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#until the wonder-twins come to save the day!

gingiesworld · 8 months

Text

New Sheriff in Town

Requested by @louxbloom

Wanda Maximoff x GN! Reader/ Past Wanda Maximoff x Vision

Warnings: Angst. Fluff.

18+ MINORS DNI

Wanda and Vision were high school sweethearts, everything seemed perfect until she fell pregnant before graduating. Vision proposed to her as soon as he found out which Wanda had said yes.

It all seemed fairytale like as the years went on, Wanda being the stay at home mom as Vision went to work with his uncle at Stark Industries to provide for his family. As much as Wanda loved being a mom to her sons, she hated being home alone. Living the same day, same routine over and over again.

As the years went on, Vision had started to treat Wanda as a maid and not his wife, the twins soon caught on and started to treat her the same as their father did. As much as it broke Wanda's heart, she couldn't leave. Even though her friend's Natasha and Agatha would tell her otherwise. She had an obligation to be there for her family. That is what she was taught the perfect wife was.

That was until Vision had handed her divorce papers as he packed his things. Leaving her to raise two teen boys as he moved in with the 20 year old twinkie in the city. The twins had blamed Wanda for him leaving and never really cut her any slack. Wanda would also find herself crying herself to sleep every night. Wondering at what point her life had took a turn.

But with two 15 year old boys, running amuck throughout Westview. Especially being just as entitled as their father, always causing noise and destruction wherever they go. Only to be yelled at by Wanda before the two would make her cry.

A new resident had moved in ane joined the local Sheriff's department. Well they were the new Sheriff. When they saw the two yelling at Wanda, blaming her for their father not wanting anything to do with them.

"Hey!" Their voice boomed, causing the three to look in their direction. "I suggest you boys show your mother some respect."

"What are you going to do about it?" Tommy sneered as the twins crossed their arms across their chests.

"If I catch you boys doing anything out of line, I can have you arrested." They told them sternly.

"What? You gonna call the police?" Billy teased as Tommy laughed. They sighed as they got their badge out.

"I am the new Sheriff so I suggest you start to respect your mom." They told the two sternly. "Also, if I catch either of you vandalising any property, that includes your mom's house, I will put you in handcuffs. Do you understand me?" The two just nodded before walking inside as Wanda approached Y/N.

"Thank you. I'm Wanda." She introduced herself.

"Y/N." They shook her hand. "Well it was nice to meet you but I have to get to the station." Wanda waved nervously as she watched them walk away.

As the time went on, Y/N had found Tommy drinking in the park. So they approached him with a soft smile on their face.

"Hey, you're Wanda's son right?" They questioned as Tommy just scoffed before having another big sip. "You know you can talk to me."

"About what?!" Tommy spat. "How my dad left us and we've blamed mom all the time for it. Especially seeing him with his new wife and kid."

"Listen, I understand how hard it can be to have a parent give up on you." They told him. "But your mom is still here. She is still looking after you and your brother. You just need to give her a chance. It isn't her fault your dad quit on you guys. That's all on him so please just cut her some slack. Talk with Billy too. She deserves better than the crap you two have given her."

"I'm sorry." Tommy cried as Y/N put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"Save that apology for your mom and do it sober." They told him before standing up. "Come on, I'll give you a ride home." That was the first time that Tommy had felt extremely bad for how he had treated his mom. He hated himself and he hated his dad.

Once Y/N had pulled up outside of the Maximoff residence, Wanda came running out, worry etched onto her features as Y/N helped Tommy out of the car.

"Is he ok?" She asked them as they helped him inside.

"He's just drunk." They told her when they lay him on the sofa to sleep. "He's going to have one killer headache in the morning."

"Thank you." Wanda told them sincerely as she walked them out.

"It's no problem. They have been served a bad hand. The three of you have." Y/N told her softly as she smiled. "I will help keep my eye on them outside of these walls but the rest is on you Maximoff." They told her as she nodded. Watching as they left once more, this time admiring their form in their uniform.

As the time went on, the twins were better than before with Wanda. Doing chores without being asked and even making her drinks.

"I honestly don't know what has happened but it feels like something out of a horror movie." She whispered to Nat as the two stood on the porch, watching the twins mow the lawn and wash the car.

"I know what you mean. It's kind of like an alien invasion." She replied as Wanda nodded. It wasn't until they saw Y/N doing their rounds. Wanda noted that they weren't in their uniform as they stopped and spoke with the twins. "Or maybe a new person has something to do with it." Nat soon noticed how Wanda was silent as she watched Y/N and the boys laugh about something. "You like them." Nat pointed out as Wanda snapped her head in her friend's direction.

"No." She laughed as Nat smirked.

"Yes you do." She told her. "It's ok to want to move on Wanda."

"I know that but the twins have just stopped hating me." She told her. "If I change something it could ruin it."

As the year went on, Wanda had organised a BBQ for the twins birthday. Inviting their friends and family, Y/N had come with some gifts for the twins. Tickets to see their favourite team play the next game. It wasn't until Vision walked inside like he still owned the house.

"Vision? What are you doing here?" Wanda questioned as Vision smirked.

"I came to wish my boys a happy birthday and give them their present." He said as he waved a set of keys in her face.

"Please leave." She spoke shakily as the twins soon noticed the commotion. Y/N's gaze followed theirs as they soon moved to Wanda.

"She said to leave." Tommy stated as he stood beside Wanda.

"You will speak to your father with respect." He spat at him angrily.

"When you see him, let me know." Tommy smirked as Billy held his mom as she cried. All of her anger, pain and sadness coming back ten fold. It was when Vision was about the back hand Tommy across the face Y/N had stepped in.

"I suggest you leave." They told him as they gripped his wrist tightly.

"Fuck you." Vision spat before taking a swing at Tommy with his other hand. Y/N getting in the way and receiving a jab to the jaw.

"I won't ask again." They snarled as they towered over him. "Leave now or I'll have you arrested for trespassing."

"Whatever." He snarled before turning on his heels and leaving the house. Y/N soon got on their phone to a locksmith.

"The locksmith is coming tomorrow." They told Wanda who soon wrapped her arms around them. They were shocked at the action but reciprocated the hug regardless.

"Thank you." Wanda whispered before she kissed their cheek. The party continuing as Vision had never came. The twins barely left Wanda's side as everyone soon started to leave.

"Y/N." Wanda called out before Y/N got into their car.

"Are you ok?" They asked her as she nodded, not expecting her to wrap her arms around their neck and kissed them passionately. Y/N sunk into the kiss as she deepened it. When she pulled away, they watched dumbfounded as she walked back inside. A smile on her lips.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #marvel #elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen x reader #wanda x you #wanda x y/n #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x you #natasha romanoff

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kteezy997 · 4 months

Text

The Candy Man-Part Seven// W.W.

Info/Warnings: fluff, referring to cum as "cream," male receiving oral sex-kinda graphic

Willy came back into the bedroom later on and spooned you under the covers, "Mae just needed her diaper changed. Mocha is still sleeping soundly." He gave you a tired yet sweet kiss on cheek.

"Thank you for checking on them." you said, taking a hold of his hand that rested at your waist.

"Don't thank me, I love taking care of them. They are my babies, after all. And they are so cute. They look exactly like their Mommy." he nuzzled his nose against your cheek.

"Oh no they don't," you argued, "they are your little clones." you yawned, scooting back further to nestle warmly against him, "I gave birth to mini Willy Wonkas."

"I never want to disagree with you on anything, honey, but you're wrong on this one. They are just like you." he cuddled you tighter, resting his head on you.

He would not let you win this one. You were telling the truth, you thought. Maple and Mocha had green eyes, dark chocolate hair that was starting to curl, and high cheekbones, but he would fight this until the very end.

........

Luckily, the next morning, you woke before Willy did. It was your turn to get the twins ready for the day, and you were glad to spend the time with them.

They were both awake when you arrived in the nursery, bright green eyes opened. They were happy to see you. You changed their diapers and got them into some cute clothes for the new day.

You carried them downstairs and sat and let them nurse for a little while until they were full. When they were done, you put them each in a baby seat with some toys and they were content. You pumped some extra milk and put it in a little jar in the refrigerator for Willy later.

You got to working on a pancake breakfast for you and Willy. You used some Wonka chocolate chips in them, of course. Before you knew it, you heard his footsteps coming down to the kitchen, looking well rested, but he had messy curls, of course.

"Awe, look at my little family." he cooed, kissing each of the babies on the cheek and making them giggle. "Daddy loves you so much." he sang, smiling at them with such joy. He came over to you, wrapping his arms around you as you flipped pancakes on the stove.

"Good morning, Daddy." you smiled, kissing his lips.

"Mm, good morning. Smells amazing in here, my love." he gave you a little peck on the lips before heading over to the coffee pot to pour himself a mug.

"There's some milk for your coffee in the fridge." you said, plating up some pancakes.

Willy looked at you, wide eyed and in disbelief.

You gave him a little wink.

He was speechless as he opened up the fridge and picked up the small jar with your creamy liquid in it. "Oh honey, thank you." he said, twisting open the jar and pouring the milk into his hot coffee mug. He saved the last little bit to drink directly from the jar, "Ahh, it's so good. No wonder the twins are so happy and healthy when they've got a diet based on your milk. They love it too."

"Well, Mr. Wonka," you began, handing him a plate of fresh, steaming flapjacks, "you might like my milk, but I want your cream at nap time, sir."

Willy's eyes nearly popped out their sockalets, "Oh, of course, my darling." he gulped as he took the plate from your hand.

You sat down and had breakfast together as you watched the babies play.

“Oh, babe, I’ve come up with an idea on how to boost your milk production.” he announced with his signature enthusiasm.

“Oh yeah? How’s that?”

“Well, I’ve read that it’s all about hydration, and coconut water is perfect. I’m going to come up with a drink for you to try. I’ll add strawberries and cream to the coconut water for sweetness.”

“Awe, Willy that’s so sweet. And if it’s good, maybe we can start making it for the shoppe. Along with other flavors!” it made you so happy when he fueled his creativity and imagination, “We could market to breastfeeding mothers, young children, the elderly, anyone that needs extra hydration.”

“That’s exactly what I thought too! An idea worth expanding upon. And speaking of expanding, which you and I have talked about with our business, I think we are going to need a factory. We have simply outgrown the chocolate shoppe. It's what we will need to share my chocolate with the world, y/n.” his eyes had the same ambitious gleam about them as the day you met him, just a young man trying to get the word out about his magnificent candy.

“Oh, wow, a whole factory. I love it, Willy. It sounds amazing.” you were in awe, “but where would we build it?”

“That’s the best part, I’m looking to buy that abandoned castle outside of town. It’s got great bones, y/n!”

“That’s great! And think of all the jobs it will provide to the community! Oh, honey, this is your best idea yet, I’m so happy.” you got up from you seat and hugged your handsome, smiling lover.

Willy kissed you and said, “I think this will be wonderful for our family, darling. If all goes well, Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory will be theirs to run one day.” he looked fondly at your twins. They chewed on their toys and jabbered gleefully back and forth.

“It will, my love. I know that you can achieve anything you set your mind to.”

“We, y/n. We can do anything, the four of us. We will have our very own chocolate empire.”

…….

The twins ate once more, and Willy put them down in their cribs for their nap. You practically dragged him by the collar and into your bedroom.

“It is so sexy seeing you come so alive when you speak of your dreams and ideas.” you said, unbuttoning his pants.

“Why thank you.” he said nonchalantly.

“I told you that I wanted your cream, Mr. Wonka, so you better give it to me.” you kneeled in front of him, taking his thick cock into your mouth.

“Mmm.” he moaned behind closed lips as you sucked him.

You slurped back and forth on his cock, bobbing your head. You loved how he filled your mouth and rutted his hips softly into the back of your throat. It was as if he was so excited that he couldn’t contain himself.

Willy brushed his fingers through your hair, keeping your locks out of your face while you pleasured him.

You let his cock plop out of your mouth, his deep pink tip leaking transparent cum. You slowly stroked his veiny shaft with your hands, and moved down, running your tongue over his balls. He was full, and ready to burst. You gently suckled at them before sliding your tongue along the underside of his cock. You teased his smooth tip with your puckered lips just a minute longer.

“Aww, here it comes. Take my cream, my love. It’s all for you.” Willy panted softly.

You opened your mouth, tongue flat out, ready to catch his stream. And he did not disappoint; his load was thick and plentiful, creamy yet salty. It was exactly what you’d been craving.

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @bitchyunknownuser @lixzey @kpopgirlbtssvt

#timothée chalamet #timmy chalamet #timothee x reader #timothée imagine #timothee chalamet smut #willy wonka x reader #willy wonka #wonka fanfic #wonka #wonka movie

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scarlet-star-witch · 2 years

Text

The story of us

Steve Harrington x reader

Summary: How Steve fell in love with his best friend and found the love he deserved

Word count: 7.4K

AN: This is total fluff to heal me from Vol. 2. Steve deserves love, period.

She double checked her winged eyeliner, frowning slightly when she realized the makeup on her eyes weren’t quite symmetrical.

They don’t have to be twins, she shrugged to herself and continued on, plastering on her red lipstick. When she was finished she smiled nervously at her reflection, touching up her hair, making sure there were no tangles.

She suddenly sighed and rolled her eyes at herself, her insecurities rising rapidly.

All this work for Steve fucking Harrington, she thought to herself with a shake of her head. She never would’ve believed this day would come. The past couple of years had been a whirlwind and yet, unbelievably, falling for Steve had been the least astounding thing she’d experienced.

Creatures from an alternate dimension overshadowed anything else going on in her otherwise mundane life.

Smoothing down her outfit, she left her room before she could nitpick her look and change her clothes for the third time that night. She raced down the stairs and grabbed her purse, hoping to sneak out without any hassle.

But of course, the universe was not on her side.

“Hey, where do you think you’re going?” Her dad called out from his spot on his recliner, eyeing her from over his reading glasses with a curious look.

“Out.” She shrugged, feigning innocence, her fingers itching to turn the door knob and hightail it out of there before she had to answer any more questions.

“Yeah, no shit. Where are you going?”

“Movies.”

“With who?”

“Dad, I’m already late, I need to go.”

“You know, I’d be a lot less suspicious if you weren’t avoiding my question.” He said with a knowing smirk, getting up from his chair and crossing his arms over his chest, a clear sign that she was about to get the third degree.

She stared at her dad challengingly, his own eyes narrowing in defiance, silently telling her she wasn’t going to win this one.

She sometimes hated how observant her father was.

“So…are you going to tell me or do I have to get the lie detector out.”

“You don’t have a lie detector.” She called his bluff.

“I can buy one. I’m sure they’re not too expensive.” He waved her off. “So…”

Clenching her jaw as her mind suddenly became void of any of her friends’ names, she settled for the first shitty answer she could think of. “I’m going with a friend.”

“This friend wouldn’t happen to be a boy, would it?”

She tensed, wondering how bad her consequence would be if she just sprinted out of the room. It wasn’t that she was embarrassed by Steve. Sure, they were a couple some people gave a double take to, purely because most people had no idea the two of them even knew each other.

But there were prodding questions parents asked about their child’s budding relationships that she couldn’t answer in the slightest.

How’d you meet?

I used to hate him and think he was a stuck up asshole until he saved my life from a monster from another dimension with a bat full of nails.

How’d you get together?

He kissed me while we were in the upside down - you know, that other dimension I mentioned - and thought we were going to be killed by a horde of demo-dogs hell bent on tearing our limbs from our bodies.

Yeah, she’d prefer to keep those details private.

At her prolonged silence, her dad’s smirk grew until he laughed, as if he found great amusement in her torture.

“All you have to do to make this end is tell me who you’re meeting up with tonight.”

“Honey, please just tell him, this is driving me crazy.” Her mom called out from the kitchen, though the amused smile on her face was evident.

She hated when her parents tag-teamed her. All her friends said she was so lucky to have such cool parents, but none of them had ever been on the receiving end of their intrigue.

With a heavy sigh, she averted her gaze down to the floor and muttered the damning name.

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

“Steve Harrington.” She blurted out louder, causing both of her parents’ eyes to widen in surprise.

“You’re going out with Steve Harrington? How the hell did that happen?”

“Nope, you said I only had to tell you who, not how.” She sassed, grinning widely as she made her way to the door.

“Don’t think you can escape these questions forever, young lady!” Her dad called out as she left the house. She waved goodbye and let out a deep breath as she found herself in the cool night air.

When she saw the familiar car waiting idly a few houses down, a wide smile broke out onto her face and she raced forward, eager to see the man in question. As she got into the car, the smile she wore mirrored the one Steve gave her.

Before he could get a greeting out, she leaned over the middle console and kissed him deeply, her hands finding their common place at the base of his neck as her fingers curled into his wild strands of hair.

Their hearts beat in equal excited measure, their stomach fluttering with an array of delighted butterflies.

