, but you werenât totally opposed to it anymore.Â
Dr. Stevensâ face contorted to show that she had sympathy. You were relieved. But when she spoke next, her voice was firm. âYouâre right. This baby is forcing you to take care of yourself so he or she can survive and come out healthy and happy. I believe this baby is teaching you some proper life skills. But you need to be eating well to help this child have a good, healthy time in the womb. . .help him or her thrive at this vital stage in its life.â
God. She was right. You had seen the words Failure to Thrive on multiple sources youâd checked out about pregnancy. . . .always just skimmed past them, as it didnât seem to pertain to you. But, of course it did. The vomiting. Not taking prenatals (seriously, what the fuck, y/n?). The lack of eating anything (save for the baby pickles). . .
Youâd been so in your head about the present state of your health that you hadnât taken nearly enough time to consider the baby.Â
âIâve just never been bad about eating. This is new,â you confided. âAnd itâs just gotten worse this past week or so. . . I havenât been able to eat. Everything has made me want to vomit.â Then you decided to add, âWell, everything besides pickles. Theyâve been my only source of any nutrients â which I know is pathetic, by the way â I justâjust canât even be in the same room as most food, much less eat it.â
âYouâre experiencing a severe case of hyperemesis gravidarum, which is just a fancy way of saying that youâre excessively vomiting during your pregnancy. Itâs due to a drastic change in hormones. Your HCG levels are through the roof, where theyâre usually not. Most women just have to suffer through it,â she said in response, handing you sheet with the fancy medical term at the top. âThat is an information sheet. Keeps you informed on the ins and outs of why you might be experiencing it.â She sighed before going on. âIt will pass, honey. Give it a few more weeks and you should be over the worst of it â if not before. But being anemic makes it that much worse,â she explained, flipping her readers over her eyes and looking through the papers on her fancy clipboard. âYouâve just gotta stay on top of those preexisting conditions.â
âAnd not taking the prenatals. . .,â she scolded, making you look up from scanning the sheet. She gave you a look. âIs what has you in this condition. You should also be taking an additional iron supplement. Iâm. . . sure you didnât tell your OB about your previous anemia?â She wondered aloud.Â
âNo,â you murmured. âI really havenât seen it present itself since I was really young. And it wasnât really severe. . . at least I donât think,â you rubbed your forehead, suddenly experiencing several sad moments in time. From a long time ago. So, once again, you bared your heart and explained. âThere are things from my childhood that Iâve forgotten. And even though I do actually know I experienced bouts of it during that time, I havenât ever really acknowledged it because I just kind of forced myself to forget about it.â
Really, for some godforsaken reason, thinking about your anemia only brought back very unwelcome flashes of your motherâs house. . . and other dirty places you didnât want to think about. Hence why youâd blocked it out.
Josh squeezed your handâ tried to bring you back.
Thankfully, Dr. Stevens continued before the thoughts could take over. âI am sorry, honey,â she said, empathetic. But, she continued on professionally. âThe hard truth is that some of the things that have always sort of laid dormant can come back with a raging force during pregnancy. . . simply considering that the pregnancy is essentially a revamp on your body,â she paused when you chuckled at the word ârevampâ. Yeah, right. She smirked at it, too. âI know, funny word choice. Doesnât always feel like youâre revamping,â she flipped to the next page in her chart. âWhat I mean is, things can come back up and be biggerâstrongerâthan before. One more thing that is changing and increasing in your body. Medical conditions from the past may come back and get more âintenseâ,â she winked at you, using your word from earlier. âBut, itâs important: now that the anemia has shown itself again â so aggressively â at a time that your body is already very vulnerable. . .â She sighed, flipping her readers back into her dark gray hair before unclipping a paper from the chart and handing it to you. âItâs time we get a handle on all of it before it possibly shows its ugly face again.â
The sheet she handed you included several foods that you could eat to remedy the morning sickness. Some of which had made you feel like puking â or actually puke. But, there were a few things you didnât have at home. Boring, bland foods. Things you just never bought. A few fruits and vegetables. . .
And a shit ton of vitamins.
âA lot of plain Jane stuff on there, I know. And vitamins, vitamins, vitamins,â she acknowledged. âBut those supplements and bland diet are what will see you through the dark ages of this morning sickness. We need to treat that first. And then, you should be able to ease yourself into other foods and get your iron levels healthy again for you and your baby. Please focus on following that guide of foods and vitamins and just call my extension â which I attached to the top of that sheet â if you have any issues.âÂ
She then passed one more sheet over to you and added one more piece of information. âThis sheet will include the Hemoglobin Kit Iâve ordered for you and it will be sent to the address your friend provided for us within the next few days. Please be using it to check your hemoglobin levels. Hemoglobin is the main component of red blood cellsâa proteinâ that we need to see at normal levels. Iâve included where your levels should be on that sheet. They should never be too low or too high. Please read the information on the sheet and in the kit to answer any additional questions you may have. This will help you to track of how your levels are doing and if your anemia is spiking again,â she said, her voice seeming to drone on and on in your ears. âAnd again, call if you have any questions or concerns.â
As you continued reading through the paper, she unclipped another and handed it over to you.
You really were thankful for the documents, really, but dear god there were a lot of them. Virtually and physically. From your OB visit and tonight. It was overwhelming . . . made your skin feel tight and overheated.
It was also a lot of information for you to over-fucking-think.Â
Iâll have to take them to Gia. Sheâll help me sort through them, you reassured yourself, taking a deep breath in and out to calm the nerves.Â
âAnd the morning sickness should. . . pass sooner rather than later?â Joshâs question broke through your reverie. Your eyes shut to refocus on the present moment and not the papers.
âIt should, yes. For most women, it does,â the graying doctor confirmed. âYouâre. . .how far along? Iâd estimate about eleven, maybe twelve weeks?â
âYes,â you nodded. âTwelve weeks according to my OB.â
âYep. You should only have a few weeks â or less â left. Just try the foods on that sheet. The vitamins. Stay hydrated. There are several recommended supplements the sheet provides. You can find most all of them on Amazon.âÂ
You handed the sheets over to Josh, needing them away from you for the time being. You needed to be in the now. Needed to focus on anything else the aging, wise doctor may need to say.Â
To put it plainly, tonightâs event landing you in the hospital had you scared shitless. And learning as much as possible from her would hopefully wind up putting your mind at ease. . . though, at this moment, it just had your heart rate increasing rather quickly.
