#so long awaited

[starry-bi-sky]

on a completely separate note; shizun luo binghe with a disciple shen yuan who fell into the abyss??? *thinks about LBH canonically stealing SQQ's corpse for 5 years* he'd hallucinate i think. like, like visual and audial hallucinations.

Keeps thinking he's seeing SQQ in the corner of his eyes, or wandering between the trees, amongst a group of disciples. Thinks he hears him calling for him, but its just the wind or another disciple.

Gets Xiu Ya reforged but patently fucking refuses to make a sword mound. Because his disciple Is Not Dead :))) There was No Body. He's Not Dead. And If You keep Insisting That He Is, He's Gonna Skewer You :). He's holding onto Xiu Ya so he can return his most favored disciple's sword when he returns. It's on his hip right next to Zheng Yang where it's supposed to be.

Also this motherfucker?? does not sleep btw. He has the image of SQQ, wide eyed and hysterical and standing at the mouth of the abyss burned into his fucking eyelids. Can't use the dreamscape to escape it either because he keeps trying to save him and either he does and it's an incredibly cruel trick to wake up to, or he doesn't and he gets his heart broken in several different pieces again.

There is no convincing this man that Shen Qingqiu is dead. Absolutely nothing at all. He is buried so deep in denial that moles would be jealous of how deep he is. He keeps making tea for two in the bamboo house only to remember that it's just him. SQQ's fans are hiding everywhere, little reminders of his presence. He goes to wake up SQQ on the mornings he sleeps in-- only to find the room empty.

[0xochitlsketches0]

Remember folks, it’s not about what you can do for your cult leader, it’s about what your cult leader can do for you (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Heh...Literally nothing personal, kid.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[amaranthdahlia]

ktdk and kdch ,, thee elder gays and baby gays

[skyrim-forever]

Oblivion Affirmations part 1

[fell-e]

Happy Birthday to my Beautiful wife💕💕

lukewarm greetings to everyone else

sorry, straightforward individual, but ive got eyes for jamil and jamil only

bonus:

[ithinkdogshouldvote]

Sleep deprivation is one hell of a drug

[mizgnomer]

Funny Faces / Silly Faces - Photos Part 2

Also see my [ #silly faces ] tag for more silliness, if you’d like

[naetles]

[tennispilled]

sincaraz - tortured poets department

[zara-renata]

Roleplay, Undercurrents, and Rising Curtain: Sylus's POV

It really bothers me in the game that the clearly traumatic experiences MC undergoes in the canon storyline don't seem to have any consequences for MC's character development. Yes, yes, this is a self-insert gacha mobile game, blah blah. MC has PTSD from chapter 4 (you know the one), and no one can convince me otherwise, so I re-wrote the auction bits from Sylus's POV to fix this grievous oversight, because I am also firmly convinced he is a champ at handling MC's issues.

Third person POV (Sylus), second person POV (gender-neutral reader/MC) CWs: violence, murder, foul language, cursing, mentions of trauma/PTSD/panic attacks, Sylus is giddy being able to be near MC again even though MC is still mean to him

SFW if you think murder and Sylus's singing is SFW

ao3 link here

He is watching you from the shadowed doorway as you examine yourself in the mirror. He can almost see your mind tick, tick, ticking away, evaluating the quality of your costume for tonight, the slight frown on your face betraying your uncertainty that you, and he, will be able to pull tonight off and emerge on the other side in one piece.

He is used to this type of soirée, a viper’s den wrapped in velvet and silk, the veneer of civility paper-thin, where one wrong look or clumsy response can cost you your reputation, or much, much more. And as a betting man, he’d gamble that you, on the other hand, are not used to this type of gathering at all. You who are straightforward, with your fangs bared and guns blazing, the honesty palpable in your bright eyes and laughter, in your scowl and impatience and eagerness.

He steps into the light, revealing his presence to you through the mirror, and watches as you turn to him, draped in scarlet, and a pulse of satisfaction has his lips lifting. You look delicious, with your head tilted haughtily, the red jewels flashing from your neck and wrists. Your outfits match, and you’re dripping in stones and fabric the color of his eyes. He hasn’t felt this sense of satiation in a long, long time. He pins the brooch above your heart and looks into your eyes, and it doesn’t matter that even though you know the truth now, you are still looking at him with the cold unfamiliarity of someone constantly assessing the possible threat in every gesture he makes. It doesn’t matter that even though he’s helping you, you’re still treating him like the enemy, when it is everyone outside these walls who threaten you, and he is currently the only one defending the gates and preparing to shatter the siege.

None of that matters. Because you’re right here, finally. You’re allowing him to touch you, as he smooths the fabric around where he has just pinned the brooch, your heartbeat strong and steady under his palm—you’re reaching out to him, sliding your hand in his; he can’t feel your skin through your gloves but he can feel your heat at his side, in his palm. He will ensure that, with time, the look in your eyes changes when you feel him appear behind you, when your palms touch.

You say something biting to him, full of doubt, the wariness and spite palpable, and he revels in how safe you must feel with him already to extend your claws around him like this, to be reckless and treat him like an insufferable puppy that you’re forced to indulge instead of the half-feral wolf that he is to so many others. The progress from hate and fear from just a few days ago, to this snarky impatience is intoxicating, better than any gin fizz or successful wager—it’s faster than he had calculated as the blood poured from his heart and you spitefully jammed your palms into his chest in an attempt to stem the flow.

In short, Sylus is in a great mood tonight and he’s looking forward to exterminating the rest of the vermin that have been gnawing away at the foundations of his house in his long absence. And he’s going to make damn well sure that he gets to dance with you before the fireworks truly begin.

Things are going according to plan—he snickers, recalling that this plan is the one you accused him of not having. He will show you, in time, that he always has plans, with backup plans, and backups to the backup plans. He can forgive you for not knowing that about him yet. But you’re the only person he’s in a forgiving mood toward tonight. He has deposited you safely at the bidding room of the auction, the subtle glow of the protocores illuminating the lovely line of your haughtily upturned nose as you sauntered away from him clutching his black card, the other guests whispering in a painfully unsubtle manner behind their hands, speculating about who you are and the nature of your relationship to him. Mine, he had declared, as he handed over his proverbial wallet and told you to have fun.

As he strides down the dimly lit hall of the hotel in which the auction is being held, the deep carpet shushing his purposeful steps, he spots one of Sherman’s minions standing at attention at a closed door and can’t prevent the excitement rushing through him. He is so close to the craven idiot who dared act in his name, who sowed discord in his ranks, who hurt you so terribly and deprived you of your ‘family’, who, regardless of Sylus’s opinion of them, you clearly loved deeply. He is eager to kill two birds with one stone (apologies to Mephisto): wipe Sherman’s existential stain off this plane of existence, clean his house, avenge your loss, and be back to dance with you in a matter of minutes. The lackey finally notices him, begins lifting his wrist to speak into his earpiece, but unfortunately for him, he is little too late, as Sylus’ evol jerks him into the air by his neck—he is about to tighten it to snap the fuck’s spine in two when he hears your gorgeous voice through his own earpiece.

He pauses, suddenly anxious that something has gone wrong for you that and you’re in danger and that he’s not there, when he hears you say, “Do you mind if I use your card to buy one of these protocores?”

He shakes his head a little. Did he just hear you correctly? He might have to re-evaluate his estimation of your intelligence. He will continue to adore you even if you’re a little slow; your other qualities more than make up for any deficiencies in the intelligence department. Because why the fuck else would he hand you the equivalent of unfettered access to his bank account and tell you to have fun? Of course you can buy whatever the hell you want with it. But he knows you’re clever; the way you meet and counter his sarcasm, taunts and challenges without hesitation makes that clear. And you wouldn’t have survived for this long, risen to one of the elite teams in the Association’s ranks, if you were an imbecile. But he is busy, your sudden question made him anxious for you, and he's frothing at the mouth to get back to you to claim his dance.

“Do not bother me with such trivial matters!” he hisses into his own earpiece, and watches as the eyes of the idiot, who he still has by the throat, bulge further in response to his assailant angry-whispering into the empty hallway.

He’s about to finish this when he hears your voice again, offering an offensively low sum for the highest grade protocore this pretentious establishment has to offer.

“5 million!” he counters in a whisper-shout. He is not going to let these clowns think that your man is broke. He waits to hear your response, finally noticing that the guard he still has suspended in the air has passed out. When he hears you double the amount he had ordered you to offer, and then proceed to demand the rest of the items up for bid, Sylus laughs so hard that he momentarily loses control of his evol and the unconscious goon falls with an unceremonious, muffled thump onto the richly carpeted floor. Sylus contemplates his crumpled form for a moment, wiping the tears from his eyes. Suddenly he doesn’t have it in him to kill a guy who is probably only here for a paycheck, even if he does have atrocious taste in employers.

“You can thank my charming guest for your life tonight, if you manage to get through it alive,” he murmurs to the lump on the floor, before punching the door open with his evol-wrapped fist and striding in to find Sherman turning with a look of horror on his face as he recognizes who, precisely, was just laughing like a madman on the other side of the now ruined door.

After, once Sylus has successfully avenged himself and more importantly, you, he hums a little tune as he picks up Sherman’s detonator and saunters back to the ballroom. Maybe, if things keep going as well as they’re going now, and you like him a little better, he’ll sing it to you as a treat. Because of you, he's having so much fun.

*

And now, finally, he is going to claim his own treat before the action really begins. The utter boredom he was forced to endure while interrogating Sherman and uncovering his trite motivations is replaced by an eagerness bordering on mania to get back to his interesting little Hunter. He watches in amusement as a man sidles up to you and shows interest in your brooch, after having thoroughly shown interest in the rest of you before mustering the courage to actually speak to you.

He watches with slightly less amusement as your curiosity is piqued and you ask with your customary eagerness to learn new things, “Hightower? What’s that?” The man’s eyes light up at this apparent interest of yours, seeing an in with you and assertively requesting that you join him for the banquet dance.

Aaaand that’s enough. Sylus steps into the light and slides his hand around your waist, pulling you decisively into his side and feeling that dangerously seductive calm wash over him, as it always does, when he’s allowed to touch you. He knows it makes him weak. He does not care. His other strengths more than compensate for the crack in his armor you represent. Unlike Achilles, he knows exactly how to protect his vulnerability. His hand flexes involuntarily, fingers pressing a little too hard into your hip, until he is able to will it relaxed again.

“A Hightower is a type of gun. Just one can level this entire building,” he answers your question, fingering the detonator in his other pocket. He doesn’t need a Hightower to finish what he started tonight, and the thought translates into an the intense smugness as you frown at him for interrupting your conversation with your luckless suitor. “The brooch is a gift from me, I’m afraid,” he says smoothly, more than ready to send this guy scurrying along his way and draw your entire focus back to him, where he likes it best.

“You weren’t trying to sell it now, were you, kitten?” he goads you, just to see how you’ll respond to this blatant mischaracterization of the situation.

You don’t disappoint him: with your tight jaw belying your coy tone of voice, you run your hands  up his chest, underneath the coat draped over his shoulders, and pretend to be a spoiled, thrill seeking brat testing a sugar daddy’s patience. Finally, the insignificant obstacle standing between him and the dance he has been looking forward to all evening gets the hint and slinks back into the crowded shadows.

And finally, finally, the music begins, bodies are moving around the two of you, and you’re in his arms as he gracefully leads you through the steps of the dance. He soaks in the feeling of his arm around your waist, your hand in his, your chests brushing against each other as you sway together across the dance floor. He notices that your attention is split between expressing doubt about whether he’s telling the truth regarding knowing the aether core’s location and constantly assessing potential threats—but Sylus does not want your eyes drifting elsewhere. He smoothly draws your eyes back to his, where they belong, and ensures that the only thing you can see is him by tightening his arm around your waist, drawing you in closer, and refusing to give you a direct answer to all of your questions. He sees your little scowl, the frustration in the line of your mouth, suppresses a wince when you deliberately stomp on his foot—but he doesn’t mind. Just as he doesn’t mind that you might not believe that he’s fulfilled his part of the deal, that he knows exactly where the aether core is, and that he has his own house’s situation finally under control with Sherman’s demise. In time, you’ll learn that you can trust him. And he has all the time in the world, now that you’re finally here and not trying to kill him.

He's in such a good mood he’s floating like a feather, until you mention the protocore bombs and something changes in the expression on your face. If he hadn’t been staring at your lovely face for weeks now, from afar through Mephisto and hacked security cameras, and while you were sleeping under his roof (if you have an objection to him exploiting your proximity by watching you as you sleep when you’re right there, under his roof, then sue him), and if he wasn’t currently in the process of soaking in every microexpression flitting across your upturned face from this close as you dance together, he might have missed it. But he doesn’t miss it. And he certainly doesn’t miss the involuntary shudder that runs through your body pressed to his. He realizes in a flash of intuition that the idea of the bombs bothers you—

He watches your throat as you swallow, and the very light sheen of sweat gathering at your temples, he watches your eyes begin to dart around again, your hand flexing with what is likely the need to grab your gun from underneath the fabric of your outfit, and he realizes that you’re starting to panic. Or have a panic attack. At the thought of bombs—

Like the bomb that destroyed your family and came so close to killing you too

He has watched you for weeks, seen the way you’ve worked almost non-stop, taking on assignment after assignment with hardly any rest in between except for when you were on the brink of collapse. When you weren’t working, you were training, kilometer after kilometer on the treadmill, heavier and heavier weight sets. And when you weren’t training, you were trying to orchestrate a way to infiltrate his territory, to hunt him and the aether core down. You weren’t sleeping, and you weren’t attending counseling. You haven’t processed what happened to you at all, and no one around you has forced you to confront what you have been avoiding this whole time. The dark circles under your precious eyes, the short fuse and oh so transparent mask of a smile plastered across your lovely, exhausted face—how they just let you continue as you have been infuriates him, and only the thought that he’s here now, in your life, whether you like it or not, is the only thing that stops him from adding new names to his extermination list. He will succeed where they have failed to care for you, even if you hate him for it.

However, he takes a moment to reproach himself, as just a few hours ago he was gloating to himself that soon you’d learn that his contingency plans have contingencies, that you could trust him to think of all the variables and know how to dismantle any obstacles. Yet he has been missing something so obvious while making his calculations of how tonight would go. Of course you’d have remaining trauma from what you have survived and what has been taken from you.

He recalculates—it’s too late to change the state of play now, but instead of the fireworks he has been looking forward to unleashing into chaos, this is now going to have to be a controlled demolition.

He lifts his hand and runs his fingertips along the curve of your jaw to return your focus to him. Once your too wide eyes are locked on his, he tightens his hold around your waist again.

“Look at me. Look only at me.” He waits, and something inside of him crows in triumph as, your hands tightening on him, you follow his directions and stare into his eyes, letting him continue speaking without struggle.

“We are going to detonate the bombs now that were originally intended later for me, kitten. It’s going to be loud, and most of this place will be rubble when we’re done.”

Before you can ask the how and why, he continues. “I have the detonator. I know you’re frightened. I’m sorry this is the method that I have tonight. But keep your eyes on me, and breathe. We’ll get through this together, do you understand?”

He can sense the shift in the energy of the room, the metaflux fluctuations and the increasing violent mood of the crowd, but he will make time for this and deal with any fallout from this slight delay. He will ensure that you get through this without spiraling into a panic attack and possibly getting hurt.

“Do you understand?” he asks again. And that same satisfaction, the sense of calm, that only you seem to be able to give him floods through him as you take a shuddering breath and nod, ever so slightly, eyes never leaving his.

He lets his fingers drift down your face, takes your hand in his and slips both of them into his pocket, pulling you even closer, your cheek coming to rest against his chest. He guides your hand around the detonator in his pocket, squeezing your hand gently in reassurance. “We’ll do this together. You’re in control,” he murmurs, eyes scanning the crowd now, having utter faith that you will have the courage to press the button despite the dread that must be filling you right now.

And you, with your cheek pressed against his warm chest, his steady heartbeat drowning out all the other sounds, including the ringing in your ears, your own thundering heartbeat, flashes of memory, a door closing, Caleb’s last words to you—you close your eyes and press, and the world explodes around the two of you. But you’re breathing, and Sylus is still holding you tight, and you’re alive, and you’ll deal with the terror threatening to drown you after you’ve gotten what you came for.

After you take one deep, slow breath, you reach for your gun, shove Sylus to the side and shoot the wanderer that was about to stab him in the back.

[clairedaring]

Happy 1st Anniversary, I Feel You Linger In The Air! (August 18th, 2023 - November 3rd, 2023)

“I am heading towards the end of my life. Throughout the course of my life, I have learnt that the current of time always runs forward without any retreat. With the matter of time, I might already be your past, but, for me, you are my future. I'm still looking forward to seeing you at the same place, and I hope that someday we will get back and spend our lives together.”

[starrvsn]

` ִ ꔫ ۫ ⊹ D.HUME ࣪ ˖ TWO HALVES OF ONE HEART.

﹙ MOVIE/FANDOM ⠆THE BOYS IN THE BOAT ﹚

PART 02 OF HEART AND MIND! READ PART 01 HERE.

PAIRING ⠆don hume x fem!reader.

WORD COUNT ⠆3,756 (well spent!)

ON ROTATION ⠆cheek to cheek by frank sinatra, head over heels by tears for fears, my heart it beats for you by grent perez, how deep is your love by bee gees.

CATEGORIES ⠆very fluffy!!! a long awaited lovers reunion!!!! the boys on crew being the biggest supporters as always, joyce being lovely, very comforting. loved how it came out... though i feel like it kinda dragged but i digress.

𝟒𝟏𝟏. a much needed reunion between two lovers.

you don’t think you’ve ever seen lake washington look so alive, there were swarms of crowds surrounding the lake. the day was sunny and bright with a slight wind whistling through the air.

full of supporters and spectators from both cal and washington alone. your heart raced with a mix of excitement and nervousness as you followed followed your parents through the crowd but ultimately separating from them as you made your way to the viewing deck. the thought of seeing don again— being in his presence again made you so excited yet so nervous. you were elated he made the JV rowing team, knowing how effortlessly he knew how to do things; basically being good at anything. you had a fairly good spot over looking the water; not realizing it’s a student only viewing deck (did those even exist..). you looked for a spot not to close to the front in case don ends up seeing you, you didn’t want to throw him off from their first race of the season. as you were getting settled in your spot you accidentally bump into someone.

“oh! i am so sorry!” you apologize, pushing your hair away from crowding your face as you watch the girl in front of you stumble a bit.

“no! no it’s totally okay.” a blonde with short hair instantly assures, noticing as her eyes scanning over you.“i don’t think i’ve ever seen you around school before.” she adds, you found it bit odd she would say such a thing.

“ i don’t actually go here.” you affirmed, clearing your throat a bit. still confused on her sudden interrogation, she nods. taking in the newfound information before continuing.

“where do you attend?” you hesitate, suddenly noticing how everyone on the deck had UW flags and you didn’t have that, instead a berkeley flag that someone had given you after recognizing you from school. if she had seen the flag tucked behind you it would’ve given you away immediately.

“cal.” a slight cough out of the school name; there was no way in lying to her, suddenly feeling small amongst the groups of UW students. the short haired girl piques at your response “cal as in cal state berkeley— the rowing team the boys are going against?” you nod for her in clarification “how come you’re rooting for the opposite team?” fully facing you now. before you can tell her your reason she interrupts saying how rude it was for her to bombard you without asking your name, you weren’t offend at all and introduced yourself instantly as she does the same immediately after.

“my boyfriend is on the team actually.” you felt awkward telling her but also relieved, you don’t remember the last time you outright told anyone you had a boyfriend. ”oh really! who?” it crosses in joyce’s mind that it could be joe but she knows joe would never keep something like this from her and there was a massively rare chance it would be him so her mind briefs through the rest of the roaster. though she only knew their faces and not their names.

“don, don hume. you know him?” joyce ponders for a bit, the name sounding very familiar.

“i think joe mentioned him before…” you assume ‘joe’ is on the rowing team with don, further assuming she was here to root for joe but would’t say that of course… insisting she’s here rooting for everyone, not just joe.

“its okay, he’s not much of a talker anyways.” laughing it off, don wasn’t someone to put himself in the lime light, finding comfort alone or with you. a part of you hoping he’s getting along well with his teammates as he isnt the easiest to get along with because of how reserved he could be… you just want him to be happy.

“does he know you’re here?” you shake your head in response but mention to her that you sent him a letter recently entailing that you were coming over to visit but it was safe to assume he hadn;t gotten it since he hadn’t called (knowing he only calls when he needs to respond immediately). an idea suddenly sparks in your new friends mind. she tells you there is supposed to be a party if the huskies win and she insists you surprise him then, it was such a spur of the moment proposition you accepted. she squeals excitedly, grasping your arm. she was so happy to meet someone new who wasn’t from washington, excited to make your acquaintance as she stays close to you, cheering on the boys.

the race was nothing short of a spectacle, no one was sure that the huskies would win but they had defied odds and won with an astounding outcome. you see dons face as their boat pushes to the finish line, time seems to slow when your eyes land on him. his hair is shorter and face slimmer from the last time you saw him, your heart swells seeing him so happy from winning, splashing the water and celebrating with the rest of the team. you don’t think you’ve seen anything more attractive, his muscles taught and defined in that fitting uniform he wore. a faint blush creeps up you neck as you watch his muscles flex under the sunlight, you couldn’t wait to be with him again, talk to him, be in his arms again. you eyes don’t leave him until joyce drags you away from the your spot, immediately talking your ear off about how well they did on the way to her dorm. don lingering in your mind the whole way.

the hall was loud and in high spirits after the win of the JV rowing team, don watches as george walks off hand and hand with a pretty brunette. sitting alone as the other guys sit in the paired tables in front of him, having their own conversations. don didn’t mind to be alone or away from the group; it would probably be expected of him to go off and talk to others but he really isn’t much of a talker and preferred to observe the scenes in front of him. he didn’t need to be apart of the fun to have fun- he was content knowing the guys were having a good time. it did get lonely at times though the guys kept him company and included him in conversation for a part but his mind kept lingering at the thought of you; being here with him— having fun of your own if you were here. he’s been thinking about you more lately, missing you more than he usually did. it was rough the first few months but he eventually got used to the fact that you weren’t around anymore and he had to carry on with his own life. its not to say he didn’t think of you at all; you were the muse of his dreams and he’d think about how you were sometimes and at times where he’s out, he’d something that reminds him of you. most of all, the jewelry you gifted him. he’d fidget with his ring and he’d think of you. ever since the night he told roger and bobby about you it feels like he’s back a year ago when you freshly left for california feeling incomplete without you, unbeknownst to when you’d retuen, wondering if you got his letter or if you wrote back to him.

your heart pounds in your chest as you walk with joyce towards the hall, her arm laced with yours. your heart races, full of emotion. memories of when you last saw don flooding your mind, you couldn’t wait to see him. you were nervous he wasn’t going to recognize you, it had been a year since you saw him and you weren’t sure if you look the same you did when you left, what if he didn’t feel the same way anymore after seeing you? what if he regrets waiting for you after a year of being apart? what if— as if she could sense your overwhelming nerves, joyce immediately assures you— insisting that don is gonna be elated to see you, especially after a big win. what worried you was the fact that you had sent him a letter, unveiling your news that you were coming up to washington. you were unsure if he’s received it yet and it drags your heart at the thought of him reading the letter and not caring; content with having a life of his own away from you. he would he awaiting your arrival wouldn’t he? looking for you. but there was no news up the grapevine about him from the passing hours as you got ready in joyce’s dorm but if you didn’t find out for yourself you’d never know. you can hear the music grow louder as you get closer, excitement bubbles as joyce squeals skipping towards the hall with you in tow, already feeling the warmth from the hall.

at the doorway is a tall blonde with his eyes fixed on your short haired friend, you look at her and see a faint flush on her cheeks. unlocking your arms she walks a few steps ahead greeting the man with a hug. standing a bit awkwardly before them as they speak, a mere moment later she turns around gesturing you over. from there you meet joe, the man she mentioned earlier during your first interaction. she introduces you fondly as a new friend, locking arms as she leans against you. she continues to tell joe how you’re visiting from california and she’s love to introduce you to the boys. joe has a hesitant look on his face, as much as he wasn’t opposed to the idea, he knew the boys would eat up a pretty face like yours without the slightest bit of hesitation. he wasn’t convinced from her persuasion but the look she gives him? how could he say no to her? heaving a small sigh, the blonde nods. further exchanging pleasantries as he tries to get to know you a bit better before gesturing for the two of you to walk inside, him following behind. you can't help but feel a mix of anticipation and nervousness as you walk into the bustling room, eyes instinctively scanning for don. your heart skips a beat when you finally spot him, sitting alone at a table. he looks even more handsome than you remember, you’ve never seen him in a suit before and he looks better than you could ever imagine. breath catching in your throat as you realize this is actually happening, the man you've missed so dearly, the one you've been yearning for since you moved to california. you’re so close to being in his arms again, in his presence again. before you can take in more of the lively atmosphere, joyce is dragging you to the refreshment table. you weren’t sure what she had in mind, she hadn’t told you anything beforehand and you were dying to know. she guiltily admits to you how unsure she is about her plan, though there wasn’t much to it in the first place. you immediately reassure her that whatever happens, you appreciate her effort, without her your surprise reunion with your lover could have gone completely differently.

don doesn’t know why or how but he feels as if you’re here, somewhere (his spidey senses are tingling) especially when joe had them gathered so closely, being sandwiched between roger and bobby as they all ask whats going on. joe casually relays that joyce had someone she wanted to introduce to them, making the advanced effort to note that the person is a girl. the group suddenly becomes boisterous and are quick to fix their suits and appearances. don has half the mind to entertain the thought the the person is you, though he thinks you would come straight to him if that were the case, so he makes himself comfortable sat down with his hands in his pockets awaiting their new guest- ready to watch what’s to come.

your heart flutters with nerves, as joyce tries are best to calm you down. there was only so much she could stall and soon joe approaches the two of you stating how impatient and restless the guys were, your mind is in a frenzy now trying to imagine how seeing him again will be, what you’ll say, how he’ll react. it overwhelmed you so, wringing hands and deep breaths as you gather yourself. it was now or never.

you pass through the throng of people, the atmosphere is charged with an electric energy, a complete contrast of the feelings that consumed you as joyce holds your hand comfortingly through the crows. joe walks ahead, gathering the boys as you approach them. trying your best to hide behind the small frame of joyce. for a moment don thinks he’s right, eyeing the girl standing behind joe’s girlfriend, as the boys stand ready to impressed. he also thinks he’s become delusional drowning in the thought of you— he can’t see the person well but with her frame peaking from joyce it makes him think its you, he tries to deny the thought in his head— trying to not physical head palm himself at such a stretch.

clearing her throat, joyce speaks “i made a friend from california and i just wanted to introduce her to the team that beat hers.” a small wave in her voice, seeingas don snaps his attention to her as she silently hopes she does this right. her words cause an immediate stir in the boys, ready to impress with their chests puffed. roger and bobby immediately share a look before looking down at their friend who’s now sat upright and at attention.

it can’t be…

you feel your hands tremor and a slight ring in your ears as your friend speaks but you can’t help the surge of adrenaline that runs through you knowing at any moment you will be face to face with your lover.

you feel a tug on your hand and soon enough you’re faced in front of your boyfriend among a sea of unfamiliar faces.

“this is y/n.”

before any of the boys can approach you, the sound of a chair screeching against the wood floor causes a pause through the group. turning their attention they see don stood up, eyes wide. all at once it feels as if time begins to slow, you’re stood before him looking beautiful as ever, like an angel sent from heaven. he feels like he’s dreaming— as if at any given moment he’ll be woken up from a painfully realistic dream. it isn’t until he feels a pat on his back, he breaks his gaze. looking over at roger who whispers a ‘lucky man’ with a giddy smile on his face. bobby and roger pass you last, having a small conversation with you telling you how you have a good eye for jewelry and realization on that you’re actually real, the locket on your neck further proving that. the group moves else where but close enough to see the lovers reunite.

his gaze is back on you, unbelieving the sight before him, you’re actually here— standing in front of you him with a wide smile on your face. you slowly walk towards him, meeting him until your inches apart. your hands comfortingly grasping his hands, thumb grazing his ring. you eyes take in his features that matured from the time you were away, he does the same drinking in the sight of you— guess his feeling wasn’t wrong. you were afraid he wouldn’t recognize you or look at you the same the same way he did before but the loving gaze is still strong through his iris’

"you're quiet. do i look bad?" trying to break the ice, words unsaid whilst you took in the sights of each other. you missed him more than you can recount, now that he’s in your hands again you cannot imagine being apart now.

"no. no, god, no.” shaking his head, gathering himself ”you left me speechless. in a good way, of course." (prompt from @novelbear) he would have never thought you could leave him speechless in a way you did now, looking breathtaking under the warm lighting of the hall, a soft laugh leaving you before giving his hands a gentle squeeze. your nerves dissipates into comfort as you look at him, a sudden wave of emotions coming over you. tears wake at your waterline and chin trembling as you look at your lover, your hand moving to his cheek caressing it gently— all your worries and doubts disappearing, grateful to whatever being upon the universe that brought you together again. don immediately noticing your change of emotion and he pulls you into a tight but comforting hug. the rest of the world fades away as you share that familiar embrace, the connection you once thought lost rekindling in an instant. your arms tightly around his neck, as his rest on your waist and a hand soothing at your back. he tries his best to hold back tears of his own as you softly sob into his blazer jumbled out “i missed yous” between hiccups and sniffles, he softly hushes you, comforting you the best way he can as he tries to keep it together but all at the same time reciprocating the same words to you like a soft lullaby letting your crying subside. you part from the crook of his neck, eyes puffy and tear stricken cheeks. staring down sheepishly at your sudden outburst. don takes it with open arms, grasping your face as he wipes the tears away and tucks fallen hairs from your face. so glad to have you back in his arms again.