“Hi.” Steve breathed out when they finally parted.

“Hi.” She smiled and stole another quick peck to his lips.

He cleared his throat, forcing his sudden lust filled daze to dissipate. “So, movies?”

She nodded, biting her lip as she smiled knowingly, absolutely loving the effect she had on him.

Steve’s hand found its place on her thigh as he drove through the sleepy streets of Hawkins. That disbelieving feeling rose again, one that she still couldn’t seem to shake at the fact that she was in the car of the Steve Harrington.

She didn’t know why she was still so surprised by the turn of events. She’d been in his car plenty of times before and, more recently, they’d done some very r-rated things in the back seat. But their growing feelings for each other was still something she had to wrap her head around.

She had started off hating the king of Hawkins high, rolling her eyes whenever he boasted in the halls of the dreaded place. Back then, she was someone he barely even noticed. Then they quickly became a pair finding solace in each other in a crazy world they never expected to be a part of. Then, she became a friend, a confidant, giving him advice, helping with his homework, comforting him in his dark times. She became a place of healing through his break up with Nancy. And then, she soon became a person he could never get out of his mind.

She quickly consumed him, healing his broken heart and showing him a love he never thought could exist.

She became his everything.

Placing her hand over his, their fingers intertwined and she smiled lovingly, her mind beginning to wander to how this had all started.

She had been Jonathan Byers’ best friend since they were in pre-school. That alone explained the fact that they ran in very different circles in school. When Will went missing, her life changed forever.

She loved that little boy as if he were her own brother. She’d been fiercely protective of the quiet boy since he could walk and as his mysterious disappearance unfolded, she was thrust into a world she had trouble believing was real.

“You don’t have to be here.” Jonathan had told her sincerely, looking at her with a pained expression through the explosion of flickering lights above them.

“Jonathan, I’m here and there’s no way in hell I’m leaving.” She told him sternly and tightened her grip on the ax she was holding.

She’d never used an ax before, never even chopped wood before, but it seemed like the proper weapon to use against a demogorgon, a monster with no face as Nancy had described to her.

The three of them stood in a protective circle, their backs against each other’s as they scouted the ruined room for the monster.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door and the last person she had ever expected to see forced themselves into the room, looking around at the destroyed furniture, the excessive number of stringed lights and the weapons in their hands with wide, horrified eyes.

As Steve’s eyes took in the scene before him, his eyes landed on her and she felt as though it was the first time he had ever truly seen her.

“W-what the hell is going on? Why do you have an ax?!”

Those were the first words he ever spoke to her.

“You need to leave, Harrington.”

And those were the first words she’d ever spoken to him.

It didn’t take much convincing for him to run out of the house, the sight of the demogorgon enough to make him run for the hills.

As the monster tackled Jonathan to the floor, she readied her ax and swung, hitting it in the shoulder. She gasped and backed up on trembling legs as it turned towards her menacingly, rearing its claws back, ready to strike her down.

Ignoring the aching in her shoulders, she raised the ax again and with a grunt of exertion, she brought the weapon down, hitting the demogorgon in the shoulder. Its wailed cries of pain didn’t last long, soon the menacing growling took its place and its sights were set on her again.

Gripping the handle of her weapon, she tugged, but it refused to budge, staying lodged within the monster, leaving her defenseless.

Her eyes widened in terror as the creature roared at her, seconds away from lunging, when it suddenly wailed, its body stumbling back from the blow to its side it received.

She watched, stunned, as Steve held the nailed bat, swinging furiously at the creature, backing it up into the hallway where they had placed the trap.

Of all the things that could’ve possibly happened that night, Steve Harrington saving her life was the last thing she’d ever expected.

That was the first time she got the inclination that he wasn’t a completely irredeemable asshole.

Later that night, as the group gathered in the hospital, most still in shock that little Will Byers was in fact alive, she found herself restless, her foot tapping annoyingly against the linoleum floor.

With a heavy sigh, she stood from her seat and made her way through the maze of halls to find the vending machine, suddenly realizing it had been over a day since she’d eaten anything. Her feet dragged her slowly through the bright hallways, the light making her already pounding headache worse.

She suddenly stopped in her tracks, a sense of dread falling over her when she noticed Steve at the vending machine, eyeing the choices tiredly, looking as if he were about to keel over any second.

When he felt her gaze he looked over his shoulder, his passive expression wavering as he smiled softly, sending her a feeble wave.

“Hey.”

“Hi.” She replied, somewhat hesitantly, not used to ‘King Steve’ paying her any mind.

But this was the guy that had saved her life only hours ago. He had stormed right back into danger to help them, and that couldn’t be ignored, no matter what she had previously thought of him.

“I uhm… I just wanted to say thank you, for earlier.” She choked out awkwardly, wringing her fingers together, feeling slightly uncomfortable as he looked at her intently. “That thing would’ve killed me if you hadn’t stepped in, so… thanks.”

Steve smiled lightly, a gesture that portrayed just how tired he was as it was barely a twitch of his lips, but it gave away his gratitude as he bowed his head, not quite sure how to take the compliment.

“It was nothing.”

“Steve, you saved my life. That’s not nothing.” She told him sincerely and the blush that coated his cheeks made her smile.

He grabbed his food and smiled warmly as he passed her, allowing her to take her place at the vending machine. He stopped before he left, turning back to look at her and he called her name softly, making her look over at him with wide eyes.

She didn’t even think he had known who she was, let alone her name.

“I’m glad you’re ok.”

With those words, she was left to stare at his retreating form in a stunned daze.

He wasn’t what she had expected.

Trauma had a way of bringing people together and by some strange twist of fate, she found herself hanging out with Steve Harrington more often than not.

They could speak to each other about things they couldn’t ever speak to other people about. The shared horrors they had seen pushed the two of them together in a way they were helpless to stop.

They were almost completely oblivious to the way they had seemingly latched onto each other since that horror-filled night of Will’s return. They started, almost unconsciously, seeking each other out at school, whether it be simple shared smiles, or Steve inviting her to sit with him and Nancy at lunch, or just simply being with each other for hours until they had to go their separate ways home.

It even developed into Steve driving her home from school day after day, the two of them spending more time together than not.

One night, as she turned off the lights in her house, preparing to head to bed for the night, the phone rang. With a quiet curse, she raced as quietly as she could to the phone, desperate to end the shrill noise before it woke her parents.

“Hello?” She picked up, her tone more pointed than she expected.

“Hey.”

“Steve? Do you know what time it is?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry, I just… do you have time to talk?”

There was a lingering fear heard in his voice, one he tried to cover up, but one she heard nonetheless. It was the same fear her own voice held those nights she couldn’t sleep, the nights where all she could see was that faceless monster.

“Another nightmare?” She asked quietly.

It was quiet on the other line for a long moment, she could practically feel Steve’s shame through the phone, his hesitancy to disclose what he was going through, fearing the notion that this made him weak.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t- I’ll let you get to sleep.”

“No, no, Steve, it’s ok, I’m not tired.” She spoke quickly, stopping him before he could hang up. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just… It’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid. I get them too.”

On the other line, Steve nodded, though she couldn’t see him, his teeth worrying his bottom lip roughly. He paced across the length of his room, wondering if she could hear the pounding of his heart through the phone.

“You wanna talk about it?” Her quiet voice said again and he had to swallow the immediate urge to refuse and hang up to save his dignity.

“Not really.” He mumbled, his finger curling around the cord anxiously.

“Steve.” Her soft voice stressed, gently coercing him to reveal what was troubling him. “It’s ok to be scared. No one should have to see what we saw. Honestly, I’d be more worried about you if you were totally fine after all that shit.”

With a heavy sigh, the floodgates opened and Steve allowed himself to purge everything that was tormenting him.

It was only halfway into his explanation of his dark dream, that he began to wonder why he hadn’t called Nancy, why her name hadn’t been at the forefront of his mind when he wanted nothing more than to be comforted.

Instead he went to her.

It took him weeks to get that sinking feeling to stop.

But it didn’t stop Steve from seeking her out. She had quickly become the greatest friend he ever had and nothing, not even the guilt he felt, like he was betraying Nancy, could take that away.

At school, as the group disbanded from lunch, Steve’s arm found its way over Nancy’s shoulders, his brain fighting to listen to what Nancy was ranting about. Something about fourth period history, he thinks, but he found it hard to concentrate.

His eyes were locked onto Jonathan and the girl who had quickly become one of his favorite people. More specifically, Jonathan’s arm around her waist and their shared smiles as they spoke to each other.

He didn’t know why the sight caused unease to swell within him, he had no idea why that sinking, dreading feeling was back.

He did everything he could to push the thought aside and he was successful, until only hours later when he was sitting with her at his kitchen table, working on an english essay together.

He tapped his pencil against his notebook erratically, watching as she wrote, unbothered by his annoying habit. He cleared his throat, his brain screaming at him not to ask what he so badly wanted to ask.

“So… how long have you and Jonathan been together?”

She laughed, the inclination both amusing and downright disgusting and looked up at him incredulously. “We’re not together.”

“Oh, ok, I just… you guys spend a lot of time together, so I just-”

“He’s my brother.”

Steve’s eyes narrowed in confusion and he looked at her questioningly. “You guys don’t look-”

“Oh my god, Steve, not literally you idiot.” She laughed and tossed her eraser at him playfully. “I’ve known him forever, he’s like my family.”

“So you two have never…?”

“Fuck no!” She cringed. “It’s always been platonic between us.” She explained and didn’t know why seeing him breathe out, as if in relief, made her stomach clench.

He didn’t understand why he felt relief and he wasn’t about to question it. He didn’t want to go down that rabbit hole.

“Haven’t you had a friend like that? Someone you want to spend all your time with, someone you wanna tell your good news to right away, someone you love without any conditions?”

“Uhh, no.”

She eyed him carefully, noting the sudden shyness that overtook him, a shyness that made him seem embarrassed almost, like he was missing out on something, like there was something wrong with him for never having experienced what she was describing.

“And that definitely doesn’t sound platonic.” He added with a smirk, all traces of his insecurity gone.

She sent him a playful scowl and rolled her eyes.

“Well it is, trust me.” She assured him. “That kind of love, it can definitely become something romantic, but that sure as hell isn’t the case with me and Jonathan. He’s just… he’s one of my favorite people.”

Steve nodded slowly, looking as though he was ruminating over her words carefully, causing her to look at him curiously, wondering what had caused him to look so thoughtful, wondering what had caused that uneasy look in his eyes.

“But, I mean… you have that with Nancy though, right?” She asked slowly, simultaneously cringing at herself in fear of overstepping.

Steve sat up straighter and for a brief moment, as his eyes met hers, he looked like a deer in headlights, trapped and doomed, before he schooled his expression and averted his gaze.

“Yeah, yeah, sure, I think so.”

“You think so?”

Steve hesitated, chewing on his lip nervously before sighing in resignation, looking over at her cautiously.

“That loving without any conditions… I don’t know if we’re there.” He admitted quietly.

“That’s ok. You can get there. You two are still only in highschool. The both of you are going to grow and change as people and your relationship will grow and that unconditional love will grow.” She told him, trying her best to soothe his nerves, regretting having brought it up in the first place. “But if it’s really something you’re worried about you should talk to her about it.”

Steve nodded slowly, her words lingering in his head long after he had left her side. Guilt began to fester inside of him as his head spun with thoughts so confusing he didn’t know what to make of them.

A part of him didn’t want that to grow between him and Nancy. And that scared the shit out of him.

He continued to ignore the feeling and the constant thoughts of her, finding it easier that way. Facing his feelings head on was never one of his strengths and it sure as hell wasn’t going to be any time soon, he made sure of that.

He was almost unaware of the way his eyes would seek her out, he was unaware of how often he smiled around her, he was unaware of just how purely content he was in her presence.

She somehow had a way of making him laugh in situations that usually had him stressed. Tutoring had used to be a contentious, horrible hour of his life every Thursday evening that he would dread every second of, until she became his tutor.

“What’d you get for question 7?”

“X equals 32.”

“What?!” Steve yelled, grabbing her notebook and staring down at it as if it were a valuable ancient script. “I got x equals 5.”

She barked out a laugh, laying down on her bed as she clutched her stomach.

“Shut up.” Steve groaned, tossing her notebook back to her bitterly, though he couldn’t hold back his own smile from growing at the sound of her raucous laughter.

“Sorry, sorry, I just don’t know what the hell you did to make that possible.” She said through her laughter.

Steve’s own laughter became louder and soon their homework was long forgotten as they dissolved into a hysterical fit of laughter that couldn’t be stopped.

After a few minutes, their laughter lightened to soft giggles, the two of them sharing equally delightful smiles. Something shafted between them, their gazes lingering just a little too long, the moment dangerously toeing the line between platonic and romantic just a little too closely.

Her gaze, which had been eagerly taking in every inch of his beautiful face drifted to the clock on the bedside table for a second and the moment was broken in an instant.

“Oh shit, I gotta go. Danny’s picking me up in like ten minutes.” She rushed out as she collected her books and shoved them into her backpack.

Steve’s shoulders deflated at the reminder of her boyfriend. He didn’t like the guy, not one bit. It was clear Danny didn’t like Steve, that he was threatened by their friendship. The fact that he took every opportunity to glare coldly at Steve was telling enough.

“What do you guys have planned for tonight?” He asked casually, hoping the question came off as purely friendly curiosity and not his desire to protect her from the arrogant college douchebag.

“There’s a party on campus.”

“Oh, cool. Sounds fun.” He said with a small smile, wincing at himself for his failed effort to sound excited for her.

As she left, he tried hard not to think too hard about the kiss she’d placed on his cheek in goodbye and why it made his heart beat faster.

And he especially tried hard to not think about what she’d be doing with her boyfriend that night, because every time he did he felt like his heart would drop out of his body.

All of these thoughts of her, thoughts that confused him to no end, weren’t easy to compartmentalize. Even more so after Nancy had stomped on his heart and drunkenly tore their relationship apart.

The night after the party, the night after his relationship ended, he found himself where most could find him, at her side. He was slumped on her bed, staring up at the ceiling mindlessly.

He loved Nancy, at least he thought he did. She was the healthiest and realest relationship he’d ever had. He couldn’t just let go of that. He couldn’t ignore what the past year had meant to him, he didn’t want to throw it away.

But his mind kept returning to her.

Her, his best friend who was dating another man and who most definitely didn’t see him as anything other than a friend.

“What should I do?” He asked her, giving her a helpless look. “I could buy flowers, or chocolates, Nancy likes chocolate, right?” He continued to rant, not noticing the disbelieving look thrown his way.

“And why would you do that?”

“I need to apologize, you know, a grand gesture to sweep her off her feet kind of apology.”

“Steve, why the hell would you apologize? She was the one that called you ‘bullshit’.” She asked, looking at him as if he were crazy.

“I… well, I dunno, I guess I don’t. But I don’t wanna lose her either.”

With a heavy sigh, she leaned towards him, placing her hand over his and he had to force himself not to look in amazement at the touch, forcing his gaze to remain on her face, where he became lost in her sympathetic eyes.

Huh, I never noticed how her eyes looked in the sunlight, he thought to himself, dazed and confused more than ever.

“Steve, you deserve to be with someone who loves you as much as you love them. You shouldn’t settle for anything less, you don’t deserve anything less.”

Her words broke him out of his daze forcefully and he felt his breath hitch. The only time he had heard what he deserved was his dad yelling at him, berating him, telling him he deserved to stay in this small town, he deserved his shitty job and shitty grades.

He had never been told that he deserved better than what he had.

“But I don’t-”

“No, buts!” She interrupted him passionately and he was struck by how hard she was trying to help him, how much she truly wanted him to be happy.

He couldn’t remember the last time someone had been so vehemently on his side. He had no idea it would feel so damn good.

“If Nancy doesn’t wanna be with you, then she doesn’t wanna be with you. You can’t force those kind of feelings and you shouldn’t have to. Steve, there’s probably a hundred girls in this town alone willing to show you how you deserved to be loved. You just need to find her.

He stared at her as if in a trance.

“Just need to find her.” He repeated her words slowly, his eyes never wavering from hers.

She tried hard not to think of how her stomach flipped under his gaze.

Over the next few days, Steve had been racking his brain, desperately trying to find a way to let her know, to find the courage to tell his best friend that he was crazy about her, that the love he felt for her was something he could no longer deny.

But the universe, as always, had awful timing, and the chaos they endured just a year ago was back in full force.

“Well, this isn’t the Friday I thought I’d be having.” She muttered, her nose crinkled in distaste as she helped Steve shove the dead demo-dog into the Byers’ fridge.

It had been a whirlwind of a week, hell the last hour was enough to have her mind spinning.

Eleven was alive, Will was possessed, the gate was open, and their lives were in danger, yet again.

“Yeah, I second that.” Steve said through his panted breath as they both forcefully slammed the fridge door shut.

