A/n: I sure hope you guys are ready cause shit is about to get crazzyyyyyy 😉. I also wanna take the time so say thank you so much to all who read and interact with my stories! All the reactions and the praises and the sweet comments in my asks and messages really keep me going with this whole writing thing! I love you guys 🩷. As always, please read at your own discretion as this story has a lot of dark themes, but also enjoy the ride!
Content Warnings: vomiting (Emetophobia triggers), mentions of pregnancy (some negative elements attached to it, heavy angst… may be missing a few but I think I touched the big ones.
Word Count: 3k
Masterlist
Jake wasn’t beside you the next morning, but that wasn’t unusual. What was unusual was the wave of nausea that hit you the moment your eyes opened. Sitting upright only made it worse. Clutching a hand over your mouth, you scurried into the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before vomiting violently.
You heaved until your stomach ached, your body convulsing with each retch. When you finally finished, you collapsed back on your heels with a shuddering sigh. Tilting your head back, you fought to keep tears at bay. Part of it was the sting of throwing up, but the real reason for the tears forming in your eyes was the gnawing suspicion of what this sudden sickness most likely meant.
The suspicion had been there, lingering in the back of your mind. You were about a week late. As much as you knew it to be true, you refused to believe it without solid proof. The reality was too grim, and you were determined to delay facing it for as long as possible.
Gathering your composure, you flushed the toilet and went to the sink to wash your hands and face. You looked at your reflection in the mirror, noticing the pallor of your skin and the worry etched across your features. After brushing your teeth thoroughly, you avoided mouthwash, fearing it might trigger another wave of nausea.
Once you felt physically better, you reentered the bedroom and picked up your phone, dialing Angela’s number. It was still early, and the phone rang several times before her groggy voice answered.
“Hey, Ange,” you said, trying to conceal the tremor in your voice, “can you come over? I need your help.”
There was a pause on the other end, then Angela’s voice softened with concern. “Of course. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Are you okay?”
You swallowed hard, the gravity of your situation pressing down on you. “I don’t know,” you whispered. “Just… please hurry.”
Hanging up, you sat on the edge of the bed, your mind racing. The minutes dragged by as you waited for Angela, each second amplifying your anxiety. You knew you had to face the truth, but the fear of what it would mean for your future—and for Jake—was unsettling.
The Barbarians stood around their usual meeting spot, waiting for Alejandro to arrive. They had agreed that the money would be delivered to him in three separate drop-offs, ensuring that if anything went wrong, not all of the money would be lost.
Jake was anxious. If Alejandro wasn’t pleased with how things were going, all the blame would fall on him, as it was his idea.
Ace sensed Jake’s unease but knew better than to draw attention to it. He had unwavering faith in Jake and his plan. If things went awry due to Alejandro’s dissatisfaction, he would back Jake to the end. This silent understanding allowed Jake to remain calm.
As always, thirty minutes past the planned meeting time, three black Escalades pulled up. Alejandro leapt out of the middle one as soon as its engine idled.
Two of his men walked past the group to the truck where Nicky stood. Nicky lifted the back of the truck, and the men retrieved several bags of cash before stepping aside to begin counting.
Jake felt the weight of Alejandro’s scrutinizing gaze as he stared down Jake and the rest of the Barbarians while his men counted the money.
After a stretch of silence, one of the men looked at his boss and gave a thumbs up. “Looks like it’s all here.”
Alejandro’s expression shifted to one of delight, and he let out a loud cackle. He strode over to Jake and shook his hand roughly. “You know, I knew when the Barbarian Prince had a plan, I wouldn’t be disappointed.”
Nicky rolled his eyes in disgust. He couldn’t understand why Jake was getting so much credit when he and his boys were the ones handling the money. Without him, Jake’s plan wouldn’t be succeeding.
Jake shook Alejandro’s hand, ignoring Nicky’s disapproving glare burning into his back. “I told you that you could count on us,” he said, concealing the nerves still coursing through his veins.
“I knew I could count on you,” Alejandro emphasized, his hazel eyes piercing into Jake’s, still not releasing his grip.
His men began moving the bags into their cars, giving Ace a sense of relief. With the first sum of money in Alejandro’s possession, they were one step closer to being done with this ordeal.
“But,” Alejandro lifted a finger, “I don’t want to celebrate too soon. You still have two more drops to prove that putting my faith in you and this club wasn’t a big waste of my time.”
Jake nodded. “I understand.”
Alejandro smiled again, patting Jake on the cheek. “I knew you would.”
He turned to Ace with a sly grin. “You’ve got a good one here, Acey boy. An excellent choice for your new club President, don’t you agree?”
Ace glanced at Jake, then quickly at Nicky, knowing he wouldn’t like the sound of that. “I guess he’s a pretty good choice,” he chuckled. “But it’ll be up to the guys to vote.”
Alejandro, clearly in an instigating mood, looked back at Nicky’s dissatisfied face. “I bet that will be an interesting ordeal. Am I allowed to cast a vote of my own?”
He laughed before anyone could answer, patting Ace on the arm. “Kidding, of course. I trust your men know what’s best for them. At least, I hope they do.”
With the cars now loaded up, Alejandro turned to make his exit. “Keep up the good work, Barbarian Prince. I’ll see you next time around.”
As Alejandro and his men drove off, the tension lingered. Jake knew the road ahead was fraught with challenges, but with Ace’s silent support and the stakes so high, failure was not an option.
You held your head in your hands as you sat on the toilet lid, overwhelmed. Angela sat across from you on the bathroom counter, the four positive pregnancy tests lined up beside her, taunting and mocking you.
It had been quiet for several minutes, Angela watching you process the reality laid out before you.
“What am I gonna do, Ange?” you finally sobbed, covering your face to stifle your cries. “I never planned on staying here this long. I never planned on this happening. I was just trying to save up enough money to get away, and now…” you paused to regain your composure, “I can’t just leave. Not like this. I just…”
Words failed you, and you continued to cry. This was the last situation you thought you’d find yourself in when you traveled to Genoa. It complicated things beyond measure, and you weren’t even sure where to start.
Both possible outcomes were terrifying.
Angela crossed over to you and rubbed a soothing hand down your back. She knew how desperately you wanted to leave, but this was a sticky situation.
“I can’t tell you what to do,” she sighed, trying her best to comfort you. “That’s a decision you have to make on your own. But can I tell you what I think you should do?”
You looked up at her with a sniffle, your face pale from crying so hard.
“You need to tell Jake. You need someone other than me to help support you and figure out what you want to do. Whatever choice you make, I’m sure he’ll support you.”
You shook your head. “What if he’s mad? Im sure this is just as much an inconvenience for him as it is for me.”
Angela offered a sympathetic smile. “Or, it could be the one thing both of you need. You’ll never know unless you talk to him.”
You seriously doubted that would be the case, but you knew you couldn’t keep something like this from Jake. Maybe if you got his perspective, you’d find some clarity on your next steps.
Angela comforted you while you cried for several more minutes until your tears finally ceased. She agreed to take your shift at the Tavern that evening, giving you time to work things out with yourself.
“Are you going to be alright?” she asked worriedly, standing at the front door of the trailer, hesitant to leave you alone so soon.
You shrugged, feeling detached from reality. “I’ve been alright so far. I’ll be alright now.”
Angela pulled you into a tight hug before descending the staircase. “Call me if you need anything.”
“I will,” you assured her, “thanks.”
You shut the door behind her and let out a heavy sigh. Entering the kitchen, you checked the time on the stove. Jake would be home in a few hours. If you were going to have this conversation with him, it would be better to do it over food.
Determined to make the most of the time you had, you started preparing dinner. As you chopped vegetables and set water to boil, your mind raced with possible scenarios of how Jake might react. You hoped for understanding but prepared yourself for disappointment.
Time did nothing to calm you. Each passing minute only heightened your anxiety, and you almost ruined dinner three separate times. You went back and forth on whether you even wanted to tell Jake the news, playing out different scenarios in your head. You could delay no longer, you heard the front door open, and dread surged through you. You couldn’t even look at Jake, pretending the pot you were stirring required your full attention.
A smile spread across his face at the aroma of a home-cooked meal greeted him.
“You know, Cherry, you’re starting to spoil me,” he joked, plopping down on the couch. “Coming home to home-cooked meals every day—I’m gonna start getting used to this.”
He waited for your usual sly remark, but when you didn’t even glance at him, he got up and walked into the kitchen to see what was wrong.
“Cherry? Everything alright?”
You froze, your back still to him, your hands beginning to tremble as you struggled to keep your composure.
“Cherry?” His voice was more worried now.
Slowly, you turned to face him, your eyes revealing the depth of your concern.
“Jake, I’m pregnant.”
Jake’s expression shifted from worry to shock. His mouth fell open slightly, and his eyes widened. You watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed with a hard swallow.
“What?”
You held his gaze for a moment longer before retreating to the bedroom. When you returned with the pregnancy test in hand, Jake was still rooted to the spot.
Handing it to him, you watched as he stared down at the two pink lines, trying to decipher his thoughts from his expressionless face.
Finally, he looked back up at you, seeing the tears you were trying to hold back.
He wished he could say something, but he knew nothing would come out right under the pressure he felt.
Jake turned, tossed the pregnancy test on the counter, and fled toward the front door, not even bothering to grab his helmet.
“Jake—” you called after him.
He flung the door open, stormed down the stairs, and brought his bike to life.
You stood in the doorway as he backed out of the driveway, then sped out of the trailer park.
The roar of his engine faded into the distance, leaving you in the thick silence of an uncertain future.
Jake rode around the isolated desert for hours. Though the landscape around him was peaceful, the turmoil inside him was a completely different story. The setting sun cast long shadows over the sand, but all he could see was the image of the positive pregnancy test, the two pink lines searing into his mind like a brand. Your face, pale and filled with worry, haunted him.
As he sped through the barren terrain, the wind whipped around him, doing little to cool the feverish thoughts that raced through his head. How could this have happened? He thought about the nights spent with you, the careless passion, the moments where everything seemed to fall away except for the two of you. Now, those moments had led to something neither of you had planned for, something that changed everything.
Fear gripped him. He had no idea how to be a father, no idea how to provide the stability a child needed. His own upbringing had been anything but stable, and the thought of repeating that cycle terrified him. Could he even be the kind of man who could handle this responsibility? Or was he destined to fail, like he always feared deep down?
He recalled the look in your eyes, the mixture of hope and fear. You had been so vulnerable, and he had fled. You didn’t deserve to be left standing there, alone and scared. He knew he had to face this, face you, but the weight of it all felt crushing.
Then there was the club. The Barbarians were his family, and regardless of how he felt about it, they were a big part of his life, but the idea of raising a child within that lifestyle was daunting. He couldn’t imagine bringing up a kid surrounded by the violence and uncertainty that came with being part of the club. What if he had a son? Would he want to follow in his father’s footsteps as Jake had, getting drawn into the same dangerous world? And what if things got ugly somewhere down the line? The thought of putting you and the child at risk because of his affiliations filled him with dread. He couldn’t bear the idea of his child living in fear, or worse, being harmed because of the choices he had made. The prospect of needing to shield his family from the darker parts of his life weighed heavily on him, adding another layer to his already overwhelming concerns.
Amid all these worries, the one that gnawed at him the most was how you were coping. He imagined you back at the trailer, trying to hold yourself together, and his heart ached. You had looked so scared, so fragile, and he had walked out. The thought of you feeling abandoned, dealing with this monumental change alone, made him feel like the lowest kind of coward.
A deeper fear, one he hadn’t dared to acknowledge, surfaced. What if you didn’t even want to keep the baby? The thought bruised him more than he expected. It hurt to think you might not see a future with this child, with him, but he also understood. This wasn’t the life you had planned. He couldn’t blame you if you decided this was too much, too soon. The uncertainty of it all weighed heavily on him, but he knew he had to be ready to support you, whatever decision you made.
As he rode further into the desert, the vast emptiness around him mirrored the confusion within. The stars began to emerge, one by one, in the twilight sky, each one a distant reminder of the unknown future ahead. He needed to figure this out, needed to find a way to be there for you and the baby. But how?
The questions swirled in his mind, each one without an answer. He rode harder, faster, as if he could outrun the reality of what lay ahead. But deep down, he knew he couldn’t. He had to go back, face the consequences, and figure out how to move forward.
Finally, he pulled to a stop atop a small hill, looking out over the desert expanse. The engine’s rumble faded, leaving him in a silence as vast as the horizon. In that stillness, he allowed himself a moment to breathe, to let the enormity of the situation settle over him.
He didn’t have all the answers. He didn’t know if he could be the man you needed, the father your child deserved. But he knew if that’s what you wanted, then he had to try. For you, for the baby, and for himself.
With a deep breath, he turned his bike around and started the long ride back. Back to you, back to the future he never saw coming but now had to face head-on.
It was the early hours of the next morning when Jake found his way back. When he saw you standing on the porch, anticipating his arrival, the guilt he had been wrestling with surged anew.
He dismounted his bike and approached you cautiously, your arms crossed tightly over your chest. The anger in your eyes pierced him, and he didn’t dare say a word, fully aware of his wrongdoing.
Unable to hold back any longer, you reached out and shoved him in the chest. He stumbled back slightly, but you weren’t satisfied. You shoved him again, harder, and again. Tears spilled down your face as your shoves turned into closed fists pounding against his chest. Jake stood still, allowing you to vent your fury, knowing he deserved every blow.
“Why did you leave?” you cried, continuing to strike him. “Why would you do that?”
He took hold of your wrists firmly, making you stop and look at him. “I’m sorry. I panicked, and I shouldn’t have done that. I don’t know what I was thinking, baby.”
Your bottom lip quivered. You wanted so badly to berate him more, but all you needed in that moment was his comfort. You collapsed into his chest, sobbing uncontrollably, and he wrapped his arms around you tightly, letting you know he didn’t plan on letting go.
Jake couldn’t fathom why this was such a difficult thing for you to face. You wanted to tell him that your distress had nothing to do with him and everything to do with your own inner grievances. Had you met Jake under different circumstances, this pregnancy might have been the most joyous thing that ever happened to you. And who knew, it still might turn out that way. But right now, you couldn’t see past the fear that consumed you.
However, you didn’t need to voice any of this to Jake. His next words provided the reassurance you desperately needed.
“Shhh, it’s okay, baby,” he soothed, running a hand over the back of your head. “You’re okay, I’m okay. We’re going to figure this out. I promise.”
The two of you stood on the porch until the sun began to show it’s first light, casting a soft glow over Cactus Creek. Jake finally pulled away slightly so he could look you in the eyes. You appeared more beautiful to him than ever before, with the promise of new life growing inside you.
“Let’s go to bed,” he suggested gently.
You nodded, wiping the last remnants of tears from your face. “Okay.”
I’m so disconnected from gvf and i’m so sad about it. some fans have really made me hate what i used to love. it’s terrible that fans can do that.. i want to feel in touch with them again but I’m not sure how..
Yes, he was your best friend’s 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.
Jake Kiszka came with so much you really didn’t want.
At least that’s 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. 🫶🏻
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 🖤 (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
-🌼🌼🌼-
“The covetous person is full of fear; and he or she will who lives in fear will ever be a slave.”
-Horace
-🌼🌼🌼-
Your stomach dipped all the way to the heels of your feet, your body feeling a rush of equal parts cold and hot.
There were no words spoken for several moments, and almost as soon as you’d said it, Josh had turned to face the front. Jaw clenched tighter than you’d ever seen it, he put the car in drive as his hands wrapped tightly around the wheel – 10 and 2. His back was ramrod straight and his jaw didn’t stop flexing as you swiveled to sit to look out the windshield alongside him.
Your stomach was churning— for multiple reasons. On top of the anxiety in the moment, you also hadn’t been eating much as of late. Your appetite was almost nothing — save for pickles and Cosmic-fucking-Brownies.
It had blossomed seemingly out of nowhere.
After your night of Mac and Cheese with Jake, you had started borderline craving it afterwards—alongside the brownies and pickles. But, when you’d made some for yourself, you came to realize, with the first bite to your mouth. . . That Mac and Cheese was no longer your friend.
Although, it had made very close friends with the toilet, as you’d bent over it hurling until every last bit of the yellow food deposited in front of your sweaty face.
Surprisingly, you’d still been hungry after puking. . . but unfortunately, everything else you’d tried to eat either ended up in the toilet or in the trash from the smell alone.
And, to your utter demise, Cosmic Brownies had been ruined that day, too. Their contents eventually met the toilet when you’d 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 women’s clinic. He wasn’t talking at all which was so unlike Josh. You’d never gone this long being in the same space as him where he wasn’t 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 couldn’t bring yourself to move, much less put on music that would just add to the discomfort that you’d created with your confession. And, honestly, it felt like you were already making too much noise every time you took a deep breath.
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.
And Josh just drove. Just fucking drove. And, even worse, he drove normally. Better than normal, actually. Unlike ever before, he was following the highway’s speed limit, all while not getting emotional anytime someone pulled an asshole move on the road.
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, you’d made up your mind to tell Josh to just drive back and that you could hitch a ride with an Uber.
You didn’t want to make him feel any more uncomfortable than he apparently already felt.
For one, he didn’t need to be here if he didn’t want to be. And secondly, you couldn’t fucking handle any more right now. The whole point of him being with you was because you were already fucking stressed before you’d ever even told him. And at this point, it seemed you’d been correct in your assumption of him being angry.
But right now, his reaction didn’t 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 didn’t have time to fucking sit here and let him sulk.
Releasing a deep breath once more, you finally turned to look at him once you’d unbuckled. Then, once facing him, you mustered the firmest tone possible at that moment. “Josh,” you started, sharply. He blinked slowly and flexed the muscle in his jaw once more before he turned to make eye contact with you.
Fuck. His eyes. . . Was he angry? Sad? Indifferent? You couldn’t fucking tell. You’d never seen him so guarded. God, you shouldn’t have invited him to this. You really had started to hope that he would react more like Elsie and Gia thought he would.
But he hadn’t, and you were faced with whatever the fuck this attitude was that he had chosen to wear.
Once it was obvious he was going to look at you as you spoke, you continued. “You don’t have to go in there with me,” you began, firm yet empathetic. “I won’t 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 don’t have to come in if you would rather not,” you stated, steady and sure. He was free to fucking leave if he wanted. “You can fucking leave. I will not make you go in if you’re angry or upset or uncomfortable. I’ll get a damn Uber and you can drive back to the complex to get your car.”
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.
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.
You unlocked the doors once more, making sure they were ready to go before you reached for the handle.
Resolutely, you looked over your shoulder before you addressed him once more. “I’m sorry that I made you angr—.”
“I’m not angry,” he finally said softly. After clearing his throat to talk properly again after not talking for so long, he continued. “I’m shocked and— I’m just feeling a lot of things,” he iterated, his eyes begging you to understand. And, you did. “But I am honored that you wanted me to come with you today,” he said, his face transforming to once again show you your Josh. He was back. Grabbing your hand, he finished his thought. “And I would love to go to this appointment with you.”
The tears that filled your eyes and trailed down your cheeks one by one couldn’t be helped.
“I couldn’t have done this today without you,” 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. “I’ve been so scared for this, and the only person— besides Elsie— that I wanted here with me, was you.”
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.
Then, after shaking his head, he raised a curious eyebrow to address you. “Wait,” he said wetly before clearing his throat. “Is this your first appointment?”
“Yes,” you blinked, a blush skirting over your cheeks. “I’ve been in denial of it all until super recently.” 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. “It took me a hot fucking second to come to terms with all of it, so I’m just now at the first appointment.”
He nodded, brows still furrowed as he looked down briefly before finding your eyes again. “How far along are you?”
“I think I’m technically like eleven-ish weeks,” you replied, doing quick math in your head. “I 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,” you bashfully swept your eyes over your hands, interlocked on the armrest. “For obvious reasons.”
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.
“What?!” You hastily spit out, nervous.
“Does he. . .?”
Knowing exactly what he was asking, you quickly shut down his train of thought. “Jake doesn’t know,” you informed him, tucking your chin as you quietly repeated yourself. “He doesn’t know.”
“Alright,” he responded, not questioning you in the slightest. Your eyes flashed up to meet his: the color of cocoa and sparkling. “Does Elsie?”
Without any words, you gave him a look that answered his pondering thoughts.
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.
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.
“Let’s go inside,” he encouraged, mimicking your action as he opened his own door behind your turned back.
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.
He officially knew that you’d 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 you’d 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 couldn’t help the single tear that trickled down your cheek at the overwhelming feeling of normality. He was warm. He was real. He was Josh.
He wrapped an arm around your shoulder, bringing you to him once more before taking your hand in his and wrapping it up tightly.
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 he’d given you a thousand times before.
“You’ve got this, mama,” he reassured with a wink, opening the door to the clinic for you.
-🌼🌼🌼-
The place was fucking amazing. The pictures you’d seen on its website hadn’t 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 Josh’s hand.
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.
“You go sit down,” you offered, motioning to the couches that filtered the chic waiting room. “I think I can do this part.”
“You sure?” He asked, brows dipping to show his genuine concern. “I’m with you every step of the way. I mean it.”
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. “I love you so much for that. I can’t even tell you, Josh,” you told him, a tear escaping despite your efforts. “But I’ve gotta take this step on my own.”
He nodded, needing no further explanation. “I’m over here if you need me,” he threw a thumb at the couches behind him.
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.
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.
She matched the modish aesthetic of the clinic to a T.
“Hi, babe,” she cheerily greeted you with an out-of-place Southern accent in SoHo, her voice still low to keep the room quiet. “You have an appointment today?”
You froze. The reality of it all suddenly came barreling towards you.
Fuck. Shit. Yes. I do have an appointment today. I’m pregnant. I’m standing here, waiting for an appointment because I’m fucking pregnant.
Dammit. What the fuck? I’m. . .?
You standing here suddenly seemed completely astronomical and unreal– was this truly what life was for you now? While thinking about it nonstop, you’d also not been thinking about it to the extent that it would’ve taken for all of this change to click. This was real. Real life.
You were carrying a human child.
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 times– searching your suddenly static-filled brain for the most simple word in the English language.
“Y-y-y–,” you shut your eyes tightly to reset. Come on, y/n. You’ve got this. It’s just one word.
But you suddenly weren’t sure if you ‘had this’. Your hands began to shake uncontrollably at your sides; you wiped them repeatedly on your leggings.
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.
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 couldn’t escape–not that you wanted to, by any means. . .right?! You wanted this. You wanted this.
You DO want this, y/n. Deep breaths.
The voice sounded so eerily similar to your therapist’s that it helped you to grasp onto a flicker of stabilization.
This reality was not new. You’d known it was real. You had known there was (probably—hopefully) a kid in you for the past few weeks. And being in this place didn’t make that anymore different than before— minutes before when you’d stepped through the door of the clinic.
Then you’d 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.
But you couldn’t look up from the floor. From your high-top, white Chuck Taylors, now off-white and stained from years of wear.
And swirling before your eyes in ways they shouldn’t 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.
“Yes,” Josh stated, clearly, for you. “Yes, it’s her first appointment. Y/n? Y/l/n?”
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.
“Whenever she’s ready,” her voice assuredly spoke, so soft and warm. “I’ll get y’all back there when the time feels right.”
You’d 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.
“Thank you,” you muttered. “I’m so sorry.”
She tilted her head at you, sending an understanding wink your way. “No need to apologize, sweet pea,” she calmly hushed, her voice sounding reminiscent of any old Southern woman you’d ever seen in a movie. “It’s a whole lot to deal with. We get it.”
Your lips quivered up into a small smile, eyes watery. “That means a lot,” you sputtered, fresh tears making their way to your jaw.
Dear fucking God. The tears had to stop at some point. You’d 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.
Though, you knew–you knew–that it wasn’t 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.
Sharing one more smile with the lady behind the desk, you walked with Josh back to the waiting room couch he’d been occupying prior to your blessed meltdown.
-🌼🌼🌼-
Unashamedly, you let Josh fill out all of the paperwork. You were still tense and uneasy, but the way you’d handled answering the questions, with him right by your side helped more than you’d intended it to. The process had just been an easy ebb and flow, answering basic questions about yourself.
And questions about Jake—but Josh answered those with zero problems. Basic Father-Of-The-Child shit that Josh could ramble off in his sleep. You couldn’t help peering over his shoulder as he answered those. You couldn’t explain the intrigue— you just thought it funny seeing him answer questions about his twin. . . Like it was nothing.
Then came questions about your menstrual cycle. Which were not your favorite to have Josh write the answers to— but you didn’t want to put pen to paper, so you continued to let him write even those, too.
The rest of the process went easily. He’d rattle off a question, and you’d answer it. That was how it’d gone for roughly thirty minutes.
He’d clicked his tongue, drawing a line down the section about past pregnancies. And then he’d come to a question that made him give you a look. He had one eyebrow raised as soon as he’d read through the last question.
The last question. The last question that had been slightly unwelcome and less than wonderful to have him fill in for you.
You didn’t know why you hadn’t 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 baby’s wellbeing and telling people and eating fucking pickles. . . you just hadn’t really given much weight to possible questions on this initial patient questionnaire.
You pulled your body back slightly, your own face morphing to one that mirrored his. “What?”
“The last question— they want to know if you’re sexually—,” he cleared his throat, shaking his head once before before continuing. “If you’re sexually active.”
You blushed deep crimson—your cheeks, flaming hot. You knew exactly where his mind went because it was where yours went with the question.
Are you still having sex with Jake?
You coughed briefly, clearing the awkward air before you responded. “No,” you divulged, your eyes flitting up to his: big, wondering and deep chocolate. “No. We’re not— fuck. I’m not. I’m not having sex. I don’t know if he is,” 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. It’s one question, y/n. Quit being nervous—there’s no need. “But—I’m not having sex. Not sexually active, no.”
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. “It’s okay, y/n. Either way, I don’t care. It’s your life.”
You blinked away more tears—god, fuck. Not trusting yourself to speak, you simply nodded in response. The response was what you’d needed to hear from the beginning. Would things be different if you’d heard those words from him at the beginning of all of this?
It was no use to imagine. You hadn’t heard his affirmation before now, and at this point, it was officially too late. You’d hurt Jake. Jake had moved on and proved to you that you really weren’t 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 roommate—friend at most.
Also, officially, the mother of his child.
Clasping your hands over your tummy, you watched as he checked the “no” 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 you’d 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, you’d 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 hadn’t the mind to pay attention to where the receptionist had gone.
Josh came back over to you shortly to get your driver’s license from you, along with your insurance card.
“They’ll need these on file,” he said, flashing both at you once you’d given them to him. He brought them back after they’d 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.
He was seriously the best. You, proving to be completely useless, didn’t hinder him from being the most incredible friend whilst you sat, doing nothing.
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 wasn’t going anywhere.)
“Nice day outside?” The young nurse, blonde hair pulled into a sleek ponytail, asked politely, as you stepped off the scale she’d weighed you on.
“Yeah,” you responded, glancing over your shoulder at Josh. “Nice fall day. But a little warmer than we like it, huh, Josh?”
He nodded enthusiastically. “Oh, yes,” he responded. “Definitely not enjoying my choice of clothing today. . . Not the day for a sweater, I’ll say.”
The nurse hummed, taking in the information as she grabbed a cup from the counter with your first initial and last name on it. “How long have you guys been together?” She addressed you once with a smile, looking between the two of you with a twinkle in her eye.
You didn’t mean to squawk with a laugh.
But thankfully you didn’t have to worry about it because Josh did, too.
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.
“We’re not together,” you explained, the laughter dying down as you caught the nurse’s wide eyes sympathetically. “He’s my best friend. Dating my sister, actually.”
“Oh,” she grinned shakily, eyes jumping back and forth between the two of you. “You both just–he’s here with you today—and you two just seem to fit so well together.”
You smirked, throwing a sideways glance at Josh who was watching the woman with the same sympathetic gaze as you. He must’ve sensed your staring, though, because he quickly threw a look your way.
He winked at you before adding in his two cents. “I mean, you weren’t wrong. We do mesh incredibly well, but her sister’s had my heart for a helluva a long time. However, I am the uncle,” he informed her, pointing to himself before throwing the same pointer at your tummy.
It made your heart flutter a thousand beats per minute at hearing him say, for the first time, that he’s 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. It’s part of Jake, and part of your closest confidant (aside from Elsie) for years. You’ve obviously thought about it plenty of times before now, but finally hearing Josh acknowledge it was something your heart desperately needed.
“My brother is the father. I’m just her best friend–don’t 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, though–nothing you could do about it.
You also weren’t sure what to make of Josh’s last statement–was he still upset with you that he didn’t know anything about Jake’s 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.
“Whoa,” she said, blowing out a breath. “That’s. . . wow.” 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. “Every woman that comes in for her first appointment gets her blood drawn and urinates in a cup,” she motions to the plastic container she’d handed over to you, then taps at her arm as she watches you carefully for her next spiel. “We 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.”
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.
“You can wait in that room for her,” she stretched a little half smile over her delicate features. “She will be there shortly.”
He gave you two thumbs up and a reassuring grin before going in the direction she’d 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.