She eyed the monitor next to your bed, moving closer to it as she observed something. âThere goes that heart rate again,â she squinted at the vitals once more before pushing her glasses into her hair. She looked down at her chart, her lips pursing and readers going back on as she checked it over. âThatâs another thing I want to address,â she hummed, sitting next to your legs, facing you and Josh from her seat. âHave you been under a lot of stress lately? A major change? Besides the baby? Mentally, perhaps? Emotionally?â She questioned. âBecause while your iron levels were scarily low, your heart rate was also dramatically high. Which, yes, is related to the iron levels. . . but, I thought Iâd go ahead and check as more often than not, it can pertain to an extreme amount of stress your heart is under from other sources.â
You stuttered out a response that involved you beginning therapy for the first time in years. You tried to touch on how you were experiencing a lot of emotions around what you would eventually be talking about in therapy. . . how youâd already bared your heart to Gia and opened up every single gate possible to effectively begin therapy.Â
âI wanted to do it. Still do," you explained, needing Dr. Stevens to know that. âI would do it all over again right now if I needed to. Sheâs already helped me so much â after only one session, just with me basically projectile vomiting my past and emotions all over the room.â You took a breath, before finishing. âIt doesnât make it any less difficult though. It hurts. Physically, it hurts to talk about it all. I know it will all come together in the end. I trust the processâI trust my therapist. But it was extremely taxing â on top of everything else Iâm feeling right now.â You glanced over at Josh before adding, âThe babyâs father is. . . heâs just. . .â
âA lot,â Josh finished with a half-chuckle. âHeâs a very good guy. Heâs just a lot.â
âI have a lot of feelings about everything happening in my life right now, Iâll just say that,â you ventured to tell her. âAnd I had somewhat of a handle on my anxiety and depression before I got pregnant, but itâs also been something to resurface in a brand new way with the pregnancy hormones. Without me even knowing it sometimes. And before I know it, my heart is actually hurting my chest from the amount of pressure Iâm putting myself under.â
Josh scooted his chair over closer to you and wrapped one of your hands in two of his, holding on tightly.
âIt hasnât all really clicked until now. . . that all of it might be related to my. . . issues,â you confirmed aloud, peeking over at Josh just briefly before looking back to Dr. Stevens. Youâd just spilled your entire heart and it was making you feel extremely uneasy. God, she hadnât asked to hear all of that. âIâm so sorry about spilling all of whatever that was,â you waved your hands around before combing them through your hair, trying to breathe deep breaths. You found her eyes, which you now realized were green. âI reallyâgod, fuck. Iâmâ that was a lot for you to hear and you didnât ask for the wholeâ.â
âI needed to hear it all,â she consoled you, tapping a comforting hand on the top bed sheet, rather than your leg. âIt helps me assess the situation. . . and from what Iâve heard, it sounds like the most probable cause of you fainting tonight was due to the iron deficiency and your heart.â She assessed the numbers on the blinking monitor yet again. âIt just hasnât slowed much since youâve been here, sweetie. Even with the medications weâve given you to temporarily alleviate it, itâs still been sitting at around 120 beats per minute. And since youâve been awake, itâs spiked enough to cause some concern to this doctor.â
As she expressed her concern again for your thrumming heart, (which you had noticed an increase in itâs pounding as of late) it began beating a little harder once again, causing an unpleasant tightness within your sternum. You winced.Â
Josh noted the change almost as quickly as you did. His hands that held onto yours began squeezing even tighter, the skin of his palms now wet and clammy. He brought your hand, wrapped in his, up to his chin. The hair on his chin was unfamiliar to the last time youâd touched his face (who even knew when you last did that), but it still felt familiar enough against your knuckles to calm some of your nerves.
You couldnât help but look at him with wide, fearful eyes. His eyes were steady on you, his attention only breaking from you to look at Dr. Stevens with a nonverbal note of worry for you.Â
She stood from the bed and came to stand beside you, inserting the buds to the stethoscope around her neck, and held the circular part to your back. âCough for me, sweetie,â she told you, her calm demeanor forcing you to come back from your momentary freak out. âMake it a big one.â
You found it to be an odd request, but you werenât in any place to question this doctor who had shown you nothing but kindness. And offered help when you, apparently, so desperately needed it.
You did as she said, and forced the best cough you could muster. It instantly relieved the tension in your chest, even lowered your heart rate a bit as you watched the blinking numbers begin to drop on the screen.Â
âWh-what was that? Am I having a heart attack?â You felt silly asking her that. . .but you didnât know any better, it may as well have been your body plummeting straight into a cardiac arrest.Â
This was all a lot, and now you were very hyper aware of every little change in your heart that you felt, saw, or heard from the screen.
She chuckled softly, taking the stethoscope away from her ears, hanging once again around her neck. She watched your vitals intently as the blood pressure cuff attached to your left arm (that you hadnât noticed yet) began squeezing you rather uncomfortably.Â
âYouâre not having a heart attack, my dear. Not even close,â she reassured. Although, you still felt the worry present in the pit of your tummy that you were unknowingly clutching again. âI am no stranger to the intense effects of anxiety. Iâve seen it time and time again. I think that was a big part of the palpitation episode you experienced a few minutes ago and the persistent increase in your heart rate I've seen so far tonight. However, I would like to conduct a little further testing. Just want to be sure your heart is nice and strong â for you and for the baby.â
You felt the air from Joshâs lungs release against your knuckles as he let out the breath he mustâve been holding, squeezing your hand just as tight as before. As terrified as you were, his presence provided the safety net your spirit needed to not be thrown back in a massive panic attack.Â
She sat down on the bed next to you once again, her kind eyes offering little comfort right now as you start to feel overwhelmed with the sudden discovery of so many things that were apparently wrong with your body.