“so, were you surprised?” you ask, straightening yourself up acting as if nothing happened— brushing your hair to your back as your hands go to fix his blazer, hand lovingly gracing his tie, evening the two pieces together. he looks at you with a crooked smile—

“surprised? honey you blew me away.” mimicking the way someone would be blown away from strong wind. his effort of making you laugh fruitful, as you giggle with hand coming to cover your mouth.

“but seriously, i’ve missed you so much. there wasn’t a day where i didn’t think of you, you’re the reason i tried out for the team..” his words coming out soft and sincere, standing close to you again. your heart swelled at his words, looking up at him with loving eyes. all while finding the words to describe how much you missed him.

“i couldn’t stop thinking about you when i was in cal, adjusting to the school was difficult; i felt like it would’ve been so much easier if you were there with me… i struggled so much but eventually i fell into a routine that felt empty because you weren’t in it. that’s why i came up to visit you; i didn’t mean for it to be a surprise— i wrote to you about it but judging by your reaction you haven’t received it yet.” don processes your words, thinking how the week has been so busy that he hadn’t had the time to go to the mail room to check for any response from you. you can see in his eyes a shade of guilt swirling through them, comfortingly you run a hand over his chest. grounding him. “but regardless, surprise or not. i’m happy to be with you again and to see you win.” you gleam, now filled with pride, squeezing his bicep gently. don flushes at the thought of you watching him win, in such tight and little clothing as well. you tease him about how much fitter he’s gotten and how he must give you a personal lesson on rowing soon. cooing at his flushed cheeks with proud words of praise as he thinks of taking you on a boat ride before you leave, when you leave.

“how long are you staying?” his face falling a bit but you lighten up.

“well… if you read my letter you’d know i’m transferring here as of next semester.” you say proudly, biting at your lip as you await his reaction. you watch as he tilts his head, a breathless chuckle of disbelief leaving him. then suddenly he wraps his arms around you, twirling you in his grasp making you squeal in surprise. he puts you down before pressing his lips to yours before you can catch your breath, chaste and content but relayed feelings and emotions not expressed through words said.

“you’re not joking right?” praying this wasn’t just some sick joke you were playing to get a rouse out of him, you wouldn’t do that to him right? the moment you shake your head no as a massive smile graces your face, he swears he’s never been happier. nothing could damper his mood, not even the words you said next.

“i’m staying for 2 more weeks starting today before i leave back to cal. but we’ll only be apart for a few more months before the semester starts again.”

he was elated at the news, once again pulling you into a content embrace telling you a few months was nothing. it was only a few months, if he could get through a year he could get pass a few months.

well, he better make the most of the two weeks then.

the rest of the night plays in a high note as you and don join the rest of the group, them getting to know the lover don had been hiding from them. bobby and roger seemingly more interested in the stories you told of don before college, even the most embarrassing ones and eventually convincing him to play a song other than the washington fight song when the party had died down, instead playing the lighthearted tune of cheek to cheek ( the original version was released during the 1930s but feel free to reference the sinatra version :] ) with soft hums of singing along as he plays. he watches as his friends dance on the floor beneath him, ever so often looking at you— watching him from the height of the piano, eyes full of love with your chin resting in your hand. content as ever.

the other half of his heart came back to him and he couldn’t be happier.

ownership of starrvsn. please do not repost, modify or translate.

[mimimar]

my completed illustration series based on the 5 books of TGCF♡

you can now get them as dust jackets for the english translation of the TGCF books here! 

[toxintouch]

hii!! I just read cold spots and it was AMAZING!!! Im not sure if you wanted to continue the fic, but if you don’t mind could you continue with Veres part? I don’t know what you would write about but I just feel like that fic has so much potential to be a little 3 part series or something 🙏

<- Cold Spots TYSM ANON!! I put the Vere End at the beginning for ease of reading. For the sake of folks who would like to read this as a stand-alone... I think u can? With the knowledge that the premise of Cold Spots is that Mhin and MC/Sparrow went ghost hunting. Vere is said to have been responsible for a handful of local ghost stories, so…of course he makes some mischief.🦊 Also MC needs some Winter wear, stat.  A very light Possessive Vere warning in this btw, though perhaps in a roundabout way.  Plausible deniability is so important to him.

You putter around in your room at the Wet Wick as you go about your nightly routine. The occasional cheer or thud from below only accentuates your nervous energy, punctuating your reluctance to settle down and get into bed. You smooth the covers with your bandaged hands and fluff the pillow before extinguishing the lamplight. You tug the bedding up above your shoulders, fighting to get comfortable. As your eyelids finally start to droop, the flicker of a shadow catches your attention.   It dances and sways and bends and grows until suddenly it is right in front of you.  On top of you. Silken, blood red drips down onto your face, a knife gleam smile too close for comfort.  You breathe in a gasp, wondering if you should scream. “Vere, what–” “Shhh,” he coos, pressing a finger lightly to your lips.  His breath is hot against your skin. “I only came to keep you warm, pet.”

Heat Signature

“Poor thing.” Vere purrs.  “Your lips are so cold.”  He leans ever closer, his mouth hot over yours–hovering.  His other hand reaches for your face as well, nails trailing against your cheek in a teasing caress.

You feel even the thought of being cold leave your body, replaced instead by the unusual thrill he commands, that strange enthralling sway.

That heat you’ve come to associate with Vere; sweet tendrils of want that nestle in your bloodstream.

You squirm a little, though you can’t move much with him looming over you.

(You should probably do more to protest his intrusion into your room, you think to yourself, though, the majority of you is–curious, daresay even far too eager to–)

“Whatever trouble did you get up to that left you in such a state?”

At this you scoff, tilting your head back into the pillow and effectively knocking Vere’s finger from your lips.  

“As if you don’t know,” you accuse.

Vere looks entirely unperturbed by you shaking him off, his lithe fingers traveling freely along the newly displayed skin of your throat, making your pulse jump.

Vere chuckles at that, dark and silky.

“Being tight lipped about your adventures, hm?”  He angles your face just so, ensuring you meet his sharp eyes, his nose brushing up against yours.  “Not that it matters.  It so happens I do know what you’ve been up to.  Trespassing in places that don’t belong to you.”

“...It was an abandoned building.  I don’t think it really belonged to anyone.”

“And that’s where you’d be wrong,” Vere says, “everything in this city belongs to someone, darling.  You just don’t know what belongs to who yet.”  He peers down at you with laughter in his expression, though there's a distinct edge to it that you can't quite place.

“So, you're here because that building belongs to you...?”

“Hmm, amongst other things.  However shall I make you apologize to me for this most egregious offense?”  He asks airily, shifting until he’s beside you rather than perched over you, resting his cheek in his hand and letting his eyes slip closed. He's the absolute picture of unbothered leisure.  

(You’re not fooled–he’s simply waiting for you to let your guard down before he pounces.)

You open your mouth to deny any debts on your part (though, if your ghost hunting spot was indeed Vere’s hideout, you really do feel guilty) but Vere cuts you off before you can speak.

“Alas, I suppose it’s not mine anymore.  Within a week it will reek of wet dogs and cheap booze. It's a lost cause now that those drooling reprobates know it's inhabitable.  A pity.  By Eridia's standards it really was divine in its heyday.  Good wine, music, dancing.  There was this portrait artist who would paint the performances…”

His tone remains light as he reminisces.  But the look he pins you with is dangerous: his eyes gleaming bright, his canines bared in an irreverent grin.

“I had such hopes and dreams of reviving the place myself.  Some of the dances were very scandalous.  You never did share with me your stance on dancing, did you?”

You stumble out an approximate answer.  It’s…harmless information to give, isn’t it?

Though, judging by how pleased Vere looks, you wonder if you should have refused to say.  He looks positively wicked as he ponders your answer aloud.  “Oh, I’m sure you’ve got plenty of talents to share.  In another life, perhaps I'd have put you on stage.  Though, I admit.  I find myself partial to a private show.”

And–as expected–the moment you let your guard down, he's in your space again, crowding you.  Heat and proximity and the softest brush of his lips against yours, light enough to send a thrill down your spine, curiosity and a want so deep it surprises you.

“Well?”  He purrs.  “Care to audition?”

You can't hide behind the excuse of supernatural sway or charm or the thrall of hypnotic sunglo eyes.  It's not Vere's power that controls you. It's your own gnawing desire; starvation and longing that draws you to him despite all sense.

Kissing Vere is heady.  Dizzying.  

Kissing Vere is like being in conversation with Vere–a constant of giving and taking, being chased after and running to keep up.  It’s enticing and alluring and decadent and never quite enough, over too soon even as you feel yourself losing air, the rush of blood and sensation threatening to overwhelm you.

He gives a parting nip to your bottom lip as he pulls away.

Then another one, playful, to your jaw.

When he presses his face into the side of your neck, you expect him to bite again.

What you don’t expect is for him to nuzzle into you, inhaling deeply before heaving a great sigh, his tail flopping lazily to land across you with a thump.

He’s officious as he rearranges the covers, ensuring your arms are tucked carefully away from him before he’s willing to fully settle into the bedding, pulling the blankets up around the both of you like a den.  He hums something low in his chest as he tucks himself up alongside you, long tail curled around your waist. 

It’s rhythmic–

purring.

And it’s…soothing, actually.

The weight of him, the warmth.  The incessant lamplight of the Amaryllis District, shining ever present through your window, is dim–tolerable, even, courtesy of Vere's magnificent shadow manipulations and the blankets sheltering you. 

The constant noise seems to fade away as well, obscured by the sound of purring. “Falling asleep when you have me in your bed, pet?  You really do try your luck…”

[jakeyt]

Covet: Chapter 11 (Part 3 of 3)

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; recollected memories of traumatic situations; crying + feelings of sadness; self deprecation; use of heart monitors; sexual/manual stimulation f!receiving (both by jake and not by jake); Agoraphilia; vivid memories of sexual encounters; body changes as a result of pregnancy; talks of baby + pregnancy; jealous!jake; possessive!jake; jealous!reader; gender reveal; pregnancy hormones; reader is emotional and making rash decisions; reader and jake continue to be STUBBORN; cheating; lots of jake’s pov; heavy petting; kissing of the neck; drinking game; excessive drinking; very sad and drunk Sammy :(; Maya begins showing her true colors (as usual, PLEASE lmk if i missed anything that is triggering to you!)

Chapter 11 (Part 3) Word Count: 42.8k+ (yeahhhh… when I tell you I’ve been working on this one for months, I mean it. Chapter 12 is also now a continuation of this chapter bc of the paragraph limit… so, let’s just say the length is… intense. I’ve been writing lots of words for the past few months lol)

a/n: I'm back and I missed you all so incredibly much. Now, onto the downward (or upward?) spiral of our beloved Covet! The rollercoaster ride is far from over... ;)

as always, big thank you to @joshym for being the best sister there ever was and supporting me in my writings + pursuits + listening to every time i have anxiety over my writings <3 i love you to the ends of the earth, lis. you're my person. <3

an additional thank u to @allof-ourlove, @alwaysonthemend, @builtbybrokenbells, and @welightthefire. Thank you, my loves, for always having the right words to encourage me amidst life’s stresses. I love you guys so much.

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

-🌼🌼🌼-

"To the covetous man, life is a nightmare. And God lets him wrestle with it as best he may."

Henry Ward Beecher

-🌼🌼🌼-

Late July, 2022

You were not able to contain the huge grin that stretched across your lips. The giggle that escaped as you brushed your teeth was unstoppable. 

Thankfully, you were able to aim your pasty, minty spit in the sink, done with brushing, as the sound bubbled up. 

Jake had brushed his teeth just before you’d bombarded his morning routine time, purposely invading his space. 

What? You couldn’t get enough of him. It was undeniable and you’d decided to just live in the moment. 

And the moment had ended up becoming you, watching him pee as you followed his lead in brushing your own teeth. 

You’d woken up in his arms this morning. No sex the night prior, and none after you’d awoken. Just wanted to sleep with him the night before. Sleeping in his cozy bed was better than sleeping in yours. Being in his strong, sure arms was unlike anything else. He was so warm, safe— equal parts hard and soft. . . 

God. You truly couldn’t get enough. 

Which was why you didn’t leave the bathroom when he inched his pajama pants down just a bit to pee. The top of his ass, peeking out above his waistband. 

You wanted to blame it on the fact that you couldn’t leave due to brushing your teeth. . . but you knew that task could easily be finished in the kitchen sink. You’d done it enough when Elsie had lived with you, always hogging the bathroom. 

But. . . That wasn’t what you’d wanted though. Didn’t want to brush your teeth at the kitchen sink.

The domestic feeling surrounding you was what you wanted. You liked this. No worries or cares, complete comfort in the presence of another person. 

It was different than anything you’d ever had before. 

You had never experienced such a wonderful companionship with someone. Someone you could have world-ending sex with, just to witness that same person using the bathroom. No shame on his end and there was absolutely no shame on your end either. 

It just felt right. 

But, when you glanced over to your bathroom partner and actually got a good look at him peeing, the little spurt of a laugh that trickled from your lips as you spit. . . It came naturally. It was more than humor that came with the laugh, though. 

It really wasn’t because you found it to be a funny moment. The laugh hadn’t come at all from feeling humorous. 

It came smoothly, softly. And strangely. . . appreciatively. You appreciated this moment — appreciated all that came with Jake. 

“What, Miss Toothbrush?” He questioned with a jokingly accusatory tone. His whiskey colored irises peeked at you briefly before he leaned forward to flush and close the lid. He was tucking himself back in his pants, now, and your eyes refused to leave the sight. “Have you never witnessed a guy peeing before?” 

Actually. . . Hm.

“No, I haven’t,” you responded, still quietly smiling at the whole situation, your own eyes flicking to his face. Your brows crinkled. “I’ve just. . . I’ve never had this with anyone else. Never felt this good with anyone but you.”

“Oh?” He asked, eyebrows raising as he adjusted himself in his pants. “And what do you mean by that, my fair maiden?”

What did you mean by that? Shit. 

You moved back from the sink, thoughtful and worrying at the words that’d just spilled from your lips. Meanwhile, you swiped the same washcloth across your mouth he’d used to wipe his. Didn’t bother you at all.

Your steps led you to sitting on the toilet seat.

As the cold, ceramic lid touched your bare ass, you realized. . . It felt completely natural and right to use the same damn towel, too. Fuck. 

Why did everything feel so right? So natural? This hadn’t even been going on long enough for that. You’d only met him a couple of months ago, for God’s sake. 

And all this arrangement really was, was just two roommates who liked to fuck. . . If you could go so far, you’d even say two friends who liked to fuck who also happened to live together. 

That was why you felt good. Because of the incredible sex. . . Right?!

As he went about washing his hands, you clutched the small towel in your hands. You squeezed it so tight, your knuckles turned white. But you had to hold onto something. You weren’t sure what you were feeling and it stressed you the fuck out. 

Though before your mind could spiral any further, the sink was shutting off and Jake was placing his freshly dried hands on your bare legs, slowly coming to squat in front of you. The way his purposeful hands squeezed right above your knees in reassurance, it made your nipples peak beneath the t-shirt you wore. 

You were wearing one of his t-shirts. Truly enveloped by all things Jake. On theme with the whole damn morning. 

Fuck. 

“Y/n,” Jake began, your lost stare snapping to him. He was suddenly eye-level with you. His mouth was smiling, but his eyes were concerned. “What’s going through that pretty head, baby?”

I don’t know. I don’t fucking know, you mentally responded, worriedly. I’m feeling too much and that’s dangerous. 

“Nothing,” you responded, your voice faltering just enough to make him raise a brow. You cleared your throat, sitting up straighter in front of him. Avoid avoid avoid. You were just overthinking. That was all. “Seriously.” 

With a glance at the shower, you got an idea. 

Perfect distraction. Imagining it already had you shivering with want. 

“You know. . . We haven’t christened the shower yet,” you proposed, looking at him from the corner of your eye. 

His mouth was slightly ajar, having been about to say something. 

Just ignore me, Jake, you pleaded internally. Let it go. 

He wasn’t wavering. His gaze was heavier than normal, trapping you in the moment with him. Wanted you to confess to more emotion. But you decided you needed him to meet you where you were. . . now. Needed him to drop this. 

It didn’t matter.

So, you moved forward to sweetly kiss his lips. His lips, ever so soft against yours. The kiss started innocently enough, but you’d been intentional with it, helping you to deepen it seamlessly. 

Your body opened up to him, your knees parting to welcome him between them. His hands moved up naturally, going to grasp your hips in a strong grip. You moved forward just enough that your core touched his midsection. 

The groan that blossomed from deep in his throat was enough to make your panties dampen. Your change in position caused him to graze his hands up your sides. His calloused thumbs brushed across your tight nipples. You breathed a needy moan, pushing yourself into him. 

Still kissing you and going to fully massage your left breast, he removed the other hand from you to reach over to the shower curtain, yanking it open in one take. The sound of the metal curtain rod interacting with the metal hangers made your clit twitch with desperation. Yes.

When he pulled away from you, his lips were so swollen and pink, freshly kissed. You could’ve cried at the loss of contact, and the way his hungry eyes drank you in. But before long, his gaze moved from you to the shower handle, turning it on with one sure twist.  

As the water heated up, he stood and started stripping himself of his own t-shirt, removed his pajama pants. His thick cock sprang freely from the waistline of them, causing your mouth to fill with saliva. You needed him on your tongue.

Swallowing in anticipation, you began to take off your own shirt. Your eyes trailed up his torso to his face. When you looked up to observe him, he was combing one hand through the front of his hair, tousling it as his eyes stayed on you. 

You felt your warm, bare skin hit the cool yet humid air of the bathroom, watched him as he slowly rubbed a thumb across his bottom lip. A smirk dragged across his full lips. 

Watching as a dimple dipped his cheek, you rose from your position on the ceramic seat. And as you made quick work of your underwear, kicking them to the side, he didn’t move. The tip of his thumb stayed on his bottom lip, his smirk becoming secretive in a way that wasn’t mischievous. 

It was secretive in a way that confused the hell out of you. The look that spread from his dark eyes, all the way down to his mouth. . . it made your skin heat with an unnamed emotion. 

It only took a few seconds of standing naked in front of him to feel the pull to walk to him. After a couple of steps, you met him, wrapping your arms around his waist. With your naked fronts touching one another so intimately, his hands found your face, thumbs delicately tracing your cheekbones. 

“I’ve never felt this good before, either,” he said, voice toned down just for you to hear, against the  rush of water in the shower to your right. “This is. . . more than anything I’ve ever experienced. All because of you.”

-🌼🌼🌼-

Present Day

The nerves dissipated a bit as you observed the perky, pretty blonde tech who walked you to the back. She was a good distraction with her high, swaying blonde ponytail and chipper attitude. 

The first thing she did was send you to pee in a cup with your name on it, to check your sugar and protein levels. Then, as you made your way to the bathroom, she also told you that she was going to weigh you when you came out. 

“And after all of that, I’ll be able to take you to the exam room,” she explained, high-pitched and waving her hands around as if she was a cheerleader. “Yay!”

So, after peeing in a cup and placing it in a window to get checked, you took off your bag and shoes to step onto the old school scale. The mechanism squeaked, showing its age, as you adjusted awkwardly on it to get weighed. Oh, the sacred scale. . . Every woman’s favorite part of a doctor appointment, right? 

Though, your favorite part of the entire experience was the way she was obviously undressing Jake with her eyes as you stood on the scale. Her now-extremely flirty tone as she spoke with him made you want to roll your eyes all the way into the back of your skull. 

The woman wasn’t paying you, the patient, any sort of proper attention. You were convinced she hadn’t even noticed you coming out of the bathroom from peeing in the blessed cup. 

No, instead, she seemed to be solely focused on getting a healthy dose of Jake as you stood and waited on her to notice you. Real cute and professional. 

To your relief, it seemed Jake didn’t notice her flirting. . . or just didn’t care that she was being flirtatious. He appeared to be disassociating from her behavior so he didn’t notice you waiting. He was trying his damndest to keep friendly conversation with her, much like Josh would do (although, you took note of how Jake was quite toned down in comparison to his twin). It seemed difficult for him, though, with how tuned out of it he was.

You really loved listening to Jake talk. You could spend endless hours listening to him ramble on. What you didn’t love was watching the little tech’s eyes trained on his face, the way she bit her lip as her eyes twinkled. She watched him so damn carefully with every word (not many, mind you) he spoke, as she ignored you. 

It was not about to be on you to weigh yourself. And you weren’t about to stand on the scale for a second longer. You weren’t here for Little Miss Blondie with a Body to drool over Jake. It was especially grating to watch as you stood on a fucking scale with a bigger number than you were used to seeing, glaring back at you. 

To put it simply: you were already feeling fat thanks to the unavoidable body changes, you didn’t need to feel vastly unimportant right now either. You could only take so much vulnerability in this state. Clearing your throat with plain annoyance evident on your face, you waited for her to get the fucking clue as you continued to stand pointlessly on the scale. 

“Oh my god, yes!” She squealed. “Silly me. I’m supposed to be getting your weight, aren’t I, hun?” The tech gave Jake a little embarrassed smile that he didn’t see, his eyes instantly coming to set on you. 

He didn’t notice her tiny, ‘pick me’ grin, as he was already walking over to check on you. She was left to trail behind him, still going on about how ‘silly’ she was. Dear God.

“Don’t call me hun,” you replied sharply, done with her little cutesy act. “Pretty sure you’re the same age as me or younger. So, please. Stop that shit.” 

Jake snorted a laugh at your attitude. A hand covered his mouth inconspicuously, fingers tapping against his lips that held a humored grin. Watching her with squinted eyes was all you did as she adjusted the pieces to figure out your weight. And finally, she wrote down your numbers on her chart. 

“S-sorry,” she stuttered, backing up as if burned by your vicinity to her. “I, um, think we’re good to go to the exam room now.” 

After stepping off the scale, you smoothed your sweater, slipped on your white Chucks, and grabbed your belt bag from the table beside the scale. You gave a side eyed glance to Jake, who was waiting on you and watching you with a little sparkle in his eye. He was amused. And at that, you had to smile a little, too. You even offered him a little wink before looking ahead to where the tech stood, waiting to lead you to the exam room.

When you looked forward and saw the pretty blonde a few steps ahead of you, you caught eyes with her. She now looked slightly dejected after the minuscule exchange between you and Jake, that she’d apparently witnessed. Her eyes fluttered down when you looked at her. 

Dear Lord, girl, he’s literally here with a woman carrying his child, you reasoned for her silently, scoffing internally at the tinge of disappointment on her fairy-like features. Have some sense; he’s probably not at a fucking OBGYN office to find a girlfriend.

Not that you were his girlfriend. . . A very upsetting truth. But she didn’t have to know that. 

“Well,” you tried, voice a little lighter with sympathy for her. You understood. . . He was a catch. A handsome catch that you couldn’t have, either. “I think that sounds great. Let’s get a look at the baby, hm?”

At your encouraging smile, she seemed to perk up a bit and even turned with a little pep back in her step to lead you further to a room.

But you didn’t notice much more than that as Jake came up to walk in step next to you, resting a hand at the base of your back. His gesture worked very well at distracting you and dissipating your irritable nerves. 

Fearful of ruining the moment, you kept your eyes forward and walked in good enough time to stay in line with him. Losing his touch was the last thing you wanted.

-🌼🌼🌼-

Thankfully, the tech didn’t stay in the room for long. She checked your blood pressure and other vital signs quickly as you sat on the exam chair, legs dangling.

But, you noticed she lingered on your heart for a while. . . She took her time to check on that. The excessive time spent on observing your heart health helped you to know that your chart had definitely been updated since your ER stint. 

Eventually, she was done and you were able to breathe easier. She made you nearly gag once more when she bounced out of the room, offering a dainty wave and a sugary fuckin’ sweet ‘bye, bye’ (mostly directed towards Jake, of course). 

“Good God,” you groaned, soothing the wrinkles on your forehead with a stiff hand. “She had a little crush,” you commented with a smirk, still trying to mask just how annoyed you truly were. “A lot like Kaia. You’re a damn babe magnet to all these poor women who can’t have you.” 

And don’t I fucking know it, you grumbled internally. Want you and can’t have you.

Jake just sat back in his seat and rolled his eyes, deciding to ignore your jest. But then he leveled you with a contemplative stare, brows furrowed. “Speaking of babe magnets. . . Are you still talking to that guy? Study Buddy?”

Oh shit. How did you even begin to approach that? Were you talking to Theo? Not regularly, by any means. . . But he was always sitting on the back burner in your mind. You made a mental note to reach out to the jock at some point.

Theo sat on that back burner as you waited to make your next move. You still needed to execute your plan of distracting yourself from Jake. It felt necessary. If you were with someone else, it put a  blocker up to prove to yourself that you could be fine with Jake being with someone else. The more time went by, the more ridiculous it sounded. . . But you still wanted to roll with it. 

So, you answered as though you were doing such. 

“Yeah, actually,” you half-lied, looking down to pull your sweater over your hands. Nervous habit. “I actually need to reach out to him and plan our next date.”

“Study Buddy isn’t reaching out to you to do that?” Jake scoffed. “He’s a fucking catch, y/n.”

You imagined him shaking his head in disbelief. And when you looked up, he was doing just that as he crossed his legs. Then, his arms over his chest. But he had no room to judge. One, it wasn’t his business. And two, you just didn’t want him judging. Wanted him to just fuck off with the subject. You didn’t want to think about stupid ass Theo and dates right now. Didn’t want to agree with Jake that yes, Theo wasn’t the best catch. You knew that. But you didn’t want to talk about that with Jake of all people.

So, you backfired. 

“His name is Theo, Jake. Quit calling him Study Buddy,” you rolled your eyes at the ridiculous nickname he’d started that night so long ago. Theo, in your bedroom waiting on you as Jake had you wrapped around him in the bathroom. “The nickname is stupid. Makes you sound jealous. And I know you’re not.”

“And if I am?”

Don’t say that. 

“You have a girlfriend, Jake. A fucking perfect one at that. You shouldn’t be jealous of another man in my life when she is as perfect as she is,” you tried to reason, but the compliment had you near gagging. You were just in complete shock. Why was he being like this? It was confusing the hell out of you. 

“Why are you implying that you’re not—?” Jake started, cutting himself off. He rolled his eyes, ruffling the front of his hair while leaning forward, then back again in his seat. “Fuck, y/n. I know I shouldn’t be. Of course I know that. I can’t fucking control it,” he gruffly stated, running a hand through his hair as his other hand gripped the opposite bicep. His black boot tapped the ground, semi-anxiously for a few seconds before he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. 

When he opened his eyes, he was crossing his arms again, biceps still distracting you as his hands gripped them so tightly through his button down. His voice had calmed down to near-normal next time he spoke. “Doesn’t change the fact that I don’t like imagining you. . . with him. I don’t like imagining you like that with any other man. Much less a fucking prick on a football scholarship. By the way—seriously, y/n? Football?”

“How do you know he has a football scholarship?” You questioned, avoiding the glaring topic at hand. Avoid, avoid, avoid. He simply couldn’t be jealous if you choose to not acknowledge it.

“Context clues. He’s always wearing that fuckin’ Pratt football shit. Shorts, shirts, sweats, hats. . . Fuck.” He rolled his eyes once again. When he looked at you again, his eyes became deeper, showing he was earnest in what he had to say. “You can do better, y/n. Could get anyone you want. As much as I don’t want to see you with anyone, you can still do better than—.”

You were steaming angry. Because he was wrong. You couldn’t get anyone you wanted. The only one you wanted was completely unattainable. Minor recent hiccups in the kitchen and car aside. You knew he wasn’t a possibility anymore. How dare he put you on the spot like this?! Who the fuck did he think he was?

“Goddammit, Jake! Stop!” You snapped, no longer listening and cutting him off. “You’re in a relationship. You lost the right to counsel my dating choices the moment you started dating someone else.”

Someone else. . . As if he’d ever actually dated you. 

And you’re the one who initially let him go, y/n, a serene voice reminded you. Sounded too much like something your damn sister would say. Don’t forget he didn’t want anyone else. You forced him into it.

Not. The. Fucking. Point. You refused to hear the sense of that at this moment.

“I don’t want your opinions on any man I bring into my life. Not your place. I didn’t ask for it and I don’t want it,” you argued, pushing the sleeves of your sweater up, suddenly feeling very warm with emotion. He made you so damn angry. “Keep them to yourself. Never once have I judged you for being with Maya. And I’m the one carrying your baby — having to watch you—. Dammit.” You felt hot tears growing in your eyes and swelling in your throat. Fuck. Not now. 

And still, against your will, you felt a stray tear drop to your cheek. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Jake drop his hands and stand up, already making his way to you. “Y/n—.”

You turned your head from him, telling him you didn’t want him to try to comfort you. You were angry. And hurt. (And truly wanted him to hold you so badly you couldn’t stand it.)

With a sniffle, you kept on, saying things you definitely shouldn’t have been saying as you kept eyes on the light pink vinyl of the exam chair. “For the past several months, I have had to think about you fucking her and bringing her around. And having to think about that shit while I have a baby inside of me that we made together?” You paused, making sure to emphasize that point to him. Because it truly sucked ass to have to experience Jake and Maya anyway, but while pregnant with his kid? 