It definitely matched the trendy environment of the rest of the clinic and was cleaner than probably any other public restroom you’d ever been inside. You did exactly as she’d 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.
“Going off to the lab,” she half-smiled, but quickly tipped her finger to signal you to follow her further down the hallway. “Now I’m going to draw some blood real fast, and then you’ll be free to go wait for the doctor in your room.”
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.
“Does getting your blood drawn freak you out?” She apprehensively questioned before she went to insert the needle. “Or these?” She wiggled the needle in the air to emphasize.
You shook your head, pursing your lips. “For some reason, those are two things I’m totally fine with,” you spoke, your voice tilting up at the end. “I don’t know why they don’t freak me out—everything else fucking does.”
God, shut the fuck up, y/n. Let her do her job.
The blonde gave you an odd look, as if you’d spoken too much for her taste.
And that pissed you off. You no longer felt bad for talking too much.
You fucking asked me, bitch.
Thankfully, you were able to get rid of her in minutes-time. As soon as she’d bandaged your arm over a cotton ball, she pointed you to the room she’d sent Josh.
“Thanks,” you mumbled with a small, semi-annoyed smile before making your way to the room where Josh waited.
His eyes were huge when you made your way into the small exam room.
“Holy shit,” he breathed. “You’ve got it cut the fuck out for you, huh?”
You gave him a look that said Seriously? and rolled your eyes. “Duh, Josh,” you replied, taking in the small room with pretty pictures of babies all over the walls. “I kind of already knew that. Since I am the one carrying the fuckin’ baby and all.”
God, that was harsh, y/n. He doesn’t deserve your anger like that.
Both of his hands went up to guard him as he crossed one leg over the other. “Jesus, y/n,” he sighed, eyes huge. “Give me a damn break. I didn’t even know until today that you were pregnant. Didn't fully know any of it. It’s a lot for a guy, I guess.”
“Damn, I’m so sorry that it’s so much for you as a man, Josh,” you scowled, your voice not hiding any of your irritation with him for his last comment.
Seriously, y/n?
To be fair, as amazing as Josh truly was, he was still a man— and half of the time men didn’t know their heads from their assholes. Didn’t ever know the proper times to say stupid shit. (Or, to not say it at all.)
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.
“That was a stupid thing to say,” he admitted. “Sorry.”
You tried to laugh it off. You didn’t want there to be unnecessary tension right now—it was the very last thing you needed. “It’s fine,” you encouraged.
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 you– made you feel like you were making way too much noise for the tiny room.
“I’m 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 I’ve been imagining it the whole fucking time, or if I’ve lost it. . .,” you swallowed. You had to blink back the tears gathering in your eyes as you trailed off at the dreaded possibility. “I just need you to see with me if there’s anything sad to be seen,” you added, voice suddenly wet.
“Hey,” Josh spoke, softly. “Look at me.”
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 you’d heard that podcast was coming to light, as you’d just uttered the worries aloud for the first time.
Barely seeing Josh through the wetness that clouded your vision, you replied the best you could, albeit extremely pathetically. “Yeah?”
“Why are you worried about those things?” He asked, so quietly, eyes gleaming to bring light. Grabbing your hands, his eyes became suspicious slits when he addressed his next question. “Y/n. . . Have you given yourself any time to feel excited about this appointment? Or have you just focused on the anxiety you’ve built up, surrounding today?”
You bowed your head out of embarrassment. “I’ve been excited, Josh. . .,” you muttered, completely aware of the lie.
“Mmm,” he responded, rubbing his chin with one hand as the other still grasped both of yours, sure and comforting. “I suspect that’s untrue. . . I know you, my love.”
Gasping on a sob, you closed your eyes to stop crying, covering your face with your hands. “I’m sorry.”
“Hey, hey, hey,” 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. “Don’t you dare be sorry, mama— there’s no reason. This is just the beginning; you’ve got plenty more opportunities to be excited. . . I’m sure plenty of women get worried before this first appointment. There’s a lot up in the air before the first time you see the little thing on the screen.”
You opened your eyes to look at him. And though they were still wet, nothing else was coming from your ducts— thank god. “Yeah?” You asked, desperate to know he actually might understand, tone begging him to tell you you’re not crazy. “You think?”
He nodded with his lips pursed, his new mustache squiggly with the action; his brows, tied together, and eyes, serious. “Oh, yes. I know it. You are not alone, love,” he reassured you, helping your heart rate slow to normal for the millionth time that day. “But that’s why I hope every single one of those women has a person who is there for them on days like today.” He paused, setting his eyes firmly on you before continuing. “Because, today, we are going to discover and conquer whatever we find out from that screen—,” he tilted his forehead toward the monitor screen, “Together.”
Your eyes welled, lip sticking out with a pout. God, you loved him. You truly couldn’t have done today without him. “I really need a hug from you.”
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 cologne— the familiar smell of his patchouli exactly what you needed to feel secure in the moment.
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 must’ve 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 in—?
“I’m Dr. Rose,” the beautiful lady—who was a doctor apparently, not a receptionist—greeted you with that same, thick Southern accent. “It’s nice to see you doin’ better since I last saw ya, babygirl.”
You blinked several times, feeling immediately at ease with the familiar face. “You’re a doctor? Not a receptionist?”
God, stupid, y/n. Duh. She just said that, you moron.
She chuckled. “Yes ma’am,” 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 she’d carried in with her, sitting atop the counter. “I’m your doctor, sweet cakes,” she twanged in her western tone. “I’ll be with y’all until the very end of this wonderful journey we call pregnancy.”
You grinned, appreciative of the fact that you were already familiar with her—even if it was from the tiniest interaction earlier. But you couldn’t hold onto that feeling for too long before you got nervous of the impression you’d made earlier with your anxiety attack (or whatever the hell that’d been).
With concerned brows, you cleared your throat before offering up some words of your own. “I’m so sorry that the first time you met me I was acting like a basket case,” you apologized, extremely self conscious. Crossing your legs tighter, you tucked a lock of hair behind your ear. When that still hadn’t been enough to contain the nervous energy, you let your hands rest on your belly.
Tapping away at the small bump, skin tight under your sweater, you waited for her response.
She gave you a look that immediately eased you. Her brow, raised, and beautiful red lips quirked up in a small grin. “Now, little missy, I told you earlier that we get it and I meant it.” 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. “You are not the first one to get all nervous at your first prenatal appointment—or any OB appointment at all— and you’re certainly not the last—far, far from it,” she smiled wide, close-lipped and completely empathetic. Her deep set, big, brown eyes— lashes so long and curled to perfection— showed you how much she cared, behind her big black frames. “Now, how about we get to the good stuff?”
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 turns—your skin was practically buzzing with nerves.
You were so close to seeing the truth.
Facing this head on.
“Go ahead and lay back for me,” 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. “Now can you give me a small debrief on your health history? Anything you can think of? Don’t worry about digging too, too deep right now. We have your blood samples and urine sample that will also aid in indicating any abnormalities.”
The word abnormalities wasn’t your favorite thing to hear, but you didn’t let it sit tight in your brain as you pondered anything she might need to know.
“Um,” you dipped into the more current issues you’d faced. “I guess. . . anxiety? Depression? Do those count?”
Dr. Rose hummed in approval and gave a small grin as she went to get a few materials from the cabinet.
“I think the anxiety is worse than the depression, but they’re both persistently just. . . there,” you contemplated what else. . . nothing much was coming to your mind. “I also got my tonsils taken out when I was like 12 years old. . .?”
“You say that as a question,” she commented, a lilt in her voice and a smile on her face, showing that she found it funny.
“I did have them taken out,” 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. “I’m just kind of. . .blanking. I know there’s more, but I’m just–just fucking nervous.”
“That’s understandable, sweetie pie,” she assured, her thick Southern accent making your heart rate settle just a bit.
“I know I’m 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 can’t tell you today,” you informed carefully, hoping she understood. When she nodded, you took that as your sign to continue. “I’m 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.”
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 – and whispering of your past – was enough to send you into a mini spiral. The muted lull of the clinic didn’t 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.
She was taking a long fucking time–which you were sure was normal and warranted.
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 weren’t sure what to think.
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, ‘are you okay?’.
All you could manage to do was nod in response, brows knitted.
“Alrighty, I’m going to put some of this gel on your belly and then you’ll feel a bit of pressure once we start.”
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 it’s 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.
Nothing.
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 you’d 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 didn’t help that Dr. Rose wasn’t saying anything. . . wasn’t 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 until—.
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 baby’s 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 couldn’t 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 couldn’t 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.
It was beautiful, striking, amazing, wonderful, unbelievable, and real. . . so very real.
What you had found yourself questioning for weeks wasn’t 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.
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.
“Profile looks darn good, placenta is anterior, there’s the umbilical cord. . .,” She spoke as she pointed with her finger to each shape of white that was mixed into the static. “Heartbeat is 160, there’s the bladder and the kidneys, oh!” 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 baby’s nose. “The little angel is wavin' at you, mama,” she looked down at you with a knowing smile.
Your heart swelled more than you’d 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.
“Wow,” you muttered, voice officially clogged with the tears that relentlessly poured down your cheeks. You sniffled. “It’s. . . moving?”
“Sure is,” she winked. “Has been for a while. You have an especially active little one – already. Prepare for some monster kicks here in a couple months, mama.”
“Wow,” you repeated.
“Gets it from their uncle,”Josh said, sniffling behind you.
You smiled over at him. You felt the joy he did. All around. More. This was your baby. Yours and Jake’s. God.
“Exciting, huh, babe?” She asked knowingly.
All you could do was nod. You weren’t 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.
“I know it, honey bun,” she agreed, her red lips perked with joy for you. “Also, 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.”
Once she’d confirmed the gestational age, you saw her scoot the cart back a bit and wipe the wand she’d 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.
“Twelve weeks. Yep,” you breathed, pulling your shirt down. Your cheeks lifted even more at officially knowing (relatively) how old your little bean was. “Based on my last period.”
“Yes. Because, oddly enough, that is technically when the pregnancy started,” she explained. “On the first date of your last menstrual cycle.”
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. “I don’t wanna clog up our time today with all of the technicalities – unless that’s what ya want?” She offered.
You shook your head no. Today, all you’d come in wanting to know was that your baby was alive. And you knew that now. And fuck, it felt nice. Better than.
Except . . .
“Is the baby healthy?” You asked worriedly, needing to hear her tell you.
“Positively. One hundred percent, mama,” she confirmed, her teeth sparkling behind her red lips. “From what I could see on the scan, you’ve got a perfectly healthy baby squirmin’ around in there.”
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.
Everything was going to be alright.
You looked down at Josh, his face glowing, cheeks glistening with tears. “I’m so proud of you,” he choked.
Another tear slipped down his cheek as you felt one well in your eye. You didn’t 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.
“Back to what I was sayin’ before,” Dr. Rose went on. Your eyes found her, clicking off the machine. “In that paperwork you’ll find all of the technicalities and logistics about the pregnancy. Which vitamins you should take. Prenatals our clinic suggests. Recommended foods to eat. The baby’s size week by week. When I say everything, sweetie, I mean ev-er-ything,” she emphasized in her twang. “You can find the same information on our clinic’s 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 – it’s just convenient and fun.”
“I downloaded one recently, actually. It’s been amazing. Thank you for everything,” you weakly offered. You also had to know. . . “Will you be the one delivering the baby?”
“Sure thing,” she affirmed. “With ya till ya want rid of me. Speaking of that day, our partnering hospital is Cedars-Sinai, so that is where you’ll end up having the baby,” she paused, bringing her eyes to you. “Since you indicated on the form that you would prefer a planned hospital birth over a planned home birth.”
“Correct. Hospital birth for me,” you affirmed.
“Now, we are going to schedule your next appointment for four weeks from now,” she continued, opening her tablet and typing out the information for her calendar, presumably. “How does December 8th sound, honey bun?”
You didn’t check your calendar, because you would make that day okay. Anything you needed to do to make it happen. “Sounds perfect,” you replied, practically jittering with excitement for the next one. “When will I find out the gender?”
“I always have my girls wait until week 18,” she responded, turning buttons off on the machine before scooting it back where it had started. “So, 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.”
“Got it,” you told her.
“Your sonogram pictures will be waitin’ at the front desk for ya,” she said, washing her hands. Then, after she dried them, she grabbed her laptop. “And finally, your due date is–at this point, according to what we know–May 23rd.”
The date was suddenly the most important you’d ever heard.
It was the day you now felt you’d been waiting for your entire life.
Without ever knowing it.
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.
The most precious gift that you’d made with someone so precious to you.
-🌼🌼🌼-
Once you’d finished the appointment, Josh had asked if you had any plans. And when you’d 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.
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, you’d taken some time to catch up. You’d talked about him and Elsie, Elsie and her travels, and the fact that you’d started going to therapy. (Next to the baby, he was most excited about this.)
All you’d ordered was a Sprite since you weren’t 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. He’d made sure to tell the waitress to grab you a water, too.
And after a quick trip to the bathroom to relieve your ever-aching bladder, you were back at the table.
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 you’d sat down, the waitress was bringing Josh a new, piping hot tea, since he'd (apparently) already finished the first.
And then, as soon as she was gone, he was talking.
“I sort of had a weird inkling of something going on. . .,” Josh noted as he stirred, then took a long swig of his tea, steam still emitting from the top. “Goddammit!” He gasped, a pained expression painting his features, as he coughed over the warm temperature of the beverage. “Hot hot hot hot,” he repeated to himself, finding his ice water and taking an even longer swig.
You couldn’t 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 couldn’t be ignored, though. . . you’d 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.
“How?”
“Well, y/n,” he replied smartly, motioning to the cup. “It just came from the pot, I’m sure. Don’t you see the damned thing is steaming? Why did I even take a–?”
“No,” you stopped his rambling to clarify your question. “How did you . . .? Did you seriously know?” As you were still air-quoting the last few words, he was already nodding his head to answer you. “How? Why? What did we do wrong? I-I mean- God. Do Sam and Danny know, too?”
“Now, I didn’t say I knew,” 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. “In essence, I said I had an idea. And you didn’t do anything wrong. I just– he’s my fucking twin, y/n,” he set you with a stare that said ‘Remember?! Can’t fool me!’, before he continued. “And where you’re concerned. . . I know you very well. You’ve been my best friend for several years. . ." he reminded you. "Oh, and I’m also a fucking empath. Which you, my dear, were the first one to ever point out my empathic tendencies. . .,” he winked at you with a grin on his full lips. “You should’ve known you couldn’t keep that shit from me. Not without me getting suspicious as hell.”
“Are you mad?”
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.
“Nah,” was all he supplied, his eyes hyper focused on the white ceramic mug.
Of course, you were not convinced. “Josh. Look at me.”
When his eyes slowly slid up to find yours, you found at least one reason he hadn’t 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.
“I–,” 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. “It’s not that I’m mad. It’s really hard to make me mad. I’m 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.” 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.
Damn, he and Jake look very similar when they get angry, you suddenly discovered.
“And now, he’s just been fucking Maya while you’ve had to deal with–.”
The tears came instantly. Your vision was blurry before you were even able to process that the tears were there.
“Oh my god, y/n. I’m so– fuck. I’m sorry,” Josh tried, his tone willing you to hear him out.
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. “Can we please not–?”
“Y-yeah, Goddammit,” he nervously fluffed the front of his hair. “Y/n, please look at me.”
Forcing your eyes away from the clear autumn sky, you found his eyes, earnestly begging for you to listen to him. “He wasn’t– he hasn’t– I don’t–,” he growled under his breath, reaching forward for your hand. Which you only stared at until he spoke next. “Please, just take my hand.”
So, you did as he asked and looked at him with desperately sad eyes.
He watched you carefully for a few minutes, letting the tears leave as he reassured you and apologized a couple more times.
He cleared his throat, blinking his eyes a few times before apparently deciding on a new conversation. “When did you guys begin. . .?”
You knew he was asking when you’d started fucking his brother. But he obviously wasn’t going to say it.
Nice turn in conversation, Josh.
“It’s complicated,” 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. “Was it that night at Baby’s All Right?”
How the fuck did he know that–?
But, like you said, it was more complicated–because, no, it really didn’t start at Baby’s.
“Technically," 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 shouldn’t have ever started.”
Instantly, you felt guilty.
The words felt wrong to say. . .the first thing coming to your mind – the baby.
If it hadn’t started, you wouldn’t 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.
And the second thing. . . you couldn’t 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.
“Yes, it should have,” he affirmed, your eyes flickering to him. “For my niece or nephew alone.”
“You’re right,” you agreed, eyes filling with more tears at the conversation and the spiraling thoughts in your mind. “But, 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.”
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.
“He was mad that night,” 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. “And now I know why. You weren’t there.”
“Essentially, yes,” you confirmed with a tilt of your head. You couldn't help but snicker with the next part. “It started when I got home.”
Josh’s lips stretched to the point that his eyes bulged and his cheeks puffed out. He blew out a breath while his eyes stayed huge. “And that is all I need to know about that night.”
You couldn’t help but giggle at his expression and his words, to which he lightened with you, falling into a soft moment of laughter alongside you.
When the humor died down, he took the initiative to speak. And you let him. You really weren’t feeling like talking. The smells of the cafe, for one, were starting to make your stomach turn. “I could’ve guessed that it started around that time,” he began. You quirked a brow, asking him to explain further. “He . . . he changed around that time.” You didn’t speak, which told him to continue. “You see, when he first got to New York, he was so fucking surly and rude. He wasn’t just like that with you, mama. He was short as hell with me, too. And the other guys got his bad side – especially Sammy. His heart was broken and he didn’t 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?”
You nodded an affirmation, impressed by the quick math.
“Yeah, he was Jake again,” he expressed, eyes tearing up again. “He was joyful for the first time in years. I hadn’t 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 – she was stopping him. But you. . . you must’ve encouraged him to be himself. You didn’t turn down the challenge. You took a chance on my brother.”
After considering the words, the lightbulb appeared above your head. That conversation the day in the record shop. The same day you’d played over and over again to convince yourself out of being with Jake. You’d focused on the other words so much that you’d forgotten all about the positive things–the 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.
Josh had nodded, lips turned down, his eyes still holding a little glint. “Yup. Get my point now?”
“Yeah, but like I just said, I’m not one to turn down a challenge. Just like you, Josh. And your brother. . .I’ve learned he is nothing if not a challenge.”
He had nodded, knowing you were right. And he’d 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.
“So. . . you’re not hurt?” You asked, your voice hoarse from not talking. You cleared it, and tried again. “You’re not hurt?”
“A little, I guess,” he nodded, eyes studying you.
“That’s fair,” you encouraged – glad he was sharing his heart. “I’m sorry for not telling you. But I just kept hearing your voice in my head–that same day we talked about challenges– that same day you’d 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 didn’t want to betray you. Didn't want him to betray his dreams. But then it just became something bigger that I couldn’t control. It was . . . different than anything else I’ve ever experienced. I couldn’t stop it from happening.”
“Did you want to stop it?”
“I 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 you’d said to me. . . Going against your wishes for him.”
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 didn’t show it. He licked at his lips and peered at you pensively, curiously. “God, y/n. I’m sorry. What did I even say? I don’t remember,” he sighed, rubbing his forehead. “I hate that my words have been just fuckin’ tormenting you, mama. I’m so sorry.”
“No,” you said, pointing your finger at him, your eyes serious to communicate your point. “You don’t be sorry. I’m the one who was in the wrong. Not even Jake, necessarily,” you included the last part, just on Jake’s behalf. “I was the one who did it even after you’d confided in me that you were happy Jake was getting to live life for himself for the first time – without having to worry about being hung up on a girl. And, then I just let myself be that girl you didn’t want for him – I was the girl to get in his way while he should’ve been living for himself.”
“In the spirit of fairness, though, I told him that he needed to take a break from women. He didn’t listen to me either. Well, sort of. . . he actually did follow my advice, I guess,” he encouraged, his eyes searching yours. “Because I also told him that I wanted him to think of what he wanted first.” His tone lifted as he winked at you.
Your brow wrinkled . . . what was he trying to say?
He continued, “Which, I guess, my dear, after the dream . . . was you.”
Feeling suddenly lightheaded and loopy with Josh’s words, you let them settle for a minute or two before saying anything more.
And, the waitress had perfect timing. She filled the open air by asking if you needed anything. First time she’d been back in a hot damn second. Josh asked for a new tea, and you asked for another glass of Sprite.
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.
“But. . . no,” you declined his words, shaking your head. “No, Josh. He didn’t put himself first – he had a woman – me – that he was focused on instead of learning himself.”
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.
As soon as she left, though, the two of you were back to it.
“Y/n,” 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. “He did. He moved here. He started pursuing the dream. He got a job he loved by teaching lessons.” Thus meeting Maya, you snarkily thought. “He did put himself first. Did all of that, and then he pursued you.”
. . . you hadn’t really thought of it that way. Not once had you considered that.
God. What if you’d told Josh a long time ago? Chances were, he would’ve eased your fears and worries. . . but instead, you’d assumed he’d think the worst and let your thoughts derail.
Would you even be in the predicament you were today?
You knew the answer. The answer was most likely no. You wouldn’t have the baby because there would’ve 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?
You didn’t know. . . but. . . it was too late now.
You were where you were now and there was nothing you could do about it.
And none of this ever worked in how Maya had already been in the picture – 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 this– 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 wouldn’t 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.
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 weren’t even sure what you would change–or what you would think if you could turn back time. There was too much filling up your brain–your life– to make the wisest decision.
It didn’t matter anyway.
So, you told Josh all you could think to say. The same words you’d thrown nastily in Jake’s face, you threw harshly in your own.
“Well, I guess I served my purpose.”
-🌼🌼🌼-
When Josh pulled your car into your space, Jake’s 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-.
“I really am most mad at my brother.”
“Try not to be,” you encouraged lamely. You really didn’t 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.
“I’m going to be for a whi–.”
Tap tap tap.
Both of your eyes turned to Josh’s window. Outside of the driver’s 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.
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.
“What have you two been up to?” he questioned, the inflection on the word ‘you’ paired with his snide tone told you he was probably less than thrilled to see you and Josh together. Alone, at that.
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 wasn’t due to the hormones wreaking havoc in your tummy, it was Jake’s presence at this incredibly horrid time that had your belly flipping in slow motion somersaults.
Josh huffed a laugh that nearly replicated Jake’s. Mimicking his twin to further his irritation, no doubt. You knew Josh was in no mood to put up with Jake’s 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.
“Funny that you should ask, Jacob,” 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?
“Because," Josh began. "I don’t exactly believe it’s any of your business what we're doing. In fact, I know it’s none of your business.”
Ironic. . . because it most definitely was his business. He just didn’t 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.
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.
All you knew for sure, was that this wasn’t the right time.
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.
“‘Kay, got it,” 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 couldn’t help but notice how it stretched the fabric even tighter against his perfectly, rounded ass. A sight you still fawned over, admittedly.
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, you’d 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. “I have so much that I want to say to him,” he muttered, mostly to himself as his tone was hushed.
Yeah. Me fucking too, you thought to yourself. Don’t 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 Josh’s, 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 wasn’t planning on going anywhere. At least not anytime soon.
“You ready to go inside, mama?”
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.
“Hey. . .,” you started as he already had one foot out the door.
He stalled his movements and promptly turned his head to face you.
“Yeah?” he answered, the same smile still cocked in the corner of his mouth.
“When should I tell him?”
He situated himself back inside, resting his back against the dark leather. His eyes were cast on yours, soft and kind as you’d always known them to be, yet a seriousness found within them.
“That’s up to you, mama. You have to decide when the time feels right.” His gentle hand reached to grab your shoulder in a reassuring gesture, effectively pulling you away from your burdening thoughts.
Once you’d 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 day’s rays when he finished the line of thought he’d started in the car.
“But. . . knowing my twin, he’d want to know sooner rather than later. Don’t wait too long, love. He’s got a good heart, you know that. Give him the chance to step up like I know he will.”
-🌼🌼🌼-
Friday, November 11, 2022
You’d missed the show completely. As you knew you would.
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.
Thankfully, you’d been able to finish it in time to at least meet the boys at the bar (smoke free, Josh had clarified on the phone) they’d decided to hang out at after the show. You hadn’t hung out with them after a show in forever. Hadn’t even been to a show in. . .well, you didn’t even know how long.
The reason could be mostly chalked up to your intense homework load this semester, but part of you knew you’d also been trying to avoid them due to the addition of Maya.
It just didn’t feel the same anymore. And you knew you couldn’t force yourself to pretend. So, the extra school work turned out to be a pretty good excuse. At least you weren’t fabricating anything when you’d told them you couldn’t make it. (Although you would prefer if you didn’t have so much fucking homework.)
But you did miss watching Jake perform. You missed the faces he’d make while playing his guitar, the ones that so closely resembled the one’s he’d make with you. The way he’d 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.
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.
And with the way your body kept betraying you – 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 wasn’t the best idea to watch him perform like that with your hormones going ballistic.
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.
Putting yourself in a situation where he’d inevitably be near – sitting at the same booth as you, most likely. Admittedly, it wasn’t your most incredible idea. But Josh telling you the other guys had been missing you made you realize how badly you’d missed them.
So. Here you were. Scrolling on pregnant influencers’ Instagram pages for helpful tips and testimonials (and occasionally Jake’s page, just to torture yourself) as you waited for them.
Just as you’d 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.
Thankfully, the rest of your body looked mostly the same as normal – 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 weren’t 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.
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 change—but they didn’t feel little to you. . . Anything that changed felt massive to you.
. . .Hence why you were being overly cautious with the giant sweaters. . . Because, to you, it looked so obviously different that you didn’t 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 couldn’t get up to pee. . . It was too much of a risk that you’d lose the one big booth to this hastily growing Friday night crowd.
Just as you’d started contemplating your lack of options, a particular laugh you’d gotten (unfortunately) used to, made its way through the crowded bar. Your eyes zoomed to the dark haired, caramel-skinned beauty who’d taken up residence in Jake’s life.
Maya.
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 you’d effectively heated up for the last twenty minutes because your one and only solution had just walked in.
You didn’t want to walk away and lose your spot, so you did the only thing you could think to do.
“Maya!” 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.
Is this the first time I’ve ever spoken to her? You wondered briefly.
Even though you knew the answer.
Yes, definitely the first time I’ve 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 she’d 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 smile—bright white teeth complimented by her full lips.
Standing up had caused your bladder to go into emergency mode—a 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.
That’s 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 she’d been talking with and made her way to you.
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.
Every man she passed had to do a double take, watching her as she passed by them. . . You didn’t 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 couldn’t see her ass, because you knew the exquisitely round part of her would have you heading for the door rather than the restroom.
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 didn’t 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 weren’t sure how you’d make it to the restroom, but you had to try.
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. “I’ve gotta pee really fucking bad,” you hastily said, taking the final step from the back of the booth. “Can you save this table for me so we have a place to sit?”
“We?” She questioned. “Y/n, I would definitely normally save it for you and your friends, but I have to work on finding my own place since I’m waiting here for Jake and the—.”
“Jake and the guys, I know.” 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.
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. “I’m here to hang with you guys, too, but I’ve gotta—.”
“Pee!” She finished, a giggle that was probably supposed to be cute left her lips. “Go! I’ll save it. Go, go, go!”
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.
-🌼🌼🌼-
When you got back out, you were instantly met with the sight of all of the guys at the back booth you’d saved.
Your eyes, sadly, found Jake and Maya first – 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.
But with the way Jake’s hand toyed with the hair over her shoulder and eventually traveled to squeeze (and hold) her waist. . . you knew why she wasn’t 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.
Pushing any emotion down that threatened to boil up to the surface, you kept on walking to the booth.
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.
Then, Sam was loudly exclaiming your presence, telling you that he was waiting for his own hug.
You went around the three brothers who wanted to give you a squeeze.
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 Jake’s turn.
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.
You reciprocated with essentially the same response, your stomach falling to your feet as you did so. It was ludicrous to think he’d 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.
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 that’d been so accustomed to yours. You couldn’t 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.
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.)
But— you knew at this point, there was a fat chance of that ever happening.
He didn’t 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.
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.
He didn’t give two shits about you that way anymore. Why would he?
The terrible things you’d said to him in the kitchen were the first reason that came to your mind. Haunted you everyday, reminding you that you didn’t deserve his attention.
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.
But what the two lovebirds didn’t know was that you were carrying a part of him within you that she couldn’t do a thing about. No matter what she was to him, she didn’t have what you did.
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.
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.
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.
“Y/n,” Josh spoke, breaking you from your reverie.
“Mmm?” You hummed.
Then he was leaning over, whispering so quietly in your ear. “You’re about to give particular notice to your stomach.”
Shit. You instantly dropped your hand, looking around to make sure no one had noticed.
Thankfully, no one had.
You mouthed a ‘thank you’ to your best friend, and scooted into the space he and Daniel had left for you, between them, on their side.
Sitting again helped to balance you, as the dizziness from earlier kept coming back in tiny spurts. You didn’t know what it was all about, but you knew it was probably something attributed to pregnancy. It was probably something normal that you didn’t need to be worried about.
