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lcthebtswriter · 7 years

Text

Unexpected

Request: hi!! I was wondering if I could request a fic where Ethan from CrankGameplays finds out the reader pregnant because she's been sick and kinda hides it from him? if you're not comfortable with Ethan, I would totally love an Anti, Mark or Dark version 💜💜💜💜💜

Genre: fluff, angst

Your hands trembled around the cup of coffee in your hands, Amy sitting across from you and her eyes focused on her own Starbucks cup. The smell of burnt cookies and autumn wind following customers into the shop had your stomach grumbling, and you completely forgot about the cake pops Amy bought before you reached for one. As you bit into the birthday cake flavored dessert, Amy’s eyes scanned your face in search of a sign of something - anything. With what you had just told her, Amy was worried about your own emotional health with how content you seemed to be at the moment.

“How long?” She asked quietly, like the people sitting around you would care to listen in on a pregnant woman’s conversation. You glanced at Amy, cake pop disappearing into your mouth, and your stomach dropped along with the chewed dough and icing. Amy’s question pulled you from the safe haven you created in your mind, and you suddenly realized you were back where you started: one girl, six weeks after finding out she was pregnant and seeking her best friend’s guidance.

You sunk in your chair, embarrassed with the conversation but knowing you were the one who asked Amy if she could meet to talk. “Seven weeks,” you huffed. Amy, having been mid-sip with her cup of hot chocolate, brought a hand to her mouth to keep the liquid from spilling out from between her lips. She swallowed her drink, coughing a bit before moving a strand of hair from her eyes. “And you still haven’t told him?” Amy inquired as she leaned forward, trying to keep her voice low like her handbag had been bugged by an expectant baby snatcher.

By him, Amy referred to your boyfriend of a year and a half, Ethan. He was the entire reason you moved to California along with Amy’s bribery of course. With you graduating with a bachelor’s, you couldn't afford a place to stay and moved in with Amy and her friends when she told you of her convincing everyone. You met Ethan last; the man leaving his room in the middle of your arrival. To say it was love at first sight was cheesy, but you both shared awkward exchanges that quickly let to awkward flirting and eventually a less awkward relationship. Together you had been happily dating, a year and a half concluding with an unexpected pregnancy that sent a wave of nausea throughout your gut.

You shook your head no, bringing the cup of what you ordered to your lips to take a much needed gulp. Amy bit her bottom lip, mind racing to come up with something to say that would fill the silence and further your decision on what to do. “So you don’t want an abortion?”

“No.”

Amy’s brow furrowed in thought, but she obviously came up empty and leaned back in her chair to cross her arms. You groaned, setting your coffee aside before leaning your elbows against the wooden table and holding your head in your hands. Hair cascaded down, blocking the view of Amy although you could feel her eyes on you, concerned. “I don’t want to ruin his reputation, Amy,” your voice wavered, “What if Ethan doesn’t want to stay with me, or help raise this baby?”

Amy reached a hand across the table to take yours, and you grasped onto it like a lifeline. Tilting your head up, you leaned back and shut your eyes to try and relieve an oncoming headache. To say you were terrified was an understatement. Everything Ethan built - all his hard work - could come crashing down simply because you were too afraid of him leaving. You felt selfish for not telling him sooner, for not making a decision before the symptoms appeared, although you had to give yourself credit for concealing the pregnancy so well. Ethan’s habit of sleeping in late prevented him from witnessing your morning sickness, but eventually you would start to show. Then what?

“I could run away,” you chuckled sarcastically. Amy rolled her eyes, the pitiful joke still doing some good and breaking the tense conversation. “You would break Ethan’s heart,” Amy pointed out. She retracted her hand to dig through her purse and find the car keys while she worked up the energy to stand, and you knew her schedule was filled with errands; you were thankful she even picked up the phone. “Besides,” Amy went on to say, “Ethan would be ecstatic to be a parent with you. Don’t you love each other?” That answer was obvious.

You stood, chair scratching against the tile so you could follow Amy to her car. “Of course we do,” you responded. Cups in hand, you left the cafe and climbed into Amy’s car. The AC flicked on, sending a cold breeze at your face that managed to calm your raging nerves. “(Y/N), you've got to tell him today,” Amy broke the silence as she stopped at a red light. You looked out of the window, hands falling to rest on your stomach as you sighed, “I know.”

Ethan jumped into your shared bed, eager to fall asleep beside you after running around recording with Mark and Tyler all day long. You were on the brink of sleep, blankets pulled over your head as Ethan’s shirt clung to your body. Who knew how long until you could wear one of his shirts without a large, pregnant belly stretching the material?

