synopsis: things were always easy between you and katsuki. until suddenly, they weren't. (aka you pull back and katsuki notices and hates it)
notes: ALWAYS w the unofficialbf!katsuki agenda. wc ~5k. childhood bffs bc duh. barely proofread sorry
ever since you were three years old with your scraped knees and sticky fingers to now, where teenage life could not be more confusing, there has always been one, unwavering, constant fact.
you're absolutely, utterly, head-over-heels in love with bakugo katsuki.
and you've never been afraid to show it! backhugs, tackling him to the floor, jumping on top of him and climbing him like a jungle gym, telling him you love him like it's the most obvious thing in the world. (it is)
he always scoffs and grumbles, but you'd never take it personally, because when he tells you to get off, he pulls you close. when he complains that you're annoying when you're sick, he brings you soup and medicine and cuddles you to sleep. when he blushes and tells you he hates you, his eyes tell a different story.
so what if he doesn't express it the same way you do? everyone has different ways of showing they care. even if he doesn't say it much, you know katsuki loves you.
right?
-
it was late when you accidentally overheard it. when you froze up and felt your heart drop to the floor. when you started shaking and sweating, eyes darting around for a trash can in case you threw up.
"bakugo, bro, when are you and y/n gonna make it official?" kirishima had teased, throwing an arm around katsuki.
katsuki scoffed and shoved him off. "tch. it's not like that."
"you suuure?" sero questioned. "you two seem awfully close for just friends."
"mannn, if i was bakugo, i'd be all over that. y/n is such a pretty girl!" kaminari chimed in, clearly jealous over his lack of love life.
the teasing continued. you couldn't see him from your angle, but you knew that katsuki definitely had a vein on his forehead that was getting larger by the second.
"you're always carrying her bag, walking her to class.."
"cuddling with her during movie nights, scratching her back.."
"oh! and don't forget how she never forgets to tell him she loooves him whenever they say goodbye!"
"c'mon, bakubro, just spit it out! you two are practically married already!"
the three laughed heartily, clearly enjoying the rise they were getting out of katsuki.
"all of you, shut the hell up!"
"just admit it. you're in love."
he gritted his teeth.
"i'm not in love." he grimaced, venomous anger bubbling to the surface.
"she's just there all the fucking time! always fucking doing girlfriend-y shit when she knows damn well she's not! always clinging and trying to cuddle and all that stupid sappy shit. she's just an annoying fuckin' habit ive learned to tolerate." he spat.
you froze.
what?
was he serious? like, really, truly, deadass serious? you knew he wasn't exactly the super affectionate type, but even still! you thought he really cared about you! clingy? annoying? tolerated?
your head spun as you broke out into a cold sweat. you could've sworn that that wasn't true. you and katsuki have been friends forever. surely he wouldve gotten rid of you by now if he hated you that much, right? and he cuddles you! and hangs out with you! he takes care of you when you're sick! there's just no way, right? he's just angry because he's being teased, right?
..right?
"damn, dude, that's pretty harsh," sero snickered. "you always take care of her, though, no?"
you held your breath.
"tch. doesn't fuckin' mean shit. just gotten used to her because she's been around so long."
your stomach dropped to the basement. he tolerated you. he thought of you as nothing more than an annoying habit.
insecurity pooled inside of you. now that you think about it, was he really cuddling you, or just not bothering to move you off when you laid on him? maybe he just thought you were too much of a hassle to get rid of when you came to hangout, so he just let you stay even thought he didn't want to. when he brought you medicine and stuff, maybe your sickness made you delirious and made you think he was being more affectionate and caring than he really was.
you felt nauseated. you recall all the times you threw a quick "i love you!" over your shoulder or while you clung to him. had he ever once said it back? ever? the room started spinning as you realized you couldn't think of a single time. he'd always deflected. gave you a classic "tch." rolled his eyes. messed up your hair. you dont think you'd ever even heard the word "love" from his lips.
had you just been deluding yourself all this time?
you couldn't take it anymore. sweating, you sprinted out before you could be spotted.
-
it's been two days since you overheard that conversation, and you'd been avoiding katsuki ever since. or rather, not quite avoiding completely, but there was an undeniable shift in your behavior. you stopped trying to cuddle with him. you stopped showing up to his dorm room to hangout. you especially stopped saying "i love you," even though it killed you every time.
katsuki hadn't shown much of a reaction to your change in behavior. he'd raise an eyebrow when your usual daily hugs disappeared or ask a gruff, "where were you?" when you didn't show up to your unofficial but completely established after school hangouts, but he had otherwise put up no protest.
you didn't know whether to be relieved or heartbroken.
on one hand, katsuki's kind of scary when he's confrontational. also, you don't know how you would be able to talk to him. "i overheard a conversation where you said you hate me but im madly in love with you and want to marry you and have your kids?" yeah right. you were sort of glad to be getting off easy.
but on the other hand, you were devastated. his apathy served as further confirmation that he meant every word he said. he really didn't mind that you were pulling back, and seemed perfectly content not being nearly as close as before.
you really had been deluding yourself. secretly, you had been hoping that he was just saying stuff in the heat of the moment and would actually be upset if you pulled back. because that would mean he cared. but he didn't give two shits about you. you really were just some stupid childhood habit he'd learned to tolerate.
you became less energetic as a person. not just with katsuki, but simply in general. your days seemed unbearably longer and darker without him. you had a hard time engaging and staying in the present, your mind wandering to katsuki again and again. it was pathetic, really. you two had never even dated. why were you so hung up about it? you two were just friends, and in fact, it seemed like he never even liked you in the first place. you were just stupidly hopeful and naive.
-
katsuki was dying.
two days. it had been two fucking days since you'd touched him or even just been remotely affectionate with him and he was going crazy. hell, he'd give the whole damn world even for just a smile at this point. he was desperate.
he didnt understand why you were being like this. it was like everything he knew about you had shifted, and he was just standing there, waiting for some kind of sign or something like an idiot.
katsuki had noticed the shift in your behavior immediately. of course he did. he knows you better than he knows himself, after all. at first, he thought you were just playing some dumb game or pulling some stunt to get his attention, but that wasnāt it. you waved instead of hugging. said a simple "bye" instead of "love you, bye bye!" it's not like you were completely avoiding him. you still talked. you still laughed. only now, it didn't quite reach your eyes.
and it was fucking killing him.
he hated that you were pulling back. he hated how off everything felt. he hated how fucking empty his dorm room felt when you weren't there to pester him. but most of all, he hated how he couldnāt even figure out what he'd done wrong. he couldn't think of any fights or reasons to be angry, but if that wasn't it, what was it? why were you suddenly just.. leaving?
he wanted to confront you. he wanted to pull you aside and demand to know where the fuck you went. but for the first time in his entire life, he didn't know how. because this wasn't like confronting stupid deku about his new powers. it wasn't about asking icyhot what his fuckin' deal was. it was you. his whole fucking world, even if he never said it out loud. he was nothing short of terrified to ask, because he feared it would drive you away even further, and he couldn't think of any alternate universe where he'd be able to handle that.
he found himself looking for excuses to be near you, to talk to you, to just be around you in any way possible. the last two days had been a torture of silence, of missed chances to sit next to you or casually reach out and tug you into his space like he used to. the times when heād shove his arm around your shoulders or playfully mess with your hair, it had all stopped. he didn't feel like he could anymore. like he'd somehow lost the privilege. and now, all he was left with was this gnawing feeling in his gut that something was horribly wrong.
he had finally worked up the courage and tried asking you once, but you had shut him down with that all-too-familiar "nothing, just tired" bullshit and that damn closed-off look on your face that made him feel completely hollowed out.
he was desperate. he needed to feel you. needed to hear your bright laughter and see your stupid smile. it was so fucking stupid and sappy and so unlike him, but he couldn't even bring himself to care about that. he needed to cuddle with you until you fell asleep. have you curl up on his chest and get swallowed up by his much larger frame and watch you as your breathing quickly evened out from his touch. you could never stay awake long when cuddling with him. he found himself smiling at the thought.
he scowled. this is so fucking stupid. he thought to himself.
-
it all came to a bubbling point for him on friday. 5 whole days of "hi's" and a half-smile instead of "KATSUKIIIII's," and a running hug. he was losing his fucking mind.
usually, you convinced him to join the weekly 1a movie night by taking his hand and dragging him out of his room. he'd grumble about it, but he'd never refuse. he'd sit on the corner of the couch and you'd sit close to him before gradually inching closer, the night ending with you two cuddling. now, he willingly trudges to movie night of his own free will and sits in the same corner of the couch, but this time alone.
the room buzzed with quiet chatter and the flicker of the TV as the opening credits rolled and iida turned the lights off. it was some dumb romcom movie katsuki couldn't bring himself to care about in the slightest. you would definitely like it, though. kirishima passed around popcorn, sero argued with kaminari over which movie was the best, deku was doing his stupid nerd rambling as todoroki and hagakure gawked at him. and you? you sat on the other end of the couch.
not just away, but awayĀ from him.
the usual spot right beside katsuki, practically in his lap, head on his shoulder, knees draped over his thighs sat empty. you sat next to mina instead, curling into the armrest and pulling your legs up to your chest. you offered sweet smiles to everyone, laughed when something was funny, made conversation when prompted. but katsuki saw it. he sawĀ you.
and he saw that you werenātĀ you.
he stared.
throughout the entire first half of the movie, he barely processed a single second of it. he kept looking over, waiting for you to glance at him, to shift closer, to give him a sign,Ā anything, but you stayed curled in on yourself, legs angled away from him. he hated it. he hated how you looked like you were trying to make yourself smaller. like you were trying to disappear.
katsukiās heart thundered. his leg bounced impatiently. his jaw was tight. he couldnāt take this shit anymore.
he stood up abruptly, catching your attention. he stalked straight over to you, jaw clenched and shoulders tense. he hovered over you, looking down and saying nothing.
you blinked up at him. "...what?"
his eyes were sharp and unreadable to most. but to you, who knew him better than he knew himself, you could see the anxiety and desperation swimming in his eyes.
no, no, no. remember, don't delude yourself. he doesn't like you, not even as a friend.
"are you okay..?"
"no." he snapped, his tone making you flinch. he softened at your reaction. "i just.. you've been.." he started, but his tone cracked, eyes flashing, and something in him snapped. "fuckinā hell, justā"
he reached down andĀ grabbed you.
gently, but with zero room for argument. strong arms slid under your knees and behind your back like it was the most natural thing in the world, and you barely had time to yelp before he was sitting down again, withĀ youĀ inĀ hisĀ lap, pulled tight into his chest like you were his lifeline. (you are)
you froze, wide-eyed and stiff, but he just held you. his arms locked around you. he didnāt look at anyone else, didnāt give a shit about the stares or the knowing grins. he buried his face in your shoulder, muttering low and rough into your neck.
"i don't know what the fuck i did," he said. "but you don't get to just... take all that away. not from me."
you blinked, suddenly breathless.
he held you tighter. his voice cracked again, this time softer. "whatever i did, 'm sorry. i'll make it up t'ya, i swear. but don't just.." his voice trailed off. "dont stop loving me." he wanted to scream.
you felt your heart stutter, but you didn't say anything.
not at first, anyway.
because what is there to say when your heart is lodged in your throat and your body is caged in the arms of the person you swore you were going to get over?
you just sat there, crumpled in his lap like some lost puppy that finally found its way home again. your face is pressed into his shoulder, and you think if you speak, youāll cry. so you don't. you just let yourself relax and melt into him.
he doesnāt say anything else either. his grip doesnāt loosen, not even a little. his fingers press into your back, not hard, just steady. grounding. enough to keep you pressed firmly against him. like heās trying to convince himself youāre real.
the roomās still noisy with all the side conversations, but it's all background noise now with you two just in your little bubble away from the rest of the world. you feel safe and like youāre about to fall apart at the same time.
you shift a little in his lap and glance up at him.
āā¦you didnāt have to drag me across the room, you know,ā you finally mutter, voice hoarse.
he scoffs, eyes flicking down to meet yours. āyeah, well. you werenāt cominā on your own.ā
you wrinkle your nose at him. āyou couldāve asked.ā
āwhatever." he grumbles. "this is more efficient."
you snort. "the hell?"
he shrugs, completely unapologetic. āworked, didnāt it?ā
you donāt answer. because yeah. it did.
instead, you rest your head back on his chest, and he immediately shifts to accommodate you. your legs drape over the couch, his arm hooked under your knees to keep you anchored, and his other hand settled at the base of your spine. he starts tracing slow, absentminded circles there, hand slipped under your hoodie to rub at the bare skin like nothing had ever changed. like you hadnāt just gone five whole days without touching him. like you hadnāt spent those five days trying to unravel every version of reality where he didnāt love you back.
you sit like that for a long time.
finally, he speaks up, his voice low.
"what did i do?" he asked, his voice oddly shy. "why'd ya stop.. you know..?"
your breath hitches. because you do know. but you don't know what to say or how to say it. "i thought you completely hated me" doesn't quite seem like an appropriate response.
"nothing," you settle with.
he gives you a look.
you sigh. you never could lie to katsuki. he's known you for too long and too well to fall for them.
"i just.. got insecure. overheard some conversation where you said i was, um, clingy and annoying." you murmur, your voice small. if katsuki wasn't pressed up against you and hanging on to your every word, he wouldn't have been able to catch it.
but he did.
and you swore you saw complete heartbreak in his eyes.
you let out a small gasp of surprise when he pulls you flush against him, arms tight around your body and face nuzzled deep into your neck. he holds you with such a gentle intensity you think you might cry. he holds you in a way that makes you feel loved and safe.
"'m sorry." he mumbles into your neck, voice watery. "didn't mean it. i was just.. mad that they were makin' fun of me. none of it was true. at all."
your breath hitches.
"you're.. so fuckin' special to me. i mean it. these last few days without you have been hell."
you think you might cry.
"been missin' your fuckin' smile and your damn laugh. and your stupid hugs that make me almost topple over."
you hold back a giggle.
"i love you."
the world stills.
you donāt move.
you donāt speak.
hell, you're scared to breathe.
your heart is beating so loud youāre worried he might hear it. your face is burning, your lungs feel tight, and your throatās a warzone of words you canāt quite say.
he said it.
heĀ said it.
and now heās quiet. breathing you in. arms wrapped around you like youāre something precious. like heās afraid youāll vanish if he lets go.
you pull back just enough to look at him. your hand comes up to brush his bangs from his eyes, and your fingers linger at his temple, trailing down his cheek like youāre memorizing him.
his expression is soft in a way you rarely get to see. wide-eyed. hopeful. a little scared.
you offer him a tiny, quiet smile.
no teasing.
no trying to be brave or play it all off.
just soft. honest. the kind that only he gets to see.
you lift your hand and touch his face. not dramatic, not shaky, just steady. fingers brushing along his cheekbone, thumb ghosting over the edge of his jaw like youāre memorizing the shape of him again.
his eyes close for a second and you swear you see him leaning into it a little.
you say nothing.
you donāt need to.
because youāre here. because heās holding you. because youāre not pulling away, and he's pulling you in.
you nuzzle your face into his neck, like it's right where you belong, and you breathe in.
he breathes in too.
slow. like the worldās stopped spinning for a second just so you can exist like this, tangled up in each other without saying anything. no talking about what's going on, no complications, just.. being.
you both don't notice how mina and kirishima are gossiping wildly about how you two are practically married and wondering how you still claim not to be dating. you don't notice the way that ochaco squeals after glancing over at your position, and you don't notice the way izuku looks fondly at you two with soft eyes. (he's been shipping the two of you since childhood)
you and katsuki are the only two people in the world who matter.