Wiping his hands on his jeans and cringing at the mess the creature had left, he looked up at her again, his brows furrowing as he noticed the dull look in her eyes.

“I’m sorry your weekend got messed up, I know you were looking forward to visiting Danny.” He told her, taking a guess as to why she was in such a foul mood.

She let out a bitter sounding laugh and shook her head. “Please don’t say that asshole’s name in my presence.”

Steve looked at her in bewilderment, silently motioning for her to continue, to explain what the hell was going on with her. Despite his elation at the prospect that her douchebag boyfriend was out of the picture, her behavior kept him from jumping for joy just yet.

After a long pause, followed by an even longer heavy sigh, she leaned against the fridge, her eyes falling closed.

“I caught him cheating on me.”

Steve’s face fell, his heart aching for her. He thought his break up with Nancy had been bad, but he was thankful it hadn’t been that bad. He was beyond angry that she had to go through that heartbreak. He moved to stand beside her, leaning against the fridge of horrors, his shoulder brushing against hers.

“Jesus, I'm sorry. He’s… he’s an idiot. He has no idea what he lost.”

She laughed slightly and nudged him. “Yeah, right.”

“Hey, I’m being serious here. You’re a catch and you were way too good for that guy.”

“Steve, stop.”

“Stop what? Telling the truth?”

She looked over at him and a lump grew in her throat when she saw the look on his face, when she realized he hadn’t been joking, that he was telling the god honest truth.

She let out a long breath, blinking rapidly to quell the urge to let those dastardly tears come to her eyes again. She’d wasted enough tears on Danny and she had quickly come to the conclusion that he didn’t deserve a single one of them.

“I just wish there was a way I could get back at him, you know? I wanna humiliate him like he humiliated me.”

“Yeah, I get it.”

She chewed on her lip in contemplation until a reckless idea popped into her head. “Maybe I’ll sleep with his roommate, he was pretty cute.”

Steve choked on his breath and he felt a burning pit of dread settle within him, making him feel sick. It was bad enough to think about her with Danny, but now, picturing her with another college douchebag was making him feel dizzy.

“Uhhh, no, I don’t- that’s probably not- I- that’s not a good idea.” He stammered, floundering for an explanation, desperate to get her mind off of that plan that would tear his heart to pieces.

She smiled lightly, the sight of him so flustered warming her heart. “It’s not?”

“No, I don't think it’s enough.”

“I mean, his english lit professor’s young, I could probably sleep with him too, that’d definitely fuck with him.”

Steve’s eyes widened in horror and he shook his head, his mouth moving but no words escaping him.

“Uhh, no, nope, not what I was suggesting.” He rambled mindlessly, feeling as though he was seconds away from going into cardiac arrest.

“So what do you suggest, since apparently you know everything there is to know about relationships.” She joked sarcastically.

Steve laughed, though it was strained, his mind still racing with horrible thoughts of her tangled up with another man.

“I think, if you really wanna get back at him, you need to show him that you’re happy without him.”

“And how do I do that?”

“I think falling in love with someone, loving someone so unconditionally that you wanna spend every minute of every day with them, that whenever you get good news they’re the only one you think about telling, that you can only picture your days with them, that they’re the one person you wanna see, the one person you think about constantly.” Steve spoke, his voice becoming low as his gaze pierced hers.

He hadn’t even realized he had leaned in until they were practically nose to nose with her

He swallowed against the lump in his throat, forcing himself to not chicken out, and kept his eyes on her.

Her face smoothed out as she stared back at him, almost as if she were in a daze. His words, words that were once her own but were spoken back to her but so much more passionate, with so much more fire than when she had used them, made her feel lightheaded.

“I think that would really show him.” Steve said quietly, his voice almost a whisper, like if he spoke any louder, he’d scare away whatever was happening between them.

“Hey!”

The two of them jumped apart and looked over at Dustin who was looking at them with narrowed eyes, trying to make sense of what he had just walked into.

“If you two are done flirting, we have a problem.”

“Dust- wait, what? What problem?” Steve’s initial urge to scold the teenager faded as he realized there was imminent danger.

Despite the fact that she should’ve been focusing on the present moment, you know, with the fate of the world on the line and everything, all she could think of was Steve, the words he had spoken to her, the way he had looked at her.

She wondered if she hallucinated the entire thing, if she was just reading way too much into the moment and exaggerating what it really was.

There’s no way, she told herself, there’s no way he likes me.

As Billy harassed the group, threatening Lucas, and then beating the shit out of Steve, the valiant hero who tried his best, she couldn’t force herself to focus. Which was for the better, she assured herself, she didn’t want to watch Steve get his ass handed to him and, while she thought of herself as a pretty tough girl, there was no way she was getting in between a fight that involved Billy Hargrove of all people.

It was a whirlwind of chaos as Max handled Billy, effectively knocking him on his ass. If she knew drugging him was an option, she would’ve done that the second that abrasive asshole stepped foot in the house.

Yet, throughout the chaos, her mind never wavered from the way Steve had looked at her in that kitchen, she couldn’t stop thinking about the words he had said to her.

Even as she helped drag him to the backseat of Billy’s car, still thinking the kids’ plan was a horrendous one, she had only agreed because her mind was preoccupied with wondering if Steve had just confessed his love to her.

Get a hold of yourself, she scolded herself.

Even as the group of them trudged through the dark and dismal tunnels of the upside down, her mind refused to cease its incessant worrying. It was most definitely not the ideal situation to be hung up on a potential crush she may or may not have been denying for months.

Her mind was so preoccupied, she hadn’t been paying attention to the dangerous terrain below her. Her foot caught on a vine and she stumbled, about to fall flat on her face when a sturdy arm wound around her waist, holding her upright.

“You ok?” Steve asked breathlessly, looking down at her in concern.

She felt her throat go dry and she nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I'm good.”

She felt as though her brain was short circuiting as they continued to walk, Steve’s arm around her waist never ceasing, keeping her protected at his side.

Their plan had gone off without a hitch, they’d managed to torch the tunnels, successfully distracting the monsters so El had a chance to close the gate and save the world yet again.

As the group ran through the tunnels to get to safety, Steve’s hand remained in hers, pulling her along with him easily.

As they heard the horde of demo-dogs behind them, they all ran faster and she felt Steve’s grip on her hand tighten in fear.

They worked quickly, hauling the kids up the rope in quick succession.

“Go, go, go.” Steve urged, helping Dustin, the last kid of the group to get up, to start climbing.

“Wait, what about you?” Dustin questioned, looking down at them nervously.

“Just go!” Steve urged, pushing him towards the rope.

With all the kids safe and out of the upside down, they both let out equal breaths of relief, both of them feeling as though they had done their job, had protected those kids like they were supposed to. But as the roar of the monsters came closer, she looked to Steve, the both of them realizing at the same time that they had run out of time.

With a shaking breath, she turned to face her demise, watching as the shadows of the demo-dogs raced closer, only mere feet away.

This was it. This was the end.

A gentle touch startled her out of her dark thoughts

“Don’t.” Steve said softly, his hand settling at her cheek and moving her head to avoid looking at the creatures that would cause their demise. “Just look at me.”

The catch in his voice didn’t go unnoticed and she swallowed thickly, looking up at him with watering eyes.

“If I have to die with someone… I’m glad it’s you.” She choked out.

Steve’s expression twisted, looking as though he was pained and he bowed his head, his other hand moving to grip onto her waist. He moved his gaze up to meet hers and his eyes shone with tears.

“If we make it outta this, please don’t hate me.” He whispered reverently and before she had the chance to question just what he meant, his lips crashed onto hers.

Her eyes widened in shock before falling closed in bliss, her heart racing within her chest. He held her so gently yet so desperately, she couldn’t help but fall into him, her chest pressed against his as she kissed him back eagerly.

Her hand, as if without her knowledge, found their way into his hair and the short, needy exhale he gave made her weak in the knees. His grip on her waist tightened, his hand gentle at her cheek as they kissed with a fiery, burning passion, one they could no longer deny.

The moment was broken as she felt a bump at her leg, making her fall into his chest. He wrapped both arms around her protectively, holding her close to him. They watched in awe as the monsters avoided them, racing past them, paying them no mind.

“Holy shit.” She breathed out, her wide eyes locked onto the demo-dogs, her heart racing at how close she had been to accepting her end.

With a shaking breath, she turned her attention to Steve, only to find him already looking at her, his own expression of shock mirroring hers.

“Are you ok?”

She nodded wordlessly and her hands moved to grip onto his arms which were still holding her tightly.

“Are you?”

“Yeah, I think so.” He answered with a huff of tired laughter. “Shit, that was close.”

Suddenly, they heard the kids screaming for them from above.

“Are you two ok?!”

“We’re fine!” She yelled up to them, moving to grab onto the rope to haul herself out of the tunnels, but Steve’s grip on her arm stopped her, making her look back at him.

“Look, what I did… I didn’t- if that made you uncomfortable-”

“Steve,” She interrupted him, a small smile beginning to grow at how nervous he looked. “Shut up.”

With that, Steve was left to watch her scale the rope in a daze, frozen in place. He let out a small laugh and shook his head. Despite his raging nerves, she had a way of putting him at total ease, calming every one of his insecurities.

As he made his way out of the upside down, he found his place at her side, his arm finding its way around her waist again.

“Is it over?” Max asked, eyeing the group nervously.

“I think so.” Steve replied with a smile, feeling as though a weight had been lifted from his chest and he looked over at her again, both of them sharing knowing smirks at the double meaning of the interaction.

Their anxieties were gone, the dance they had done around each other for so long was finally over.

Once it was clear that they had succeeded, once they knew Will was ok, El was ok and the gate was closed, their night of fighting was finally over.

Steve drove all the kids home, leaving the two of them in the car, driving down the empty roads of Hawkins.

There was a nervous energy that surrounded them, unspoken words lingering in the air. Neither one of them knew what to say, both too nervous to break the silence that had grown since Dustin had left the car, leaving them alone.

As Steve pulled up to her house, his expression shifted into one of disappointment, suddenly wondering if tomorrow would be different, if her feelings would be different now that the danger was gone, wondering if their moment was just a moment of weakness fueled by fear.

“So… I know I’ve asked you this like a million times already, but, are you ok?” Steve asked quietly.

She looked over at him, their eyes finally meeting and the warm smile that graced her lips made his heart stutter.

“I’m more than ok.”

He nodded, feeling his palms beginning to sweat, his stomach twisting with nerves.

“Steve,” She called out softly. “Did you mean it?”

He looked confused for a moment before he realized what she was asking. Their moment in the kitchen, the words he had spoken so gently and loving to her.

He swallowed thickly, working up every ounce of courage he had to finally say the words that had been on his tongue for months.

“Of course I did.” He told her softly, his smile growing. “How could I not?”

Her eyes softened and her chest exploded with pleasurable fluttering nerves. She reached over, placing her hand over his and intertwined their fingers, delighted when she heard the breath of relief he exhaled.

“You’ve been it for me for a long time. I was just too stupid to do anything about it.”

His words made her stomach twist in the best way she’d ever experienced.

Steve cleared his throat and looked over at her hesitantly, his nerves in full force.

“So, uhh, I mean, do you… do you feel… I mean, I know this is new and weird, well, not weird, at least for me. I’ve known I’ve liked you for like… I dunno, a while, probably more than I’d like to admit. And you’ve probably only seen me as a friend, but I think the last few months have-”

“Steve.” She said forcefully, cutting off his rant and forcing him to look over at her with wide eyes, his fear evident.

She tightened her grip on his hand and leaned forward, forcing his nervous, cast down gaze to raise, finally meeting her eyes.

“I think I was too stupid to do anything about my feelings too.” She echoed his previous words cheekily.

Steve let out a harsh breath, smiling widely, and he couldn’t help but feel as though he had accomplished a great feat. The pure relief she saw on his face made her heart lighten, as it had more times than she could count around him, a feeling she had finally come to terms with.

With a giggle, she leaned forward and crashed her lips to his.

He responded immediately, deepening the kiss as his hands grabbed onto her eagerly, as if he would die if he didn’t have her close for another second. Months of tension were released as they kissed with a fiery need that they thought would never dissipate.

After a few minutes, Steve pulled away, his brow furrowed and lips swollen as he looked at her intently.

“Wait, so, this means you like me too, right?” He questioned breathlessly and his stomach flipped as she laughed loudly. “What, I’m just checking, I mean, we did just almost die. Emotions are running high. I don’t want you waking up tomorrow morning totally repulsed at the sight of me.”

“Oh my god, Steve, just kiss me, you idiot.” She told him and he was all too happy to oblige.

As he kissed her again, this time softly, more gently than he had before, they both had to fight the smiles that threatened to grow and ruin the kiss.

More Stranger Things fics are coming!

I have an Eddie fic coming out soon to undo the emotional damage of Volume 2 xx

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington imagine

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jakeyt · 3 months

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Covet: Chapter 9 (Part 2 of 2)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader

Covet Summary:

Life was good. No, life was great.

Was.

Until.

Jake Kiszka crashed into the picture.

You welcomed him into your life—your home.

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)

Taglist: @joshym, @gretavanfleetposts, @alyson814, @fretaganvleet, @lallisonl, @writingcold, @gvfpal, @twinszka, @jessicafg03, @reesetrippingthelight, @sacredjake, @laurenlovesgretavanfleet, @gretavangroove, @222headedcalf, @dreamssingold, @carbondancingthroughtime, @raviolilegs, @way-to-go-lad, @jakekiszkasmommy, @katgvf, @objectsinspvce, @jaketlover, @vanfleeter, @thetroublegetssoloud71, @seditabets, @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface, @jaketlove, @ohgodthefeeling-gvf, @starcatcher-jake, @anythingforjtk, @lucimoo, @indigostreakmorgan, @gretavanbear, @katelynn-gvf, @alwaysonthemend, @aintthatapity, @bowievanfleet, @fwzco, @takenbythemadness, @cherry-icecreamsmile, @laneygvf, @hi-hi-hello11, @sinarainbows, @jakesbarbarian, @mybussyinchrist, @becinabubblegvf, @heckingfrick, @danigvf, @pinkandsleepy1934, @derrangeddumpsterfire, @klarxtr, @josh-iamyour-mama, @abby-gvf, @cassyface, @gretavansabotage, @torniturntomyarrow, @joshsbonnet, @llrosee, @starshine-gvf, @itsafullmoon, @gvfmarge, @creadliz98

(and, due to t*mblr’s shitass guidelines, i will be adding the other tags in a reblog of the story!)

#jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka fic #jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka fanfic #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet fanfic #jake fic #jake kiszka #covet #my fics

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ash-whimsicalfanfic · 11 months

Note

I was wondering if you can please write fanfic. Where the reader is a mother of young twins who is fiercely protective of them because one of them is completely colorblind and the other one is going deaf and nobody on the team knows of their existence.

So one day her babysitter can’t work or something do whatever you like at this part, but basically, the NCIS team finds out about the twins and her fierceness protectiveness and Leroy Jethro is like ok I’m kinda in love with you to you’re officially Mrs. Gibbs five and have fun with it.

Do whatever you like with this and I hope you enjoy writing it. I hope you have a wonderful year a wonderful month in your writing is amazing and I appreciate you.

Fierce Love

Leroy Jethro Gibbs X Fem OC/Reader

Word Count: 4.5K

Warnings: Flashbacks, Mentions of SA, Kidnapping, Mild Language, Violence, Guns, Blood, Suggestive, Angst, Fluff, etc.

Prompt: You are a mother of young twins, one who is colorblind and the other who is going deaf. The team doesn’t know of their existence until something happens to the babysitter who so happens to be your goddaughter. The team finds that you are fiercely protective and fiercely in love with your kids. But, this stands out more to Gibbs because he’s been trying to figure out for

Sidenotes: I used a scene from “The Rookie”, not to the exact measures, but similar.

You look down at the twins you held, your eyes instantly teary as you looked at the two bundles that saved you. They were perfect with their ten fingers, their ten toes, their tiny noses, their tiny lips and their healthy selves.

Adeline Iridessa Y/L/N, you sweet baby girl who was younger by a few minutes. Then her older brother by only minutes, Alexander Archer Y/L/N.

"Mommy will always protect you." You whisper softly.

"Ms. Y/L/N, I'm afraid to tell you that Adeline is colorblind. Alexander is rapidly losing hearing and we fear he may be deaf." Dr. Bryant explains.

You were silent for a moment, trying to soak in this information. You look at the twins for a moment before turning back to him.

"Is there anything we can do to try and preserve and maybe even salvage what hearing Alex has?" You ask.

"We could try some tubes, however I fear that his case is too severe. Here are some pamphlets. This will help Alexander if he needs to learn sign language. It's always good starting them off at a young age anyway. They tend to retain the language better and he will be better. You may want to also have Adeline learn the language for her brother as well." He explains.