“So you have no fucking right to bring up who I’m seeing. Not your damn business, Jake. And Theo has done nothing but show that he’s a good man. I haven’t ever judged Maya, because she’s a good person,” (slight lie — you’d definitely judged her, but whatever). “So don’t you dare start with all of the jealousy and shit. I, the overly hormonal one, have sucked it up, so you can, too.”

He was closer now, standing right next to you. You could smell his enticing cologne and could feel his presence. Almost touching you, but not quite. He seemed scared to make a move. Good. 

But, really, not good at all. You wanted him close. Whether it was close enough to hug him or slap him, you weren’t sure. Probably more the former, which had you wanting to slap yourself. You were supposed to be mad. But the two more tears that sadly trailed down your cheeks and onto the exam table proved to you that you were mostly just. . . Heartbroken. Plain old heartbroken over not having him. 

“Y/n. . .,” Jake tried again, coming just close enough that his thighs touched your knees, bent to hang off the table. And then his hands were coming to sit on the very end of your thigh, rubbing soothing circles into the flesh through your pants. “Can you look at me?”

You huffed, irritated more with yourself than anyone. But you wanted to blame it on him as much as you could, so you honored his wish and your eyes floated up from the table. Wanted to really make him feel bad.

But, when you found his beautiful brown eyes giving you a sympathetic look, you tried to glare. . . Though, you knew you looked more broken and slightly (very) pathetic. Stupid.

“What, Jake?” You sniffled, one more tear betraying you, trickling down your cheek. 

But before the tear could make it to your jaw like the others, Jake was reaching out to stop it. His thumb swiped gently at the soft skin of your cheek. 

“I’m so sorry,” he said, desperate for you to believe him. His eyes searched yours, which stared blankly back at him. “Y/n, I. . . I—.”

The knock on the door was enough to make the two of you part, Jake even moving back a couple steps. You readjusted yourself on the table, stretching your legs out on it, sitting up in the chair. Tucking the heel of your hand into the sleeve of your sweater, you wiped carefully under both of your eyes as the doctor entered. 

“Hello, hello! How’re we feelin’ today, Mama?” You heard Dr. Rose before you looked over at her. When you did, you first saw her beautiful naturally black hair done in a half-up, half-down. It looked sloppy and intentionally styled all at once.

And, of course, her bright smile showed immediately as she looked over at you. Her bright red lipstick, making her entire look pop, right along with those mid-century-esque black-rimmed glasses. The smile that tugged at your lips was effortless as you engaged in her soothing aura. 

“Feeling good, Dr. Rose,” you responded, keeping your eyes on her back as she prepped the equipment. Jake had chosen a vantage point, leaning against the wall next to your chair. “What about you? How’s life been treating you?”

She looked over at you, momentarily paused with a slightly surprised look on her face. But she recovered quickly with a response. “Y/n, you are just too darn precious. Clients rarely ask me how I’m doin’. Means a lot, babygirl,” she grinned, turning on the monitor. After washing her hands, she grabbed a pair of plastic gloves from the box of them hung on the wall. “As a matter ‘a fact, I’m doin’ great, honeybun. And I can’t wait to see what’s goin’ on with your sweet baby. You feelin’ any better since that visit to the hospital?”

The blush that painted your cheeks at the mention of your visit was unstoppable. Why the hospital escapade embarrassed you, you weren’t sure. It shouldn’t, but it did. Just. . . kind of made you feel weak.

“Y-yes,” you coughed to clear any discomfort from your tone. “I’m just glad we were able to start figuring a few things out that night.”

Dr. Rose hummed in response, motioning you to lay back. And, so you did, as she reclined the seat backwards for you as much as she deemed necessary. Not too far back, leaving you with a really nice view of the screen.

Jake moved slightly, you caught it from the corner of your vision. And you couldn’t stop your eyes from flitting over to him. His eyes, laser-focused on everything happening in the room. And, as if he could sense it, his eyes found yours as you watched his expression change from one of wonder to his own bit of embarrassment that you’d been watching him. 

Or so you assumed that’s why his cheeks flushed. Neither of you cared to tear your eyes away from the other, your gazes locked as Dr. Rose went about her business. Though, when the doctor cleared her throat, both sets of eyes shot over to her quickly, as if you’d been caught. 

You noticed the equipment was ready to go, the monitor completely on as Dr. Rose kept a hand on the transducer, waiting patiently with a smile on her face, ready to begin. 

“I’m also relieved you’ve started findin’ some answers, sweetie pie. Your chart has been updated, thanks to the hospital’s communication with us,” she mentioned, placing a fist on her hip as she stood waiting to start. “So, if you don’t want to, you won’t have to give me any details. But if you want to fill me in on anything,” she dragged the word want out in her Southern twang. “I’m all ears, honey bug.”

“Thanks,” you smiled, the grin lopsided and easy. But your jitters to begin the ultrasound were at the forefront of your mind. “I’m just excited to see the baby.”

“Well, then. I’m excited, too. Let’s do it,” she assured, but just as she picked the instrument up, she put it back. “You know what–I almost forgot the darn jelly! Silly me,” Dr. Rose laughed quietly to herself, shaking her head as deep dimples pierced her cheeks. “While, I grab it, though. . . wanna introduce me to our newbie?” Her eyes shot over to Jake, as she opened a cabinet, turning towards you, her brow raising with a secret grin, aimed at you. 

Your tummy flipped at the realization that you’d, once again, be introducing Jake as the baby’s father. You quickly glanced over at him, and when you did he was already watching you. The way your lips curved up with an unnamed emotion was quick and of its own volition. His expression seemed to match yours.

“This is Jake,” you answered her, with your eyes still on him. But just as soon, you glanced over to her to finish your statement. “He’s the other half of the baby.”

“Oh yes,” the doctor nodded slowly, taking it in. “I remember you mentionin’ him on the phone,” she remarked before momentarily giving him her full attention. A million-dollar smile lit up her features as she stripped her gloves, throwing them away. Stepping forward a few steps, her stilettos clicked against the linoleum before she outstretched her hand to greet him. “Happy to have ya, Jake. Hope to see you at more appointments to come. Were ya busy for our first?” 

She didn’t sound judgemental at all. But the idea of him not being there for the very first appointment made guilt bubble up in you again for not telling him sooner. 

You felt the need to admit to her your mistake of not having told him yet. “He didn’t kn—.”

“Yeah,” he responded quickly, cutting you off. Your eyes flitted over to him. The smile on his face reassured you, a little grin being thrown your way before he addressed her again. “I've been working a couple of different jobs that were holding me up that day,” he covered with a lie. “Worst timing ever and couldn’t get out of it.”

His sincere eyes traveled to you for a second, seemingly letting you know you shouldn’t feel bad. He knew you. A tiny grin found your features at his attempt to make you feel better. His eyes were back on her before you could give him a bigger smile.

“I hated that I couldn’t be here,” he continued, voice faltering as he covered his mouth with a fist. He cleared his throat. The small grin you’d been wearing fell from your face. 

He shook his head and then moved his fist to wave off his words, though, still only looking at the doctor. He hadn’t seen your reaction to his words. “However, my twin got to come in my place, so that’s gotta count for something, right?” 

As Dr. Rose and Jake shared a laugh over a few more words exchanged about identical twins and ‘so-called telepathy’, you couldn’t help but feel a twist in your gut. You knew he was telling the truth that he hated that he hadn’t been able to be there. He could reassure you all day long, and you knew he wasn’t holding it over your head. . . That wasn’t who Jake was.

But. . . It didn’t change the fact that he’d still missed that first appointment and the first chance to see the baby you’d created together. All because you’d been so concerned to keep a secret. A secret he’d absolutely deserved to be privy to. 

“Well then,” Dr. Rose cut in, clapping her hands. “Let’s get down to business, shall we?”

You gnawed at your lip, chancing a look at Jake. He was waiting for you, sending a private wink as the doctor had turned her back. He shook his head. “It’s okay,” he mouthed the words, arms crossing once more over his chest as he came to stand closer to you.

You blushed; he knew. 

Dr. Rose was washing her hands as he continued to move nearer to you. He stopped once he was leaning against the exam chair, laying an arm against the back of it. Your eyes were glued to every action of his. The way his shirt raised the slightest bit when he stretched his arm out behind you, showing the bottom of his firm stomach. The exposed tanned skin, tempting you with how close he was to you. 

Not to mention, with his arm behind you, you felt deliciously surrounded by him. And you got the most incredible whiff of his cologne. Amber, sandalwood, suede. . . Made you feel so warm and secure.

You didn’t even realize you were staring at his abdomen until the doctor cleared her throat. Caught again. Your cheeks heated. Dammit! What in the hell? Weren’t you just mad at him?

“So, you two. . .,” Dr. Rose spoke, bringing your eyes to her. She was just finishing with washing her hands, drying them on a stiff, white paper towel that she quickly deposited into the trash. “I always have to ask— what are we hopin’ for? Boy or girl?”

She browsed the cabinet farthest left, locating the jelly with no trouble at all, obviously, and placed the tube on the counter before pulling on another pair of gloves. 

“Um,” you started, leaning on your elbows, sitting up a bit to give an answer. “As long as the baby is healthy. . . that’s all I care about.”

Dr. Rose made a noise of acknowledgement, but she flashed you a look. “Not the first time I’ve heard that one,” she winked at you, swiping the jelly from the counter on her way back to you. “But what if I told you you got to pick. I feel like everyone has just a bit of a preference.”

Wrinkling a brow, you thought about it for a second. You honestly didn’t have a preference. All you cared about was the baby having Jake’s eyes and smile (and every other feature of his, if possible). Was that something you could say out loud? 

“I know what I’d want,” Jake chimed in from behind you, still leaning against the back of the chair. 

You peeked at him over your shoulder, hair flipping in the process. For some reason, the action made you feel pretty. And when Jake caught your eye briefly, you saw his lips lift a bit more. His expression was soft as he observed you. 

He was looking at you, but addressing Dr. Rose when he spoke next. “I’ve told y/n the entire reason, but I won’t get into it right now for time’s sake,” he began, hip leaning into the chair enough that he touched your arm. He was right there with you. And you liked it that way. “I just know if I could have my pick for the first one, I’d say a girl would be fun. But, y/n is right. . . All I really care about is if the baby is doing okay in every way possible.”

First one. . . Again, referring to more than one child. You eyed him curiously for a moment, making his eyebrows scrunch in response — as if he were asking ‘what?’. But you just shook your head in response.

“Well, alrighty then,” the doctor responded. 

Both of you looked over to her, and you saw her lifting a brow before she flashed her perfect teeth towards the two of you. Her signature red lipstick, an assurance of some weird sort. You barely knew the woman, but she just made you feel good. Then, after uncapping the ultrasound gel, she aimed it above your tummy. “And I just want to make completely sure – you are wanting to find out the gender today?”

Without even looking at one another, you both simultaneously answered. “Yes.”

“Sounds like a plan,” she responded warmly, winking towards the two of you before taking her spot next to you and the machine. “Lean back and lift your shirt for me, babygirl. And, Jake, if you don’t mind switchin’ off those lights, sweetie. I like to have ‘em off for the gender reveal.”

You both did as you were told, but as soon as your bare tummy felt the cool air of the room, you realized. . . This would be the first time for Jake to see your round belly without anything to cover it. In the dark, mind you. But still. . . 

Though, at the prospect of him seeing your naked belly, you weren’t nervous. Not at all, actually. . . it just made you feel all jittery and excited. Then, without any warning (you’d done it before, so she needn’t warn you), she was squeezing the gel onto your stomach.

Just like before, it wasn’t as cold as you’d expect. No, it was still warmer than movies might try to convince you. You felt nerves wrap around you, just like last time, as soon as she lifted the transducer from its spot. Suddenly, you worried that the baby wasn’t going to be okay. That the heartbeat wouldn’t be thumping like last time. . . . That the screen would have sad news rather than happy.

You lifted one hand to your chest, to cover your heart monitor – just waiting for the phone to go off in your belt bag. The anxiety was making your head spin and she hadn’t even touched the transducer to your stomach yet. Your mind was literally going a mile a minute – the heart under your palm, daring to go just as fast.

Then, you felt a familiar hand come down to touch your other hand – the one still laying at your side, nearest him. And when you looked up, two Amber-brown irises met yours in the dark, silently consoling you. The monitor lit up the room just enough for you to see him mouth something towards you. Your skin warmed at the feeling of him being so sensitive towards you. 

“Everything will be okay,” he silently assured, mouth moving just right for you to pick up the words. 

At his words, tears threatened to spill. You couldn’t completely conceal the emotion as one tear slid down your cheek. You didn’t care too much, though – just reached further for his hand, wanting to fully grasp it. Eyes still holding his, you didn’t worry about any repercussions. Considering, there was definitely much worse you’d done than holding his damn hand. The Jeep. The kitchen. 

But right now, you desperately needed someone – needed him. And this was how you needed him. It took no time at all for him to lace his fingers through yours. And it was the most euphoric feeling you could think of at that moment. Holding his hand was making your heart melt in your chest, and the way it soothed you was unlike anything else. Your palms comfortably met, at the same time you felt your heart slow down and your breaths become a tad more even.

When you were safely holding onto him, you felt brave enough to look at the screen. It was awaiting you, just like Dr. Rose. When you made eye contact with her, she was watching you with care. 

“It’s goin’ to be okay, sweetheart,” she reassured you, accent thick. “Ready?”

“Yes,” you gasped, before sniffling once and shaking your head out to rid yourself of the worries. 

Jake squeezed your hand a little tighter. You did the same back. It was heaven. And next thing you knew, the wand was touching your tummy, connecting with the jelly. And as she moved the device over your stomach, she pressed in just a little. But it all felt seamless and gentle with the smoothness of the gel. It was an odd feeling, but nice all the same. 

You were feeling hopeful. It’s going to be okay. The screen lit up with the gray static and the black spot in the middle of it all, that showed the inside of your tummy.

And, as Dr. Rose adjusted the transducer just a little more, pushing just so against your tummy, you started seeing your baby. Right there, in front of you, you started seeing little pieces of your baby’s body. What you saw on the screen was unparalleled. The tiny, exquisite, flawless human. . .

“Would ya look at that!” Dr. Rose exclaimed, her tone doing very little to mask how enthusiastic she was to see what she saw on her screen. “Those arms and legs are lookin’ beautiful. Perfect in length on both of  ‘em.”

She checked a few more things, moving the instrument around on your abdomen a fairly decent amount. Then, as she took a few pictures and drew a few lines on the baby, she mentioned the essentials. Size of the baby. The position of the baby and placenta. The umbilical cord’s normality. And, finally, the amount of amniotic fluid. You heard the entirety of what she took notes on, but you only listened to what you needed to as you continued to watch the love of your life move around in your womb. Your eyes were glued to the moving wonder inside of you.

“Everything seems absolutely exemplary from what I can tell,” Dr. Rose encouraged, from her spot, where she stood at the machine. She clicked a few buttons as you continued to watch the screen in amazement.

Your eyes drew tears and you felt Jake’s hand wrap even tighter to yours. His thumb gave gentle circles to the back of your hand, catching your attention. But when you looked up at him to see if he needed you, he was mesmerized by the screen. You knew there was no taking his eyes from the monitor. And you didn’t want to. 

In fact, your own eyes instantly sought out the screen again when you knew he didn’t need you. You could watch the happenings on the screen for hours on end, the way the baby seemed to move around in your womb. 

“You’ve got a very active little one,” your doctor giggled, moving the instrument around a bit on your tummy. The little circles she made with the transducer at the bottom of your tummy gave you a perfect view of your baby’s movements. 

The way your heart pressed to your chest was unlike any other emotion you’d ever had. The only thing comparable to the feeling you had at this moment was how you felt to see the little bean alive in you the first time. You knew for a fact that the way Jake was feeling right now was unique to anything else he’d ever experienced. You’d been just as transfixed your first time. But, watching your baby, bigger then before, do a little womb dance on the screen was. . . even more exciting. So, truly, you knew Jake was feeling the full range of positive emotions. 

“Are babies always this active?” You laughed, tears pricking at your tear ducts at the wiggle worm on the screen. The wetness sat in your eyes, blurring your vision until you blinked, a couple falling down the side of your face. 

“The happiest, healthiest ones give ya more of a jig,” Dr. Rose noted with pride in her tone. “That means your little one is living a satisfactory life already. You’re taking proper care of your little angel.” 

Suddenly, you felt a tear hit the top of your hand. And when you looked up, you saw Jake’s eyes doing the same thing as yours. In steady time, you saw at least four tears trickle down his cheeks. His other hand was laid across his mouth in astonishment before he took the same hand and brushed it through the front of his hair. 

With a sniff, he pulled his eyes from the screen for the first time and looked down at you, removing his hand from his mouth. His eyes were full of something akin to adoration, a shaky, close-mouthed smile on his lips. Your heart fluttered in your chest at his expression and you gave him the same one back. 

“Thank you for taking care of our baby so well,” he said, voice raspy with emotion. With a sniffle, he wiped under his eyes with his free hand. “You are already the most incredible mom. Our baby is so lucky to have you.”

You couldn’t stop the few tears that leaked from your eyes onto the chair. Those were undoubtedly words you would cherish for a long, long time. You could feel those words slide right into your heart from his lips. 

There was nothing more you could say to that other than three of the truest words you’d ever spoken. “She’s worth it.”

She? Now you were referring to it as a girl. And, in that moment, you realized how very ready you were to know.

“Oh, now. . . it seems Mama might be leanin’ towards a girl, hm?” Dr. Rose cut in, making your eyes float from Jake to her and then immediately back to the screen. Your beautiful, bouncing baby. . . Yours and Jake’s. Together. 

Your eyes continued to follow every single movement of your baby’s when you asked her your next question. “I know it’s stupid to ask because the baby’s mov–.”

“Nothin’ is stupid to ask in here, babygirl,” Dr. Rose reassured you. “This is your baby. Every question is an important one.”

“Thanks,” you said with a gentle smile, pausing your mesmerization for a second to look at your kind doctor. She was holding the instrument to your tummy, but had paused with her eyes waiting for your question. “Is–is the heartbeat normal? Are we going to be able to hear it?”

“Oh, absolutely,” she adamantly agreed. “It’s time for me to hear it and note it anyhow.” Then, her wide, deep brown eyes looked over at Jake and your line of sight followed. “Ya ready to hear that heartbeat for the first time, daddy?”

Daddy. 

“Oh hell yeah,” he said, voice still wet with emotion, zero hesitation in the answer. 

He cleared his throat as the doctor clicked a button and instantly, you heard it. Clear as day. The steady whooshing thump of your baby’s heart rang through the room. It was enough to make you clasp your free hand to your mouth and grab Jake’s hand a little tighter. 

Surprisingly, the tears didn’t fall, but you felt them bubble up in your throat. However, you felt a couple more tears from above you, hitting the top of your hand. 

“Let’s zoom in here,” Dr. Rose encouraged, clicking a few more times to see the baby’s image become even bigger. And when she did, you saw it. The little flickering of the baby’s heart in its chest. “Healthy, healthy heart in this little one. We’re gettin’ about 144 beats per minute. And that’s what I like to call ideal.”

You could have sung a thousand praises for your child, but you didn’t. Instead, you looked up to see Jake’s reaction. And this time, he felt your stare and slowly turned his head to find your eyes, welling with tears. Just like his. It was a moment straight out of a dream. The baby’s heartbeat, echoing throughout the room; Jake’s hand gripping yours with undeniable reliability and comfort; and your eyes, matching one another’s deep level of trust and admiration. 

In that moment, you felt the most connected to him you could’ve ever felt. The screen fulfilled every wish you could imagine, a healthy baby you’d made together – equally and perfectly – him and you. You wanted to trap this moment in time and never, ever leave it.

“Y’all ready to know that gender?” Dr. Rose questioned, a little thrill in her tone. 

The two of you looked over at her after a few more quiet moments of gazing towards one another. “Yes,” you both said, once again, in unison. 

With a smile that seemed to fill half of her face, she nodded. “Alright. You’re going to hear the heartbeat stop, but it just means I turned the sound off. It doesn’t mean anythin’ is wrong with your little babe.”

“Okay,” you readily responded with a warm smile, your heart racing at the prospect of knowing if your baby was a boy or girl. 

In seconds it seemed, the transducer made a few magic moves after she’d clicked the sound of the heartbeat off. Because, suddenly, she’d found a spot that she paused the screen on to take a picture. And, after getting a few more angles of the same spot on the baby, she told you. 

“Looks like Daddy is a little psychic,” Dr. Rose noted with a wink towards Jake, her knowing smirk made your lips widen. No way. “You two are havin’ a girl.”

-🌼🌼🌼-

You were on your way home from the appointment when Josh called Jake. 

The groan you and Jake released was nearly identical. The two of you, having just stared at the Apple CarPlay screen for the first couple of rings. As rude as it may have seemed, you didn’t want to answer. Because, even though you loved Josh, now was not the time you necessarily wanted to talk to him. 

He’d completely interrupted you and Jake recounting almost every detail of the baby. But, when you did hesitantly answer, the curly headed twin was demanding that your little group get together for a night of ‘revelry and good laughs’. And, thankfully, having been in the Jetta, you’d gotten to partake in the twins’ conversation. 

“Plus, Sam could really use some time with the whole group. It’s been a tough week for the little guy,” Josh tacked onto the end, stopping for emphasis. 

The handsome, long haired twin didn’t answer his curly headed counterpart’s request. Instead, he looked over at you with a look that said ‘it’s up to you.’ So, you took control answering all of the questions that Josh asked, Jake gladly letting you take the floor.

“That’s doable,” you paused. “And ‘Little Guy’? Josh, Sam easily has like three or four inches on you, babe.”

“He will always be little. I am older, therefore he is little. Rules are rules,” Josh snarked back, ticking his tongue. “Jake, how do you feel about this woman’s accusations? Being the same height as me and all. . .”

“I’m not the same height as you,” Jake argued, turning on the blinker to exit off the highway. 

“You have an inch on me at best, fucker. That’s nothing,” Josh reasoned, his scoff being heard through the speaker. “Y/n, what are your thoughts on Jake being a snarky ass?”

It took you no time to join in on the jesting. You were enjoying it enough that being part of it sounded even more fun.

“Jake is easily bigger than you, Josh,” you remarked, sending a smirk in Jake’s direction. Jake glanced your way with a wink that made your cheeks go warm and pink. “As is Samuel.”

“Y/n,” Josh started with a gasp, put-on horror in his tone. He was obviously enjoying this, too. “I'm asking about Jake’s height, not his size.”

“Josh!” Jake interrupted before he could say anything further, swerving a little as both of you sat in semi-shock. 

All that ran through your mind was how bold it was for Josh to make a statement like that. . . He was still relatively new to knowing about you knowing about Jake’s — as he put it — size. But. . . the more you thought about it and let Jake chew him out over the phone, the more you realized, it would’ve been like this if Josh had known before. Because, well, it was Josh. 

And nothing was too taboo for Josh Kiszka to discuss. Including the size of his twin’s dick, apparently. 

“Josh,” you started, stopping his rant from the other end of the call. The huff you heard from Jake’s nostrils and the way his skin had become a shade of light red made you regret getting lost in thought. It had made you miss out on something that had Jake blushing hardcore.

Hm. Jake, angry and blushing. It made your own face feel hot and your nipples press a little harder against your bra. You crossed your legs, giving Jake one more side-eye. Fuck, he was so hot. His lips pursed as he tousled a hand through his hair. You crossed your arms over your breasts, creating some sort of pressure to avoid any uncomfortability for the duration of the drive. 

Damn hormones.

You shook your head, remembering you had something to say, facing the road as Jake stopped a little too late at a stop sign. What had Josh said? “Josh. I have only ever seen one of you in that way, so your remark doesn’t even make sense,” you said your piece, giving one more quick look at Jake before your next words. He was still trying to drive straight, lips tightly together. “And I think I can make a good assumption that Jake is bigger anyway.”

“Y/n!” the twins said in tandem, tones worlds different. Josh, praising your grit and Jake, completely startled at the statement. Jake’s face reddened further and he once again ran a hand through his hair. He didn’t necessarily seem upset. Not at all, really, just. . . Flustered and frustrated. 

Hm. . . 

“Now that y/n has completely flabbergasted us both,” Josh started from the other end almost immediately (thankfully avoiding any awkward silence), “Let’s get back to planning. Good on you, y/n. I quite like the boldness. It suits you.”

If only you knew how bold I’d been recently, Joshua. . ., you thought, mind going directly to the night in the Jeep.

You looked over at Jake once more before getting into the planning. For a second, you really worried you’d made him angry. A trauma response of yours, one might say. But, when you regarded him once more, you caught him. 

He’d stopped at another stop sign, and had his eyes glued to your body. In fact, he was so entranced by you that he didn’t even notice you looking at him. His eyes traveled between your breasts and legs. Your clenched thighs, which squeezed together of their own accord at his attention. His stare was fire on your skin. Felt it everywhere. Your arms crossed tighter to your chest, needing more of his attention than his eyes.

A car honking behind you both made his eyes snap directly to the road, never noticing your attention to him. Your face was hot as fuck when you shook your head, playing it all off. The conversation had become too much in that capacity and you needed to plan a damn get-together. You now knew you should probably not spend the night alone in the apartment with Jake. 

Without another thought, you continued planning the event with Josh. “Okay, so. Tonight. Our place. All of that’s been settled. What are you wanting to eat?” You tucked a lock of hair behind your ear, choosing to focus on the sonogram pictures as you placed the hand from your hair on your round belly. “Rather, what is Sammy wanting to eat? Since his week hasn’t been the best, he should probably choose right?”

“Well, let me think!” Josh started, suddenly yelling as if on speaker phone. His voice just a little too loud over the speakers.  

Jake looked over to you at the same point you looked at him, both of your eyes huge at the way his voice truly boomed through the speakers. 

Without a second thought, Jake reached a hand out to turn it down. The tension settled considerably as you cracked a smile at your roommate. Him turning Josh down was pretty fucking funny, you had to admit. But he just kept turning it down, Josh continuing to talk on the other end as Jake turned him completely silent. 

“Oh, now that is nice,” Jake sighed, leaning back. His fingers, still sitting lightly on the volume wheel. “Just how I like Josh. Not talking. Silent.”

You couldn’t help but burst with a laugh, slapping his hand out of the way as you continued to giggle at his action. When you did, you caught a tiny glance at his crotch, which he was trying very hard to cover. He quickly splayed the volume hand over it to hide the noticeable stretch at his zipper.

“Hey, now!” Jake quickly argued, at you making him move his hand. He sounded genuinely worried. Your eyes snapped up to his face, your cheeks red at being caught. Thankfully, though, his eyes were still on the road. Safe. 

You sighed yourself, hand still on the volume knob to hold onto some sense of stability in the otherwise stuffy car.

“I haven’t had a damn moment of peace since the moment I was conceived thanks to that curly haired motherfucker,” he sighed deeply and dramatically. A little grin tweaked his lips, revealing his playfulness. “And now you’re wanting to torture me further with his voice speaking to us over a stereo system? It’s hell. Hell, I tell you.”

“Shut the fuck up,” you snorted, a bigger laugh threatening to burst from your own little grin at his dramatics. It was pretty fucking hilarious, you couldn’t lie. But you had no clue what Josh was saying and you needed to (to slice the tension surrounding you, at the very least), so you reached forward to turn it back up.

And, of course, Josh was still talking as you turned the volume up. Not quite as loud this time, though. “. . .and Jake, you’re a fucking moron. Just because you turn me down doesn’t mean I can’t hear you! Fuckass,” Josh griped from the other end of the phone, additionally verbally tsking Jake from what you could hear. “You’re just too distracted by each other to think about sense.”

Fuck, Josh. Quit. You did not need to play into that, so instead. . . you chose the path of least resistance and defended yourself. Avoid, avoid, avoid.

“I’m sorry Jake turned you down, Josh,” you offered in response, looking over to see Jake’s devious smirk. It made your own lips raise; he really was pretty funny. “Now. Both of you quit this fucking twin banter because it is impossible to keep up with.”

Josh’s sigh from the other end rattled the speakers, causing Jake to dramatically cover the ear facing you. You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help the laugh that trickled from your lips. Still looking at your driver, you spoke to Josh again. “Let’s just keep talking about tonight’s plan before he gets the urge to shut you completely off.”

-🌼🌼🌼- 

Jake’s hair looked so fucking pretty. The length. The styled mess of natural waves, the longer it grew. It was harder everyday to not watch him. And his hair was the lethal weapon, flowing around his shoulders with every action, always pushed over just so at the front. It suited him better than any hair you’d ever seen on anyone.

And you meant that shit. Running your fingers through his long locks sounded blissful as fuck. You bit your lip as you watched the way he’d tucked it behind one ear. But, knowing you couldn’t do that. . .you decided to focus on something else. It was slightly depressing to face the reality of him not being yours, so avoiding it seemed the only key.

Your eyes scanned his form from the back, noting his outfit. Same thing he’d worn today to the doctor’s office, the white linen button-down, your favorite piece. Not anything special or out of the ordinary, but it didn’t have to be. Not if he was wearing it. When he shifted some weight onto a hip, your eyes couldn’t drift away from the way his black skinny jeans hugged his tight ass so well. 

Also, since when was it fair for a man to have such a perfectly round ass?!

Josh’s voice snapped you out of your daze momentarily. You could hear him from the living room as he and Sam argued. You assumed they were arguing over something petty, but you weren’t paying attention whatsoever. 

No, your attention had stayed primarily on Jake as he busied himself around the kitchen. He was putting finishing touches on his (apparently infamous) homemade pizzas. Per Sam’s request, that was what the menu had on it tonight.