"i love you," you whisper as you feel yourself dozing off.
you think you feel his lips press gently against your forehead.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
ā Live Streamingā Interactive Chatā Private Showsā HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
all the articles that hypothesise like hmmm we may have evolved to be ticklish as a means of defending our vital spots š¤š§ make me giggle. donāt they know that we evolved to be ticklish because itās hot and makes you cum
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
ā Live Streamingā Interactive Chatā Private Showsā HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
Covet Summary: Life was good. No, life was great.Ā Was.Ā Until. Jake Kiszka crashed into the picture. You welcomed him into your lifeāyour home.Ā Yes, he was your best friendās 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.Ā Jake Kiszka came with so much youĀ reallyĀ didnāt want. At least thatās what you tried to convince yourself.
Warnings: MINORS DNI (18+); angst; tension; recollected memories of traumatic situations; memories of very self-destructive coping mechanisms used by a teenager; crying + feelings of sadness; self deprecation/worries of being a bad mother; mentions of a (very) toxic and absent mother; vivid memories of sexual encounters; body changes as a result of pregnancy; talks of baby + pregnancy; jealous!reader; possessive!jake; pregnancy hormones of multiple variety; INFIDELITY; (intense) phone sex; self-pleasure m!receiving; self-pleasure f!receiving; loooots of dirty talk that is absolutely 18+ (!!!!); elsie + josh being our voices; mentions/talk of being unable to have children; evil evil evil inner monologue via maya (i'm sorry - it had to happen); (((yes she's just as dreadful on the inside as you'd think))); massive amounts of (very negative + hateful) manipulation; BABY KICKS <3333; PLEASE lmk if i missed anything that is triggering to you!)
Chapter 12 (Part 3) Word Count: 47.6k+ (......um. yeah.... about that....)
a/n: ok. so. yeah. wednesday obviously hadn't been ~~the day~~ LMFAO. dear lord. IM V SORRY I AM ME <3 but, fr, has anyone on here ever struggled w migraines? how about w a brain stem aura? they last for days and make you move very slow + put you out of commission !!!! so fun !!!!
in all reality, this was supposed to be edited + uploaded in december... but, life.
i love you all and welcome to the delicious, official mid-point of this monstrous series <3 every single one of you mean the world to me. i hope you know that you reading and commenting and liking and messaging brings THE utmost joy to this woman's fragile heart :') thank u, my sweet loves. we're in this together. <3 "until the very end"
btw: these next few chapters will pick up right where the previous leaves off... that includes this one :)
as always, massive 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 - forever + ever. <3 additionally, a BIG OL thank u to @builtbybrokenbells. you are a queen whose throne is one to be bowed at. always. you'll never understand just how much your help + friendship means to me... in this silly story, other stories, and in LIFE. ily more, canadian me <3 an ever-present thanks to my girl @alwaysonthemend. Thank you, my love, for always being just around the corner when i need you. you're a personal favorite of mine + you know this <3 and finally, an ode to my wonderful pal @gretavangroupie... for helping me in the final revisions and edits when i release my cry for help. you are a true friend + i hope you know how much i appreciate u <3
Please enjoy the playlist as you read š¤ (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.)
Specific songs that accompany this chapter: āWe Might Even Be Falling In Loveā ā Victoria Monet ft. Bryson Tiller; āWe Might Even Be Falling In Love/Jaguarā ā Victoria Monet + co. (orchestral arrangement); āMerry Christmas Babyā ā Booker T. & the M.G.ās
Covet Masterlist
"We are ever striving after what is forbidden... and coveting what is denied us."
Ovid
December 23, 2022
After a short five hours of work, Elsie had been there at 8:00 on the dot to pick you up.Ā
Although, when sheād arrived, youād still been checking out a few regular customers whoād stayed a little too close to closing time. Last minute Christmas shopping, of course. There was no way you were going to rush the customers. Youād even told Elsie sheād have to wait a bit. You cared for these regulars dearly, so youād chosen to take your time. They were special to you and you were grateful to be able to wish them all a 'Happy Holidays'.Ā
You really appreciated the extra time catching up with these people. And almost all of them were dying to know how your pregnancy was faring and you didnāt hesitate on filling them in and showing them the sonogram pictures on your phone. It meant a lot to you that these sweet people cared so much. Theyād made up so many of your working days for the past four years, permanently creating a home in your heart.Ā
And, the last of the stragglers had been none other than little brown-haired Stacy. The high school girl you and Josh and taken a liking to instantly ā ironically, both of you being on the clock the first day sheād entered the store. She was a tender soul. A thin girl with freckles covering her heart-shaped face with glasses, just a smidgen too big for her petite features. Every pair she got, oversized in comparison to her slimness. Even as the other customers exited the store with one more āMerry Christmas, y/n!ā, sheād continued to pick through bins.Ā
But, by the way sheād hunched over as soon as the bell had chimed to indicate the others' departure, you knew something wasnāt right. And then sheād rubbed at her eyes, making your heart break in your chest. You assumed she needed more time, hence her looking past the very last minute. Though, knowing the kind hearted girl like the back of your hand after knowing her for so long, you knew she felt bad for needing more time. So, youād urged her to continue browsing. There was an innate need in your chest to make sure she was okay and wasnāt hurting any longer. You needed her to be okay. Especially this close to Christmas.
āStacy, just hang around for a bit and keep looking,ā you gently spurred her to not give up yet. āTake your time. I have plans with Josh and my sister, but those arenāt for another hour or so. You have time.ā
āButāyouāre pregnant, y/n. You need to be off your feet. You need to leave,ā she tried, making her way to the front without anything in hand. Her shoulders, sunken and her posture telling that she definitely hadnāt been successful in her search for vinyl. āItās not your fault I got off work so late, y/n. You need to rest for the baby.ā
āThe baby is fine,ā you encouraged her with a gentle smile and a raised brow, making your way over, hands stuffed in the front pocket of Jake's hoodie to fight the cold air seeping into the older store on the chilly evening. Just as sheād made it to the door to leave, you met her there. Bringing one hand out of the pocket, you put a hand on her bicep, you spoke to her as she turned to face you. āSeriously. All is well, nice, and cozy in there and I didnāt even get here until late afternoon. Iām fine. The baby is fine. Now you need to be fine.ā
She nipped at her bottom lip with worry, timidly glancing up at you. āAre you sure?ā Yet, even after you nodded, she continued. āBecause itās also not your fault that the Black and Gold is closed tomorrow and the next day is Christmas, so why would you guys be opened on Christmas?" She said it all so fast, you knew she was on the verge of having a break down. You'd been there. "I should have planned better, y/n. Iām just really stressed right now and Iā.ā
āStacy,ā you interrupted her, placing a hand on each of her shoulders to squeeze them in reassurance. āIt is o-kay, sister. Plus, if it makes you feel any better, we do have chairs behind the desk. If I need to sit, I can. You only have tonight to find your vinyls.āĀ
Even through her glasses, you could see the tears beginning to glass over her eyes. āThank you, y/n. I owe you.ā
āNo you donāt, silly,ā you giggled, giving her shoulders one more measured press before you texted Elsie a quick explanation. Then, pocketing your phone, you were moving down the aisles of bins in an effort to help her. āBut, while we look. . . I did want to know how the college hunt is going. Also, what exactly is it we are looking for?ā
After she told you the records, you immediately began to help her. You knew exactly where to find a few of them, so you instantly went to do that for her as she began to tell you about her school findings.Ā
Stacy was right up there with the regulars who had preceded her in line ā a little more so, if you were being honest. She was set to graduate high school in May, when you were set to graduate college yourself. So frequently when sheād visited the store in recent months, youād asked her how college searching was going. You knew that finding the perfect school was important to the girl, just as it had been to you. Your decision had been easy, though, as your heart had always naturally longed to follow in Elsieās footsteps.
And, yes, while you and Josh both had taken an instant liking to Stacy as soon as sheād started coming into the B&G a couple years prior. . . it was different for you. Josh loved her quirky personality ā as did you. But you found her even more special because the quiet, unsure spirit she housed reminded you so much of your own during your high school years.Ā
But. . . you hadn't always been that version of yourself. No, up until high school, you'd been the opposite.
You remembered now (with Elsie and therapyās help) how youād been chaotically fiery as a child. How, as a young girl, you easily used to become overstimulated to the point of raging aggravation. . . . But, that had (mostly) only lasted through your pre-teen years. And once youād come into your early teens, youād wanted to fucking change. Those parts of you had been ugly and humiliating and you didnāt want to identify with them ā at least back then.Ā
Youād only recently begun to recall random things from your childhood from time to time (thank you, EMDR). Thankfully, there werenāt many of the extremely triggering moments that popped up. Like the trials with your mother or a man named Mr. Morgan. Nothing too scary intruded during your day-to-day. . .
No, it was the āeasierā stuff from your childhood that came to mind; whether it be in dreams or randomly as you completed mundane tasks. These recollections were of little things youād done to yourself growing up that had permanently scarred you. It had become obvious that you used to be very self aware. Youād felt too self aware back then, actually.Ā
A lot like Stacy seemed. Self aware. But yours had been rather negative, where hers seemed more positive, most of the time.Ā
In all fairness, you hadnāt even known what the words āself awareā meant until a school counselor, Mrs. Reams ā with curly, graying hair and ready to retire ā had droned on at you. The āself awarenessā had felt stifling and gloomy and never ending. Like a massive thundering, swaying hurricane you were stuck in ā desperate to cling to the eye of it. But the eye of your storm had always been just out of reach.Ā
Admittedly, it was a lot for a kid ā especially a traumatized one. So, at thirteen years old, youād decided enough was enough.Ā
Youād taken what you assumed were āproper stepsā and had sat after school for an entire week with good āol Mrs. Reams. All in an effort to learn what she had called ācoping mechanisms.ā Again, you hadnāt understood that term either ā until sheād referred to them as 'skills learned to adapt and survive'. Then, the wrinkly woman had explained some examples (explained them rather poorly, you might add). And after meeting with Mrs. Reams, youād even gone so far as to use your Grandpaās laptop to further search for ways to ācope.āĀ
The idea of āforgetting thingsā had been one way in particular that had gotten your attention ā when itād fallen from Mrs. Reamsā skinny, flimsy lips. āMemory suppression,ā sheād recited, monotone. There had been a pamphlet and everything that sheād handed you. One picture had caught your eye of a teen girl. She was crying and sitting on the floor, with her head trapped between her arms.Ā
āWhat does it do?ā
āItās a way of forcing the traumatic memories to the back of your mind,ā sheād replied, already standing to gather her things as youād sat on the couch. Unmoving, still considering the conversation to be only midway through.Ā
But, when Mrs. Reams had turned off her lamp, youād gotten the hint. Time to leave. . .
That was when the search had officially begun, though . . . With Grandpaās laptop. The hours and days worth of research youād done to forget things. (It was important to note that you'd never failed to clear the browser history, lest he tell your Grandma his search history out of worry. And the possibility of them both confronting you with smothering, misplaced love and care. . . It was not what you'd wanted).Ā
āMemory Suppressionā was your goal, so those were the words youād typed into Google. Over and over again. (āMemory Replacement was a term youād seen in your hours of time researching. And that had been the easier term to comprehend for your thirteen year old mind). Those blue, underlined letters on Googleās search results had never looked as pretty as they had on that first rainy afternoon in April. A couple days after your meeting with Reams - the perfect opportunity to use the laptop. Your grandparents and Elsie, having been gone for one of Elsieās track meets. Youād claimed you had ātoo much homeworkā to go.Ā
And so the process had begun. . . āMemory Suppressionā . . . a helpful friend and your worst enemy wrapped totally in one. An intense and slightly subtle form of self harm, in the end. The hours of time researching, leaving you ill-informed. Your teenage mind had been (understandably) incapable of truly wrapping around the concept well enough to complete the skills healthily.Ā
There had been ways that youād literally transformed yourself to the point of a sort of internal mutilation. Youād succeeded in tying yourself in such tight, tricky knots that you were now, as an adult, tangled and confused. And, essentially, you were now void of incredibly essential memories that you needed to remember in order to heal.Ā
Youād found a lot of strategies. Many of these strategies to complete the process of suppressing memories had required a lot of time spent alone. So, usually late at night (or into the earliest hours of the morning) when everyone was asleep, youād lock your bedroom door. Once it was locked, youād shut off all of your lights to feel utterly isolated. And, for an hour and a half, night after night you had sat there and forced yourself to feel, feel, feel and block, block, block. Knees, hugged tight to your chest. For an entire year.
Youād timed yourself every night and everything. Youād obsessively cared about getting your ātimeā in. That grueling, horrid timeĀ had been spent unhealthily blocking out the known, problematic times in your past. Youād altered the āfight or flightā traits by convincing yourself that the times youād spent learning them had never actually happened. It was all relative to preteen y/n. After a while, there had even come this dark voice thatād begun to enter your mind amidst the changes. And, the voice hadnāt ever truly left ā accompanying you into adulthood. Narrated your every move.
This voice had been yet another unhealthy coping mechanism that your immature mind had initially conjured. A classic mechanism called āSelf-Talkā ā but yours hadnāt been anywhere near what therapists recommend. It wasnāt āPositive Self-Talk.ā Your ātalkā had just been things you thought about yourself. Whether they be negative, positive, true, or false. . . Usually, the ātalkā brought with it the most hateful words and phrases you could imagine at that time about yourself ā which had been supplied in abundance. And, it had been nice in a sense. For a time.Ā
That time spent in the darkest and most demoralizing solitude had worked wonders for you as a teenager. And, after one particularly āsuccessfulā night, where youād awoken in the morning and felt more dazed than traumatized, you wanted to tell someone. Figuring Mrs. Reams was the ideal candidate (being that sheād been the one to give you the initial push), you wanted to tell her.Ā
So, after a class, when youād passed the counselor in the hallway, youād found that as the perfect opportunity. . . . Only for her to mix you up with a completely different student all together. Referred to a 'dead dog' and a 'father with an ailing illness'. . . But, absolutely nothing to do with anything youād told her or talked with her about.Ā
And then when sheād called you by the wrong name, youād known for sure. She had forgotten about you. You werenāt important to her. She didnāt give two shits. Her blatant ignorance when it came to you was another fun tidbit youād added to your pile of āreasonsā you had issues. Trust was shaky as fuck - even with people like counselors that you were supposed to trust the most. And that incident had caught you in the tresses of already learning new (bad) coping skills. So, youād tacked on the idea that trusting people was bullshit unless they earned it. Your mom had begun this idea, and then Reams had really nailed it into the coffin.