âIf you can remember, have you ever been rather sensitive to the heat? Maybe suffered from heat strokes during your youth?âÂ
Her question had your mind yet again returning to your past that had been kept securely behind a locked door with no key. A place you didnât venture often.Â
But it did bring forth some hazy recollections of your days as a child, playing outside in the thick, dry summer heat. How you couldnât stand to be out in it for very long without feeling. . . faint. And dizzy. So fucking dizzy.Â
A long since forgotten trait of yours that you never thought to pay any mind to.Â
âUmâ yeah, actually. Now that I think about it, Summers were always a challenge. I couldnât stand being outside for much longer than a few minutes some days without feeling like I could pass out or throw up,â you huffed a humorless laugh at the memories playing back in your head. Miserable times. âIt was. . .fucking awful.âÂ
Youâd suddenly started to remember all the times you felt faint as a child. But it wasnât always from the rise in temperature. Sometimes, it was from the stresses your mom tossed your way, the fights, the troubles that brewed in your home. It became more and more clear that fainting was most definitely not new to you. You just couldnât remember.Â
âOkay,â Dr. Stevens continued, her hand now patting your shin as she seemed to pick up on the unease of remembering your past. âWhat about when you go to stand up after a period of being seated or lying down, does your vision become a bit obscured at times? Like youâre seeing stars? Tunneled vision, maybe?â
âI mean, y-yeah,â you stuttered. âSometimes. But it doesn't last for very long. Doesnât everybody experience that, though?â
You had no clue where she was going with all of these questionsâ questions that she seemingly already knew the answers to. Of what it all meant, you werenât sure. But you knew you needed her to cut to the chase soon before you began plummeting even further down the anxious path youâd started paving.Â
âWhat does it mean? Is this something I should be worried about?â You asked through newly developed tears you had no control over.Â
Your mind was running rampant with only one singular thought: the baby. What does this mean for the baby?Â
âYou donât need to worry, sweetie. This is actually a lot more common than you think.â
She stood up from the bed, unclipping one more piece of paper from the board sheâd been holding prior to sitting down. She handed it over to you, the paper weighing your hand down with what you were to find on it.Â
But before you could begin to worry about what was on it, she was explaining it to you.
âThat sheet is going to inform you on the ins and outs of Postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome, most commonly referred to as POTs,â she seriously informed, her eyebrows dipping to show concern for your worries that you knew were painted all over your face.Â
âThatâs a funny name,â Josh giggled, the breath from the laugh heâd let out fanned against your knuckles. âLike pots and pans. . . you know?â
You wanted to slap him because, shut the fuck up, Josh, now is not the time, but. . . try as you might, it actually calmed you down a bit. You couldnât help the tiny ghost of a grin that floated over your lips.
Dr. Stevens glared at him, causing him to stop his little joke, before she continued on. âPOTs,â she enunciated the name while flashing her eyes to Josh, âis nothing to be concerned with, but it is a valid heart condition that does require a bit more testing to confirm if itâs present or not. Just to be safe.âÂ
You peered down at the sheet in front of you and the bolded print that you tried so fucking hard to not be too overwhelmed by. It wasnât the worst possible condition, but it was still a fucking heart condition that you could possibly have. And with everything else thatâd happened tonight and your current life predicament. . . it was causing your head to spin.
Postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome (POTS) is a condition that causes a number of symptoms when you transition from lying down to standing up, such as a fast heart rate, dizziness and fatigue. While thereâs no cure, several treatments and lifestyle changes can help manage the symptoms of POTS.
As you read the small print across the page, she told you exactly what it was she suspected you had. âTo put it plainly, your heart canât pump blood quickly enough to your body, resulting in a higher heart rate and a lower blood pressure that can sometimes cause you to faint.â She came close to your bedside again, âIf you donât mind, I am going to need to listen to your heart again.âÂ
It took you a bit to come to, but when you did, you finally nodded in response. She placed the cold end of the stethoscope against your chest while securing the buds in her ears to listen to you.
âThis, combined with your lack of eating that caused the extremely low iron levels could have developed from your pregnancy. Although, Iâm willing to bet theyâve been present your entire life. Certain instances can trigger them. Stress, severe anxiety, or pregnancy. In your case, dear, Iâd say itâs all of the above. A bit of a trifecta, you could say. The ingredients for the perfect, terrifying storm.âÂ
âJesus, mama," Josh breathed, his lips faintly brushed over your knuckles as he continued to hold your hand close to his face. âYou have got to start taking care of yourself. I canât stand to see you like this.â
You knew that. God, you knew that. It had always been easier said than done. But it was no longer all about you anymore; the moment the life began growing within you, it gave you a newfound motivation to take care of yourself for the little life you were now responsible for.
âWhat other testing needs to be done?â You asked. You were hesitant of what her answer would be, but if it provided a step in the right direction towards becoming the healthiest version of yourself that you could possibly be, you were all ears.
âThereâs a specific test, a tilt table test, that must be done to provide us with a little more insight to the specifics of your case. However, itâs not safe to perform it while you're pregnant,â she explained. âSo for now, Iâm just going to send in for a heart monitor that will be delivered to your house in the next week or so. Youâll wear it for four weeks and that'll give us plenty of information in the meantime. Iâm also going to refer you to one of the best cardiologists we have on staff here.â
A heart monitor? That sounded utterly terrifying to you.Â
âI am also going to insist that you keep track of your hemoglobin levels daily,â she continued. âYou can also buy your own blood pressure cuff to partner with the hemoglobin kit we have set to deliver at your doorstep. You should be able to apply your insurance to the purchase of the blood pressure cuff, if you decide to include that step as well,â Stevens took a deep breath before going on. âKeep a daily journal to log your numbers. Just a notebook to track your blood pressure and hemoglobin levels. Itâs vital that you do these things, y/n. Fainting like this can not be a normal occurrence. Itâs not good for you or the baby.â When she spoke next, you felt your heart leap into your throat. âThe lasting effects on you or the fetus could be life threatening if youâre not careful. . . could be terribly detrimental to the babyâs developmentâspecifically his or her little body or brain development.â
Life threatening. Detrimental. Babyâs development. Little body or brain development.
You heard your heart rate go up on the monitor, but you werenât about to freak yourself out any further by looking at the changing numbers. You literally felt your pulse quicken and your breath become shallow in your throat as you struggled to take full breaths.
Focus on the now. Focus on what is real. What is right now. Baby is not in trouble yet.Â
You have time.
You brought a thumb and middle finger up to your temple, rubbing away furiously to relieve the oncoming headache that had been simmering at the surface for the past several minutes. Your other hand found its home on your swollen belly.
It was all so overwhelmingâstaggering, really, and you werenât prepared for any of it in the slightest.Â
But, then again, how would someone prepare? You felt as if you were living in a brand new body, much different from the one youâd lived your whole life in up to this point. There was so fucking much out of your control and unknown. It was all pushing down, heavily, on your already-tense shoulders.