But, you figured having someone to lean on would help to keep you steady. So, you found Josh’s 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.
-🌼🌼🌼-
About an hour later, you found yourself humming along to the music that had gotten progressively louder over the time you’d been sitting with the guys. Getting lost in the melodies felt nice. And you’d 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, you’d essentially let yourself become an observer. You’d just listened to them talk about all of these new, sudden opportunities that were coming around for them.
So much was changing.
They were essentially done with the smaller gigs. Their label’s 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. They’d even begun advertising the boys with promotional pictures and posters all over active streets in Brooklyn.
“We’ve had photoshoots, y/n,” Sam had boasted in wonder at one point, making sure to involve you in the conversation. “Photoshoots! Like, real rockstar things.”
“‘S fucking nuts,” Daniel agreed, nodding beside you, sending you a small smile. “People working on wardrobe for us and all that shit.”
“Well, you are rockstars,” 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 he’d been waiting for you to acknowledge him. “You’ve been ready for this for a long time. I’m just glad you are finally getting to live it.”
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. Didn’t trust yourself with what might come out of your mouth. What had her feeling all bitter and shit? She didn’t get the fucking half of it.
That particular thought had your hands falling to clasp tightly against your tummy, thankfully hidden by the table.
They’d 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 couldn’t imagine how it felt for them.
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 album’s release. Because of all of your recent . . .changes, it just felt like a terrible time for things to feel so unsure and abnormal.
You knew it was selfish to feel that way. You did. It was just impossible to not feel worried and anxious.
The stress inevitably started climbing up into your upper back, creating tension. And, Josh, being Josh, must’ve sensed a change in your demeanor. He’d wrapped his arm around your shoulders when you started feeling all bunched up and jittery. You’d leaned into it, needing the incredible amount of comfort in his embrace and presence.
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 Jake’s guest. Who sat there looking so beautiful all night. Jake’s arm hadn’t left her shoulders all night, twirling her long waves between his long fingers. You had to look away at several points. It didn’t take long for the sight to become too much. Your ever-present nausea only increased by watching them.
So you didn’t watch. Didn’t 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.
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.
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 months’ time — once the label execs heard a few songs, and released them as singles. Then, they would get to preview them to the public.
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 label’s attempt to get an idea of touring being a possibility.
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.
“I have faith that they’ll love us,” Sammy said, buzzing with excitement. “I’m speaking that shit into existence.”
The rest of the guys agreed.
Your eyes inadvertently snapped to Jake when he spoke next. “And once we start touring. . .,” he said, grin huge and his eyes shining at the other guys. “That’s when it all becomes fucking real. And it’ll be here before we even know it.”
Your stomach fell.
Josh squeezed your knee after he’d said it, knowing exactly what you were thinking.
Your thoughts were fucking spiraling. Looking down, you closed your eyes to will the tears away— tried your best to be subtle with your bundled up emotions.
You felt so excited for him. You wanted it for them—for him. All along, you’d wanted him to live his dream. The one he’d 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 knots—the idea of Jake being a dad, but not getting to be one. Leaving you. Leaving the baby. It wouldn’t be a bad thing, per se, but it was going to hurt like hell.
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 he’d want to abandon it for you) — it was the last thing you wanted. The last thing that would happen.
He would live the dream. Even if you had to force him to do so.
No matter how badly you already knew you’d 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.
But. . . Jake.
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 Josh’s shoulder, letting your eyes drift closed after a while. Didn’t sleep, no, but you felt like you could have. Your body felt loose and weak from the night’s stress slowly leaving your body as you focused on Josh’s steady breathing and the music.
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.
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 couldn’t open them much more. And the dizziness from earlier was back with force.
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. He’d sneak the occasional smile to give a sign of him remaining loyal to your company as well as the others’.
The melodious harmonies of Stevie Wonder’s "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.
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 you’d 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 you’d 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.
You knew it instantly. You’d be able to hear this song even if it weren’t blaring throughout the building.
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.
You hadn’t looked at him yet, but you felt Jake’s eyes piercing through you.
You didn’t want to look at him. Not yet.
Your hormones had been far too out of whack for that. You knew you’d cry instantly upon seeing his face while this song played at a volume that you now wish was much, much lower.
Aretha’s powerhouse voice repeated it over and over again.
You’re all I need to get by, you’re all I need to get by, you’re all I need. . .
No, you weren’t looking at Jake. But he was still the only vision clouding your mind’s eye.
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 could’ve.
And when I lose my will, you’ll 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 don’t know what’s in store, but together we can open any door. . .
Without even meaning to, your eyes met his.
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.
If you were delusional, you’d even go so far as to say he was admiring you. . . The way his eyes flashed a bit as you watched him, too.
But you weren’t delusional.
Though, you just knew that he was thinking the same thing as you. . . He knew. He knew this song was special.
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.
You looked back up, sniffing once and shaking your head.
Why did I have to fucking look?
“God, I wish they’d play music from this century here for once. Or at least something halfway decent,” Maya snickered, her attention on Jake, pulling his gaze away from you with her ignorant remark. “This song could put me straight to sleep. Music like this is meant to be left in the past where it belongs.”
What the hell? What was even the point?
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 Josh’s face, and you knew he wouldn’t 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. “How 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.”
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. Didn’t trust your emotions to stay steady enough to get your point across.
This was personal.
To your shock, it was Jake that ended up breaking the awkward silence at the table. “You know, babe, some of us have some pretty significant memories tied back to music like this,” he asserted, sharply, pulling away from her, dropping his arm from her shoulders to look at her better. “This song specifically. . . At least for me.”
Your heart leapt into your throat at what he was implying. Significant? He couldn’t mean. . .? But then he flashed his eyes to you. And you knew.
Fuck, Jake. The butterflies let completely loose in your tummy at the implication. At the look.
He continued, his voice growing softer, while staying assertive. “And it could very possibly be hurtful to others when you say surface level shit like that.”
Maya scoffed, rolling her eyes. This was the first time you’d ever witnessed the woman be something other than a dream. “So I can’t have opinions, hm?”
“I never said—,” Jake tried, getting interrupted by her continuing.
She was piercing him with a glare, tone biting. “Did 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?”
You didn’t mean to snort a small laugh at her words.
But. . . 21 Savage?!
Thankfully, you weren’t alone in finding amusement in the words as everyone else had a similar response. Sammy spit out the drink he’d 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.
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 could’ve spoken, you assumed he’d say something along the lines of ‘oh, shit.’
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. “Maya, my dear,” he giggled, the words distorted a little by the wipe of the napkin. “You surely can’t have an emotional connection with his music?”
“Maybe I do,” she retorted, scooting away from Jake a little. Crossing her arms over her cleavage, she eyed Sammy, judgmentally. “Maybe it saw me through some really hard times.”
“Did it?” Danny tried, his face seeming earnest in pursuit to find sense in her music taste.
“Well,” her eyes found Danny’s, but darted around a bit, still. “Not necessarily. . . But I do enjoy his music. . . Which is my prerogative.”
Josh’s brow was quirked. He stared her down, his face a mixture of amusement and annoyance. “Maya,” he cleared his throat. Her eyes found him, hard and defensive. But it was obvious she was losing some steam. “There is a difference between enjoying music and having it change the entire trajectory of your entire life.”
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.
“One pepperoni pizza,” she said, placing one giant tray of pizza on the table.
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 you’d 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 pizza’s smell appealing. Fuck.
“And. . .,” Sammy’s excited tone broke through your nauseous reverie.
You didn’t 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 it’s own special, rancid smell that you hadn’t ever noticed until now.
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.
Closing your eyes, you tried your best to will it away.
But you couldn’t. 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.
You found Josh’s 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.
That would be real cute. A really effective way to make Jake look at you. . . but not for the reasons you’d want.
At. All.
Thankfully, Josh got the hint and quickly scooted out of the booth to allow you out.
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 you’d just produced.
I haven’t 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 hadn’t 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.
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.
Josh gave you a sympathetic grin. He mouthed an ‘I’m sorry’ and you just shook your head, reassuring him with a mimicked ‘It’s fine’ 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.
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 don’t know. So quit looking at me.
“You feelin’ sick, Baby Dragon?” Sam said, breaking you out of your staring contest with Jake.
“Yeah, noticed you weren’t drinking tonight. . . you okay?” Danny interjected.
“O–Oh, yeah. No, yeah,” you shook your head, which only caused your head to throb. Shit. “Just tired. Exhausted from school.” And from carrying a human life in my uterus. “I wanna get home and rest.”
“I forced her to come tonight,” Josh added. He looked at you before exchanging looks with the other guys, emphasizing his point to help you out. “She has had her nose to the fucking grindstone. I insisted she needed a night out.”
“Forced her?” Jake scoffed with a roll of his eyes. “God, y/n. If you don’t want to come, then don’t come.”
You fumed at his words. What the fuck? Just minutes ago he was jumping to defend your song. “He didn’t force me,” you growled back at him. Don’t test a pregnant woman carrying your goddamn baby, Jacob. “What he meant was that he encouraged me to come since I haven’t been around for a while.”
“And why’s that?” Jake pushed, continuing to jest at you. Is this a game to you, asshole?
“Jake,” Josh snapped, tone sharp and heated.
“School,” 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. “But that’s not really any of your business is it, Jake?”
He was silent, his jaw clenching. Then he looked back to Maya, starting a conversation with her, effectively shutting you out.
You weren’t 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 he’d shown the soft side of his heart. The Jake side of his heart.
The one flashing through your mind at this moment was on the night of the Halloween party. When he’d picked up the dropped brownies for you and then offered to help you carry stuff to your room. . . albeit he had been drunk. It’d still been him. You knew it. It was something he’d do. . . you knew him.
And you knew him well enough to know when he was acting like an ass, it meant he was hurt. You weren’t oblivious to the recent hurt you’d 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 didn’t 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.
“Be safe,” Danny offered sympathetically, reaching a hand out. You grasped it, rubbing your thumb over the back.
As soon as he let go, Sam was up and pulling you into a hug. Once he’d succeeded in killing your boobs again, he held onto your shoulders. “We miss you,” 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. “Love you, y/n.”
You repeated the phrase back to him before Josh got up, presumably to walk you to the door. “I promise I’ll start coming around more often again,” you told them. “I miss you, too.”
And just before you stepped to head toward the exit, you found Jake’s eyes again.
They were softer now, showing concern he couldn’t hide at your current state. But there was still that fire behind them that you’d learned was purely Jake. And it made your heart thump a little harder in your chest.
-🌼🌼🌼-
The tiredness was unreal. You honestly couldn’t remember the last time you were so fucking exhausted. Everything that had been happening recently–the therapy, telling Josh that you were pregnant with his twin’s baby, being pregnant with said baby (and worrying that you weren’t), taking sixteen-fucking-hours of classes. . . it had been a lot. That much was obvious as hell.
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 what’d 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 pregnancy–ten to twelve weeks.
And considering you were right about at 12 or so, it was on the mark.
But when you’d read that, you hadn’t 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 exhaustion–right after taking a measly Tylenol for the pounding headache that’d been burgeoning for the past several minutes.
All you could do at this specific moment, though, was focus on driving–and 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 weren’t supposed to. Goddamn.
You finally made it to your parking space–by 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 breaths–but even that was getting hard to do. Fuck.
Finding your motherfucking bearings was proving to be a task and a half.
And your head was just fucking throbbing relentlessly.
“Dammit,” you groaned again, the words slurring just a bit.
Somehow, though, you were able to make the trek from your car to the complex’s staircase–so close, yet so far, from your place. But you could feel the way your heart was thrumming quickly in your chest—just 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.
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.
Shit. How the fuck am I going to climb these steps like this?
But, you weren’t 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.
-🌼🌼🌼-
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.
The bed itself felt reminiscent of high quality cardboard, but the sheets were warmer than you would’ve expected.
Letting your body relax back into the warm, polycotton sheets, you began to drift back to wherever you’d 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 open–immediately hating the way the fluorescent lighting assaulted your irises. You didn’t know if it was possible, but you were damned sure you could feel your pupils adjusting to the overbearing beams from the bulbs.
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.
“Yes, yes,” 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. “Y/n? Oh, fuck,” his voice was thick with emotion. His gaze became wet as he checked your face over. “I was so worried about you.”
You didn’t know what to say, since you weren’t 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.
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 hospital’s 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.
And no nausea – 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 weren’t sure if water even had a taste, but at that moment, you swore it did and that it tasted like liquid gold would.
Once you’d had enough for the moment, almost draining the large cup, you backed away and leaned into the pillows that awaited behind you.
Sighing in relief, you tried to say words again. And this time, it worked. “What’s going on?” You slowly spoke, your head still feeling slightly airy. You let your eyes trail to Josh’s, questioning him. “Why am I here?”
Then, you started panicking. You shot up from where you’d settled against the pillows, clutching your stomach. The IV’s 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 didn’t mean– oh no. Your deepest fears came to life in your head, piece by terrifying piece. The baby.
“Oh, fuck, Josh,” you said, your eyes were wild and immediately drew wetness, which ran steadily down your cheeks. No no no no no. “The baby? Is the baby–? Oh–.”
“Yes, yes,” Josh shushed you, running his free hand over the top of your head. “The baby is fine. Already checked and looks the same as it did a few days ago,” his eyes shone with reassurance. “Nothing is wrong with the baby.”
“Heartbeat?”
“Steady as can be.”
You felt your lungs fill with air again. “Okay,” you breathed out, leaning back into the pillows once more. “Okay.”
“But you on the other hand,” he started, his brow raising and eyes burning into yours. “You need to be giving yourself proper attention, mama.”
“I—?” You shook your head. You knew you weren’t the most attentive to yourself, but you’d tried very hard to be more self-serving recently in some regards. Longer showers, Friends, Cosmic Brownies (RIP) and pickles, therapy (if that counted). . . “I’ve been trying. . .”
But the vomiting is proving some of that to be impossible, Joshua, you thought silently, snidely.
“What your friend is trying to tell you,” 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. “Well—friend? Father of the baby?”
You both spoke at the same time.
“Oh, no—.”
“Not me,” Josh corrected with a laugh, his smile bright and humored underneath his new mustache. “That’s my brother’s baby in there.”
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.
Jake’s baby.
“Oh, my apologies,” she smiled, her crows feet wrinkling, voice wise with years of experience. “I just wanted to proceed using the correct title to address you. Speaking of which, I am Dr. Stevens. It’s nice to meet you, Miss y/n.”
“Same to you,” you answered with a tiny, unsure smile and nod. “Thank you.”
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. “Miss y/n,” she said, sounding like you’d imagine a caring mother would. “You are here because your iron was frighteningly low,” she said, concerned and checking your chart. “If it had gone untreated one more night, you would have been incredibly ill and unable to function properly at all come morning.”
“What?” You asked, shocked. Anemia wasn’t a new thing to you, you’d always had it. How had it intensified so quickly? “I mean, sure, I’ve always had mild anemia. Just kind of a thing that’s been there . . .haven’t thought about it in years, actually,” (because of some damn triggering, buried memories attached to it). “But I’ve never had – it’s never been as. . . Intense as this,” you held up your hand that was covered in tape and inserted tubes.
“Well, honey, you’re carrying a baby now who also needs those vital nutrients to help it develop,” she counseled. “And proper hydration,” 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 it’d been so far. “And prenatal vitamins– those are essential for you and the baby.”
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 hadn’t you bought any damned prenatals yet? Fuck all.
“Yes ma’am. I don’t know why I haven’t been taking–,” you tried, huffing. You were ashamed of yourself. “God, I feel bad,” you placed two hands on your tummy and looked down at it through the hospital gown you’d been changed into. “How has all of it not harmed the baby?”
“Well, again, tomorrow would have been a completely different story had you not been rushed in tonight,” she reminded, talking you through it slowly. “But we’ve got fluids pumping through you to get you back to normal.” She motioned to Josh, you looked at him with a small smile that he reciprocated. “And your friend has promised to take you for a prenatal run tomorrow morning. To find the ones that you feel might suit you best.” Dr. Stevens smiled, looking over at your bedside table. Your eyes followed, seeing the small medicine bottle sitting there, waiting for you. “For now, I have a couple ready to send home with you,” she assured.
“I’ve never been the best at prioritizing my health,” 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. “I have ingrained my brain with several unhealthy, learned habits,” you admitted, finally looking at Dr. Stevens again. “So I guess this was a reality check of sorts. That it’s not just me anymore. I can’t just ignore what I need to acknowledge.”
You didn’t know what was inspiring the constant flow of transparently deep emotions to all of these unknown people in your life, but you weren’t totally opposed to it anymore.
Dr. Stevens’ face contorted to show that she had sympathy. You were relieved. But when she spoke next, her voice was firm. “You’re 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.”
God. She was right. You had seen the words Failure to Thrive on multiple sources you’d checked out about pregnancy. . . .always just skimmed past them, as it didn’t 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). . .
You’d been so in your head about the present state of your health that you hadn’t taken nearly enough time to consider the baby.
“I’ve just never been bad about eating. This is new,” you confided. “And it’s just gotten worse this past week or so. . . I haven’t been able to eat. Everything has made me want to vomit.” Then you decided to add, “Well, everything besides pickles. They’ve been my only source of any nutrients – which I know is pathetic, by the way – I just–just can’t even be in the same room as most food, much less eat it.”
“You’re experiencing a severe case of hyperemesis gravidarum, which is just a fancy way of saying that you’re excessively vomiting during your pregnancy. It’s due to a drastic change in hormones. Your HCG levels are through the roof, where they’re usually not. Most women just have to suffer through it,” she said in response, handing you sheet with the fancy medical term at the top. “That is an information sheet. Keeps you informed on the ins and outs of why you might be experiencing it.” She sighed before going on. “It will pass, honey. Give it a few more weeks and you should be over the worst of it – if not before. But being anemic makes it that much worse,” she explained, flipping her readers over her eyes and looking through the papers on her fancy clipboard. “You’ve just gotta stay on top of those preexisting conditions.”
“And not taking the prenatals. . .,” she scolded, making you look up from scanning the sheet. She gave you a look. “Is what has you in this condition. You should also be taking an additional iron supplement. I’m. . . sure you didn’t tell your OB about your previous anemia?” She wondered aloud.
“No,” you murmured. “I really haven’t seen it present itself since I was really young. And it wasn’t really severe. . . at least I don’t think,” 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. “There are things from my childhood that I’ve forgotten. And even though I do actually know I experienced bouts of it during that time, I haven’t ever really acknowledged it because I just kind of forced myself to forget about it.”
Really, for some godforsaken reason, thinking about your anemia only brought back very unwelcome flashes of your mother’s house. . . and other dirty places you didn’t want to think about. Hence why you’d blocked it out.
Josh squeezed your hand– tried to bring you back.
Thankfully, Dr. Stevens continued before the thoughts could take over. “I am sorry, honey,” she said, empathetic. But, she continued on professionally. “The 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,” she paused when you chuckled at the word ‘revamp’. Yeah, right. She smirked at it, too. “I know, funny word choice. Doesn’t always feel like you’re revamping,” she flipped to the next page in her chart. “What I mean is, things can come back up and be bigger–stronger–than before. One more thing that is changing and increasing in your body. Medical conditions from the past may come back and get more ‘intense’,” she winked at you, using your word from earlier. “But, it’s important: now that the anemia has shown itself again – so aggressively – at a time that your body is already very vulnerable. . .” She sighed, flipping her readers back into her dark gray hair before unclipping a paper from the chart and handing it to you. “It’s time we get a handle on all of it before it possibly shows its ugly face again.”
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 – or actually puke. But, there were a few things you didn’t have at home. Boring, bland foods. Things you just never bought. A few fruits and vegetables. . .
And a shit ton of vitamins.
“A lot of plain Jane stuff on there, I know. And vitamins, vitamins, vitamins,” she acknowledged. “But 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 – which I attached to the top of that sheet – if you have any issues.”
She then passed one more sheet over to you and added one more piece of information. “This sheet will include the Hemoglobin Kit I’ve 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 cells–a protein– that we need to see at normal levels. I’ve 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,” she said, her voice seeming to drone on and on in your ears. “And again, call if you have any questions or concerns.”
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.
I’ll have to take them to Gia. She’ll help me sort through them, you reassured yourself, taking a deep breath in and out to calm the nerves.
“And the morning sickness should. . . pass sooner rather than later?” Josh’s question broke through your reverie. Your eyes shut to refocus on the present moment and not the papers.
“It should, yes. For most women, it does,” the graying doctor confirmed. “You’re. . .how far along? I’d estimate about eleven, maybe twelve weeks?”
“Yes,” you nodded. “Twelve weeks according to my OB.”
“Yep. You should only have a few weeks – or less – 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.”
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.
To put it plainly, tonight’s 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. “There goes that heart rate again,” 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. “That’s another thing I want to address,” she hummed, sitting next to your legs, facing you and Josh from her seat. “Have you been under a lot of stress lately? A major change? Besides the baby? Mentally, perhaps? Emotionally?” She questioned. “Because 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 I’d 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.”
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 you’d already bared your heart to Gia and opened up every single gate possible to effectively begin therapy.
“I wanted to do it. Still do," you explained, needing Dr. Stevens to know that. “I would do it all over again right now if I needed to. She’s already helped me so much – after only one session, just with me basically projectile vomiting my past and emotions all over the room.” You took a breath, before finishing. “It doesn’t 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 process–I trust my therapist. But it was extremely taxing – on top of everything else I’m feeling right now.” You glanced over at Josh before adding, “The baby’s father is. . . he’s just. . .”
“A lot,” Josh finished with a half-chuckle. “He’s a very good guy. He’s just a lot.”
“I have a lot of feelings about everything happening in my life right now, I’ll just say that,” you ventured to tell her. “And I had somewhat of a handle on my anxiety and depression before I got pregnant, but it’s 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 I’m putting myself under.”
Josh scooted his chair over closer to you and wrapped one of your hands in two of his, holding on tightly.
“It hasn’t all really clicked until now. . . that all of it might be related to my. . . issues,” you confirmed aloud, peeking over at Josh just briefly before looking back to Dr. Stevens. You’d just spilled your entire heart and it was making you feel extremely uneasy. God, she hadn’t asked to hear all of that. “I’m so sorry about spilling all of whatever that was,” 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. “I really–god, fuck. I’m– that was a lot for you to hear and you didn’t ask for the whole–.”
“I needed to hear it all,” she consoled you, tapping a comforting hand on the top bed sheet, rather than your leg. “It helps me assess the situation. . . and from what I’ve heard, it sounds like the most probable cause of you fainting tonight was due to the iron deficiency and your heart.” She assessed the numbers on the blinking monitor yet again. “It just hasn’t slowed much since you’ve been here, sweetie. Even with the medications we’ve given you to temporarily alleviate it, it’s still been sitting at around 120 beats per minute. And since you’ve been awake, it’s spiked enough to cause some concern to this doctor.”
As she expressed her concern again for your thrumming heart, (which you had noticed an increase in it’s pounding as of late) it began beating a little harder once again, causing an unpleasant tightness within your sternum. You winced.
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 you’d 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 couldn’t 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.
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. “Cough for me, sweetie,” she told you, her calm demeanor forcing you to come back from your momentary freak out. “Make it a big one.”
You found it to be an odd request, but you weren’t 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.
“Wh-what was that? Am I having a heart attack?” You felt silly asking her that. . .but you didn’t know any better, it may as well have been your body plummeting straight into a cardiac arrest.
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 hadn’t noticed yet) began squeezing you rather uncomfortably.
“You’re not having a heart attack, my dear. Not even close,” she reassured. Although, you still felt the worry present in the pit of your tummy that you were unknowingly clutching again. “I am no stranger to the intense effects of anxiety. I’ve 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 – for you and for the baby.”
You felt the air from Josh’s lungs release against your knuckles as he let out the breath he must’ve 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.
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.
“If you can remember, have you ever been rather sensitive to the heat? Maybe suffered from heat strokes during your youth?”
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 didn’t venture often.
But it did bring forth some hazy recollections of your days as a child, playing outside in the thick, dry summer heat. How you couldn’t stand to be out in it for very long without feeling. . . faint. And dizzy. So fucking dizzy.
A long since forgotten trait of yours that you never thought to pay any mind to.
“Um– yeah, actually. Now that I think about it, Summers were always a challenge. I couldn’t stand being outside for much longer than a few minutes some days without feeling like I could pass out or throw up,” you huffed a humorless laugh at the memories playing back in your head. Miserable times. “It was. . .fucking awful.”
You’d suddenly started to remember all the times you felt faint as a child. But it wasn’t 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 couldn’t remember.
“Okay,” Dr. Stevens continued, her hand now patting your shin as she seemed to pick up on the unease of remembering your past. “What 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 you’re seeing stars? Tunneled vision, maybe?”
“I mean, y-yeah,” you stuttered. “Sometimes. But it doesn't last for very long. Doesn’t everybody experience that, though?”
You had no clue where she was going with all of these questions— questions that she seemingly already knew the answers to. Of what it all meant, you weren’t sure. But you knew you needed her to cut to the chase soon before you began plummeting even further down the anxious path you’d started paving.
“What does it mean? Is this something I should be worried about?” You asked through newly developed tears you had no control over.
Your mind was running rampant with only one singular thought: the baby. What does this mean for the baby?
“You don’t need to worry, sweetie. This is actually a lot more common than you think.”
She stood up from the bed, unclipping one more piece of paper from the board she’d 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.
But before you could begin to worry about what was on it, she was explaining it to you.
“That sheet is going to inform you on the ins and outs of Postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome, most commonly referred to as POTs,” she seriously informed, her eyebrows dipping to show concern for your worries that you knew were painted all over your face.
“That’s a funny name,” Josh giggled, the breath from the laugh he’d let out fanned against your knuckles. “Like pots and pans. . . you know?”
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 couldn’t 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. “POTs,” she enunciated the name while flashing her eyes to Josh, “is nothing to be concerned with, but it is a valid heart condition that does require a bit more testing to confirm if it’s present or not. Just to be safe.”
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 wasn’t the worst possible condition, but it was still a fucking heart condition that you could possibly have. And with everything else that’d 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 there’s 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. “To put it plainly, your heart can’t 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.” She came close to your bedside again, “If you don’t mind, I am going to need to listen to your heart again.”
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.
“This, combined with your lack of eating that caused the extremely low iron levels could have developed from your pregnancy. Although, I’m willing to bet they’ve been present your entire life. Certain instances can trigger them. Stress, severe anxiety, or pregnancy. In your case, dear, I’d say it’s all of the above. A bit of a trifecta, you could say. The ingredients for the perfect, terrifying storm.”
“Jesus, mama," Josh breathed, his lips faintly brushed over your knuckles as he continued to hold your hand close to his face. “You have got to start taking care of yourself. I can’t stand to see you like this.”
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.
“What other testing needs to be done?” 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.
“There’s 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, it’s not safe to perform it while you're pregnant,” she explained. “So for now, I’m just going to send in for a heart monitor that will be delivered to your house in the next week or so. You’ll wear it for four weeks and that'll give us plenty of information in the meantime. I’m also going to refer you to one of the best cardiologists we have on staff here.”
A heart monitor? That sounded utterly terrifying to you.
“I am also going to insist that you keep track of your hemoglobin levels daily,” she continued. “You 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,” Stevens took a deep breath before going on. “Keep a daily journal to log your numbers. Just a notebook to track your blood pressure and hemoglobin levels. It’s vital that you do these things, y/n. Fainting like this can not be a normal occurrence. It’s not good for you or the baby.” When she spoke next, you felt your heart leap into your throat. “The lasting effects on you or the fetus could be life threatening if you’re not careful. . . could be terribly detrimental to the baby’s development—specifically his or her little body or brain development.”
Life threatening. Detrimental. Baby’s development. Little body or brain development.
You heard your heart rate go up on the monitor, but you weren’t 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.
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 overwhelming–staggering, really, and you weren’t prepared for any of it in the slightest.
But, then again, how would someone prepare? You felt as if you were living in a brand new body, much different from the one you’d 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.
“Relax, mama,” 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, “What do we need to do if her numbers aren’t. . . normal? What are some measures we can take to get them to where they need to be?”
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 ‘we’. . . it just warmed your heart completely.
“Lots of fluids,” she answered through a sincere smile. “And an increase in your salt intake to help your body maintain those fluids.” She handed you yet another sheet and sat back down next to you, looking you in the eye with a stern, motherly expression. “That 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. It’s essential that you incorporate healthy eating habits at this point in your pregnancy. After you’ve gotten your body accustomed to the bland foods on the other list I’ve supplied you, you need to start adding lots of iron heavy foods to your meals. Meats, leafy greens, rice. . . things of that nature.” She searched your eyes, hers kind and knowledgeable from years in the field. “Alright?”
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.
“We’ll make sure of that, doc,” Josh responded in your place, throwing a wink at you as he knew damn well how horrible your food aversions had been.
“M-my therapy,” you found your voice. “It’s going to be intense. It will cause my body stress.” Dr. Stevens looked at you quizzically before you went on, “It’s called EMDR therapy. Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing; although, I’m sure you’ve heard of it in your profession. I don’t know all of the logistics yet, but I know it’s not a conventional form of therapy. What do I do if I wish to continue that? Should I continue it?”