The fact that it had hurt so badly, but hurt less than other memories meant you could really use it, though. So, that you did. After school, youād sat in your car and effectively sobbed over the ordeal. All your life, people had just continued to prove why you couldnāt trust anyoneās genuinity besides your familyās (grandparents and Elsie only, until Josh).Ā
Thankfully, that day, no one had witnessed the breakdown. Elsie hadnāt ridden home with you, thanks to a track meet. And, luckily your grandparents had never missed her track meets or your choir events.Ā So, youād had the entire evening to yourself. Yet again. Youād taken a long, sad shower and sobbed over the joke that was your life. Youād sat on the floor of the tub and lamented over how little youād seemed to matter. Time and again.Ā
But, after a few fat and ugly tears, youād gotten an idea. Which was: taking advantage of the newer and less traumatic sadness. You could use the counselor forgetting about you. Turn the event around to suffocate some darker moments from your dingy, messy past. It was a brand new, fresh wound, right at the front of your mind, that you could use to cover a repulsive, red, unhealed scar.Ā
It had still hurt like fucking hell to drag out the traumatic shit in order to cover it with new, painful shit. None of the process had been easy or fun. Itād hurt like a bitch. The entire time, youād given yourself plenty of additional issues to sort through by doing it to yourself. Though, youād clung onto it back then. Survival mode. And youād continued to use the strategy.Ā . . Forgetting the devastating things and forcing 'normal' life events to 'erase' horrendous, not-so-normal occasions. All of the bullshit method, used to cover the reality of why you were doing it in the first place. . . And, really. It had worked.
Hence why you always got especially angry or sad or scared with newer situations. . . It was all finally making sense as things came back to you.Ā You were just paying the consequences now by not knowing how to handle your emotions as an adult.
āI found the other two!ā Stacy squealed two rows over from you. Her excitement, breaking you from your apparent reverie.Ā
It was funny how therapy was truly assisting you in remembering so much of this shit. All of the pieces were clicking together and occasionally left you stunned. But the the feeling was getting a little easier to come out of everyday.Ā . . Thankfully.
You looked over to where the younger girl was, in the country music section. A part of the store you, admittedly, did not look at very often. You hadnāt been able to be much help in that area. However, the three blues records youād put yourself in charge of had been safely secured within a couple of minutes. āAnd I found the others,ā you replied with a giggle, grounding yourself with the now. The present time. Centered yourself in the Black and Gold ā in your current plans with Josh and Elsie.Ā
Your stomach rumbled on your way down the record aisle and you were very rapidly realizing how long it had been since youād eaten. You really were hungry as fuck. And if you werenāt happy about that, you knew for sure that Lavender wasnāt happy about it. You didnāt want to kick Stacy out, but it was past 8:30. You saw as much when you slid open your lockscreen to your texts.Ā
Two new ones from Els. Fucking Do Not Disturb. You continued to succeed in not checking your thread with Jake, pressing Elsieās contact in your pinned as soon as you opened your texts.
Elsie, 8:33 p.m.: š§āāļø
Elsie, 8:35 p.m.: Y/n. Seriously. Come the fuck on. Weāve got plans in like 45 minutes. šš»šš»šš»š ALSO, we still need to get your pictures taken before dinner. Donāt forget you wanted to do that. We planned that. You NEED TO do that shit. Trust me, bitch. š®āšØš¤¤š
You laughed outright at her texts. She was so fucking funny. But ā she was right. You had plans and you did still want to take those pictures. Badly. The idea of posting something like youād found on Pinterest, so electrifying. . . There were butterflies in your tummy just thinking of it.
And now that Stacy was smiling again and making conversation like normal as you made your way to her, you were very ready to leave.
Walking over to her, records cradled in one arm to your chest while the other held your tummy, you smiled down at the small brunette and asked a question you hoped sheād answer with a āyesā. āYou ready?ā
And to your delight, the answer was exactly as youād wished.
After some conversation and contemplation with Elsie, sheād come up with the idea that you should make an actual post with its own picture and a story post with another picture.Ā
āClose Friends only, perhaps?ā Sheād thrown out into the universe.Ā And at that, youād just snorted with a āmaybe, weirdo.āĀ
Sheād continued to brainstorm it all with you as you took a shower to rinse your body. With the cold weather you had seriously wanted it. Your muscles already hurt all the time nowadays, and the chilliness outside did not help matters. Yet, when youād gotten into the shower, youād caught a glimpse of the vibrator that had started it all, not even twenty four hours ago. . . And, unfortunately, at the exact same moment you saw it, Elsie wasnāt there as a distraction from the memories. She had gone to grab something sheād forgotten from the car.Ā
Thankfully, though, the warm water felt so nice against your skin that it helped you refocus. You hardly even thought about the night before with Jake. . . and Elsie didnāt take too long to return. And talking to her was the exact cure you needed for all of it. As you showered, she was busy looking at the Pinterest board youād created at the nail salon, having added her as a collaborator while you were at work.Ā
āOh. . . I like this,ā she commented from the other side of the curtain from her spot on top of the toilet seat.Ā
āWhich one?ā You asked as you rinsed shampoo through your hair for the first step of rinse and repeat.Ā
āThe comparison picture? Like, one of your flat, pre-baby tummy with a comparison to your tummy now? Black and white?āĀ
āOh, yes. I think Iām sold on that one for sure,ā you replied as you began to lather your hair for the second and final time. āI loved that one. I actually already found a picture to use with it during a lull period on my shift.ā
Ironically, the picture youād settled on was tied to a rather memorable day.Ā It was one of you in your all-black bikini. Youād taken it before heading to the AirBnB the day youād fucked Jake in the pool. It was your favorite. Your go-to swimsuit. And that morning, when youād put it on, the confidence had been plentiful. . . That swimsuit in particular had always worked wonders at helping you feel sexy. There were the smallest pieces of lace that extended from the hems to cover the outer curves of your ass and cleavage.Ā . . And it had led to a quite wonderful moment of your bikini-clad body riding Jake's as you'd made out on your bed.
And, then, of course. . . the pool. The pool had been the greatest reward.
āPhoneās on the counter. I favorited it. Go to my favorites,ā you added, starting your conditioner.
Not one to pass up the opportunity to snoop through your phone, your curly haired sister seemed to immediately locate the photo youād found. Or, you assumed at least, with the wolf whistling beyond the shower curtain. She wasted no time complimenting you with her words next. āDamn, sis! I see you! Fuckinā hot ass.ā
As she surveyed the picture, she explained that in order to fulfill the aesthetic aspect of the photo comparison, you had to incorporate the same colors in the new photo. So, again, all black. You were glad ā it made your options very attractive.Ā
āSure. That will look amazing. But. . . Why donāt you put on the swimsuit again?ā She wondered aloud, humming the melody to a Sam Cooke song that you couldnāt name off the top of your head. (Your mind was busy shuffling through nerves in anticipation of the pictures. . . How would you do your hair? Just blow dry? Didnāt want to go all out. . .) āWearing the same thing could make for an even more aesthetically pleasing side by side.ā
āElsie. No,ā you shook your hair out under the stream of water in the shower, rubbing your fingers through to get all of the conditioner washed out. Then you grabbed some sugar scrub for your arms and legs. Might as well exfoliate. āI donāt want to take a picture wearing a bikini in the middle of December. That would look ridiculous,ā youād replied, telling only half of the truth. But, you decided to tack on the extra little bit. No use lying about it. āAnd I also donāt really feel like putting that swimsuit on again. Memories associated with it and shit.ā
āJake?ā
āYes.ā
āNiiiice,ā she slyly answered before her phone pinged to inform her of a new text. You rolled your eyes at her response, grinning to yourself at the memory.Ā
āJosh will be here in like fifteen,ā your sister alerted you before she let out a groan of irritation. āHeās actually running on time for once ā the singular time I am not. I fucking swear, y/n. . . I love him more than anything, but his issue with promptness makes me want to scream.āĀ
You snorted at that, finishing your body washing a bit hastier due to his near arrival. And before you knew it, you were done and pulling the curtain open. She was already waiting, hand extended with the first of two towels you'd set out.Ā
āHe has always been like that, Els,ā you giggled, wrapping your hair in the towel, holding your hand out for the other that she was already handing your way. Both of you were two-towel believers. One for hair, one for body. Almost always. . . last night not being one of those times. . . Far more important matters had been at hand than the thorough drying of your hair a second towel could do. āIām afraid there is no changing him. . . . And you knew that about him before you got together, so I have no sympathy."
She only hummed in annoyance, before she was continuing on with your conversation, nails tapping against her screen.Ā āAnyways. . . the other picture. . . For your story,ā she cleared her throat. The noise gained your attention, looking over at her as you wrapped your body in the towel, pulling it to tuck under your arms. She was showing you the other picture youād chosen for inspiration. The sexy one from the nail salon. Butterflies went batshit in your tummy. This was the one you were most excited to take. You didnāt have anything picked out for it, but you figured the black bra would do. . .Ā some black underwear to accompany.Ā
And, of course, his shirt. Was it too daring? Over-confident? Did you care? For once, you really didnāt. Not with last night still playing on a loop in the back of your mind.Ā
She pulled the phone back to herself, fingers sliding on the screen to indicate she was texting, but she kept on helping you all the while, continuing to speak. āThe sexier one. . . Do you mentally have something picked out for that already?ā
You went about toothpasting your toothbrush as she continued to zone in on her phone screen. āMaybe. . . Iāll probably just use the same black bra as the other one,ā youād said, as you brought the toothbrush up, preparing to brush as you looked up at her through the mirror, where she stood behind you now. She was taking turns watching you and checking her phone. āIām gonna brush. Wanna go figure out lighting?āĀ
āOh, lighting? Sister. . . Iām impressed by your determination to get these photos just right. . . .ā she raised an eyebrow at you. āWhat gives?ā
āIām a horny ass pregnant woman who is finally feeling sexy, Elsie. Thatās what gives.ā
Her only response was laughter as she opened the door to the bathroom, closing it behind her on her way out to begin her task.
There were no words for the black, lacy set.
All you knew was that it was fucking gorgeous. Stunning. Sexy as fuck. Everything you wanted and more for the photo. It was laid out and awaiting your body, on your bed, as your roomās lighting accentuated the allure of the black, lacy, sheer piece.Ā
Along with the lingerie, you'd come to find your room all ready after youād finally finished in the bathroom. And, Elsieās Victoriaās Secret surprise had been laid out for you on your bed, the little pink bag sitting beside it. Sheād assured you of a few things as sheād taken in your reaction, her face resembling the Cheshire cat. In her words, the lingerie was ānot part of your Christmasā since sheād āalready gotten you enough shit.ā Ā She, instead, insisted you call it her ādonation to assist in getting your ass fucking laidā.Ā
Youād rolled your eyes at the last part, but still said thank you because there was simply nothing else to say. Sheād also laid out the makeup she felt was best for the pictures (youād always trusted her makeup advice and she knew it). Your hair was already done, blow dried and brushed through exquisitely, shiny and cascading beautifully down your back. Els had even lit candles, adding to the darker, enticing vibe you were going for. . . Not so dark that youād be a silhouette. Not even close, actually. The lamp next to your bedside and the tall one sheād brought in from the living room (that sheād already promised to āput backā), added to the multiple candlesā lighting in the most erotic way.Ā
You were going to be bathed in a golden hue as the room around you was dimmed and mysterious. The theme of the photos was something you were sure would turn Jake on. And, as much as you didnāt want him to be the sole reason you were taking these (it wasnāt), it had been a big motivation to get your makeup on and get the pictures taken. The voice in the back of your head was telling you to stop thinking of him and his reaction, for fear that he might not react at all. Might see it and ignore it. No sign that heād seen anything aside from his name popping up on the list of people whoād seen your story.Ā
āThis is going to have to be a Close Friends story,ā youād emphasized, giggling as youād toyed with the piece laying on the bed once more before you'd gone to begin your āno-makeup makeupā look.
Now, your makeup was almost completely done. And Josh was apparently pulling up with coffee for Elsie and a hot chocolate for you.
āI thought he was going to be here like twenty-some minutes ago?ā Youād asked, genuinely curious as you finished the blending of your blush. Eyeing your cheeks once it was completely on, you grinned. Your complexion looked wonderful and your face was officially done. āWhyād you make him stop for damn coffee?āĀ
Now all you had left were your eyes and lips. Youād be wearing brown mascara with your lips simply shiny from lip oil.
āHow did you know I made him?ā She asked, feigning offense. All you did was level her with a stare, only seconds later she huffed. āWhatever. Iām a caffeine addict. The first step to healing is acknowledging the issue, so kiss my ass," she came up behind you and fluffed your hair once before observing your makeup with a smile. "Also, I was stalling his ass. He can work on my time for once.ā
Youād only snorted before going to finish your mascara. āShould the light be on for the first one?ā You asked, your mouth moving awkwardly as you focused on your mascara application. One more coat.Ā "And can you find me some jeans? American Eagle, please. . ."
āAbsolutely. To both,ā she replied, going to find what you trusted to be the perfect light wash jeans for you in your closet. āThe buttonās gonna be open on the jeans, right?ā She called from where she was in your miniature walk-in closet.Ā
āYes,ā you confirmed, curling your lashes once more ā just how you wanted ā with the curve of your finger. āBlack bra, light wash jeans, open button.ā
She was just coming out of your closet when you started stripping yourself of your towel before grabbing the black bra youād decided on from your underwear drawer. āLight on?ā She asked, your light wash mom jeans thrown over her arm.Ā
āYeah, go ahead. For the first one.ā
When you turned to face the mirror after getting the bra on, you got the first good look of your tits since last night. And since last night, theyād changed. Fucking hell. Pregnancy was astounding, truly. Good ways and bad alike. How the fuck could a body change so damn quickly?
You eyed your swollen chest and the blue veins that had once lurked in light, subdued tracks across your growing breasts. . . But not anymore. Subdued was a thing of the past, apparently. Because today, as you eyed yourself, you saw displeasingly prominent tracks. Dark indigo, both purple and blue in their tint, now. They trailed from beneath the cups of your bra to midway up your chest.Ā They weren't dark-dark. . .just enough that you definitely noticed a difference.
āWhy? Why today of all days? Why now?ā You lamented (admittedly dramatically) aloud, turning to the side to look from that position. And unfortunately, they were just as unattractive from that angle.
āWhatās wrong?ā Elsie responded with worry, laying your jeans on the bed as she rushed up behind you.Ā
You were facing the mirror once more when she came up behind you, concern painting her prettily petite features. Her blue eyes swam with panic. But you saw when she noticed you eyeing your breasts, bringing a hand up underneath each to see how they looked when lifted in the bra. Still horrible, you found.Ā
āDear god, y/n. I know exactly what youāre looking at. Yes, you have darker veins in your tits. Your milk supply is coming in,ā she informed you, as if you were an inept idiot. She was seeming to forget how you had spent an insane amount of time, cumulatively, doing research on all things pregnancy.Ā "I'll explain. . .See, when the milk comes in, the blood flow affects the veins in your boobies-."