Your boyfriend joined you underneath the covers, temperature rising at the additional body heat as he pulled you closer to him, arm around your waist and lips against your neck. You shifted, his left hand having sat too close to your stomach for comfort but he didn't notice. “How was your day?” Ethan wondered, and the smell of toothpaste filled the dome you and Ethan created. You turned, pushing the blankets over your head to give yourself fresh air. After resting your head on a pillow, you faced Ethan and smiled at how the dimly lit bedroom casted shadows upon his face.

“I hung out with Amy,” you responded. Ethan’s hand trailed up and down your waist, a tired smile making its way onto his lips as his eyes fluttered shut. Tell him, you thought.

“What did you do?”

Tell him now!

“Just got coffee,” you said as Ethan’s eyes shut. You watched intently as you allowed him to rest, unsure whether or not to wake him and dump the news like a pile of dirty laundry. Quiet snores fell from Ethan’s mouth, and you figured it was too late to confess to him the secret that you were carrying his child. Knowing you purposefully procrastinated telling Ethan that night, you fell asleep facing away from him, humiliated at how scared you were of what the future held.

And then you woke up to the smell of pancakes, eagerness to eat immediately setting your stomach into starvation mode. Ethan was nowhere beside you, but the shouting you heard from the kitchen gave his location away. You pulled on a pair of discarded yoga pants, deciding to brush your teeth before greeting your roommates. Everything was so normal that you almost forgot about having to tell Ethan you were seven weeks pregnant.

Your friends greeted you upon entering the kitchen, the smell of all kinds of breakfast foods hitting your nose and sending your appetite skyrocketing. Amy handed you a plate, your favorites already piled on and you thanked her before sitting on the island. Ethan stole one of your bacon strips, earning himself a smack on the hand before you took a sausage patty in yours. Ripping it in half revealed the pinky uncooked part in the middle, the sight of the flesh leaving your mouth dry and stomach flipping in repulsion. Your throat constricted with an oncoming wave of nausea, and you threw your plate aside to rush into the bathroom upstairs and away from everyone.

“(Y/N)?” You heard Amy and Ethan calling, their footsteps following as you locked yourself in the bathroom. The toilet seat flew up and hit the tank, your hands holding the rim as you emptied your stomach until there was nothing that remained. Outside the bathroom door you could hear Amy talking to Ethan, hushing him before her footsteps retreated and it was just Ethan knocking. “Are you okay?” His small voice sounded from the other side of the door, and you shut the toilet lid.

Standing, you ran a hand through your hair and stood before the mirror, switching on the faucet with an uneasy sigh. “I’m fine,” you replied. Turning on the faucet, you cupped water into your hands and sipped it, spitting out the acidic aftertaste that came with bile. “Babe, can you let me in?” Ethan wondered, voice full of worry. He probably thought you contracted a virus or maybe even food poisoning, and your stomach dropped as you realized it was probably the best time to confess. Hands trembling, you turned off the faucet and reached for the knob, taking a seat on the toilet lid as Ethan eased the door open. He shut it and leaned against the wooden frame, arms crossed as if he knew there was a deeper meaning to your sudden ailment.

“What’s up?” He asked, tone gentle yet forceful so you knew he desired the truth then and there. You had been walking on glass around him for the past month and a half, terrified of the exact moment you found yourself in. Dropping your head, you felt a tear slide down your cheek and sniffled, the sound flipping a switch in his brain that triggered the primitive need to protect you. His hands fell on your shoulders and rubbed your arms, comforting you regardless of whether or not you would confess to him the problem. After wiping away a few stress induced tears, you met Ethan’s gaze and held his hands in your own. “Ethan, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you…” “But you suck at telling me things.” In any other situation you would have laughed at his remark, but the news you were to deliver pressed heavily on your conscience and prevented you from smiling. Ethan’s smirk fell once he realized how serious you were trying to be, and he adjusted himself to sit on his shins. “You can tell me,” Ethan reassured. His grip on your hands tightened, bringing you down to reality and grounding you to the moment.

“For seven weeks I’ve,” you paused in hesitation. The possibility of breaking up with him hurt your heart even more than if you hadn't told him anything. He was too good of a man to simply abandon you, but there was also the fan’s reactions to your pregnancy. There were so many “what if” questions and not enough answers, but the desperate look on Ethan’s face had your mind settled.

“I’ve been trying to tell you that I’m pregnant.”

Ethan’s face fell, frozen as he processed what you told him. Your hands slipped from each other, and despite your efforts to hold them once again Ethan had swung the bathroom door open and walked out. He left you, alone, heart shattering as a choked sob ripped from your throat. And then the sound of laughter rang from downstairs, the gleeful echo anything but what you intended to hear. Ethan repeated the same five words like a mantra, your cries slowly transforming into relieved chuckles as your ears listened to what your boyfriend was practically screaming.

“I’m gonna be a dad!”

#ethan nestor fluff #ethan nestor angst #ethan nestor imagines #ethan nestor x reader

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