You’d opted to stay in the kitchen with Jake as the three others found games to play and records to listen to. So, it was just the two of you, chilling in the kitchen. You had claimed to be helping. . . But you definitely weren’t. Your eyes were betraying you, distracting you with the view of your sexy ass baby daddy. 

The only thing that could distract you was the blessed heat emanating off the oven. The oven was obviously in active use, making the kitchen quite warm. And, being more and more pregnant by the day, you overheated too easily these days. It was aggravating. You’d already changed into goddamn Soffe shorts and a T-shirt (which used to fit normally, and now hugged your belly and boobs a little tighter) in the middle of winter. 

But. . . you were still too warm. Though, you refused to leave the kitchen. The view was just too lovely. So, as Jake worked on dicing some tomatoes, you moved to the kitchen window, opening it quickly to get some air circulating. But, in your rush to open it, you didn’t pay proper attention to the lavender, knocking it over in your haste. 

The precious lavender, which had only ever sat in that windowsill. Mindless, careless mistake. Clumsy fucking ass. You damn well started to tear up, more than a little distressed at the mishap. Pregnancy hormones were elevating everything and you felt like shit for destroying one of your favorite gifts ever. The most sentimental peace offering you’d ever received. 

As you fully registered the clatter, you realized Jake had as well. Coming back to the situation in front of you, you noticed him coming towards you quickly. A worried expression on his face and an offer to help, hands extended. But it was too late. You were near sobbing (again, thanks for the added dramatics, baby hormones). There was floral devastation in your wake. Nothing he could do.

Your eyes trailed to the remnants of the beautiful white pot you’d picked out together on a lazy day in early August, on your way home from the B&G. He’d picked you up. And after, exchanged the terracotta for the small, textured piece. The piece, now lying shattered below you — the pot, once intricately molded on every side to look like lavender. 

Just wonderful. To your extended dismay, you witnessed some of the ceramic scraps of the pot falling into the garbage disposal.

Your lack of care for your surroundings had caused the plant itself to fall at a very rapid speed, right into the sink. While the pot was sad, the possible destruction of the precious plant was making your heart cramp even worse in your chest. 

This little plant—it meant so much to you. For so many reasons, you cherished its presence. It reminded you of happier times, opening up to a man you’d hesitantly let in. The same man you’d ended up caring for more than so many others. . . Someone who changed your life forever – baby or no baby, he’d changed you. Helped you.  

Jake first grabbed your hands to check for cuts and scratches. He’d find none. You hadn’t touched the plant with your hands, only knocking it over with your arms. Was your body really becoming so huge that you were even more of a clutz than usual? God, you hoped not. 

Once he’d done his check on your hands, he quickly dropped them. You assumed he was might’ve been fearful of repeating the kitchen incident with the water. . . and the touching of the boobs. Not that you’d mind repeating it. But, right now, you were so emotional over the lavender pot, today’s doctor appointment, and everything else – that you feared if he touched you, you’d lean into him in ways you definitely shouldn’t. Especially with company right in the other room. 

“Well, fucking fucker,” you muttered, wiping furiously at your cheeks to keep tears away. You stared hopelessly at what was left of the pot in the sink. The plant and its soil, still clinging together in one piece despite the damage. 

Hm. . . In spite of everything, the plant clung together, despite the damage. The sight shadowed a metaphorical song in your head about your own life. Oddly familiar. For some reason, that part of it helped your blood to stop boiling. It offered some bright hope to the otherwise sad moment. The plant was okay. It had been protected. It was still salvageable. No matter what. And that was what mattered most. 

“It’ll be okay,” Jake reassured you, his hand coming up to hold your shoulder delicately. His thumb soothed tender circles into your skin through your t-shirt.

This week really had been worse than any other with getting hot easily. Which, Dr. Rose had said was normal as she’d reviewed current possible symptoms and questions with you. This week you’d just constantly been warm. Your hands found your tummy subconsciously, finding comfort in the bump.

“Yeah, it will be,” you replied quietly with a sigh. Turning slightly, you looked him directly in the eyes. It wasn’t hard, as Jake’s stare had already been focused on you. Your heart fluttered. “Thank you for that plant, by the way. I’m not sure if I have or haven’t said that yet, but still. It deserves a thank you again. . . especially now that I’ve destroyed it.”

“You haven’t destroyed it,” he said with a grin and kind eyes, as his hand dropped from your shoulder. “And no need to thank me. It was the least I could do after being such an asshole.”

“I didn’t need a gift.”

“In my opinion, it wasn’t really a gift, y/n. It was more than that,” he grinned, a hand reaching up to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear. His hand, coming to rest against your neck, making featherlight circles against the skin there. Bliss. “But whatever it was, it was the absolute bare minimum of what you deserved after my act. And in general.”

“Jake—.”

“French Lavender’s elements are essential to one’s internal peace,” he continued, going to cup your cheek. You knitted your eyebrows, confused. But, he didn’t pause, hand still holding your cheek. “It smells good. It’s a beautiful color. Survives in any indoor climate.” 

“What are you–?”

“And it has the highest vibrational frequency of any plant that’s–.” 

No. Way.

“. . .known to bring good fortune,” you finished, remembering this exact explanation. The same spot in this kitchen, but with Josh rather than Jake. 

Game night. So long ago. And somehow, you remembered it. And Jake did, too? How? He hadn’t been–. Wait. “You spied on us that night. I remember!” You laughed, stunned. “Were you listening the entire time?”

A quiet smile lit up his handsome face, the recurring mustache that was only stubble this week moving with the smirk on his lips. “I wasn’t spying. That makes me sound like a fuckin’ creep,” he chuckled under his breath.

The little grin that came with a twinkle in your eye matched his peaceful energy. You felt this moment with him. “Well. . . if the shoe fits, honey.”

Now you were the one saying honey. Today had been a day.

He was once again bringing the hand from your cheek to your neck, tenderly holding the side of it. His thumb skated behind your ear. “Not creepy. Just observant.”

“That you are,” you agreed quietly, leaning into his touch, even reaching up with your own hand to grab his wrist. You made your own little shapes against his wrist with your thumb. There was a minute or more spent just standing there, letting him hold you in the soft, serene moment. The world’s noise was muffled around you. After a little bit, your brows crinkled again as you saw his eyes travel to your lips. “How did you remember it so well?”

“Everything you’ve ever said is important enough to remember,” he plainly stated. “Simple as that.”

“I don’t know about that,” you shook your head, flushing. With the action, his hand moved. And, rather than letting it drop, you caught it in your hand on its way down. Didn’t want to lose his touch. 

Rather than freezing for a second at your touch, he didn’t make it obvious that your action had deterred him. No, his eyes still read the same and his lips still sat in a secret smile. “I do know about that, baby.”

Baby. You could crumple in tears again at the name. . . How you missed it coming from his lips, only for you. . .Again, you just stood there, appreciating the moment. It was as though nothing had changed. So, you kept talking. As if it were still summertime, the world still made special for you and him. 

“Well. . . do you agree?” You muttered, soft enough for only his ears to hear.

“About?”

“French Lavender? Lavender? Its elements?”

Jake’s eyes traveled above your head and his lips pursed, pondering. He squinted slightly in thought before coming back to you, meanwhile maneuvering the hand you’d caught so he could easily hold yours. Your fingers laced together effortlessly. 

“I’m not sure,” he started, eyes going from your hands to your belly, then your lips, your nose, and finally your line of sight. “It might have been partially the lavender that brought me peace because I truly believe in its aid to human consciousness. But. . . I think the reason I felt better was because of you. I decided to get over my shit and pursue something with you before the lavender ever touched our apartment. You made me see the light. The plant just helped you see me for me. And not the dick I’d been to you at the beginning.”

“I always knew there was more hiding underneath,” you somehow managed past your lips, stunned at his words. “Your eyes are a window, Jake. I could see you. That’s why you pissed me off. Because you wouldn’t let me see you. But—you’re right. . . the lavender helped me see you. When you gave me the plant, that’s when things started opening for me. When you started opening,” you explained, reaching your free hand up to touch his face. 

The thumb that traced his growing facial hair couldn’t be stopped. He closed his eyes at the soft action – but only briefly before he opened them to watch you as you continued to speak. “But I do understand,” you started, brows knitted. “Not trusting. Trusting someone new is hard. Trust is hard. And then I broke yours.” The following words slipped from your lips all on their own. “Worst fucking mistake.”

His hand squeezed yours, fingers still entwined. “Not broken,” he said lowly, the words honest from his chest. 

And, without taking any time to consider it, you knew you needed him to touch you in one special place. Slowly, you moved your tied hands to your tummy. You unlaced your fingers from his, and used the hand to place his open palm on your round belly. The little belly that held a part of him inside. Your breath caught in your chest as you watched tears form in his eyes as he took in the sight of his hand on what you’d made together. His lips formed a shaky smile, eyes finding yours. This time, though, his eyes were different. It was as if something had awoken inside of him and his eyes looked desperate to share it with you. 

He backed you up until your back lightly brushed the counter that faced away from the living room. It was private. You could tell he wanted privacy. To hold your belly? 

You soon realized why he wanted the little nook, away from eyes. Before you could register what was happening, his lips had connected with your neck. He lazily gave open-mouthed kisses to the same place he’d been holding earlier. You shook at the pillowy plushness of his lips on your skin again, your eyes closing on their own. The sigh that brushed past your lips caused his thumb to move against your tummy. The digit, sure in its motions as he rubbed soothingly against your belly, tracing something into it. 

You naturally rolled your neck to the side, giving him better access as he went to nip at your earlobe. His thumb repeated the pattern he’d begun. The same combination of shapes every time. What was he–?

It was difficult to pry your eyes open amidst the feeling of relief that washed over you. But, still. You did. You had to know. “Jake,” you started, his name a breath on your lips. “What are you–?”

“Jacob!” Sam squawked from the other room, with an urgency and rush of anxious energy. 

It took absolutely no time for the two of you to separate, realizing you would soon no longer be alone in the sanctuary of the kitchen. He went to lean against the same counter he’d been using to prepare the pizzas and you stayed put in your spot against the counter. He ran a hand through his hair and ran his palm over his mouth and chin, refreshing the best he could as he looked down, shaking his head. 

Then, he wiped his lips with the pad of his thumb. Your heart hurt at the motion, but you understood. You had to stop doing these things. Letting them happen. Initiating them. Both of you. Had to stop. 

Ignoring the ridiculous train of thought, you fixed yourself, too. You fluffed out your hair, laying it against your shoulders to cover your neck. The pieces you tucked behind your ears, simply to fight against the onslaught of heat you were feeling from the kitchen and now Jake. Thankfully, the open window helped bring in a cool, crisp, wintery breeze. Shit. The window. The plant. You needed to clean up your mess in the sink.

“Y/n, baby,” Jake stopped you as he saw you move, staying in his spot. You looked over at him, raising a brow in his direction. “Not the broken pieces. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

“I’ll be fine, Jake,” you argued, bending to grab a Walmart bag from the snake that hung in the cabinet below the sink. The task was harder than need be with a belly in the way, but not impossible. It took you a bit to figure out how you were going to bend. . .

Apparently noticing the struggle, Jake lunged in front of you before you could get all the way down. He grabbed a bag for you, shutting the wooden door to the cabinet before you could try to out-stubborn him by getting another bag. 

He handed you the bag, to which you rolled your eyes at him. He wasn’t looking at you, instead still watching the doorway to the kitchen before turning to place a pizza he’d just finished before your mess, in the waiting oven. 

Bag in your hand, you started collecting the ceramic shards. You were grateful they were bigger pieces, avoiding the prospect of nicking yourself. Jake did have a point at you possibly getting hurt. You’d give him that. Then, as you heard Sam’s bare feet slap against the kitchen floor, you looked over your shoulder in the direction of the sound. In your peripheral, you saw Jake’s head snap in the direction of the kitchen doorway as well.

“Jacob Thomas!” Sam screeched, his face equally serious and joking. His eyes were bright, but his tone was sharp. “I have a bone to pick, brother.”

“What, Samuel?” He asked, eyebrows bent in at the rushed, borderline accusatory tone that had come from his baby brother. “Why the full name?”

Josh and Daniel were hot on Sam’s tail, both walking into the kitchen with exhausted expressions as they followed his ass. They both seemed flustered and grumpy. . . And with the way they stayed close to him, obviously not letting him talk to Jake alone, you wondered if them being near had to do with whatever it was he had come to report to Jake.

Sam was oblivious to the exhaustion and didn’t let their presence stop his huff as he stood firm in his place. He was slightly wobbly as he grabbed onto the counter you’d just been leaning against to stay upright. “Woah,” his eyes bugged at being unsteady. His body weaved as he stopped for a second to offer one of his signature vibration-laughs at himself. “Well dammit, I think I’m drunk!”

“Oh, no, Sam. Really? Wouldn’t have guessed,” Josh chided him from the fridge, where he stood behind Sam.

Sammy’s cheeks were balled up and bright pink from the amount of alcohol he’d had to drink. He ignored Josh altogether, staring straight at Jake when he hastily addressed him. “Where is your damn phone, brother?”

Jake felt at his pockets. “Oh, fuck. In the car, I think. What’s going on? Is it mom? Dad? Veron–?”

“It’s not even close to that serious, Jake,” Josh chimed in, trying to soften Sam’s theatrics. 

“Josh. Shut up,” Sam instructed, still looking at Jake. “And, Jake, if you must know, Maya called. That’s what. Perfect, beautiful, gorgeous goddess Maya. She told me she’d reached out earlier around the end of the appointment. Told me you didn’t answer then either,” Sam loosely informed Jake, standing a bit wobbly, yet effortlessly sassy with a hand on one hip. 

He seemed genuinely frustrated with Jake’s lack of communication before he took a swig from the red solo cup in his other hand. The one sip took long enough that the rest of you were exchanging looks at Sam’s behavior. Your expressions were all very similar: wide eyes, squiggled brows, and shaky grins that switched to pursed lips off and on. He was on his way to being completely gone and it was only 6 pm. All of you, seeming equal parts concerned and amused. 

The twins seemed irritated. Josh, concerned, but more frustrated. Jake, annoyed with Sam’s spiel. Neither one, here for Sam’s antics and it was clear as day.

When the youngest brother finished his long sip, his wide eyes were back on his brother, no longer judgemental. A miracle. Apparently tonight, all it took was a quick drink to flip the switch. “She was just really excited to hear about the appointment. Wanted to know how it went. Curious over the gender.”

“Oh,” Jake plainly responded. He seemed unbothered. It made you pause, but he kept talking before you could question it. “Well, we’re not telling the gender yet. She should understand that. It’s common sense,” he explained, brushing some hair behind his ear, his jawline exquisitely accentuated with the motion. “And I can’t help that I forgot my phone in the car. Shit happens. We used it for directions to and from the clinic and my mind was in other places when we got home.”

Your heart skipped a beat. You appreciated how firm he’d been about the gender not being revealed to anyone but the two of you. That was hot. And, he still wasn’t jumping to go get his phone or anything. 

“Well, whatever,” Sam rolled his eyes dramatically, snorting. “I told her to bring her sweet little ass over here and join the party!” Sam exclaimed, Jake scoffed at his brother, shaking his head. His eyebrows settled momentarily, giving the younger brother slightly more attention. “I told her you’d mentioned it to me. That you wanted her here.”

And, Jake’s expression was stern once more. “I didn’t ever mention it, Sam,” Jake griped back.

“I know, I know. But I’m sure you were going to,” Sammy spouted back like a noncompliant child. “Because you loooove her, Jake. I’m sure you were going to invite your girlfriend to this. Just be glad you have a good one, Jake.” He cracked the ‘k’ sound in Jake’s name, sticking his lip out. “Feel like I have to appreciate her for you sometimes. You don’t understand what you hav–.”

“I understand how incredible she is,” Jake interrupted, cutting the younger brother off. He seemed aggravated, but his words still hit your heart unpleasantly. He wouldn’t have said it if he didn’t mean it. He thought she was incredible. “Thank you for inviting her, Sam,” Jake finished, seeming done with the conversation entirely. 

Was he actually thankful she was coming? You couldn’t tell. Either way, your stomach felt as though it had fallen to the bottoms of your feet. The heaviness at the idea of Maya being with all of you tonight was making you feel sick. Your eyes snapped for a glimpse over to Jake, and he was doing the same towards you at the exact same moment. You’d felt him looking at you, perhaps gauging your reaction. But, even though you were feeling it all, you were not showing a whole lot. You were working on it. Every single day, you worked on not letting it show how much you despised her presence.

“She’s on her way,” Sam cut in again. Your ears were ringing.

 But before Jake could say anything, Josh hopped in. “Y/n. How about you invite that guy over? The one from your classes? Heard you’ve been hanging out with him. . .”

You really didn’t want this night to turn into anything. Didn’t want Maya here. Definitely didn’t want Theo here. And you already knew you would be putting on some sort of show if Theo were to show up. You’d try to force things. For your experiment.

Tonight, though, you didn’t feel like forcing anything. Not after such a special appointment like today’s. Not after what had just happened in the kitchen, only moments ago. You wanted time with your friends after an incredibly special day spent with Jake. All you’d wanted was a night with the guys. Just like it had been before. You wanted a comfortable, calming evening.

The more you’d thought about it, it’d honestly seemed like perfect timing when Josh had called earlier. A wondrous cherry on top of a beautiful day. God, why had Sam invited her over? You knew it was most likely because of his drunkenness. But. . . why did he have to be so drunk at 6 pm? You still didn’t know why his week had been shit.

Wait. Hold up. Josh had brought Theo up as a possible guest. How did he–? How did Josh know about your current situation with Theo? You hadn’t talked to him about. . . Oh. 

You peeked over at Jake, who was suddenly turning in the complete opposite direction of you. HIs back to all of you as he went back to the pizza. He had to be to blame. Right? Someone had been complaining to his twin. You were sure of it. How else would Josh know you’d been talking to Theo? And why did Jake care about it so much? When he had his girlfriend, who was seemingly perfect? What the two of you had. . . it wasn’t solid anymore – had it ever been? And what he had with her was concrete.

Did Jake really care so much about Theo as to tell Josh? You’d meant what you told him earlier: he shouldn’t care. He should not care. There was only one girl he needed to care about (well, not including the one in your belly) and he was dating her. Maya. Not you. Damn it all to fuck. You were wired to hell over all of it. And Maya was on her damn way. 

The reason it sucked the most was because it was you getting slapped in the face with reality again. All it did was remind you that Jake was not yours. You’d have to spend all night watching them. Real enjoyable.

Josh’s voice pulled you back. “You’ve been seeing him, why not invite him?”

You know. . . He was right. Why the fuck not? As much as you did not want all of the extra people over, you couldn’t stand the thought of watching Jake and Maya being all cuddly while you sat miserably single and pregnant with his baby all night. It was the perfect opportunity to get your mind off of Jake. Even after a perfect day like today. But, today. . . it wasn’t real. It was just a bunch of emotions stacked on one special day about the baby. Not you and Jake. Today was a fairytale. 

Yet, even as you tried to delegitimize it all, your neck burned with the shape of his lips. You wanted more. But more wasn’t yours to have.

All this did was remind you. It reminded you that you still needed to test your theory of falling for another guy to prove something to yourself and to Jake. You didn’t need Jake to be happy. Truly. Seven months ago, you hadn’t needed him. You could get back to that. He was the father of your child. Nothing more.

You could’ve laughed at that fucking lie. Nothing more. A complete falsity, that statement.

You didn’t laugh about it, though. No, instead, you looked at Josh straight on. Your lips quirked the best they could with a plain smirk, “I will, actually. Thanks for thinking of that, Joshy.”

“Well, yeah. You deserve–.”

“You deserve to get your freak on, y/n!” Sam cheered, bringing up his red solo cup filled with God knew what. “All of those pent up baby hormones. I’ve heard about those and goddamn, Dragon. I can not imagine how you’re doing it while being so sexy and single as a pring—!”

“None of that was even remotely close to what I was going to say, Samuel,” Josh cut him off, motioning at him blatantly to zip his mouth. His hand cut a firm line in the air, still as could be. He was serious. Josh’s face was stone still and his mouth was in a straight line, completely void of laughter. He was very angry with Sam for opening his mouth.  You could tell that much. 

“Josh, it’s fine–,” you attempted, getting cut off by the drunk and rambling baby brother.

“Well who cares. Because I’m drunk,” Sam seemed to reason, with nobody and everybody all at once. He looked over at his curly-haired brother, who was raising a frustrated brow in Sam’s direction. “Josh, I’m going to put some music on the record player. If you wanna beat me to it, I suggest you–.”

And, it seemed, Josh was suddenly better again at the mention of music. It took him no time to sprint out of the kitchen, brushing past Sam. You watched Sam laze about after Josh. And you knew Josh was sure to get his first pick. Sam followed slowly out with a dramatic wave, foot over foot. His drink, sloshing over the cup as he simultaneously took a drink.

Then, he was gone. Ruckus over. For now.

“Holy fuck. He is in for a long ass night, huh?” Danny commented, still leaning against the frame of the kitchen’s entry. He’d barely said a word before, keeping a safe place at the back. 

You smiled over at the tall man, feeling sympathy for Sammy and his friend who was trailing behind, cleaning up his messes. Right before you could ask why Sammy was so drunk, Jake started talking.

“Damn fuckin’ straight,” Jake agreed, making your head turn in his direction. He was creating the next pie with a variety of vegetables, with his back turned to you. “Ironically enough, I’m making this damn veggie pizza for him as we speak. Sure fuckin’ hope he’s not so wasted he can’t enjoy it. Working my ass off.”

“He will definitely enjoy it. Promise you, dude. Your pizzas are unrivaled,” Danny reassured.

Unrivaled. You were suddenly intrigued, remembering you’d never tried Jake’s pizzas. In the past, whenever pizza was chosen as the meal for you and Jake, it had only ever been ordered. Did he make pizza for Maya all of the time? Because she was special? Or did he order pizza with her too? Why did it matter?

“Why’s he drinking so much anyway?” You piped up, digging yourself out of the slump your mind was creating. Leaning a hip against the fridge diagonal from the kitchen entryway Danny stood in, you crossed your arms at your chest. 

“I mean, I know it’s fun to just get drunk sometimes. I get it. I’ve done that before. But. . . he seemed a little emotional when he started talking about relationships.” You stopped talking to look down and pick at your nails. The feeling of being a bad friend to Sam was making your heart sink. You were sad that you had no clue what was going on in his life. You didn’t know what was going on in anyone’s lives. 

You felt really selfish. Selfish. Fuck. The word came flashing back through foggy memories, hearing it big, loud, and without any warning. Only hearing it in your mom’s voice. . . Way deep down in your chest you felt how she’d once said it. You remembered the way tears would gather in your throat, too scared to cry. You were made to feel selfish at every turn as a child — even the act of crying. Looking back now, that was fucking ridiculous. 

But your mom was always the first to comment on your selfishness. She’d remind you how selfish you were at every turn — how much of an inconvenience you’d been to her. The words made your gut twist with unknown memories attached to them. You couldn’t locate those memories right now and you were glad you couldn't. Even without knowing what they were specifically, they frightened you. Terrified you. 

Veering away from the unknown, pitch black trenches of memories, you thought back on your mom. How she always told you that everything you did for others was only going to serve you in the long run anyway. She never let you believe for a second that you thought of anyone but yourself. 

And how you’d acted after she left? Towards Elsie? Maybe she’d had a point all of those years ago. Was there any good in you? You felt that term at the pit of your stomach now, weighing you to the fridge. Selfish.

Back to the subject, y/n. Come on, girl. Not the time.

“I’m kind of out of the loop these days,” you surmised, chewing the inside of your cheek with a frown.

“Sammy was actually talking to a girl. Got pretty serious for a few months there. Same chick from the AirBnb, actually. You guys met her. A little off and on for a bit, but they kept in contact long enough. So, for the past few months or so, it’s been everyday,” Danny’s eyes widened as he blew out a breath, taking a sip from the beer bottle he’d been nursing since he got to the apartment. “Been spending all of their time together. It’s been everything to him. They’ve been in each other’s beds almost every night, talking about pets and Christmas family gatherings but. . . She texted him last night with this long winded excuse as to why she couldn’t be with Sam because she had to go back to her boyfriend of like ten years that she’d broken up with right before Sammy,” Danny swiped a hand over his forehead, shaking his head side to side. His long black hair, waving around him with the motion. “So. . . She basically used Sam as a rebound and it’s hitting him in the heart.”

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” you breathed, repulsed on Sammy’s behalf. He was such a sensitive and carefree guy and this girl had used that. . . Was that what you did with Jake? Did you use him too frequently? Still?

God. Stop it, y/n!

“Yeah . . . He was a ball on Josh’s bed last night, only wanting his big brother to talk him down from it. He really liked her. Probably actually loved her. You know how much Sam feels for others.”

“Feels everything,” Jake noted, sprinkling some seasonings on the pizza in front of him. “Maybe it’s a genetic trait ‘cause I’m right there with him.” 

Danny huffed a laugh, raising a brow at that. He took another healthy swig. “Maybe.”

And then Sam was calling Danny’s name from the living room, begging for ‘back-up’ against the ‘Evil Elf.’ You couldn’t help but snort at the term Evil Elf. You heard Josh raise his voice at Sam’s insulting nickname. But your snort quickly turned into a belly laugh as you heard him repeatedly spouting it at Josh in response. Knowing him, he was probably flicking Josh’s forehead or some shit to emphasize it. 

Damn. . . He was bound to be the fucking enter-tain-ment for the night. You hoped he would be a good thought diverter. 

“You better help Josh in Sam’s attack against him,” Jake encouraged Danny. “I would, but. . .,” Jake motioned at the pizza he was preparing as he finally turned. “I’m on the last one.”

When you caught a glimpse of his face, you saw some of his own amusement at the ordeal. His teeth weren’t showing, but his dimples were present in his cheeks as he gave Danny a loose grin. 

“No, I got it, dude,” Danny responded without another thought on the matter. “You’re busy.”

And, within seconds, Daniel was gone. Leaving you alone with Jake. Jake, who was back to looking at his damn pizza. His strong back, facing you. Those broad shoulders, mocking you. 

You decided not to follow Danny, wanting to stay with Jake as long as you could. Even if he wouldn’t look at you, his presence comforted you. Though, not wanting to be completely distracted by his aura, you tried to busy yourself with an activity of your own. 

Oh! You could make dessert! 

Quickly checking the built-in pantry to the right of the fridge, you saw some brownie mix and a box of yellow cake mix sitting in the baking goods section of a shelf. And without any thought or question, brownies won the battle of what sounded most delicious. 

Brownies suddenly sounded positively scrumptious to you. So, reaching forward, you grabbed them out and placed them on the island. When you turned to place them there, Jake still had his back turned to you. Goddamn. He was doing a stand-up job at ignoring you completely. The silence between you was deafening.

You didn’t even acknowledge him. This would be good. It would be good to ignore him. You just went about your business getting all of the ingredients out and your hand mixer. . . but you needed a bowl. 

When you went to grab one, you noticed the mixing bowls were just a tad bit too high for you to reach. And even though Jake wasn’t the tallest man ever, he was still taller than you. He would be able to get what you needed for you. Perfect.

Ugh! No! The whole point of busying yourself was to ignore him!

Not wanting to give in to the urge to ask him for help, you tried your damn best to just do it yourself. Standing on your tiptoes, you stretched a hand way up for that one clear mixing bowl you always used when you baked. . . So close, yet just out of your reach. A lot like someone–.

“Dammit, y/n, let me get it.” His beautifully raspy voice was suddenly in your ear, but he sounded a little perturbed. All the sound did was make your cheeks grow warm and pink. “Just ask for help.”

He was right behind you, his front side completely pressed to your backside, making you dizzy. And as he placed one hand on your hip to balance himself, you thought you were going to buckle immediately. The feeling of his searing hot hold on the bit of skin at your hip, peeking out from your t-shirt, made you shiver.

His fingers were so close to the bump, but not quite touching it. As he pushed himself into you a bit further, you felt him against your ass, right through the thin material of your black Soffe shorts. He wasn’t completely hard. Not yet. But he would get there before too long if this continued like it had before Sam’s intrusion. You knew him. 

Back in the moment, you noticed his other hand reaching up for the bowl. And, of course, he grabbed it with no problem at all, being tall enough to grab the dish that had been too difficult a job for you. Ugh. You needed him. Even if it were just for a fucking dish. 

When he placed the bowl on the counter, you reached to touch the bowl at the same moment he went to move his hand. And for a brief bit of time, your hands grazed each other. It happened for long enough that you both stilled your hands, appreciating the feeling. . .

He didn’t move from his spot behind you. 

He laid his palm flat on the counter, grounded himself. Boxed you in with his body — the sandalwood, vanilla, and suede in his cologne made your head swirl. You gripped the bowl tighter, enjoying the fact that he’d stayed behind you, but wanting more. His hot breath continued to bathe your already warm neck in the most delicious wisps of air. Naturally, you leaned into him just the slightest bit. Couldn’t help it.

Once more, his enticingly gravelly voice was in your ear. “Was Sam right?”

You turned your head to speak to him more directly, but kept your eyes downcast to maintain some sense of stability. Lowly, you questioned him right back. “Was he right about what?” 

“Are you going to mess around with Theo?” He hushed, breath fanning over your cheek. He spoke Theo’s name as if it were laced with poison. “You wanna take out your baby hormones on him?”

“That’s not your business, Jake,” you breathed back, shakily taking in some air to fill your tight lungs. You moved your hand on his, watching the movement. You gently traced your fingertips down his long digits. His strong hand fidgeted, flexing at the action. Slowly, you went to rest your palm on the top of his hand. 