āIām not a fucking child, Elsie. I know what happens and I knew that this was bound to happen. I know why itās happening,ā you explained, suddenly wanting to slap her for how much sheād annoyed you. āThe veins just donāt get this dark for every woman and I was already feeling insecure about my body last night. Thankfully, I started feeling better last night. But now? Now, Iām feeling like shit about myself again. And weāre about to take picturesā.ā
āTheyāre not even bad, y/n. And you know I'd tell you if I thought they were ug,ā she said sternly, backing up from you to grab the jeans from the bed. āI happen to think youāre overreacting.ā
āElsie, you arenāt allowed to have an opinion,ā you snapped, your chest heating with aggravation. āYouāre not the pregnant woman experiencing these obscene body changes.ā
āOkay, first of all, Iām going to pretend you didnāt tell me that. If Iām not allowed to have an opinion, I think I might die. So. . .,ā she paused, holding the jeans out to you in the reflection behind you. āJust quit looking and put these on. Iām hungry.ā
You grumbled the words back at her, dropping your heavy tits and slowly turning to face her. āBut seriously ā why in the fuck did they have to pop up today? Right before pictures?ā
āBecause your body knew it needed the additional sexy,ā she replied with a wiggle of her perfectly waxed brows, filled in just right. āJake will think itās sexy.ā
The jeans were tugged from her hands with another slight growl from your lips. Thinking about Jake seeing your now-strikingly veiny boobs was not a pleasurable thought. Your un-confronted attempts to get his attention were sure to backfire in your face. Even if you knew Jake would most likely compliment them, it wasnāt guaranteed that heād actually find them sexy. Who in their right mind would think that? She rolled her eyes at your huffing as you pulled the denim over your fat ass. Seriously, there was no winning. Veiny tits, fat ass, thicker thighs, bloated everything. . .Ā
Fuck. So much for feeling sexy enough to take these blessed pictures. You were having second thoughts. After you got your jeans on, you leveled her with a glare. Your brain was officially a mess. And the front door was opening, adding to the crashing waves that had become your brain. You could hear the slight creak of it and you heard Josh upon his entry, as he quite literally sang his arrival.Ā
āIāll be out in a second, babe!ā Elsie shouted towards the living room before sending her gaze back to you, one eyebrow raised.
She opened her mouth to speak, but you were speaking before she could get another word in. āHow in the sweet heavens are these thick, dark blue veins sexy? And how am I supposed to think Iām hot enough to take these pictures now?ā
āYouāre shitting me, right?ā She asked, grabbing your phone for you from your bed and whipping it out at you to take. Reluctantly, you grabbed it (more forcefully than you probably should have). Your eyes were still communicating discontent with it all. āOpen up your damn camera, so we can get to the good ones. Once youāre in that lingerie and getting in your thoughts about sex with your baby daddy, weāll be fine. Swear.ā
You found it so lovely that all it took was the mere mention of sex with Jake for your heart to start hammering against your rib cage. She was right. Your head was dizzy just in preparation for the thoughts. . .thinking about him to get you in the mood sounded incredible.
And at that, you were suddenly ready to take pictures. But then, you were looking back in your tall mirror at your fucking roadmaps and you werenāt ready anymore.Ā
āI donāt even want to take the first picture. How am I going to want to be all sensuaā?ā
āY/n. Shut the fuck up and quit being melodramatic,ā she insisted, bossing you in a way you (admittedly) needed. But, it didnāt mean you liked it. You snarled a lip at her, still glaring because you felt like it. āIf you keep up the attitude, little sis, Iām going to go sit in the living room with my boyfriend and force you to take these by yourself. Iām not down for your shit and you know it. So, make your choice, bitch.ā
Placing a hand on your tummy, you grounded yourself. Planted your feet. Out with the negative, y/n.
You thought about your boobs, got a good image of them in your head and imagined how, in a few months, youād be using them for someone who mattered much more than you. And the reason they were changing in the ways they were, was solely due to the little one who took precedence over anything and everybody.Ā And everybody most definitely included yourself. If you could do the multitude of other uncomfortable things you had already done for her, the least you could do was take a damn picture. You wanted the world to know of her. Everyone, ever. And that began with a post of you proudly posing with the bump that housed her.Ā
For Lavender. You could do it. For her. She was someone to be proud of in every capacity, even if for now, that was just an Instagram post.Ā
āFine,ā you moaned, turning from your sister. Her curls were seeming to stand on end with her frustration and restlessness towards you and your back and forth mental battle. āHelp me pose in this damn mirror.ā
The lace felt just as good on your body as you initially imagined it would. The insecurities had dissipated as youād continued to remind yourself of the baby girl who was thriving inside of you. She needed a mother who was proud of her, and that you were, in spite of personal insecurities. And, posing for the picture in the mirror - holding your bump - made your heart long for the moment you'd finally get to hold her in your arms. And at that, everything else simply didn't matter.
Every change on and in your body was because of her. And she was worth all of it and more.Ā
So, by the end of your āinnocentā announcement photos, you were already in a much better mindset. It had only been a few of those pictures and that one pose. Your phone, up and covering your face as you gave proper camera attention to your bump. You held the phone with the hand on the side of your body furthest from the mirror. Elsie had insisted it was a 'natural' pose and you 'keep it that way'.Ā
The said the same thing when you went to touch your belly with the palm of the other hand. You truly adored touching your baby in this way. Putting a hand to your tummy was the thing closest to holding her. You'd found, over time, you werenāt one to move your hand quickly once it was placed there.Ā Liked feeling close to her. . .
But now, you were most definitely not holding your body. No, you were focusing on the rest of your body. Youād adjusted as much was needed, but it hadnāt been a lot. The two piece set had fit your body like it was quite actually made for you.Ā The black, sheer, lacy lingerie Elsie had gifted you was of smutty romantic novel dreams.
You were focused on putting on some lipliner to accentuate your lips beneath your lip oil and touching up your lashes. All the while, Elsie had been gone helping Josh with his task of finding a shirt of Jake's. Though, that was a task that should have taken five minutes or less. . . and it had now taken almost twenty and you were getting antsy. And irritated. And frustrated. And grumpy. And envious of their freedom. . .
You couldn't lie. Your current predicament with Jake was ass. Not at all what Josh and Elsie had and you wanted to scream for it.
Honestly, most of it was definitely credited to the fact that you were hungry as fuck. Your stomach was growling more than you liked, so you were hesitant, yet again, to imagine how distraught Lavender was over the hunger.
At this point, you imagined the stomach growling was actually her saying her first words.Ā Imagining her inside, begging you with āfeed me, mommyāsā was enough to make your heart race with anticipation. You needed to get these pictures taken to tell the world of her. . . and, perhaps, possibly, get a reaction from her father. If you were lucky.Ā
And, as you eyed the lacy ensemble on your body once more, turning to the side and poking out a hip. . . You hoped to god - hoped that her aforementioned sexy ass father would see it and love it. And, perhaps, let you know, too. . . Again. . . if you were lucky.Ā
You were snapped from the thought of his opinion as Elsie was crashing into your space once again. Swiveling on a heel, you gave her a look that said everything you were thinking. Or at least you tried to translate it to say, āThanks for leaving me to suffer in hunger and anxious excitement for a damn quickie, bitch.ā
āOkay, so Josh has secured the shirt,ā Elsie said in a rush, not looking at you and hurriedly shutting the door behind her. Her hair was much messier than it had been when sheād left you.Ā And when she finally looked up at you to urge you to get moving, you noticed her salmon-colored lip liner-lip oil combo. . . had smudged down to her damn chin.Ā āShut up, bitch,ā she said, without a second thought. āI havenāt seen the man for a hot damn minute and I missed him. Give me a break.āĀ
āYou just saw him last night," you huffed an annoyed laughed at her excuses.
āWeāre making up for lost time.ā
You couldāve gagged. āIām starving, Elsie. Iām ready to take these so we can go eat.ā
āY/n,ā she huffed, voice pitching a bit higher with her annoyance. āIām doing you a damn favor by helping you. Youāre going to appreciate it without judging my ass.ā
Damn. She was right. And you were grateful. But still. Pregnancy hormones and cravings and hunger and hungry baby ā they were no joke. . . You figured youād bother her a little more. Just because little sisters had to meet their monthly quota.Ā
āYour niece is hungry, Elsie,ā you remarked, watching as she began unbuttoning the shirt Josh had found.Ā "I am quite actually eating for two and I have to make sure she is eating enough."
Her eyes flicked up to yours and there was a bit of fire in them. Along with an unspoken guilt. āFor that I am sorry. We will get this finished up before you know it. I promise,ā she finished with the buttons, offering the white dress shirt to you.Ā
Youād only seen him wear this a slim number of times. Very slim. Label meetings. A few lessons with higher paying clients (you internally gagged at the idea of Maya being one of said clientele). And Halloween night.
Goddamn, heād done it for you that night. When heād been dressed as the most breathtaking pirate youād ever fucking seen. When you grasped the shirt, you didnāt hesitate in bringing it up to your nose to smell it. Amber. Vanilla. Sandalwood. Paradise. Safety. Love.
When you heard Elsieās snort just past you, you realized what youād just done in front of her watchful eyes. You kept your head down, wanting to avoid said eyes. The oceans of teal and dark blue were most surely judging you just as sheād asked you to not judge her. Albeit, your little stunt was a little more creepy. Okay, very creepy. Weird as fuck. Whatever.
āDonāt judge me, Elsie,ā you muttered, still letting your eyes shift nervously at the carpet on which your toes wiggled. āIām justā.ā
āA horny ass ho ho ho. . .What a Merry Christmas to Jake!ā She finished with a singular loud cackle, flipping the light switch off behind her. The lights off with the candles and lamps was still an absolute ambient dream. āY/n. Seriously, though. Itās okay, babe. Like I said, I get it,ā she giggled a little more as you let the cool fabric slip over your arms. You couldāve sighed with relief at the hug from the material. But you didnāt. Not after your display. āHeās going to be chokinā the chicken tonight no matter what. Mayaās stank ass will be the last damn thing on his mind when you post thesā.āĀ
āEls!ā You finally let your head wrench up from your shame. But you couldnāt dig at her for what sheād said. It was hilarious. 'Chokinā the chicken'? Where did she get this shit?Ā All she was met with, though, was a little smirk on your lips. She was such a little devious rat. . . . and you loved it. You faux-scolded her. āQuit that. . .,ā you shook your head, messing with the buttons of the shirt for something to do with your hands. āHe canāt even do that shit with Maya around. Not that heād even wantā.ā
āOh my god. Y/n. Be so fucking for real.ā
āEven if we donāt like her and she sucks and I really, really canāt standā.ā
āSee? You can barely say a nice word about her. Sheās a whore,ā she pursed her lips with a toss of her eyes and hair over her shoulder. She then went to the mirror youād just been standing in front of to touch up her lips. Using a finger to touch up the edges, she hummed and spoke the best she could as she completed the job. āYou want it, he wants it. And I, for one, am not going to pretend like him buffing the banana is not the end goal with these pictures.ā
Buffing the banana? What in the sweet fuck?
āI honestly just want to post a pregnancy announcement,ā you reminded her, knowing it wasnāt the full truth. Not at all.
āAlso," she continued as if you hadn't said what you had. It was bullshit and she knew it. "I can almost guarantee heāll be finding time for himself in the bathroom in that little townā whatās it called?ā
āOh my god,ā with a flat brow, you gave her a look with your deadpan response. āItās Charleston, Elsie. . . One would think youāre not a world-fucking-traveler. You know how big Charleston is. Now you're just being a rat for the hell of it."
āI know I am. . . It's fun," she winked at your expression. "Sometimes I just feel like being a bitch. Especially about things concerning her,ā she said, digging through her belt bag on the dresser for her gloss. Never one to reapply the original lip. Only gloss after her lips were smudged.
You shook your head at her.Ā "Which room did you christen so I can sanitize it?"
"Jake's, duh," she replied, as if that were supposed to be a given.
But it just left you standing there with your mouth agape. What in the-? "What in the hell? His own brother's room?" You turned your voice down, so as not to make Josh privy to the conversation. "I've-we've-he and I have-so many times-. God, Elsie. . .," you shook your head and massaged your temples. For the briefest moment, Maya didn't fucking exist. No other woman did, in fact. Because all you could think about was how that room belonged to you and Jake. Only the two of you. "Please tell me it wasn't the bed."
"Not the bed. God, no. Too far," she seemed offended like that idea was so incredibly dirty to even consider. God - your sister was a trip when it came to one Joshua Michael Kiszka. "It was the desk. And, in that moment, it wasn't Jake's anymore. . . it was only us in that moment," she explained, popping her lips a couple times to ensure the gloss was doing what she wanted. And still, she put on another coat. You were ashamed that your mind had literally been following the same thought process only seconds ago. "When the feeling strikes, it strikes," she continued in a strange tone as her lips curled for the application. "Don't tell me you wouldn't do it anywhere if Jake were to approach you for it."
You wanted to continue the argument, but. . .She had a point. The thought alone had you wanting to bend over as an offering to the man. . . Wearing his shirt as he claimed you over and over again. . . Hard. Rough. Passionate. Talk about making up for lost time. . . Fuck. The though alone - you were growing desperate with no route for escape. . . In the next moment, when you shifted to tousle your hair away from your hot face, the shirt brushed just right across your chest. And suddenly, there was only one thing you wanted. . .
So, without another thought, you were giving into a sudden urge. Turning from her, you faced the bed. And once your front was safely hidden from her sight, you very subtly brushed the lapels of his shirt against your nipples. The sensation was enough to make you shiver - the peaks of your breasts grew taut and damn near painful at the way it lit you up. . . All for him and fuck - it felt so good. Your toes curled into the carpet, eyes closing at the feeling as you continued to use his shirt for stimulation. The lace and sheer material were the ideal match for his button down and your sensitive tits.Ā
āYeah, you know I'm right. Itās the precise reason you want to take this second one with Jakeās shirt covering your almost-naked body,ā she sarcastically interjected, playing a little too well into your current thoughts and actions for your liking. Your cheeks blushed, feeling like you'd been caught when she hadn't even turned around. When she popped her lips for a third time, though, you knew she was finished. And you were on edge for more reasons than one. So, you stopped what you were doing and went to get on the bed. Didnāt want to seem suspicious.
āOh, the things this poor bed has witnessed. . .,ā she pushed out a breath, grabbing your phone from where it laid on the edge of the bed. You rubbed your brow with a finger, ready to get the show on the road and feeling sympathetic for your bed and the way she spoke of it. (And the way she was so right. . . Your insatiable ass.) āWoo-wee, mama," she emphasized the words with a pat-pat-pat to the bed.