“It 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 you’ll be able to handle at any given time. Don’t let your mind go too far. If you have a good therapist, they’ll know the signs if you’ve had enough, though, don’t be afraid to tell them.”
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.
Dr. Stevens smiled, her clipboard once again tight in her grip before she stepped further to the curtained room you were shielded by. “Do you have any more questions?”
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. Wasn’t supposed to be the length of a standard visit.
You’d 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 hadn’t even noticed. . . . Cedars-Sinai.
Same hospital I’ll 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.
-🌼🌼🌼-
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, he’d 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.
Because it meant you were going home.
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.
Just as he’d tucked you in and was about to leave, you pulled on his hand and begged for him to stay. You really didn’t want to be alone for the night, mumbling as much to him.
So, like the perfect friend he was, he set up a pallet on the floor as you tossed him a pillow from your bed.
And to your solace, sleep found you as soon as your head hit the satin of your pillowcase.
-🌼🌼🌼-
November 14, 2022
Every Monday being your therapy day was honestly the perfect way to start your week. You’d 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 today’s) 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.
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.
You’d spent the first thirty minutes or so filling her in on telling Josh, your first prenatal exam (also showed her the sonogram pictures, which she’d 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 she’d really just let you have the floor and talk.
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, she’d looked at you seriously.
Pinned you with a stare, her eyes sparkling like emeralds as she thoughtfully assessed you.
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. “Y/n,” she began, peering at you openly through her circular, wire framed-lenses, “We 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.”
“No,” you shook your head, a small smile curled the corner of your lips to reassure her. “I want to do it. I believe it’s what will work best to get to the heart of things. Don’t you?”
“Yes,” she agreed, brow knitted. “I just don’t want you to feel any unnecessary stress during this vulnerable time in your life.”
“As long as you promise to help me wrap it all up with a good talk at the end of each appointment,” you suggested with hope evident in your tone. “To wrap it up as much as we can for me to make it through the week.”
She grinned. “I can do that,” she affirmed with one certain nod, her loose bun, full of her soft blonde hair bounced with the action. “Did the doctor recommend continuing it?”
“Yep. Said it shouldn’t be an issue if we manage to discuss it all at the end of each session,” you offered. “Doesn’t want me carrying around anything unresolved that could make my stress levels increase.”
“Well, that’s definitely doable,” 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. “So, if you do wish to continue with EMDR, I’ll go ahead and explain it a little better than I have yet.”
“I do,” you said as a final agreement. “What should I know before we start?”
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.
Once she’d 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. “There’s something I feel I should mention before we begin. A bit of a warning that you should heed. Some clients experience this, some don’t. But something to be aware of, nonetheless.”
Your eyes widened at her use of the word ‘warning,’ 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 hadn’t let yourself delve into all of them just yet. You had tried your best to leave the ball in Gia’s court to explain it all to you.
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 Gia’s mouth.
Still yet, your heart beat just a little faster in preparation for whatever she had to tell you.
Deep breaths, y/n.
“Tell me,” 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. Gia’s got this. She won’t let you do anything too risky to your health. She wouldn’t let you.
“Some 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.”
This was the first you had seen her eyes downturned, a picture of worry painted within her emerald green irises. “There have also been accounts of severe nightmares—well, 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, you’ll call me. I don’t care if it’s in the middle of the night or the middle of the day, you have to call me, and I will answer.”
Middle of the day? They could come then, too? Shit.
“Is it. . . really that serious?” You took a moment to ponder your question, not entirely sure what to make of it all just yet. (And you couldn’t help but wonder if Jake found out about these little occurrences during his research before bringing the idea up to you.)
“It can be,” she noted with a stern tone that sent yet another wave of anxiety through your tense muscles. “That’s why I need you to make me that promise. That isn’t something you should ever experience alone. As I said, it can be debilitating.”
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 didn’t? 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 couldn’t 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.
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.
“I’ll admit,” you began, still holding tight to your belly, reminding yourself of the growing reason why you needed to do this. “I’m nervous. But I still want to do it. I promise I’ll call you when— if— that happens. . . but, what if you’re not available?”
“Don’t be nervous. You’ve got this.” She flashed you her sparkling white teeth in a smile that put your spirit right back at ease. “And I do my best to answer. It’s my job as your therapist to see you through this. Some don’t take it as seriously as I do, but I know that you’ll need me in your corner and I’m happy to be there. I signed up for this, just like you did,” she grinned, once again using her feet to scoot her back to her desk, in her plush, light pink chair. “But, on the off chance I’m 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.” She opened her laptop before turning to you, an idea seeming to spark in her mind. “As a matter of fact, before our next session, why don’t you make it your assignment to think of the person you’ll go to in situations like that? Just one person for now and if you think of more, then double whammy.”
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 didn’t need until next session to think of your person.
Because as soon as she started talking about that person, you were back in the hallway of your grandparents’ home – 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.
Not Josh. Not even Elsie.
But Jake.
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. “Y/n? You okay, love?”
You looked up, finding her eyes waiting for yours. “Oh–oh, yeah,” you stretched your lips to make the best smile you could. “Just being an overachiever and already brainstorming my person to contact.”
She hummed, giving you a sneaky smirk. “Does it happen to be a certain roommate of yours?”
Eyes bugging, you were shocked that she’d guessed. But were you really? She sorta kinda (definitely) knew the depths of your heart. She'd probably known who you’d want to pick as soon as you'd known it.
Nodding sheepishly, you decided to ask, “Is that a bad idea?”
“I don’t believe so,” she assured. “From what you’ve told me about him, he seems like a pretty good guy and I think he’d be more than willing to help you if you needed him.”
“Really?”
“Really. It’s also super convenient because he lives with you,” she insisted with a final wink before she said, “Anything I might’ve forgotten will be in the PowerPoint I’m about to send to your email. But, I’ve gotta say, I’ve done it enough times with enough clients, I think I’ve covered every base for today.” A few beats of silence passed before she triumphantly pressed a button. “Aaand, sent!”
Then, wheeling back over to you, her pristinely white Nikes made the smallest squeak on the stained concrete floor of her office. “Okay, so today,” she began. “How are we feeling?”
“Really good,” you confidently responded, wiping your palms against your leggings before a true smile fit to your features. “When will we start?”
“I think next session we will find your safe place,” she said with a raise of her brow. “I will explain what I mean by ‘safe place’ next time, and directly after, we will send you there. Try not to worry about it until then, okay?” She requested, eyes searching yours for an answer. To which, you nodded. She continued with a grin. “For today, I want to call it quits with the EMDR talk. . . Let you rest. Unless. . . you have any questions, of course. . . .”
You wracked your brain, and when you couldn’t think of anything immediately, you told her you didn’t have any questions.
“Come with some next time if you think of any. And, my email is always open in between visits if needed–even if it’s just a minor inquiry you have,” she reminded. “Oh! And I’m 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.”
“Got it.”
Although, something did come to your mind as you were both standing to leave the session. You hadn’t 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 you’d asked Josh.
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.
But, you were curious what her opinion was on the matter, now that it had resurfaced.
Right before she opened the door, delicate hand on the handle, you grew sweaty. But you needed to ask the question, because if you didn’t do it now, it would be tormenting you until next Monday.
So, you asked her the same question you’d asked Josh.
“When should I tell Jake about the baby?”
She turned her shoulder, her eyes stern when she responded. “Soon. . . sooner rather than later. Just focus on what is real.”
Sooner rather than later. . . same exact words Josh had said.
-🌼🌼🌼-
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.
When you got home, all you’d wanted to do was take a nap to sleep off the exhaustion from the short day. Before pregnancy, you wouldn’t 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.
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 weren’t 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 wasn’t supposed to be home for a few hours, you still didn’t want to risk him seeing you. The idea of him seeing any slight changes on your body made you cringe. You weren’t sure if you felt comfortable in your body yet, so you definitely didn’t want him seeing it.
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. He’d 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.
He’d know. . . you just had a feeling.
After a day of trying to wear regular jeans, you’d 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, there’d been a lull in customers before the end of your shift, and the oversized sweater you’d worn had provided enough coverage for you to unbutton the jeans when you were alone in the store.
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.
After you’d 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., you’d become more conscientious of how it was growing.
You were new to this pregnancy thing. You didn’t know if it meant your baby was okay or not if your belly wasn’t growing at a certain rate.
To your utter relief, over the past few days, you had finally been able to eat more–following 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 you’d actually found much more delicious and helpful to your twisty stomach than Sprite).
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 you’d pinned the sonogram pictures.)
Once you’d let the quick shower relax your muscles exactly like you’d needed, you took your time drying off. And once you’d washed your face and changed into bike shorts and a giant t-shirt, you weren’t so tired as before. So, you’d 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.
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.
Though, when you opened your TikTok app, you didn’t look into the book. No, instead, you found your fingers searching ‘13 weeks pregnant’. You wanted to see how other women looked at this point in the game. You couldn’t help wanting to compare your progression to other women. It wasn’t a healthy course of action – 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 you’d 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 you’d been tracking your hemoglobin for the past few days. It was all very comforting–-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.)
Though, you couldn’t 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 he’d looked on the night of the macaroni and cheese and therapy talk.
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 didn’t immediately go to his room. He went about opening a drawer, finding a pair of scissors and heading to the mail on the counter.
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.
“Whatcha got there?” 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. “New guitar part I ordered.”
“Oh,” you blinked, not sure what else you’d been expecting from him. Of course he wasn’t about to make pleasant conversation. Not when something had apparently climbed up his ass where you were concerned for the past several days.
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 didn’t want to let go of the possibility yet. Not yet.
“Have fun with that,” you offered, turning back around to the book you most definitely didn’t want to read at the present time. Instead, you took a nervous bite of a pepper.
“Um, y/n,” he said your name with a question in his tone. “What the fuck is this?”
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.
He was holding the box containing your heart monitor in his hands.
Fuck. You really didn’t want him to be privy to that part of your life. For whatever ridiculous reason, you were embarrassed by it.
Deciding honesty was the best policy, you decided to just flat out tell him. “I went to the Emergency Room the other night,” you started. “And the doctor just wanted –.”
“The Emergency Room?!” His voice raised a decibel, obviously alarmed at the new information. “Wait . . . is that why Josh had to leave the bar–? The same night you were gone all night.”
“Wait. . .how do you know I was gone all night?”
“I live with you, y/n,” he scoffed, talking to you like you were an idiot.
You felt your blood pressure rise, your heart beating in your ears. “Yes, Jake, I know this,” you matched his tone, the hormones working in your favor this time–making you angry rather than sad. “But why the fuck were you awake?”
“I was waiting for–,” he stopped, clearing his throat before starting over. He looked down, a crinkle in his brow. “I couldn’t sleep.”
He was waiting for. . . who? Waiting for. . . what? Your curiosity peaked, but you ignored it for the time being.
“Well, not that you need to know, but yes. I was at the E.R. that night,” you explained. “Something happened that landed me there and it resulted in them wanting to track my heart activity. Nothing huge.”
And for once, you didn’t feel bad for lying to him. Your nerves were lit on fire with irritation towards him.
He doesn’t need to know.
“You got a heart monitor in the mail,” 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.
“It’s. not. your. business, Jacob,” you squeezed the package until the plastic wrap squeaked from the tight grip of your fingertips. Then, something else clicked. “Why 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.”
“I just wasn’t thinking–.”
“Kind of fucking invasive, Jake,” you interrupted hotly. “Don’t you think?”
“Well, it helped me to know something was wrong with your heart. You wouldn’t have told me if I hadn’t opened the package,” he argued back.
“You didn’t need to know!” You said, your voice raising at the same speed as your blood pressure. “Still don’t!”
“But Josh sure as hell does, right?” He demanded, swinging his finger towards the door, his jaw clenching. “He needed to be your knight in shining fucking armor, huh?”
“Why the hell do you care?!” 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.
“I don’t!” He snapped, his beautiful, brown eyes, hard. His jaw, set and tight.
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 didn’t let yourself stand there much longer – 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.
Somehow, you were able to get the door open with your hands inexplicably full, and after you’d entered and before you could shut it behind you, you shot a glare his way. He was still watching you.
“Fuck you, Jake.”
-🌼🌼🌼-
November 17, 2022
The next night saw your ass in the shower again.
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.
You’d 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, you’d invited Josh over for a movie when Jake left to give lessons for the day. And, of course, he’d said yes without question.
You’d spent the day drowning yourself in popcorn and Canada Dry (Josh surprised you with a new 12-pack when he’d arrived) as you’d watched all three Bridget Jones movies. Back to back to back. They weren’t Josh’s favorites, but he humored you by trying to indulge in the trilogy – even managing to laugh at the funny parts.
Between movies, he’d let you cry on his shoulder. Or, intermittently, during the movies. . . By the time he’d left, your tears had positively stained the white long sleeve tee he was wearing.
He didn’t ever ask what it was about – who it was about. And you never told him. But you knew he wasn’t oblivious to who caused your emotional episode.
Now he was gone. Had been for about an hour. And Jake wasn’t home yet. Not that you fucking cared.
You’d meant it when you told him what you did. Fuck him.
Though, the devastating matter was that you couldn’t 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 you’d thrown at him.
But what was with the back and forth? Hot and cold? How he’d been okay the night with the mac and cheese? How he’d spent his time researching therapy for you to try? How he’d been quick to defend your song to his girlfriend?
And, just as quickly, he was snapping at you. Getting upset out of nowhere. Instantly angry with you when you’d 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 didn’t care about you.
Was that true? Did he not? It fucking killed you if it was true. But you couldn’t blame him if he didn’t 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.
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. “I’m so sorry that your mommy and daddy are so fucked up.”
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 they’d fallen asleep, but you still managed. Regretfully, you’d turned the water off. You didn’t 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 monitor’s adhesive to your chest like the instruction manual (and multiple videos you’d watched) told you to, and followed it with the monitor itself. You then checked to make sure the phone you’d been given with the kit was ready to track what it needed.
Finding your phone on the counter after you’d 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 you’d just rocked his motherfucking world . . . and he’d been so cool about it.
God, you just loved him.
You, 10:17 p.m.: I’m so glad I have you. I mean it from the bottom of my heart that I wouldn’t make it through this pregnancy without you. And your love and amazing fucking support. I’d be lost without you.
And after you sent it, you began towel drying your hair, then brushed through any tangles the best you could.
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.
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.
You glanced up to see if he was in fact home, and the sight that met you had you stop in your tracks.
Josh’s white phone case with the little triangle symbol he’d drawn on it one day at the B&G.
In Jake’s hands.
Jake’s 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 he’d seen. Fuck.
“You’re pregnant?”
You took a careful step forward, the blood in your veins frazzled and vibrating. Deny deny deny. As long as you can, y/n. “What gives you the right to be in Josh’s phone? Your invasiveness really knows no fucking bounds these days,” 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. “Really? That’s what we’re going to focus on right no–?” He shook his head, clicking the phone shut before taking a few cautious steps towards you. “His face I.D.; it opens to me. I’m his fucking identical twin.”
“Prove it,” you challenged.
“Was already planning on it,” 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. “Proven.”
“Well. . .,” you faltered, scrambling. “Why did you have it?”
“It was laying on the counter. I went to grab it and my keys,” he jingled the keys in his other hand. “I was going to take it to him,” he explained, sounding exasperated and patient all at once. An anomaly. “But when I picked it up, I looked down, and it opened.”
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.
“Now,” he started slowly. “Will you answer my question, please?”
His voice broke on the last word and it triggered a single tear to trickle down your cheek.
“Yes, I am.”
“Whose?”
“Really, Jake?” You questioned, the question making your heart break. How could he–?
His eyes went soft momentarily, pleading with you. “I just need to hear you say it, y/n.”
“It’s yours, Jake. The baby is yours. Who the fuck else?”
-🌼🌼🌼-
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 wouldn’t let me tag some of y’all. :( so please check to see that you’re down there because if you’ve asked to be on the taglist, i tried to tag you. buuuut tumblr wouldn’t let me do it for everyone 🙃 ugh. and if i somehow forgot to tag someone, please also let me know that! (i'm a NOOB and i have terrible memory)
a/n: ouch ouch ouch 😭 part 9 is a rollercoaster. . . that is all i'll say for now as i leave you with this little peek.
easy listening i'd recommend for this sneak peek: "Please Don't Go" by Stevie Wonder and our very special song. . . "You're All I Need To Get By" by Ms. Aretha Franklin <3
-🌼🌼🌼-
When you got back out, you were instantly met with the sight of all of the guys at the back booth you’d saved.
Your eyes, sadly, found Jake and Maya first – 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.
But with the way Jake’s hand toyed with the hair over her shoulder and eventually traveled to squeeze (and hold) her waist. . . you knew why she wasn’t 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.
Pushing any emotion down that threatened to boil up to the surface, you kept on walking to the booth.
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.
Then, Sam was loudly exclaiming your presence, telling you that he was waiting for his own hug.
You went around the three brothers who wanted to give you a squeeze.
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 determined that it was his turn.
After he’d grasped you from Sam and given a loose hug, you stood awkwardly. Waiting. But for what?
But. . .you knew what. . .Why.
It was Jake’s turn.
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.
You reciprocated with essentially the same response, your stomach falling to your feet as you did so. It was ludicrous to think he’d get up for a hug, too. Especially with Maya sitting next to him with her perfectly-fucking- manicured hand cupping the inside of his thigh.
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 that’d been so accustomed to yours.
And, then there was an incredibly intrusive thought.
It told you that, for some (strange) reason, the idea of his chest pressing into your sore breasts sounded extremely appealing. (And the thought of his hands or his mouth on them? Fuck.)
But— you knew at this point, there was a fat chance of that ever happening.
He didn’t 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 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.
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 hilarious conversation.
He didn’t give two shits about you that way anymore.
Why would he?
The terrible things you’d said to him in the kitchen were the first reason that came to your mind. Haunted you everyday, reminding you that you didn’t deserve his attention.
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.
But what the two lovebirds didn’t know was that you were carrying a part of him within you that she couldn’t do a thing about.
No matter what she was to him, she didn’t have what you did.
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.
Fuck. That felt selfish. Without even thinking about it, you brought your hand up to your stomach as an effort to apologize to the little lemon-sized baby in your tummy.
You are enough for me, you desperately thought, hoping to translate that somehow to your unborn bundle of hope. You give me plenty of joy.
“Y/n,” Josh spoke, breaking you from your reverie.
“Mmm?” You hummed, now staring into the space on the wall behind Maya’s head.
Then he was leaning over, whispering so quietly in your ear. “You’re holding your stomach.”
Shit. You instantly dropped your hand, looking around to make sure no one had noticed.
Thankfully, no one had.
You mouthed a ‘thank you’ to your best friend, and scooted into the space he and Daniel had left for you, between them, on their side.
Sitting again helped to balance you, as the dizziness from earlier kept coming back in tiny spurts.
You didn’t know what it was all about, but you knew it was probably something attributed to pregnancy. It was probably something normal that you didn’t need to be worried about.
But, you figured having someone to lean on would help to keep you steady. So, you found Josh’s 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.
-🌼🌼🌼-
About an hour later, you found yourself humming along to the music that had gotten progressively louder over the time you’d been sitting with the guys. Getting lost in the melodies felt nice. And you’d noticed, walking in that night, that it was soul music night, according to the sign on the front door of the bar.
Perfection.
After sitting with them for only a few minutes, making small talk with Sam and Danny to catch up, you’d essentially let yourself become an observer. You’d just listened to them talk about all of these new, sudden opportunities that were coming around for them.
So much was changing.
They were essentially done with the smaller gigs. Their label’s 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. They’d even begun advertising the boys with promotional pictures and posters all over active streets in Brooklyn.
“We’ve had photoshoots, y/n,” Sam had boasted in wonder at one point, making sure to involve you in the conversation. “Photoshoots! Like, real rockstar things.”
“‘S fucking nuts,” Danny agreed, nodding beside you, sending you a small smile. “People working on wardrobe for us and all that shit.”
They’d 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 couldn’t imagine how it felt for them.
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 album’s release. Because of all of your recent . . .changes, it just felt like a terrible time for things to feel so unsure and abnormal.
You knew it was selfish to feel that way. You did. It was just impossible to not feel worried and anxious.
The stress inevitably started climbing up into your upper back, creating tension. And, Josh, being Josh, must’ve sensed a change in your demeanor. He’d wrapped his arm around your shoulders when you started feeling all bunched up and jittery. You’d leaned into it, needing the incredible amount of comfort in his embrace and presence.
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 Jake’s guest.
Who sat there looking so beautiful all night. Jake’s arm hadn’t left her shoulders all night, twirling her long waves between his long fingers. You had to look away at several points. It didn’t take long for the sight to become too much. Your ever-present nausea only increased by watching them.
So you didn’t watch. Didn’t 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.
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.
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 months’ time — once the label execs heard a few songs, and released them as singles. Then, they would get to preview them to the public.
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 label’s attempt to get an idea of touring being a possibility.
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.
“I have faith that they’ll love us,” Sammy said, buzzing with excitement. “I’m speaking that shit into existence.”
The rest of the guys agreed.
Your eyes inadvertently snapped to Jake when he spoke next.
“And once we start touring. . .,” Jake said, grin huge and his eyes shining at the other guys. “That’s when it all becomes fucking real. And it’ll be here before we even know it.”
Your stomach fell.
Josh squeezed your knee after he’d said it, knowing exactly what you were thinking.
Your thoughts were fucking spiraling. Looking down, you closed your eyes to will the tears away— tried your best to be subtle with your bundled up emotions.
You felt so excited for him. You wanted it for them—for him. All along, you’d wanted him to live his dream. The one he’d 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 knots—the idea of Jake being a dad, but not getting to be one. Leaving you. Leaving the baby. It wouldn’t be a bad thing, per se, but it was going to hurt like hell.
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 he’d want to abandon it for you) — it was the last thing you wanted. The last thing that would happen.
He would live the dream. Even if you had to force him to do so.
No matter how badly you already knew you’d 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.
But. . . Jake.
You shoved the thoughts down to the tresses of hell, literally planting your feet straight on the floor to center yourself to present time. Shifting a bit, you laid your head on Josh’s shoulder, letting your eyes drift closed after a while.
Didn’t sleep, but you felt like you could have. Your body felt loose and weak from the night’s stress slowly leaving your body as you focused on Josh’s steady breathing and the music.
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.
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.
But, even with your eyes open, they were hooded. You were so tired, you felt as though you couldn’t open them much more. And the dizziness from earlier was back.
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. He’d sneak the occasional smile to give a sign of him remaining loyal to your company as well as the others’.
The melodious harmonies of Stevie Wonder’s "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.
Oh, Stevie. His songs had historically been known to bring you peace. Always had. Always would.
And 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 you’d 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 you’d 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.
You knew it instantly. You’d hear this song even if it weren’t blasting throughout the building.
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.
You hadn’t looked at him yet, but you felt Jake’s eyes piercing through you.
You didn’t want to look at him. Not yet.
Your hormones had been far too out of whack for that. You knew you’d cry instantly upon seeing his face while this song played at a volume that you now wish was much, much lower.
Aretha’s powerhouse voice repeated it over and over again.
You’re all I need to get by, you’re all I need to get by, you’re all I need. . .
No, you weren’t looking at Jake. But he was still the only vision clouding your minds eye.
You were back in your living room floor. . . his eyebrows bunched together with each heavy thrust into you, the sweat that pooled between them and dripped down to the tip of his nose.
And it was plain to see that you were my destiny. . .
His coffee colored orbs that bore into you as his body connected with yours in the most intimate way that it could’ve been.
And when I lose my will, you’ll be there to push me up that hill. . .
How he filled you so completely, so perfectly. How, in that moment, it felt like he was made to fit you. Your body, your heart, your life.
I don’t know what’s in store, but together we can open any door. . .
Without even meaning to, your eyes met his.
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.
If you were delusional, you’d even go so far as to say he was admiring you. . . The way his eyes flashed a bit as you watched him, too.
But you weren’t delusional.
Though, you just knew that he was thinking the same thing as you. . .
He knew. He knew this song was special.
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.
You looked back up, sniffing once and shaking your head.
Why did I have to fucking look?
“God, I wish they’d play music from this century here for once. Or at least something halfway decent,” Maya snickered, her attention on Jake, pulling his gaze away from you with her ignorant remark. “This song could put me straight to sleep. Music like this is meant to be left in the past where it belongs.”
What the hell? What was even the point?
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 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 Josh’s face, and you knew he wouldn’t take her shit laying down. Not when it came to good, classic music. Not to mention, Aretha was one of his biggest vocal inspirations.
“How 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.”
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.
Didn’t trust your emotions to stay steady enough to get your point across.
This was personal.
To your shock, it was Jake that ended up breaking the awkward silence at the table. “You know, babe, some of us have some pretty significant memories tied back to music like this,” he asserted, sharply, pulling away from her, dropping his arm from her shoulders to look at her better. “This song specifically. . . At least for me.”
Your heart leapt into your throat at what he was implying. Significant? He couldn’t mean. . .? But then he flashed his eyes to you. And you knew.
Fuck, Jake. The butterflies let completely loose in your tummy at the implication. At the look.
He continued, his voice growing softer, while staying assertive. “And it could very possibly be hurtful to others when you say surface level shit like that.”
-🌼🌼🌼-
a/n: i love them and i love you guys and we will get through the pain together 😭 but i mean. . . . . can we talk about how Jake is pulling at my mf heartstrings with his little defense of the song?! ughhhh jakey babyyyyy </3
Tagging my taglist to give y’all hope that more is coming soon lol 🫶🏻
Covet besties, I’m sharing a sc of the word count so you know that the reason you’re having to wait a few extra hours… as always, my ass won’t shut up until all important details are included for pt 1, but it’s for good reason
Anywayssss, it’ll be yours very, very soon and get ready for a lot of important stuff and a helluva lot of words <3 (as always, sorry for the excessive amount, but you know me lmao)
(And yes, it opens w a Reader dream….. can you guess what she’s dreaming about 🤭💤)
Unfortunately, my best friend who I planned to take with me to the D.C. (9/11) show bailed kind of last minute. After sitting on it for a week, I don’t really have any gresties locally that can go with me. I still have two seat tickets listed, and now I currently have an extra GA ticket up for sale.
If anyone is interested in purchasing it, please send me a DM. There’s no pressure to go with me, so I’m offering it up to anyone that’s scouring for a decently priced one.
Series Summary: A new demon has come to Nashville. Josh and Jake's ways of life have been thrown off by her arrival. The angel and demon have lived with an understanding of one another, but with Y/N stirring up trouble and asking questions, they're forced to work out a new normal. And why is she so powerful for a human turned demon anyway, that's unusual, right?
A/N: Hiiiii! Part 3 is here. Keep adding yourself to the taglist or catch up on the rest of the parts from the masterpost. I think this story is looking like maybe 6 parts...we'll see. oh boy lots of plot in this lol enjoy hopefully and lmk what you think :)
Chapter Summary: Two demons walk into a bar and an angel greets them. What on Earth could they be talking about? There's actually no good punchline to this.
Word Count: 4.0 k | Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption, horny demons and angel, 18+ maybe some brief descriptions/mentions of sex - still no explicit smut (next chapter tho...), dubious understanding of demonology in reality
Taglist | Series Masterpost
Part 3: I Think There's Something You Should Know
The wind rustling her drapes woke her up in the middle of one evening when she hadn’t gone out or seen anyone beside Rori all day. It had been a good day.
The moon was almost full and was one of two lights illuminating the street below the window behind her bed. She didn’t have to sleep anymore, but she still liked to. She stared out hazily for a moment and hurriedly closed the window, feeling a human sense of nerves and dread before calming down, remembering that the things that went bump in the night were now scared of her.
Jake had been teaching her ways to skirt Hell’s system. How to get the job done without doing much. Which she was thankful for. And she’d finally run into Josh briefly a few times, but not as many as she’d like. Not for as long as she’d like. She knew he was keeping his distance. ‘Avoiding temptation.’ That’s what Jake always said when she asked after Josh.
Tonight, she was annoyed the wind had woken her. Her dream had been extra sweet tonight. Josh had sought her out, giving her sweet gifts and feather kisses all with the backdrop of the Sunset Strip. The warm sheets were kind of like his warm chest beneath his clothes.
The next night, the night of the true full moon, Jake was at her door. He knocked when the moon had reached its peak for the evening.
Jake had also kept his distance in the way that mattered since that first night together. He had deemed it a moment of drunken vulnerable weakness not to be repeated. It only happened because she’d whispered his favorite fucking poem in his ear—how weak was he? Practically human in that moment. He didn’t bring it up and she felt the heaviness of his silence when she had joked about the hook up the next time she’d seen him. He was to be her mentor only.
Leaning against the doorframe, an arm on his hip and his wide-brimmed hat on his head, he spoke lowly. “Come out with me.”
She can’t see his eyes, just his lips and jaw moving.