But when you went to move your hand, he stopped you. His hand quickly turned the other way around to grab yours in a sure grip — seamlessly lacing your fingers. 

“Do you really want him?” he posed the question heatedly, placing a breath of a kiss on your temple, lips brushing your skin. 

“I don’t fucking know, Jake,” you hissed under your breath, pushing your ass into him as he brushed your hair to the side, once again pressing his lips to the column of your neck. 

Before you could think of another thing, he was spinning you around, your back smoothly pressing to the side of the fridge nearest to you. Your breath was heavy enough to emit a gasp at the motion. Just out of view from the guys, Jake kept you hidden, pulling you away from the fridge just a bit and closer to him.

His grasp on your hand let up a little, his palm pressing against the small of your back the best it could with your hand in the way. At the same time, he pressed his hips into yours, showing his reaction to you. Oh.

He kept hold of your hand at your lower back, his arm wrapped close around you. His strength held you in a secure grip, making you feel so safe and at home. . . Just like the lavender field. . . 

Your stomach was pressed into his, there was a sliver of skin where your belly was exposed at the hem of your t-shirt. Your warm skin brushed up against the buttons of his shirt and the soft material. The cottony linen of it felt like a dream against your skin, so close to him. And, wrapping one hand at the curve between your neck and the base of your skull, his soft lips made home on your neck, placing wet kiss after wet kiss on the skin there. His tongue, peeking out only slightly to touch you with every nip from his lips.

He used his hold to position your neck just right, to get the angle he wanted. Your body ignited with heat and desire for him. The way your head fell back and your neck loosened with the tiniest sigh from your lips was unavoidable.

“You keep doing this to me, baby,” he groaned against your neck. Slowly, he lifted his mouth from you, his tongue had been so close to running over your pulse.

But he’d stopped.

“Doing what to you, Jacob?” You grit back, pulling your head up lazily to stare at him. There was fire in your eyes as you peeked up at him from under your lashes. Your chest lifted in heavy breaths.

“I know it’s wrong, but I can’t help but look at you and— and. . .,” he trailed off, gently moving his hand to run a thumb over your cheekbone. His shoulders, sturdy, and curved in to keep you to himself. “I just look at you and want to bend you over and remind you that you can do better than him.”

Your thighs squeezed together, you were aching for him to do what he described. . . Yet, as much as his words made you eager to do just what he wanted in the middle of this kitchen right this second. . . he’d said something you both needed to remember. It was wrong. Though, it was odd. . . Just as much as it felt foolishly wrong, it felt completely right.

But, right now, the wrong was what hung over your shoulders. The guys could walk in at any moment. Maya could arrive (thanks to Sam’s lovely invite) and catch you both. Wrapped up in each other. Goddammit.

“Jake,” you sighed, sadly and resolved to the decision to break up whatever was going on at the moment. “We shouldn’t– we shouldn’t be doing this. We aren’t together. This is–. You have Maya and I have to. . :,” you trailed off, unable to finish.

He didn’t take his eyes from you for several seconds, studying your face. You hadn’t moved. You didn’t want to be the first one to move. His eyebrows drew together in deep concentration. His amber-brown irises showed that he understood when he nodded hesitantly, backing away. You immediately missed the contact. His shoulders were tense and bunched up before he stood up straighter to roll them out. 

But, you could tell how upset it made him, eyes downcast until he was leaning against the island across from you, putting his hands out to grab hold of it when he was near enough. Across from you, he looked up at you with conflict ghosting over his features. He understood the levity of the situations you kept putting yourselves in, but what he understood about it made him angry. Or, at least you assumed. You’d spent several months observing every little (and big) emotion Jake felt, you had a pretty good inclination on how well you could read the man. Most times.

Besides, you felt the same exact way, so you could sense it billowing off of him in waves. 

“I know,” he sighed, his body rigid and eyes emptier than they’d been moments before. He slapped on a smile that stretched a little too tight across his lips. “Just–go rest. I need to wait in here for the pizzas to finish.”

“But I need to make the brown–.”

“I will make them.”

“Jake–.”

“Do you want to make them?”

“Yes, I want to eat some, so—.”

“But did you truly want to make them, or can you just let me do that for you?”

You stood there, at a loss over much more than the brownies. Without any other idea of how to respond, you just placed your hands on your hips, shrugging. In the end, preparing and baking them had just been a distraction.

If you weren’t going to allow yourself to be in the same room as Jake, all you really wanted to do was sit down and rest your feet after the long day. But damn. . .you’d made yourself want those brownies. . . The picture on the box was calling your name. . .

Jake huffed the smallest laugh, but his face was still void of any one emotion.“I know you don’t want to make them, but you want to eat them. Let me make them for you.”

You almost agreed. But, you looked over to the sink. You hadn’t finished with the lavender. You’d gotten distracted.

“The plant. I need to put it in a new–.”

“I’ll get it,” Jake said, his eyes the slightest bit brighter, even though his mouth still held a smile that didn’t look completely real. “You need to sit down. It’s been a long day. Go talk to my brothers or something. I’m sure you’d love to do that and they fucking love you, so.”

Well, it was settled, then. He was correct in all of that.

“And call your boyfriend,” he suddenly said, turning his back to you, tone too friendly. It sounded as though he was suddenly okay with Theo. And you knew damn better than that. 

But you couldn’t question his sudden change in attitude with his back turned to you once again. And why was his sudden shift in attitude pissing you the hell off? Stupid ass shit. It shouldn’t even matter — it just threw you for a loop. You were still so angry and he was just. . . Fine? Not fair.

Ugh. If anything, it should have made you glad that he wasn’t being so hostile about Theo. . . But instead, you missed the way he inflamed at the mention of your study buddy. You missed the heat from moments ago.

You clenched your fists at your hips, digging into the flesh before you decided to pull down your shirt a little to cover your whole tummy. Even if it was only a couple inches of skin, it made you feel exposed and you were not in the mood anymore. 

To test him just a little, you fought back. “He’s not my–.”

“Well, he’s on his way to being it, so might as well start calling him that,” he responded, a little sharper. His broad back still to you, as he went about grabbing the rest of the ingredients.

You stood there for a moment, contemplating what to say – if you should say anything. But when he avoided any and all eye contact, you decided to just leave the room. He was a pro at pissing you the fuck off. And you didn’t want to argue with him over something so stupid and trivial. 

You didn’t make a sound as you turned on your heel and made your way to the living room to be with the boys. Sam, and his loud signature cackle, bouncing off of the living room walls to greet you.

As soon as your ass hit the couch cushion, you were texting Theo. Because, well. . . fuck Jake. Suddenly, you were very curious to see how Jake might react to having him around all night.

Theo took almost no time to respond. 

Theo, 6:23 p.m.: Sure thing! I’ll be there :) Thanks for thinking of me, beautiful!

The term of endearment made your heart leap in your chest, your cheeks blushing as a little grin fit to your lips. Beautiful. Every girl liked being called beautiful by a cute guy. You might as well fucking enjoy it. He was coming for you tonight. Only you. No one else. 

He only wanted you. You were special to Theo. Jake couldn’t say that. There was at least one woman more important than you and he made that clear by continuing to be with her. And, if you were being honest with yourself, you were relieved for it. . .

In your heart, you knew that your graveyard of a past was not something he was responsible for. He didn’t need to be the one picking up the pieces. You’d rather him be with a woman who brought him nothing but joy. You brought doom and destruction. Right? You always had.

You were momentarily distracted as you watched Sam uselessly trying to put his hair in a high bun. Danny was rolling his eyes and soon coming to his rescue. He really was such a good friend. Everyone needed a Daniel Wagner in their life.

Then, as you were texting Theo back with a slightly flirty text, you wondered what the night might entail for you. Playing this damn game was ridiculous and petty, but you had a point to prove. To Jake and to yourself. You didn’t need him. 

Who knew if he cared to realize it. . . But you did. In all reality, you knew Jake really didn’t even care that much. It was more about the baby than you anyway, you were sure of it. So, you contemplated. 

Should you take it a step further? Force yourself out of Jake Mode? You hadn’t been with anyone else for a long-ass time. . . It could be really good for you. Even if it felt a little strange doing that with someone else while Jake’s baby moved around (apparently quite a bit) inside your belly. You couldn’t feel her yet, but Dr. Rose had assured you that it would be coming sooner than later. 

What would it be like when you could feel her? Would that make sex with someone else even more awkward? 

You rolled your eyes at that thought. Duh. It would be like your baby giving you a piece of her mind for giving anyone but her Daddy attention. Well, too bad her Daddy wanted to give someone else attention. And too bad you were too fucked up to give yourself to her Daddy. 

Damn, even though you’d just been pissed at Jake, referring to him as Daddy in your head was doing something to you. Something Jake couldn’t be the one to help you with. Because you were done with the foolish moments.

You knew you’d end up needing help alleviating some of that pent up tension. All of the. . . moments with Jake recently weren’t doing your over-excited sex drive and hormones any good. You were on the verge of going absolutely ballistic if you didn’t do something to ease the pent up energy.

And you were not about to give Jake the idea that he would be the one to help (as much as you wanted it). Not anymore would you give that idea to him. Not when he was so quick to turn you on and just as soon turn his back. 

Fuck that.

-🌼🌼🌼- 

“I call the hard liquor!” Sam excitedly declared as he started fast walking towards the kitchen. 

“Dear God,” Josh grumbled, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his thumb and pointer. “Please, God no.”

“Um, absolutely not,” Danny replied, already following closely behind. 

Theo quickly got up to follow the other two, acting like he was somehow part of the inside joke. It was awkward to watch, but you were glad he was up and away from you for a little bit. His arm had been around you all night and it had been suffocating the air around you. Claustrophobia was definitely real. After a few seconds of feeling the relief, it dawned on you what Sammy had said. Liquor. You Laugh, You Drink. This was a drinking game. Duh.

“Fuuuck,” you groaned. For some reason, you’d totally forgotten about the whole drinking part of the game. Even though it was literally part of the title, you’d just skimmed over it. Pregnancy brain.

“What, love?” Josh inquired, brows knit in concern. “You okay?”

“Yes,” you drew out the word with a sad smile and a shake of your head. “I just remembered it’s a drinking game.”

“Oh no,” Maya chimed in, her naturally whiny voice getting right under your skin. It was obvious she was trying too hard to act like she cared.

She sounds like a goddamn Kardashian, you thought with an internal roll of your eyes. 

“Oh, y/n. Fuck. Do we need to find a different game?” Josh wondered aloud, doe-eyed and totally willing to uproot the one game Sam wanted to play. It was Sam’s night and you weren’t about to rain on his already-depressing parade. “We can total–.”

“No, Joshy,” you swatted the idea away with a wave of your hand. And with a hand to your belly, you leaned back, a wider grin gracing your lips. “I’ll just sit here and watch. It’ll be just as fun.”

“No it won’t,” Josh argued, shaking his head. “I want you to participate. Let me think. . .,” He sat there for a second, on the ground, legs crossed in front of him. He had his thinking face on as he tapped a finger to his chin. His eyes lit up after a few seconds, apparently coming up with something. “How about none of us drink and we just get out if we laugh?”

“The drinking adds to the hilarity of the game,” you replied. “Seriously, Josh. It’s o–.”

“How about. . .,” Jake suddenly chimed in to your left, having taken up the arm chair with Maya. Your skin heated at hearing his voice. You hadn’t looked his way since he’d come to sit in the living room an hour or so ago.

You’d been rude enough to not even say thank you for the delicious pizza you’d all devoured. Or the unbelievable brownies that he’d ended up baking for you, swirling caramel in with them and everything. He’d done more than he had to, but you didn’t want to think about it. But, you decided to finally show him a little respect by turning your head in the direction of his voice. 

“How about I don’t drink either and you and I can just play the game by getting out if we laugh,” he paused, probably assuming you’d turn all the way to look at him better in response. You didn’t. “Um. . . Everyone else can drink. It’ll still be funny that way and we don’t have to break Sammy’s heart by taking away the drinking.”

Why was he being so sweet? You hated how kind he could be. It did your heart very little good.

“Jake, no. Don’t do that. I’ll be–,” you began, finally letting your eyes flit over to him. But, he wasn’t looking at you. No, he was watching Josh who’d started clapping. 

Apparently Josh liked the idea. “Great thinking, Jacob!” Josh applauded him from his spot on the floor, across from the three of you. The curly headed twin languidly rose from his spot next to the record player, brushing his khaki pants before pointing towards the kitchen. “If that’s all settled, I’m going to grab a White Claw and assist Daniel in herding Sam back in here.”

Without any time to protest and Josh already on his way to the kitchen, you were out-voted. No drinking for you or Jake, apparently. 

“Well. . .,” Maya dragged in her valley-girl twang, placing a hand on Jake’s arm that you immediately turned your head at seeing. “I won’t drink if you don’t, babe.” 

Your stomach lurched at her acting like she could save the day by not making Jake do something alone with the pregnant lady.

“No. . . it’s okay,” Jake said in return, trying to use a honeyed little voice to reassure her. 

You could’ve puked on the spot. 

“I don’t want you to feel alone, though,” the gorgeous dark-haired woman offered. You were glad you’d been avoiding looking at them all night. You’d watched her walk in and claim the chair. Your chair. Aaand that had been enough. You hated watching her and Jake and it was honestly aggravating how perfect she was in her statuesque beauty. 

“I won’t be,” he reminded her in the same sugary tone. “Y/n isn’t drinking either.”

There was a pause where it seemed like Maya was weighing whether or not that was a valid response. You decided it didn’t even fucking matter to you what she thought. And at T he perfect time, you heard Stevie approach your legs with a meow.  So, you took advantage of her seeking you out and lifted her to sit in your lap. Of course, the cat relaxed easily against your crossed legs (because, thankfully, you could still do that – well, barely). 

But when you heard a hushed voice coming from Maya and Jake’s direction, you obviously had to peek over. Were they whispering about you? 

When you looked their way, you realized it was only Maya doing the whispering. Jake sat there, leaned forward towards you, on the ottoman. His hands, clasped and elbows sitting on his thighs. His eyes were cast down as she said whatever she was saying in his ear, his brows scrunched as if thinking critically over what she was saying.

You squinted at her with her mouth so close to his ear, her hair draped over her shoulder, body turned almost entirely towards him as she edged closer to him from her spot in the armchair. You could see her incredible cleavage from this vantage point. God. As you further observed, you noticed her hand was up to cover her mouth, too. Little fucking secret keeper. This was your fucking apartment – if the bitch had something to say, she needed to say it out loud. 

So, with a clenched jaw and slanted eyes, you addressed it. “You know, May–.”

“It’s fine, babe,” Jake spit out before you could say anything, his eyes flicking over to yours as if to say ‘It’s not worth it.’ “I don’t care that much. You have fun. I promise I’ll still have fun, too. Have you met my brothers? They don’t need alcohol to act like idiots. Y/n and I will get to stay in longer anyway. . . No one will even notice if we laugh,” he tried to joke.

Maya’s eyes were downcast as she rubbed Jake’s arm, squeezing his bicep. You watched her finally come over to him and drape herself over his lap, slowly going to get up for alcohol. One ass cheek sat on the ottoman next to him, and the other practically on top of his lap as she went to get up. But, before she could, you watched in horror as she rubbed salt in the wound. She cupped both hands around his cheeks and brought him over to her. And, sitting there, still petting Stevie, you got to gloomily witness Maya wrapping her lips around his. It was in the most sultry manner (or was that just her?) – laying her claim on the man whose child you held inside of you. 

Being the person on the opposite side of this made you want to fucking puke. His eyes, closing in appreciation of the kiss was icing on the damn cake. And the way his line of sight found you mid-kiss and clung to you until the end of the mini makeout . . . That was hell. The deepest, most fiery crevice of hell.

But, you didn’t fail to notice. . . he hadn’t put his hands on her during whatever that had been.

And he went to look at his phone as she left, settling back in the arm chair. He hadn’t even cared to watch her curvaceous body leave the room.

Strange.

-🌼🌼🌼- 

The giggle that erupted from Josh as he drew his card was so loud, you were certain the neighbors could hear as it echoed. He’d knocked out more than a couple of White Claws — and drank them much faster than he should have. He shook his head, full head of curls bouncing around. His hand cupped his mouth to muffle yet another boisterous laugh as he read again to himself.

“Elmo can’t believe this!” He exclaimed, chuckling afterwards as the rest of you shared tiny grins and wide eyes. Was he imitating a Sesame Street character?

And, when he started singing Elmo’s World, your theory was confirmed. You had to admit it was. . . alarming how perfectly he mimicked the red, furry character. Almost as if the puppet lived inside of him.

The theme song clashed horribly with the Earth, Wind, and Fire record Josh had chosen. You squinted at your curly haired friend, cringing just a bit at whatever he was doing. But with another impossibly high note of the song, the room broke out in snorts and snickers. All of you, trying to hide your laughter. Your cringing loosened with your body at the funniness of Josh’s theatrics.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Sam snarked, confused and clearly lacking any patience with his brother's antics. 

The rest of you were caught in a fit of giggles as Josh continued to say things as Elmo, in third person and everything. Though you were also confused as hell, you were equally impressed by his spot-on impersonation. The youngest brother leaned forward to try to nab the card from Josh, but Josh hastily brought his hand back to himself.

“My card, Sam!” Josh shouted, slapping his younger brother's hand away, still wheezy laughing. Then, he shook his head, pretending to dust off the front of the card. “What an imbecile,” he mumbled, a bit more serious to imply his annoyance with Sam.

The roll of Sam’s eyes was the most dramatic display of exasperation you’d ever seen from him, and that was certainly saying something. You tried so hard to hold back your laughter, fearful that any more pressure on your tummy would cause you to pee right on the spot. (Thanks, pregnancy.) 

“Then shut the hell up and read it,” Sam spat, impatiently waiting to move along with the game.  

“Okay, okay,” Josh started, holding his card in front of his face, pretending to adjust the invisible monocle that was (not) sitting over his left eye for an added dramatic effect. “You’re a tickle me Elmo,” he cleared his throat, attempting to hold whatever his persona was, but cracking yet another laugh after he read the words aloud. “. . . And you insist that the target tickle you, and if they do, get furious at them.” 

The room resounded with a collective “Oh!” once you all discovered the true reasoning behind his little (and terrifyingly accurate) impression. 

He held the card down just enough that his eyes peeked over the cardstock, his right eyebrow cocked as his eyes flitted around the room. “Who shall be my playmate?” He joked as he placed his hand on the bottle, spinning it with a graceful tap, just enough to land on the person sitting right beside him: Samuel.

“That’s not fair!” Sam protested, still drunk, but thankfully having been cut off from the hard stuff as soon as he’d tried to claim it at the beginning of the game. “You didn’t spin hard enough, Joshua! Not a fair spin. Do it again.”

“The bottle chooses who it chooses, brother,” Jake called from his spot, where you refused to look. 

You just settled back into Theo’s arm that was slung across the back of the couch, trying your best to be comfortable. Fake it till you make it. And when Sam straight up pouted for thirty seconds straight, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. 

“Samuel Francis,” you said his name flatly. “Just play the goddamn card with Josh. Jesus. There is definitely worse. You’re just lucky he’s not–.”

“Naming every part of my body while touching it,” Sam interrupted, locking eyes with you as he raised a brow. A mischievous grin rising under his mustache.

And as your mind rushed with the memory, you couldn’t stop your eyes from flicking to Josh’s. Of course, he was already looking at you. He knew now was not the time. You knew he knew, no matter how much he’d had to drink. And from your peripheral, you saw Danny looking at you as well. And when you looked over towards him, he was giving you a look that said ‘don’t listen to him’, which you waved off with a swat of your hand in the air and a shaky smile. 

Don’t think about it, y/n, your inner voice counseled you. Sam’s just drunk and doesn’t hold enough stock in what he’s saying for you to take it personally. Just ignore him.

“Sam.” You heard Jake sternly say his name, close to you from where he sat snugly in the armchair to your left. The seriousness in his tone made you freeze.

And this time when he spoke, you let yourself look at him. Instantly, you regretted it, seeing his arm around Maya’s shoulders. Her face, pink from how much she’d had to drink. Bitch liked to fucking laugh, apparently. 

But you just focused on how his eyes found yours for a solid ten seconds, full of fire and a sort of protection. Your heart leapt in your chest at the same time he trained his eyes, once again, on Sam. “Fuck right off and go tickle Josh,” he grit at his younger brother, eyebrows set in a straight line. “Suck it the hell up.”

-🌼🌼🌼- 

The night continued on after Sam tickled Josh’s (very creepy) version of Elmo.

After that one, you got to witness a few more hilarious rounds. You’d belly laughed at Sam imitating a bird and pecking endlessly at Josh with his nose. The way your sides hurt when Danny got to be Nicholas Cage while searching for the Declaration of Independence (Jake had been the Declaration of Independence) was incomparable. And you tried hard to not cringe when Theo had been Mickey Mouse going through withdrawals and looking for drugs that his target had (that lucky target had been Sam, once again).

Thankfully, you’d had to pee at the perfect time and got to skip your turn. But when you came back, it was Jake’s turn. It seemed as though they’d waited on you. He had just picked his card as you worked to make yourself comfortable on the couch. As comfortable as you could be, at least. It took you a moment to find the right spot, sighing with relief as you finally settled. Theo, of course, didn’t offer any help. He was oblivious to your pain, ignoring it altogether as he sat on the cushion next to you, still all giggly over his (terrible) impression of Mickey Mouse. 

But, Jake noticed your discomfort. You knew he did, you could feel him watching you. And it was confirmed for you when he spoke up, asking if you were okay.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you said to him with a shake of your head, glancing in his direction, avoiding looking at him for too long. You knew it would hurt if you offered more than that, with the way Maya had herself wrapped around him. “Just a little hard to get comfy these days.” 

Except, when you’d heard the soft timbre in his voice as he’d moved to lean forward, over the chair’s arm to quietly check on you. . . you were, in fact, not fine. Hearing his concern for you had made it as though there were no Theo or Maya or anyone in the room. For a moment, at least.

When you broke your own little rule and looked over again, you watched as he untangled himself from Maya. And within a moment, he was situating to face you and the rest of the room on the chair’s ottoman. 

He read the card to himself, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he giggled under his breath. His beautiful teeth, on full display in a wide smile. Then, his face was suddenly serious. He was putting on a persona. You looked at him with wide eyes and a smirk, waiting for whatever this was. One of his eyebrows raised as he flourished a gesture with one hand.

“Oh, fuck no,” Josh groaned from his spot across the room. “Not the Johnny Depp. Please.”

“You’re a pirate, and your map shows where the buried treasure is,” he read aloud, using his best Jack Sparrow accent, flailing his arm and slurring together his words as though he had just downed the last sip of rum. “The bloody problem is. . . it’s in your Target’s. . .,” he paused, presumably for some sort of dramatic effect. His brow, raised, hand out in the air with a wave.

For some reason, you felt nervous. You knew, more than likely, that you two wouldn’t be partners again. Just because it was the same game as all those months ago, didn’t mean it was going to play out the same. But. . . you just had this feeling that something was about to happen. 

With a huff, you readjusted once again as your baby leaned in a way that had your back suddenly killing you. You focused on her and worked to prepare yourself for whatever this card said. (But, as you were about to discover, there was no preparing for this one.)

“There is no way the card said ‘bloody problem’,” Daniel jested with a laugh as your heart skipped a beat in odd anticipation.

“A Jake treat, as one might say,” Josh added, your pulse quickening at all of the possibilities. “The one not being me.”

You just let your eyes roll, playing off your anxiety. You repositioned your body once more. You were feeling very overheated all of a sudden, sweat accumulating in your armpits. And the most recent change in position had already begun to cause aches and pains (thank you, squirmy baby girl). 

“The treasure is in. . .,” he said again, a bit firmer for emphasis and with a glare towards the two mocking brothers. (The glare wasn’t any good for your comfortability, by the way. The irritation painted on his handsome face made your skin heat even further.) “Your target’s. . . . pants,” he finished. The room shot off in laughter, while you nervously scratched at your scalp. You were silently panicking inside your mind.

Fuck. 

He held the card between his middle and index fingers, then flicked it across the room before reaching his hand to the bottle. (Why was that so fucking sexy?) You clenched your fists, your jaw, everything as the bottle was spinning, slowly contemplating the fate of the soul it would choose as Jake’s victim. 

Please no. Please no, you thought, looking away from its slowing spin. The idea that not watching it would somehow deter it from landing on you, asinine. (As if it fucking worked that way.)

But, when you heard the glass slide to a stop, and heard the collective gasp from everyone in the room, you fucking knew.

When you turned back to the bottle, in all of its glory, you found it pointing right at you.

It could’ve landed on anyone else. Literally anyone, but it chose you. Wonderful. 

“Looks like you’re up!” Sam teased, thankfully breaking the tension in the room, the gasps turning into little laughs from the others. 

But there was no laughing for you. . . . not for Jake, either. You both sat still as statues, you watched him contemplate the card as his fingers messed with the hair at the back of his head. Then, they switched to flicking at his nose, and after that, smoothing out an eyebrow. 

He seemed just as nervous as you were at what this card implied. When his eyes caught yours, you felt them silently asking you if you were okay with this, as though he could sense the same nerves that brewed inside of him, brewing inside of you, too. 

Part of you wanted to break the rules, make him spin the bottle again to land on someone else. But when you glanced over to the dark haired beauty sitting next to him, you felt a red hot anger take hold. Your body felt heavy with it as she leaned up to read the card over his shoulder, her chin perched there, holding his thigh tight in her grip, from behind him. And, well, you decided to hell with it. 

“Take it away, Captain,” you responded with a courageous sense of finality (albeit a little nervously). You let your eyes float from her to him and his waiting eyes.

A shiver ran down your spine when his eyes darkened at once, just enough for you to notice. You’d seen him just like this so many times before – confident and spurred on by you. He slowly stood up, hands pushing on his thighs and smoothing down them as he cocked his chin at you. And then, he was sauntering toward you with his Jake walk that, if you were standing, would’ve surely made your knees buckle. 

Thankfully, he threw his little Jack Sparrow impression in there as he came closer and that alleviated some of your stress. For the time being.

“Permission to seek the treasures hidden in yonder trove?” He requested in the same drunken pirate voice, standing before you as you were still seated on the couch. You cracked a smile at him, finding him very funny and even more endearing. He was truly the most endearing person you’d ever met.

Then, as if he were Captain Jack himself, he held out a hand, his body wobbly and perfectly imitating the beloved character. (Oh also – this character was, unashamedly, turning you the fuck on. Or was it just Jake?)

“Permission to seek a kiss on the hand of a fair maiden, m’lady?” He slurred, eyebrow popping up, lips in a loose grin to resemble the charismatic pirate he often chose to imitate. 

You placed your hand in his, used it as leverage to begin to stand. However, before you could scoot your ass completely off the couch, he was motioning for you to stay sitting with a shake of his head. 

“You’re comfortable,” he quickly noted seriously as Jake, not as Captain Jack. He dropped your hand to point a finger down towards you and the couch. “Stay there and I’ll come to you.”

Not needing to be told twice and knees slightly shaky at the command, you looked down at your lap and decided to sit there and wait for what he had in mind. But, as you readjusted just a little, bringing your ass closer to the edge of the couch to better his. . . access to you, you heard him speak up.

“Y/n. Don’t move.”

“I’m not, Jacob,” you argued back, looking up at him. “Just getting situated.”

He huffed, his jaw tightening. You looked back down at your lap, trying to not focus on the sudden, uncomfortable quietness of the room. All night, there had been noise from his brothers, but at this moment? There was not a fucking peep. You fanned your hands out on your thighs several times, flexing your fingers against the soft skin there.

And, after a breath, he was slowly lowering himself to your level. You tried not to watch, focusing instead on your black fingernail polish. But, after a cough from Josh’s side of the room and the smell of Jake’s cologne truly encompassing you, you felt his breath fan across your forehead.

Apprehensively, you peered up to look ahead. And when you did, you were looking right into his amber-brown eyes. Your breath caught in your throat at his closeness. . . and at the fact that you were being observed by a room full of people – including your date and his very serious girlfriend. 

You prayed to whoever was listening that he wouldn’t make you become some animalistic version of yourself. Prayed to control yourself and that he would have enough sense to control himself. He wouldn’t truly risk what he had with Maya for a silly little game and his oversensitivity for your pregnancy, would he? 

Logically, you knew it would be best to just stand up and feign sleepiness to avoid whatever this could turn into. But, realistically, you knew that would make things even more awkward and might even hurt his feelings. . . Although, you doubted that possibility as much. He wouldn’t be that seriously hurt, would he? With the way he’d switched his emotions on and off with you? 

You just stayed put – didn’t want to make anything seem too obviously weird. This was a game. 

But then — he was leaning in. 

Leaning in so surely and steadily that you feared what he was about to do. When all he did was push your hair behind your ear and put his lips close to your ear, you should’ve breathed a sigh of relief, but you couldn’t. Because you felt the eyes of everyone else as he did this. You also felt every breath from his mouth against the shell of your ear. It was making you feel light as air and heavy as a brick house all at once. 

“We’ve been here before, haven’t we?” He mumbled, just loud enough for you to hear, the words feeling dark against your neck. 

And when he pulled back, he was winking at you as if you were the only two in the room. Yet again, paying no mind to his girlfriend who was only feet away. He definitely wasn’t considering your guest who was even closer. Goddammit, Jacob. 

“Be careful,” you mouthed, your eyes which held his, leaving no room for disagreement. 

All he did was smirk in response, pulling himself back just enough that he could sit on his knees before you. And before you knew it, his palms were flush against your thighs. Simultaneously, he was gripping the smooth skin and caressing it, working his way upwards until he met the crease between your thigh and hip on both legs.