âRelax, mama,â Josh sensed your tension, and knowing you as well as he did, he knew it was time to start helping you articulate the right questions. He brushed his thumb across the back of your hand as he calmly asked, âWhat do we need to do if her numbers arenât. . . normal? What are some measures we can take to get them to where they need to be?âÂ
The fact that he was willing to stand alongside you during this whole thing, that he wanted to, it was such a comforting thing to know at this moment. Not that you had any doubt in your mind, but hearing him say something as simple as âweâ. . . it just warmed your heart completely.Â
âLots of fluids,â she answered through a sincere smile. âAnd an increase in your salt intake to help your body maintain those fluids.â She handed you yet another sheet and sat back down next to you, looking you in the eye with a stern, motherly expression. âThat should help you out with foods to eat and fluids to drink, in addition to the sheet from earlier. But, honey, you need to change your diet. Itâs essential that you incorporate healthy eating habits at this point in your pregnancy. After youâve gotten your body accustomed to the bland foods on the other list Iâve supplied you, you need to start adding lots of iron heavy foods to your meals. Meats, leafy greens, rice. . . things of that nature.â She searched your eyes, hers kind and knowledgeable from years in the field. âAlright?â
You nodded your head in confirmation, wondering how the hell you were going to make that happen with the way normal food left you utterly disgusted at the present time.Â
âWeâll make sure of that, doc,â Josh responded in your place, throwing a wink at you as he knew damn well how horrible your food aversions had been.Â
âM-my therapy,â you found your voice. âItâs going to be intense. It will cause my body stress.â Dr. Stevens looked at you quizzically before you went on, âItâs called EMDR therapy. Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing; although, Iâm sure youâve heard of it in your profession. I donât know all of the logistics yet, but I know itâs not a conventional form of therapy. What do I do if I wish to continue that? Should I continue it?â
âIt should be safe, as long as you make sure to have a thorough discussion with your therapist after each session. That is dire in helping your body and your mind process it all in a healthy manner. In order to have a healthy body, you must also take care of your mind, especially in those circumstances. I do want you to consult with your therapist over how much stress youâll be able to handle at any given time. Donât let your mind go too far. If you have a good therapist, theyâll know the signs if youâve had enough, though, donât be afraid to tell them.âÂ
If there was one thing you did know about all this uncertainty, it was that you could trust Gia to not lead you astray, or towards anything that would be detrimental to your mental health.Â
Dr. Stevens smiled, her clipboard once again tight in her grip before she stepped further to the curtained room you were shielded by. âDo you have any more questions?âÂ
Josh glanced at you, waiting for you to say anything or waiting for you to communicate something for him to say on your behalf. You were sure you had questions, but you were just fucking flooded with stress to the point that all you wanted to do was sleep. . . just ready to get home.
Also, seeing as it was an emergency room, the idea was to get patients in and out. Wasnât supposed to be the length of a standard visit.Â
Youâd taken up too much of her time.
So, you shook your head at Josh and then looked to Dr. Stevens to tell her no thank you.
And when you did, you glanced down at the name on her coat and the name of the hospital stitched into the white fabric. You hadnât even noticed. . . . Cedars-Sinai.
Same hospital Iâll have the baby at, if all goes according to plan, you suddenly realized, the thought bringing you a weird sense of peace. And it will go according to plan.
-đŒđŒđŒ-
Josh went about gathering up all of the documents that had been handed to you and the prenatal pills provided as a nurse came in to disconnect all of your tubes and shit. He'd waited outside the curtain. and asked the nurse a few more questions as you'd changed back into your clothes.
And on the ride home, heâd put on peaceful music over the speaker of the car. He was used to doing it when you rode in his car as you hated riding in it. But tonight? Tonight you found comfort in the hunk of creaking metal.Â
Because it meant you were going home.Â
When you got home, Josh helped you up to the apartment and went about opening the front door and setting up your bed for you. All while you brushed your teeth, pulled up your hair that smelled like hospital, and changed into your comfiest PJs.Â
Just as heâd tucked you in and was about to leave, you pulled on his hand and begged for him to stay. You really didnât want to be alone for the night, mumbling as much to him.Â
So, like the perfect friend he was, he set up a pallet on the floor as you tossed him a pillow from your bed.Â
And to your solace, sleep found you as soon as your head hit the satin of your pillowcase.Â
-đŒđŒđŒ-
November 14, 2022
Every Monday being your therapy day was honestly the perfect way to start your week. Youâd decided that on the way to the counseling practice on the chilly November afternoon of your second appointment.
You already knew it would be like it had been before. Before, (on your first and only other visit before todayâs) it had just felt like a breath of fresh air to talk to a licensed professional like Gia. She was just fucking amazing. And you knew every week would be like before: a fresh start with a confidant who could give you killer fucking advice. A little date of sorts with a licensed professional who was positively eager to help you get through your week (life, generally) the best you possibly could.
Well, at least your therapist was eager to do that.Â
Even as you sat on her trendy, camel-colored leather couch for your second appointment, you felt completely comfortable and at ease with Gia. She had already become one of your favorite people.Â
Youâd spent the first thirty minutes or so filling her in on telling Josh, your first prenatal exam (also showed her the sonogram pictures, which sheâd loved), and the emergency visit. No details had been spared and you made sure she had time to give you any advice or words of wisdom she deemed necessary. But sheâd really just let you have the floor and talk.Â
Once you wrapped up your scary details from the night of the E.R., handed over all of the documents you wanted to sort through with her, and talked through them until you felt more ease about all of the anemia and heart shit, sheâd looked at you seriously.Â
Pinned you with a stare, her eyes sparkling like emeralds as she thoughtfully assessed you.Â
She sat down her tea, and then wheeled herself over to you. Her oversized sweater was a turtle neck that matched the color of her couch, and the too-long sleeves of it touched your hands as she grasped them loosely in her hands. âY/n,â she began, peering at you openly through her circular, wire framed-lenses, âWe do not have to do EMDR. I want to remind you, it is entirely up to you if you choose to go that route. If you are fearful of it causing too much stress, I understand wanting to venture down another therapeutic route.â
âNo,â you shook your head, a small smile curled the corner of your lips to reassure her. âI want to do it. I believe itâs what will work best to get to the heart of things. Donât you?â
âYes,â she agreed, brow knitted. âI just donât want you to feel any unnecessary stress during this vulnerable time in your life.â
âAs long as you promise to help me wrap it all up with a good talk at the end of each appointment,â you suggested with hope evident in your tone. âTo wrap it up as much as we can for me to make it through the week.â
She grinned. âI can do that,â she affirmed with one certain nod, her loose bun, full of her soft blonde hair bounced with the action. âDid the doctor recommend continuing it?â
âYep. Said it shouldnât be an issue if we manage to discuss it all at the end of each session,â you offered. âDoesnât want me carrying around anything unresolved that could make my stress levels increase.â
âWell, thatâs definitely doable,â she confirmed with a wide grin. Scooting back, she grabbed her tea from the repurposed desk in the corner of her office before propping her ankle on top of her bent knee. âSo, if you do wish to continue with EMDR, Iâll go ahead and explain it a little better than I have yet.â
âI do,â you said as a final agreement. âWhat should I know before we start?â
So, Gia proposed EMDR and all of the benefits that could come from the specific form of therapy. You listened to every detail readily. Were you scared? Yes. Were you anxious to begin? Also yes. It was intriguing and a little exciting to be so close to finally diving deep into the curves and corners of your mind and memories.Â
Once sheâd finished with that, she was rolling her chair back over to you and placing her elbows on the ends of her thighs as she bent to talk intimately with you. When she spoke, the smell of spearmint on her breath was oddly calming. âThereâs something I feel I should mention before we begin. A bit of a warning that you should heed. Some clients experience this, some donât. But something to be aware of, nonetheless.âÂ
Your eyes widened at her use of the word âwarning,â and her sudden change in tone made you believe this was something a little more serious. You knew there were risks involved with this somewhat unconventional form of therapy, but you hadnât let yourself delve into all of them just yet. You had tried your best to leave the ball in Giaâs court to explain it all to you.Â
And you knew that anything deemed risky, Gia would let you know of them before you agreed. Any online research wouldn't be nearly as viable as it would be coming straight from Giaâs mouth.Â
Still yet, your heart beat just a little faster in preparation for whatever she had to tell you.