“I’m not at your beck and call,” She rolled her eyes, a defiant crossed arm look staring back at him. A black tank top and sleep shorts sat low on her hips, she was happy to get wine drunk in her home now that she knew she didn’t need to go out all the time.
He leveled his head with her, making eye contact now. “Come.”
“I’m not a dog.” She remained unmoved. Rori slinked around her legs, sniffing at Jake unamusedly. The actual dog had had to warm up to Jake these last few weeks and Rori was begrudgingly okay with him since he could feel the power the demon exuded.
Jake rolled his eyes and greeted the dog. “Don’t growl at me. I didn’t even bring my familiar…”
Rori had not been a fan of Jake’s crow that he kept around. Y/N wouldn’t even deem it a familiar since he was really only around so Jake could shapeshift into a bird if he really wanted but Jake insisted they were close. Sure.
After a minute of heavy silence, Jake got the final word. The stare down not really going anywhere. He flashed his yellow eyes and she hated how it made her fall in line. Jake’s true nature was malevolent despite his serene facade he often operated under. She didn’t want to ever see him truly angry with her. She’d seen glimpses of it during some of their outings together. It wasn’t anything like the man she had seen inside his mind.
“I’m your mentor. Be a good mentee. Go get dressed.”
She got dressed, grumbling the whole time to Rori and forcing Jake to wait outside as she blasted Fleetwood Mac—for some reason, Jake’s least favorite band from her time. He rolled his eyes as he heard Stevie Nicks’ voice turned up to a fever-pitch.
“Jake.” Y/N sniffed as she pushed past him out of her door. “Altar boy name, by the way.”
He chuckled under his breath and shook his head, falling in step with her and locking her door with a flick of his hand when he noticed she had forgotten.
When they arrived at this unfamiliar almost empty room that Jake refused to give her information on, her eyes cast around taking it all in with a vigilance she’d never applied as a human. Now she liked to know her exits, note any potential men who might try and cause her trouble, potential targets, etc.
It was an old dark and gloomy bar, lined with wood that had been worn down by glasses and hands over many years. It seemed it had been loved once, now a shell of its former self. Maybe 10 people in total in the entire tired place.
A bright light cast in the corner that caught her eye after a moment. Josh. He was perched on a chair at a four-top, patiently tapping his fingers along the table, nodding his head to the live music from a lone guitarist.
He glowed like anything but no one else seemed to notice. Maybe it was just for her. She thought about asking Jake if he could see the glow. His bright white long sleeve tonight fell over him, perfectly fitted and pushed up to his elbows. The same blue jeans on his legs that she dreamed about feeling beneath her thighs every other night or so.
She wet her lips, watching his angelic face, eyes shut nodding to the melodies. His lips slightly parted and she missed them. How soft and sweet they’d been when she’d licked into his mouth, giving him the show of his life. Forget that. She needed to be cool. She straightened her posture, looking like a killer about to pounce on her prey.
Jake cleared his throat, watching Sal watching Josh, looking jealous that she looked at his brother with more desire than she did with himself. Not that he actually cared. She was his mentee.
She rolled her eyes at him and followed him over to the table.
“Brother,” Jake spoke first, hands leaving his pockets to grip the back of one of the chairs.
Josh smiled, standing, and touched his brother gently on the shoulder, “Jake.”
Then a silence fell between the three of them. Who was going to be the first to acknowledge her? She stood exactly between the angel and the demon and she wished that Hell’s mouth would open up beneath her feet and swallow her whole. Rori could stay on Earth if he wanted, she didn’t even care so long as whatever the tension was passing between them stopped right this instant.
She widened her eyes and opened her mouth to greet Josh before losing her nerve. “I’m gonna go get a drink!”
“You don’t have to do–” Jake starts, but she’s already disappeared in a flash of crimson and black.
Jake raised his brows at Josh while blush crept up the angel’s face and ears, the two men sat. Y/N knocked back two shots on her own at the bar while waiting for three beers. She didn’t know what they wanted and she didn’t care. Beer would have to do.
“So,” She drawled, attempting a more cool and collected approach now that she was back. Afterall, she was a demon who was meant to thrive in situations with sexual partners. She knew how to be cool around people she was attracted to–except, what didn’t come easy to her was behaving normally around someone she actually might potentially teensy weensy care about. She didn’t even want to think that it might be two someones. Especially when her heart was supposedly dead.
She huffs a slick smile onto her lips, slinking into her chair evilly placed between them with the beers. “What are we all doing here? A Celestial+ Committee meeting? Immortals anonymous…bit of a problem, though,” She leans forward and whispers. “I think we all know each other?”
“Sal,” Josh starts, his tone measured. He was trying to be kind, but she felt the tightness in his throat.
Jake flashed his eyes to the angel, a warning. He set his hat on the table, making it crowded with the three glasses.
She settled into the uncomfortable chair, widening her legs and taking a gulp of the beer. Her top might as well have been nonexistent, the deep red lace sheer and showing off her torso and breasts. The black tight vinyl pants caused both beings to flicker their eyes to her movement as she pushed her hips towards them. Josh cleared his throat and averted his eyes, taking a grounding sip of the pale ale she’d gotten for him.
“We’re here,” Jake starts, giving an unamused look to her as she wiggled her hips and smirked in triumph. “Cut it out, sometimes the slut schtick isn’t cute. We have something real to talk about, Sal.” He widened his glowing yellow eyes at her and she sat up, immediately shrinking again. Just as she was feeling more confident, his accusatory eyes scared the absolute shit out of her.
Josh shot a look at his demon counterpart, unhappy with the word he had just used, even if it was to describe the demon who had led him into temptation. He had been repenting for the last three months, bathing in holy water twice as often, and an extra time whenever his mind wandered to Y/N and what she’d shown him.
“We need to find out why you’re so powerful. Who you are.” Josh says calmly.
“I told you already.” She insisted. “Why does it matter anyway?”
“Okay, well maybe you don’t realize this but the way you’re treated down in Hell is not normal,” Jake sneers condescendingly.
“What he means,” Josh intervenes again. “Is that, perhaps, you don’t know who you really are either. We’re worried…”
“No!” She immediately shoots forward, eyes blazing with hellfire.
“C’mon Sal, you know how fucking powerful you are. That’s not normal! You’re not normal!” Jake doesn’t sound smug anymore, he sounds a little…scared. He didn’t like not knowing.
Josh reaches a hand out to Jake’s shoulder, his touch somehow calming even though an angel’s touch should’ve been repulsive to a demon.
“Listen, Sal,” Josh smiles, trying to bring peace to this strange situation. “Nothing is going to change. It’s okay to be scared, but Jake is right. You are far too powerful for even a run-of-the-mill average demon and you believe you were a human turned demon. You’d have even less powers then.”
She gulps at her beer, more than half-way through it. “Why does it matter? Why do you two care?”
Another silence falls between them. The tension returns and she can tell there’s something they’re not telling her.
“Fucking tell me,” She spits. “Or I’ll…I’ll, fucking…I don’t know, I’ll fucking kill everyone in here. Since I’m so fucking powerful.”
“There’s not that many people in here, Sal. You wouldn’t really be making much of a point…” Jake shrugs. “Also, why would I care?”
“Because I know you, Jacob,” She seethes, staring darkly into his eyes. Her eyes had been black since the hellfire had left them, she was in defense mode. “Should I share with Josh what I found in your mind the other night?”
Jake sat up straight and instantly Y/N’s mouth was shut. Not by a look, but by Jake’s powers. It felt like he was crushing her windpipe. His voice was in her head. ‘Do not say another fucking word. How dare you. You promised.’ She immediately felt meek and her humanity seeped back into her. Regular eyes flickering back to life, she slumped in on herself, wrapping her arms around herself for comfort. She was scared too.
Josh watched the interaction, only seeing the physicality of their two bodies change. He looked up to the ceiling, lord give him strength and please don’t let anyone die tonight. “We think you might be a cambion.” He rushes it out before he loses the nerve or before Jake stops him.
She stays silent, staring up at the angel with red-rimmed eyes–not technically demonic, simply because she had begun to cry and she wasn’t allowing the tears to fall. Jake grunts unhappily and finishes off his beer, getting up to get a refill and pointedly telling them not to discuss further until he returned.
He came back five minutes later, silent and nodded his head gruffly for them to continue. She stares between the angel and demon again, confused and upset with both of them.
“What does that mean?” She asks, her voice soft and child-like, shaking slightly. Had her whole life been a lie? It couldn’t be possible. Why did they want to flip her life upside down or sideways or something? This second life was already confusing enough without an identity crisis.
“It means you were half-human, half-demon in your first life.” Josh speaks softly, barely strong enough to keep himself from pulling her fragile body into his own just to attempt to comfort her. He knew how scared she must be, he’d seen people crumble through history at the realization of their lives being built on lies. “Usually cambion are offspring of an incubus or a succubus and a human.”
“That would explain your special treatment in Hell,” Jake interjects, feeling more subdued after walking it off and two shots of ‘Jamo’ himself. “But it doesn’t explain the powers. At least, not fully. It’d have to be an ancient–older than us–and powerful one to have been one of your parents and that’s just almost unheard of, even 70 years ago.”
“Okay….” She tries to absorb the information, eyes still flitting between the two figures before her, feeling a weird sense of unreality that had never happened to her. Given all the weird shit that had happened to her since dying, it was surprising this was so hard.
“That’s why we wanted to talk to you about it. See if you knew anything or could think about anything abnormal about, maybe, your upbringing or parents.” Josh tries, even gently soothing his hand over the one Y/N had shakily rested on the tabletop. “Anything at all.”
Jake’s eyes watched them. The way her body relaxed at Josh’s touch. How her eyes sparkled as she looked from their touching skin to Josh’s face. Even her smile was softer with Josh. Josh’s eyes were aglow as well, an angelic white instead of a black pupil.
“Okay,” She says, looking between Jake and Josh again, feeling calmer but also, admittedly, terrified for the first time since she’d been back. “Can I think about it for a few days? I don’t think I’ll come up with anything with you two staring me down right now.”
She didn’t understand why it mattered to Jake and Josh still but the amount of energy and emotion running through her had made her forget momentarily. Her mind was like static, the thoughts running into one another and jumbling until nothing was coherent.
“Yeah, of course,” Josh moves his hand to rub over her back. He couldn’t help himself, he was a healer and a helper. Even with her. Especially with her. “Write things down as they come to you. It might help.”
“Whatever,” Jake rolled his eyes, downing his beer and heading for a third. He needed to be drunk and as a demon it took a lot more work. He thought that was unfair but there wasn’t really anyone he could complain to. Maybe the big one Upstairs, but his key card didn’t work anymore.
This night had gone about exactly as he expected when Josh had continued to pester him about it. When he returned, Josh had disappeared and Jake hoped he’d left for the night. “Can we get plastered now?”
“Please,” She sighed, taking the second beer from Jake’s hands. “I need to dance and drink off this stress. Fuck you for this by the way.”
“Did Josh leave?” Jake ignores her complaint about the night, looking around. It wasn’t like he’d wanted to be here either.
She shakes her head while gulping at the beer, already moving to the dance floor that was scuffed up and empty. The live musician had left during their conversation so Jake wasn’t surprised when the old stereo turned from 2000s indie rock to 1970s hard rock. “Said he was coming back. Bathroom or something…You gonna dance with me, cowboy?”
She grinned at Jake, already pushing the anxiety of the evening away, utilizing her favorite coping mechanism: drunken debauchery.
He shook his head at her and sauntered closer, abandoning his beer and allowing her arms to rope him closer, pressing her hips into his. He hummed with mild satisfaction, staring at her down the tip of his nose. She stared up at him, thinking back to when he had tumbled in the sheets with her. How surprisingly kind and tender he had been to her and how she’d never seen it again. She wanted to see it again. She’d do anything to see it again.
She ran her hand up and down his torso, taking inventory of his warmth with teasing fingers, “You owe me. That was worse than Hell on Earth.”
Jake leans his head down, lips heavy on her ear. “I don’t owe you shit, Sal.”
She threw her head back in laughter and Jake’s arms held her waist more firmly, just to keep her from falling. Returning upright to stare into his eyes, she spoke with a saddened sort of lust. “You love talking rough to me don’t you, Jake? Just admit it.”
“It’d be a big help if you could remember your real name while you’re writing down all your feelings later.” Jake ignores her again, allowing himself to drift his hands over the curves of her ass as she sways against him. He indulges in how the press of her breasts into his chest feels and the intoxicating scent of her perfume as he traces his nose up her throat and over her jaw.
She whines against him. “Just shut up and kiss me if you won’t fuck me right now. I need a distraction.”
Jake chuckles darkly, his eyes casting around the room as he tightens his grip again making her hum with a grin on her face. “You’d like that wouldn’t you, little one? In front of an audience? Sick little freak.”
She looks down for a moment, a flicker of shame at Jake’s condescending voice before she feels the energy seeping off of him. He desired it too. She wasn’t the only sick freak.
Jake makes eye contact with Josh at the edge of the dancefloor. The angel had been watching for the last few moments after returning from wherever he had disappeared to. He shifts his weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other.
Jake decides to lean down as Y/N leans up with parted lips, awaiting his touch. He teases her, licking his tongue out past his lips but not quite touching hers. She breathes out a whine and pulls his head closer by the back of his neck and he obliges, sinking his tongue into her mouth. She melts into him.
Josh watches on still. He can’t tear his eyes away, how their bodies snake around one another so perfectly. How she fits into him, how Jake has no problem claiming her body, touching her and alighting her skin with desire. Josh shuts his eyes for a moment. He wants to leave, he knows he should’ve walked out the door and not come back, but he can’t. She’s still here and he hasn’t seen her in so long. He knew it was a sin to be consorting with her, but, Jesus, he was already there, what was another hour or two of it?
She pulled back from Jake’s lips, chest heaving for air that Jake didn’t seem to need. He smirked and licked his lips, moving his hand away from the back of her delicate neck.
“C’mon, let’s go back to my place.” She tries. Her hand tightens in the collar of his shirt, needing this to make her forget her distress.
Jake shakes his head. “I’ll dance with you and I’ll kiss you till you drop, but we’re not doing that again. Never again.”
She twirled a piece of his hair that had come free from his low bun. “Why not? We had a lot of fun.”
“Too much fun.” He removes her hands from himself, beginning to step away. It wasn’t the fun he was worried about, it was the feeling. “I’ll see you soon, kid.”
“Fuck you, Jake.” Anger masks the painful stab to her heart, or whatever it was that felt inside her still, at his rejection. Kid.
“Keep dreaming,” He winks, turning on his heel and patting Josh’s chest as he goes to make his exit. “She’s all yours. Nice and fired up. Good fucking luck, brother.” He plucked his hat from the abandoned table, strutting out of the bar and disappearing instantly, as if he’d never been there in the first place. Except he had and she was pissed.
“Thanks,” Josh murmurs under his breath, eyes downcast. He stops Y/N from running after Jake with a hand around her waist when she went to move past him, knowing that whatever fight she tried to start wouldn’t end well.
“Hey, hey, hey,” He gets her attention, the fury fading from her eyes with one look at Josh. “It’s okay. You don’t want to fight him tonight. You’ve got a lot on your mind and it’ll only come to no good.”
“No good is what I’m supposed to do,” She stomps her foot, petulantly but resigning to Josh’s hold. The drunken debauchery wasn’t going well and she was starting to feel depleted and depressed. An identity crisis, one rejection and likely another on the horizon with the way Josh was looking at her.
She felt herself beginning to cry again. This time she couldn’t stop the tears.
“Oh, god,” Josh whispered quickly, ushering himself and the demon to the sidewalk outside of the bar. The darkness of the night would cover up the sight that would raise human eyebrows. “Hey, it’s okay. Don’t cry. Please.” His voice is soft, feathery and concerned. Pleading.
“What’s the point? Why’d they even send me here? Who am I?” She wailed, her eyes streaming tears of blood. “Why the fuck do I cry blood? This is so unfair!”
Josh wanted to curse Jake, but he knew he was already eternally damned so it really wouldn’t do anything. He shushed the crying demon who really just looked like a young drunk girl except for the red tears. Josh held her as she sobbed, blood staining his white shirt. It didn’t matter to him. He offered soothing words to her and eventually, after back rubs and deep breath exercises, she pulled it together.
“You can come see me whenever you need, Sal. How’s that?” Josh offers as he rubs soothing patterns across her clammy back.
She wiped at her face and her hair that was now all over the place. “Thanks, Josh. Thank you for being kind to me. Even though…I am who I am.”
“Of course,” Josh’s voice is full of emotion. He couldn’t help it. She needed him. “Take care. I’ll see you soon.”
She nodded and sniffed, holding her head high again, the bloody tracks on her face looking horrifying in the dark light but Josh tried for a hopeful smile. She waved and then she was gone, disappearing into the dark and empty night. Jake must have taught her his trick.
She’s not sure what made her decide what she did next. But she was a little drunk and confused and dejected and needy for attention. Rori was asleep on her hardwood floor when she walked in the door, dead to the world till the sun came up hours from now. So after 30 seconds in the empty silent apartment she turned back around, leaving again.
Author's Note: The long awaited sequel to Make Her Happy that literally no one asked for lol here's the first part
Content Warnings: dirty talk, penetrative sex (18+ minors do not interact), swearing
Word Count: 5.5k
Jake stood on the other side of the door with a grin plastered to his lips that you knew he hoped would make up for the fact that it was him rather than his brother.
It almost did.
It doesn't.
Almost.
"He could at least call me," you said angrily without so much as a 'hello' in his direction before you turned and let him meander through the door in your pursuit. This was an occurrence you were getting all too used to and formalities had been done away with long ago. You certainly weren't in the mood tonight.
"Maybe he was worried he'd feel the icy stare through the screen," he quipped from behind you, placing the bouquet of flowers in his hands that you hadn't even noticed on the counter as he followed you into the kitchen.
"He'd deserve it if he did."
You were beyond frustrated with him truthfully. Josh had sent Jake in his place several times since the first, although the first time had been the only time things had gone as far as they had. But you were beginning to feel like you were dating his twin. Not that he wasn't good to you when he came over. He just wasn't the one you wanted.
Well, maybe it was a bit more complicated than that.
"You want me to fight with you? Let you pretend I'm him?"
"He wouldn't fight with me," you sighed as you rummaged around in your kitchen cabinets looking for a container large enough to hold the full meal you had cooked. "He'd be understanding and sweet and make me feel heard and it would annoyingly take all of the fight right out of me."
"I'll be me then and fight back," he said with a wide smile that you didn't return as you moved to put dinner into the tupperware you had pulled out. But when he saw what you were doing, his brows furrowed and the smile disappeared. "Woah, what are you doing? It's still hot, we should eat it."
"I don't want to. I'm just going to order something," you answered flatly.
"I can do that." He took your wrists in his hands to stop your movements, even as you tried to pull them away. "Hey, wait, stop, I can do it. I'll put it away and do the dishes while the food is on its way. Just tell me what you're in the mood for."
It felt like a dam breaking as you let your face fall into his chest, his arms circling your body as tears began to flow.
"I just don't understand why he can't at least call or give me some kind of warning. He always does this, he does this more and more, and more and more I just feel like an accessory that sometimes he wants to wear and sometimes he doesn't."
"You're not an accessory to him, I promise you." He soothed you with a quiet voice and a hand snaking up into your hair to hold you against him. "He wanted to be here, he always does. It kills him that he's away so much but he really does love you."
"You're off, you have a break. Why are you here and he isn’t?"
"Well, I don't require nearly as much maintenance as that little diva," he answered with a laugh at his own joke. The joke didn't reach you though. It only seemed to solidify the feelings you'd been having more and more lately: Josh didn't have time for you.
"Come on," he jostled you from your thoughts before they could spiral, holding you away from him so he could meet your eyes. "You're hangry. Food will put things into perspective."
Food won't fix this.
Pizza does sound really good right now though.
You swiped tears away from your eyes with the back of your hand and sniffed back whatever waterfall needed desperately to fall.
"Pizza?" you asked quietly.
He smiled.
"Pizza it is. Go put your feet up; I've got this." He nodded toward the living room and with a sigh, you resigned to let him take care of things for the night. But before turning to head toward some actual relaxation, you met his eyes with gratefulness seeping into yours.
"Thank you."
"You can thank me later," he said with a smirk that had your stomach doing somersaults despite your internal reprimanding.
—
"Food's here."
Jake's voice woke you. Well, that and the smell of piping hot pizza. You hadn't realized you'd fallen asleep, hadn't even realized you'd been tired. But needing to cry often did that: lulled you into a frustrated slumber of avoidance.
"God, that smells so good," you commented, stretching and sitting up to make room for him on your couch as he set the large box down on the coffee table.
"I know. Way better than whatever you were cooking." He joked as he took a seat next to you, fiddling with the TV remote while you threw open the box and pulled out a piece.
"Be nice, I'm still hangry," you mumbled as you began eating in a way that betrayed how much the cheese was burning your tongue.
"I mean it," he added, dipping his head a little to see your face better. "You can yell at me if it would be cathartic."
There was a sincerity behind his eyes that warmed you. He always was too sweet to you, to do this so consistently. And surely he was busy some of those times. Never too busy for you though, it seemed. Because he always showed up.
Why do you always show up?
"Wouldn't be the same," you shrugged, abandoning the slice of pizza you had grabbed on a free space of the box as you decided to let it cool a bit more before you burned the rest of your mouth.
You felt his fingertips suddenly brush against your skin as he pushed hair behind your ear almost absentmindedly. And meeting his eyes, you saw more of that sincerity. But this time, your eyes plunged down to his lips, a movement that surely didn't go unnoticed as his followed suit. And you suddenly felt nervous under his gaze, anticipating what he might do as a result of that look and unsure of what that would mean to you.
"Jake…I don't know how much I'm in the mood for date night."
That's not true.
It was an easy way to put a swift end to the tension and had him dropping his hand back into his lap with a soft smile that didn't look the least bit wounded.
Maybe he's just good at hiding it.
"That's fine. I don't have to be Josh tonight. I can be whoever you want me to be."
You knew deep down what you wanted him to be that night but you didn't let yourself acknowledge it. You couldn't. Not before dinner, anyway.
"Can you be my friend right now?" you asked instead, ignoring how hot you suddenly felt and how good the exposed skin on his chest suddenly looked.
His smile widened a tinge as he caught the path of your eyes again but he didn't acknowledge it.
"Easiest thing in the world," he said in a soft voice, sitting back further as if to welcome whatever you were about to lay at his feet.
You sighed and turned your eyes toward the pizza box as you thought about it, the fact that Josh wasn't there and Jake was.
"I'm so proud of you all but it's getting harder. Undeniably. And I just don't see him ever having the time for me. At least not more than he does now. And even now, the time he has for me is…dwindling."
"Have you told him this?"
"No," you admitted. "Not lately and not in those words. With the tour ramping up and having him home this week, I was trying not to give him anything to dwell on on the road. No distractions."
Maybe that was stupid but you hated the idea of him being far away and worried about your relationship. You hated the idea of him being onstage and not being able to fully enjoy it, worried about you the entire time.
"You're part of his life, not a distraction. If he wants to make this work, he'll have to find a better balance. I think he'd understand that if you just talked to him."
Maybe he couldn't make up for the lost time. Or maybe you'd grown too attached to what seemed to always be right in front of you, like you'd been an afterthought for too long.
That's not fair to Josh and you know it.
"Aren't you worried he's gonna stop sending you?" You shot Jake a smile that masked the thoughts you'd begun to spin in your mind. But he only shook his head and sighed heavily.
"He knows I'm not the answer," he said candidly.
You thought about that for a moment before meeting his gaze again and asking the obvious.
"Then why does he keep sending you?"
"Because I'm always free," he suddenly smiled, masking his own thoughts he'd begun to spin in his mind, surely.
You couldn't stop your own smile, even knowing it wasn't the truth.
He was quiet a moment, turning away to face the TV you'd both been ignoring and the pizza that was cooling as he seemed to lose himself in thought. But god, he looked pretty that way. You hated to admit it but he did. He was a good listener and easy to listen to. He'd been your sounding board for the past few months on the date nights he'd filled in for, helping you finish off bottles of wine and working through a list of classic movies one or both of you had never seen. He'd eaten countless dishes meant for you and Josh and even learned the card game you had meant to teach Josh, although he was a much poorer sport than his twin would have been. But still, it had made you laugh watching him try to cheat using the reflection of the wine glass sitting in front of you and throwing the cards all over the table when he'd been caught. He'd only done it because you'd been crying when he had arrived and he was determined to take your mind off the obvious. And then there were the flowers, which were becoming a more common occurrence…
"Did you talk about it the first time after I left?"
You felt like you were pulled out of a reenactment of a dream but you knew without asking what he was referring to.
The first time. When you said filthy things to me and I loved it.
"No. It didn't feel like we needed to. We just woke up and went about our day together."
Like nothing even happened.
"Maybe that's why he sends me," Jake suggested. "He isn't worried about it."
You were unsure what to make of it and even more unsure of what to say. So instead, you nodded silently and reached for your pizza, deep in thought and ignoring whatever Jake put on the TV despite your eyes fixing to it. And you ate mindlessly for what felt like a long moment before you finally spoke again, a half-baked sentiment that was more formed out of anger and frustration than anything else.
"I'm not dating you though, I'm dating him. He could act like it."
Jake didn't turn to you.
"Is this your way of telling me you want me to leave?"
"No. It's better than being alone."
"Well, I'd hardly call that a raving review," he laughed, seeming to fake hurt that was probably somewhat real.
"It is nice of you to do this," you quickly added, getting a glimpse of how it had sounded without.
"I don't mind," he answered before taking a bite of pizza that effectively jumbled his words as he continued speaking. "Not in the slightest."
"Well, to be fair, you got to fuck me so no, I imagine you don't mind."
He looked somewhat shocked as he tried to swallow his bite rather than choke, mumbling out a, "Jesus-", that you didn't let him finish.
"Am I wrong?"
"I don't keep coming over here with my hopes up if that's what you're implying."
Would it be so bad if you did?
"You don't think about it?" you questioned, feeling emboldened by God knew what and hoping, praying even, that you liked his answer, especially given how much you'd thought about it as of late.
Fucking annoying, honestly. He could have at least done me a favor and been bad in bed. Maybe that would have made things easier.
"Of course I think about it," he admitted, "I think about it all the fucking time. It's indecent how much I think about it."
That brought a smile to your face, one that you couldn't stifle even if you tried.
"But I'm happy with whatever you're happy with," he continued. "I don't come over here expecting anything. I'll take whatever you want to give me, whatever that means for you. I told you, I'm whoever you want me to be and that, tonight, is friend."
I don't want you to just be my friend tonight.
You played with the hem of the oversized t-shirt you were wearing, suddenly far less hungry than you had been as you thought about what he was saying and how he had made you feel over the past few months.
And why does he always have to look so fucking good?
"What if I didn't want it to just be friend?" you asked hesitantly, unsure of how he'd respond.
It suddenly felt more dire that he could find a way to make that work too, as easily as he could the friend part.
God, you were nervous.
"Then I'd say can you at least let me finish my pizza before you jump me? Geez," he joked, presumably not taking you seriously.
So you tried again.
"I mean after," you responded with a much more serious look, "when this horrible movie you put on thinking I wouldn't notice is over and the leftover pizza is cold and he still isn't here. What will you be then?"
He leaned forward to discard his crust back in the box and brush off his hands before he drew in a long breath, fuel for the thought he was trying to carefully voice.
"After," he began slowly, "when the movie is over and the leftover pizza goes cold…and Josh still isn't here…" He paused to look at you, something cryptic written in his features that you wished you could shake out of him. You needed his thoughts and his honesty to help you mitigate yours. You felt far too alone in your desires at the moment, the one person who never seemed to hold back finally doing just that. "I'll walk you to your room and I'll tuck you in. And if you ask me to stay, I'll stay. Because I'm your friend."
You gave him an understanding nod and a quiet, "Okay," before turning back to the pizza.
—
You couldn't even say what the movie was about. It was a documentary that had started about aliens but somehow had drifted well into pirate territory in a confusing arc that you clearly hadn't followed. To be fair, you were watching without seeing, hearing without listening, enraptured in a swirl of self-destructive thoughts that actually weren't so self-destructive but more left a path of destruction in their wake. And just as predicted, hands stopped reaching for slices of pizza and cheese stopped boiling over the edges as the air took it to its chilly grave. The movie somehow came to a meaningful conclusion that only really meant something to you because credits rolled across the screen. And Josh still wasn't there.
"You look tired," Jake commented after a moment of sitting in darkness next to you, the only light being the tiny white names scrolling across the screen.
God, how many people could it have possibly taken to make that?
"I could sleep," you lied. Well, maybe you could sleep but that wasn't what you intended to do.
Nonetheless, he nodded and stood silently, taking the pizza box to the kitchen and returning to take your hand and lead you from the couch to your bedroom, implication suddenly heavy in the air as he led.
He said nothing as he stood in the doorway letting you walk past him into the room, nothing as you approached your bed before turning back to face him, nothing as you waited for a move he clearly wasn't going to make on his own.