You nod, looking at the twins who were wide awake, looking around curiously. Your heart aches knowing that Adeline will never get to see such beautiful colors because she has achromatopsia color blindness and then Alexander will eventually lose his hearing altogether.

4 YEARS LATER

You were sitting at your bullpen, trying to figure out how to make their 5th birthday party the best birthday ever for them. You know you probably spoiled them too much, but they were your babies and you'd be damned if you ever let something happen to them.

The thought of sending them to school was agonizing. Knowing that they were getting older was scary. These were your babies and the thought of anything happening to them sent you into a protective mode instantly.

"Alright, what do we have?" Gibbs asks, coming back from getting coffee.

Tony, Ziva and Tim immediately are up and fighting to tell their finds. However, Gibbs was focused on you who seem distracted on something.

Gibbs was able to read everyone. However, after four years of working for him, he still was trying to figure you out. Almost everything about your file was confidential. He was so brutal on you when you first came here, however he has gotten better over time.

The elevator doors open and everyone turns back. You stand slowly as you see your twins exit the elevator hand in hand with your neighbor following behind them.

"Mommy!" Adeline squeals, running to you and hugging you.

You squat down, hugging her and Alexander. You gently push them back and look to Alexander, signing, "What's wrong baby boy?"

He looked pale and like he wasn't feeling the greatest. Which was strange because before you left this morning, you made sure to make sure both were tucked in and weren't running fevers.

He sighs, signing, "Just worried and tired." You frown, gently guiding them both behind your desk, lifting them both into your chair before your neighbor walks to you.

"Y/N/N, Lexi answered the door this morning and their was a man there who was claiming to be the twins' father. The twins followed your "game" as Adeline put it if a stranger shows up. Lexi was taken by that man. And I came over here as fast I could." She explains.

You let a slow breath out as your heart rate picks up. Lexi was a good girl. She was your older sisters daughter. Lexi made you realize how much you wanted kids of your own. Lexi was like a daughter to you. You look at the twins, knowing that Lexi would do anything for them—just like you—which is probably how she ended up in this situation to begin with.

"Thank you, Bebe. You did the right thing." You say.

"Do you want me to take the twins so that you can work and get Lexi back?" She asks.

"No, no, it's alright. I think I'd feel better knowing they are with me. Thank you, Bebe. I'd say yes if I felt safe about it, but their father is...a very unpredictable man. I don't want to put you or the twins in danger." You explain.

It made you feel guilty, like you didn't trust Bebe, but thankfully she understood where you were coming from. She gave you a big hug, promising that everything would be okay and that Lexi was a tough girl. You knew Lexi was tough. You also knew Lexi would have left clues for you. She leaves and you turn to your team who was watching.

"You have kids?" Tony asks surprised.

"Yes." You say a bit more defensively than you expected, moving in front of the twins.

"Hey, easy there mama bear. I'm just surprised. You have no pictures and you've never mentioned them." He says, putting his hands up in surrender.

You clench your jaw, choosing to keep silent. These were your babies. You know your team wouldn't do anything to them. You knew that they'd protect them just as fiercely as you. However, your protective side was running wild knowing their father was after them and knowing he had Lexi.

Gibbs was staring at you, a small smirk on his lips. He could finally read you and put every piece to the puzzle together about you. It was like you were an open book right now.

I'm so in love with her, he thinks to himself.

"That's a pretty dress you have on sweetie. Is pink your favorite color?" Ziva asks and your heart clenches.

"Adeline can't see colors. She has achromatopsia color blindness. Alexander is deaf...he lost all of his hearing by the time he was one. He knows sign language though. So does Adeline. He can also read lips very well. Both of them can. Even though Adeline can talk, sign language and reading lips is a second nature to her." You explain.

You didn't realize you were nervously rambling, but the team did and smiled softly. They understood the normal moms fierce love for their child, however yours was far fiercer and far more protective. And it wasn't because you were an NCIS agent. It was because both of your babies were special.

"Mommy says pink is my color. And I trust mommy." Adeline says, smiling at Ziva who grins.

"Well, your mommy is very much right. Pink is definitely your color." She says.

"Alex, Addy...this is mommy's friends. That's Ziva, this is Tim and that's Tony. That's mommy's boss, Gibbs." You say, pointing to each of them.

Adeline was in a full conversation with Tony, Tim and Ziva. Alexander was looking at Gibbs who crouches down to his height and signs, "Are you okay?"

Alexander smiles and you look down, a light blush on your cheeks. You always had what Abby liked to call a "school-girl crush" on Gibbs. The elevator doors open and you look over to see Abby skipping towards you.

"Oh my goodness! They are so cute!" She exclaims.

"Mommy, who is that?" Adeline asks while looking at you.

"Mommy?" Abby asks, looking at you with wide eyes.

"Y/N is a mom, Abby. She's just been trying to keep them safe from their father." Gibbs explains before going back to signing with Alexander.

"What? You didn't trust us?" Abby asks.

"Abs, that isn't the case...their father is a terrible man. I thought he was still in prison. But, he isn't and he has my goddaughter who babysits for me...and because he is out, he was trying to get the twins. I just was scared that mostly you would get attached and what if I had to up and leave one day with the twins? I knew staying in one place meant he'd find me. I just..." You trail off and sit down as you bury your head in your hands.

"You have made a family. It explains why you were so distant. How did you and the father meet?" Tim asks.

"I was kidnapped by him when I was undercover. I'm sure you can put the pieces together." You mumble.

"Y/N/N." Abby whispers with watery eyes.

"It's fine. I don't dwell on the past. Not to mention, I've got these two who saved me." You murmur, lifting your head to look at your twins.

The team shared pitiful smiles, never realizing what you have gone through. You let a shaky breath out, moving your hands to your knees.

"They know sign language?" Abby asks while looking at Alexander.

"Alexander is deaf. He can read lips and sign, and Adeline can too. I made her learn too for him. Adeline has achromatopsia color blindness." You explain.

"Okay. Y/N, would you be okay with Abby taking them so that we can get your goddaughter back? And so I can personally speak with the bastard?" Gibbs asks.

"Y-Yeah, of course. Abby...I...I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I...I probably—." You start until she covers your mouth.

"Don't apologize. I understand and I'm not mad. However, I'm making them call me Aunt Abby." She says and you laugh.

"Alright. I mean I've talked about all of you guys to them and that's kind of how I've labeled you. Personally, I think you should be their godmother but if you want to be Aunt Abby, well I guess I'll have to find a different godmother." You say casually as you shrug with a smile and she gasps before squealing and hugging you.

"I want to be the godmother!" She exclaims.

You chuckle and stand before you tap your foot three times pretty hard on the ground. Alexander turns to you, feeling the vibrations on the ground.

"Come here." You sign and he walks over to you.

You kneel and gently grasp Adeline's elbow and she looks at you before moving to stand by Alexander.

"I want you guys to meet someone else. This is your godmother and one of mommy's other friends." You say and sign.

"Okay mommy, who is it?" Adeline asks.

You point to Abby and they both turn. Abby kneels and starts to sign to them which you couldn't help, but smile at Alexander's excitement. He really struggled because it wasn't like everyone knew sign language.

You turn and see a hand outstretched in front of you. It was Gibbs. You take it and he helps you up. You turn to look at the twins who seemed to be in awe. You focus on Abby's hands and notice she is telling them about her lab. You laugh quietly. Both of your twins were in love with anything to do with science so you knew they'd be just fine with Abby.

Abby looks at you and grins before she takes their hands and goes to lead them to the elevator. You find yourself having an internal battle, wanting to go with them, but you managed to keep yourself rooted to where you stood. You feel a hand on your hip and turn to see Gibbs.

"They are with Abby. They are safe." He mumbles.

You nod, knowing he was right and he pats your hip twice as Tony excitedly announces since it's your case, your lead.

"We should start at my house. Lexi is a smart girl and she would've left clues. I know her. And knowing that man, he probably searched the house for the twins. But, Lexi told them to play that game when a stranger comes over. It's basically a game to them, but it's something I've done in case someone tries to get to the twins. They have a hiding spot. Lexi and I are the only ones aware of that spot." You explain.

"It's good you had that in place." Ziva says as you all head to the elevator.

"I know I probably seem like an overbearing mom and that I'm really overprotective, it's just...I worry. And Alexander can't hear what's going on and I know Adeline will talk to anyone and everyone because she doesn't understand the dangers of talking to strangers. She thinks I'm mean for saying we can't talk to people we don't know." You explain.

"Y/N, we aren't judging you. Your an amazing mother. You have no need to worry." Gibbs says softly.

You look at him for a moment and nod. You go with Gibbs to the car as the other three go to the van. You felt extremely stressed and nervous so when traffic hit, it was even more stressful.

"They arrived at the house. I'd try to get us out but we are blocked in." Gibbs says.

You sigh, running a shaky hand through your hair. He studies you for a moment before putting a hand on your thigh. You look at him and he smiles slightly.

"We will get her back." He says.

It was silent, his hand on your thigh and your brain was now running about your "school-girl crush" on him.

"Gibbs, I need to tell you something." You admit.

"I know." He says softly, grinning.

"You know?" You ask confused.

"I know." He says, the both of you looking at each other.

"Then what was I going to say?" You ask.

"That you like me." He says and your cheeks flush.

"Was it really that obvious?" You ask quietly and he chuckles.

"Trust me, I only know because I was looking for the same signs." He says, looking ahead.

"Wait, you like me too?" You ask.

"Mhm. After we wrap up this case and the other one we are working on, I'd like to have you over for dinner." He says.

"I'd like that a lot." You say softly, your cheeks flushing red.

"Alright, we got prints but that's all." Tony says once you arrive.

You walk into the house and look at the end table and grab the notepad.

"License plate." You say and Tony grabs it, looking at it confused.

"She etched it in?" He asks.

"You do what you have to do. Plus he would've saw it and I'm sure we would have found her already, just not the way we wanted." You say, doing your own investigation.

"Name." Gibbs says, grabbing a candy wrapped off the ground.

"She probably didn't think Bebe would've witnessed it all." You murmur as you knew who it was.

"What's this?" Tim asks.

You walk into the living room again and see the TV was glitching and you laugh. Soon Lexi's face was on the TV.

"Oh thank god. I knew you'd be there." She says.

"We are coming for you Lex." You say.

"The twins, are they alright?" She asks.

"Yes, they are. Are you okay?" You ask.

"A little roughed up, but you should see him." She says with a grin and you smile slightly.

"Just be careful. If he loses his temper, it will be bad. Don't antagonize. Just comply with whatever he says. I'm hurrying. Do you know where your at?" You ask.

"I kind of stole his phone and I'm using it to somehow hack into your router so that I can display this. I'm in the back of a truck. It's a semi-truck. It's been moving ever since he left. I don't know where he is taking me." She says.

"Did he say anything to you?" You ask.

"He's rambling. It's like he's having some psychosis episode." She says.

"He might've mentioned where he's bringing you though, Lexi. Think." Gibbs says.

"He said something about a desert and a cabin. He also said he was going to tattoo my date of death on me. That's what that tattoo on your thigh is, isn't it?" She asks.

"Yeah. He's taking you back to where everything happened with me. Okay. Listen to me. If I don't get there before he does the tattoo and the barrel, don't panic. Slow breaths. It will give us more time to find you." You say seriously.

"Barrel? What the hell did he do to you? And is he actually the twins' father? Were you guys dating or something?" She asks.

"He's a sociopath, Lexi. I was really hoping he'd do some ransom thing but clearly he is still just as delusional as he use to be." You say.

"Oh shit. I've got to go." She says and the video cuts out.

"I think we need to review your case." Gibbs says.

"He kidnapped me. He proceeded to SA me. Lexi is safe there. He happens to like (your hair color). She's (her hair color). However he doesn't like (her hair color). That was who we were finding in the barrels. Well, then he tattooed the day he thought I was going to die, but little did he know I had a whole team ready to bring me home. So, I wasn't in the barrel long. A few hours, but that's it." You explain.

Gibbs and you run in from the front, Tony and Ziva going in through the back with Tim following not long behind him.

"Zayn, where is she?" You ask, your gun on him.

"I want my kids. Give me my kids." He snaps.

"They aren't your kids. You'll never be a father to them. They are my kids and I'd be damned if you ever try to get near them again because if you try, I'll shoot you." You say lowly, further pressing the gun against his temple to get the point across.

"And they say I'm crazy." He laughs.

"She isn't crazy. She's a mother and a mothers love for their children is such a crazy thing because a mother would do anything for their child. She's fiercely in love with those kids and she will fiercely protect them, no matter what." Gibbs says, hooking his arm around your waist and pulling you back.

Tony arrests him and you step out of Gibbs' hold and head outside. You knew he wouldn't have put her close to the cabin. He would have gone a bit further out. But, it would be close enough to his property so he could see it. You get to the edge of the hill and look over it before something sparkles in the sun. You start hurrying down the hill as Gibbs yells for you to wait.

You kneel and grab it. It was her ring. You shove it in your pocket before digging around, pushing the sand away when you see the top of the barrel. You start to lift the lid and toss it to the side.

"Y-Y/N?" She whispers.

"Oh baby. It's okay. I'm here. I promised I would be here." You murmur as your team joins you.

Tony helps get her out of the barrel and you sit next to her. She leans her head against your chest before breaking into tears. You shush her softly, petting her hair.

"He told me what he did to you. He told me everything. Why did you lie to us? You went through all of that alone and had no help. And we were so hard on you because we thought you should've worked it out. We didn't know he did those things." She sobs.

"Lexi, shhh...I didn't say anything because I didn't want to be treated any different. Your okay and I'm okay. I didn't take anything you guys said to heart because I knew you guys didn't know." You explain softly.

"What do you think of my tattoo?" She says, trying to smile and you look at her leg.

"I think you've got one hell of a story to tell. Don't look at it and think of this. Think of it as surviving. Because you did survive something horrific." You said.

"I don't even feel scared. I never felt scared once because I knew you'd find me. I did what you said to. Slow breaths. Because I knew you'd find me. I don't even care about that tattoo. This should bother me more than it is, but it isn't." She says.

"You could be in shock." Tim says.

"No. Not in shock. Right, look at my pupils." She says.

"She's right. She isn't in shock. She use to be a nurse." You explain.

"Your a strong girl. And you know your aunt well. You knew she'd find you. You are very brave after today." Gibbs says.

"Can you walk?" You ask.

"I'm not going to lie, I think I sprained my ankle." She says.

"How did you do that?" You ask confused.

"I full on round house kicked him, but then I screwed up my footing. I sooooo could've got away if I didn't screw that up. It so reminded me of this movie. I felt like a total badass too. Then I ruined it." She says and you couldn't help, but laugh.

"Well come on. I'll carry you up." You say.

"What? You can't do that." She says.

"Piggy back ride? I think I can." You say.

After getting situated, you start up the hill with your team. You had Tony and Gibbs on either side of you, in case you lose your footing. Lexi was babbling on with Tim about some game.

You move off of Gibbs, laying your head on his bare chest as you move the sheets up to cover your bare body.

There was a comfortable silence between the two of you. It has been a little of six months since it had became official between you both. He stayed over at your house almost every day. You had been over to his house a few times, but you didn't like being away from the twins for long.

He noticed that and quickly made sure to make it your house that you guys went to most of the time. He found himself thinking about how you use to be so eager to get home and frustrated when you couldn't leave yet because of a case and yet, now he knew why you were so eager to get home. You had two wonderful kids that you adored fiercely and he found himself loving them just as you do.

"Okay, I've realized something." He murmurs.

"And what is that?" You ask softly, tracing random patterns on his chest.

"I'm so in love with you and I think it's time you become Mrs. Gibbs number five. Okay, you may end up Mrs. Gibbs number five, however I want you to be the last Mrs. Gibbs." He says.

"Wait...are you...purposing?" You ask, sitting up on your elbow to look at him.

"Not yet...I want to purpose the way you deserve it. But, what do you think?" He asks.

"I...I've honestly been wondering when your going to ask the damn question." You admit as you laugh softly and he joins you.

"Soon." He promises.

"I know you ain't crazy about the whole idea of getting married in front of people unless it's a judge, but if this is gonna be the only time I get married, I want the whole experience." You say and he chuckles.

"Then we better give you the experience because this is the only time you'll be getting married." He says and you laugh.

"Mrs. Y/N Gibbs...I like the sound of that." You murmur.

"Hm...me too. What about Adeline Gibbs and Alexander Gibbs?" He suggests and you cover your mouth as your eyes water.

"Y-You'd really want that?" You ask softly.

"Of course. I love them like they are my own. They are my kids." He says, his own eyes watering and you grin.

"I'd love that. And what about Luna Shannon Gibbs and Leroy Jethro-Arlo Gibbs?" You ask and he shoots up, looking down at you confused.

"Why are you trying to change the twins' names?" He asks.

"Well...actually. I'm not." You say softly.

It was quiet as he looked down at you with a confused look. You waited, smiling softly as you knew he was about to figure it out.