Deep breaths, y/n.
âTell me,â you asserted. In search of some extra comfort, you placed a hand on your belly, the pulse vibrating in your palm also immediately triggered the fear in you that your heart was possibly over exerting itself.
Deep. Breaths. Giaâs got this. She wonât let you do anything too risky to your health. She wouldnât let you.
âSome people report experiencing rather intense flashbacks that can come unannounced. And when I say intense, I truly mean just that, y/n. If they come, they can be debilitating.âÂ
This was the first you had seen her eyes downturned, a picture of worry painted within her emerald green irises. âThere have also been accounts of severe nightmaresâwell, more along the lines of night terrors. The kind that can wake you up in a panic. I just want you to be aware of these possibilities before we begin. I need you to promise me right now, that if these things do happen, youâll call me. I donât care if itâs in the middle of the night or the middle of the day, you have to call me, and I will answer.âÂ
Middle of the day? They could come then, too? Shit.
âIs it. . . really that serious?â You took a moment to ponder your question, not entirely sure what to make of it all just yet. (And you couldnât help but wonder if Jake found out about these little occurrences during his research before bringing the idea up to you.)
âIt can be,â she noted with a stern tone that sent yet another wave of anxiety through your tense muscles. âThatâs why I need you to make me that promise. That isnât something you should ever experience alone. As I said, it can be debilitating.â
Your mind began turning furiously with the thought of having to experience flashbacks. Would they be flashbacks to things you already remembered? Or worse. . . things you didnât? Both?
If you were being honest with yourself, you knew the answer and it was honestly terrifying to you.
For a split second, you started to doubt whether or not this was the right solution for you. But, you couldnât deny any longer that you did need the help. You had to be better. For you and for the life that was growing inside of you. The baby needed a healed mother.Â
And you knew Gia was the perfect person to guide you through it. You trusted her, and that was something that has never come easily for you.Â
âIâll admit,â you began, still holding tight to your belly, reminding yourself of the growing reason why you needed to do this. âIâm nervous. But I still want to do it. I promise Iâll call you whenâ ifâ that happens. . . but, what if youâre not available?â
âDonât be nervous. Youâve got this.â She flashed you her sparkling white teeth in a smile that put your spirit right back at ease. âAnd I do my best to answer. Itâs my job as your therapist to see you through this. Some donât take it as seriously as I do, but I know that youâll need me in your corner and Iâm happy to be there. I signed up for this, just like you did,â she grinned, once again using her feet to scoot her back to her desk, in her plush, light pink chair. âBut, on the off chance Iâm not able to answer, I would immediately contact someone you trust to see you through it. Hold you. Talk to you. Just be there with you. Whatever you need. Someone who would be willing to do that.â She opened her laptop before turning to you, an idea seeming to spark in her mind. âAs a matter of fact, before our next session, why donât you make it your assignment to think of the person youâll go to in situations like that? Just one person for now and if you think of more, then double whammy.â
She winked, and you just sent a barely-there grin back to her in response. As she went about clicking open tabs on her computer, you knew you didnât need until next session to think of your person.Â
Because as soon as she started talking about that person, you were back in the hallway of your grandparentsâ home â right outside your bedroom. And the person next to you right then and there. . . he was the one you wanted with you if the terrors hit.Â
Not Josh. Not even Elsie.Â
But Jake.Â
Would he be okay with that though? Would it be worth asking him?
Gia was once again speaking as she clicked through a few buttons on her laptop. âY/n? You okay, love?âÂ
You looked up, finding her eyes waiting for yours. âOhâoh, yeah,â you stretched your lips to make the best smile you could. âJust being an overachiever and already brainstorming my person to contact.â
She hummed, giving you a sneaky smirk. âDoes it happen to be a certain roommate of yours?â
Eyes bugging, you were shocked that sheâd guessed. But were you really? She sorta kinda (definitely) knew the depths of your heart. She'd probably known who youâd want to pick as soon as you'd known it.Â
Nodding sheepishly, you decided to ask, âIs that a bad idea?â
âI donât believe so,â she assured. âFrom what youâve told me about him, he seems like a pretty good guy and I think heâd be more than willing to help you if you needed him.â
âReally?â
âReally. Itâs also super convenient because he lives with you,â she insisted with a final wink before she said, âAnything I mightâve forgotten will be in the PowerPoint Iâm about to send to your email. But, Iâve gotta say, Iâve done it enough times with enough clients, I think Iâve covered every base for today.â A few beats of silence passed before she triumphantly pressed a button. âAaand, sent!âÂ
Then, wheeling back over to you, her pristinely white Nikes made the smallest squeak on the stained concrete floor of her office. âOkay, so today,â she began. âHow are we feeling?â
âReally good,â you confidently responded, wiping your palms against your leggings before a true smile fit to your features. âWhen will we start?â
âI think next session we will find your safe place,â she said with a raise of her brow. âI will explain what I mean by âsafe placeâ next time, and directly after, we will send you there. Try not to worry about it until then, okay?â She requested, eyes searching yours for an answer. To which, you nodded. She continued with a grin. âFor today, I want to call it quits with the EMDR talk. . . Let you rest. Unless. . . you have any questions, of course. . . .â
You wracked your brain, and when you couldnât think of anything immediately, you told her you didnât have any questions.Â
âCome with some next time if you think of any. And, my email is always open in between visits if neededâeven if itâs just a minor inquiry you have,â she reminded. âOh! And Iâm not sure if I mentioned this yet. . . but, if we need to ever schedule an emergency visit over Zoom or in the office. . . that is also always, always on the table. I know that these things get heavy, and I want to be here for you through all of it, y/n.â
âGot it.â
Although, something did come to your mind as you were both standing to leave the session. You hadnât given the question much thought in your own mind (shockingly). It had entered your wave of thought the day of your first prenatal appointment. When youâd asked Josh.Â
But since then, your mind had been too preoccupied with everything else that had recently happened that this thought had been put on the backburner.Â
But, you were curious what her opinion was on the matter, now that it had resurfaced.Â
Right before she opened the door, delicate hand on the handle, you grew sweaty. But you needed to ask the question, because if you didnât do it now, it would be tormenting you until next Monday.Â
So, you asked her the same question youâd asked Josh.