And — his hands were under your shorts. Under your motherfucking shorts in front of Maya, God, and everybody. The way the pads of his calloused thumbs traced the gentle crease there set your skin on fire. You knew you were blushing – felt it from your face all the way down to your chest. Without any control over yourself, you aided in his journey, spreading your legs apart for him. 

At that, you heard his breath hitch and you glanced up at him, catching his dark irises in a steely stare of your own. His eyes were blazing with the intensity of the moment – he looked like a man starved. Your heart was hammering in your chest. You were just waiting for your fucking monitor to alert you of a spike in your heart rate. To break this up. But, from what you could hear, it hadn’t made a single beep. Shocking.

The way his thumbs continued to apply pressure to the semi-secret place between your hip and thigh made your head spin and your panties wet. You tilted your head to the side slightly, felt your core flexing around nothing, throbbing for him and his touch. You breathily sighed through your parted lips as the pads of his thumbs edged closer and closer to your center. 

At their own will, your hips lifted off the couch, your body, not allowing you any grace, and begging for his touch. His thumbs hesitantly grazed the seam of your underwear, the only thing preventing his fingers from going where you desired them most. 

Another cough from Josh’s side of the room. 

Fuck it all. Not here. Not here. Not here. 

Why had no one laughed? To stop this? Whatever. You’d do the best you could to get both of you in the right state of mind. Didn’t know how well it would work with your brain all fuzzy, but you’d try.

“Jake,” you began, his name coming out as a moan more than the authoritative tone you intended. So, you tried again. “Jake.”

Suddenly, he was frozen, his hands halting their movements as you caught one another’s eyes. You stared him down until he understood – you had to stop. Like. . . What the actual fuck? What was the point in stopping the kitchen escapade earlier if you were just going to do it, on purpose, in front of everyone?! Thankfully (or not-so), after a few seconds, he removed his hands as if he’d been burnt. Where was Josh’s saving laughter?! God.

Before you could grieve the loss of his touch too heavily, his fingers were back on your legs. So he wasn’t going to completely stop. He did have a task. And you knew damn good and well he intended to finish it with the way he’d been attracted to your body as of late. He began by gripping the middles of your thighs, coming towards you to whisper in your ear yet again. 

“They’re all drunk anyway,” he reassured so very quietly, his words fanning over your ear, hair still tucked behind your ear from before.

Then the calloused tips of his fingers began their venture back up towards the treasure trove. Your shorts. He still had a damn treasure to find. In your pants. 

This time, he began by grazing the waistband of your shorts, rubbing the fabric between his thumb and index for a moment. You gasped when they made unexpected, gentle contact with the skin of your round, pudgy lower tummy.  Your eyes flew to his, which were watching your face carefully.

He chuckled breathlessly at your response, his eyes not quite as dark. They were wide and genuine as he lopsidedly grinned at you, lips once more at your ear for a brief moment. “I love this belly – love our baby who’s moving inside.”

The tears that sprang to your eyes were inevitable at the talk of your tummy and his baby. One little tear dared to fall, and you reached one finger up quickly to catch it, so as not to make this any more than it needed to be. Tears would indicate you were feeling more than a game called for. To balance yourself, you quickly placed the hand behind you to brace against the couch once more. 

Then, his nimble fingers were traveling lower. Your legs were still spread wide enough for him to have proper access. You couldn’t utter a word when his thumb purposefully brushed your lower tummy once more, the other four digits of both hands creeping just the slightest bit into the waistband of your shorts at your hips. You looked down, then up to him — catching his eyes still meeting yours. The proximity was close, close enough that you could’ve kissed him easily without needing to lean down more than an inch. 

It was at that moment you felt the air leave the room. When his fingers crept low enough that you felt them graze your bare hips and ass, grabbing at the skin there the best he could. He was underneath your damn underwear. He wasn’t fucking playing around with this treasure. His thumbs stayed near the front of your shorts, the best they could with your little belly in the way.

You wanted so badly to forget this fucking game and lead him somewhere more private, away from peering eyes. His face was suddenly coming towards you again, lips brushing your ear. “Miss your body so much, baby.”

Your lids lowered at those words, a huff brushing past your lips. Every single word resonated. You missed him. Your body needed him.

It also came to your realization that he hadn’t used the piratical voice once since getting on his knees. Every time he’d whispered in your ear, it had been simply Jake. It wasn’t about the game any longer. Hadn’t been this whole time, you’d bet. His lips stayed against your ear as his fingers continued to massage the flesh at your hips and the crest of your ass, shaky breaths exhaling against you as you kept your breathing in time with his. 

And it was almost as if he’d forgotten about the game altogether when he slipped his thumbs much lower to match the other fingers’ placement. The pads of his thumbs now resting against your underwear. He wasn’t going to go underneath where you wanted him underneath most, apparently. Fucking tease.

Though, he didn’t let the underwear stop the gentle movements of his thumbs. His thumbs were playing dangerously close to the spot he’d been nestled so many times before. You gasped, the sound turning into a tiny moan as he began tapping his thumbs just the slightest bit at your clit over your thong. Your breath caught in your tightening throat, and when he looked up at you, full smirk and a glimmer about his eyes, your body started to tremble, every inch of you heating in a very familiar way. 

Was it beginning to go too far? Absolutely. But if you were truthful about it, you just didn’t care. Not anymore. The room had gone silent moments ago – you knew everyone was watching, and you hoped to fuck that Maya was watching. But you also knew how wrong that was. How wrong it was that you didn’t care the way you should’ve, how wrong it was that this was happening in the first place. 

He placed his mouth on your ear once more, a groan escaping him at the same time you felt your sensitive nub pulsate against his finger. “X marks the spot?” He heatedly spoke against your ear, in a whisper that only you could hear as his thumb pressed just so. So close.

The sigh you pushed past your lips with the crinkle of your brow made you believe a certain something was very near, your core grasping at nothing as your clit hardened familiarly. 

Just then, Josh made an obnoxiously loud and unnatural display of clearing his throat. It was quickly followed by an overly boisterous cackle – an obvious attempt at putting an end to this.  

Your body jolted, but you couldn’t move as your breath came out in short puffs. Jake hadn’t moved an inch, steady, mouth still at your ear. You were so close. So fucking close. The slightest bit of release trickled into your panties, but not enough. Not what you needed. Not the precipice you longed for. Only a teasing little gesture from his knowing fingers to your wanting body. 

Jake’s eyes found yours one more time, begging you to feel what he was feeling. His irises were nearly covered by his pupils, so dark. Only seconds before both of you jumped at the next interruption.

“O-KAY, I’d say you found it, Jacob!” Josh blurted. At this, you forced yourself back to reality. You shook your head inexplicably at the same time that Jake removed his hands, placing them instead on his thighs where he was still kneeling in front of you. 

The loss of his touch reminded you where the fuck you were. The nasty slap of reality – the reality of the game. And worse. . . the mocking reality that Jake was not yours. Lest your round never stop.

“NEXT?” Josh shouted once more, and just as swiftly, Jake was shooting up from his spot, also having been yanked back to the real world. 

Jake shuffled away from you and didn’t dare go anywhere near Maya before he was jetting off to the bathroom. He’d been basically a blur before all of your eyes, barely giving a second thought to it all.

When Josh got up to (awkwardly) pass the deck to Maya for her turn (the last one to go), you kept your eyes trained on Josh (who hadn’t looked at you yet). You were not going to look at Maya. You hated how you felt just as guilty as you did deserving. But the guilt was definitely crawling up your spine. He’d just had his hands down your pants with his girlfriend sitting right there. Who wouldn’t feel bad?

Looking over with worried eyes to the room’s other guests, you saw Danny and Sam simply looking at you with their mouths hung wide open in shock or amazement or both? Fuck. You must’ve given a damn show. Their eyes cleared slightly when you looked at them and their gaping mouths turned into uncomfortable laughs as they looked at each other with a little giggle and raised brows.

Before you could look to see Josh’s expression, you heard Theo clear his throat beside you. And, you suddenly remembered just how close he’d been to witness all of. . . that. And you felt more than a little rude for doing that in front of him when you’d invited him over tonight. Even if you hadn’t wanted to, you still had. You’d extended an invitation he’d been very excited about. Then, right beside Theo, you’d let another man work your body like his goddamned guitar.

Ashamed as you were, you still worked up the courage to scoot back and next to him once again. He was sitting stock still, hands clasped tightly in his lap as he stared down at them. His foot, tapping uncontrollably. You observed him for a minute, contemplating what to say (Maya, still not saying what card she’d drawn – probably waiting for Jake). Ultimately, you went with a basic apology – didn’t know what else to freaking say or do. 

“Theo,” you spoke quietly to him, placing an uneasy hand on his thigh. He flinched under your touch, but didn’t move. You stared at his profile, willing your voice to express genuinely. “I’m sorry you had to– I’m sorry that–the card. . .,” you trailed off, suddenly blanking on something to say. Fuck. 

Because, honestly, it really had been the game. Yeah, you’d both taken it too far. But it was a game, ultimately. And did Theo deserve an apology for that? Were you so much of a bitch that you were beginning to question if he deserved one? Damn. How did you say sorry for someone else’s actions and the card he’d pulled, not of his own choosing? To someone who wasn’t your boyfriend?

The actions were his choosing, an annoying voice lulled in the back of your mind. But you were the one who readily responded and fucking moaned. 

“I’m just– sorry, I guess,” you ended up saying, hand still sitting atop his thigh. Sorry you guess?! When had you become such a bitch? “Seriously,” you tried to add. “I’m sorry that the card was what it was.”

And, it worked. Because his eyes immediately found yours after the words. And, although he still looked like he’d been stung, his lips curved into a smile. 

“The card wasn’t your fault,” he said semi-easily, using a hand to brush it off. Though, he was still fidgety, moving to hold your hand in his clammy one. As much as you didn’t want to hold his hand at the moment, you let it happen. Figured it was the least you could do. Fake it till you make it. “It was just. . . a lot to see. But, things happen. It’s just a game,” he said, more to himself than to you, nodding his head in reassurance.

You did the same, a tiny smile perking your lips. He could be pretty sweet when he felt like it. You were grateful for how he was responding to it all. It helped your shoulders to release the tiniest bit of tension. . . because there was still someone in the room who’d been too quiet since the. . . occurrence. There would be no surprise if she was pissed at you (granted, she should’ve been angrier at Jake, but that wasn’t how brains worked – it was always the other person who took the heat). So, when you finally got the gall to look over, you found her staring straight ahead. Her legs, easily crossed due to no pregnant belly and arms also crossed. Her new card was sitting in front of her, face down, waiting to be read. 

She was nowhere near ready to play it, though. Not with how her freshly manicured fingers harshly lilted against her arm and how her tongue worked side to side angrily in her mouth, bouncing from one tense cheek to the other. Her perfectly full lips, pursed and freshly chapstick-ed. 

And Jake was still not out of the bathroom yet. 

Going in completely blind at what you should say, you just started speaking. Hoped something good would come out. “Um,” you began, turning the slightest bit to face her. You tucked one foot under your thigh, trying to find a good position to be comfortable and confident. She still wasn’t looking at you as you continued. “I’m– I don’t know what that looked like, but–.”

“It looked like I was about to witness that baby being made for the second time over,” she bit out, her lips still pursed tightly and her fingers squeezing tight on her biceps. Still wasn’t looking at you. 

Your teeth ground together at the way she’d referenced your baby. ‘That baby?’ The tone she’d used when she’d spoken of the tiny girl you held safely inside of you every damn day. . . Uh-uh. You were not the one. 

But, you tried, once more, to be kind. For Jake. “It wasn’t anything. Jake and I–.”

“Were ‘just friends’ who got ‘fucked up one night and had sex that resulted in a baby’?” She scoffed, flipping her hair to the side, arms crossing once more after her air quotes. She turned in her spot to look at you. 

Her eyes were fiery, but you’d beg to differ that yours carried even hotter flames. Fuck this bitch.

“Wait– Jake– Is he–?” Theo tried to question, but Maya cut him off.

Thank God, honestly. You didn’t want to explain all of it to him right now.

Maya’s eyes scrutinized you – in your home. “Yeah. . . y/n. Don’t try,” she sighed, annoyed with you. Her nose flared as her lips, fuller due to (presumably) incredible injections, puckered. “Jake already fed me that shit. But what I saw tonight? I’m taking that ‘just friends’ line as utter bullshit.”

Well. What in the hell could you say that would even remotely get her off your damn case? The entire room was dead silent. The complete silence was how you knew Jake was done in the bathroom – you’d heard him washing his hands and you heard the exact moment he walked back into the room. You could literally hear his feet padding back into the living room. It was that quiet. 

You watched him, his view downcast as he ran a hand through his hair. He flicked at his nose, smoothed his brow. And in the same few seconds, he was once again nudging his nose before quickly wiping at his left eye. He was jittery. Nervous. Upset. And he wasn’t looking anywhere near you. It made your heart break and your eyes water.

“Maya, babe. I don’t know what the fuck just happened,” he began to say, finally looking at her. He went to sit back down on the ottoman, facing her. “I don’t want you to think—.”

You decided to drive the point home yourself. “It was nothing, Maya. Jake and I. . . we were nothing,” you broke in, thankfully gaining her eyes once more. As you looked directly into her eyes, you did your damned best to not look at Jake. Didn’t know how you’d do with looking at him at the present moment.

You wanted to say your piece—have the upper hand. Before he could say anything even the slightest bit hurtful. Your heart was getting pulled side to side. It didn’t matter at this point how true what you were going to say was. 

Someone just needed to diffuse the fucking tension before it tore the entire room in half. Also, you had to fucking pee again. And you weren’t about to not have the last word. Fuck Maya. Truly. Fuck her. But you were still determined to say one more thing. For Jake — to save what he had with the stunning woman. 

You continued on, your voice surprisingly serious and indescribably stable. “It was just a stupid mistake one night that resulted in a beautiful life. Whatever the fuck just happened was for the game.” Then, you got an idea. Perfect explanation. “Jack Sparrow is a ladies man, as we all know. Jake was just playing up the part. He doesn’t actually want me like that.”

Why you cared so much to save a relationship that made you want to simultaneously punch a brick wall and lay in bed rotting all day. . . you didn’t know. You just knew it was for Jake. He was happy with her. He had been happy with her before he knew about the baby and you weren’t about to ruin that for him. You’d done enough damage.

Even if he was the one that had just done. . . that in front of everyone. The truth was: you couldn’t be together, but you ached for him. You wanted to be more. You just couldn’t be. He needed Maya’s stability. Not your irrationality and baggage. You were giving him a child. That was it. It had to be. 

“. . .And I don’t want him like that,” you stated plainly. Strong. “We share a baby. That’s it.”

And as the terrible words slipped past your lips, all you could think was no. That wasn’t fucking ‘it’. You wanted it all. And he seemed so oddly transfixed by you – was it just because of pregnancy? The fact that you were having his baby? Was it something else? You didn’t fucking know. Didn’t need to know. 

All you knew was that you cared for him so much that you had to make him think he’d meant nothing to you. He still needed to move on from the idea of you. Needed to stop the touches, the laying in bed together, the talk of jealousy. . . stolen moments in the car, in his bedroom, in the kitchen, and apparently now in front of people. 

A group of people that had included his girlfriend. Godammit, it needed to stop. You had to be the level head. Fucked up that the overly hormonal pregnant woman who cried at the drop of a hat had to do the hard work of denying it. . . But. . . Someone had to.

“She’s right, My,” Jake mumbled, trying to keep it private between the two of them. But, considering the dead silence, everyone else was privy to the words. And you were aware of the hardness in his tone, like he wasn’t sure he believed what he was saying. But, he was saying it. So he at least wanted to mean it. 

You looked down, not wanting anyone to see the tears brimming your eyes. Just in case one might fall, you wanted to immediately catch it. Tears wouldn’t do anything for you. They were just annoying – made you bare your emotions in a way you hated. 

“We were never anything. Still aren’t,” he let out a cough, breaking out into a ridiculous fit of them for a few seconds. It was enough to make your head raise with concern, watching him carefully as Maya patted at his back, trying to help him steady himself. You wanted so badly to help him. Why was he choking up?

“I believe you, babe,” she muttered as he gained a breath – finally. “It was just the character. I should’ve assumed. I know you better than to think you’d still be hung up on all of it.”

“There’s nothing to be hung up on,” he let out, coughing one last time, covering his mouth with a fist. And it was then, as he raised his head, you realized the coughing had perhaps been a cover. You’d bet money on it. His eyes were threatening to spill tears, too. They were already red-rimmed. You hadn’t even noticed. . . had he been crying in the bathroom? Over her? Over you? Both? The baby? Dammit, Jake. “Y/n and I aren’t a thing. Never have been, never will be.”

Fuck. It was a damned stab to the heart. Your skin fucking crawled at the words, throat tightening. You had to leave the room as soon as possible before you revealed your own level of emotion to everyone, just as Jake’s eyes revealed his if anyone looked close enough. Your eyes were still leaking, your fingers (surprisingly) catching every single tear that came – and there were many. But you still needed to pee and you wanted to cry where no one could see you. 

Just then, you heard Sam let out a loud honk of a laugh to your right, making your skin turn hot and you sniff the tears away the best you could to momentarily look over at him. You were grateful for the interjection as it assisted in bringing you back to the present time.

“I understand,” she laughed, playing like she hadn’t been worried for a second. So self-assured. And then, she was speaking again. To you. “Oh, and y/n.” 

Quickly, you sniffed once more and found her haughty glare. Bitch. You didn’t trust yourself to speak, so you only lifted your brows with a hum to show her you were listening.

“It’s really whatever. I overreacted. I need you to know. . .I know it doesn’t go past the baby for him. I was just. . . in shock,” she casually responded, her voice all Valley again. As she checked her nails, you knew she was being way too nonchalant for the way her face had transformed during the game. She was covering. Faking, and acting like a cocky bitch while she did it. “It was shocking to see, that’s for sure. Considering. . .,” she trailed off, pushing jet black hair behind her ear with one hand while the other gestured to your tummy. “Sex made baby – even if it was only one night, you guys have had sex, so. . . Just made me a bit uncomfy, hun.”

Hun. Again? Fuck off, bitch. 

Jesus. You were over plastic women for the day. And this one you couldn’t get rid of like you could the nurse. The scoff and roll of your eyes had been stark and apparent. Even if you were going to carry on with the lie that you and Jake had only had sex once (laughable), you were not okay with her speaking down to you. Fuck that shit. 

Thankfully, Danny broke in, making it a conversation rather than an awkward personal confrontation in front of a group. “The game is very sexual. . . Guess I’ve never realized,” Daniel added. He was really trying to lighten the mood you were sure he felt taking over the room. . . everyone felt it. The air was so tight it could’ve been popped with a pin. “Just makes things look like they’re not,” he assured both Maya and Theo. You didn’t miss the quick look he threw your way, his kind eyes focusing on you for a breath. Danny wasn’t stupid. He understood. But he was assisting in the little white lie to help all parties involved. Took Maya’s eyes from you, you noticed as you glanced her way. 

When you looked over at Daniel again, he was cracking a smile with his last words, “Think of it this way: that could have easily been Sam doing that shit to me.” 

“I wish!” Sam drunkenly responded, laughing so hard his already-drooping body collided with Daniel’s side, making the taller one fall slightly. Both of them were woozy – Sam much more-so, but Danny wasn’t all there anymore. Danny did the best he could to sit both of them up straight with a shake of his head and his own chuckle.

“The point of the game is literally just to embarrass each other,” Josh tried. “It’s not about sex entirely.”

“Of course it is!” Sam encouraged, using his hands to billow out around him as if he were making an imaginary rainbow. “Everything is sex and we’d be idiots to think we aren’t surrounded by the concept of sex all the fucking time. I mean, pregnancy itself is a reminder that sex is more than a social constru–.”

“Just because we’re surrounded by it–because you know I believe that shit,” Josh quickly broke in, saving the room from going down that path again. Thank you, Joshy, you sent a quiet smile his way and he just winked at you as Danny had. He continued, “It doesn’t mean we need to play games intentionally putting people in these types of scenarios.”

“Especially with couples involved, guys,” Theo added. His words made you duck your head again, squeezing your eyes shut. Did he think you were already a couple? Why did that idea make you nauseous? It made you want to hide in a fucking hole. “It’s not okay to play a game that forces couples into awkward situations. We all just want to have fun. Do something we all enjoy.”

“It was Sam’s night,” you quietly spoke up from your hunched position, leaning up a little to say more. “We played it because Sam loves it.”

“Maybe next time we choose something else,” Theo said in a belittling tone, as if explaining a foreign concept to a toddler. “Think of others,” he glanced over at Sam. 

Next time? And why the fuck did he think he had the right to talk down to Sam? He barely knew him and it was public-fucking-knowledge that he was feeling down tonight. 

“Well,” Sammy started, looking over at Theo with a raised brow and a dry smirk. “What do you propose we do for the rest of the night, new guy?”

“Mm,” your date started, tapping his chin. Then, he cheesily held a finger up, getting an idea. “Maybe a movie?”

Okay. You’d officially decided this conversation could be handled without you. So, standing shakily, you had to put a hand on the arm of the couch to balance. As you were looking down, you noticed a hand reaching out to offer stability. A familiar one. One wearing a hair-tie ring on his middle finger. 

But you ignored it, instead sniffling once more and making your way to the bathroom. With a baby pressing down on your bladder, there was rarely time for more than a couple stops. And you’d waited a damn long time to get through that confrontational-discussion-thing  already. Pee was just daring to drip down your legs and you were not about to add that to the list of shit from tonight. 

Once you were there, you wasted no time shutting and locking the door and sitting on the toilet as soon as your shorts were down. Your hands floated to your tummy as you sat there contemplating it all. There was simply too much to put into words. All you knew at this moment was that the baby girl inside of you was a little piece of joy. And before she arrived, you were going to begin trying your best to focus on positives. 

So, with one more sniffle and a blow of your nose into toilet paper, you came to the conclusion that you had to try. And a tiny good start was that someone had replaced the roll of TP with a brand new one, rather than having you have to grab for one. A positive.

Though, when you went to throw away the piece of toilet paper you’d blown your nose into, you double-glanced at what you found in the trash can. The reason you’d had a new roll of toilet paper. Because, well, the extensive amount of toilet paper in the trashcan, covered in. . . release told you exactly what the fuck Jake had done in here only minutes ago. 

And that thought alone got in the way of the joy train. Had he been thinking of you when he’d–? He had to have been, right? But then he’d come out, so ready to deny anything ever being more between the two of you. 

You did it, too, y/n, a small, soft voice reminded you at the back of your mind. Maybe he was scrambling for a lie just like you were.

You just hated the lying. The games. The touching. The wanting. The needing. The crying over it all. The thoughts prompted by his used tissues had you sitting against the bathtub before going back out. Sitting against the bathtub while sniffling again, losing more tears, and blowing your nose into a tissue one more time. 

What in the fucking hell had your life become?

-🌼🌼🌼- 

You didn’t know what the fuck you were thinking when you ended up walking Theo back to your room. Truly. The whole fake it till you make it bullshit was leading you into territory you weren’t sure you liked.

The only explanation you could conjure up was that he’d had his arm around you all night, after you’d come out of the bathroom all vulnerable. And, well, you’d done your damn best to only focus on all things Theo after the mini emo-episode in the bathroom. 

You’d had to force yourself to focus on other things. And, it seemed now you were going the extra mile to force a feeling. You had to try this. Just to see if this one last resort could take your mind off of Jake. It had been a plain impulsive act to take Theo to your bedroom and try it as soon as everyone had finally dozed off. 

And, honestly, your body had still been (obviously) thrumming with adrenaline from your challenge with Jake during that blessed game. You’d had no relief with Jake (thankfully – that would have been embarrassing as fuck). It had all ended terribly. But, all night, any time you thought of Jake’s thumb tapping and circling over your clothed clit, you’d focus on the man who had his arm around you. Just tried ridiculously hard to channel every single bit of that tense energy into imagining Theo on top of you rather than Jake. 

It was hard to do, but it was healthier that way. For all parties involved, Theo was the option that made moral sense. 

Though, at this moment, with his fingers between your legs and his lips on your neck. . . you completely regretted the idea of coming to your room. You didn’t want this with Theo – especially with Jake’s baby in your belly. The thought actually made tears spring to your eyes. (Shocking, right?)

But, you were determined to keep trying to have a nice time. You were trucking on until you could at least fake an orgasm. You knew for damn sure it wasn’t going to turn into any more than this tonight, though. 

The whole thing felt like a scam to you. You felt like your body was a hollow shell around you, the only thing keeping you grounded was the baby you shared with another man. A man who was polar opposite than the one currently fingering you. Once the orgasm had been faked, you knew you’d be ready to fall asleep. You were carrying a human life, after all. And your effort to keep up an act had you fading fast anyhow. 

You also really hated the fact that you were stark naked. Theo seeing you this way didn’t get you all hot and bothered. Made you feel pretty gross, honestly. But he’d been very keen on stripping you of all your clothes as soon as your door had latched closed behind him. At the same moment, you’d still been excited – leaping towards him for an open-mouthed kiss (you’d been really desperate for this little experiment to work). 

It hadn’t taken long to figure out the biggest reason why he’d wanted your clothes off. Not with the way his hands had immediately found your engorged breasts. . . . You couldn’t blame him – the big boobs that accompanied your pregnant body were pretty easy to look at. 

He’d paused at the small heart monitor piece on your chest. But you’d just given him a shrug and said, without a shred of patience for his hesitance, “I’m tracking my heart right now. Take me or leave me.”

You didn’t care enough about him to care what he thought. And you didn’t want his hands on you if he was going to be weird about it. But, he’d just shook his head in return, not saying anything before pulling you closer. At first, Theo’s hands holding your ever-aching boobs felt okay – a little better than okay, actually. Even if they hadn’t felt like what you needed, they’d done the trick for a small while. 

But at this point? It had been a long, grueling twenty minutes of him holding them. Fondling them. Non-stop. One hand bounced back and forth between your boobs, while the other worked real hard to get you off with alternating pointer and middle fingers. Right off the bat, you’d had to stop him from playing with your nipples – it didn’t feel right at all for him to do that. But you’d let him play with the rest. 

Goodness gracious – you couldn’t help but wince with one particular twist of the football player’s meaty finger. His fingers were really thick. . . like, uncomfortably thick. They were on hands that truly belonged to a college athlete. 

Your specific preference was a guitar player’s fingers. . . . They just felt nice. There was no comparison to the way those purposeful, calloused fingers made you feel. . . they were a stark contrast to the way these sausage fingers had you clawing at your bedsheets for some sort of relief. You wanted to enjoy this. . . So badly, you wanted to enjoy this. This needed to work so it could be a distraction from your baby daddy. 

But God – the feeling of his one, too-big finger was absolutely grating. . . He kept spitting on your folds, trying to keep you wet. But everything he tried was to no avail. He hadn’t tried well at all to get your body to open up for him. So, at this point, your body continued to jostle, dry and sore, with his eager motions. He was very big and muscular, which made him handle you like a bit of a rag doll. (That had been the only hope of turning you on in all of this.) 

“Oh, yes, Theo,” you exaggeratedly sighed as he continued to pump his finger, running your hands down your cool sheets. Everyone was asleep, it didn’t matter how loud you were – and you needed to sell it.

You had to admit that at the moment, you were working on getting nominated for a damn Oscar with your sounds and facial expressions. Despite his terrible talent in bed, you were doing a really incredible job at convincing him you felt good. You even threw in a little sigh and moan every now and then. 

If you were him, you were sure you’d be convinced that you were doing a damn good job. 

“Yes,” you encouraged half-heartedly, sleepy and anxious to be done. “Just like that. Juuust like that.”

At your words of affirmation, he went a little harder. The tips of his fingers kept connecting with your cervix in a most uncomfortable way. It was making your stomach twist in pain and your eyebrows furrow with discomfort. Yeah, you were not going to fake it through that. You couldn’t.

“That-that hurts,” you mumbled, gripping his thick blonde hair. 

When you said that, he slowed to a much more acceptable pace and gave your cheek a little peck. Afterwards, going back to kissing and breathing way too hotly on your neck. Your neck that was barely sweaty, not being worked up in the slightest anymore. As he continued his little rotation of terrible patterns, you continued to hold onto his head. It added to the effect. 

You kept him close, but all you truly wanted to grab onto were long, wavy locks of chestnut brown hair. The ends of Jake’s  long hair would have surely clung to his tanned, broad shoulders – sweaty from exertion. 

Theo’s hair was still perfectly styled, his scalp not sweaty from hard work in the slightest. He wasn’t doing nearly enough – he was just pushing really hard and twisting in the wrong ways. He also kept trying to add another finger that just did not belong inside of you. It was like your body kept closing up every time he tried. 

Good looking out, body, you thought with a cringe as he tried yet again. 

“Just one finger,” you tugged on his hair. His hair, shorter than Jake’s and not quite as full as Jake’s either. 

God, why did you keep thinking of Jake?! Correct, this wasn’t enjoyable at all, but it didn’t mean you needed to be wistfully thinking of Jake at the same time. Jake and Theo were two completely separate people. Totally different in more ways than you could count. 

Their talents in bed are definitely different, your subconscious picked. We know who does a better job at this for sure.

You could have flicked the little devil in your head to the side, but the voice did have a point. What you were experiencing right now was nothing compared to the miraculous shit that had gotten you into your life-bearing predicament in the first place. That otherworldly sex was undoubtedly leaps and bounds beyond whatever Theo thought he was doing for you. 