With a groan, you went from a sitting position on the bed to move on all fours. Had to find a good place to pose. But, moving like this was quickly becoming too much of a reminder of the night prior. So, you didnāt stay like that for long before you were scooting around the bed on your knees. Which, again, was a stark reminder of how his mouth had tucked up and inside ā so well ā from this angle. At the same time, his shirt once again brushed your tender nipples. Goddammit!
āElsie, how do you want me?ā You wondered aloud, done with the dilly-dallying. Turning to face her to clear your mind, you knew your expression was pinched in an effort to have her understand your frustration.Ā
And the mischievous smirk she gave you was not helpful. But, somehow, it did still trick your mind enough for your lips to part with your own grin. āI think we should only focus on using the position from that photo. Do you remember it?ā
āDuh, bitch,ā you bit out, once again irritated. The hormones were not working in your favor or your sisterās. Not with the additional hunger overtaking you to push it to a higher degree.
āAlright, so bend those knees,ā she encouraged, ignoring your snippiness. All she did was move to prepare for the exact spot she needed as the photographer for the photo aesthetic. So, you did just as she said, posing the exact same way the woman in the picture had.Ā When you loosened your hips to get your ass close to the fabric of your down comforter, you ruffled the covers around you for a special effect.
The bed shouldnāt look too pristine. . . Not for the idea Iām trying to create. . .You thought, face feeling hot at the implications of this photo.
You didnāt get down too low to the covers either; imagined where a face might lay below your hips, nestled between your thighs. A handsome face with amber-brown eyes and full lips, top one curled in a grin special to only him. . .Ā Last night had been a reel in your head all day, but now it wasnāt playing at the back. No, it was playing at the front.Ā Widescreen in a fucking cinema.
Slowly, before you had processed anything else, your hips had begun moving again with some assistance from his persistent hold on your hips. Heād gone to fully grip your ass, assisting you in grinding down, hard against his strong, flattened, and fucking wet tongue. He hadnāt stopped once the entire time. His fucking stamina was otherworldly. And, even though youād just (kind of) come back to, youād already started to fall apart again. It had hit you suddenly ā when youād felt his hums switch to a low growl against your labia, right before heād gone back in for a sloppy kiss. Youād instantly gone back in the throes of all things Jake; your body had become utterly numb as you sunk as far as you could onto his face.Ā
The growls and groans had continued from his mouth ā youād felt every single one against your center as heād worked to tilt your body just so, his nose, having nudged against your aching core. Right where all of the nerves met - just briefly. Your toes had curled tighter at the contact, amidst the harsh ride of your orgasm on his lips. Heād wanted you to feel every bit of work he was putting in. Every movement of his mouth was crucial to your enjoyment of the moment and heād made damn sure you knew that.
Youād made the mistake in that moment of looking down as youād groggily returned from your third orgasm, to the then-present time. Because, when youād looked down, youād been offered the opposite of reprieve. With a slow glance just past your round tummy, youād caught sight of the very bottom of his chin and the strong column of his neck below you. And what youād beheld had been intoxicatingly beautiful. . . And shocking.
All of your release, all over his tanned skin. . . Heād become fucking soaked. Had you squirā? Fuck. The knowledge of the fact that you'd done so. . . just enough to make a fire light up in the pit of your tummy. The flood of heat thatād enveloped your belly, washing over your entire body in a rush of glorious overstimulation, had been the only sign youād had of a fourth orgasm.Ā
āOh my god,ā you remembered whimpering, your body, having been incapable of handling itself as youād let out a choked sob, tears flooding down your cheeks at the care you were being shown. Your hands had finally slipped further, nestling on the insides of his thighs. Youād leaned forward just a bit to grasp him better, the want for his dick back inside of you had been a burning desire as you got closer to it. It had been obvious that heād been beyond ready for you ā stretched readily, angrily, and so thick. . . All. For. You.
Too fucking bad nothing had come of it. That thought alone was enough to gain a sense of self in the present time. But god, you were still feeling things from the memory. Things you really didnāt want to be feeling in front of your sister. Your cheeks alone were hot from the thought of him last night, as youād been positioned ā just like you were now ā in the same exact spot. You had to control the reactions your body was desiring to emit at the memory.
Not in front of Elsie. Have some respect for yourself, y/n, the voice in your head counseled you. Couldnāt tell if it was the mean one or the nice one. . . Either way, it was correct in its advice.
āI see what you did there,ā she appreciatively noted, snapping a photo at the same time you messed with the blanket. āKeep moving in candid ways. Youāre already killing it with that gorgeous face. Iām so fucking jealous of those darker features from Grandpaās side of the family.ā
āPlease donāt talk about our Grandfather right now,ā you replied, cheeks cooling when you shot her a glare. You were sure your face showed utter disgust. Because, ew.
āAlright. Almost done,ā she said with a slight snort of a laugh, getting off the bed from the curved position sheād made to get the last round of pictures. She snapped a few from a standing position at the end of the bed. Then a few more, with only her chest and arms leaning on the mattress. You were sure you had at least good one from all of these as she kept complimenting you after every few. God, you were so thankful for her mindfulness and helpfulness. You really would be lost without her. She really didnāt have to be doing this, but here she was.Ā āThese are going to be so fucking hot, sis.ā
You breathed out with a smile, feigning an incredible amount of effort that you hadnāt used with the back of your hand across your forehead. Though, ironically, your next breath was, actually, from back pain alone. While the position was really attractive, it was starting to hurt a bit. No Jake below you to make you feel better this time. You really did love how incredibly well it resembled last night. . . But your baby was growing everyday and your back was unappreciative. . . Especially in new, abnormal positions such as the one you were in.Ā
The look of pain went unnoticed by your sister as she had gone to speak loudly to Josh through a crack in the door. One hand on the knob and phone in the other, she looked over at you quizzically. āHow would you feel about The Monkey King?ā
Anything sounded delicious. . . And The Monkey King had hit the fucking spot all two times you'd eaten there. You were in shock at the suggestion. Seriously. The Monkey King? The restaurant was not cheap. Even with grandparents who provided more than well, youād only ever been to the restaurant a couple of times in your entire life.Ā
āUm. . . Who will be payā?ā You began, with a scrunched brow before Josh interrupted you with a 'me, mama!'.
However, that voice had come from way too close. Was he directly outside of the room? Why was he not in the living room? You did not like the idea of your male best friend being so near when you were in such flimsy and revealing clothing.Ā
Youāre literally posting these on Instagram, y/n, a little voice spoke to you. Pretty sure Josh is the least of your worries.
āSounds like a plan,ā you agreed, grimacing again from the pain in your back just as sheād turned to speak with him again.Ā
Thankfully, she was back within seconds with one last idea. There was a choir singing "Hallelujah" in the distance - you were sure of it. āOkay. . . One more pose I just thought of. Stay on your knees, but lightly grab the lapel of his shirt.ā You did just that, following her instructions, your fingers brushing the ends of your hair strands.
āHow can he afford that?ā You asked as she fidgeted with the lapels of the shirt. It was honestly astounding that heād just thrown that expensive ass restaurant out there as a recommendation like it was nothing.Ā
āYou should see the money theyāve made from some of this promotional shit with their label,ā she bragged on the bandās behalf ā but you knew it was more on Joshās behalf.
āSeriously? Without a tour, even?ā You wondered, letting your eyes meet hers once at the question. āOr a damn album release itself?ā
She told you to ākeep the poseāĀ before she responded. āItās a lot of explanation and words and Josh talks so much that I donāt always catch everything he says,ā she explained, pursing her lips before telling you to look down again. āBut from what Iāve gathered, they are doing a lot of shit for the label and with the label. . . The type of shit that racks up some big money.ā
āThatās incredible,ā you said, speechless as you surged with a deep sense of pride for Jake specifically.
It was impossible to communicate the amount of emotion you felt for his career taking off. So quickly, too, in the grand scheme of things. Absolutely awe-inspiring for anyone to witness. It was proof that if he wouldnāt have stopped after high school, heād have gone farther than he already was going now. The fact that they were going so far now and doing so well for themselves was further confirmation that you couldnāt ever let Jake abandon a damned thing for you. Or for Lavender. She had to see him do this wonderful, once-in-a-lifetime thing ā live this dream out. In the long run, it would inspire her to follow her own dreams. It sounded stupid to already be saying shit like that, yes. . . But it was how your hormones laid things out for you ā mentally and emotionally. And it really did make sense.Ā . .
The thought alone was enough to help you stand firm in your desire for him to not be with you. And you didnāt want him with someone like Maya. You were so passed that. She wasnāt good like he was. They didnāt fit and it was hell watching them together because he was better - far better - than her.Ā Being so close and intimate with him again was (very slowly) helping to clear your head of the bullshit that you'd orchestrated in your mind that she was right for him. Jacob Thomas Kiszka wasnāt right for anybody. He was too good for this world and no one was good enough for his heart. Even if he were to believe it wasnāt true, you believed it. And you would continue to believe it for him if you had to. You loved him enough to believe in anything for him.
You were jealous of him and Maya, yes. And you wanted him to leave her. But it went beyond that. So far beyond that. In the end, it had virtually nothing to do with Maya and everything to do with Jake. Jake deserved to live his dream without a woman tying him down. While you wanted all of him more than anything, you knew youād only ever give so much of yourself. Only for his benefit. You would use your body to show him your love for as long as time would allow. You wanted that shit and heād made it seem like he did, too. Youād be his friend, too. Being his friend, alone, was a gift.Ā His friend, first and foremost.
Your entire heart ā everything that came with a relationship ā was too much for him and you refused to burden him with it. You loved him too much for that. God. . .you really fucking loved him.Ā So much it physically hurt. The love you had for him was the reason you were so adamant about not letting him push anything away like heād been forced to before. His future was right around the corner. The life that he was destined for. . . One outlined with fame and adoration from fans who loved the music he made.Ā
Heād helped you reclaim a hellton of shit in your life. The least you could do for him was not squander it with a relationship. A relationship with a broken woman. His baby would know that he loved her. Youād make sure of it. You knew heād make sure of it. Lavender Kiszka would only bring joy and hope in her wake ā just like she already did.Ā You brought confusion and unsureness and a broken heart from things that werenāt his doing.
Yes, your goal was to have those things healed before Lavender was in your arms. But. . that was another thing. It was for her. The healing, the getting better. . . At your core, you knew it was for her. Not him. Not even for you, as much as it was her. She needed your devoted attention. And that did not include him working tirelessly to keep up with your bullshit. No, Lavender needed to be his main focus, too.Ā
After Elsie claimed sheād gotten the āperfect shotā, she left you to get changed for the night. But. . you couldnāt take off the lingerie yet. Didnāt want to. It made you feel so fucking incredible, in the end. Even when you went to brush your hair and touch up your lips in the mirror and caught sight of your vein-ridden tits. . .you didnāt begin to feel like shit. No, the veins that stared back at you above the cups of your bralette werenāt quite so offensive anymore. Not when you associated them with why they were so prominent.Ā
You slipped a nice, black v-neck sweater over your head to match the expensiveness of the restaurant youād be going to. And when it was just the sweater and the lacy underwear (that did not cover your ass), you turned to the side and smoothed a gentle, loving hand over your bump.Ā She was worth every bit of everything. And so was her daddy.Ā
āHow about I post a story of you and Els? Thatāll break the ice,ā Josh brainstormed as all three of you got settled into your seats at The Monkey King. āWe can see if heās online.ā
For the past half hour of leaving your home and waiting for a table at The Monkey King, Elsie and Josh had been talking you down from being worried. Worried about posting your pictures. The non-sexy comparison one would be first. You already had that post queued up on your end. But. . . youād been leaning into hesitancy. You were waiting ā because of nerves forcing you to believe that Jake wouldnāt even react to them.
Elsie had been right about the last set of pictures she'd snapped. There had been one photo in particular that had been perfect. When you looked at it, it was hard to believe it was even you. But that was how you knew it was fucking good and hot as hell. Your hair had been the slightest bit tousled from your moving around for the pictures, your hand holding onto the left lapel of his shirt. . . Your legs, opened into a small 'V' and bent at the knee, ass nearly touching the bed in your 'relaxed' position.Ā
And your tits. Damn. In spite of the veins, you still loved how they looked at this stage in your pregnancy. They were ideally round and swollen in a way that would make any boob-loverās day. Yes, the veins were noticeable. But you actually understood Elsieās point about them adding a sexy touch. You saw yourself as this ethereal sort of pregnant woman in the sensuous picture. Youād made it black and white for an added noir effect. . . And it was actually perfect. But, still. You were nervous.Ā
āI swear if this is actually about your titties. . .,ā Elsie began, somehow reading your mind in her creepy ass sister way. Her words got an abrupt response from her boyfriend.Ā
āA womanās body is magnificent in any light, y/n. Donāt be ashamed of it, mama,ā Josh encouraged, catching your eyes and blushing cheeks. His brown irises held compassion and empathy.Ā
āThanks, Joā.ā
āYeah, y/n,ā Elsie cut in, earning herself a glare from you. āAnd that especially goes for pregnant bodies.ā
āI believe if my twin were here heād have to agree,ā Josh inserted, looking at Elsie when he said it. He was literally using it as a conversation piece to add onto her statement. Josh was an appreciator of the human anatomy ā of all of its beautiful features and abilities.Ā
But it felt like you were being put on the spot. Like Elsie had said some shit. Something that would make him feel the need to encourage you with a statement in reference to Jake and your boobs. āWhat the fuck did you say to him, Elsie?ā You wondered, being cut off by the waiter coming to take your drink orders.Ā
For once, you actually got a drink with caffeine. Coke. You knew from reading, that a little caffeine wouldnāt hurt the baby and you were craving the unhealthy carbonated drink. Christmas and Coke just went together. When the waiter had gone, you went to say more to Elsie ā really chew her out ā but it was Josh who spoke first.Ā
āI donāt even know what youāre referring to, y/n,ā he clarified, gaining your line of sight. His eyes screamed genuinity. You knew he wasnāt lying. āI just felt the need to insert what I knew. What I know about the man. Because. . .,ā he cleared his throat, leveling you with a pinning stare. His lips quirked. āBecause, I know ā based on what you told me, y/n ā, that that stupid ass motherfucker is part of the reason youāre nervous to post anything.ā
āWhat, do you know that Jakeās a boob guy or something?ā Elsie tried, smirking at her boyfriend. āI mean. . .could have guessed that based on the way Iāve caught him looking at y/nās on the few occasions Iāve been around to witness it.ā
What? He did that? And often enough that Elsie had noticed it after only a few visits?