"I think about it too, you know. The first time…" You trailed off without further explanation, your hands suddenly fiddling with the hem of your oversized shirt as you hoped it incited some action on his part.
Jake was silent for a beat before understanding washed over his face and he nodded quickly.
"I’m flattered," was all he said with a soft, almost shy smile as he finally crossed the room to your bed to pull down the comforter, turning expectantly, waiting for you to get in.
He wasn't typically one to be humble but there was something endearing about the rosy hue growing brighter on his cheeks. It almost reminded you of Josh to be honest. And you weren't sure if that made it worse given how much you wanted him.
Without any warning, instead of climbing into bed as he'd expected you to do, you closed the space between you and pressed your lips to his jaw, reveling in the sound of a sudden hushed inhale as he instinctively leaned into the feeling. But his words, hushed and quiet as he spoke them as if he were hoping you wouldn't hear, betrayed the struggle in his mind that was much less willing than his body.
"I think this is a bad idea…" he trailed off quietly as he tilted his chin ever so slightly to let your lips continue their attack along his jaw. And when he heard no response from you, you felt his Adam's apple bob with a gulp as he mustered up the strength to speak again. "I know that you're upset-"
"You said he wasn't worried," you interjected quickly as your mouth moved to his neck where you felt goosebumps prickling against your lips and tongue. You continued your movements as your hands weaved their way into his linen shirt, only to be met by his hands grasping your biceps as if he were going to stop you but the fight had evaded him before he could.
"I know what I said-"
"I just want to feel you," you said finally, pulling your face away to look him in the eyes and put your desperation on display for him.
He was better than being alone. Far better. And fuck, you wanted him.
He seemed to give in almost immediately as his lips found yours more earnestly, losing himself finally in the way you tasted. It felt like a relief to have his hands on you, any hands really as the nights you'd spent alone had grown longer.
"This is the last time," he murmured against your lips as his hands traveled up under your baggy t-shirt to explore the smooth skin that lay beneath.
You agreed with a half-hearted hum on your lips as your own hands traversed over the thin material of his shirt, slipping downward in search of the belt he always wore. You worked quickly to pull it off, setting your hands to work on the button and zipper as it clamored to the floor.
"I mean it," he mumbled again, never really pulling his mouth from yours entirely.
His hands were warm on your skin and did their best to distract from what he was saying, words you'd process later when your mind was no longer numb and flooded with him alone. If there was a line you were crossing, you'd see it in the morning when you woke, drawn perfectly on the floor and smudged only where you and Jake had danced across it.
"Yes, sir," you whispered that time, pulling back ever so slightly to bat your lashes up at him, only to be greeted with an eye roll in return. But a smile adorned his lips nonetheless.
"Gonna get me in trouble," he whispered back as he shook his head, the rosiness of his cheeks growing hotter and redder thanks to your mouth and hands on him, now prying his shirt from his body to send it floating to the floor.
He pushed into you again, squishing any space between you so you sent your arms circling his shoulders instead. He held you closely too, hands pulling you in at your waist impossibly closer even while he walked you backward toward the edge of your bed. You felt magnetized to him, utterly incapable of prying yourself from him even as the thought of Josh's impending arrival swirled somewhere in the back of your mind.
Jake started with the hem of your leggings, tucking his fingers in and doing his best to work them down your legs without his mouth so much as leaving yours. And when the material moved beyond his reach, he helped you shimmy them down the rest of the way and step out of them. And the moment your legs were freed, he spun the two of you so he could take a seat on the edge of your bed and pulled you into his lap.
Pulling his face away from yours finally and letting his hands drop to his jeans to finish the work you had started, he spoke again in a much more serious voice, gravelly and grave.
"You're going to ride me. Take exactly what you want from me."
It was a little glimpse of the Jake he had been the first time he had filled in for date night. And it was exactly what you hadn't realized you were missing.
"Can you do that for me?" he asked as he freed himself and coaxed you into a hover over him with one hand at your hip while the other pulled your panties to the side.
You were speechless, his eyes boring into yours and his hands guiding you even without your answer until the head of his cock brushed your entrance. Your eyes watered with anticipation, every muscle in your body tense as you waited to feel him push inside. And not a single word formed on your tongue or a single thought in your mind.
"Yeah, I think you can," he answered for you with a smirk on his lips and his hand wrapped around himself, already guiding it into you. "And I'm gonna talk you through it."
With his arm snaked around your waist, he brought you down onto his cock in one swift motion, earning a sharp gasp from you as he filled you, a sudden stretch that felt somehow more delicious than it had the first time. Maybe because you knew what you had been missing out on this time around.
"Fuck, I missed you," you breathed, your eyes falling shut for a moment while your thighs warmed against his and the familiar sting of the stretch began to turn to pleasure.
His hands moved to your hips, finding the skin just under the material of the oversized shirt you still wore and digging into the skin there, not so hard so as to leave bruises but hard enough to keep you steady as you leaned forward to drop your forehead against his shoulder, suddenly overtaken by feelings you didn't quite understand.
He felt the shift, something akin to desperate to have him turned desperate to keep him. He felt it in your hot breath against his neck, felt it in the heat radiating from every point on your body, felt it in the unsteady beat of breaths you were taking, almost overtaken by the fierce pounding of your heart as desire and hurt and guilt all fought to take hold of your body. But he didn't retreat from what he felt, only held you that much tighter.
"Are you still with me?" he asked softly, just above a whisper against the shell of your ear, a brief pause from the man he seemed to become when in your bedroom.
You were with him. Maybe a little too with him, you realized. Josh had sent his brother to the rescue so many times, you were beginning to want to be rescued.
"I'm with you," was all you answered back, saving him from your inner turmoil in hopes he'd let you keep going through it.
He seemed keen to let you, too. Or maybe keen to let himself was more accurate. Regardless, wherever your mind had begun to drift, you were suddenly snapped back into place within his arms as he breathed out a rather unfair, "Good girl," and pulled your hips forward once, sliding you easily along his cock thanks to the slick that had been building since the moment you had seen him standing there at your front door. Shamelessly.
"Shit, Jake," you hissed as searing hot pleasure seeped into your body the longer you warmed around him. It incited you to move your hips, slowly at first, searching for that delicious push and pull and stretch of him inside you that felt like a too-distant memory.
He dipped one arm around your waist as his other curled up over your back to bury his hand in your hair, keeping your forehead pressed into his skin as he mumbled words of encouragement. Not that you needed encouraging. His cock, thick and hot inside of you was certainly encouragement enough.
"Ride it, just like that," he murmured as your hips worked up into a steady rhythm. "Just like that, that's it."
You clung to him as you did, clung to the feeling of being full, of his arms holding you. And it only spurred you on, your movements quickening their pace as you moved around him and the sound of skin on skin and both of your heavy breathing began to fill the room. Gentle curses whispered in nothing but a breath betrayed his always cool and casual demeanor and only seemed to fuel the feeling growing hot in your abdomen.
You slid easily along his cock, up and down, taking him fully each time before retreating. His arms helped you move too, encouraging your pace and squeezing you hard like you were grounding him even though you were certain it was the other way around.
"You're so fucking perfect like this," he whispered against your hair, the words punctuated by a noise you'd never quite heard him make, a shameless moan that you suddenly felt desperate to hear again. But having let the sound slip, he seemed to regain his control as he used his grip in your hair to pull your face back to meet his eyes. They were glassy, almost glazed over with euphoria, his lips parted as he struggled and failed to breath evenly, a thin sheen of sweat forming on his forehead and matting his hair to it. He was breathtaking, as usual.
"Jesus fuck, Jake," you breathed, your voice hitching in your throat as the words turned into a pathetic noise.
"Yeah? Tell me all about it," he asked in a breathy, hushed voice like it was a secret meant only for the two of you. "Did you miss me, beautiful? Does that feel as good as you remember?"
Better.
You gave him a desperate nod, answering all and none of his questions at once, your brows furrowed and bottom lip sucked between your teeth and the tension building within you clearly visible on your face.
He nodded back with a whisper of a smirk on his lips, breathless as he was himself. "Yeah, poor thing missed my cock, didn’t she? Tell me how good I feel," he urged.
"Fuck, Jake, you feel so good," you practically chanted, stealing a moment to gaze down at where the two of you connected while something about blurred lines fizzled out of view in the back of your mind. "So fucking good."
Like you belong here with me.
A groan ripped its way through his chest as his hips began lifting slightly to meet each of your downward motions, driving his cock into your sensitive spot with each thrust and only making you want to ride him that much harder despite the burn creeping up into your knees.
"You take it so well for me, such a fucking good girl," he praised you through gritted teeth and a clenched jaw. "Bouncing on it like you were fucking made for it, that's my pretty girl."
You reveled in his words and the way they heightened the pleasure of his cock pressing against that sweet spot inside of you on each inward thrust, pushing you closer and closer to your own orgasm.
He could see the impending release in your eyes, too, given the way he suddenly gripped you harder and brought his mouth close to your ear to whisper to you his words of encouragement, using one hand splayed flat against the bed to hold you both up. "I know you want to come. Let it go for me, I'll talk you through it just like I promised. I've got you, baby."
Fuck.
"God, Jake," you moaned against his throat, fighting through the strain of your muscles to ride him harder, to take him deeper and faster, wet noises now echoing obscenely through the room.
"Yeah, just like that, let it go," he urged in what was something like half-coherent words, half-moan. "I want you to come all over my cock. Make a mess of me like you're so good at doing." And then a light, "Fuck," after meant only for you.
You were close but it threatened to tumble back downward without reaching its peak, a mental block that you felt you were suddenly fighting, desperately trying to push through before you lost it altogether. But Jake's voice suddenly came softer, finding you in your struggle and bringing you back up to the surface.
"Just relax, let it happen," he coaxed as he took your jaw in his hand to direct your eyes to his, warm and inviting and safe. "I've got you, I'm with you. Just let me feel you."
Fuck.
With his words, you were done for. You felt it ripple through you lightly at first, quickly growing more intense as you pushed your body through it, spurred on by his continued movements matching yours. Your eyes struggled to stay open as it washed through you but watching you and, in turn, you watching him, seemed to push his own orgasm along. His own face began to show the control that was quickly evading him.
Suddenly he was flipping you onto your back, your bodies still connected, and driving into you as his name spilled from your mouth over and over again. Hiking your leg up over his shoulder, he pushed himself over the edge and you along with him for a second time, his hand still wrapped beneath your jaw but his forehead now falling against your sternum as he basked in it and fucked you both through it.
You each came down slowly, neither of you moving from your place where your arms still held one another. If reality was that he had to leave your arms, you didn't want to face it. But finally, with a sigh, Jake withdrew and pulled his exhausted self from your grasp to grab a towel and clean you up, cleaning himself up shortly after.
You maneuvered into the warm embrace of your comforter to watch him move about the room, collecting his shirt and belt and redressing silently before he crossed back over to you. But this time, he didn't join you under the covers. Instead he stood beside you and let his hand cradle your cheek for a moment, looking like he was memorizing your fucked out look. Or just all the little details he had missed.
"You should get some sleep," he said quietly, looking almost forlorn.
"I don't want you to go," you argued immediately, knowing his next steps would either carry him out the door or bring him to your side.
But he only shook his head, much to your disappointment.
"You said you would stay if I asked."
Maybe that was mean to throw at him but he had said it and you weren't really in a good place to be abandoned by another of the Kiszka brothers.
He swallowed hard and let his thumb swipe gently along your jaw. He looked…remorseful.
"Josh will be home soon. I think the two of you should talk. And I don't think I should be here when he gets here."
With only a quick kiss pressed to your forehead, he was out the door without another glance your direction before you had more time to protest, quietly padding through the home to collect his things. It wasn't until you heard the front door shut that you felt truly alone in your own home, wondering when Josh would arrive. And you felt tears well up in your chest and begin to spill from your eyes.
Series Summary: A new demon has come to Nashville. Josh and Jake's ways of life have been thrown off by her arrival. The angel and demon have lived with an understanding of one another, but with Y/N stirring up trouble and asking questions, they're forced to work out a new normal. And why is she so powerful for a human turned demon anyway, that's unusual, right?
A/N: hiiii heres part 2!!! Pls like comment and reblog bc it helps and makes me happy to hear what you think! Also I’ve added a taglist form so add yourself to that and I’ll make sure you get tagged from now on! Happy reading <3
Summary: Y/N finally runs into the demon named Jake. What a night!
Word Count: 4.8k | Warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, 18+ descriptions of sex (no explicit smut yet), demon!jake ayo, i think that’s it
Taglist | Series Masterpost
Part Two: Unholy Affliction
She didn’t run into the odd angel and demon duo for two months. After the brief encounter outside of the speakeasy with both of them, nothing. She was enduring her second life back on Earth as best as could be expected as someone with little to no knowledge about the modern world with no one but her dog to talk to about things that really mattered. She insisted to Rori as they lounged around the apartment that she was having fun as he stared at her dubiously.
She’d be more than damned to be upset that the other demon hadn’t come to find her. He probably thought he was too good for her or just didn’t care about her. Well, she definitely didn’t care. She didn’t need him to help her. Making trouble came easily to her. It was just everything else about being in this world that was hard.
It was an accident when she finally bumped into him. At least, it was by accident for her. She had chosen to take the long way home from the bar she had made hers for the night. Swirling around to music she blared from the phone she’d picked up after a few weeks, Rori ran circles around her howling into the night. She sang along to the music and danced, staring at the waxing moon. Mostly alone, but she felt mostly alive. Wasn’t a total loss.
She paid no attention to her surroundings. It was so late on a back road, it was unlikely anyone would be around and if they were around, she would make them sorry they bothered her.
“Is this all you do then?” A voice from the shadows inquired.
She recognized it immediately. She’d hung onto his voice as one of the few pieces of information she had about this ancient demon. Jake. Seemed silly to her that he didn’t have a more hellish name. It was practically still an altar boy’s name–she should use that on him if he said something really rude.
She stops the music and her movements, coming to a complete standstill. “Jake.”
He saunters out of the shadows, messing with his hair. He stares at her, waiting for an answer.
“How do you mean?”
He rolls his eyes and gestures his hand to her body. “Party. Cause a little trouble. Get drunk. Wander home alone.” Sad.
She laughs, certain he was kidding, and choosing to ignore the stab in her chest she felt at the word ‘alone’. “I have my—Isn’t that the job?”
“Just the trouble part. But altering bars to your liking doesn’t really fulfill that. There’s a lot of ways to get the job done even if your specialties are seduction and desire…”
He narrowed his eyes at the end of his sentence. Jake thought she was silly. He didn’t take his job very seriously but he also couldn’t stand to see someone doing it differently than him.
She didn’t feel shame but a certain strangeness about the fact that Josh had clearly talked about their night at the speakeasy to Jake.
“You seem too young to be sent up to the big leagues. Nepo baby?”
“What baby? I don’t even know what that means.”
Jake sighs in exasperation.
“Nepotism was around in the 70s before they dragged you down to Hell, yeah? A practice among those in power to give special preference to relatives. Erh,” Jake tried to think of a reference she might know. “Whatever. Forget it.”
This was the third thing he added to the growing list of ways she seemed to be struggling in the modern world. This, the bars and how she wasn’t taking advantage of online ordering—he definitely hadn’t been spying on her these last two months, he just may have stopped by her place a few times. Just to see if she’d had her earthly access revoked or not.
Jake tilts his head and his cheekbones catch in the light. He was a handsome demon. She liked his longer hair, reminding her of the boys back in the day. His brown eyes were sweet like his angel counterpart’s, but the yellow ones she had seen the other day had sent a shiver down her spine.
“If I’m doing the job so wrong, why has it taken you this long to tell me? Maybe if you guided me or gave me information I could do the devil’s will a little better?” She tried to keep the unfamiliar nerves growing in her stomach away.
“It’s not in my interests to help you, per say.” He gestures a hand out towards the road she had been traveling, wanting them to keep walking. “But, unofficially, you're doing the afterlife life so wrong it's hurting my no good soul.”
She falls into step with him, still watching him as he disregards her, pulling his sunglasses back over his eyes. “True demons have souls?”
“My consciousness, whatever that I am, it doesn’t really matter what you call it. Just is the easiest term.” He grumbles.
She smiles at his frustration with her. “So you’re gonna mentor me?” Her voice was relaxed, but she couldn’t hide the truth from herself. She wanted more than anything to have some guidance from Jake. He seemed to know what he was doing and while she denied it, she did feel unfulfilled so far.
“I guess… It’ll get Josh off my back about your fiddling with the swing of the bars.”
“You listen to your angel brother? And it’s really nothing, I don’t know why both of you keep bringing it up!”
“Because people!” Jake stops, raising his voice shakily. He takes hold of her shoulders. “People have been talking about it. The first lesson of demonology is to make sure your work goes unnoticed. Evil is insidious. It doesn’t knock at the door or even bust it off its hinges, it seeps through the cracks, uninvited and unannounced until it's too late.”
She’s alight at his touch. His hands are fire against her exposed skin that had cooled in the night air. He is literally steaming with passion and she can feel it falling off of him. She feeds off of it. Her eyes stare up into his unreadable face. His lips are parted in a perfect cupid’s bow–reminiscent of his angel origins.
“And I don’t listen to Josh. It’s just impossible to get him to shut up.”
She sighs, waving her hand at Rori who had returned from running ahead when he realized the two demons weren’t behind him anymore.
“But why does Josh care?”
“Because,” Jake shakes his head, letting go of her arms and starting to walk again. “If enough people get talking about it, then the Upstairs will eventually get a hold of it and ask Josh why he hasn’t put a stop to it.”
She’s still confused. “And?”
“For fuck’s sake…And Josh and I have a deal where we don’t step on each other’s toes. We do enough good and enough bad–at least, it had been enough–to keep the ones in charge satisfied. You’re fucking it up for both of us. Making us work.”
“It kind of sounds like what I’m doing is actually fine and you two are just mad because you don’t want to deal with it.”
They reach a black door with a lamp to the right of it, illuminating the address number ‘666’. She stares between him and the number, tapping her nose. Jake shakes his head, twisting the door handle and grumbling something about how it was establishment-issued. The sound of the lock undoing itself is heard from inside the wall.
He opens the door and responds indignantly. “Nuh-uh.”
She laughs. “Uh-huh…No wonder Hell sent me up here. You’re slacking!”
She follows him down the long dark entryway through an arch that opened into a 70s style conversation pit, completely carpeted in navy blue. The color of a deep night sky with only a few stars to keep it lit.
“What do you expect? I’m a demon. Thousands of years old, I’ve paid my fucking dues.”
There’s a bottle of whiskey open on the coffee table in the center, half drank. In a blink of an eye, they both have full glasses in their hands. Jake doesn’t offer a salutation and drinks slowly from the glass and proceeds to remove his sunglasses. His eyes flicker between brown and yellow several times when they return to Y/N. He swore he’d seen her before.
“Plus, the humans are so much better at thinking up evil shit to do. Things I’d never even dream up.” He relaxes into his seating, looking altogether like he belonged here. Far more than he did in Heaven or Hell.
She pulls her knees up to her chest and rests her chin on top while she takes a sip of the expensive looking liquor. She was trying to keep her eyes on Jake and her immediate surroundings rather than staring around the place with wandering eyes. It was expansive, filled with trinkets that looked older than most of the modern world, mixed in with incredible paintings and lavish decor. No house she’d been in had been this beautiful and some had been rockstar’s homes. Then again, she never had much time or lucidity to look around those places.
Pointedly, she stared at Jake instead of the room. He had seen through her as a newbie with no real clue what she was supposed to do. She didn’t want to seem fazed by a little interior design.
“So what do you do instead of Hell’s wishes?”
“Play my guitar mostly,” Jake shrugs. “Then I write up a report on whatever shitty things humans have done in the last month and send it down to Hell as my deeds.”
“You’re a musician too,” Her eyes lit up, her humanity slipping to the surface. “Tell me you play real music. Not the garbage that comes out of all the stereos around here.”
Jake’s laugh is loud and obnoxious but she likes it.
“It’s not all bad but I know what you mean. Nothing like the 70s around these days. Bet you would’ve liked the 90s though…There was some fantastic rock.”
She moves closer to him, eager for Jake to talk about something she liked and cared about. He could be someone who could guide her and converse with. He shifts a little bit away from her and she tilts her head in confusion.
Jake nods at her as he swallows more of his whiskey.
“I heard you succeeded in tempting Josh.”
“Not really,” She shrugs, immediately knowing why Jake was keeping his distance.
“Josh letting a demon kiss him to show him mystical porn…” Jake chuckles darkly. “That’s plenty of success.”
“He’s challenging.” She tried to keep hurt out of her voice, but considering she hadn’t seen Josh either she wondered if she’d really scared him off. “Everyone else is too easy around here—and gross.”
Jake smirks. “It’s very impressive for such a minor demon to have gotten that far with an angel like Josh.”
“It seems like you’ve had a corrupting influence on him,” she pushed back.
“Well, yeah. But I’ve never macked on him in a speakeasy dressed like that.” Jake’s eyes wander over her figure. She wasn’t wearing the same thing as she had with Josh, but it communicated the same thing. All black, low cut and high cut all at once, and the carnelian necklace, glowing like a beacon.
“I could make that happen for you two, if you wanted.”
“I do not want that. At all.”
“Just checking. You sound kind of jealous.”
Jake shakes his head at her. “You’re rotten.”
He couldn’t quite puzzle her out. She wasn’t like other demons he’d come into contact with over the years. They were solitary creatures and wretched. She wanted companionship, which was particularly human. And while she was good at the evil stuff, her desire for interaction and connection seemed to outweigh what should be her main prerogative: devilish destruction.
She wanted to hear about his music rather than talk about how she’d almost successfully tempted an angel, for Satan's sake. Half the demons he knew barely registered music as an instrument of demonic work, much less took pleasure in it.
“What were you doing in the 60s and 70s,” She asks.
Jake smiled, memories flashing before his eyes immediately. His eyes go yellow at the question and she realizes it’s kind of like him closing his eyes. Like an internal eyelid or something. Something inhuman.
Disraeli Gears began to spin on a record player somewhere in the room and her smile matched Jake’s.
“Cream was my favorite band back then. Clapton, he was the man.”
“I’m more of a George Harrison gal when it comes to British guitarists,” she says dreamily. “I saw Cream at the Troubadour when they were just starting out. But the Doors were more my style. Zeppelin, Stones and Hendrix too. God, those guys were something.”
“You were in the music scene?” Josh had said she was from Los Angeles. He hadn’t been specific about what she did.
She finished her drink and held out the glass for more. Jake just stared at it and suddenly the glass was full again. She grinned, taking a sip with a nod of appreciation.
“Yeah. It’s what got me on the devil’s list. Sleeping with singers and doing way too many drugs. Started sneaking backstage when I was 15 and getting into trouble started about the second I walked through the door.”
Jake nodded with reverence. Her expertise made sense. Why she was so powerful, still unanswered. He finished his second glass and switched to the bottle, deciding to settle in for the night that was quickly becoming morning.
The demons went back and forth, retelling ridiculous stories from the time where their lives first overlapped. Jake’s bad fashion choices. Her terrible taste in men. Jake’s inventions of evil. Their shared expensive taste for party drugs and liquor.
The first whiskey and a second bottle were gone after a few hours and they were sprawled on the navy floor. She ran her hands along the soft carpet.
“Thanks for finally coming to see me. Thought you hated me,” she murmurs.
“I hate two things in this world: Justin Bieber and global warming. I jus’ was worried you’d get me in trouble when you first got here. Needed to know if you were a snitch or not.”
She nods. Jake nods back, shutting his eyes fully.
“Wait. Who’s Justin Bieber?”
Jake cackles. “I keep forgetting you know practically nothing about what’s happened in the last 50 years. You’re like a child.”
Her eyes flash black at Jake’s teasing. Her defenses went up at any sign of embarrassment, but her head was swimming in brown liquor. She barely managed to sit up and stare meanly at him. With his eyes still closed, he didn’t even take notice. Though he heard her huff unhappily and it made him grin.
“That why you need a friend? To show you the ropes of modern life?” He pushes himself up to lean on his hands. It was like he had seen inside her mind. “You kind of got sent back at a shit time. Sorry.”
If she could still feel true shame, she might have blushed, but her body didn’t work like that anymore. Instead her eyes stayed black and her hair reddened.
“Am I hitting a nerve?” Jake chuckles again, his cruel nature peeking out at her obvious discomfort, and his eyes flick yellow. “You’re lonely?”
She huffs, feeling the liquor fueling a growing anger. Where was her blood-sucking dog when she needed him? Actually, she wasn’t sure if demon’s like Jake would bleed so maybe it was good Rori stuck to the shadows—i.e. gone to bed.
“No.”
“You can’t lie to me, Sal.”
The name she gave to Josh sticks in Jake’s voice. It’s an accusation. He knew. How.
“I’ve been lying longer than you’ve existed. I can see a liar coming from off in the harbor.” Jake continues, his jeering laugh makes her skin crawl. It’s like he’d slipped into a different part of himself. Different, but still clearly Jake. “You never asked about my speciality.”
She had a feeling he’d tell her. Wherever he had gone to with his eyes stuck in their horrifying yellow form, he was in charge for the time being.
“Tricksters, thieves and gluttons. Used to have lechery, but it got boring.”
“I didn’t get to choose,” she mumbles. She had drawn her knees up to her chest again, feeling some semblance of anxiety.
Jake’s eyes flicked back to brown and his smirk turned to a frown. “You didn’t get to choose?”
“Do human-demons normally get to choose?”
“Humans don’t normally become demons,” Jake corrects. “But no matter, you’re supposed to choose.”
“I don’t know what else I would’ve chosen besides what I got, I guess. It’s just not something I’m actually passionate about.” She laughs at the irony. “I don’t want to sleep with just anybody anymore. I already did that. I just want to have a good time on my terms this time.”
He smirked with a little surprised laugh. “You’re sweet on my angel brother aren’t you? His pristine feathers got under your skin.”
She was about to deny it when she remembered what had just happened when she’d lied to him.
“I like a challenge. That doesn’t mean I’m only interested in him…But I need a bit of a game.”
Jake knew what she was saying. She knew it. Their almost drunken fight was forgotten. The subject matter moving along to something they had clearly been avoiding all night. Their desire. She liked the power Jake exuded, even if it scared her a little too. She wanted to see if she could get him, too.
Jake rolls his eyes and motions for her to come closer. “I bet you can’t get into my mind. Nothing you could show me could sway me into sleeping with you. How’s that for a challenge?”
She smiled. “But don’t you want to sleep with me?”
“Says who?” He spread his legs, his knees bowed out wide. He motioned for her to take a seat on top of him. “I could make myself look like Josh if you’d like. All I’ve got to change is the hair, our faces are the same. I know he’s been avoiding you.”
He switches from ambivalent to cruel between sentences and she can’t find her footing. She swings her left leg over his body, settling into his lap. Her hands instinctively went to his chest as he stared up at her. He was a challenge in a different way to his angel brother.
“Okay, lay the thoughts on me,” Jake puts a hand on her shoulder when she leans in, a knowing smirk on his lips. “And I know you don’t actually need to kiss me to transfer them. There just has to be some form of skin to skin contact.”
She huffs in annoyance. “Spoil sport.”
Jake laughs. “Go on, giddy up, girl.”
She narrows her eyes at him, allowing them to slip to black as she raises her fingers to Jake’s temples. Her hands slink into his hair and take a rough grasp of his roots. He grunts in mild discomfort, but maintains his challenging stare, lowering his hands to her hips to keep her still.
Her eyelids flicker like her eyes are rolling back in her head, but the spheres of inky black don’t change. Jake watches with tempered interest, seeing her process.
Then his vision shifts, leaving his comfortable living room, it's cloudy, murky like a foggy night out on the ocean. It’s still familiar to him. Her figure appears through the mist, shifting with the fog. She steps closer to Jake and he now hears the lapping of the ocean and tastes the salt of the oceanair on his lips. She’d found a memory of one of his ships and made it the setting for this temptation.
‘Your fantasies are all nautical themed,’ She speaks in his mind, her tone is curious. ‘Why’s that?’
‘Aren’t you supposed to be seducing me?’
‘Yeah, but I still have questions.’
Jake laughs inside his head and he hates the way he doesn’t hate her presence there and then he wonders if she can feel that feeling. This was new for him.
The scene rocks melodically back and forth upon waves and a beautiful blue light descends on the room he begins to see. She’s a figure at the corner of it, leaning against a door, the entire room is cozy and she is surprised by the care that seems to exude from this recess of Jake’s mind.
There’s a cool breeze, but overall the room is warm and Jake is sat leaning back upon the bed while he watches her approach.
‘I don’t see anything.’ She murmurs. Jake feels a ripple in the vision, a strange dichotomy of the faux images she’s showing him and the plane of reality their physical bodies are existing on. She’s pressing harder into his real skin, in his living room, talking aloud.
Jake says nothing.
‘I know you have carnal desires, I can sense them,’ she continues. ‘Why are they so vague?’