"Your pregnant...with twins?" He asks.

"Mhm." You hum.

"Wow...this is...amazing. For Luna...can we do Luna-Kate Shannon Gibbs?" He asks.

"Of course. I love that. Kate would be honored." You murmur.

"I miss her still. It's been almost what three or four years and I still miss her." He admits.

"I miss her too, Jethro. She was a good women, but she died doing what she loved most. She'll forever be remembered." You murmur, sitting up with the blankets wrapped tightly around your front.

He smiles, nodding in agreement.

"Mommy! Mommy! It's time to get up! It's our first day of school!" Adeline exclaims.

"Can we just keep them home forever?" You ask and he chuckles as he gets up to get dressed.

"No, we can't. Come on. You go shower real quick and I'll start breakfast. Then we will switch so that you finish it and I shower. Hopefully, we can all eat together and then we will take them to school and we will go work." He says.

You nod, sighing as you stand. You left the blankets on the bed and you look over at him to see his eyes on the tattoo from the unsub. You frown, covering it with your hand as you hurry to the bathroom and close the door. You heard him sigh and curse, but you needed a moment.

You were kind of sad that it was the twins' first day. You made sure to get plenty of pictures and now it was silent between Jethro and you on your guys' way to work.

"Baby?" He says.

"Hm?" You hum.

You were a little surprised he called you that. He typically only does when he's deep in thought or scared shitless. So, you clue it that he was deep in thought.

"I didn't mean to make you upset this morning." He admits.

"I wasn't upset." You say.

"You covered it and ran off to the bathroom like a dog with its tail between its legs." He deadpans.

"I wasn't upset though. I just...I wouldn't even say self-conscious. However, I know when you look at it, your putting every piece of what happened to me, together. You know what that date means. Anyone else will look at it and assume it's for someone or it's some joke. But, it's the day I was supposed to die. Plus, it kind of springs up memories on me. I need to get it removed, but I don't for the time for it and I don't want to be asked about it either." You admit.

"Baby, when I look at that...it just makes me realize what you've been through and how strong you are. You are a fighter and I love how strong and how brave and how fierce you are." He say and you smile slightly.

"I love you." You murmur.

"I love you too, hon." He says, grabbing your hand.

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tf-lover · 1 month

Note

I know I’ve already wished you a happy birthday but I can’t help the opportunity to do it here as well. Just wanted to make sure that you know I love you and that I feel proud to call you my boyfriend. You’re one of the kindest people I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing and I’m sure anyone who’s spoken to you knows that just as well. I feel so lucky to know you and have you in my life and I’m grateful that we were somehow able to meet through the unlikeliness of Tumblr messages of all places hahah! You deserve the world and I hope I’m able to give it to you ❤️

That said I’m glad you’re enjoying my present so far. It wasn’t easy to get my hands on that nanotech body suit. Expensive thing but well worth the money with how easily customisable it is at any time. I know you’re probably gonna be spending the majority of your time as a massive black stud but I can’t wait to see what other bodies you try out with all the customisation as well!

Of course I had to save the best of all of these birthday asks for last. ❤️

I couldn't ask for a sweeter man to call mine. That day I was bored at work and reading stories then messaged you from my main accidentally was one of the best and most unlikely outcomes ever. I wouldn't change a second of anything that led you to being the most wonderful boyfriend I could have asked for. I love you Mr Wavell, I can't wait for the rest of our days together.

That being said, I'm sure you all saw this picture I posted with the original post getting you to send asks in. That, if you can believe it was how I woke up! Already in the suit and programmed to look like my favourite stud, my boyfriend definitely knows me well. It was wild to say the very least waking up and feeling genuinely different; I thought I was seeing things at first until I rubbed the sleep from my eyes.

Of course then when he walked in and called me by this body's name I knew who was responsible. After all the roleplays we've done this was really taking it to a new level with him acting like he was totally unaware of me being anyone other than Ched.

Still, I've had plenty of other fun with the suit too!

Taken a ride through a load of my other favourite men's bodies and fucked or been fucked in all of them. Flipped my gender and spent an afternoon teasing him about being a straight guy whilst riding his cock and making him grope my tits. Became a copy of him too for a little bit just to play out the twin fantasy.

I've had all sorts of kinky fun to say the least, but at the end of the day we both know who I'm always coming back to.

Like you suggested I started playing around with the customisation settings this morning. How do we think dreads suit me? There's a few other surprises too, but you'll have to find those out for yourself. All the hint I'll give you is try sucking my nipples next time we're alone together and see what happens. 😜

Thank you again though for the new suit, and for everything else you do to make my life better with you in it. ❤️

#male transformation #racial transformation #my writing

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josephquinnswhore · 1 year

Text

PEDRO PASCAL Masterlist

Fluff: ☁︎ Hurt/comfort: ❀ Angst: 𖤐 Requested: 𐦍 Smut: ☾

Pedro Pascal:

• cancel culture - people have a lot of nasty things to say regarding the age gap in your relationship. ❀

• relapse - you’re a recovering alcoholic, Pedro sends you spiralling and to your demise. 𖤐︎

• baby, baby! - you’re pregnant with twins and find out halfway through your pregnancy. ☁︎

• don’t listen - Twitter is a brutal place when you post about the lgbtqi community. ☁︎ ❀

• cause for celebration - Pedro’s first Oscar Award show was a success. 𐦍 ☁︎

• settling in - buying your dream home for your family before you give birth to your baby. ☁︎ 𐦍

• finding our way back - after being broken up for two years; you and Pedro rekindle your relationship. ☁︎ 𐦍

• breaking point - in the paparazzi’s frenzy, you’re hurt and Pedro looses his shit. ☁︎ 𐦍

• polaroid - Oscar and Charlie are checking out an intimate photo of you and Pedro gets jealous. ☁︎ ☾ 𐦍

• his girl - unknown feelings between you and Pedro is admitted after some sexual tension. 𐦍

• accidents happen - you’re badly hurt during a stunt in a scene with Pedro. ❀ ☁︎ 𐦍

• family funtime- you’re Pedro’s girlfriend and meet the cast of the last of us. ☁︎ 𐦍

• content - after a hard week you and Pedro have a lazy day. ☁︎ 𐦍

• i’ve got you - pedro takes care of you on your period. ☁︎ 𐦍

• his voice - Pedro is hurt on the set of tlou. ☁︎

• the actor and the artist - the paparazzi make you wonder if you’re good enough for Pedro as a young upcoming artist. ☁︎

• i’ll wait for love - you’re in a bad relationship when you meet Pedro properly. What happens when you’ve healed and are available? ❀ ☁︎ 𐦍 ☠︎︎

Joel Miller: (the last of us)

• all for love - you and Joel aren’t seeing eye to eye, when he opens up he shows you how much he loves you. ☾ ☁︎ ❀

• I’ll be there for you - you’ve become Joel’s soft spot, reminding him of Sarah. ☁︎ ❀

• girl dad - Joel comes to terms with his new reality, finding it hard to accept Ellie isn’t his only daughter. 𖤐

• vanilla - you use your safe word but Joel doesn’t hear. ☾ ☁︎ ❀ ☠︎︎

• bittersweet - part 2 to “vanilla.” ☁︎ ❀ 𐦍

• a mothers strength - you and Joel’s daughter aren’t where he left you, when he finds your house empty, he begins to panic. ☁︎ ❀ 𐦍

• all it takes - you’re attacked by a clicker and it forces Joel to admit his feelings for you. ❀

• her sanctuary - Joel notices you pulling away from him and works hard to fix it. ❀

• little mouse - a mysterious biker saves you when you’re in peril. (a collab with @katiexpunk) ☾

• red wine & reparation - you and Joel are coparenting, but still secretly love each other. ☾

Ellie Williams: (the last of us)

• can(t) do casual - you break the one rule of yours and Ellie’s arrangement; don’t get attached. ☁︎ ❀

Javier Peña: (narcos)

• saviour - you’re captured by Pablo Escobars men as a wager against Javier. ❀

• confessions - you’ve fallen for notorious womaniser Javier Peña, a bad date leads him to confess his true intentions. ☁︎ ❀

Frankie Morales: (triple frontier)

• baby blues - frankie realises just how much you’re struggling with your newborn baby and vows to be better. ❀

MULTI-PART SERIES FICS:

Din Djarin: (the mandalorian)

• walls come tumbling down - you and the infamous Mandalorian go through a series of events that either bring you closer or seperate you. (completed series) ☾ ☁︎ ❀

Oberyn Martell: (game of thrones)

• eternal destiny - reader meets a handsome man at the markets, her destiny set for her once she receives her mark. Join her as she finds her soulmate and they embark on their journey. (ongoing series) ☾ ☁︎ ❀

Dave York: (equaliser 2)

• thirteen days - everyday, you live a life of normalcy; children, a loving fiancé, and an incredible home. Nothing exciting ever happened; until you’re dragged into Dave’s personal business. You’re being held for ransom until Dave is held accountable for his actions; he has 13 days to save you. (Ongoing series.) ❀ 𖤐☁︎

CHARACTERS COMING SOON:

• Jack Daniels “Agent Whiskey” (Kingsmen: the golden circle)

• Javi Gutierrez (the unbearable weight of massive talent)

• Ezra (prospect)

divider was made by @saradika

header & warning made by @cool-iguana

#Pedro pascal #Masterlist #josephquinnswhore #din djarin #Javier Peña #joel miller #Oberyn Martell #Frankie morales #fic x reader #series x reader #din djarin series #Oberyn Martell series

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leupagus · 19 days

Text

I firmly believe Stannis is the Westerosi equivalent of the dad who hates cats, doesn't want to get a cat, makes a big deal about not liking the cat, and ends up being the cat's absolute favorite (except instead of a cat it's a huge fuckoff direwolf with boundary issues)

The door to the workroom opened and Ghost bounded inside, snuffling at Stannis's hands. Lady Stark, following behind, narrowed her eyes at him as she closed the door.

"You fed him something recently, didn't you?" she said. Ghost, finding nothing, gave a disapproving huff and flopped down by the fireplace.

He had, but that was besides the point. "What are the Knights of the Vale doing here?"

"Just don't give him chicken, we had a terrible problem with the henhouses when they were puppies," she said absently, and circled round to sit at her chair on the far side of the work table. "I brought them here for you."

Stannis, still standing, paused. "For me?"

"Yes, for you. I can't bend the knee, Your Grace. Not yet. But I'm not entirely useless."

"Of all the adjectives I've thought to describe you with, 'useless' has never been one of them."

She smiled at that and looked down at the papers strewn across the table. "Littlefinger — Lord Baelish," she corrected, "had plans for the North. Marrying my Aunt Lysa and becoming Lord Protector of the Vale wasn't enough for him; he wanted more."

"How much more?" Stannis asked as he took his seat again. He was already well able to guess the answer.

"Everything," she answered, a distant look in her eye that Stannis did not like. "He wanted to marry me off to the Boltons. I think the plan was for you you to come sweeping down from the Wall and either take Winterfell or kill out enough of the Bolton forces to weaken them. At which point Littlefinger could come riding to my rescue with the Knights of the Vale. He'd have a ward at the Vale who looked to him for approval, and a new Lady of Winterfell who'd be grateful to him for saving her from monsters twice over." She nodded at his moue of distaste. "Yes, well, he always did consider me one of his cyvasse pieces, to be moved around the board as needed."

Stannis had avoided Baelish at King's Landing, insofar as he could while both of them served on Robert's Small Council. But he well remembered how Baelish spoke of women, how effortlessly he used them and used them up. What damage had he inflicted on a young, friendless girl while he'd had her in his custody? No wonder Lady Stark had fled from him at the first chance of escape.

If that's what had truly happened. The story from the Riverlands was that Baelish had been killed by his own men, and there was no reason to doubt it — such a treacherous man would have succumbed to treachery sooner or later. But Lady Stark had proven herself capable of surprising things, these past months.

It didn't bear thinking of too closely. He cleared his throat. "The Vale, the North — if Baelish wanted the Iron Throne, he'd have needed more than two kingdoms at his command."

"The Riverlands probably would have been next," said Lady Stark with a frown. She pawed through the papers and pulled out a book. "I've been going through the maester accounts, such as they are, from the time my father left Winterfell until now," she said, flipping through it. "There are gaps, obviously, but Maester Wolkan's been keeping remarkably faithful records. Including copies of every raven scroll." She passed the book over to him, tapping at a particular passage. "This was sent to Roose Bolton from the Twins, only a few days before we began the siege."

"'The Blackfish traitor has stolen Riverrun from us. In the name of fellowship among the new Lord Paramounts and the victors over House Stark, we ask for your aid in catching this damned fish and roasting him on a spit.'" Stannis set the book back on the table with the peculiar urge to wipe his hands clean. "Walder Frey was always a craven. Wanting everyone else to fight his battles for him."

"He didn't even have the courage to murder my brother himself," said Lady Stark, taking back the book and closing it with a snap. "Though I've been told it was his son who murdered my mother. A great warrior family, clearly. Plus he doesn't know it's 'Lords Paramount' and not 'Lord Paramounts.'"

Stannis had seen flares of temper from Lady Stark before (on any number of occasions), but the icy rage in her voice gave him pause. Not for the first time, he considered how very merciful she had been with him, in the end. A man responsible for his own brother's murder, when she herself had lost her brother to the very basest of treachery — what might she have done to him, if he'd been anyone other than the rightful king?

Even as he wondered, he knew that his titles had not been what had stayed her hand in judgement. The Starks had never been particularly pragmatic, mostly to disastrous ends, and for all her intelligence Sansa seemed to have inherited a fair helping of the Tully pig-headedness on top of the Stark romanticism. King Stannis would have had no better luck against her judgement than Lord Stannis or Ser Stannis or even Goodman Stannis; it had been for some other reason she had spared him. He wondered when the bill would come due, and if it would ever be in his capacity to pay it.

Lady Stark had continued on. "I haven't found any record of a message sent back to the Twins, but I doubt the Boltons sent one. Lord Bolton were never much for rousing himself for anyone else's interests, even before he betrayed my family. I sent a raven to House Mallister of Seaguard; he sided with Robb during the war, and the Mallisters have always been loyal to House Tully." This time she handed over a scroll, flattened out but still curling slightly at each end.

It was only a bit longer than Walder Frey's, and about as useful. Blackfish holds fast; they have supplies within to last two years or more, and the siege set by the Freys will not last half a season. Brynden has not called the banners of the Riverlands, for Lord Tully is still hostage to the Freys. But if Lady Stark should call, Mallister will answer.

"'If Lady Stark should call,'" he repeated wryly.

"Lord Mallister bounced my mother on his knee when she was a babe, Your Grace," she said, equally wry. "All the oaths of fealty in the world can't replace the bonds of family and friendship between the northern Houses, even those not in the North itself."

"So I am beginning to understand," he said, handing the scroll back. "So the Twins are undefended at present."

"Most likely — Lord Frey is still there, but the bulk of his army will be at Riverrun." She leaned forward. "I've spoken with Lord Royce; he swears to me that Lord Arryn will bend the knee if you lead the Knights of the Vale and your own army and take the Twins. From there, you'll be able to break the Frey's siege at Riverrun — you'll have both the Vale and the Riverlands in a matter of months."

It was a fine strategy, but Stannis couldn't help but feel vaguely offended by it. "Do you mean to tell me that because you refuse to bend the knee, or promise any of your own army to my cause, you've delivered the Knights of the Vale and a promise of House Arryn's fealty as a...consolation prize?"

Lady Stark shrugged. "I suppose so," she admitted. "But a prize, nonetheless. I've only known Lord Royce since I was a guest at the Eyrie, but he seems an honorable man."

"He's an able commander, which is more to the point," Stannis contradicted absently, frowning down at the desk as he mulled it over. Two thousand men was no very great sum — but the Knights of the Vale were one of the best cavalry forces in the kingdoms, for all that they rarely strayed outside their mountains. With the Knights, Stannis's army could divide and take each half of the Twins in a pincer. It would be over nearly before it began.

"Of course, how foolish of me to consider such petty things as honor," grumbled Lady Stark.

Stannis ignored that. "Which leaves the Iron Islands to deal with. Has Lord Greyjoy sent any word?" Even the honorific stuck in his craw. Balon Greyjoy, the only other "king" to survive the war. Stannis had regretted the man's existence ever since the Greyjoy Rebellion.

Lady Stark shook her head. "Nothing. We've beaten back the last of the Ironborn holdouts, but I doubt they'll begrudge us that. My father always said the iron price never spent well. And they rightly blame the Boltons for whatever might have happened to Theon."

Which was still a mystery, so far as Stannis could tell. Theon Greyjoy had not been found among the dead at Winterfell, nor at the Dreadfort. If he'd escaped, there'd been no sightings reported. "No doubt you'll wish to execute him yourself, if he's found, but it would be better—"

"Execute Theon?" she said, her brow furrowing. "I — no. I don't wish that."