Speaking of which, he was making his way back down your body. Now, facing your pussy. Most probably about to spit on it again. You kept a hand laced in his hair as you continued to fake breathy moans, even going so far as to groan his name. 

“You almost to the finish line?” He grunted the words from where he’d positioned himself at your raw, sahara-dry center. “Seems like you take a while to get there, babe. ‘S a lotta work for one guy. Almost done?”

‘A lotta work’? ‘Almost done’?! The ‘finish line’?!

What the fuck kind of conversation was this to be having? And why was he saying it like he was just shooting the breeze? Your legs were wide open, pussy fully exposed in front of his face. And he was complaining. Also. . . ‘babe’?! What the fuck.

This fake orgasm needed to happen soon. You were so done with whatever was happening between your legs. Without caring to respond, within seconds, you started amping it up. Your first act was grasping the sheets below your hands tighter. Your toes curled against the sheets as you brought your legs closer together. Your head, thrown back as you moaned louder than before, breathily exclaiming his name in tandem with the pace of his fingers.

You worked to clench your core around his fingers, continuing your praise of him with scattered, urgent ‘yes, yes, yeses.’ 

And, as soon as you sighed with finality and let your body relax, he removed his fingers. The minute he did that, you were ready to grab a giant t-shirt from your dresser and some underwear. You needed to go pee first. But as soon as you could, you were going to come back to bed and let sleep find you. He would just have to understand.

“I have to pee,” you said, moving as quickly as you could to the edge of the bed. 

Thankfully, the bulky man had enough sense to move out of your way, flipping onto his back on the opposite side of the bed. And, when you made it to your dresser to put clothes on, you did not like what you saw in the mirror to your dresser. Theo, with a too-proud smirk on his face as he watched you from his spot in bed. 

Ugh. No. You did not want that. You wanted Jake in that spot, like he’d been before. Jake, lying there naked under your covers – the most beautiful reflection for your mirror. Your stomach tangled at how Jake had eyefucked you that morning, as you’d attempted to put on clothes. 

You’d just found a pair of black panties, slipping them on hastily before yanking on a pair of pajama shorts that had been laying on the ground. Your hair was next, getting tied up into a quick ponytail. Then, you’d made the mistake of looking in the mirror. The bed was perfectly placed in the mirror’s path, and the sight from the bed had made your breath catch in your throat.  

Jake, in your bed, his long hair, still messy from sleep and sex. . . his deeply set, tired eyes. . . tanned skin, the perfect shade of brown after hours spent in the summer sun. The sight that had reflected back at you made your heart race. You’d caught your breath, taking in a sharp breath. One elbow, holding him up, while the other worked under the sheets. . . his eyes, lust-filled and appreciating your exposed thighs. 

Quickly, you’d abandoned your hair, deciding to not ignore the need that thrummed between your thighs, making your heart beat wildly in your chest. With him laying there looking like that, how could you refuse? His defined pecs and tight biceps had flexed with each pump of his fist. His dick, disappointingly hidden by the covers. 

In the blink of an eye, you’d been on top of him, as he’d deliciously stretched you, opening you up for him.

Fuck it all. You could’ve slapped a hand to your forehead. Your life was a damn joke. In the present time, you averted your eyes from the mirror, not wanting the image of Theo, in the same spot as Jake, in your mind. 

When you got your underwear up your legs, you decided shorts were a good idea. Didn’t want him looking at your body anymore. Then came the giant t-shirt. Hide hide hide.

You heard a groan of upset from your bed, but he was smart to not say anything. If he opened his mouth right now, you didn’t know what you would say. Because, well, you were pissed at life. This was not the reality you wanted, but it was what you’d been so graciously gifted. 

You chose this, y/n, your voice of sense reminded you. You brought this on yourself.

Seriously. Your life was one giant laughing stock.

The tears that sprung to your eyes were definitely expected with the night and the hormones. But, you really weren’t so sure anymore that all of the tears could be blamed on the hormones. Even if you didn’t have the hormonal parade inside of you, you were pretty sure you’d be just as sad. Just as angry. Equal parts angry and sad. All of it was enough to make any ‘normal’ girl cry. 

You made sure your back was to Theo and face out of the mirror when you let the first teardrop fall. There weren’t many of them, but a few easily slid down your cheeks as you went to open your bedroom door. But, hand on the knob, you hastily wiped at your face with your free hand. You didn’t want anyone seeing you like this. Especially one person. . . the last thing you wanted was Jake’s pity. Granted, Jake was probably asleep, Maya most likely wrapped in his arms.

Today had started off so well with him. . . but the way you’d ended it? Stupid stupid stupid. 

Before you left your room, your stomach dropped. What you’d just done. . . it just made you feel icky. Bad. Disgusting. Like a damned fraud. You honestly detested that you’d done it. To your utter dismay, you knew it was safe to say this little experiment of yours was already blowing up in your face. There was no convincing yourself that Theodore was who you wanted. Not at-fucking-all.

Not when Jake Kiszka existed.

“Hey, y/n,” Theo called to you from the bed, louder than you wanted him. 

You turned around to him, eyes big with a finger pressed to your lips. “What?” You whisper-spoke back. “Be quiet.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he shook his head with his brows furrowed, sitting up a bit better, balancing on his elbows. You noticed when he’d shaken his head, his hair stayed in one place due to being a shorter length. Disappointing. “Um. . . tonight. Maya said. Um,” he trailed off, trying to subtly flex his too-big arms. You were proud of yourself that you hadn’t rolled your eyes at him yet. “Is Jake. . . is he. . .? The baby’s–?”

There was no point in hiding it anymore. You shouldn’t have in the first place anyway. That’d been childish and ridiculous. “Yes,” you shortly responded in a whisper, twisting the knob to your door. “The baby is Jake’s, yes.”                                                                                                                      

-🌼🌼🌼- 

Jake’s POV 

The moment I woke up from the fitful nap I’d fallen into, my neck hurt like hell from leaning wrong and all I knew was. . . I had to fucking piss.

There was no way I wasn’t going to pee down my leg if I didn’t get to the bathroom. 

The only problem was: Maya was sprawled out on me. Her breasts, pressed against my chest and one leg draped across my hip while the other laid on the other side of my opposite leg. She even had an arm wrapped around my torso, making it that much more difficult to move quickly. I looked around the dark living room for the one person I cared to check on first thing. It was hard to adjust my eyes, the room lit only by the menu screen from the movie we’d been watching. 

Shrek. A childhood favorite to get Sam’s spirits up. Every single person in the apartment had surely seen the movie dozens of times, so we’d all passed out rather quickly. 

But, as I scanned the room for y/n, I noticed she was absolutely nowhere to be found. And neither was her new–. 

“Oh, yes, Theo.”

What the fuck?

“Just like that. Juuust like that.”

Fuck me. What in the hell had I done to deserve hearing this?!

Well, for one, the angel on my shoulder chimed in. Forcing her to hear you with your girlfriend wasn’t the most fair thing you could’ve done. . . It was only in due time that she’d be—.

“Just one finger.” Y/n. Again. Moaning through the walls. And now I knew enough to know exactly what the prick was probably doing. 

What he was doing to the woman who who was carrying my child. His hands were on her, in her. . . He was doing things to her perfectly growing body while I was out here. Having to listen.

Now you know how she felt, the angel (who was sounding more like a devil) continued. Doesn’t feel great, huh?

The little, reasonable voice didn’t reassure me whatsoever. It just made me feel so fucking foolish and utterly disgusted at what was going on behind her door. It was my damn fault. I knew it was. And the moans and cries from y/n’s bedroom. . . Those sounds had me wanting to take back every single action I’d committed to lose her any more than I already had that day in the kitchen. Fuck.

The need to pee had vanished. Now all I felt at the current moment was anger. Spitting anger. The desire to punch a my fist hard against a fuckin’ smug-ass blonde athlete. 

Then it was another voice. It was hard to make out what he was saying, but the quietness of the apartment helped me to hear a bit of it. “. . .take a while to get there, babe. . . lotta work for one guy. Almost done?”

Babe?! And a while to get where? If he was talking about her sweet pussy— he was a goddamn moron. It never took her that long with me. And if it did by chance, I thanked God I got to worship her for just a while longer. Got to discover more ways to please her.

She was so ethereal and goddess-like. . . It was the best game—figuring out how to get her to the edge. It was the pinnacle of sexual endeavors. And he was asking if she was almost done?! God. My blood was fuckin’ boiling. As if I needed any more confirmation, I officially knew the guy was a fuck-ass idiot. 

I shifted my weight completely away from Maya, brushing an angry hand through my ever-growing hair. Needed it away from my face, which just kept getting hotter by the second. My body felt like it was on fire. My pulse was electric under my skin.

As I moved even closer to the edge of the chair, Maya snuggled up against the arm rest I was getting away from. She seemed fine. She’d be fine. But what the fuck was I even moving to do? I didn’t really have to piss that bad anymore, but I had to do something. Guess I’d fucking try to go anyway. Something to get my mind off of what was going on in y/n’s bed. Fuck that shit. Seriously.

All I could think about was her soft body falling apart at the hands of this dimwit of an asshole. Her tits, full of milk for my baby, in another man’s hands. Her belly, my baby girl, in the middle of whatever the fuck was happening. 

I couldn’t help the fire that once simmered, now burning in my chest at the thought of it all. Before heading to the bathroom, I decided on a whim to check on the lavender. One more thing to focus on. A seemingly happy thing. 

Sam had requested the twinkle lights in the living room be on for the movie, so they were an aid in seeing the plant once I got to the kitchen. There was just enough of the yellow light flooding in from the living room to the kitchen.

I’d put it back in the original terracotta, not knowing a better solution than that one. We’d kept it under the sink the same day we’d bought the white vase. And for some strange reason, seeing it in the original pot I’d given her just made my heart twist in my chest. I longed for y/n daily. Day in, day out, she was the woman I awoke and fell asleep thinking about. So badly it hurt, I felt this pulling desire for her. Before knowing about the baby, but especially now that I knew about the baby. 

What sucked, though, was I still hadn’t the faintest clue where I stood. Where she stood with me. It was all such a convoluted fucking mess. It didn’t matter what kept happening, I was so confused. I couldn’t keep up.

And so much had changed since the day so long ago when I’d given her the lavender. For one, I just kept falling for her. More and more by the day. I’d now experienced things with her that I couldn’t have dreamed of back then. 

She was my muse–the hope that had shone when I’d felt hopeless. She was the woman whose body I wanted to watch rise and fall – whether it be above me, on top of me, below me, how-fucking-ever she wanted – every single day for the rest of my life. Her body was the only temple I wished to enter endlessly. Over and over again. 

And, of course, she was the mother of my child. . . She held the light to my world in her soul and in her belly, now. And the lavender I stood before, it resembled the beginning of us for me. . . The beginning of a chapter in my life that I had to close much too soon. A chapter I never wanted to close.

After making sure the plant was thriving, I decided it was due time for me to try peeing. Getting up had kind of helped the urge to come back anyway, so. The one part I was dreading most was walking past y/n’s room to get to the bathroom. What the fuck would I hear this time? Being so close? I was about to swear to every ‘Higher Being’ – if I had to hear the bed springs squeak as I passed, I’d erupt.  

. . .Right before I could begin my begging, though, her door opened. Right as I was coming up to it to cross to the bathroom, it wedged open a bit. Just enough for y/n to slip out without her belly grazing the doorjamb, her eyes down and avoiding any sort of contact with anyone. 

I was far enough back that she was able to come out undisturbed. But as soon as she stepped fully out, she was only inches away from me and staring at my chest. Almost instantly, her eyes fluttered up to look at me. It was as if she’d been caught. 

The twinkling lights from the living room were a god-send right now as my eyes pored over her angelic face. Her eyes glowed magnificently under the splash of light from the living room into the hallway.

Though, even with the warmth in my chest at seeing her pretty face under the lights, my heart sank. Her hair was a mess, she was adjusting the big t-shirt over her body, still pulling at the collar. She’d just put on clothes. I knew my face said I was stonewalled. My jaw was tight, clenching as I let my eyes scan her exquisite, gentle features. Her plush lips, slightly agape. And her jewel-like eyes, wide and wondrous. Her long lashes fluttered, enticing me.

At the moment, all I wanted to do was read her. But, I was too concentrated on doing everything in my power to not look pissed off. It wasn’t even that I was pissed off — well, yeah. I was. Definitely. I was livid. But not at her. I didn’t want her to think I was mad at her. 

No, all I really felt was this hole in my chest screaming over conflicted emotions. I knew what I wanted — who I wanted. But we’d both fucked up our chance with the other and now we were having to hide anything we did. The sad truth was, we’d actually always hidden it. I never got to show how deeply I felt for her out in the open. 

Though for her and Theo, she could walk out of her bedroom with her hair a mess and no one would ask any questions. Even though everyone now knew that it was my baby inside of her.

What was my fucking luck in that? Had it been for our good to not work out? Were we only meant to be co-parents?  And if so, why did we keep ending up in compromising situations? 

Her wet tits in my hands in the kitchen. My instincts, going into overdrive at the thought of her hurting herself on the water and glass. The way she’d hardly seemed to think about it when she’d leaned over the console to wrap her pretty mouth around my throbbing, hot dick. 

Then there was every time I’d ended up with her in my arms, my mouth on her skin. Her eyes always seemed to observe me, wide and curious eyes, always seeming so deep in thought. She’d chosen me to take her to therapy. The care she had about hearing Maya and me fuck — obviously more than platonic annoyance. Right?

Or was I imagining that part? Did she truly only want me as a friend? Was she only acting on her desires because she was pregnant and horny? 

It was when I finally let myself get out of my own head that I realized her magnificent eyes were glistening with unshed tears. Fuck. Was she okay? Had he hurt her? Was it what had happened during the game? What was going through her mind? How was she feeling at this very second?

“Why are you awake?” Y/n whispered towards me, voice wet and bringing me out of my swirling thoughts. 

I ignored her question, instead asking her my own. “Are you okay?” I softly responded, letting my face relax just enough to let her know I was worried about her. “Why does it look like you need to cry? Did he hurt–?”

“No,” she quickly shook her head, wrapping her arms around herself, right under her chest. Her nipples were hard. She wasn’t wearing a bra. Obviously. But the thought of him touching–. No. Focus, Jake. “He didn’t do anything wrong to me. I’m just–. I just. . .,” she shook her head. Her eyes were suddenly downcast. They stayed that way for a while, her gaze glued to our feet. 

It was like she was questioning every possible descriptive word to give me an inside look to her soul. So, rather than making her feel as though she had to tell me anything, I decided to carefully lift her chin with the lightest touch of two fingers underneath. And what I saw when her eyes connected with mine made my heart tear in half. 

Her cheeks, flushed with emotion and her eyes still shimmering with the same sort of longing I felt when I stared at the lavender in its original pot. How I’d felt tonight with her quivering under my hand. I’d felt that. Felt her harden for me, desperate to fall apart. It had turned me on at first, but then – it had just made me feel. . . Melancholy. 

She showed the exact same now in her eyes, the dimples at the tops of her cheeks coming out as her lip shook. A shadow of the past washed over her soft features as a few more tears traveled down her even softer cheeks. I didn’t hesitate to reach a hand up, using my thumb to stop the tracks at the apple of her left cheek, right below a dimple. 

She sniffled once, her body relaxing at my touch. Her wide eyes stayed connected with mine, her brows matching the crinkle in mine as she concentrated on me, just as I did her. I realized just how tense her shoulders had been as they relaxed with a calming breath pushing past her pretty lips. 

There was a flash of something behind her eyes, but she looked away again before I could analyze it. So, rather than standing around in her space any longer, I decided to go to the bathroom before I overstepped or bothered her any further.

But I couldn’t take more than two steps to walk away before she launched herself at me. Her arms wrapped comfortably and surely around my waist, tucking under my arms and palms resting between my shoulder blades. The way her head nestled against my exposed chest was almost too much to bear. Almost.

She’d done her best to bring herself as close to me as she possibly could. Her belly, the baby, was nestled so securely between us. Right where she belonged – not anywhere near the dickhead in her bedroom. 

The way she let her head rest against my chest was like a puzzle piece clicking into place. And it felt even better when I brought one hand up to cradle the back of her head, a few more of her tears dampening my skin and the fabric of my shirt. I let my fingers slip through the strands of her hair as my other hand massaged her scalp. Her hair was like silk between my fingers.

The way I felt her breathing even out beneath my touch and against my body made my heart skip a beat and pick back up to a pace that felt like coming home. 

But too soon, she was pulling away from me and shaking her head like she wasn’t sure about what she’d just done. I could see the wheels turning, her eyebrows creased tightly before her hands came to her face and furiously wiped at any leftover tears. Thankfully, she didn’t waste time looking at me again. I assumed my expression matched hers pretty well – conviction glazing over our eyes. I felt it at the feeling of being so close and how it felt so fucking right. It felt more right than wrong and that was scary as fuck. 

I was in a relationship with someone else and I couldn’t even bring myself to care. And the bullshit I’d fed Maya tonight? Did I believe that? Did y/n believe what she’d said? So, I locked eyes with her, pleading for her to hear my heart wrenching thoughts. To answer my questions for me. My chest felt like it had completely caved in on itself with how I felt at this moment.

I want us to work this out. Please, I searched her eyes, wishing she could understand. The way her eyes brightened a bit gave me hope that she understood to an extent. Please – somehow, some way. I need more with you again. I don’t give two fucks that my girlfriend is sleeping in the other room – she isn’t you. 

But she didn’t respond to it with anything other than a shake of her head, her fingers smoothing each of her eyebrows, one at a time. Her arms were getting tucked under her tits again, crossing tightly there. I tried not to stare. I knew she was trying to center herself and she needed the moment without me fucking gawking at her to do so.

God – it would make things so much easier if I could just open up my head and heart and let her look inside. Because, unfortunately, I didn’t know how to say the shit that had me all fucked up. But now wasn’t the time anyway. Since, yes, my girlfriend was sleeping in the next room over and her boyfriend thing was behind the door we were standing in front of.

“Why are you awake, Jake?” She tried her earlier question again just as quiet but the slightest bit clearer. But my mind was in a daze, just watching her lips move. Admiring the gentleness of her breaths, rising her chest. I definitely didn’t answer right away, which had her clearing her throat. 

When I blinked a few times, I let my eyes refocus on the here and now. “I had to pee,” you whispered back, words plain and void of any heavy elements of emotion. I didn’t want to get in my head and stick my foot in my damn mouth. 

I kept doing that, it seemed. I just kept fucking things up. And not just with words – going beyond words with foolish actions. So many actions. Actions I didn’t regret nearly as much as I should have.

“Oh,” was all she pushed through her lips, barely a breath of the word. She’d started nervously rubbing her bicep, eyes going down to look at my chest and abdomen before trailing right back up to my face. 

“What are you doing awake?” My eyes evaluated her figure, sensual in every way – she didn’t have to try. Her body was perfect in every way and I’d appreciate it while playing dumb to her goings-on. I didn’t want her to know that I’d heard any of it – the reason she was awake. Not yet anyway. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” she snapped at me in her little hushed tone. The way she’d bit it out, it was as if she was scolding me. No way. She didn’t get to do that when I caught her every fucking day staring at my body the exact same way. Not when she’d called me motherfucking Captain earlier in the evening, practically begging me with her eyes and spreading her legs for me in front of God and everybody. 

My line of sight instantly found hers again, one brow raising at her and a small smirk on my lips to try her. “What’s wrong with me looking at you?”

“I don’t want you to,” she said, all too quickly. 

“Hm,” I hummed, scanning her face for any sign of hesitancy. It was painted all over her features – she didn’t believe what she was saying either. I could especially tell by the way her eyes followed mine and how she bit her lip. She wasn’t anywhere near angry – at least not with me anyway. She was simply conflicted. 

Join the club, baby. 

“Don’t test me, Jacob,” she cautioned, her arms increasing their pressure under her breasts. 

So, I did. Test her.

I let my eyes immediately go to where she’d applied pressure, her tits accentuated with the way her arms pushed them up. Even with the big t-shirt on, I could see as her nipples hardened under my stare. The thought couldn’t even cross my mind to try to prove her right as I saw it happen. My mouth was too busy watering, my dick starting to twitch in my pants. Her chest was rising and falling at such a rapid rate, I just wanted to know so badly what it would look like to see her chest without the hindrance of clothing. I could only imagine what her tits looked like now. 

Fuck. I bit my lip and tucked my hands in my front pockets to stretch the front of my jeans enough to distract from what I felt happening in them. The second time she’d gotten me like this in one evening. The poor toilet paper, half of a roll completely used, having to catch all of my desperate release. My stupid fucking tears as I did my best to aim into the tissue, with a whisper of her name on my lips. As she’d sat in the living room, having to explain my thoughtless actions. 

Had they been thoughtless, though? Or had it been a sort of plan to force Maya to see something she needed to see? If that were the case, I’d let that plan crash and burn to the ground. But it was hard to consider the actions thoughtless. Not with how her body had called out to me, the game card working in our favor – allowing me to show the world how well we matched. How her body moved in perfect time with my hands. Trembling underneath me, right out in the open.

Oh, her body. I bit my lip as my eyes trailed down to her thighs. Her hips, where I’d had my hands placed purposefully as long as I could. Wanted to hold her so tightly by the hips, her belly situated so wonderfully for my thumbs to trace it while holding her. Then, my sights landed on the gentle way her toes wiggled against the carpet. And, slowly, I worked my way back. Over her thighs, hips, and to her belly. 

The thought of her voluptuous, pregnant body lived comfortably in my dreams. But I wanted to see it in person – actually see what she looked like underneath her clothes – wanted to fucking study her beautifully stretching skin. Wanted her completely bare for me and my eyes only. Her body was getting fuller in ways my brain couldn’t keep up with. It was fuckin’ heaven to watch her grow – her tits, ass, thighs. . . that precious belly that held my baby.

I let my eyes trail back up to her chest. Still rising and falling so steadily – like I’d seen so many times before when she’d lay naked under me, panting just as hard as her with my release trickling down her belly, between her breasts, anywhere I could get in time. It was truly ironic how hard we’d tried to be safe. Kind of funny, actually.

Now wasn’t the time for humor though. Not with how badly I needed to touch her naked body again. Even to only see it again would satisfy my raging, tempting curiosity. I wanted to see her new body naked – pregnant and growing everyday with my baby.

Quickly, my half-hard dick was no longer a worry as I remembered just who got a bare look at her before me. And that got the fuck under my skin so quickly, that I glanced back up soon enough to catch her biting her lip and keeping track of my gaze with a hazy one of her own. And when she realized I’d caught her, her mouth was falling open and closing just as quick. She licked her pink lips once, at a loss.

Neither of us said anything for a long, tense moment. I let my head fall as I tried to not think about what had transpired in her bedroom. Not when I’d just had her to myself tonight. I didn’t know the details of what she’d done with him and every single second I kept imagining it in ways I did not fucking want to. The hand I let rub over my face was in an effort to fix my expression. 

Get out of your damn head, Jake, I coached myself, mentally slapping the sides of my head to clear it. You’ve done the same fucking shit to her, asshole. Made her listen. It was past time you had a taste of it.

That was enough to snap me back to reality. My thoughts landed on the golden woman standing in front of me who I continued to get heated with for things she was doing – people she was seeing. A bunch of shit that I was holding over her that I’d done plenty of times before. It was not my place. Right? 

The only thing that I was hung up on was that she was the one with the baby inside of her. I felt this intense, almost carnal protection over our little girl in her womb. Did I get a say in what y/n exposed her to? Was that my right? Damn. . . shit was maddening as hell.

“Well,” she said, her voice raspy before she cleared her throat just as she had earlier. I adjusted my sights on her again, opening my eyes to find her biting her kissable lips. Once again, there was something behind her eyes. Her eyes, bright and wide and waiting for me to come back to the present. My head was cleared instantly of all conflict now that I held her eyes. “I’ll let you go to–.”

“Stay with me,” the words fell past my lips without any thought. 

“Um,” her brow raised, a slight cough escaping her. The hint of a grin came to rest on her features. “While you go. . . pee?”

What was I implying? Was I telling her I wanted her to go with me while I peed? What the–?

Wouldn’t be the first time, my thoughts jested at me. The idea of the past made a small grin land on my lips. Strange request, but it had already happened before – peeing in the bathroom back to back, sharing our morning routine. Was it okay to do that now though?

Fuck it. Did I even care if it was okay? 

“Like you haven’t seen me pee before?” I replied, the hint of a laugh on my lips as my smile widened. My head was clearing. I’d be fine. Just had to concentrate on the here and now. On her. Right in front of me. 

Her expression was past the point of staying stony, her lips stretched to show a wide smile now. But she did seem to contemplate it for a minute. So, I rushed to retract what I’d said. “You don’t have to if it’s weird since we’re–.”

“Sure,” she responded, voice still a whisper to match mine. “I need to go too, anyway, so.”

“Do you want me to wait outside while you pee?”

“Why would you do that?”

Her question shocked me. She was alright with me being with her while she pissed? That seemed all the more significant than her being with me while I did it. And how in the fuck had this all started with me needing to pee? And now it was turning into a sort of group pissing session with y/n? The ludicrous nature of it all was enough to make my teeth show with a quiet laugh. 

“I want to respect your priv–.”

“If you’re okay with me being with you while you pee, I’m fine with you being with me,” she reasoned, her hand coming out to graze my arm for a second. Too short of a moment for me to make anything of it. She was simply being a friend. I liked it. Even though I wanted more, I liked it. Being her friend was an incredible gift on its own. It just sort of hurt to think of–.

No, Jake. Not now, a voice corrected me, sounding like Josh. This happened from time to time, my inner voice chiding me while sounding just like his voice. The fucker’s advising voice lived rent free in my head. Just go fucking pee.

I motioned for her to lead the way, but she motioned for me to do it at the same time. And when she refused to move, I knew she wouldn’t start walking until I did. Stubbornness was one of her defining traits and I was used to it. Something that pissed me off, but also made her who she was and I loved who she was. 

She quietly followed me to the bathroom, her soft steps padding behind me in a way that made my heart feel whole. 

As soon as we made it to the bathroom, I made sure she knew she had to enter first. Holding the door open for her, my feet planted on the ground as I motioned for her to go inside. Surprisingly, she didn’t hesitate. Instead, she was rushing in, forcing me to follow her lead and remember she was pregnant and needing to pee wasn’t a joke. 

I shut the door, and as soon as I did, she was pulling down her pants. Hastily, I decided that I wasn’t going to watch her pee, trying to respect her privacy at least a little bit. When I heard her start to go with a heavy sigh, a relieved grin reached my mouth. Although, until that moment, I hadn’t realized I was feeling the urgency with her enough to feel relieved for her–with her. 

The way she gently sighed though – it brought on some serious guilt. Because, yes, she was pregnant and had come out of her bedroom to pee. I shouldn’t have let her lag in the hallway. Even though I didn’t like it, I knew she’d been doing shit with Theo. And peeing after sex was already necessary, and on top of being pregnant? 

“I’m really fucking sorry I made you wait,” I said, a touch louder than the hallway since we were now behind a door. 

She huffed a little giggle, the melodic sound leaving her lips at the same time I heard the toilet flush. “I’m the one who forced you to tell me why you were awake. It’s my fault,” she excused, the sink already turning on behind me to tell me she was washing her hands. Once more, I heard a little giggle escape her. “My pants are up now. You’re in the clear.”

I turned around, only to find myself staring in the mirror and her staring straight at me. She was smiling so wide it made my insides feel weak. 

My own lips stretched to share a laugh with her. “I didn’t want to disrespect you by watching you take a piss.”

“Jake. Be so serious,” she smirked, the sink flicking off before she gently towel dried her hands. 

“I am being serious!” I clarified, half smile still resting on my lips. 

She only shook her head, still grinning. I pushed my hair back over my forehead before I lifted the toilet seat. And without even thinking about it, I started unzipping my pants. The action made her turn around herself, her cheeks pink before she was facing the same wall I had been looking at only a minute before. Her shoulders were shaking a little with her fit of giggles before I turned to pull my pants down enough and focus on my aim. 

As much as I wanted to stare at her ass, making a mess while taking a fuckin’ piss would be embarrassing as hell. 

I couldn’t think of much more than how good it felt to pee as soon as it was happening. The need apparently hadn’t gone away once, contrary to my belief, because my bladder was definitely less tight as I flushed the toilet myself. But whatever the fuck I’d woken up hearing was enough to apparently make the urge disappear, while still definitely being there. 

Stupid ass life. My life as a whole had honestly become a comedy club. Whatever. It didn’t matter. 

“You can turn around,” I repeated her words, trying my best to not think of her naked and underneath him as I closed the seat and tucked myself into my pants. 

Fuck – the sounds had conjured up this image that wouldn’t leave my brain. His hands on her belly. The same image I’d had before of them spread across the island. But this time, it was in her bedroom. And it was based on reality. Something I’d actually heard. I wanted to openly retch at the idea of him holding onto her full tits which I knew were sore as hell, due to what they were growing to provide. I’d done so much fucking reading on all of it – I didn’t need her to tell me for me to know. But the night in the kitchen. . . how she’d been so relieved for me to touch them. Had it been like that with him? Her body relaxing with contented sighs at him holding her heavy breasts?

I grit my teeth and washed my hands quickly, suddenly needing to get out of the tight space of the bathroom. All I wanted to do was sit her on top of it and pull her panties down. And as much as I could convince myself not to, I was going to regret if I did it and regret if I didn’t do it. The inside of my head was a fuckin’ storm. I just wanted to sleep. 