In the vision, she has sat beside Jake now, staring at him. She looks a little different in the vision than how he has seen her physical body. Her hair is duller, her body weaker, she looks far more human to Jake. Still beautiful and sensual, but he wonders if maybe she cannot change the image of her soul in the ether as easily as she can on Earth.
She is wearing a deep blue slip, the first time he’s seen her in a color other than black. He moves in the vision and her eyes widen, confused that he has autonomy in something she is meant to control. He brushes at her hair, allowing his hand to gently trail her face and neck.
‘I usually like to pleasure my partner. I like to give them what they want.’
She stares at him intently, feeling a shiver in her spine once more. Out of control.
‘Your big wide eyes, you’re like a helpless bug, even here. All confused why you’re not in control, showing me my deepest, darkest desires.’
She focuses harder on her task, searching through the wisps of memory in Jake’s mind. Like Josh, he had only allowed her into a small portion of his mind, but a small portion of an ancient creature was still cavernous. She flipped through the images in search of concrete memories rather than memories of desire. Memories of times when he had felt fulfilled, she saw him curled around beautiful women, sometimes strong and sometimes meek and she was surprised. He didn’t seem like the one to be soft in the bedroom, but she remembered his remark of giving what his partners wanted.
‘You’re barely a demon. Still practically an angel.’ She mutters, feeling discomfort when watching the scenes of him with other people for some reason.
‘I am not.’ His voice is warning. She doesn’t press.
She kept digging, still unsure what to do to show him something that would tempt him. Images of him in bed alone surface after a while and she pushes harder, looking for the thoughts that had been in his head at that time. She looked for what he imagined when his hand was slipping around himself in the dark. The thoughts that made his breath quicken and his stomach shudder. Finally.
She shifted the image, her figure below Jake and she feels a strange sort of deja vu. The Jake in the scene was over her and she was moaning the usual obscenities as his hair rocked around her. Jake’s actual consciousness was unimpressed.
‘So sometimes I like it a little vanilla, so what? You’re still not convincing me to crave you, demoness.’
‘Your mind is strange. Hard to navigate, I guess.’
Vision Jake leans down to kiss her with a hum. ‘I like that.’
She shifts the scene, unhappy with him messing with her again. She shows them together in a few different positions and she feels herself pulling from the things she had shown Josh, hoping Jake couldn’t tell. She also shows Jake a scene of him between her thighs and she hears him groan, making her feel a little accomplished.
The final scene, she had been holding onto in hopes that she would’ve flustered him enough before having to show it to him. It was risky, even for her. He was a strong demon and this could make him more upset than aroused. But if he hadn’t wanted her to access the idea, he should’ve been more careful.
They’re in a beautiful room, draped in red and flooded with moonlight. She straddles Jake’s hips and she rocks back and forth on him. He hums as she runs her hands over every curve of his face, down his neck and across his shoulders. Then she speaks to him, her lips pressed against the curve of his ear, soft and insistent.
‘You do not have to be good to be loved.’ She felt Jake push at her presence, but she continued, kissing at his sweaty skin. ‘You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert repenting. Tell me about your despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.’
She kisses him deeply on the lips and vision Jake relents, giving in to her touch. Letting it consume him, he gets lost in the imagined moment, pulling her figure closer, wanting them to meld into one. In the vision, it’s almost as if they do, their souls twisting and touching in a way so foreign to the material world she was alight in a way she never had been before.
In his living room, she releases his head and her eyes flicker back to their regular color. Jake’s hands are strong, keeping her close as he blinks back to the physical plane.
“How did you know to say that?” Jake breathes, feeling slightly off, but knowing he wanted Y/N here. “How did you see that?”
She feels the intensity of Jake’s question. “It was in a memory. You read the poem and then went to bed.”
Jake nodded, still staring at her face but not quite her eyes, wanting her to continue.
“I felt how happy you were that night when you came. The only thing different from other nights was that poem. Thought I’d give it a shot.”
“Don’t ever speak of that to anyone. Do you understand me?” His fingers were burning at her sides.
“I would never.” Her voice is sincere. She worries her lip, unsure if she should say what’s really on her mind. “I meant it.”
Jake looks up at her eyes for the first time since they had come out of the vision. “What?”
She traces under his eyes gingerly with her thumbs, scared of him pushing her away. “I understand why you like the poem so much. I like it too. So, I meant it...You can tell me about your despair, and I will tell you mine.”
She pauses, watching Jake’s blank expression.
“If you want. Challenge, everything, aside. I am a demon but I am also still a girl inside somewhere. Both exist within me and I don’t even like the demon stuff all that much. I’ve had 50 years to realize just how much I wish I’d done it all differently. Maybe I wouldn’t be seducing strangers as some sort of living dead eternal 27 year old. Maybe I could’ve been alive somewhere else right now, withering with a long line of family to love me as I died slowly.”
“Oh fucking hell,” Jake sighs, releasing a hand to twirl a finger through her hair. .
“What?”
“You’re fucking brilliant,” He shakes his hair out and then presses his lips against her just like he had in the vision. “You win,” He mumbles against her lips.
She kisses him back, her arms snaking around his neck. “It wasn’t a gimmick. I’m serious.”
“I know, and you win. Sincerity,” Jake moves his lips to kiss along her jaw. “Is extremely sexy, in a world where almost nothing is true. Fuck. You’re so soft.”
She grinned up at the ceiling, befuddled but excited.
“Do those people even know the gift they were getting when you went home with them?” His voice shakes with passion and desire. She’s certain this is not from her usual influence. Her powers hadn’t worked on Jake at all.
Jake was practically worshiping her because she was herself. Because she had found a real piece of him and shown it to him and connected with it. It felt better than any meaningless hookup she’d had before. Jake, the demon who had criticized her, was the gentlest lover she’d ever had. The sweetest soul she’d ever connected with. It felt so good to be seen.
No preface for this one. Just a special apology in advance… i hope you guys still love me after this👉🏽👈🏽💖
Part 6
Word Count: 11.7k
Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader
Warnings: 18+ as usual, Minors DNI. Mentions of sickness. Violence. TW for tragedy/trauma/injuries.
It’s not possible…
Jake’s hands were cupping your face, willing you to snap out of your trance, to just look at him. This wasn’t a dream. It was a cruel nightmare and now all you wanted was to wake up and make it stop. His voice invaded your consciousness, gentle and calm, and your eyes finally focused on him. “Are you here, baby? Are you with me?” Despite the soft timbre of his tone, he was perturbed, but hiding it well for you.
“Jake, I wanna go home.” Your lip trembled and he didn’t argue, just grabbed his keys from the table top and tucked your phone into his pocket.
Daniel came up, asking if everything was alright and you watched mindlessly as Jake leaned in whispering to him. Danny nodded once and walked off. Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion as your boyfriend took his jacket off, placing it over your shoulders and led you through the swarm of people. You could feel them all staring as he walked you through the door and outside. Jake pulled the car door open, “Get in, love. Watch your head, please.”
Once you were tucked into the seat, he closed the door and rounded to his side, climbing in. You leaned your head on the window, still warm from the sun, now set and replaced by a shimmering full moon. The car pulled out onto the road and after a few minutes, Jake reached over, taking your left hand in his. He didn’t say anything and you didn’t expect him to but when his thumb grazed over the stone, sitting on your ring finger, you ripped your hand away. “Pull over.” The words gasped out and he turned to look at you, opening his mouth to say something. “Jake, pull the fucking car over! Please!” He saw the way you were clutching your stomach and whipped the car onto the shoulder of the road, along a large, empty field. The car wasn’t even stopped, let alone in park, yet as you unlocked the door and pushed it open. You hit the ground hard, using your hands to break the fall.
Jake was stepping out after turning the hazards on, scolding you. “Y/N, what are you doing? You could’ve hurt yourself!” He came around to you and his attitude softened as he saw you crawling towards the grass, heaving out your dinner. He dropped to his knees beside you and gathered your hair into one hand while rubbing your back with the other. When you finally sat up, breathing heavily, he went back to the car and pulled a few napkins from the glove box. Returning to you, he sat down and wiped at your mouth. He looked at you, expecting you to be crying but your face was contorted with anger. He tried to decipher what you were thinking, searching your face and body for any clue, but came up short. “Baby…”
You ignored him and looked down at your palms, illuminated by the moonlight and riddled with tiny pebbles and road debris. Blood dripped from a small cut on your right hand where a shard of glass was embedded. Calmly brushing the dirt away, you carefully pulled the piece of glass out, wincing from the sting. You stared at the shard, pinched between your fingers, for a few seconds and flexed your fingers on the bleeding hand. Jake took the glass from you and held your wrists, examining your palms. You allowed him to dab at the cut with a napkin, his touch so incredibly gentle. When you finally spoke, his head shot up, a look of shock across his face. “It’s not true… It’s not yours, it can’t be. She’s a fucking liar.” You kept your eyes on your hands as your breathing picked up, the bitterness in your tone was evident. “I’m not playing her games anymore, Jake.”
Jake pressed the napkin into your palm and forced your fingers to close around it. “Hold this here, please.” He picked up the rest of the tissues, scattered in the grass surrounding him. “C’mon love. I wanna get you home.” You allowed him to pull you to your feet and help you back into the car. The drive resumed and seemed to drag out, taking too long, when all you wanted was to crawl into bed and wait for this horrible nightmare to end. Jake turned into his spot in the driveway and cut the engine. You didn’t wait for him as you hopped out of the car and stalked up the path to the front porch. You reached for the door knob, forgetting that it was locked. Your keys were left inside, right on the other side of the door, and Jake wasn’t moving fast enough. A frustrated growl roared from your chest as you repeatedly jiggled the knob and slammed your fist on the door. “Hey. Baby, I have the keys…” You couldn’t hear him as your growl evolved into a raging scream that you were sure the neighbors would hear and think you’re a psycho. The gash on your hand started bleeding again from the way your palms slapped against the wood. “Y/N, stop!” He gripped your shoulders, turning you away from the door to face him. Your chest was rising and falling rapidly, a mix of emotions flooding you at once, and you collapsed into him. He held you with one arm, keeping you tucked into his chest as he fumbled with the keys, trying to get inside. Finally, he found the correct key, sliding it into the lock and twisting. He pushed the door open and walked you inside, guiding you into the front hallway. “Let me lock up and we can get settled.” Jake released you, turning around to pull his key from the door. Closing and relocking it, he turned back to you. Having discarded your shoes, you were already gone. He let out a defeated huff, hanging his keys up, and walked further into the house to find you.
He didn’t have to go far. You were curled up on the couch, laying in the fetal position with your hands tucked into your chest and your back to him, hot tears dripping from your eyes. You weren’t necessarily crying, but the emotions needed to drain somehow and this was the least exhausting way to do it. Jake came up behind you, hovering over your slumped form. “Love, let’s go to the bedroom, come on.” His hand was gentle on your arm, slowly rubbing up and down.
You shook your head, wiping at your cheek. “No. I wanna stay here.” Your gaze stayed focused on the back cushions of the couch, staring blankly.
His hand left your arm as he straightened up with a sigh, “Okay. That’s fine, I’ll go get some blankets and-“
“No.” You cut him off abruptly, “I wanna stay here…” You clarified, putting a heavy emphasis on the ‘I’. “You go to bed.”
Jake’s eyes were trained on you, willing you to look at him, but you couldn’t. You knew you were being selfish, knew that he was probably feeling exactly how you were, but your subconscious was telling you that you needed to be alone. That you didn’t deserve his comfort, so you pushed him away and he knew exactly what you were doing, “Y/N, don’t do this…” The hurt was clear in his tone, “Baby, please just come to bed with me. Please.” His voice cracked on the last word and you almost gave in, let yourself have him, let him hold you. But you didn’t.
You squeezed your eyes shut as your lip quivered, “Just go, Jake.” It was a meek mumble as you let out a shaky breath. You heard a sniffle, followed by his footsteps, retreating deeper into the house. The silent sobs started racking in your chest as your thoughts ran wild. Everytime things felt like they were falling back into place, she was there to tear it all apart, again and again. Trapped in an endless, torturous cycle, you had nobody to blame but yourself. This was your punishment, the consequences of your poor decisions that you were finally being forced to reap.
After a while, your body went calm. You still laid in the same position, in the clothes you’d gone out in, welcoming sleep to overtake you. But it never came. Time ticked by and you rolled over to look at the clock on the wall, barely visible in the dark room. The only source of light was from the small wax burner that sat on the mantle above the fireplace. In an attempt to get more comfortable, hoping it would aid in helping you fall asleep, you unbuttoned your jeans, sliding them down and kicking them onto the floor. You yanked the soft throw blanket from the back of the couch and wrapped it around yourself, closing your eyes. Still, you stayed awake. Glancing up at the clock again, it had been 2 hours of you flipping and twisting, trying to force yourself into slumber. Something didn’t feel right. Your body was aching to be near him, to hold him. But you couldn’t bring yourself to go to him, not after how you’d sent him away. You let out a heavy sigh, sitting up and bringing your knees to your chest, hugging them tight. Jake knew you too well, almost like you were a part of him, but you were still surprised when you heard his voice, soft but stern, coming out of the hallway and towards you. “I’m not doing this, Y/N. You can either get up and come to bed with me or we can squeeze together on the couch, I don’t care.” He was standing behind the couch, peering down at you, “But I know you can’t sleep. Not alone. Not after what happened tonight.”
You tilted your head towards him, staring at his hands that rested flat on the back cushions. Allowing your body to fall to the side, you laid your cheek across his left hand, feeling his knuckles against your skin. He brought his right hand up, smoothing it over your hair, before bending to kiss your temple. You closed your eyes at the comforting feeling of his lips. “Okay.” Looking up at him, you finally met his eyes for the first time since you’d left the bar. He looked exhausted, a dejected expression over his face that made your heart ache. “Bed… Please.”
Jake nodded his head without a word. Taking your hands and pulling you up from the couch, he lifted you over the back of it and placed you on your feet. You let him drape an arm around you and lead to the bedroom. He flicked the light on, leaving your side to move to your dresser. He pulled a tank top out and came back, offering it to you. You shook your head, refusing the garment as your eyes flicked to his dresser. A small smirk graced his lips as he walked to his dresser, dropping your shirt on top of it and opening a drawer. He fished around for a few seconds before grasping a t-shirt in his fist. He was in front of you again, holding the shirt up for you to see. The old, faded red one that he was wearing the first time you’d seen him. You thought he’d gotten rid of it. Silly of you to think, considering he never throws his clothes out, still wearing items he’s had since he was a teenager. You bit your lip as a smile formed and nodded. He slung the shirt over his shoulder and twirled his finger, silently telling you to turn around. You obeyed, spinning until your back was to him. He pinched the zipper of your corset top between his fingers and began dragging it down until it fell apart. Jake waited for it to hit the floor and then pulled the tee over your head, letting you slide your arms through the sleeves. When you turned back to face him, he cupped your face with the softest touch and kissed your forehead, leaving his lips to linger for a moment. You hugged him to you, your arms around his bare torso, hands flat on his back. His own arms encased you, holding you firmly. He rocked you to and fro for a long minute and you could’ve fallen asleep right there, but he finally spoke, causing you to look up at him. “Are we gonna talk about it?” He felt you tense against him and immediately regretted opening his mouth.
“Tomorrow. I’m too tired.” You broke away from him and climbed into bed, situating yourself in the middle of the mattress. Jake hit the lights, shrouding the room in complete darkness and came to bed. You waited for him to lay down and curled into him, throwing your leg across him and laying your hand over his heart. He pulled the duvet up and over you before settling his hand on your thigh beneath it, tickling his fingertips over the flesh with a light touch. Your eyes began to close almost instantly and you whispered one last thing to him as you fell into a deep slumber. “I love you no matter what…”
Despite the fact that she was here, snuggled up to you as you’d wished she had been all night, you still couldn’t sleep. Your mind was wide awake, caught on one thing. Reaching over to your nightstand, you grabbed her phone that sat beside yours and unlocked it. You opened the messages, skipping over the few unread threads she had and found the one with Sage’s name on it. You stared at the single message, trying to find some hidden, secret meaning behind it. But it was crisp and clear. ‘I’m pregnant.’ Closing the messages app, you placed the phone on the stand again, careful not to disturb her. You replayed the night in your mind, combing over every fine detail to figure out where you went wrong. The condoms weren’t expired. You made sure to squeeze out any excess air when you put one on. You remembered Y/N, your sweet girl, pulling the rubber from your dick. Nothing was leaking from it. She would have noticed if it had broken. It had to be a lie. Sage was conniving. She’s proven it on more than one occasion, at this point. But you still couldn’t figure out why she would go to these lengths or what she truly wanted.
You were pulled from your thoughts when she shifted against you. A sleepy hum grumbled from her throat as she turned over. Her back was to you now, but she stayed pressed into your side, always sure to have contact while she slept. Even nights when she was angry with you or you with her, which was rare, she couldn’t resist skin to skin. Letting her toes linger on your legs or her fingertips graze yours from the opposite side of the bed. It was her way of saying ‘even though I’m upset, I still love you.’ No matter what. You rolled over, fitting with the contour of her body, and pulled her as close to you as you could get her. She stirred briefly, her left hand coming to grasp yours where it rested on her soft belly. You could feel the cool metal of the ring on your skin, causing a smile to ghost over your lips. Pressing a kiss to her shoulder, you nuzzled your nose into her hair, breathing her in as you finally dozed.
9:31am
The morning came along with an empty bed as you slid your palm over the surface, searching for her. Rain was violently beating down on the window. A loud crack of thunder shook the house and you opened your eyes, digging your knuckles into them to rid of the sleep that lingered. Taking a moment to stretch your limbs and allow your body to wake up, you wondered where she might be. Did she leave? She wasn’t supposed to work today. You looked to your left, seeing her phone on your nightstand, right where you left it. So she was home. Tossing the comforter from your body, you swung your legs off of the bed and stood, sliding on a pair of sweatpants. You stalked out of the bedroom, making a beeline for the kitchen when something stopped you. Turning to look down the hall at the closed bathroom door, you stepped closer, holding your breath to listen. To be sure you heard what you thought you did. When you got close enough, you pressed your ear to the door, careful to not make any noise that would alert her of your presence on this side. She’s sick again… You backed away from the door and headed into the kitchen. Filling the electric kettle, you plugged it in to heat up and moved to the cabinet above the coffee pot. You dug through it, sifting through all the teas she kept stocked in there. You pulled the peppermint and the ginger, both great for nausea, but you were unsure of which she’d prefer. Looking back and forth between the two boxes, you were startled when she walked into the room, greeting you with a quiet ‘good morning.’ You turned to look at her, her face pale and hair tied into a tangled knot on top of her head. “Good morning, love. I was gonna make you some tea.” You held the two options up to her, “Didn’t know which one you’d want.”
Her eyes darted back and forth between the boxes and went back to your face, “Did you hear me in there?” Her voice was quiet, shy, almost. “I’m sorry, I-“
You drew your brows together, “Don’t be sorry. You can’t help it if you’re sick.” Dropping the boxes to the counter, you slipped around the island and padded towards her. You took her face in your hands, looking over her as you swiped the thin, wispy hairs from her clammy skin. “You think you caught a bug?”
She gave her head a gentle shake, “I think it’s just the stress from everything. I don’t know…” Her hands came up to grip your sides, a pained look scribbled across her features. She dropped her eyes to the floor, “We have to talk about it now, Jake…”
“I know, my love.” Your voice matched her somber tone as you said it. “Let me make you tea first and we’ll sit, yeah?”
“Peppermint, no sugar. Please.”
Your hand went to the back of her neck, pulling her forward to peck her forehead. “Whatever you want, baby.” Walking back to the counter, you picked up the box of peppermint, pulling two teabags out and resting them in the awaiting mug.
“Thank you, lover.” She turned on her heels, walking out of the kitchen. While you waited for the kettle, you fixed yourself a cup of coffee, desperate for the caffeine to get you through this conversation. You finished your cup just as the electric kettle beeped, telling you it was done. Just as you began pouring the steaming water over the teabags, she came back into the kitchen, carrying the throw blanket from the couch. You watched as she went for the back door, stopping to look at you. “I wanna enjoy the storm a bit.” She answered your questioning stare.
You offered a warm smile. She did always love a good thunderstorm. “I’ll be out in a minute, just finishing up your cup.” You waited for her to slip out the door before putting the teas away and cleaning up the small water spill on the counter. Picking up the two mugs, you made your way outside to find her stretched out on the swing on the far side of the covered patio. The rain echoed off of the roof, a bright flash of lightning flickering through the dark clouds.
She pulled her legs up to make room for you to sit as you handed her the hot cup of tea. Once you settled onto the swing, she extended her legs again, draping them over you. You sipped from your mug, resting your free hand on her thigh. The wind blew and her skin erupted with goosebumps. She shook the blanket out with one hand, “It’s chilly this morning… Can you cover my feet, baby?” You gave her your coffee to hold and took the blanket from her, stretching it over her legs and making sure her feet were wrapped up.
A comfortable silence fell over the two of you as you stared out to the yard, watching the heavy drops hit the ground, a few bolts of lightning streaking the sky every now and then. It felt so peaceful. Everything always felt peaceful with her. She just had that effect. Being in her presence like this, it was like being tucked in by your mom as a kid after she’d read you a story. Like putting your feet on solid ground after a roller coaster ride. Safe. She was your safe space, your comfort. You looked at her, catching her profile as she gazed out at the horizon. She looked absolutely serene and you felt a sharp pain in your chest, knowing that you were about to rip her from her tranquil state. “Y/N…” Her head turned to you, a faint smile on her lips, “Do you think-“
Her smile dropped in a split second, replaced by a grimace as she looked back out to the distant trees. “I don’t.” She took a gulp of tea, turning back to you. “I know that condom didn’t break. So unless there’s something you’re not telling me, which I highly doubt… It’s not possible.” She shrugged, seemingly done with the topic, but you could see she was deep in her thoughts.
“Talk to me, love. Tell me what you’re thinking.” You gave her a leg a gentle squeeze to let her know you were all ears.
She took in a deep breath, letting it out in a sigh. “She’s not…crazy enough to get…” You watched as she shook her head, pulling her thoughts together. “She wouldn’t get pregnant just to say it’s yours…would she?”
You took her hand, trying to be as reassuring as possible, “Even if she is pregnant, it’s not mine, it has nothing to do with us. We can just bury this all in the past where it belongs.”
“Jake, she could go public with this.” She looked scared, suddenly. “If she starts telling people that she’s pregnant and that it’s yours… With the tour coming up? You know how everyone speculates, how they draw their own conclusions.”
She had a point and now you were worried too. You kept a calm demeanor, attempting to stay composed. “Even if it came to that, we can do tests, right? Prove she’s lying? That it’s not mine?” You took great care in keeping your life off stage very private. The idea of that changing had you clenching your jaw in anger. How would that make you look? People, fans believing that you would step out on Y/N. How would it make her look?
“I won’t let it come to that. I need to talk to her.” She pulled her legs from your lap and leaned into you, snuggling into your side. Using your feet on the ground, you pushed gently, allowing the swing to rock you both. “I’m gonna talk to her, Jake.” She said it with finality.
You wrapped your arm around her, rubbing her back softly, “We’re not gonna let it put a rift between us.” She sipped from her mug, nodding in agreement as she listened. “I’ll do whatever I have to make sure that doesn’t happen.” The silence was back, nothing but the sounds of rain and thunder around you. After a bit, the thunder drifted, echoing in the distance as the downpour slowed to a mere sprinkle. Her body was limp in your hold, her hand barely holding on to the cup of tea. You placed your empty mug beside you on the swing and carefully took hers. “Hey, are you sleeping?” You whispered, not wanting to wake her if she was.
“Hmmm. No…” The sleep was heavy in her voice, telling you that she was, in fact, drifting off. She lifted her head and you caught sight of her droopy eyelids and flushed cheeks.
You pressed the back of your hand to her forehead and then her cheek. “You feel okay, baby?” Her skin was warm, but not too warm.
She sat up, rubbing her hands over her face, “Yeah…I think I’m gonna go lay down for a bit.” She leaned in, giving you a single kiss and pushed the blanket from her legs. You kept an eye on her as she stalked back into the house. It was odd, she never napped this early in the day… Chalking it up to the stress, as she’d said earlier, you let her go. You stayed outside a little longer, but when the rain finally stopped, you picked up the two cups and the blanket, walking back inside. After putting everything back in its place, you went down the hallway, peeking in the bedroom to find her sound asleep under the thick duvet. You pulled the door shut, leaving just a small crack and went into the spare room. With a deep sigh, you pulled your phone out of your pocket and dropped into the leather chair, clicking Josh’s contact. As it began to ring, you sat back, thinking of how you were going to avoid the inevitable mess coming your way.
Rolling over onto Jake’s side of the bed, you groaned, stretching your body out. The room was bathed in a warm glow, letting you know that the storm was long gone. Your hand traveled across the bed, finding your phone that was tucked beneath a pillow. It was after 1pm. You’d slept for a lot longer than you intended and you weren’t even sure why you were so tired to begin with. Dragging yourself from the bed, you had your mind set on a hot shower, but as you pulled the bedroom door open, a savory aroma coaxed you towards the kitchen. When you came around the corner of the kitchen doorway, you found Jake standing over the stove. “What are you making? It smells so good.” You came up behind him, looking over his shoulder into the cast iron skillet.
He half turned, pulling you into his side, giving you a better view of the food, “It’s just veggie stir fry.” You felt him kiss the top of your head before continuing, “You hungry, love? It’s almost done.” He stirred the various vegetables around the pan, wafting the scent throughout the room.
Reaching your fingers into the pan, you plucked out a steaming snap pea and popped it in your mouth. “I’m starving.” You mumbled around the food and went in for another piece but Jake caught your wrist.
“Baby, it’s hot.” He laughed as you fought out of his grip and grabbed a pepper. “Two more minutes, Y/N. Give me two minutes and I’ll have a plate for you.” He playfully shoved your shoulder and you pouted your lip at him, only to be met with a smirk and a shrug from him. You stomped your foot with a loud huff and went to the island behind Jake, hoisting yourself up to sit on the marbled countertop. The growling in your stomach was becoming more intense as you waited. You watched Jake stir the food a few more times before he cut the burner off and went to grab dishes. He looked so domestic. Hair pulled into a low bun, tiny tendrils falling free around his face. Loose, black linen pants with a lightweight shirt, only a few shades lighter. Of course he left the top couple buttons open, revealing his smooth chest, adorned with his staple Atocha coin hanging from his neck. He stood in front of you now, holding the plate he’d prepared for you. You took it out of his hands and placed it beside you on the counter. “Need silverware, love.” He pointed to the drawer that was blocked by your dangling legs.
“Ask nicely…” You gave him an expectant look with the raise of your eyebrows. Jake didn’t say anything, just grabbed your knees and pushed them apart, spreading them far enough for him to pull the drawer open and grab two forks. He pushed the drawer shut, stepping closer to you and fitting himself between your legs, looking up at you with a smug expression. He was so incredibly handsome, so sweet. Your hands came up to hold his face, so warm, as you gazed down into his mesmerizing brown eyes. He dropped the forks to the countertop and brought his hands to your hips with the softest touch. You pulled him in, lowering your mouth to his in a gentle kiss, pouring your heart into it. You could only hope that he felt your love, and you were sure he did because you could feel his. Felt it in the way his fingers squeezed into your skin, the way his pillowy lips moved against yours or how he inched closer until your chests were pressed so closely that you could’ve sworn your separate hearts were beating as one. The kiss carried on for a minute, but when you finally broke away and opened your eyes, they landed on the teardrop sitting on your ring finger. A smile tugged at your lips as you pulled your hands from his face. “Do I really get to marry you, Jacob?” You traced over the ring with your thumb before Jake took your hand in his.
He brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles and then one to the diamond. “Only if you really want to… No pressure.” He pinched your side, forcing a yelp out of you as you giggled.
You stared up at the ceiling, scratching your chin and pretending to be deep in thought. “I mean, I guess that wouldn’t be the worst thing.” You dropped your eyes back to him, a giant grin over your face, “I can’t think of anything I want more, baby.” You pecked his lips swiftly before pushing him away and picking up your plate. “Except maybe this food…” Gathering a forkful of veggies, you took a bite as Jake turned back to the stove to get his own plate while grumbling a smart remark under his breath. He came back and leaned against the island, eating his food. You ate in silence, enjoying the delicious lunch that Jake had taken his time to prepare. After you finished, you hopped off of the countertop and padded to the sink, rinsing the dish off. “That was fucking perfect, baby.” You turned to face him, rubbing your hand over your tummy, “You should quit your day job and become a homebody, spend your time cooking for me. You’d make such a great stay-at-home dad. Taking care of the laundry and the kids and-” You stopped, realizing what you’d just said as Jake’s blew wide. Fucking idiot. You wanted to slap yourself for not thinking before opening your mouth. “Jake, that’s not- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like-“ He looked away from you, staring into space as he sucked his lips in. “It was just supposed to be a joke, I wasn’t thinking about her…” Your voice was small as you spoke.
He looked back at you then, “That’s not something to joke about, Y/N…Not in this situation.” He pushed off of the counter and moved past you to put his plate in the sink.