âWhen should I tell Jake about the baby?â
She turned her shoulder, her eyes stern when she responded. âSoon. . . sooner rather than later. Just focus on what is real.â
Sooner rather than later. . . same exact words Josh had said.
-đŒđŒđŒ-
It had been a long day of classes and the short shift at the Black and Gold after your classes had completely wiped you out.Â
When you got home, all youâd wanted to do was take a nap to sleep off the exhaustion from the short day. Before pregnancy, you wouldnât be hitting a wall so early in the day, but now that you were, you could hardly function after going nonstop for more than a few hours.Â
Your body was functioning in overdrive, trying to produce enough energy to sustain two lives. . . and you were still getting used to it. Honestly, you werenât sure you would ever get used to it.
But before your nap. . . you wanted to take some time to release some of the soreness in your changing body with a warm shower. You were sure to grab a towel from the dryer because, even though you knew Jake wasnât supposed to be home for a few hours, you still didnât want to risk him seeing you. The idea of him seeing any slight changes on your body made you cringe. You werenât sure if you felt comfortable in your body yet, so you definitely didnât want him seeing it.Â
There was also the enormous, glaring factor of him seeing the changes and realizing what was going on. You really still just looked bloated (albeit very, very bloated). . . but you had a feeling that he would catch on. Heâd gotten very used to what your body looked like for the better part of the summer, so you could see him noticing your stomach protruding more than it ever did before.Â
Heâd know. . . you just had a feeling.
After a day of trying to wear regular jeans, youâd decided it was a bad idea to wear your normal sized jeans anymore. The tight waistband had cut into your abdomen all day and squeezed you like a motherfucker. Thankfully, thereâd been a lull in customers before the end of your shift, and the oversized sweater youâd worn had provided enough coverage for you to unbutton the jeans when you were alone in the store.Â
But when you finally got to take them off, you breathed a sigh of relief to be out of the confines of the stiff clothing. And the big, fluffy sweater had gotten to be too warm by the end of your shift, so taking that off had also been extremely relieving as well.Â
After youâd tied your hair back and heated the shower a little cooler than your usually steaming hot showers, you had to get used to the temperature as you stood and lathered up your belly, giving yourself your daily time to just observe how it was growing. Ever since your visit to the E.R., youâd become more conscientious of how it was growing.
You were new to this pregnancy thing. You didnât know if it meant your baby was okay or not if your belly wasnât growing at a certain rate.
To your utter relief, over the past few days, you had finally been able to eat moreâfollowing the lists of food Dr. Stevens had given you. You occasionally got nauseous, but the puking had limited significantly with the suggested bland, healthier foods and constant Ginger Ale (which youâd actually found much more delicious and helpful to your twisty stomach than Sprite).Â
Then there were the Preggie Pops and the heaven-sent PregEase: both of which had been fucking life savers. (Both stayed safely locked away in your room, on a shelf in your closet, right next to where youâd pinned the sonogram pictures.)
Once youâd let the quick shower relax your muscles exactly like youâd needed, you took your time drying off. And once youâd washed your face and changed into bike shorts and a giant t-shirt, you werenât so tired as before. So, youâd settled into the couch with your phone, a book, a fluffy blanket, and a delicious bowl of sweet red peppers and pretzels.
It had become a go-to snack as of late.Â
You were looking forward to finishing the steamy romance that had popped up on your BookTok a few weeks back, but you wanted to look into BookTok reviews for the second book in the series before you finished the first. Just to prepare yourself.Â
Though, when you opened your TikTok app, you didnât look into the book. No, instead, you found your fingers searching â13 weeks pregnantâ. You wanted to see how other women looked at this point in the game. You couldnât help wanting to compare your progression to other women. It wasnât a healthy course of action â you knew that. You just had to see. . . get an idea.
You saw a lot of videos of them talking about entering their second trimester. Which, like your Ovia app had already informed you today, you knew you had officially passed the first trimester. . . which was a massive thing to you. Passing the first trimester meant several exciting things. A few being: the chances of your baby surviving the pregnancy increased tenfold; the morning sickness started screeching to a halt (thank god); and youâd be able to find out the gender of your baby in a few short weeks.
Though, the other glaring thing at the front of your brain was how you needed to tell Jake. Because of the fact that you were already in your second trimester.
The main thing you were concerned about was staying healthy, though. . . you were really hoping you were doing okay at keeping yourself healthy; you needed your baby to be healthy. All of your numbers seemed to be getting back on the right track as youâd been tracking your hemoglobin for the past few days. It was all very comfortingâ-you felt better.
Just as you clicked on a video about symptoms at week 13, the front door opened to show Jake coming through. You quickly shut the app off and locked your phone, pretended to be reading as sweat accumulated in your arm and knee pits. (Lovely.)Â
Though, you couldnât help but turn your body to peek at him in his peacoat, with a scarf wrapped around his neck, and a beanie covering his ears. Much like heâd looked on the night of the macaroni and cheese and therapy talk.Â
He had a little chill in his bones, it seemed, as he shook them out when taking off his coat and scarf. His hat was next, leaving his long hair staticky in its wake. He smoothed it back with one more chill before he was off to the counter, dropping off the mail and his keys. But he didnât immediately go to his room. He went about opening a drawer, finding a pair of scissors and heading to the mail on the counter.Â
You did notice a package now that you looked closer. And he was hurriedly going about cutting through the yellow protective packaging.