āYou do make quite the impeccable point, my dear. . . The fucker canāt take his damned eyes off of them,ā Josh agreed with a puff of air from his lips, quantified to a laugh. āItās hilarious, actually. Thinks heās being subtle.ā
You had no idea what they were talking about. There had only been a few times that you had caught his eyes roaming. . . And usually, it was just the two of you who were there when he did it. āI donāt know what the fuck you guys are talking about,ā you interjected. āSurely he doesnātā.ā
āY/n. Even if I hadnāt caught him doing it, he told me his goddamn self,ā Josh informed you, placing his fingers together in a pyramid in front of his face. As if he were some sort of great scholar discussing this shit. āThat day after he groped you in front of us all and got himself off in the bathroom ā which he also admitted to, by the way. He actually told me the shit about your body whilst admitting to yanking his fucking chain.ā
Okay, they had to stop with the variety of terms they used to describe sex things.Ā āWhere the fuck do you guys hear the variety of ways to refer to male and female genitalia?āĀ
āUrban Dictionary,ā they said in unison, side eyeing one another with a little grin as they bumped shoulders.Ā
You rolled your eyes.Ā
āWe just get on there for fun sometimes,ā Elsie explained, rubbing Joshās arm lovingly as the drinks got to the table.Ā
āYouāre both gross,ā you replied as you watched them fucking Eskimo kiss in front of you. God, you were so damn single.Ā
For a number of seconds, they continued on as if you werenāt there. All handsy and flirty and in love. You stared at them blankly and with self-pity. . . All you wanted, with one person in particular. But you just couldnāt do it.Ā
You were caught off guard when the waiter was suddenly back with your drinks, asking for your orders. You quickly ordered your meal, having checked the menu online on the way to the restaurant. The way your stomach had been calling out for help had simply left you no other choice. When the server was yet again gone, with the orders tucked into his apron, you let your eyes roam back over to your two best friends. Thankfully, they were back from Love Island. Though, unfortunately, they were both eyeing you with measured stares of awaiting nature.
āWhat, you two?ā You snapped at them, arching a brow as you took a long sip of your Coke. Which, as you'd expected, hit the spot just right.
āYouāre not even going to react?ā Josh quizzed you, raised a brow as he took a sip of his piping hot green tea. āI just told you that Jake told me how much he loved your body.ā
To tell him or not to tell him. . . Fuck. Whatever. What was the harm?
āI donāt need to react to that Josh,ā you began. After one more little sip of your Coke, you placed your phone on the table. The confidence was coming; you could do it. āBecause last night I think his mouth did a pretty impeccable job informing me ā on my body.āĀ
āIn her body,ā Elsie added, with a pointed look at Josh.Ā
The curly headed twin almost shot green tea out of his nose, choking slightly as he swallowed his most recent sip. āWhat?!ā
āYes, Joshua, we both took your sage advice. Thank you so much, Wise Counselor,ā you griped, for no reason besides how hungry you were. Because, truly, you were grateful. Josh was working wondrous Christmas miracles in Brooklyn, NY.Ā
āDr. JMK,ā Elsie wiggled her brows at him, patting his back as his coughs turned to little huffs and puffs. āMy favorite therapist.ā
You didnāt even have to guess that they were referring to sex. Not with the way he was smirking and rubbing at his bottom lip as his breathing calmed. His eyes, darkened and looking in the distance - far away from you. Then, he was whispering in her ear and you wanted to gag. Again.Ā
Their public display of affection was enough to encourage you to go to your own little world. And the most effective way to do that at the time being was to just get the damn picture posted. Just the comparison. The one in the jeans. You could do that. With the caption up and ready and everything, all you had to do was click a certain button.Ā
So, you did it. Posted. Just like that.
The left side, the picture of you in a black bra with your jeans undone in the front to showcase your protruding lower tummy. And then, of course, the right side was the picture of your pre-baby body the day you went to the pool. In your little black swimsuit ā but just enough of the picture to be a near-replica picture of the one youād taken that evening. Just your face behind the phone, your chest, your tummy, and the very top curve of your ass.Ā
The focal point of both pictures, being how your body had changed. Which, you had to admit. . . you were beginning to prefer the baby bod. Whether that was thanks to Jakeās assistance the night before or the fact that your changing body meant your daughter was growing - well and healthily. . . you werenāt sure. Though, you were leaning more towards being proud of the little human you were housing. She was right there, obvious to everyone, all of the time, and you loved that fact. Lavender made the cutest little bump. And when you werenāt in your head about your appearance, you could see just how much you loved your bump. You were admittedly blessed with quite the adorable round tummy.Ā
And, after comparing your body to hoards of other pregnant women, you knew you were also blessed with incredible pregnancy-induced tits. Youād seen plenty of other women who had perfectly suited bodies to accompany their pregnancy⦠but, you were glad to simply prefer yours than compare it to othersā. Your nipples were still smaller and lighter, those not having changed too much (strangely, you were terrified for those to change). It was nice to not have to get used to those changing along with everything else (Seriously. Everything else: belly, ass, thighs, swollen feet ā the works.). The only thing that had really changed about your breasts was the size of them. Theyād grown beautifully larger, in your opinion. Round, sexily swollen, and sitting just right on your body above your bump. . . (If you took time to consider it, you could understand why Jake had focused on them so intentionally the night before.)Ā
Seriously, where this confidence was coming from, you had no idea. You assumed it had to do with the night before.Ā
You stared at the post for just a moment longer, not daring to refresh the page to see any comments, likes or anything of the sort. The caption was very sweet, the ideal thing to accompany the black and white side-by-side comparison. It was simple, pointing out the obvious. (Your tummy was still small-ish, yes. However, it was also pretty clear that you were, in fact, more than a little pregnant.)Ā
For your caption, youād written:
Just a bit of a differenceā¦ š¤š«¶ May 2023 š£š
The notification ping! on Elsieās phone went off with your post. At the noise, you looked up at your sister to see her reaction to it. Thankfully, it had been enough to break her and Josh from their mini lovefest (seriously, thank god). Sheād given you an eye with a smirk that said she was proud of you before she picked up her phone to see the post. Josh was looking over her shoulder as she clicked through to the app, curious to see the highly anticipated post finally up and in action.Ā Ā
āOh, y/n. . . . it is perfect!ā Sheād excitedly squealed, instantly double clicking her screen with her pointer. She flourished the action with a little flick of her wrist, which made you laugh. And soon, Josh was readily getting his phone out to, presumably, do the same. āIām gonna comment and share it to my story. . . How about you post your story pic, sis? Please. Iām dying.ā
Still maneuvering around his phone like he was a grandpa, Josh held the phone away from his face a bit to get a good look. With a gentle grin, he double clicked before sending a wink your way. āSo cute, Mama. Jakeās going to love it.ā
āI canāt look to see if heās liked it yet,ā you admitted out loud, only eyeing the post for a second longer before you started preparing your story post. āAnd I literally just posted, so I know I sound ambitious even referring to it yet.āĀ It seemed like the right time to get the truly risque picture set and ready while you were feeling so good about your figure. . . And to distract you from Jake possibly seeing the other post.Ā
āWe donāt have to quite yet. Els, why donāt you. . .?ā Josh said across from you. From your peripheral, you noticed he was gearing up his phone to take a picture of you. You glanced up at him just as Elsie was moving around the table to sit beside you. The crinkle in your brow questioned what they were doing, but you didnāt have to ask as he was revealing it himself on his next breath. āIām going to make that story post I mentioned earlier. And, if he sees mine, then Iāll be able to call him on his shit if he doesnāt pay attention to yours.ā
āJosh,ā you scolded with a stern brow. Though, in spite of your slight disagreement with the plan, you went along with it. It did make sense. . . you just werenāt sure you wanted him calling Jake out. You said as much, just as he got the phone set up just right to get the best angle. āYou shouldn't call him out for anything. He is with Maya. His focus doesnāt need to be on me. Iām just being weird about him seeing it.āĀ
With another glance, you eyed your phone screen before turning it on its face ā didnāt want to show how it was opened to a new Insta story. The black and white picture of you in the sexy black lingerie and Jakeās shirt, only awaiting a song to accompany it for your second post of the night.
āWe all want to know his reaction, sis,ā Elsie clarified as she snuggled up beside you, wrapping her arm around you and pulling you close. āNow, smile for my boyfriend.ā
You did just as she said, the smile not hard to fake at all. This night was honestly of your dreams, getting to be with your two best friends. Elsie living in New York again still felt too good to be true. . . But, it was, in fact, very true. And you were overjoyed. There was only one person truly missing.Ā
Josh continued to narrate as he took a few pictures. āI want him to see what heās missing out on, too. Selfishly, Iām also pissed heās spending any time away from me this holiday season, too. . .,ā he grumpily noted. āI thought that the āprioritizing the girlfriendā shit was behind us.ā
With a flush in your cheeks, you couldnāt help but agree that it was aggravating that he was away.Ā āYeah, it sucks that heās not here,ā you said, not really caring to be transparent about that. It was just Josh and Elsie. . . you were tired of hiding all of these pent up feelings from them. There were only certain things you were not about to divulge to them. . . . like your love for the man. āI was looking forward to spending some of the holiday with him, too.ā
The curly headed man turned the phone around to show you the pictures with measured scrolls between the pictures. āI feel you, mama,ā he solemnly noted in return. āTell me to stop when you see the one you love.ā
They were all very good. Josh knew his way behind a camera. . . truly knew how to make people look their best. But there was one in particular you instantly stopped him at. It was the happiest youād seen yourself for a hot damn second and Elsie looked majestically gorgeous with her curly hair falling around her petite, fairy-like features with ease.Ā
āThat one is my favorite,ā you said, tapping the screen to hit the favorite button to emphasize your point. āI love our smiles in it. You look gorgeous, Els.ā
āThis is about you, sis,ā she grasped Joshās wrist to halt him from moving his phone away just yet. āDo you like how you look in it?ā
You shook your head at her insistence, smiling at her. Gently, you lifted her fingers from Joshās wrist and grasped her hand in your own. āYes, Elsie. I love how we both look in it,ā you promised her, keeping her hand in a tight grip when she gave you a grin to match your own. āBut can you please stay beside me for a bit? I need you right here when I post this fucking sensuous story.ā
āYes, silly,ā she responded, a glint in her eye as she winked. āDo you want to post first? Or do you want Josh to?ā
From the side, you saw Josh pause before placing his phone on the table. āYou stopped me just in time, babe. . . Was just about to post it. Instantly knew the song to make him feel guilty with, and put it on there, too," he said, relief and a giggle evident in his tone. āAnd before either of you see it, yes. I can confirm my words are a little braggy, but I like them that way.ā
āIām sure whatever you said was fine, Joshy,ā you said to him with a pat on the back of his hand, curious at the song.Ā But. . . you didn't worry too much about it, though, since you had your own shit to worry about.
His lips quirked under his mustache before he asked you the same question as your sister. āSo, you first or me? What would you like best, mama?ā
āAnd Close Friends only or do you want Maya to see it, too?ā Elsie asked, brow raised when you caught her eyes next. āHonestly, that would be poetic fucking justice for her toā.ā
āNo, Els. Only Close Friends. No Maya,ā you rolled your eyes at her antics. āI donāt want her to feel any type of way over me posting this. Want her to enjoy Christmas and not worry about me or any of this,ā you motioned to your belly.
Silently, you added that you really didnāt want to give her any reason to question you. Didnāt want her to catch on to anything you and Jake had done right before theyād left town. . . . or the fact that you were wearing his damned shirt. You liked it being posted in a sort of secret.Ā For a second, you sat and contemplated it, though. You knew what you truly wanted to do. You were ready. Mostly. āI think Iām gonna post mine. Then, if heās ignored that and my actual post-post, weāll see if heās actually online and not interacting with me if heās viewing your story.ā
āSounds good,ā Josh agreed with an approving purse of his lips. āThe floor is yours.ā
For some reason, you were beginning to question all of your concern about wanting him seeing it. . . was it stupid? Juvenile? āWhy do I even care about him being online, again?ā You questioned, out loud, to them. It was better than drowning completely in your own thoughts.Ā
āBecause you care about him and you want him to see these,ā Elsie said, knowing you better than you knew yourself. āYou know you look good and you want him to see you.ā
Briefly, you questioned your motives. āBut, like. . .is this okay? Am I using my daughter for some sort of weird, personal gain or some shit?ā
āOh, babe. No. Not in the slightest, sis,ā Elsie insisted with a squeeze to your bicep. She went to grasp your arm with both of her hands, urging you to look at her. And you did, eyes glazing with tears as you observed the sincerity in hers. āGet out of your head. Are you using your body to take sexy pictures while you look so fucking good pregnant? Yes. I would judge you if you didnāt take sexy maternity pictures. . . And I will judge you if you donāt take more with a professional, later in the pregnancy.ā
āYouāre taking advantage of being confident in your current state,ā Josh added on. You looked over at him, a smirk present on his lips to encourage you. āAnd Iām glad you are. Every woman should feel divine as fuck in her body while carrying a human life. Thatās fucking incredible shit that only you women are able to do and you should fully flaunt the fact that youāre doing that shit. Itās fuckinā badass, y/n.ā
āI completely and wholeheartedly second that,ā Elsie tacked on to the end, your gaze going back to hers. She grasped your chin in between her dainty, soft fingers. āDonāt convince yourself of this shit about you being selfish or whatever. I know that's what you're doing. You're confident! It's good to be confident. And you'll get to teach your daughter the same. Donāt you dare dim your light. . . because you wonāt want her to dim hers. Yes, youāre posting this to look sexy for Jake, but you did it for yourself, too. Andā.ā
āAnd ultimately, it is for Lavender,ā Josh finished for Elsie.Ā
Her name. Your eyes snapped over to him, instantly welling with tears at hearing her name flit from his lips.Ā Out in the wild.
It took him a second to register what you were reacting to, but when he did, his expression went flat and his eyes went sympathetic. āFuck, y/n. Iā I didnāt evenā,ā he rubbed an eyebrow before using his hands to aid in explaining himself. (Which he did not need to do, but you couldnāt say that yet. All you could do was simply sit there in shock at hearing her name in the damn wild.) āJacob told me. He told me of the significance of it and everything and he just really wanted me to know. . . . Told me to keep my mouth shut and not tell anyone. Because, duh. He wanted to wait for your time for everyone else to find out. But, againā he did tell me you would most likely be okay with me knowing and I just really fucking hope he was correct in thisā.ā
āYes!ā You adamantly interrupted him, a huge smile lighting up your features at all of it. āYes. I absolutely am fine with the fact that he told you. I wouldāve told him to, but pregnancy brain and all ā just slipped my mind,ā you shook your head with a contented smile, catching his eyes once more. āI justā I loved hearing you say her name, Josh.ā His own smile widened under his mustache as his eyes got glossy. He reached a hand out for you, which you gripped surely and tightly to communicate your love to him.
Itād definitely caught you off guard. But you truly were elated that Jake had told him. You liked it being only your little circle of people that knew. Just your circle. You hoped Jake viewed it as special as you that only your few chosen people knew about her gender. . .And now, a couple more new the name. Only Josh and Elsie. In your heart, you knew he viewed it the same. Youād bet anything on it.