“Jake, baby…” You put your hands on his waist but he pulled out of your hold, turning to face you.
“No. Do you realize how quickly this could ruin my life? My career?” He rubbed his hand aggressively over his face, but softened his tone, “I’m trying to stay calm and collected about this, for you, but I’m stressed out too… This affects both of us, I get that, but I think I have a little more that’s at risk here. This isn’t a joke.”
You recoiled at his statement, taking a few steps away from him. “You don’t think I understand how bad this can get?” You shook your head with an incredulous laugh. “I know how negatively something like that would affect your career, but to say it would ruin your life? Our life? That’s a bit egregious, Jake…” He didn’t mean it the way you took it, but you were still bubbling with anger. You began to walk away, but stopped and turned back to him. “And for the record, I meant our kids. Not you and fucking Sage. Is that so bad to imagine? Having a fucking family with me? Or would that ruin your life too?” Your voice was echoing in the kitchen. You weren’t sure when you started yelling or why, but your mood did a full 180 from the state of happiness you were in just moments ago. Jake opened his mouth to respond but you were already stalking out of the room.
He followed closely behind you and you tried to slam the bathroom door shut before he could make it in but he stopped it, slapping his palm against the wood. “Don’t walk away from me, Y/N.” His voice was still calm, but there was a certain edge to it. “You know damn well that I didn’t mean it like that.” You moved from the door, allowing him to push into the bathroom. He stared at you, standing in the middle of the room with your arms crossed over chest. “I’m at a high point in my career, you know that! Having kids isn’t in the plan, we never talked about that.”
“Can you just go, I wanna shower…” You were shooting daggers at him but he stayed planted. “Jake, GET OUT!” You pointed to the doorway behind him.
He dug the heels of his palms into his eyes, clearly aggravated, but he kept the same even tone, “What is going on with you? How did this turn into a screaming match? Love, I don’t wanna fight with you.”
You dropped your head into your hands, “I don’t know. I just-” Your voice cracked, giving away the fact that you were about to start crying. “I know babies aren’t in the plan, but- Jake, as slim as the chance may be… The possibility that someone could have your first child and it’s not me…” You trailed off as the tears began to fall.
Jake closed the gap between you and lifted your chin, forcing you to look at him, “Y/N, there’s no babies. No kids. Put that out of your head, focus on this.” He gestured between the two of you, “Forget what I said about my life being ruined. As far as my career goes, my fans and my family will support me no matter what… But as long as you’re in my life, nothing could ruin it.” He brushed his thumb across your cheek, wiping away a tear.
You sniffled, nodding your head, “Okay.” Using the back of your hand, you scrubbed at your face, clearing the rest of the tears. “I’m sorry… I don’t know why I’m crying.” You laughed quietly through more sniffles.
“These mood swings are giving me whiplash, baby.” He pulled you into a hug as you laughed a little harder, “God, you drive me crazy…”
Jake joined you for your shower, but now that it was done, he had left. He had a meeting with his brothers and told you it would probably turn into a late practice. You took a bit of time to clean up the house and catch up on the laundry that was accumulating. By the time you settled into the couch to find something to watch on tv, it was almost 6pm. You clicked the power button on the remote, and the tv lit up, already in the middle of a movie. Pitch Perfect. You allowed it to play, enjoying the humor and the music in it. It came to the scene of the riff off and the main guy started singing ‘Feels Like the First Time,” instantly sending you into a flashback. You and Sage winding and grinding in the middle of the bar while the song played loudly over the speakers. The night you’ve been wishing you could erase from existence for weeks now. You shut the tv off and tossed the remote to the opposite side of the couch. Picking your phone up, you released a deep breath and opened up her text thread. You stared at the last message she’d sent for a few seconds before finally bringing up the keyboard and typing.
You 6:08pm: i would appreciate the chance to talk to you about this.
You 6:09pm: in person.
You waited for a reply that wasn’t coming as your messages stayed on ‘delivered.’ You dropped your phone to the couch, ready to just call it a night and climb into bed, when you heard the notification chime. Snatching the phone up, you fumbled to unlock it, but it wasn’t Sage.
Odessa 6:17pm: i’m bored. you wanna come over for a movie night? i have wine😏
You giggled at the message, typing out a reply.
You 6:18pm: putting on my jammies and RUNNING. be there soon with snacks😘
Jumping up from the sofa, you waltzed to your bedroom and changed into your comfiest sweatpants and a cropped tank top. You made a quick pit stop in the pantry to grab a few bags of chips and some candies and chocolate, stuffing it all into a tote bag. You walked out of the house, locked the door behind you and got into your car. Starting the engine, you made sure to send Jake a text, letting him know what you were doing, and began your drive to Odessa’s.
Rush hour traffic had died down almost completely though the city, so the ride didn’t take long at all. As you pulled up in front of the house, she was already bounding down the walkway to meet you. “Babe, you got here so fast! Do you need help with anything?”
You climbed out of the car with the tote bag and closed the door. “No, I don’t need help, Dess.” She pulled you into a tight hug and yanked you up the path to the front door. Once inside, you slid your shoes off and turned to Odessa holding the bag up, “Where do you want this? I brought a variety.”
She leaned over the bag, peering into it, “Oooooh. Just take it straight up to my room, I have the bed made up for us.” She pointed towards the staircase as she began walking in the opposite direction, “I’m gonna grab the wine and I’ll be right up.” You watched as she disappeared through a doorway and followed her instructions to head upstairs. You stepped into her and Danny’s bedroom, illuminated with twinkling fairy light around the perimeter of the ceiling. Very on brand for Odessa. The was littered with pillows and blankets, way more than just the two of you would ever use, but she was nothing if not an overachiever. You chuckled to yourself at the sight and dropped the bag to the bed. “Why are you just standing here? Get comfortable!” Her voice startled you as she came into the room.
You threw your hands up, “I don’t know where you want to sit! I was waiting for you.”
She moved to the bed, placing the bottle of wine and two stemless glasses on the nightstand beside it. “I don’t care, babe. Sit wherever you want and I will find my place around you.” She popped the cork and poured the deep red liquid into the cups.
You crawled on the bed, crossing your legs beneath you and sat down just as she offered you a glass, “Thank you, hun!” Odessa climbed into the bed next to you, pulling a pillow into her lap. You took a sip of the wine and turned to her, “So what are we gonna watch?”
She picked the remote up, pointing it at the tv, “What are you in the mood for? Something scary? Action packed with some shirtless, hunky men?” You laughed as she wiggled her eyebrows at you. “You’re probably looking for something romantic, huh? The Proposal… The Wedding Planner… Bridesmaids…”
“Dess!” Your grin grew so large it was almost painful, “Ughh. I still can’t believe it.” Setting your cup on the nightstand, you fell backwards, letting your head hit the pillows, and held your hand in the air above you, gazing at the ring.
Odessa followed you, laying down and staring up at your hand. Her head was leaning into yours as she grabbed your hand, pulling it closer to her face, “My GOD, this is gorgeous! I wanna eat it!” Her finger traced around the shape of the stone. “Daniel better have explosions and fireworks when he decides to put a ring on it, because Jake set the bar high.” She paused for a beat before dropping your hand, “You guys left so fast last night, I didn’t get a chance to really gush over it.”
You sat up abruptly, “Uhhh, yeah.” She shot up after you, giving you a questioning look. “So, I got this text last night… That’s why we ran out of there…” You picked your phone up from the bed and opened the messages then handed it to her. Her eyes went wide as she read it, drifting up to you and then back at the phone.
“This is- I mean, no? Right?” She stammered through her words as she processed the single text.
You shrugged, “I- We don’t think it’s true. Jake had a condom on, and it wasn’t broken so…”
Odessa dropped your phone to the bed, “Y/N, the tiniest pinhole in a condom can make all the difference… Are you sure there-“
“No. Dess, there’s no way. She’s- She just-“ You couldn’t get your mouth to form a proper sentence as the now familiar nausea started in your stomach. “I tried to get her to talk to me… She won’t answer my text.” Raking a hand through your hair, you took a composing breath, “Jake is freaked. He hides it well, but I know him… Me? In my heart, I don’t believe her, not for a second. She’s done nothing but manipulate me since I met her and I think it all goes back to this weird obsession she has with my boyfriend.”
“Fiancée.” Odessa corrected in a taunting tone, instantly lightening the mood. “If you don’t think she’s being real, then she probably isn’t. Shit, she was my best friend and I’m realizing that I didn’t know her at all.” She shrugged, picking her wine up to take a drink. “But as far as talking to her goes, I bet I could get her to come here, if you want me to?”
“If you think she’ll come, yeah. Do it, text her.”
She grabbed her phone from the nightstand and you watched as she began typing, brows pulled together in concentration. “I asked her to come over for a movie night, told her I missed her.” She hit the send button and you both waited quietly for a response. Her phone vibrated almost immediately and she scanned the screen. “She’ll be here in a half hour. What are you gonna say to her?”
“Well, I can’t flat out ask her if it’s true.” You looked down at your hands, poking at the fresh cut on your palm. “She’s just gonna stand in front of me and tell me that she’s pregnant, lie or not. I don’t have a way to prove her wrong.”
Odessa’s eyes squinted as if she was thinking hard, “I might have an idea…” She didn’t elaborate, just hopped up from the bed and walked into the en suite bathroom. When she didn’t come back right away, you followed her trail to find her rummaging through drawers. Her hands landed on a box and she pulled it out, closing the drawer. “This could work.” She shrugged, holding up a box of pregnancy tests.
“Dess, why do you have those laying around? Are you-?” You watched as she shook her head, a horrified look on her face.
She placed the box on the sink and walked back into the bedroom, explaining as she went. “As I said, condoms aren’t always reliable… Sometimes they break on me and Danny. I just like to be prepared, yanno?” She shrugged as she sat back on the bed. “I don’t wanna wait until I’m violently vomiting and angry all the time with raging hormones to find out if I’m pregnant.”
You climbed back into your spot on the bed as well, picking up your wine to take a few sips. “You don’t use birth control?”
Odessa was digging through the bag of snacks that you’d brought as she answered your question. “Nope. I took the pills when I was younger, but they had a lot of negative effects on my body.” She grabbed the bag of BBQ chips and broke them open, popping one into her mouth. “I didn’t think it was worth it, so I stopped. And I know there’s different forms of it now, but Danny, he and I are always careful.”
The smell of the potato chips wafted in your face as she reached back into the bag. You couldn’t hide the grimace on your face, “Eww. Those smell wretched, Dess.” You pushed her hand away from you to get away from the scent.
She gave you a look of confusion, “What do you mean? They taste so good!” She held a chip up to your face, waving it around, “What’s wrong with them?” A gag crept up your throat and you clamped your hand over your mouth to stop anything that might come up with it. Odessa dropped the chip back into the bag and rolled it up, moving it far away from you to the nightstand. “Fuck, babe. Are you pregnant?” She joked, laughing softly.
“What? No. I’m not pr-“ You shook your head a little too fast and Odessa noticed.
“Y/N… Are you?” She eyed you cautiously now, eyebrows raised high.
You shook your head again, a bit slower this time. “No… I’m on birth control, there’s no way.” You were convincing yourself more than her. After the way Jake reacted at the mention of babies earlier? You couldn’t be.
She moved her head, forcing you to catch her eyes, “Babe, that’s still not 100% effective if you forget to take it…”
“I get the Depo shots. No room for error or forgetting.” You looked down at your phone, “I should have an appointment coming up, actually.” You scanned your calendar for a posted appointment date, but nothing was there. A feeling of dread crept through your body as you scrolled up, sifting through past weeks. “Fuck.”
“What?” Odessa leaned in, peeking over your phone screen to find what you were looking at. “Fill me in here, I’m lost.”
You opened your mouth and closed it a few times, unable to gather your thoughts. “I missed my appointment in June…” Your eyes darted back and forth, trying to come up with an explanation as to how you could be so careless. “I- It must’ve been when everyone was on vacation… I was working so much, barely even thought to eat most days…” You pushed your hands into your hair, balling them up into fists. “I can’t be. Jake, he- This can’t happen, it’s so wrong.”
Your breathing became labored, a tight feeling constricting your chest. “Hey, Y/N, just relax.” Odessa was rubbing her hand down your back in a soothing manner, “Don’t freak out until you know for sure. And you have options to decide what’s best for the both of you. Either way, Jake will understand, I’m sure.”
“No, he won’t. He- Fuck, I’ve been so sick lately and I-” You stood form the bed, looking back on the past couple of days as you paced back and forth. “He’ll be so mad… He doesn’t want…this…” You stopped, motioning to your belly.
“Okay, babe.” Odessa was at your side, holding your shoulders. “Let’s get you some peace of mind and we’ll go from there, alright?” She took your hand, pulling you back towards the bathroom. She released you as you crossed over the threshold and went to the sink to pick up the box, pulling the plastic package out of it. “Come here.”
You took slow steps towards her as she ripped the wrapper open, revealing the stick inside. “Dess, I don’t think I wanna know.” You hugged your arms around yourself, trying to contain your anxiety. “And what about Sage? When she gets here… the test?”
She shook her head, “There’s two more in the box, don’t worry about her right now.” She grabbed your hand again, placing the stick in your palm. “You know how to use this?” All you could muster was a slight nod. “Honey, if you don’t want to do this, you don’t have to… But I’ll give you a few minutes alone to decide, okay?”
She patted your shoulder softly and moved around you to exit the bathroom, “Odessa, wait…” You caught her hand before it dropped from your arm. “Just stay with me? Please?”
Her smile was warm and comforting as she turned back to you, “Of course, babe.”
You took a deep inhale, blowing the air out in a gust as you shuffled to the toilet, slid your pants down and sat. Odessa gave you a reassuring nod and you pulled the blue cap from the stick as you started to pee. Your hands were shaking and you tried to keep them as steady as you could while placing the test between your legs to catch the stream. You held it for a few seconds before pulling it back and clicking the cap back over it. Your stomach was in knots as you finished, standing up and moving to the sink. You put the test facedown and washed your hands, feeling slightly dizzy. “I feel like I’m gonna pass out…”
“You do look a little pale, hun.” She swiped the hair from your neck, “I’m gonna go grab you some water, just sit down for a minute.” You watched her walk out of the bathroom and slid to the floor, listening to her footsteps descending the staircase. The minutes seemed to tick by in slow motion, stretching out and filling you with more dread as they passed. You rubbed your hands over your pant legs, trying to wipe away the sweat that was accumulating on your palms, but it was no use. Were you ready to be a mom? Your mind went to Jake. If this test did come back positive, how could you tell him? Would he even want you anymore? You pushed the negative thoughts way out of your head and stood up. You stared at the stick, laying upside down, obstructing the view of the small screen. The thing that held the weight of your future within a single word or two. You waited for Odessa to come back, not wanting to be alone when you flipped the test over to reveal the results, but several minutes had passed and she hadn’t returned. You grasped the stick in your fist and held it tight as you walked out of the room, heading for the stairs. Just as you reached the top of them, a voice halted you in your tracks.
“Dess, you’re my best friend… You’re supposed to be on my side.”
You listened intently, trying to hear Odessa’s response. “I want to believe that you’re not this twisted, Sage. But what you did… what you’re doing… It’s sick.”
“I didn’t do anything! Y/N is putting shit in your head! Manipulating you the same way she does Jake!” You almost went barrelling down the steps, but Odessa was at your defense.
“Don’t you dare! She would never, Sage.” Her voice held a threatening tone that you’d never heard from her before. “You need to let this go. Let this fucking obsession you have with him go…”
“Odessa…”
“Sage, STOP!” As long as you’ve known Odessa, you have never heard her raise her voice like this, not out of anger. She was always such a peaceful person. “You’re not actually pregnant, are you? This is just a fucking game to you, isn’t it? God, that’s despicable.” The disdain was clear in her tone.
You inched closer, moving down a few steps as Sage’s voice rang out aggressively, “You don’t know what you’re talking about! This is all-”
She cut Sage off, spitting her words with venom, “Then come upstairs. Take a test and fucking prove it to me! Stop trying to tear their lives apart!”
“I don’t have to prove anything to you or anyone! This is between me and Jake!”
You were rushing down the stairs in a fury now. Odessa was countering as you were rounding the corner into the kitchen where they stood. “Give it up, Sage! Jake will never want you! They’re getting married for Christ's sake!” She had her hands on her head as if the conversation was driving her mad. “You’re acting insane! You can’t actually think that he wants anything to do with you?!”
“That’s not true, Odessa…and I’m not crazy.” The floor creaked as you came into view and Sage’s eyes immediately connected with yours before falling to your hand, catching a glimpse of the ring. “No… I don’t believe that, it’s not real.” She shook her head, meeting your stare. “I know he wants to be with me, you’re just in the way.” Her voice was quiet now as she eyed you with disgust.
“You’re out of your fucking mind, Sage. You need serious psychological help.” It took everything for you to stay collected when all you wanted was to pounce across the kitchen and slap the look off of her face. “Cut the goddamn act and get a fucking grip!” You didn’t realize that you were waving your hands around, but Sage did.
She locked onto the pregnancy test, gripped tightly in your right fist. “What the fuck is that?” She pointed to the stick, taking a few strides closer to you. “What the fuck is that?” She repeated the question, now only foot in front of you.
Entirely fed up with her, you held the test up, finally staring down at the small screen. A huff of disbelief left your mouth with a wicked smirk as you looked back to her, “Well…One of us is pregnant.” You shoved the test into her chest, prompting her to grab it, “And I think we both know it’s not you.”
She stared at the stick for a moment and when she looked back up, she was seething. “No. No, it doesn’t matter.” You watched her toss it to the floor, “It’s not his… It’s probably Sam’s. I know you’ve been sleeping with him and Jake knows it too! I made sure of that!”
“So it was you. Those messages, the picture? That fucking video?” The back of your hand cracked across her face before you could stop it. “You scheming little tramp! What were you hoping to achieve with that, huh?”
Sage’s hands shot out, shoving you in the chest, “Don’t fucking touch me!” She was moving by you as you stumbled, slightly. “He’ll see right through it.” Her finger pointed at your stomach. “And when he does, he’ll come to me.” She was out of the kitchen and heading for the door.
You gained your footing and started after her but Odessa stopped you, “Let her go, babe. She’s a psycho.” The front door slammed shut and you were breathing hard, trying to process everything that just happened. When you were quiet for a minute, the concern was clear in Odessa’s voice. “Are you okay, Y/N?”
“No… I don’t think I am.” You swallowed the sickness rising in your throat. “I’m pregnant.” Your palm went to your belly.
“Oh, hun.” She led you over to the breakfast nook in the corner and sat you on the bench, “Everything is gonna be okay.” She spoke so gently, “I don’t know how you’re feeling right now, but I do know that this is heavy news for anyone to receive. Everything you’re feeling is valid”
You chewed on your lip as you began crying, “How am I gonna tell Jake? He-” Your body shook with shuddering breaths, “The mention of a baby alone sent him into a spiral. He doesn’t want-” There was no way he would have a positive reaction to this. “I can’t do this if it means losing him, Dess.” The thought made your heart hurt.
“Y/N, I told you, you have options.” She was kneeling in front of you, rubbing your knee, “But you can’t properly weigh those options until you talk to Jake first.” A sob ripped from your chest and she moved to sit beside you, hugging you to her. “I know you’re scared, babe… But you have to give that boy more credit.” She laid her cheek on your head, running her hand over your hair in an attempt to calm you, “He is absolutely and entirely in love with you, nothing can change that. No matter what he’s said about the subject before, he’s gonna have a different opinion now that it’s for real.”
You tried to take her words into consideration, but there was still a nagging feeling in the back of your mind that this was going to end in disaster. “I don’t- I can’t be- the-” You hiccuped through your sobs, trying to get your thoughts out, “I can’t be the… r-reason that h-”
“Shh. Just calm down for a minute, babe. Breathe.” You closed your eyes, listening to her soft, sweet voice coax you into a state of tranquility. When you finally relaxed into her, she spoke up again, a hint of a smile in the way she talked, “For the record, I think you’d be a badass mom…”
A chuckle tumbled from your mouth as you pulled away from her, wiping your eyes. “Thank you, Dess. For comforting me, for standing up to Sage.” You flung your arms around her, “For everything. You’re really the best friend anyone could ask for.” She hugged you back, telling you that she loved you. “I love you too… I should go get my phone and see if Jake is still at the studio.” You pointed upstairs as you stood from the bench. She gave you a nod and you turned to head out of the kitchen. As you walked into the bedroom, your phone was already ringing. You dug around on the bed, trying to find it in the pile of pillows and blankets. When you finally found it, a number you didn’t recognize was on the screen. Swiping the green button, you answered, “Hello?”
A man’s voice came through the other end, “Hi. Is this Y/N Y/L/N?”
“Uhh, yeah, this is her… Who is calling?”
He cleared his throat, “This is Matt. I own the garage space that you rent.” There was a pause before he continued, “Something- Uhh… The garage caught on fire.”
“I’m sorry, what?” You felt like you couldn’t process what he was saying. “The garage caught on fire? No… My food truck, it-”
He cut you off, “Fire department is here now, they got the fire out but-”
“But what?” Your mouth was dry as you tried to swallow your panic. “Is the truck okay? What’s the-”
“You’d better just get down here to survey the damage, I’m not sure how bad it is…”
You hung up the phone and rushed down the steps, fumbling to get your shoes on. Odessa heard the commotion and came out of the kitchen with a grin, “You rushing off to share the news?” Her face dropped when she saw your frazzled appearance. “Babe, what happened?”
“There was a fire at the garage. I- Fuck.” You dug through your purse for your keys. “They don’t know if the truck was damaged. I gotta go.” Your hands caught a key ring, pulling them from the bag.
Odessa was sliding her shoes on now, “Shit, let me go get my keys, I’ll follow you down there.” She went back to the kitchen in a hurry, returning seconds later with her own keys in hand. “Come on.” She ushered you out the door, pulling it shut behind her.
She broke away from you, moving towards her car in the driveway to your right as you jogged down the path to get into your own car. You started it up, your hands trembling harder than they’ve been all night, and pulled out on the street, making your way towards the city. You drove in silence, praying to any God that would listen for the truck to be unscathed. In light of everything going on, all the uncertainties that could bring your life down in shambles, this was something you couldn’t fathom. Next to losing Jake, losing the business that you’ve worked so hard to build would be the worst thing that could happen to you. Your eyes flashed to the rear view mirror, spotting Odessa’s headlights as she trailed behind you. You were flying down the road, only minutes away from the garage at this point. It felt like you caught every single red light through the city as you came to it. Sitting at a light, you thought about calling Jake, asking him to meet you at the garage. If it was as bad as you felt it might be, Jake would be the only thing that could keep you together. Just as you reached for the phone, the light turned green. You put your hand back on the wheel and moved your foot from the brake, pressing the gas. There were two more lights before the turn to the garage and you willed them to stay green, to just let you pass without hindrance. Coming up on the second to last light, it was red and as you tapped the brake, preparing to stop, it changed to green and you hit the gas, accelerating towards it. You were coasting through the intersection when you turned your head, catching a pair of headlights coming at you from the left. There was no time to react before the sudden impact sent your car rolling and, in the blink of an eye, everything went black.
You could feel your phone vibrating in your pocket. Placing the pick between your teeth, you dug it from your pocket, observing the name on the screen. You put your guitar down, resting it in the stand and spit the pick into your palm. “Daniel, why is your girlfriend calling me?”
He shrugged, pulling his own phone from his pocket, “I don’t know, maybe I missed her call? Isn’t Y/N with her? Maybe it’s her calling?”
That thought hadn’t crossed your mind. You slid the green icon and brought the phone up to your ear, “Hello?”
“Jake? Can you hear me?”
You tried to hide your disappointment at the sound of Odessa’s voice rather than your girl’s. “Odessa? Yeah, what’s up?”
Something about her tone made you feel uneasy, “Uhh… It ummm.” She was panicking, “It’s Y/N, Jake… There was an accident, she-”
“What do you mean? What kind of accident, Odessa?” Your voice was shaking, “Where is she, let me talk to her.” Your brothers were all standing around you now, trying to find out what was going on.
“She can’t- Jake, she’s not-” You could hear her crying through the phone as she stuttered.
“No. Don’t fucking tell me- Where. Is. She?” Josh was whispering something to you, but all you could focus on were the sounds of sirens on Odessa’s end.
She sniffled, and took a breath, “They’re taking her to the hospital… It’s bad, Jake. Really bad.” She paused, like she was holding something back. “She’s- Oh God…” All you could hear were her heavy sobs now.
A sick feeling was rippling through your insides, your voice felt far away as you spoke, “She’s what? Odessa, tell me what the fuck happened!” Danny put his hand on your shoulder, telling you to bring your tone down but you shrugged him off. You moved around the studio, gathering your things in a frenzy when Odessa’s voice finally came back.
“It was Sage… She hit her and the car rolled. It all happened so fast, I don’t know…She was unconscious when they took her.”
You froze, feeling lightheaded, “Which hospital?” Her cries were back and you could tell she was trying to calm herself to answer you, but your patience was gone at this point, “Which fucking hospital, Odessa?!” You felt yourself flinch at your harsh tone as she mumbled out the name of the hospital. “I’m going now.”
“Jake, wait!” She yelled before you could hang up, when she realized you were still on the line, she continued, “Y/N, she- s-she’s pregnant, Jake.”
Your hand dropped from your ear, taking the phone with it. The world stopped spinning and you stopped with it, frozen in place as her last word sunk in. Josh was in front of you, gently shaking your shoulders, “Jake! Look at me!” Your eyes focused on him, “What happened to Y/N?”
“I have to go, I gotta get to the hospital, she’s-” You tried to move past him, but he held onto you. “Josh, let me go, I have to-”
“Jake, let one of us drive you, you’re not getting behind the wheel like this.” You nodded in agreement and your twin grabbed his keys, following you out the door.
Josh sped through the city to get you to the hospital. Your heart was in your throat the whole time, thinking about how fast everything could end. Tears were falling from your chin and you wiped at them with your sleeve, unsure of when you started crying. When he finally pulled up to the emergency room entrance, you jumped out of the passenger seat and ran into the building. You looked around frantically for anybody that could just help you get to her.
A nurse came up, placing a hand on your shoulder, “Are you alright, sir? Can I help you with something?”
You whipped around to face her, “My girlf- Uhhh. Fiancée. My fiancée was in an accident.” You dragged your hand over your face, trying to form a coherent sentence. “I need to see her, I just-. Is she okay? Can I see her?”
“Sweetie, calm down.” She tried to sooth you with her voice, “We just had a few come in from a car accident, I can help you find her, okay?”
You nodded your head at her. Josh had parked the car and was coming through the doors now, “Jake, did you find her? Is she-”
The nurse cut him off, “Oh… Is your name Jacob Kiszka?”
Your eyes went wide as you met hers, “Yes. I- That’s me.”
“Oh, honey.” She held her hand over her chest as relief washed over her face, “Your fiancée is just fine, only a few scrapes. She’ll be sore for a few days, but she’s been practically begging for you since she came in.” She turned around, gesturing for you to follow her, “I’ll take you right to her, I’m sure she’ll feel a lot better seeing you.
You glanced at Josh, not quite feeling relief yet, and fell into step behind the nurse. Odessa made it seem so much worse, but she’s okay… She’s safe. But Odessa’s last words bounced around in your mind, causing you to address the woman. “She was- She’s pregnant…” It felt weird to say it outloud. “Is she- The baby… Is- Are they both okay?” You didn’t expect the fear that settled on you as you waited for her confirmation.
She stopped in front of a door and pulled a clipboard from the wall beside it. “Sweetie, her bloodwork and scan don’t show any signs of a pregnancy.” Her brow furrowed as she scanned over the papers, “I don’t see anything here regarding that. Those at home tests aren’t always reliable…” She tucked the clipboard back into its place and gripped the door handle, pushing it open. The nurse was blocking your view of her as she stepped into the room. “I have someone here for you, honey.” You tried to move around her, but she was planted in the doorway as she talked to her, “He’s just as eager to see you as you are to see him.”
She finally moved further into the room, stepping aside so you could get a glimpse of her, sitting in the hospital bed. “Jake, babe, I-”
Her voice was like nails on a chalkboard and you cut her off before she could keep talking, “What the fuck is this?” You stared at Sage in disgust. “You’re fucking demented, you know that?”
The nurse looked back and forth between you and her, trying to understand what was going on. “Mr. Kiszka, she-”
“She’s fucking crazy! That’s not my girlfriend! She’s the one that caused the accident!” Your voice was echoing off the walls now, “Where the fuck is Y/N?”
The woman’s eyes went wide as Sage tried to hide behind her curtain of hair, “The other girl is- Oh, sweetie…”
guys when writing fics can we please put detailed warnings? you never know what can be triggering for people. sometimes just putting “smut” isn’t helpful…
guys when writing fics can we please put detailed warnings? you never know what can be triggering for people. sometimes just putting “smut” isn’t helpful…
theartofmadeline
areudirty
gamechangershow
romaincrisis