Out of nowhere, you decided to speak. No idea where it came from. Curiosity killed the cat was all you could come up with.
âWhatcha got there?â Whatcha got there? Okay, first of all, what the fuck?
He peered over at you, raising a brow before lifting the now-open package to display it to you. âNew guitar part I ordered.â
âOh,â you blinked, not sure what else youâd been expecting from him. Of course he wasnât about to make pleasant conversation. Not when something had apparently climbed up his ass where you were concerned for the past several days.Â
Once again, you were right back at square one at the most inopportune time. It made you question your idea to make him your go-to person for your expected night terrors. . . but you didnât want to let go of the possibility yet. Not yet.Â
âHave fun with that,â you offered, turning back around to the book you most definitely didnât want to read at the present time. Instead, you took a nervous bite of a pepper.Â
âUm, y/n,â he said your name with a question in his tone. âWhat the fuck is this?â
Your heart tripped over itself in your chest. What had he found? Without looking at him, you decided to just go ahead and get your ass off the couch to survey the situation.Â
He was holding the box containing your heart monitor in his hands.
Fuck. You really didnât want him to be privy to that part of your life. For whatever ridiculous reason, you were embarrassed by it.Â
Deciding honesty was the best policy, you decided to just flat out tell him. âI went to the Emergency Room the other night,â you started. âAnd the doctor just wanted â.â
âThe Emergency Room?!â His voice raised a decibel, obviously alarmed at the new information. âWait . . . is that why Josh had to leave the barâ? The same night you were gone all night.â
âWait. . .how do you know I was gone all night?â
âI live with you, y/n,â he scoffed, talking to you like you were an idiot.Â
You felt your blood pressure rise, your heart beating in your ears. âYes, Jake, I know this,â you matched his tone, the hormones working in your favor this timeâmaking you angry rather than sad. âBut why the fuck were you awake?â
âI was waiting forâ,â he stopped, clearing his throat before starting over. He looked down, a crinkle in his brow. âI couldnât sleep.â
He was waiting for. . . who? Waiting for. . . what? Your curiosity peaked, but you ignored it for the time being.Â
âWell, not that you need to know, but yes. I was at the E.R. that night,â you explained. âSomething happened that landed me there and it resulted in them wanting to track my heart activity. Nothing huge.â
And for once, you didnât feel bad for lying to him. Your nerves were lit on fire with irritation towards him.Â
He doesnât need to know.
âYou got a heart monitor in the mail,â he stated, not dropping the possible severity of the situation. "And you're saying it's nothing huge?"
Without a second thought, you were yanking the package from his hands.Â
âItâs. not. your. business, Jacob,â you squeezed the package until the plastic wrap squeaked from the tight grip of your fingertips. Then, something else clicked. âWhy the fuck were you not looking at the name on the package? Remember, like you said, you live with me. You know that not all of the shit that comes in the mail is yours.â
âI just wasnât thinkingâ.â
âKind of fucking invasive, Jake,â you interrupted hotly. âDonât you think?â
âWell, it helped me to know something was wrong with your heart. You wouldnât have told me if I hadnât opened the package,â he argued back.Â
âYou didnât need to know!â You said, your voice raising at the same speed as your blood pressure. âStill donât!â
âBut Josh sure as hell does, right?â He demanded, swinging his finger towards the door, his jaw clenching. âHe needed to be your knight in shining fucking armor, huh?â
âWhy the hell do you care?!â You fumed, the question exploding from your chest with the same emotion that had tears gathering in your eyes at the question. Angry tears. Confused tears.Â
âI donât!â He snapped, his beautiful, brown eyes, hard. His jaw, set and tight.Â
His words sat in the air for a few minutes. Your stares were intertwined; swimming with tangled emotions. The air felt hot and heavy as it surrounded you. It was taut with newly spoken (and still unspoken) surmounting feelings and disequilibrium. Nostrils were flaring. Both of your chests heaved, the sound of his breathing mixed with yours in a way that made you want to slap and kiss his pursed lips.
You didnât let yourself stand there much longer â needed to get away from him. Without speaking to him, you tore your eyes from his, gathered up your stuff from the couch, and tried to walk with as much dignity as you could to your room.Â
Somehow, you were able to get the door open with your hands inexplicably full, and after youâd entered and before you could shut it behind you, you shot a glare his way. He was still watching you.
âFuck you, Jake.â
-đŒđŒđŒ-
November 17, 2022
The next night saw your ass in the shower again.Â
Except this time, you were sitting in the tub, legs drawn to your chest as close as possible with your rounder tummy, and chin on your knees as you let the warm water soak you through.Â
Youâd already shaved and washed everything. So, now, you were just letting yourself be.
Your thoughts had been spinning since last night. So, in an effort to help your heart, youâd invited Josh over for a movie when Jake left to give lessons for the day. And, of course, heâd said yes without question.Â
Youâd spent the day drowning yourself in popcorn and Canada Dry (Josh surprised you with a new 12-pack when heâd arrived) as youâd watched all three Bridget Jones movies. Back to back to back. They werenât Joshâs favorites, but he humored you by trying to indulge in the trilogy â even managing to laugh at the funny parts.Â
Between movies, heâd let you cry on his shoulder. Or, intermittently, during the movies. . . By the time heâd left, your tears had positively stained the white long sleeve tee he was wearing.Â
He didnât ever ask what it was about â who it was about. And you never told him. But you knew he wasnât oblivious to who caused your emotional episode.
Now he was gone. Had been for about an hour. And Jake wasnât home yet. Not that you fucking cared.Â
Youâd meant it when you told him what you did. Fuck him.
Though, the devastating matter was that you couldnât decide if you were more mad at yourself or him. Everyday was a replay of the day in the kitchen. And you were sure he replayed it everyday, too. . . and he was definitely allowed to feel hurt after the horrendous shit youâd thrown at him.