So, feeling emotions rise in your chest and love pouring out of your ears at the support from all areas. . . you decided it was time. And without a second thought, you went for it. Posted the picture, which youād edited to be a faded and fairly aesthetic black and white tone. On top of the photo were thoughtfully curated words and a favorite holiday-esque tune of yours to match them.Ā Ā
Your words, āMost definitely āØfalling in love⨠with my favorite gift ever.ā And, to add to the darker and more mysterious vibe of the shot, youād tacked on a tiny black heart under the text.Ā
The song youād chosen was by one of your current favorite artists. Victoria Monet. An orchestral, instrumental rendition of her tune, āWe Might Even Be Falling In Love.ā The song had been released by her a couple of Christmases ago, with a bunch of her other tracks that sheād added a Christmas sound to. The song fit the overall theme of the story exquisitely. Sexy for Jake to hear as he watched the story, yet loving to fit the message meant for Lavender. And of course, Christmas-y for the season and the text youād added.
Even with the nerves whistling through your system, you relished in the fact that it was out now. For everyone to see. For a specific person to see. You watched it play through again, admiring the way you looked in it. Elsie had done a damn good job, you were impressed.
āReady for me to post mine, mama?ā Josh asked, breaking you from your reverie of the fact that youād just posted the picture.Ā
You blinked at him once. Twice. And then told him yes. But it was barely any time after he posted his story that you decided to finally click through to your notifications. When you did, you saw a name you were awfully enthusiastic to see. And that was an understatement.
jakekiszka liked your photo.Ā
16m
jakekiszka commented: š
16m
Sixteen minutes ago. . . You clicked through to the post, noticing the time stamp implied that youād posted it nearly the same length of time ago, save for a couple of minutes. Fuck. Heād seen it basically right away? You couldnāt help the smile that floated to comfortably sit on your lips in silent relief. And on top of seeing it right off the bat, heād been the first to comment, many others following to offer comments and likes to offer congratulations. Elsie and Josh, taking the cake for the first people to like the post. . . But Jake had taken the time to comment.Ā
And a purple heart, at that. To match yours. For your girl.
Jakeās POV
The initial post had been enough to make me forget where I was. Then sheād posted her story.Ā And the concept of space and time and the people around me mattered fucking none. My dick, doing all of the thinking in my damn pants. . . Daring to react like it wanted to. Goddammit.Ā
She was wearing nearly nothing, only the most breathtaking lacy and sheer bra and panties. Matching. Sheād put fucking thought into this. Her tits, so fuckin' heavy and swollen for what they were preparing. . . And when I noticed it was my goddamned shirt on top of her basically naked body - those perfect tits - I was done for. I knew exactly what she was doing. I crossed my legs, rubbing at my jaw in complete and utterĀ appreciation of her heavenly fucking body. My phone, hidden from Maya the best it couldāve been.Ā
I made sure Maya was still engaged in whatever she was talking about with her dad before I turned to the side just slightly to avoid her eyes on the screen. And I really took a moment to digest the image on my phone. My thumb was holding the story in place like my damn life depended on it. . . My dick was fucking aching to do something about what I was looking at. . . And right here, at dinner with Maya and her father, I felt myself getting real fucking hard for y/n. Couldnāt stop it if I fuckinā tried. This image was sealed in my mind.Ā
Fuck. And I'd been Iād been so damn good. . .
After spending the entire day wanting to continue our conversation from earlier, I hadnāt. A few times, away from Mayaās eyes, Iād opened our thread and almost started something. But I had refrained each and every time. Iād done a damn good job of honoring her wishes by focusing on Maya. I knew that y/n had a point with her insistence on that and I knew it was the right thing to do. Ignore her and think about Maya. . . I knew sheād had a point.Ā
But, still. After last night, all I wanted to fucking do was wrap myself up in all things y/n. Being away from her right now was fucking torture. And not being able to talk to her at all? Worst part of all. But I couldnāt respect her wishes to not communicate when she was posting shit like this.Ā
It lit a fire under my skin. . .
The little act even made me grit my teeth in anger at her. Why did she get to pull shit like this, but I wasnāt allowed to simply text her? Didnāt seem fair to me and I fucking wished there was something I could do about articulating this point to her. Words really wouldn't do it justice. I wanted to use my mouth, my hands, my cock to get the damned point through to her.Ā
But I couldnāt fucking do that at the moment, could I? I crossed my legs tighter together, crushing my fuckin' nuts. Though, I didn't care too much at the moment. . . I was too busy contemplating what was happening in my mind and my damn pants. It was starting to hurt ā trying to conceal the throbbing problem in my jeans. So, I decided I needed to say or do something. Teach her a fucking lesson. I just didnāt know how.Ā
Fuck, she needed to understand that she couldnāt do shit like this when I wasnāt around. When I was with my girlfriend.Ā
All I wanted to do was make her understand that this wasnāt fair. . . . Wanted to use my body and hers to do so. . . But I fucking couldnāt do that, now could I? Then ā as my dick strained just a bit harder in my jeans, threatening to expose me ā I got an idea. Without taking even a second to consider anything, I clicked my phone closed before I turned to Maya.Ā
āIāve gotta call Josh about something,ā I told her, gaining her big brown eyes, making sure to sound as sincere as I could. I felt sort of shitty doing it, but my dick was doing all of the thinking at the moment. My brain was not in charge. āIāll be real quick.āĀ
āYouāre good,ā she smiled, patting my thigh and leaning in to give me a kiss on the cheek I didnāt want from her at the present time. āMake it quick, though? This place closes in a couple of hours and I want you to try all of the desserts that come out on the tray. . . I have a story for each and every one.ā
Again, not really thinking much, all I could do was offer a quick smile and an āmhmā before rising from my chair quickly and quietly. I did my best to walk with my ass facing the table, covering my front the best I could with my phone and sweater. Without needing much time, thinking on efficiency mode, I found the sign for the bathrooms in no time.Ā
Once I made it to the family stall bathroom, I unbuttoned my pants for some relief. I sighed at the feeling of my jeans not crushing my fucking pulsing cock. And while, yes, it felt better, it was still not good enough. Not even fucking close. I opened my text thread with her. It only took me half a minute to decide on what I wanted to say.
Me, 9:53 p.m.: okay so
Me, 9:53 p.m.: Iām not allowed to talk to you... But you can apparently get fucking naked and wear my shirt when Iām not there to do something about it?
I reached into my briefs and gave myself a few strokes, getting impossibly harder as I watched her name on my screen. Just her name had my head fuzzy as shit right now. I continued to pay special attention to my dick. It was dense as fuckin' lead, so my hand only offered decent satiation. It was nothing compared to her hand, her mouth. . . And especially not her wet and fucking warm pussy. That shit hugged my dick like a damn glove.
I studied her contact picture in my phone. . . Fuck. She was so damn perfect. No other woman compared. I still had her picture in my phone set as one Iād taken over the summer. . . From that day at Samās AirBnB pool. Her, laying on the edge of the pool, arms crossed to hold her up right beside where I still still sat in the pool. She was grinning down at me, smile wide enough that I could see her dimples. Her eyes, squinted shut, under the summer sun. The way her skin glowed under the sun. . . And if I were to click through to see the whole picture, Iād be able to see each and every droplet of water that had been clinging so flawlessly to her soft skin.Ā
The swimsuit in the contact photo, the same damn one as the post from earlier in the evening. God. . .That post had been pure perfection. The black bra and jeans, the swimsuit. . .Iād clicked through to that first post so quicklyā as soon as Iād gotten the notification. (Yes, my post notifications were still on for her. . . Iād initially set them up over the summer when sheād posted quite frequently.) Standing in this bathroom, I came to the realization that the baby reveal post had been the first real post sheād made since summertime, aside from the occasional story.Ā
The first post alone ā an incredible way to come back. Damn. As soon as I had gotten the notification that sheād posted, my heart had started hammering in my chest. Like I was a fuckinā teenager with a damn crush. Sheād had that effect on me since day one.Ā
The picture of her in her cute little black swimsuit ā the one with the lace that shaped seamlessly to her tits. . . Then, there was the new picture of her that it had been compared to. Y/n, posing in the mirror. Wearing only a black bra and worn jeans, the fly undone to show off her cute, round belly. The belly that was holding my baby girl.
Goddamn.Ā
And those tits. . .I could still feel them, what they'd felt like in my hands. In my mouth. In the picture, they'd been sitting just right in that maternity bra ā something Iād never known to be hot until y/n was the one wearing it. I couldnāt help but think she made everything sexier. More beautiful. But god, did I want to hold those motherfuckers in my hands again ā grip them and make her whine for more. Lick her tender nipples into my mouth. . .Ā Shit. . . . .My hand continued to wrap around my dick, pumping the best it could. A sad comparison to y/n. . . . . . Fuck, I missed her.Ā
I went back to Instagram with the hand that still held my phone. When I was back on the app, I had to click away from the story post. Art in its finest form. But, as I exited from it, I mentally promised that image that Iād damn well be back. I just had to look at the other post. Let my delusional ass travel back to summer time. That older photo in the black and white comparison. . . Iād recognized that cute ass photo right away.Ā
The day it was taken, locked in my fucking memory. The photo from her post had been taken right before weād left for the pool. Iād caught a glimpse of her taking it, right before knocking on her door with a gentle rap of my knuckles. The door, only being cracked, easily opened for me to enter. . . That had been normal for us. Doors open. Casual entry. God, things had been so damn perfect.
Sheād smiled at me with this secretive little grin on her pretty lips. And that had led to me sauntering over to her to take her in my arms. I could remember every detail from the momentā the way sheād melted into my grasp, the freckles that dusted her nose and cheeks, and the way her soft lips had tasted like her coconut chapstick. . .Ā
Before I could get too carried away with my memory, my phone buzzed in my hand. Her name, floating across the top of my screen. I tapped that shit on sight, letting my eager hand ease up a bit on my dick, but kept a sure hold of it in my flexing fist.
Y/n, 9:57 p.m.: Jacob. What the fuck did I say about texting me?
Oh, fuck no. She was not going to tell me what to fucking do. Not when sheād pulled her shit. She'd known what she was doing with her little photoshoot. That picture with her tits out, pussy just about visible in her lacy panties ā and in my clothes. Yeah. . . Y/n was the furthest thing from an idiot. She knew. This meant she was the one who needed a damn talking to.
Me, 9:58 p.m.: oh baby... You will NOT tell me what to do any fuckin more today
Her next reply came quicker, barely enough time for me to register that she'd read mine.Ā
Y/n, 9:59 p.m.: Yeah? And what gives YOU the right to decide that, Jake? Iām pretty sure I can make MY OWN damn choices, baby.Ā
Me, 9:59 p.m.: yeah. But you telling me to stop texting you and to focus on my girlfriend⦠that IS you telling me what to do
Me, 10:00 p.m.: and just like you I get to make my own damn choices. YOUR little stunt tonight is making it pretty damn hard for me to not want to talk to you. Quite frankly⦠I wanna do more than talk to youĀ
Me, 10:01 p.m.: looks like I need to teach your ass a little lesson, hm?Ā
But, after I sent that, I just stood there. My hand, loose and lazing up and down, on my dick, for a good while, waiting for her to answer. After a few long ass minutes, I started to get fuckinā pissed. I didnāt have time to wait on her shit. Sheād started this mess, she needed to fucking finish it. And I was on a stupid fucking time limit. Had to try this goddamn dessert tray. Fuck. I was just aware of one very clear thing. . . I was aware that there was no way I could go out like this. At that thought, I lifted my hand from my aching dick. Damn near ready to bust and lacking real attention. I let my boxers snap against my hips. Leaning against the wall, I got into the best position I could to get a picture for her.Ā
I opened the camera in my texts with her, letting my hand go to grip my straining cock over my briefs. Tilting my phone just right, I made sure she could see the entire imprint. Every detail. Tip to base. My wrist lifted my sweater just a bit. And from the exposed skin at the bottom of my abdomen and down, it was clear what was happening in my damn underwear. Sheād be able to see what the fuck was going on for me right now. What sheād caused.Ā
As I finished taking the picture, feeling satisfied with the result, my phone buzzed in my hand. Her name, yet again, at the top of my screen. But I couldnāt read her text before I sent the photo, as was the case with iPhones. So, very quickly, I went ahead and sent it so I could see what sheād said.Ā
Y/n, 10:06 p.m.: Please, Jake. Tell me about this āstunt.ā And how it concerns you.Ā
Oh? Okay.
Me, 10:06 p.m.: youāre wearing my damn shirt, y/n. Thatās how the fuck it concerns me
At the same time I finished that text, my picture was finally sent.Ā
Me, 10:06 p.m.: so. now thanks to you my dick hurts like a motherfucker. I want your tight fuckin pussy around me so damn bad but I canāt have that shit can I?
Shockingly, she didnāt take forever to respond this time. It appeared all sheād needed was a damn reality check.
Y/n, 10:06 p.m.: I never said you couldnāt have my pussy.
She was determined to make me go crazy. . . goddammit. Though, I was soon distracted by her next text, which made it clear to me that sheād seen my photo.
Y/n, 10:07 p.m.: Oh.. okay. Fuck me, then, huh? Wanna fuck me over with a picture like that? Real nice, babe. Way to return the favor.
Dammit. I wished I could fuck her. My hand slipped into my briefs again as I sent my text. I imagined how I'd hold her hips. . . my dick, pounding into that slick heat over and over and over. . . Damn. It was hard to type with one hand, but so fucking worth it to (hopefully) get off with her help. . . It had been too damn long. Come on, y/n. . .
Me, 10:07 p.m.: damn right Iāll fuck you, baby. If I had MY way Iād fuck you right here, right now. Take you out to the fucking middle of this restaurant. Put on a little show for everyone... show them how damn well I can fuck that sweet pussy
The thought was debilitating. My knees, getting weak as Iād typed that shit. I would love to show her off to all of the people in this goddamn establishment. Make everyone else appreciate this perfect woman.Ā Those swollen tits, already so much bigger than theyād once been. And that was considering theyād already been ideal before. Prettiest, perkiest fuckinā tits. And, the bigger they got, the more of them I got to appreciate. And that ass. . . It just got bigger and rounder, the more she grew with my baby.Ā Then there was the cutest damn bump; always growing with that hard ass work I couldnāt even begin to pretend to imagine. She was working fucking magic in that body every damned day. I'd never admired a woman so much in my life.
Fuck it all. I could've blow my fuckin' load at the thought alone. How indescribably hot it was that she was taking such care, every damn day, of my baby that lived inside of her. My hand began to move in a pattern of torturously slow and a speed right in the middle of fast and slow. . . Had to pace myself. . . I wasnāt going to last with this thought process.
Y/n, 10:08 p.m.: Fuck, Jake. Shut the fuck up.
Me, 10:08 p.m.: no way baby. Itās my turn to make YOU imagine this shitĀ
Y/n, 10:07 p.m.: Now youāre trying to get the upper hand? Is that how it is, Jake?Ā
Me, 10:08 p.m.: seems fair⦠Wouldnāt you say?
Y/n, 10:08 p.m.: I'm just pissed to hell that youāre not going to send me a fully naked picture of your pretty dick. Thatās fucking rude, babe.