But. . . if I went to my room, it meant she’d go back to him. Was that truly what I wanted? No. It was-fucking-not what I wanted.

It doesn’t matter, that Josh-like voice started again. You don’t get to choose what she does. You’ve told her yourself that it doesn’t work like that. Suck it up, Jacob.

Looking up from how I was furiously washing my hands, I saw her watching me from behind. She was surveying me, thinking deeply. I could tell by the way she was chewing the inside of her lip. Something I don’t think she even knew she did. But I knew. I noticed every tiny thing she did. Every fidget.

“You washing your face?” I asked, briefly glancing down to turn off the water and dry my hands. I was trying to let common sense take over and train my mind back to sane places. 

When I swiveled on a foot to face her once more, her eyes were back to being a bit more hollow. The swirling studious reflection in her eyes from before had washed away. She was centered. She was able to tame her thoughts while I was failing miserably at it. 

“Not tonight,” she shook her head. And then she was chewing the inside of her cheek once again. “I’m tired. Long day.”

“Yeah,” I nodded slowly, a smile unable to stay off my features as I thought back to the appointment. It had been the best part of my day next to having y/n falling apart at my barely-there touches during a motherfucking game.

I’d experienced heaven at that doctor’s office. Watching our baby girl, learning her already. I had a name for her stowed away already. I’d traced it on y/n’s belly in the kitchen earlier in the evening, but I was waiting to see if she had any ideas of her own before I launched mine. Didn’t want to cloud her thought process with my own. I needed to give her space and that was one small way I could. 

“Well, let’s go to bed, then,” I said, voice hushing once more. Even with a somber feeling fogging up my brain, I still managed to smile enough for it to reach my eyes. For the precious woman in front of me that was selflessly carrying our child. “You lead the way this time.”

End of Jake’s POV

-🌼🌼🌼- 

Theo had been waiting for you at the bedroom door. Leaning against the doorframe like a fucking impatient child – or a mother worried sick about her child. It had been horrendous timing. Jake had almost made it to the bedroom door to drop you off. 

You hadn’t even realized Theo was leaning against the doorframe until he was clearing his throat before you. 

You’d been too consumed in Jake to notice. Consumed truly being the only word you could think of to describe the feeling. The walk back to your room had been so wonderful. You’d shared the smallest, quietest laughs about nothing and it had been bliss. He’d kept in perfect time as you walked beside each other. Your hands had grazed a couple of times, shoulders bumping maybe too frequently. The butterflies had been going ballistic in your tummy.

But, when the motherfucker had given that little cough to alert you of his presence, you’d both looked up from the other to see him. He’d been standing there, so self righteous. You’d felt Jake’s body tense beside you – didn’t need to be touching him to know he was fuming over the interruption.

“Wondering where you went,” the blonde had started, his eyebrow raising as if he were teasing you. “Missed you.”

What the fuck had you gotten yourself into? Dammit. You hated the way he was talking to you and you’d hated even more the way his stupidly thick fingers had felt inside of you. 

Quite frankly, you didn’t want to respond, but you knew he wouldn’t go back in your room until you did. “Just had to pee. Told you that,” you answered semi-honestly. “Ran into Jake in the hallway. We were talking about apartment things.” A lie. Didn’t need him knowing what you were talking about. And you weren’t about to tell him you missed him back – you hadn’t missed him. Honestly, you’d kind of forgotten that he’d been waiting for you. 

Your voice was louder than it should have been with the living room full of sleeping people, but it was impossible to give a proper answer without being a bit louder. You didn’t even want to be giving these explanations, though. It was your home. You were allowed to say and do what you wanted when you wanted. No matter who was waiting in your bedroom for you. Why couldn’t he have just stayed put?

“Will you be much longer?” He wondered aloud, his voice louder than it should have been as well. 

You shushed him, a finger to your lips and everything, just like before. The jock smirked and winked as if it were an inside joke. Ugh. This was fucking annoying and you knew Jake was already making assumptions based on Theo’s stupid little response. 

“No. And be quiet. Please,” you urged, with an expression lacking any sort of humor to match his. “There are people sleeping. Just go wait. I need to finish talking to Jake about a few things.”

The second wink the football player gave you made you want to bend over and hurl. Why? Because. At that moment, you wanted to be a heinous bitch and straight-up tell him that the way Jake used to finger you was worlds better than the sad little trick he’d performed in your bedroom. Wanted him to know his place and humble himself.

Would it have even mattered to Theo, though? Probably not. He’d gotten over the situation in the living room fairly quickly. . . he was too cocksure for it to matter. He was overconfident when he really shouldn’t have been. You’d easily learned that the guy was kind of an asshole who said and did whatever he wanted. Yes, he was cute. . . but almost everything else about him turned you off. He made your insides squirm in ways you detested. And the fact that he’d just had his fingers inside of you –. Yeah, you wanted to hurl.

“I’ll be waiting,” he replied, tone too flirty for your suddenly queasy stomach. 

Then, he was looking at Jake. Fuck. Wrong move, Theo.

Chancing a quick look at Jake, you saw the muscle in his jaw flex. And from your peripheral, you noticed a motion at his side. You glanced down to your side, and noticed Jake clenching a fist between the two of you. For a moment, you looked once more at Jake’s face. Wanted to get him to see you so he could relax. 

But, there was definitely no way Jake was going to look at you. He was too busy glaring at Theo, while simultaneously trying to school his features. He was failing miserably at seeming calm and collected.

You simply willed the football player to not say anything too dense, eying him carefully as he spoke. “Don’t keep her from me for too long, buddy,” Theo smugly remarked. “We’ve got a good time to finish.”

Thankfully, after those dreadful words were spoken, he was gone. He’d slipped through the door and clicked it shut behind him before Jake could even respond. With the way Jake’s harsh, choppy breaths could be heard in the quietness of the hallway, you didn’t want to know what Jake would have responded. Especially with the way he'd avoided Theo all night, being the only one who hadn’t spoken a word to your. . . date. 

Slowly, you turned on your heel, ready to give Jake a look that would let him know that you were just as annoyed as he was. But when you locked eyes with him, his jaw was still locked tight. His lips were pursed. You were contemplating how you were going to finish the night easily with him when he spoke. 

“How long have you two been fucking?” He whispered, folding his arms across his chest. 

Goddammit! Your mind halted at that, cheeks instantly reddened. Had he heard us? Fuckfuckfuckfuck. Stupid to bank on everyone being asleep. 

The fire that settled in your face, all the way down to your toes fueled your next words. Although, you couldn’t tell if you were more mad at him or the bumbling idiot behind your door. Or, maybe, you should’ve thanked Theo. You’d finally been able to give Jake a taste of his own damn medicine.

“Jacob,” you spit, whispering still, taking a step towards him, pointing a finger at his chest. “It is not your business. We’ve been over this. I’m tired of it.”

“I happen to think it is my business when you’re carrying my child,” he measured, taking his own step in your direction. 

Your fingertip grazed the warm skin of his arm. But before you could think anything of it, you placed your hands on your hips. Well, more like the back of them since you had a belly in the way. As much as you hated to admit it, you knew he had a point. It was the same reason you’d been apprehensive of doing anything with anyone. There was someone in your belly that you shared with someone else. How did one handle that? 

“It’s my body, Jake,” you decided on spitting back. Although, the defense felt as though it were missing a few parts. 

“I know. And I respect that. You know I do. But now she – a part of me – is inside of you,” he responded, his tone switching from irritated to. . . defenseless. With his next words, he stood up a little straighter and used one hand to point a finger at your belly. He didn’t touch it. . . even if you wanted him to. “You’re carrying a part of me, so it is my business.”

You hated that you actually agreed with him. You got it. It didn’t feel right to be with someone else. You couldn’t force your brain to fully adjust to the idea of someone else. Was it because of the baby? Or was it because you just wanted him? You weren’t totally sure. But you did know that he had a point. He wasn’t completely wrong. And, seriously – you hated it. After a minute of silence and nostrils flaring at the other, you’d found words that you truly did actually believe in. Words that definitely contradicted him. Gave you some ground.

“You don’t get to lay claim on me because of that,” you argued, pushing his hand away that was still pointed at your belly. 

You regretted the action because it caused him to back away slightly. And that was the last thing you wanted. However, you appreciated the way his body seemed to relax slightly at the words of sense you’d just stated. He took a deep, steadying breath, eyes closing. When he opened them, though, the fiery look in the dark irises still pierced your heart. And made your heart race all at once.

“I know I don’t, baby,” he replied, the pet name falling off of his lips without a pause. Your heart leapt at him calling you that. He shook his head before brushing a hand through his hair. The way he beheld you from his new position, eyes honed in on you, digging into you and making your skin lick with heat. “But that’s not what I fucking mean and you know it.”

Rather than agreeing, you decided to challenge him. Put him on the spot. “Do I?” “Yes. You do. I know you do. Quit acting so fucking obtuse, y/n,” he countered, pushing a hand through the front of his hair to tousel it. For what must’ve been for the eightieth in a single night.

Doing your best to not be distracted by him, you instead braced yourself on the willpower to keep at him. Wanted to get under his skin until he was forced to be irritated enough to leave you alone. Or, push you up against your bedroom door. No, y/n. No.

You didn’t want to think about how he had a point. It just made you feel hopeless that you would never have a chance to move on from him. Not that you wanted to – you just knew you had to. You weren’t good for him and he had Maya. 

Good job sucking his dick and throwing a wrench in things, by the way, y/n, the little devil on your shoulder reprimanded you. It was a daily occurrence that the inner voice reminded you of that shitty decision. Now you’ve made things harder for you and for him. Real nice.

The negative voice wasn’t completely gone with the therapy, just smaller and quieter when it would come around. Normally, the voice made you want to crawl in a deep, dark hole, but with this lovely reminder it kept giving you, you just wanted to punch a wall. 

There was a definite truth in what it was telling you. Whatever. Situation at hand. The voice could fuck off for now. Jake deserved to be called out for being a fucking child about Theo. You were not the only one acting ‘obtuse’. No, he’d had his fair share of being on the stubborn side of things as of late.

“Oh,” you blinked, your eyebrows set in a straight line at him as your own jaw clenched. The finger you pointed at yourself was to emphasize your point. Get him to listen. “I’m acting obtuse?”

“Yes,” he plainly stated, cheeks red under the hue from the living room lights, his deep set eyes, ablaze. Then he grabbed your hand, keeping it steady in his. The feeling of his hand wrapped around yours made your heart thump a bit harder in your chest. “You are. You’re being hard headed and refusing to hear me.”

“Yet. . .,” you began, taking a step closer to him, but ripping your hand from his. The whole point of this was making sure he knew you had your own ground to stand on. He didn’t have to know you felt shaky about it. “You are the one who – all fucking day – has been making sure to let me know how absurdly jealous you are of me and Theo.”

“You think I’m jealous of him? That floundering fucking moron?”

“Jacob. You quite actually said so yourself,” you rolled your eyes, placing your hands on your lower back. “At the clinic today being one specific example.”

He sighed, his eyes lightening a bit at you calling him out. “Okay. Yes, I did say that. Of course I hate that he gets to have you,” he admitted, his arms coming up to cross his chest but brushing against your breasts in the process. Fuck. You did your best to cover yourself, no matter how uncomfortable it was. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice the mishap. His eyes were lasered in on yours. “He just fucking wishes he could have you like I got to have you.”

Without thinking twice, you said something you knew would get him. Still whispering, you spat the next words at him. “Well he’s the one who just had his fingers inside of me and has you all up in arms over this shit. So who’s fucking winning this stupid ass game, Jake?”

He simply stood there for a moment, his chest muscles were tight. He was so tense that even his chest was flexing. The sight was bad for you. His pecs had always made you weak. Your eyes honed in on his perfectly toned chest; it was easy to appreciate, with the way he wore his button down shirts. You’d never stop thanking God for how he wore his shirts. 

You watched his chest steadily rise and fall with each heavy breath. The space between his pecs, where a couple of his piratical necklaces laid, and the muscle that rounded out his strong chest. . . distracting. Your eyes trailed to his face. In the dim hue of the twinkle lights, you could see the red flush taking over his face and chest. He ran one stiff hand through his hair and took one step towards you, his lips still pursed and his jaw, so fucking tight. 

“Fine. I just don’t want to have to hear it, y/n,” he grumbled at you, his eyes darting over every inch of your face. One more step towards you. You quickly moved your arms away, just so his chest could land against yours. Needed to feel him. “I told you that.”

“And I told you that,” you hissed at him, taking a step even when you didn’t have to, flush against him now. Your sore breasts against his solid chest felt akin to a cool breeze on a summer day. “When you first moved in, Jake. And did that stop you? Back then, you broke the rule. And don’t you forget what the fuck you did when you started dating Maya. I had to see it, Jake. You didn’t give a shit what I’d told you.”

When you stepped towards him, his narrowed eyes slowly trailed from your pleading ones – to your touching bodies. His eyes observed long enough for you to know he liked it just as much as you did. Then, he was looking at you again, biting his lip. But he still hadn’t said anything.

“Exactly,” you said in finality, taking that as your opportunity to have the last word. Hm. You fucking won.

Or so you thought. You should’ve known better.

“But I stopped,” he reasoned, still quiet. His breath fanned over your face with how close he was. “After our talk the other night. I fucking stopped. Out of respect for what we’re going through. I understood where you were coming from. And you’re the one who brought it up to me – who created the damn rule in the first place. So does that mean you’re the only one who has the right to break it? Doesn’t seem very fucking fair to me, baby.”

A couple of minutes passed, your eyes never leaving the other and your bodies close enough to breathe in time with the other. Not to mention the way his hot breath continued to fan over your face, making your body feel more alive than it had since the game. Fuck. The game. His fingers. On you. In your underwear. Outside of your underwear – where you needed him most. 

You were, yet again, silenced. But not for long.

“The point is,” you began, straightening your posture and jutting your chin out at him. His face was tight, brow raised to consider your point. “If I want him to fuck me, Jake,” you took the last step you could take, his back brushing the wall with how close you were. Your body, responding to him in every way it possibly could. “Then he’s going to fuck me.”

Jake’s lids went heavy as he studied you, his mouth held inexplicably still. But, he didn’t have time to respond. Your worst imaginings, coming to fruition as you heard Maya call for him from the living room. Faster than light, you jumped back from him. You did not need her on your case twice in one night. Fuck that shit.

Without having to communicate as to why it seemed a better position, the two of you hastily traded spots. Him, no longer against the wall. You, beside your door. It made things look platonic. Because things were platonic. Though, the looks being exchanged between you were nowhere near the word.

You just thought of his words tonight. Your words. You had to live up to them. Whether you liked it or not. No matter how badly it hurt you to hear the words over and over in your mind. And now, sans talking, you were able to reflect, yet again, on what he’d said to her earlier. 

“Maya, babe. I don’t know what the fuck just happened.” “Don’t want you to think. . .” “We were never anything. Still aren’t.” “There’s nothing to be hung up on.”  “Y/n and I aren’t a thing. Never have been, never will be.”

Tears were, once again, gathering in your eyes. The words had magically escaped your spiraling thoughts until this moment. You'd done such a good job avoiding all of it once you'd come out of the bathroom. But now you had to remember. . . you’d started the blunt statements. You hadn’t meant them. You couldn’t truly mean them. Had it been the same for him? Had he just been trying to cover your asses? 

Before you could say or even think another thing, you saw her tight, shapely body traipse up behind him. Instantly, wrapping her arms around his torso, at which he tensed. You wrapped your arms subconsciously around your own torso, suddenly very insecure at your pregnant pudginess. You did your best to not pay them any mind. Your eyes, trained down at the floor, your toes, tucked into the carpet. 

“I’m ready for bed, Jakey,” Maya squeaked, sounding as though she was ready for a highlight reel on E!. She wasn’t from the fucking Valley. Why did she sound like that? While your thoughts frenzied at her ridiculous dialect, your flesh prickled at her calling him Jakey. You loved the nickname, but detested how it sounded coming from her lips. “Babe?”

At her calling him that, you looked up. He wasn’t paying attention to her at all. He was still watching you, his eyes fixed on your face. Fuck. He wanted to keep talking to you. You could tell – his eyes, equal parts frustrated at being stopped and desperate to continue. He looked as though he was a man racing against time. You understood. Completely. You wanted to continue as well. And you simultaneously, silently wondered what it could’ve led to. But. . . she was waiting. 

“Your girlfriend is ready for bed, Jake,” you reiterated, voice too-sweet from the irritation that lingered in your veins. Not with him. Not really. You just wanted to keep talking to him. No matter the case. Because, for some reason, no matter how you spoke – angrily, sensually, flirtily, kindly, jokingly, confusedly, even – a piece of an imaginary puzzle clicked into place. Every. Single. Time. 

The same conflict that swam timidly in his eyes surely swam laps in yours.

“Jakey, baby. Come on,” she whined again, tugging at his sleeve. God. You wanted to throat punch her. Did she not realize he was obviously upset over something? Why was she not caring to take a second to pay attention? Fuck tiredness. Jake was worth understanding, no matter how badly she wanted to sleep. “Let’s go, babe,” the black haired beauty at his side tried once more.

Your face was glowering at her. But she wasn’t concerned with you, her eyes stuck to his profile. He still hadn’t turned to receive her. She hadn’t even tried to figure out why he hadn’t moved, just continued to beg him to do what she wanted. Begging him like an incompetent toddler. Why was he with someone who didn’t care to figure him out? He deserved someone who took the time to know him, read him – inside and out. 

Finally, he turned his head towards his back, where she still stood. One arm, still tight around his waist. He tapped the arm signaling for her to move it, shaking her other hand off of his sleeve. She squeaked in disappointment, while you stood there confused. Your brows, drawn together. 

His eyes scanned you once more, determination set in his irises, before he looked to the side to address her. “Just go wait for me.” Then, he was looking at you yet again. Your cheeks heated at his rapt attention to you. “I’ll be there in a second,” he spoke to her, eyes never leaving yours. 

Somehow, even after the night’s events, Maya didn’t take too long to agree. After moaning and groaning a couple of times, she settled on a pout before she leaned up to give him a kiss. You looked away, a little too slow. You’d accidentally let yourself see her grab the back of his neck, turning his head in the process.

But, thankfully, you didn’t watch it happen this time. He didn’t watch you as it happened. You didn’t let him. Instead, you placed two gentle hands over your tummy, (not-so) patiently tapping out an Earth, Wind, and Fire rhythm as you waited out the kiss. Her humming, the barely-there moan as she explored his lips made you want to gnaw at fucking bone. 

“Okay,” you heard him declare, seemingly finished. But, you kept your line of sight trained down, still. “I’ll see you in a minute. Go get some sleep.”

“Don’t take too long,” Maya said in a sexy way that rivaled phone sex operators. 

When you felt you’d waited long enough, you looked towards the door. You’d waited just long enough, witnessing his door shutting. And, as soon as the door closed, you turned back to him. And him, you. 

“Why didn’t you go with her?” You quietly questioned, any previous bitterness, gone.

“I’m not finished with this conversation,” he simply stated, shoulders squared and sure. His hands tucked into his pockets as he took a stride towards you, close enough again that you could reach up and touch him if you wanted. 

“Why not?” You hushed, averting your eyes from his. He was so near and he’d just chosen you – you couldn’t trust yourself to look at him. Timidly, you let a heavy breath touch his skin, so close. 

His fingers, calloused yet delicate, lifted your chin to meet his gaze. You felt your eyes create moisture at the gentle act. “Because,” he began earnestly, his eyes searching yours. “This is important to me.”

“More important than her?” You questioned in a barely-there whisper.

“I know it might be hard for you to understand just how important you are to me,” he pressed closer, just enough that your chests were once again touching. Your breath was caught in your throat as he leaned down to better address you. “But it’s been this way for a long damn time and I don’t see it stopping anytime soon. Especially now that you’re pregnant with my baby.”

You offered a few shaky breaths before you decided you needed to say something in return. Intending to somehow wrap up what the two of you had started. “Like I said,” you continued, his hand still under your chin. Your eyes, floating between his amber-brown irises. “That doesn’t mean you lay claim on me.”

“I know, baby,” he countered, sighing with a heaving breath and a twinkle in his eye. “But, I am half of what is in here.” He gently touched your belly, attempting to remind you once more that the baby was his. 

Your first instinct was to lean into his touch, let the moment carry on. And, you did lean in – just enough that he noticed. But, you quickly decided against it. It wasn’t morally sound. This intimate moment. It was not fucking right. You let your eyes dig deep into his, begging him to feel the irresponsibility in this with you. You two were getting carried away. Time and again.

His brows drew in, following every movement of your gaze. When he drew his head back a little, you knew he was feeling something similar to you. You saw the realization dawn on his features. 

You’d both taken the time to apologize for the shit in the living room, and acting like this was going against your word. Your character was now coming into question. His character. Saying one thing and doing another. Fucking terrible. Selfish. The word rang once again in your ear, in that same nasty tone from times’ past. Dark, filthy, decrepit times. 

No longer could you make these reckless, selfish decisions. Not while you carried a baby inside who needed you. Already, you had to try to be an example. You couldn’t keep bouncing from incident to incident with Jake. It was all becoming too much for your heart to keep up with. So, with a giant step backwards, Jake’s hand was left hanging in the air where you’d just been standing. You’d made a strangely abrupt decision that you decided necessary to stand by.

He wasn’t attainable. Simple fact. You thought back to the bathroom, finding the tissues in the trash can right after you’d decided to focus on positive things for your little girl. You had to be selfless and let go of the one person your heart helplessly hoped for. . . You had to try to figure your shit out before there was a baby involved.  

All this thing with Jake did was make your heart pinch sadly in your chest. Each of you had people waiting for you in your bedrooms, for god's sake. No matter who they were, you had to quit this to show a morsel of respect towards them, yourselves, and ultimately your baby girl.

Giving it a second of thought and nothing more, you decided to curtly respond. You measured the words in your mind, briefly chewing on them, deciding if they were cutting enough to resonate with him. Had to end the moment. Would you end up regretting this? At the moment, you were too exhausted to care.

“Doesn’t mean you’re entitled to know a damned thing about my life,” you said, the words feeling false on your lips. Shaking your head, you smoothed your hands down the front of your t-shirt, distancing the two of you enough that you were almost leaning on your bedroom door. Him, across from you, now several steps away. It hurt to be far apart. “The baby, yes. Not me. You need to understand that,” you bit the words at him. 

And, without a thought, you knew the final nail you had to plunge into the coffin. These words felt sticky on your tongue. You didn’t want to speak the words, but felt you had to. It was best for the baby. “And things like tonight. . . they cannot happen, Jake. The little times here and there, those haven’t been smart. And I’m sorry for my part in those. . . But tonight?” You raised your brows, your tone a pitch higher as you thought back to the intense moment shared between you. “In a room full of people, Jake. We have to stop being so irresponsible. For her,” you placed a hand gently on your tummy, your eyes peering up at him, begging for support. “We need to find a stable ground for her to land on. The back and forth is not good for a baby. It’s unpredictable and scary.”

He stood in front of you for a second, obviously processing your words. But it didn’t take too long for him to respond with a nod of his head. And, for some reason, you wished it had taken him longer. “Okay,” he coolly responded, his face opening just the slightest at the word. His posture suddenly eased as the tiniest grin formed at his lips. 

-🌼🌼🌼- 

Jake’s POV

“Okay,” she nodded in response, her face flashing with doubt. Just for a second. “Goodnight, Jake,” she breathed, her chest no longer close enough to mine for me to feel. Her eyes, the most incredible pool of color, scanned my face once more before she was reaching up. For some delusional reason, I thought she was about to touch my face.

She never did, of course. Why would she? She was obviously upset and I’d been the one to make her that way. I watched the hand, as she used it to tuck hair behind her own ear. 

But just as soon, she was gone. Her body disappeared behind her door, and I was left standing in the same spot I’d been in many times before. And I felt like a motherfucking asshole. An asshole who wanted nothing more but to apologize to her for any and all confrontation.

She’d made it clear it wasn’t my business, just as I had told her of my love life. Yet, somehow, I’d let myself repeatedly disrespect that. No matter how strongly I felt for her, it wasn’t okay for me to ever make her feel like she wasn’t entitled to live her life however she wanted. I didn’t take back what I’d said – I didn’t want to know about the sex. I didn’t want to hear it. Just as she’d instructed me, I wanted the same from her. 

That wasn’t too much to ask. But, repeatedly bringing Theo up? I needed to quit that shit. Yes, he was a fucking moron, but she’d never done that to me with Maya. Not in the way I had with him. She had always respected my love life. . . She’d even gone so far as to assure Maya tonight of us being nothing. The word was haunting. Nothing. Did she really, truly believe that? 

I didn’t know. And, if it was true, I didn’t need to know. It was the past. . . and that was the hardest part to wrap my mind around. I’d spoken the fucking words with my mouth, too. The web was so tangled and I wanted nothing more than to throw a mistle through it, disrupting each intricate knot we’d created.

We’d made mistakes in recent days. Mistakes that kept me fucking wanting her. . . I’d wanted her before those mistakes, too, yes. . .  but those stolen moments were not doing me any damn good. So I knew good and well they weren’t good for her either. All the touches of hands and mouths against bodies did was crush any chance of us being healthy co-parents for our little girl. And all they did was remind me – every time they happened – that she wasn’t mine to have.

Those things that we’d slipped up on, they shouldn’t have mattered. But I’d let them matter. I’d let them distract me from the most important tiny person in all of this. All that needed to matter was our baby. And it needed to matter how much y/n was doing every damned day for that baby. It was enough to make me realize she was doing so much more than I ever could for her. She was a fucking badass. And, she deserved nothing but complete and utter respect from me. 

But all I’d done was question and worry and put her on the spot more times than a few. Most recently, over her stupid ass study buddy. I was putting too much on her. I needed to fucking stop. The last thing I wanted was for her to feel pressured by me to stop something that might make her happy. She was a smart woman – the smartest I knew – who could do what she wanted. She didn’t need my opinions. Truly. 

There were just a lot of memories swimming around in my mind every single fucking day – day in and day out. Aside from our summer of bliss which was a constant reel in my head, I had a few pleasant and unpleasant memories mixed in there, too.

The night we’d smoked, for one. And that dreaded day in the kitchen, so many months ago. All of the time spent watching her from afar for the couple of months we barely talked. Those months had been miserable, even if Maya had been a decent distraction. The distraction could only work so well, I’d come to find. 

Those months that rattled in my brain included that damn Halloween party. Her, in that sexy ass costume, already pregnant with my baby. Me, drinking as much as I could to avoid looking at her. Though, it’d had the opposite effect. My eyes had been glued to her from across the room all night that night. 

I’d obviously had no idea then who she was carrying in her belly, but I didn’t need to know. That night, I’d still gone to sleep thinking of her naked body. I’d fallen asleep with her bare body on my mind countless nights in that time of not talking. I could still remember. . . when I had taken a shower the night of the party, leaned against the shower wall and drunk off my ass. . . I’d pumped my fist furiously over my dick as images of her bigger tits in that tiny costume flooded my exhausted mind.

And, as I'd finished all over my shaking hand, her name had fallen from my lips in sweet surrender. It had been the first time I’d said her name as I finished. . . in a long while. 

After that, there was the image of her in nothing but a towel, and a phone revealing the most shocking news a person could discover. And it didn’t matter how hard I tried, it still bothered me that she’d told Josh before me. Ludicrous as that may have seemed – but that was just something I still had to get over myself. 

Then, the night she spilled her water. Wet body in my arms, my hands ready to hold her and protect her and our baby from a fall. And the fucking thought of her bent over the armrest in my jeep, a fully pregnant belly brushing my hand as she gave me the best fucking head. 

The less-sexual, serene times where we would hang out together, or hold hands, or meet eyes, or look at our baby on that monitor together. . . those moments in time were pretty fucking shitty to ponder, too. A little worse, I’d say, actually. Because in those moments, I saw so much in her eyes that I wanted to decipher, but felt like I didn’t have the right to. Felt like I didn’t have the right to those special parts of her. Not anymore. 

Fleeing to Maya in September had been the biggest fucking mistake. Rather than taking any damn time for myself, I’d used someone. I’d let another woman distract me from y/n – the one woman who’d meant more to me than anyone before her. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to make y/n jealous with it, too. I wanted her to realize I didn’t need her. I wanted her to hurt like she’d hurt me.

It had been the biggest fucking mistake. A selfish, heedless decision. And now I was paying for it. Like I fucking deserved. 

Maya just wasn’t y/n. Plain and simple. But there was no use leaving her if y/n didn’t want the whole thing with me. All of it. What I’d hoped for all summer, only for her to break me in the kitchen. She still didn’t want that with me. And. . . I had to be okay with that.

Y/n deserved the fucking world. Truly. She just didn’t understand her worth. . . The least I could do from my place in her life was treat her right. She was undoubtedly the best person I’d ever met, and she had to know it. She had to know how wonderful she was. 

I finally made it to my bed after the slowest walk known to man. And, after I laid down, scooting as far to the edge of my bed from Maya as possible, I decided what I had to do. I was going to make it my fucking job to prove to y/n that she was absolutely worthy of all good things. No more bullshit. I wanted to help her, not stress her.

As my eyes shut, I knew I would be starting in the morning by apologizing for being such an enormous dick to her. Yet again. And, I’d begin doing my best to keep my hands to myself. That would be hard, but it was what she wanted. Y/n was worthy of every beautiful thing and more. I just had to show her. I was determined to do the best by her.

For her. 

End of Jake’s POV

-🌼🌼🌼-

a/n: see you soon! (believe me. really. i promise.) truly, chapter 12 is nearly awaiting a post ;)

-🌼🌼🌼-

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