He leaned back in his seat. "You surprise me, my lady. I wouldn't have thought you squeamish after all this time." Perhaps that was his answer: she'd spared himself and Lady Brienne not out of principle but cowardice. In a way, it might be a relief: or at least it would be easier to understand.

She looked away. "Father did always say that whoever passes the sentence should swing the sword."

"That's not an answer. Your kindness does you credit, my lady, but if you show too much your people won't fear you. Which means they won't follow you, when the time comes." He'd said the same thing to her brother, more than a year ago when they'd argued over the fate of the wildlings and the drawbacks of mercy. The Lord Commander hadn't heeded the advice; was it a Stark family failing?

It must be, for Lady Stark sighed in frustration and said, "I don't want to be feared, Your Grace. And though you've failed to notice, I'm in no need of anyone following me anywhere. I'm staying—" She broke off and shook her head. "This always happens," she muttered, an odd smile tugging at her mouth.

He frowned. "What always happens?"

"This," she said, gesturing vaguely at the distance between them. "We can't go five minutes without arguing about something."

"That's not true." She sighed again and he reconsidered. "Perhaps if you didn't contradict everything I said."

"Perhaps if you had sisters, growing up," she countered. "My mother always said Arya and I were more trouble than all five of the boys put together." Her expression darkened and Stannis followed her thoughts — Theon had been one of those five boys. Raised alongside the rest of them, within these very walls.

"I thought you would want him dead," he admitted. "More than anyone else in the North."

She got to her feet and went over to the window, resting her arms on the sill as she looked out onto the courtyard. Stannis rose and joined her: down below were a dozen carts piled high with hay. All around them men and women were busy unloading the bales and stacking them up in a corner, where more workers took them away in a brisk line deeper into the Keep. Each cart was in the courtyard only a few minutes; when it was empty, the driver mounted up again and drove slowly out through the great gates, replaced by another cart yet more heavily laden. Supplies from the Northern Houses, to lay in for the oncoming winter.

"I don't want Theon dead," said Lady Stark after a long while observing in silence. He glanced over to her, but she was still looking down at the carts. "I don't want anyone dead, Stannis — there's been so much death. And more coming, if what Jon told you about the White Walkers is true."

She'd never called him by his name before; indeed she didn't seem aware she'd done it. "I believed him," he replied. "I still do. Your brother didn't seem the sort to make up stories."

"He always was honest to a fault," she said, turning to look at him at last. Her blue eyes were bright — tears, unshed. "I wish he'd come with you."

So did he, he realized. Not for his skill in battle or his perception or bravery: but only so his sister would not look so devastated at his loss. "He took an oath to the Night's Watch," he said, cursing at himself for his clumsy words even as he did so.

"I know that," she huffed. "Five minutes without arguing, is that really so difficult?"

"Evidently," he conceded, and she laughed. A watery sound, and she pressed the heels of her hand to her eyes quickly as she turned back toward the table, but laughter nonetheless.

#got: bitches get stuff done #game of thrones motherfuckers #I do love sansa accidentally endearing herself to stannis via being a bitch and also a fellow grammar pedant #what's that meme?#'whatever souls are made of yours and mine are the same stuff (derogatory)'#that's the vibe I get from these two assholes #anyway for reference this is post-regaining-winterfell #and post-stannis-and-brienne-being-dumb-and-sansa-yelling-at-them-a-lot #it's way after most everything else I've posted but I just finished this scene and was very proud of it #so as ever: you're welcome/I'm sorry

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adrunkskeletonsduck · 1 year

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hey bestie bae <3 how are you doing? I was wondering you if you could write an neteyam x twin!sister!reader where they are best of friends and did everything together and is heartbroken when he is injured, maybe she saves him or maybe she doesn’t. That would be great! <3 please keep up the great writing and have a great day! <3333

I found this a bit funny bc I actually have a twin brother and we’re pretty close. Not attached to the hip typa close but still close.

Oɴᴇ Lɪғᴇ Eɴᴅs, Aɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ Bᴇɢɪɴs

➜ Pairing: Neteyam & twin!sister!reader

➜ Summary: Two peas in a pod. You couldn’t imagine your life without your twin brother in it, he meant the world to you and there was nothing you wouldn’t do to keep him safe. Including give your life for his.

➜ Warnings: Death, mentions of blood, heavy angst

➜ Word Count: 2.0k

➜ Notes: I almost cried writing this, so respectfully I hope it rips your hearts out <;3

Aᴠᴀᴛᴀʀ Mᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ

All your earliest memories included Neteyam, there were very few that he wasn’t in, even the more recent ones. The two of you had pretty much been glued to the hip since birth. Two peas in a pod. You couldn’t fathom a life without him, and he couldn’t fathom a life without you.

One of the earliest memories you had was your fourth birthday. You and Neteyam were sitting together, grinning stupidly as your family (which only consisted of you, Neteyam, your parents, mo’at a baby Kiri and Lo’ak) sung ‘happy birthday’ around you. Then when they’d finished, Mo’at scooped the two of you up, easily balancing the two of you in her arms and smothering you both in kisses. The ticklish sensation throwing both you and Neteyam into a fit of giggles, while Mo’at continued to pamper you.

“How big and strong my grandchildren are becoming!” she’d said, smiling at the two of you as she set you down. You remembered the matching wood carved charms she’d gifted you both that birthday; you’d clipped them onto your songcords, and then run off into the forest together, Neytiri following behind you both closely.

You grew extremely close over the years, almost never leaving the others side as you learnt the ins and outs of life together. You told each other everything, and you could still remember the first secret of yours you’d entrusted him with.

You’d run up to him grinning wildly, a few teeth of your missing like they would have been for a eight-year-old. You’d plopped down in front of him, whispering – or trying to – to him that you had a crush.

“But you can't to tell anyone!” you’d exclaimed immediately after the confession, looking at him very seriously. His eyes had widened, nodding in affirmation to his next statement.

“I won't,” he’d promised like it was the most important secret in the world. At the time it very well might have been, and to this day he hadn't told a soul.

You built the trust between the two of you through wordily affirmation and experiences until you could confidently say you trusted him with your life, and he intern trusted you with his. You knew, that if there was a need, you’d give your life for his without a second thought, although you hoped it would never come to that.

But sometimes people just aren't so lucky.

“Go!” You could barely hear his voice over the deafening berate of gunfire as he yelled the order. Bullets clattered against the metal of the ship as you pressed yourself into the wall. Lo’ak and Spider were quick to comply, running to the railing rimmed pool and diving into the water, but you stood firmly next to Neteyam. Two peas in a pod, you wouldn’t leave him behind.

He glanced over his shoulder as he ducked further behind the wall.

“What are you doing here? You need to go tsmuke!” you shook your head, stubbornly.

“I’m not leaving you!” you screamed over the gunfire. Neteyam grunted, shifting the gun in his hand. There was no use trying to convince you to go by yourself, that would just waste time. The one thing you didn’t have. Neteyam glanced down at the gun in his hand, there wasn’t enough ammunition in it to cover the both of you properly if you made a run for it separately anyway.

“Okay we go on my count,” you nodded, pushing yourself off the wall and getting ready to run.

“3,”

“2,”

“1.” Neteyam turned sharply, using the last of the ammo in the gun to fire in the direction of the Avatar shooting at you, before discarding it and bolting towards the pool.

You saw it in slow-motion as you looked back, the sound of gunfire amplifying tenfold and mixing with the ringing in your ears. Bullets whizzed past the two of you, and something in your gut told you he wasn’t going to make it in time. All you knew in that moment is there was no way in hell you were going to let anything happen to him.

Just as he jumped to dive over the railing, you reached out almost instinctively, pulling his body to the side so you were in front of him as you dove into the water side by side. You felt something collide with you, something small, and fast. You didn’t even have time to understand what had happened before red-hot pain, bloomed right above your breast.

Your scream of agony was muffled as your body hit the water and searing hot pain overtook your senses. It was blinding, only being amplified with every shift of your body as you pushed your body to the surface. Your brain scrambled to grasp reality, through the feeling of burning nerves and weight of water pushing you down.

“Neteyam!” you gasped, breaking to the surface and doing your best to stay afloat. One hand cupped your chest that was bleeding profusely, turning the water around you a deep shade of red.

He turned at the sound of your voice calling his name, and his heart dropped, eyes widening at the sight of hazy red water that surrounded your struggling form. He rushed to your side, eyes raking over you looking for the source of your bleeding until his eyes landed on your hand, right over your lung and panic overtook him.

No, no, no. This couldn’t be happening. He thought, he couldn’t lose you; he needed you.

As a child he would sometimes find himself imagining a life without his twin sister, he remembers the way his stomach would churn at the mere thought of it, and his mind would move on to happier thoughts. Those same nights dreams of losing you would haunt him. He would wake up with a thin sheen of sweat coating him, before his eyes would settle on your sleeping form and his heart would slow its raging pace. He’d lay down, shaking the contents of the dream away and drifting of to sleep again.

He hoped this was just another nightmare that his mind had cooked up to screw with him. He’d wake up and you’d be right there, sleeping soundly by Neytiri and Tuk across the Murui pod like you did every night. Your chest rising and falling steadily against the threaded sea grass top you’d made with Tsireya. No one came to wake him though, and no matter how hard he hoped his mind didn’t pull him out of his sleep, because there was nothing to wake up from.

“She’s shot! Help me!” He called to Lo’ak and Spider frantically, hoisting you onto the ilu. You hissed in pain as they moved you. Tsireya helped pull you up, holding you against her as you took shallow breaths.

You couldn’t really focus on anything as the ilu sped away from the Demon Ship, lost to your faint thoughts of death and slow mind.

Your body slid against the rocks, jagged edges scraping against your skin uncomfortably as they push you onto the sturdy surface. The waves crash against the rock, a sound that you would consider soothing if not for the circumstances. Your face is pale, breath shallow and rapid, your ears are ringing and your adrenaline is starting to fade. Everything is slippery, wet and somehow sticky and even now, when you're bleeding out and dying it makes you feel gross.

The soft breeze is chilling to your wet form, and the gentleness of it is unfitting for such a scene. Your head bumps against something as your set down, and you hear the screech of an Ikran infront of you, feel the rough wind its wings bring as it lands, and see its head peeking out into your field of vision. Then its gone, replaced by your father's face as he rushes over to you. Your eyes shift to Neteyam who sits next to you looking helpless, and you reach out to him, looking for his hand. He gives it to you, clasping your hand in his.

Your wound screamed as Jake moved you, curses falling from his lips before he set you back down on your back. You're struggling to breath, eyes unfocused as the dart to each member of your family, desperately trying to memorize their features before you go. The older sister in you notes that Kiri and Tuk are missing but you can't focus on the thought to much. You don’t have the energy.

“Why would you do that?” Neteyam whispered, and your barley hear his words. If you had the energy you would smile, squeeze his hand and tell him that you didn’t regret any of it, because you don’t. But you can't. So instead leave him without an answer and focus on your breath, focus on the pressure of Lo’aks hand over your wound, and the feeling of Neteyams hand in yours, focus on your mothers' eyes and your fathers worried expression. You can sort of Tsireya in the back, a frown on her lips, just like all the rest of them and you focus on that to.

You want to tell them it's going to be okay, that there's no need to worry, but you're not a lair, so you opt to something more truthful.

“I want to go home,” you whimper through grit teeth. Even your own words sound faraway now and you realize this was how you were going to die. But you didn’t to die, you had so much to live for, so much to experience. You had just begun to settle into life with the Metkayina, just begun to learn the ocean and the reef, just begun to make friends. You were only 15 years old; you had your whole life ahead of you, you didn’t want to die. You weren't ready. How was that fair?

“We’re going, we’re going,” Your father reassures. He sounds helpless, broken. You think he’s lying for a moment, but then they’re faces start to fade from your field of vision and you’re truly to weak to care. Only able to think about the fact that you aren't ready yet. That you don’t want to die, not like this.

The world fades, all sensations put to a halt and it's like a weight is lifted of your shoulders, despite your reluctance you can't help but feel relief. The heaving of your chest stops, and your nerves aren't burning with pain anymore, and there's no more crashing of waves, there's no bitter chill biting at your skin or sticky blood coating you.

There's only a blinding white behind your eyelids, accompanied by the chirping of birds, a sunny warmth that touches your skin and warms your soul as soft grass caresses your skin. You feel a deep sense of peace take root in your heart, and you don’t question it as your eyes flutter open to be met with the lush forests of Pandora and clear blue skies.

“Y/n! Y/n!” A childish voice calls to you. You turn at the sound of your name and rustling of leaves pushing yourself to sit up. Neteyam bursts through the underbrush, young and bright, and smiling like he always was. He’s waving at you to get up.

“Common!” he says urgently, “I wanna show you what I made!” And then he’s dashing off in the direction he came again, leaving you to run after him with a giddy smile.

You were home again.

Taglist: @cherridile @aonungmybf @aurora-starwars

#adrunkskeletonsduck #asks answered #avatar requests #neteyam x reader #the sully family #sully!reader #neteyam sully #neteyam #avatar twow fic #avatar way of water #avatar #avatar fic #avatar 2 #neteyam x you #neteyam x y/n #neteyam fic #neteyam angst #neteyam fanfiction #angsty fic

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deliciousangelfestival · 3 months

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Secret Sorrows || 2 -B.Barnes

Summary: Former special ops, Bucky, seeks solace in a cold refuge to escape his past. However, his haunted history catches up, unraveling mysteries that persist relentlessly.

Warning: Domestic Violence. But Bucky will save the day.

Series Masterlist

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more.

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Bucky found himself in the role of Ethan's bodyguard after being hired. The following day, Y/N and Ethan shared a meal during breakfast, with Bucky standing guard alongside others. The surreal realization of Iris having a twin still lingered in Bucky's mind.

Amidst the routine, Ethan's ongoing grief manifested in his lack of appetite. A dropped spoon into his cereal soup signaled his distress, and he expressed, "I want to see grandma."

In her characteristically cold manner, Y/N replied, "She's coming. With grandfather."

Ethan's greeting turned into a nervous, almost startled, "Hii," as he spotted his grandfather approaching.

Bucky observed the sudden fear in the young boy and quietly inquired of a colleague, "What's wrong?"

The fellow bodyguard, Peter, responded hushedly, "The young master's grandfather from the mother's side, Jeremy Aston. He's strict."

Jeremy Aston. The name sent a shiver down Bucky's spine. He knew this person is the reason why Iris abruptly left the academy and never returned.

Bucky, seeking more information, asked Peter, "Where are the grandparents from the father's side?"

Peter replied, "Ethan's other grandfather is still in jail."

Peter added, "Miss Y/N became the legal guardian after the lawyer read the will of Ethan's father two days ago. The entire Van Alen family was furious because that means Miss Y/N now holds the reins as the CEO in the Van Alen business until Ethan comes of age."

Bucky remarked, "Wow, the lives of rich people are different."

Suddenly, an announcement echoed, "Mr. and Mrs. Aston have arrived."

Ethan whispered with a trembling voice, "Grandpa is here too?" Then he looked at Bucky. Bucky recognized the expression, reminiscent of the fear he saw in Ethan's eyes in the Antarctic.

What made this kid afraid?

The door opened, revealing two elderly figures.

Jeremy Aston is an old-fashioned man known for his strict adherence to rules. Iris rarely spoke about her father, but when she did, Bucky could sense her fear.

Ethan, displaying a mix of excitement and apprehension, quickly abandoned his chair and ran to the older woman. "Grandma."

June Aston leaned down, enveloping her grandson in a warm hug. "My baby," she exclaimed.

The room buzzed with restrained tension as Jeremy observed the scene. Bucky, still on guard, couldn't help but wonder about the secrets concealed beneath the wealthy facade of the Van Alen and Aston family.

Jeremy brushed Ethan's hair, saying, "A big boy like you shouldn't cry."

Ethan replied with a tremor, "Yes, grandpa," seeking refuge in his grandma's arms.

"Y/N, come here," Jeremy ordered.

Y/N clenched her fists, and as she approached Jeremy, suddenly she felt her cheeks sting.

'SLAP'

The crisp sound of the slap echoed in the room. Pretending not to see, everyone turned their gaze away except for Bucky. He witnessed Y/N being slapped and falling to the ground.

How could a father do this to his daughter?

Ethan hid his face, and June looked away, her expression holding back tears. It became clear why Ethan sounded scared when his grandfather's name was mentioned.

Y/N remained silent, fixing her outfit as she stood up. Jeremy, angered, questioned, "How could my grandson get kidnapped, and it made into the news? You didn't do enough!"

Maintaining her composure, Y/N calmly responded, "It's my mistake. I won't let that happen again."

In a fit of rage, Jeremy pointed his finger at her forehead, pushing her head multiple times. "You better! Ethan is the heir for both families!"

The repeated pushes threatened to make her fall again, the earlier slap still stinging in her left ear. Suddenly, she felt her forehead no longer under attack and her back being supported.