But what was with the back and forth? Hot and cold? How heâd been okay the night with the mac and cheese? How heâd spent his time researching therapy for you to try? How heâd been quick to defend your song to his girlfriend?Â
And, just as quickly, he was snapping at you. Getting upset out of nowhere. Instantly angry with you when youâd come out of the bathroom at the bar. Getting pissed for no reason at you and Josh for sitting in the car. Telling you last night that he didnât care about you.Â
Was that true? Did he not? It fucking killed you if it was true. But you couldnât blame him if he didnât care. Why would he?
You took the moment to stretch your legs out in the shower, watching as the water painted your skin with droplet after droplet. Then, you looked down at your tummy, extra round after a day of pigging out.Â
Placing a pruned hand on it, you looked down at the part of your body that housed your human. Surprisingly (not), tears clouded your voice as you spoke to it, rubbing the skin reassuringly. âIâm so sorry that your mommy and daddy are so fucked up.â
After letting a few tears fall to meet the tight, rounded skin of your tummy, you forced your legs to stand up. The feat was proven a little difficult as theyâd fallen asleep, but you still managed. Regretfully, youâd turned the water off. You didnât want to leave the shower but you were officially prune-y as hell.
And, as you gathered a towel to wrap up in, you realized you were also very fucking tired.
You carefully attached the heart monitorâs adhesive to your chest like the instruction manual (and multiple videos youâd watched) told you to, and followed it with the monitor itself. You then checked to make sure the phone youâd been given with the kit was ready to track what it needed.
Finding your phone on the counter after youâd washed your face and brushed your teeth, you decided Josh deserved a thank you after putting up with you the last several days.
Especially after youâd just rocked his motherfucking world . . . and heâd been so cool about it.
God, you just loved him.
You, 10:17 p.m.: Iâm so glad I have you. I mean it from the bottom of my heart that I wouldnât make it through this pregnancy without you. And your love and amazing fucking support. Iâd be lost without you.
And after you sent it, you began towel drying your hair, then brushed through any tangles the best you could.Â
When you heard a ding! sound from the living room, you spent a few minutes thinking it was your imagination. But when you heard it a second time, you realized it was most likely not in your head, and that Jake was home.Â
So, checking your appearance once more, you wrapped the towel as tight as you could around your body before shutting the light off and opening the door.Â
You glanced up to see if he was in fact home, and the sight that met you had you stop in your tracks.Â
Joshâs white phone case with the little triangle symbol heâd drawn on it one day at the B&G.Â
In Jakeâs hands.Â
Jakeâs face, looking at the screen of said phone, mouth open in shock.
And as soon as you closed the door to the bathroom, the smallest sound of it shutting, made his eyes slowly slide up from the phone to your face.
He held the phone up, showing you just what heâd seen. Fuck.Â
âYouâre pregnant?â
You took a careful step forward, the blood in your veins frazzled and vibrating. Deny deny deny. As long as you can, y/n. âWhat gives you the right to be in Joshâs phone? Your invasiveness really knows no fucking bounds these days,â you clipped, voice shaking in spite of yourself.
He blinked a couple of times, a smile forming on his mouth. A wide, sarcastic one, which turned into an astounded scoff. âReally? Thatâs what weâre going to focus on right noâ?â He shook his head, clicking the phone shut before taking a few cautious steps towards you. âHis face I.D.; it opens to me. Iâm his fucking identical twin.â
âProve it,â you challenged.Â
âWas already planning on it,â he snipped. And right in your line of sight, he opened the phone, putting his face in front of it. Then, it was turned to show you. The same tantalizing screen as before. âProven.â
âWell. . .,â you faltered, scrambling. âWhy did you have it?â
âIt was laying on the counter. I went to grab it and my keys,â he jingled the keys in his other hand. âI was going to take it to him,â he explained, sounding exasperated and patient all at once. An anomaly. âBut when I picked it up, I looked down, and it opened.â
He took two steps back, once again, holding the phone up to show you the text screen. The gray bubble had never looked so horrifying as it did in that moment. The sweat accumulating on your forehead proved your entire skin care routine pointless. You were shaking. Your skin felt like it was going to fall off from the vibrations taking over underneath it.
âNow,â he started slowly. âWill you answer my question, please?âÂ
His voice broke on the last word and it triggered a single tear to trickle down your cheek.Â
âYes, I am.â
âWhose?â
âReally, Jake?â You questioned, the question making your heart break. How could heâ?Â
His eyes went soft momentarily, pleading with you. âI just need to hear you say it, y/n.â
âItâs yours, Jake. The baby is yours. Who the fuck else?â
-đŒđŒđŒ-
a/n: this monstrous chapter was a fucking doozy and you already know i wanna talk about it!! come to my asks and we shall chat <333
oh, but i'm just wondering........ what do you think reader's safe place will be? ;) a place? a person? both? hmmm....
ty for being the best readers in the world and pleaseee never hesitate to send in your wonderful thoughts! love youuuu <3
& as usual, it wouldnât let me tag some of yâall. :( so please check to see that youâre down there because if youâve asked to be on the taglist, i tried to tag you. buuuut tumblr wouldnât let me do it for everyone đ ugh. and if i somehow forgot to tag someone, please also let me know that! (i'm a NOOB and i have terrible memory)
Taglist: @joshym, @gretavanfleetposts, @alyson814, @fretaganvleet, @lallisonl, @writingcold, @gvfpal, @twinszka, @jessicafg03, @reesetrippingthelight, @sacredjake, @laurenlovesgretavanfleet, @gretavangroove, @222headedcalf, @dreamssingold, @carbondancingthroughtime, @raviolilegs, @way-to-go-lad, @jakekiszkasmommy, @katgvf, @objectsinspvce, @jaketlover, @vanfleeter, @thetroublegetssoloud71, @seditabets, @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface, @jaketlove, @ohgodthefeeling-gvf, @starcatcher-jake, @anythingforjtk, @lucimoo, @indigostreakmorgan, @gretavanbear, @katelynn-gvf, @alwaysonthemend, @aintthatapity, @bowievanfleet, @fwzco, @takenbythemadness, @cherry-icecreamsmile, @laneygvf, @hi-hi-hello11, @sinarainbows, @jakesbarbarian, @mybussyinchrist, @becinabubblegvf, @heckingfrick, @danigvf, @pinkandsleepy1934, @derrangeddumpsterfire, @klarxtr, @josh-iamyour-mama, @abby-gvf, @cassyface, @gretavansabotage, @torniturntomyarrow, @joshsbonnet, @llrosee, @starshine-gvf, @itsafullmoon, @gvfmarge, @creadliz98
(and, due to t*mblrâs shitass guidelines, i will be adding the other tags in a reblog of the story!)
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