It turned out Bucky was holding her back and had grabbed Jeremy's hand. Bucky asserted, "That's enough. She's an adult, not a kid."

Stunned, everyone remained silent. No one dared to challenge Jeremy, and even he was taken aback, exclaiming, "How dare you!!!"

Jeremy sensed a strange familiarity in the man before him, though he couldn't fathom knowing someone so rude. Pulling his hand away, he dismissed Bucky's touch as if it were contamination.

"Who are you?!" Jeremy demanded.

Safely behind Bucky, Y/N felt a sense of protection, like a formidable wall shielding her from a monstrous presence.

Bucky met Jeremy's gaze and calmly asserted, "I'm a bodyguard hired by Van Alen. My duty is to protect. Miss Y/N became the legal guardian, which means she's part of the Van Alen family."

Jeremy scoffed, disdain evident. "Who even wants to hire a rogue like you?"

A surprising voice interjected, "Me."

Both Jeremy and June were taken aback as Ethan stepped forward. Liberating himself from June's arms, he ran to stand behind Bucky.

Looking up at his aunt, Ethan noticed her reddened cheeks and a trace of blood on her lips. His aunt might be stern, but she was only strict. The absolute terror lay in his grandfather, scarier than any monster he'd read about in books.

With a determined look, Ethan tugged at the fabric of Bucky's pants, prompting him to bend down. Meeting the little kid's earnest gaze, Bucky felt his eyes welling up, a silent testament to the emotions stirred by Ethan's innocent yet profound words.

"My aunt didn't do anything wrong!!!" Ethan declared with a touch of defiance. "She kept me safe even though she always works and works. She never angry and yelled at me! But why does Grandpa always bully Aunt Y/N?"

Jeremy, caught off guard, never anticipated such a candid revelation from his grandson. His brows furrowed in confusion and disbelief while his hands clenched into fists.

"Wha-? I did that because your aunt did something wrong," Jeremy stammered, attempting to justify his actions.

Bucky, now standing tall, maintained a steady gaze on Jeremy. A steely resolve flickered in his eyes, accentuating the intensity of his emotions. The clenching of his jaw and the subtle tightening of his fists revealed the simmering anger beneath the surface.

"You made my boss cry," Bucky retorted, his voice carrying an undertone of reproach. Crossing his arms in defiance, he added, "You have 5 minutes to leave this place."

Fueled with anger, Jeremy pointed an accusatory finger at Bucky, "You!!!"

In response, Bucky swiftly intercepted, breaking Jeremy's pointing finger with a swift, assertive motion.

"You seem like a bully," Bucky declared his body language exuding strength and disdain.

Jeremy, frustrated and defeated, let out a primal scream, "Arrghh!!"

The room filled with Jeremy's frustrated scream, a primal roar of indignation. Meanwhile, Y/N, now composed and in control, directed her assistant with a commanding yet restrained tone, "Send my father to the hospital."

The assistant, responding promptly, acknowledged, "Yes, ma'am."

With these actions and reactions, the chaos that had erupted moments ago began to subside. Bucky's assertiveness had not only shifted the power dynamics but also brought a semblance of justice.

Y/N's relieved sigh carried a weight of exhaustion as her eyes met Ethan's. The unspoken understanding between them lingered in the air, a testament to their shared burden.

Ethan, adopting a defensive posture, declared, "This doesn't mean we're friends," before turning away and leaving Y/N behind. His uncertain addition, "Yet," hung in the air, leaving a trace of vulnerability in his wake.

Y/N couldn't help but scoff at the theatrics of her nephew's departure. However, beneath the surface, a storm of emotions raged within her.

Sensing her turmoil, Bucky approached and gently guided her to sit down. With a swift command, he arranged for a first aid kit, his concern etched across his face.

"I'm fine," Y/N insisted, but Bucky's stern response halted her protests.

"No, you're not. You just lost your sister, and your father hit you. That's not okay."

Y/N sighed, her words revealing the deep wounds of a lifetime. "That's how I live as an unwanted child."

Bucky flinched at her words, echoing Iris's similar sentiment haunting him. Memories resurfaced of a time when he and Iris skipped class, seeking solace under a tree. Iris, lying on his arm, had confessed, "In my family, I'm the unwanted child."

As Bucky thought about the parallels between Iris and Y/N, the mystery surrounding Y/N deepened. The shared tattoo and the mirrored expressions of sorrow all added layers to the enigma Y/N.

The atmosphere, thick with angst and uncertainty, hung over them. Bucky couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Y/N's story than met the eye. The question lingered in his mind like an unsolved puzzle: 'Who are you, Y/N?'

Author Note :

Hey friends,

If you've been enjoying the content, I've set up a Ko-fi account. Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating. Only if you feel like it!

Here's the link: Ko-fi

Thanks a bunch for being fabulous followers!

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blueeofsl · 8 months

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Okay so this is going to be a pretty long analysis on @somerandomdudelmao ‘s most recent update… Will have to be split into multiple posts because of pictures

Been staring at the post for a while and damn,,, imagine going from dying in an unforgiving wasteland to waking up in what I can guess is a soft mattress with a healthy portion of sheets and blankets. Like those are absolute opposites in terms of comfort

The fact that Leo wakes up with unfocused eyes (compared to his brothers, who almost immediately shoot up), tells us that he’s still expecting himself to be back in that apocalypse.

Also the frown he has in the middle panel, it’s probably just his face relaxing, but we see that it immediately goes to a frown. An “ugh, im so exhausted why am I awake?” Sort of expression. Which kinda continues to show in the last panel of this first page.

And in that entire time, Leo’s eyes never fully focus. Because he isn’t expecting anything good to happen for him. So why should he even try at this point when there’s no one left to save?

~~~~~

Which brings us to the next page. Zooming in, we can see that Leo is staring at the back of Donnie’s shell. Im guessing it takes him a moment to realize what he’s looking at because we get enough time to see Donnie struggle to stay awake. And knowing Donnie, this hints to Leo that this isn’t some sort of normal hallucination.

We can also see that Leo is on a soft bed, and is being consistently monitored by Donnie. I am wondering what Donnie is working on though. Maybe checking Leo’s vitals? A new prosthetic for Leo? Or maybe, for once, allowing himself to start to plan on a new invention. Something that doesn’t directly involve with whether the resistance will survive the next day or not. He shows this sort of stubbornness to keep himself awake until he’s sure that Leo is okay.

In the last panel we see Leo finally perk up as he crains his neck back to really get a good look at his twin. He probably notices how Donnie’s shell looks a bit wider, his arms a bit stronger. But maybe hasn’t fully recognized it yet. This is also probably where he lets his vision come into focus, and becomes more aware of his surroundings because oh shit, I’m not dying on packed dirt any more.

~~~~~

Moving on to page 3, Leo reaches out to Donnie to see if he’s real. These poses remind me of the first episode of the comics.

(Episode 1, part 7) Here we see Leo do pretty much the exact same hand motion as his tiny, little self. Which kinda tells us that Leo is moving purely on instinct, on emotion. His mind telling him to seek for that sort of comfort.

When he falls in the last panel of the recent comic, I feel like it becomes some sort of wakeup call for him. Because the fall from the bed to the floor is pretty far from what we see in page 2. And the noise of his shell hitting the floor was probably pretty loud too. Enough to scare Donnie out of what ever he was working on.

Would also like to take a moment to look at Leo’s scars, specifically the one on the shell. I realized it’s the scar from when Donnie had to forcefully pull his shell together by screws and wire. (Part 2 of Episode 11)

The fact that that scar is still on Leo’s shell shows us that it was an impactful moment for him (the revived turtles so far have shown that the scars/features that stay are those they think a lot about or have an emotional attachment to). He was lucky at that time. Because the rubble that caused that injury could have easily killed him. A wrong crack/break in the shell could have left him immobile for the rest of the war. But that’s where Donnie comes in because he knows that Leo would hate that.

The reason why the scar is so big on Leo’s shell now shows how much impact it had on his mind. At least that’s my guess…

~~~~~

Moving onto Page 4, we get a good view of Leo’s expression in all panels. First one shows pain, a wince. His arm looks to have twitched towards himself in order to protect his head. It could have also twitched because of Donnie’s sudden yell to him.

The second panel shows surprise. Because his twin is picking him off the floor. Symbolically speaking, this could mean that his family is here to pick him up now, to carry him over to better times.

This surprise is also towards the fact that Donnie is able to lift Leo when before, right on the day Donnie dies, it was Leo who was picking up Donnie.

Also notice how in this page, we don’t see Donnie’s face at all. Even when Donnie is lifting Leo up in the third panel, we just see the confusion on Leo’s face. And also, perhaps, a bit of fear. Maybe he was fearing whether or not this was a dream.

But heres the thing. Many have noticed the parallel of Donnie and Leo switching positions in who is carrying who. But I noticed another parallel in this page.

First panel in page 4 looks nearly identical to this page of Leo dying here.

When realizing this, the parallel just made that page so much more emotional to me.

Because Leo was expecting to be brought back to the apocalypse in his head.

~~~~~

Moving onto page 5, we get another good view of the scar on Leo’s shell. First panel though, love the Donnie face squish. There was no way he was gonna just let his twin sit on the cold hard floor when theres a bed right there.

This might be looking to much into it, but in the first panel, it looks like Leo is shaking too.

We also see that Donnie and Leo are the same size now, when before, Leo was larger than Donnie when the soft shell was sick.

The second panel again shows the emotion Leo is going through. To me, it screams “is this real? I can’t believe it. How is this happening?” And we can see that Donnie’s grip on Leo is strong and firm while Leo seems to sorta cling/melt into his twin.

In the third panel, Donnie is telling Leo to sit still. Perhaps this is because of how badly Leo is shaking, or the fact that he had just fallen out of bed. Either way, what seems as a command for a shitty patient has another meaning; that Leo is okay. He’s going to be taken care of, he just has to let his family take care of him. Just like how he took care of them and so many other people.

~~~~~

Page 6, We see Leo’s expression again, and the way his arm is still reached out from Donnie pulling it off his shoulder. It’s full of surprise but theres not much fear being shown except for the hollowness in his eyes.

Leo still doesn’t fully believe all of this is real. Then Donnie goes and starts moving around him, checking what’s left of his arm (some people are saying that it’s the first thing donnie checked. Also wondering if this could be him planning on a new prosthetic for Leo), and what I can guess is Donnie checking his heartbeat (the little white ninpo rectangle thing near Leo’s heart).

For Leo, this is quite overwhelming. He lets Donnie do his thing, but it’s been years since he’s seen his brother be so active around him. He shows signs of nervousness too, the wobbly line for his lips, and the way that his arm is tucked towards his middle, and his knees slightly pulled up and together. In that moment, he’s trying to make himself smaller.

Going back to scars again, notice the scarring on his neck. It’s the same injury from when he went to Donnie’s lab for guidance after almost getting his head bitten off by a krang dog. It’s another scar that’s left a large impact on Leo’s mind. Perhaps part of it is because of the krang dog, but another part I think is because of him yelling for Donnie.

~~~~~

THIS IS PART 1 OF ANALYSIS!

PART 2

PART 3

#rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #future leo #cass apocalyptic series #rise of the turtles #cass fanart tag #oof ive never made a post this big before…#hope it works

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yourhighness6 · 2 months

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What is your favorite Zutara headcanon?

I hope you have an amazing day! ^.^

I'm so sorry this has been sitting in my inbox forever! I haven't had a chance to answer asks and I kind of forgot about it, so I'm going to give an extra long answer to make up for it lol. I have a few that are tied for first and second, so bear with me.

Firstly, I absolutely love the idea of Zuko helping out Katara with the chores after he joined the gaang. It just makes sense that he would try to help her out, and that he would feel guilty and try to do extra work. Of course, it takes Katara awhile to actually appreciate his help, but after TSR they actually manage to have fun together while they're doing dishes and laundry together, and she can't imagine it any other way.

This one is kind of cheesy, but I love the idea of them both being musically inclined, but in different ways. Zuko is obviously great at the tsungi horn, but he's an absolutely awful singer, and Katara can't play an instrument to save her life, but she has the voice of an angel. They like practicing songs with each other to let off steam, and even after the war whenever Katara finds herself in the Fire Nation or Zuko in the water tribe, they still get together to make a bit of music. They're also both wonderful dancers, Zuko from growing up learning dances in the FN court, and Katara because it's a big part of her culture, and she also just thinks it's fun. Zuko never really liked to dance, because it reminded him of being boxed in at court, but Katara shows him some different steps and he actually enjoys himself for once. In an AU where they end up together, their kids grow up combining the dances of both their cultures and creating new trends in both the FN and the SWT.

This one isn't really Zutara-centric, but Toph teases the HELL out of them. She literally goes around making the snarkiest comments and she will not stop until they are both blushing like tomatoes.

In an AU where they get together, they are the second in the gaang to get married, after Suki and Sokka but before Aang and Teo (I said what I said). Their wedding is obviously a huge event, and Sokka and Aang are the groomsmen while Toph and Suki are the bridesmaids, obviously. Katara is super into wedding planning and picking out her dress. Uncle Iroh helps her with the plans and buys fireworks and organizes the guest list and Zuko rebels against the both of them at every turn because he doesn't really want a huge, ostentatious wedding. He eventually realizes that this is way more important to Katara than it is to him, though, so he stops trying to get them to tone things down and only helps her with the planning when asked, to give her all the creative freedom her heart desires. In canon (where they don't get together) I like to think that Zuko would be Katara's 'man of honor' at her wedding with Aang. Partially because of pining and angst, but mostly because they want to be there for each other and see each other happy, even if they aren't going to be the ones spending their lives together.

Zuko would be the first one to realize his feelings for Katara, but he'd be in denial for so long that by the time Katara realizes her feelings back, they're at about the same place when it comes to their relationship. She's the first one to say "I love you" and even though it takes him a little time to say it back, it's only because he's scared to be so vulnerable with someone at first. She gives him time, and his love confession ends up being simultaneously the most awkward and the most romantic thing in the world. Zuko is the one to propose and Katara says yes without question.

They end up having two kids, twin girls named Kya and Ursa after their mothers. Kya, the nonbender, is set to inherit the throne, and Ursa, the waterbender, has a special gift for healing. Zuko only wanted one kid because he was afraid of messing them up, but he ends up being a wonderful father. Katara is a great mother as well, of course, and she loves to teach Ursa waterbending while Zuko helps her incorporate firebending moves into her fighting style. Kya feels a little left out of these family training sessions at first, but Zuko teaches her how to use the dao swords, her Aunt Mai teaches her how to throw knives, and her Aunt Ty Lee teaches her chi blocking, so she's just as deadly as the rest of her family.

Katara's first project after becoming firelady is to help spearhead pollution reform and create industrial regulations that help the FN become more environmentally friendly. She eventually travels back to the village in "the Painted Lady" with her daughters to show them the value of respecting nature.

This one also isn't very zutara-centric, but I don't think Katara and Azula would ever really reconcile. Although she becomes good friends with both Mai and Ty Lee (who are dating, obviously), she can never forgive Azula for some of the most traumatic events of her life. Zuko and Azula do eventually have a healthy relationship after Azula realizes the error of her ways, but she decides to move away from the palace of her own accord. There are too many bad memories there.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed my headcanons! These are the only ones I can think of right now but I probably have more somewhere in my brain.

#atla #avatar the last airbender #zutara #zuko #katara #katara x zuko #zuko x katara #headcanons #zutara headcanon #asks #emmie babbles #emmie answers

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twistedwonderlandimaginesblog · 1 year

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Ah hello! I'd seen your post that you were accepting requests and I was wondering if perhaps you could do a request with Azul or the twins having a mermaid friend they'd known since childhood come visit them one day and they realize that they're in love with them?

I really hope this isn't too much and that it follows your rules, if not then please feel free to ignore! I hope you have a wonderful day my dear and keep up the amazing work!!!

Azul Ashengrotto:

Being an eel merperson, you had quite the effect on Azul when you first met him. He was already being pestered by two other eels which left him in denial about the little crush he had on you. It was something that was quickly squashed as Azul thought it really was just admiration for how you boldly took what you wanted and took up as much space as you felt like without a care in the world. It did help that you didn’t tease him the same way the tweels did, separating you from them in his mind so he could start to view you in a more romantic life. You had a kindness within you that they didn’t, a quality Azul himself didn’t have which he valued in you to an extent. When you come to visit it truly does feel like things had never changed, the comfort you had around each other remaining and the banter freely flowing. Azul had gambled with becoming your friend and won, but was he really willing to risk it all because of this inherent need to keep you by his side? He wasn’t sure if that was a deal he could sign off on.

Floyd Leech:

Being an octopus merperson, you had been a little shier when you were younger, perfectly brought out by a particular twin who couldn’t quite leave you alone. You had been scared that Floyd would tease you but there was a lack of animosity in his teasing remarks, something that had you feeling like you were on equal ground; you had no problem firing back when you had to. You had always swatted at him when he made comments about Azul which had worried the others at first, but the amused smile on Floyd’s face made him seem oddly happy about you striking back. The friendship was a little unexpected but it had proven to be long-lasting as you kept in contact with him even when he went away to NRC. He had whined often that he missed you and to just save up for the potion so you could visit him. Floyd doesn’t really question his newfound feelings for you as he never was one to disrupt his own flow, simply riding the wave and seeing where it would take him.

Jade Leech:

Being a shark merperson, you cut a rather intimidating figure and there weren’t many who willingly chose to befriend you. A life of solitude hadn’t mattered much to you until two insistent twins started bothering you, the less (outwardly) chaotic of the two proving as stubborn as a barnacle. You had begrudgingly accepted friendship at first but found the ocean was full of color when you viewed it alongside Jade. Jade, who was self-aware enough to know that the longing he felt wasn’t something he felt to just anyone, would be able ot properly prepare himself if he knew you were coming for a visit. But if you showed up suddenly as a surprise, in a human form he’d never seen before, there’s an unexpected typhoon of emotion that has him a little lost at sea. Neither Azul nor Floyd were used to seeing Jade go adrift like that, the twin ever prepared for most ‘surprises’ but it seemed you were one that his heart couldn’t account for.

#Disney TWST #Disney Twisted Wonderland #TWST #Twisted Wonderland #TWST x Reader #Twisted Wonderland x Reader #TWST Imagines #Twisted Wonderland Imagines #Azul Ashengrotto #Floyd Leech #Jade Leech #Azul Ashengrotto x Reader #Floyd Leech x Reader #Jade Leech x Reader

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jamminlocks · 1 year

Text

Special Pudding {Osamu M. x Reader}

Tags: F/M, Food, Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Soft Miya Osamu, confession, one shot, not beta read, pretty much idiots in love word count: 2,987 Summary: In summer days, you decided to make chocolate pudding for yourself. Not really trying to hide it. By chance, Osamu spots you eating some. The moment he had that first spoonful in his mouth, Osamu has liked your chocolate pudding since and from then on wants more. A/N: idk i just wrote this for fun edit: fixed some stuff [ao3]

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"Is that pudding?" Osamu asks, pointing at the moist container in your hands. It is, indeed, pudding. Not just any pudding, not pudding that's bought in the store, or something your parents made, It is your pudding, chocolate pudding. In the past weeks, you have been obsessively trying your hand in making some for yourself, mostly to stave off the summer heat. After many attempts, this was the best one. For a split second, you hesitated answering him, not wanting to share your hard earned work. Then, the thought of wow-ing Osamu with your new found specialty dessert pops up.

"Yeah, I made it. You want some?" You offer it to him. He stares at it, undecided and unimpressed.

"I dunno... it looks kinda bad."

"Oh c'mon! Since when did you pass the offering of free food?" you argue, scooping a spoon of the pudding and holding it up for Osamu. He suspiciously looks at you, more to just get an annoyed reaction. The spoon is taken from your hand and he slides it in his mouth. Once the spoon is gone, his jaw moves in a steady motion. Eyes close, focusing on the tastes. A small smile creeps on each corner of his mouth.

“See? I made good pudding.”

"Free food? More like a free sample if you're just gonna let me have one spoon." he digs the spoon into the pudding. Now, you are annoyed, "just a second ago you basically called it weird looking."

"And I'm coming back for another bite. Take it as a compliment."

You roll your eyes. "Fine, you can have more, here."

He also holds of the container of pudding, not tugging it away from you, taking one spoon after another. It's the first time you let Osamu eat anything you made and you are very, very glad that he likes it. Happy as you are, the pudding is already half empty and you've barely dug in yourself. Osamu is using your spoon after all.

"Hurry up! I wanna eat"

A muffled sound of reluctant agreement slips out of hus mouth, but he takes another spoonful before he returns it to you.

“Got anymore?”

“Last one. Sorry”

Osamu frowns as he watches you eat, like a child denied a cone of ice cream. It's clear that he'll be waiting for you to get enough then get some more again. You couldn't laugh properly, only chuckling with your mouth stuffed and closed. “Next time, when I make one I’ll save some for you.”

"Yeah?"

"Sure, why not?"

-◇-◆-◇-◆-◇-◆-◇-◆-◇-◆-◇-

As you spend more time experimenting and trying new recipes of desserts, you keep coming back to the chocolate pudding, youre practically perfecting it. Osamu always wants some when you tell him. A tupperware of pudding would be saved for him and you'd give it to him. He'd return it by the end of the week. The fastest was the day after you gave it to him. You often wondered if he even shares it with Atsumu and you hoped he did. Nothing wrong with someone else enjoying your food. That was until the blond twin ran up to you out of nowhere with furious determination.

"WHY DIDN'T CHA TELL ME THAT YER GIVING 'SAMU PUDDING??" he asked accusingly. Somewhat offended.

You squint, "wait, doesn't he share with you?"

"NO! He's been hiding it behind other stuff in the–"

"THAT'S 'CAUSE YA ALWAYS STEAL THE STUFF I BUY AND EAT THE FIRST THING YA SEE IN THE REFRIGERATOR!!" Osamu comes running up behind his brother. Roping him into light wrestling.

"THAT'S NOT TRUE," Atsumu claims but his voice falters with each movement.

"LIER!!! STOP BOTHERING HER ‘BOUT THIS!” The fight goes on. It's relatively tame compared to their other fights. You aren’t too worried about anything getting serious. Backing up a little to avoid any elbows and fist coming your way, you patiently wait for the brothers to cool down on their own.

“YOUR A GREEDY LITTLE SHIT THAT EATS FOOD THAT AIN’T YERS!”

"SAYS THE BASTARD WHO’S BEEN HOGGING AN ENTIRE CONTAINER OF PUDDING ALL TO YERSELF!"

But it seems the two are nowhere stopping from this. There is too much destructive energy emanating from them. You made a gable on your safety by placing a hand on each brother’s shoulder then pushing them apart.

"OKAY! OKAY! THE BOTH OF YOU SHUT UP!" they hesitantly stop, still scowling and sneering at each other with their eyes.

“Would you both quit it if I just made you two then? One for each of you.”

They are silent, more to give the other a cold shoulder than not having an answer. Atsumu pouts, crossing his arms, “sure. But I still can’t believe you were only giving him this entire time.”

“Well, sorry about that.” you said, actually feeling bad about leaving him out of it.

“Don’t. He’s a big pig”

“WHY YA LIL-”

You give them a harsh slap on their shoulders.

-◇-◆-◇-◆-◇-◆-◇-◆-◇-◆-◇-

On the occasions that the twins know you were making your chocolate pudding, you save two tupperwares for them. It was extra work but if it’ll keep them from complaining, that's extra peace of mind in your life. You are quite delighted that Atsumu enjoys it too. But, if you aren't assuming too much, Osamu seems to like it more. You aren’t surprised. Twins still have their own separate set of preferences. It's just that Osamu liking it more always makes your chest flutter. It’s embarrassing, you’d rather he not notice when you try to hold back a big smile.

Eventually, you began to grow tired of the sweet dessert and decided to stop for a while. You still loved it, but having too much too often wears off its specialness. It wasn’t really a big deal, that was until Osamu out of nowhere leaned his chin over your shoulder, arms around your waist, and asked, "Hey, when are ya gonna make chocolate pudding again?"

It confuses you, not really considering that he would notice that you’ve stopped. You put some thought into it. Will you make it? Not really in a mood for pudding, although you don’t mind if Osamu is asking. “It's almost winter and you still want some?”

“I mean, can I?” he said, uncharacteristically shy of him. It's kinda cute. But, you're not letting yourself be fooled if this is his way of persuading you. "You're gonna pay for half of the ingredients if you want me to make some.”

In an instant, he straightens up. Swirling you to face him and he looks at you with at most seriousness. “How much?”

You laugh, ruffling up hus gray hair for fun. "Come with me later to buy them. We can sort it out then”

His eyes practically glowed at your answers. And he does go with you to the market the day after, carrying the basket of ingredients as you pick and choose.

“Do ya really need this much when ya make yer pudding?”

“Yeah, I’m making it for Atsumu too.” The smile on his face disappears at the mention of his brother. He must really not like sharing his food with Atsumu. But its not like he needs to. After all, they get their own. He said, much like suggesting a bad idea he knows you'll deny, “Can you, like, not?”

“Don’t be like that. You two will fight again.”

Osamu knows you had a point. Still, he isn’t on board with it, glaring at the floor. The part of your heart that has a soft spot for the mellower twin weavers. “How about this, you get more cream on top than him. Sounds good?”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I can do that. It will cost you more though”

His arm wraps around your shoulder as you two walk through the milk aisle together, holding the basket on the other hand. “Fine by me.”

-◇-◆-◇-◆-◇-◆-◇-◆-◇-◆-◇-

For the next few years, your chocolate pudding has been in his top 20 in the desserts category, which means a lot since the guy can't seem to choose a single favorite food if anyone were to ask him. When the opportunity opens itself, he asks you to make some. Despite your differing schedules, very often, if not all the time, you do follow through. When you can't, he gets sad, which is adorable of him.

So, it's practically a given whenever you visit, there's a chance you have some with you. However, not once has he ever questioned why you do it without asking anything in exchange. The answer is always that it's not like it's an official service of yours. It was enough that he paid more than half the price. Plus, he is your friend, nothing wrong with doing favors for a friend. Though all of that is true, you just like how happy and satisfied he is with your pudding every time he takes a bite. And, well, you just really like Osamu and spending time with him.

This time around, the occasion is MSBY Jackals having a match in Hyogo. In celebration that Atsumu is in town, the team will have dinner in Onigiri Miya. At Atsumu’s request, you bring your chocolate pudding and he’s paying for it. Lucky for him, you are free that week. Osamu, on the other hand, took the chance to ask for more.g

"Could you make me extra pudding too?" He asks while you are on a call with him and it makes you laugh. "You missed my chocolate pudding that much?"

"It's hard not to miss good food" he states.

Out right implying that your dessert is one of his many likes is a sentiment you'll hold on to. You endearingly sigh to him through your phone. "Alright. That does mean you'll pay for your portion."

"Alright," he said, satisfied. Static sounds of clanking blurs his voice. "Don't tell 'Tsumu, by the way."

"Sure. But, don't get mad at me if he finds out, though."

"Never had been, have I?"

"That's true."

-◇-◆-◇-◆-◇-◆-◇-◆-◇-◆-◇-

The celebration comes and by the end of the night the chocolate pudding was as good as gone. A hit among the players. Their captain took three servings, so does Bokuto. When you offer one to their aloof member, Sakusa, it takes a bit of convincing. In the end, he eats some, giving you a mere 'its good', which is a big deal according to Atsumu. Hinata was lucky to get the last serving. You didn't even get a bite of your efforts, so it was a good thing that Osamu requested more. As promised, you didn't tell Atsumu of the extra stash of pudding you and Osamu hid. Once the restaurant closes and Atsumu is long gone with the rest of his team, you and Osamu head back to his place to eat the hidden treasure to end the night..

Fresh from the cool fridge, you both take your own servings of the chocolatey treat. Osamu is as happy as ever with each spoon of pudding he places in his mouth.

"didn't you eat a lot of this already? I'm surprised you could stuff yourself more with that," you point your spoon to him.

"Nothing wrong with extra dessert"

"You sure you won't get your stomach hurting?"

He laughs, a low rumble on his chest. "What am I, a kid?" Osamu doesn't give you the chance to answer, shifting his attention to the dessert at his hands, reveling at its taste.

"I might just kiss you for how good these puddings always are."

"Haha, sure," you say. Not fully registering what he just said, what you just said. Once it settles in, your skin spikes up into a panic, doing your best to not look at him and shoving a spoon in your mouth. Why did you say that? Why did he say that? That was definitely a joke.

"For real? I can?" He asks, clear and genuine.

The sirens are wailing at you to 'play it cool'. It's just a teeny-tiny kiss. You've had friends kiss your cheeks before. Osamu won't be any different. You may like him but he is still your friend too.

"Yeeeeeeahhh. Suuuuuuure," voice slightly stilted, waving a hand to downplay the situation. Just you merely entertaining the notion. In the grand tapestry that is your friendship, it's just a small thing that won't cause an unraveling. You close your eyes. No way you are looking at him. Placing a finger over your cheek, you say, "right over he-"

Osamu pecks you right on the lips. Your body stiffen up. The stickiness of the small bit of cream lingers. Without much of a big reaction from him, he says "Thank you for the pudding" and returns to focus on staring down on the pudding to scoop another spoonful.

"wah- why'd you do that" you ask, breathless from a single peck that barely lasted a second.

"Ya said I can, didn't ya?"

"ye. YEAH. BUT-" you're at a loss for words. everything is mixing up at a blender's speed. Confusion. Giddiness. Flabbergasted. Embarrassment. And you're quaking like a blender too. The only thing that's keeping you from losing sanity is Osamu's slowly blushing cheeks, proof that he is affected by it too. How is he so nonchalant about this, though? You place the serving of pudding over the kitchen table to save it from your slipping grip.

Taking another spoon of pudding in his mouth. He hums the way he always does when he likes the food he is eating. You could only stare, still confused. "This is so good," his words slightly garbled. Osamu turns to you, assessing your expression. Then, he dives back to kiss again before you can do anything. Just as quick as the first, like he is testing your lips. The softness of his gesture somewhat tickles you. “Really good.”

“Hey!” you try to catch his attention. “Why’d you– how are you–” words come out as blubbering and disjointed. Face heating up with each tumble your tongue takes. You don’t understand how unfazed he is right now, having just kissed you twice. Is it not a big deal to him? Is he toying with you? The initial startling fades as your mind ponders the sad possibility. Osamu is quick to notice your silence, setting his pudding down beside yours.

“Oh, are ya mad?” He said with sincere concern, bumping his arms to you as a means to comfort. What exactly do you say to him? Should you get mad? You sigh,

“I’m– It’s because– Are you just messing with me, Osamu?”

“A lil bit.” he admits, though not seeing it as big of a crime as you do.

“It's just ‘cause ya said I can, so I…” He strays, placing his rough hand at the swell of your cheek, bringing you to face him. You can see that he’s searching for his words too. Thumb brushing you with a new warmth he has never done before. “And I’ve really wanted to do that for a while now.”

Not able to wrap your head around his confession, doubt lumped up in your voice, you ask “you have?”

Osamu removes his hand away from your cheek. Straightening himself up to face you. He takes your hand, cupping it between both of his own, as if giving you a secret you can’t see just yet. Gentleness in his eyes with a tender smile. He shares his truth. "I like ya for a long while now.”

It's a sweet and honest truth. It all bubbles up into you breathily laughing, leaning your head on his shoulder as he keeps you balanced. The scent of rice still clings to his black uniform. He hums along with you.

You say, "couldn't you have said that first?"

"uh," he laughs softly. "Sorry. Guess I got too excited." The tension in the kitchen dissipates with each laugh. Osamu takes your pudding from the table, scooping in it with his spoon. You are still at the height of his confession to point out that it's your pudding he is about to eat from. He raised the spoon to your mouth.

"Eat up. to calm ya nerves a bit."

You can only oblige. The sweetness is soothing, cleansing away any remaining nervousness you had. Osamu is careful to slide it off your lips before digging it in your pudding again.

“Atta girl,” he purrs, brushing your hair behind your ear as you slowly chew. It's new, this kind of affection coming from him, but you welcome it nonetheless.

You have something to say before he leans in again. "WAI-" is all you could muster as his lips are on yours for the third time, a little longer, a lot firmer. Fingers on your chin. He eases you into a slow kiss. Three kisses and an indirect one. He really is taking his shots.

When you pull away, you lightly burst out “seriously??”

Osamu chuckles, pulling away to take both puddings on each hand and handing yours to you. “Sorry, you taste good too,” he said. This time placing a peck on your cheek.

"C'mon, finish it up before it melts."

The two of you eat together in comfortable silence. A new feeling lingers in the air. A sense of rose tranquility. You could get used to this.

“So,” you start, taking another bite. “What do we do now?” Osamu inches closer to your side, enjoying this new kind of company from you.

“Am I yours?”

You pretend to ponder, just to draw out your answer.

“I guess so.”

“Is that a yes?”

You take your chance to place a kiss on his cheek. This time, He’s the one caught off guard, smiling at you as he wipes the small bit of stickiness off.

“Yeah,” you said.

Wrapping an arm around your waist, Osamu places a hand on your hip to pull you closer to him.

“Stay over for tonight, why don’t ya?”

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A/N: i'll edit this in a little bit

#haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu x y/n #hq x y/n #osamu miya x reader #osamu miya x y/n #osamu x reader #osamu x y/n #osamu miya #osamu fluff #just cute stuff

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