The little grin that lifted my lips was out of nothing but pure appreciation for her. God. She made my fucking head spin. She was a dream and a half. And now that Iād had a bite of her again, allowed myself to give in to what Iād been keeping myself from? Itād been bad enough when sheād given me that incomparable head at the fuckinā stoplight a while back. . . A domestic ass grocery trip that had turned into a whole lot more. . . Satisfied more than her cravings that night.Ā
But, honestly. . . While the head was fuckinā killer, her body was the one that deserved worship. All of her. . . Goddammit. And now that I knew how much sweeter her pussy tasted? My hand started to move in languid, pulsing pumps up and down my dick, thinking of her body. . . How delicious she was. . . Fuck. It was only a month or so ago, Iād read that pregnant women sometimes emanate a different smell. . . a different taste. . . And now that I knew that shit was goddamned true? I couldnāt control when my hand began to move a touch faster, fist tightening in a way that had my eyes daring to cross. Her pregnant bodyā fuck everything on this earth that wasnāt her and her beautiful body.Ā
My mind had been a constant loop of her bedroom. Nonstop. I could still taste her. . . Fuckinā swore on that shit. Even before pregnancy, nothing on the goddamned earth had tasted better than her release. But now that she was carrying my baby? It was even more magnificent. It was warm fucking honey. More delicious than that. . . the most addictive, intoxicating taste. A drug that I couldnāt get enough of and wanted to keep devouring.Ā I shook my head of this path of thought, coming back to reality to text her back. She was walking on thin damn ice with me.
Me, 10:09 p.m.: you donāt get to talk about me being rude when you started this shit, baby. I wouldnāt be in the fuckin bathroom at this fuckass restaurant if you hadnāt posted your little story
Y/n, 10:10 p.m.: did you listen to the song?Ā
God, y/n. My hand stilled around my dick, pausing so I could focus on only her. I couldnāt take much more of this. . .Ā
Me, 10:10 p.m.: couldnāt. You posted it while I was at the damn table with my girlfriend
Y/n, 10:10 p.m.: But you said that youāre in the bathroom now?
Me, 10:10 p.m.: Yes
Y/n, 10:11 p.m.: So⦠listen to the damn song. Tell me if you remember that melody.
God, her love for music was so sexy to me. I couldnāt even be mad when I let go of my dick to gain some sanity. This woman captivated me on a regular basis with how much she loved music. That wall at home, with racks of vinyl. . . Seriously. Music was a way of life for her. She translated her emotions using it. Just like me. Women like her werenāt only rare, they were fucking extinct. We talked to each other with melodies and rhythms. And sometimes, it was only with our eyes. God.
Like that night at the bar when sheād caught me, unabashedly eyefucking her. Then, to make matters worse, she'd held my gaze like her life had depended on it. Iād seen every emotion pass from her irises to mine. We hadnāt been talking at the time, so this had been a big moment for me. Sheād known ā she knew ā what that song was to us. āYouāre All I Needā and āNatural Womanā were our songs. But, for some reason, "You're All I Need", specifically, would forever feel like making love to her. . . There was no stopping the imagining of her tight pussy around my dick when I heard that song in particular. Shit, even that night, Iād reminisced about fucking her to that song with Maya sitting right next to me.Ā
But. . . I couldnāt feel too bad. Because it was y/n. And to think sheād been sitting there, knowingly pregnant with my baby as weād shared that moment. . . It made me sort of angry, sure. But not so much anymore. No, now it was just real damn captivating to me that sheād been so openly obvious about all she was feeling. With my baby in her belly. Even if it were just with her eyes. . . her eyes meant the world.Ā
Carrying Lavender had helped y/n. Our baby girl had assisted in her being braver with her emotions. . . and I fucking loved it. Lavender and music ā working together to bring this enigmatic, worthy woman out of her convoluted and complicated shell. She was still hiding, yes, but she was easing back into that girl from the summertime. The one whoād wanted me to stop in the middle of sex to put on an Aretha vinyl. . . . The love Iād felt for her when sheād asked that of me. Iād felt so in love with her in that moment. . . on that rainy morning. I had known then that my love and admiration for her had surpassed any and everything else in my life. . . . God.Ā
Why did that have to change? Why had she so willingly let me go? Was it all trauma related? Or was there a part of her that really didnāt want me? Because, there was no forgetting how easily sheād drawn lines. I just had to remind my (hopeful) thoughts. . . even if she was coming back to that version of herself now, she had still put up this massive roadblock back then that had changed things. Not everything, but enough.Ā
Though, whatever may have changed and would continue to change, sheād always hold a place in my heart. Firmly in her grasp. Sheād always live there. No matter how much sheād hurt or would continue to hurt me, her spot in my heart was eternal. I felt this all-encompassing ache at the thought of her that Iād never felt before her, or since her.Ā . . Only y/n.
Iād felt it everyday for her since the moment Iād laid eyes on her. And, as I stood in this bathroom, with her on the other side of the phone. . . I realized just how far sheād truly come. Where she was once afraid of letting me in at all, apparently now she was okay with publicly posting a song I should recognize the melody to. . . And with a sensual photograph of her, at that? This was all a huge fucking deal for me. And, well. . . that shit was just hot as fuck.Ā
As I clicked through my phone, to see her story again, I paused on my home screen for a a brief moment. Appreciated the picture Iād taken of a sonogram shot. . . No gender reveal was obvious ā didnāt want anyone knowing that yet. Well, besides Josh. . . who Iād spilled that shit to (couldnāt help myself ā had to tell my fuckinā twin). I couldnāt help but admire my baby girl. She was the first thing I saw on my phone, every time I sused it. She'd successfully secured her place on my lock and home screen.Ā
Iād just been too consumed in her mother for the past several minutes to pause on her picture until now. . . God, I loved this little girl. So much more than she already knew. Didnāt know until her ā how much one could love another - I loved this little, tiny person so goddamn much. This tiny person I hadnāt even held in my arms yet. . . But god, Iād kill for that little girl. Already.Ā
When y/nās story was on my phone screen again, I took a moment to just look at her (again). But after Iād taken a proper amount of time to ogle at the damn photo of my dreams, I let the story play through again. Tried to ignore my stupid, impossibly hard dick for y/n, and turned up the sound.
The song on her story was incredible. Not something Iād normally have found to put on a playlist, but it was damned good. And her taste to a T. A track, completely composed with an orchestra. No lyrics. Just melody. A symphonic melody. I had an affinity for orchestral compositions, so Iād immediately closed out the story when the little snippet ended. Searched for it on Spotify, then immediately added it to a playlist I had specifically for that style of music.Ā
Orchestral Equilibrium was what Iād titled the playlist, long ago when I'd made it. And, I instantly pressed the box and the square, sending the list in a text to y/n. Just wanted her to have access to a playlist I loved so much. Because, apparently, she loved these types of arrangements as well. A lover of philharmonic symphonies, too? On top of her other otherworldly tastes in genre? She was a woman unlike any other, truly.Ā
Me, 10:14 p.m.: added it to my playlist :) that arrangement is fantastic
Y/n, 10:14 p.m.: š„¹š¤Iām really glad you liked it.
I assumed another text was coming. . . I just knew sheād send something along the lines of ābut⦠do you remember me playing it?ā. . . Something of the sort. Sheād asked a question, after all. Needed her answer. So, when the ellipses appeared and then disappeared to be replaced by a new text, I wasnāt surprised in the slightest.
Y/n, 10:15 p.m.: Do you remember me playing it though?? š¤
And there we go, I breathed a laugh to myself as I read it, the grin still stuck on my face. I had quoted it practically verbatim, too. Knew her well. And while I hadnāt heard this version specifically yet, Iād heard one a lot like it. . . So, hastily, so as not to lose y/n on the other end of the phone, I pulled up my Spotify again.Ā
When I opened the app, it was still showing my Orchestral Equilibrium playlist. It took me zero time to realize it had a new like. One like, where thereād been none before. The grin that floated to my features was the most natural reaction to something so precious. She was precious. Such a small act that. But, I knew that as a fellow music lover, the act was as big to her as it was to me.
After a second, I typed in the song āWe Might Even Be Falling In Love.ā The title of the song from her story. And the first result, a black and white picture of a man and woman, caught my eye. I recognized it. From y/nās Apple CarPlay screen. I pressed play on the song, pulled up the album photo to get a good look at it. Yeah. I remembered it. What the screen had looked like the day sheād picked me up from the guitar lesson. The lesson I had not wanted to be at, but kept a positive face about. I had wanted to be with y/n that day. . . Could still remember that shit.
(Same as every day Iād had something going on, when sheād been free.Ā Was even worse when I'd wake up with her wrapped around me and have to say goodbye. . . Wasn't to say that, on those mornings, the goodbye sex wasn't real damn good.)
Music was the way my brain moved. I lived in a constant state of melodious tunings. My mind, an assonance of grandeur, all on its own. Iād gotten so used to it, I hardly realized it wasnāt normal to hear music on a constant loop in your head. But, because my brain worked that way, I could hear a song and be transported back to moments in my past instantly.Ā
The carās cool air had been blowing through her lustrous locks and against her radiant, sun kissed face. She might as well have been moving in slow motion ā like a fuckinā romance film. Iād watched the goosebumps appear on her flushed skin, the freckles thatād twinkled on her beautiful face. The twitch of her nose when a few strands of hair had tickled her face.
Iād watched her so closely ā observed every intricate detail of her features. She was spellbinding. Irresistibly breathtaking in every possible capacity. It had been out of my control entirely when Iād gone to grip her thigh, wishing I was touching her skin for extra relief from the skin to skin contact. Yet, even though sheād been wearing jeans, Iād taken advantage of what I could do to calm her. Sheād seemed burdened, as always. I'd always hated how much she kept on her shoulders. Wanted to take it all away from her. Make things easier.
The way Iād felt for her ā it was beyond what words could articulate. I felt tender, yet animalistic for her all at once. Iād wanted to make everything better for her all of the time. The little switches in her mood were so apparent to me. . . I could tell from a mile away if she was thinking or in her head. . . And, for some reason, she had been at that moment. But it was okay. I could make it okay ā had to.Ā For her.Ā
Her cheeks had begun to grow pink, even with the air blowing on her face. So Iād known ā sheād felt at least a touch of peace. Her skin reacted beautifully with her emotions, a piece of art on her features that marked a pathway to her soul.Ā
In that moment, all Iād been able to think about was showing her what she meant to me. And while I hadnāt been in the right place to lay her down and express myself with my body and hers, I could do one thing. When her cheeks had grown a touch more pink, sheād bashfully grinned. The dimple in her cheek, such a tiny detail, but so precious to me. Itād encouraged me. This one way to convey what she meant to me came to mind. . . Carefully, hand still holding tightly to her thigh, I leaned over the armrest and touched my lips to her blushing cheek. Right where the dimple pinched her skin, my mouth met.
Her skin, like the finest velvet, under my lips. Fuck. Iād only lingered for a moment, knowing if I didnāt stop, Iād end up fucking her right there. And we had somewhere to be. Her grandparents were waiting.
But, before I could even move fully away, sheād been swiveling her body. Setting her eyes, once again, on the street ahead before she put the car in drive.Ā Why is she pulling away so quickly? What do I mean to her?, Iād wondered. Still, those thoughts constantly cycled through my head. What did I mean to her? In that moment, my eyes had drifted to her thigh and my hand there. My hand. . . it looked so fucking good against her, holding her.
Underneath my hand, I could feel her muscles flex as she pressed down on the brake to keep the car in place. Sheād been busy on her phone, thumbs moving as she scrolled. Without even glancing at the screen, Iād already known she was picking the perfect music to serenade us to our destination. Music was a big fuckinā deal to y/n. And that was fucking heaven for me. The first thing about her that made me fall.
And now, it made my heart beat fast for one more reason. I know that she had our baby girl listening to the best damn music. Lavender would, naturally, love music. I knew it. And that made my heart fuckin' rush with an exhilarated sort of adulation.
The song sheād ended up choosing, Iād genuinely really liked. It hadnāt been my taste, per se, but it couldāve been. Reminded me of her and her very eclectic taste. This style, one she really loved. I'd noticed. Those songs heavy with the bass and rhythm. A true rhythm and blues admirer. The way the bass bumped against the speakers. And the rhythm, really fucking delicious. It made my head bob, foot tapping to keep in time. Good fuckinā music, honestly. More Joshās speed than mine. But, more than him, it really, truly reminded me of y/n.
And the fact that I correlated this type of music to her. . .made it even better to me than if I were to try to give it a shot for Josh. No, for y/n, I was willing to immerse myself in her taste of music. Just a way for me to swim even deeper into the crashing waves of her soul.Ā
āI actually like this,ā Iād commented, trying to make things seem okay. Because they were. Had to convince her.Ā Was she doing okay? God, I hadnāt been able to tell. . .
She was worth knowing that her world was okay. That she was safe. She was worth all of that and more.
The summer had been one of the most incredible fantasies, come to life. Just a bit of a girl I wanted all of, but still. Iād gotten a bit. . . More than I could've gotten had I continued to dick around with her like the asshole I'd been before. So, I knew I'd treasure what I had gotten -forever. Though, frequently, back then when I'd have these thoughts, Iād reminded myself that she hadnāt wanted forever.Ā
Nonetheless, Iād caught onto these little quirks she had. I'd decided, however long sheād give me the access to her soul, I'd use every moment I could to discover more, more, more. Because of this, I had started to really notice those minuscule moments where sheād begin to pull away. Even if she did want to pull away. Even if she didnāt want me, Iād still wanted to help her. All I wanted to do was make things easier for her. Be a safe place for her. Her muscle had seemed to relax under my touch once sheād started to drive. Though, I had not wanted to move my hand from her. In fact, I did what the fuck I could with our location. Even if I couldnāt lay her down, I could still appreciate her - her body. Communicate my care for her, to her with my touch.Ā
Iād let my thumb twirl over her thigh, making thoughtful circles. Sheād sighed, seemed to enjoy the attention. And when sheād done that, Iād known she was feeling better. So, I continued, urging her to talk to me. Always wanted to talk to her. āWhatās it called?ā
I paused the song on my phone int the Carmella's bathroom, the memory still so clear in my head. And, the title of it. . . Had she been telling me something? With the song? The title, subject matter of the track. . . Made me wonder. My mind was suddenly, in the present time, going insane at the possibility that sheād been telling me something with her song choice way back then. . . Had I been too much of a moron to realize?Ā But - no. It didnāt matter now ā was too late now.Ā
Me, 10:17 p.m.: That night at your grandparents :) You played it on the way thereĀ
Me, 10:18 p.m.: I really did like the composition of it on your story. Itās gorgeous. Accompanies your picture real damn well š„
Y/n, 10:18 p.m.: š¤I really love it too⦠I thought of something after I posted it, though.Ā
Me, 10:19 p.m.: and whatās that?
Y/n, 10:19 p.m.: Something else happened right before I played that for you, too. Remember?Ā
Yes. Fuck yes, I remembered the entire night. Every single detail.
I'd taken my time with her that night. Laid her on her back, her tits, laying just like always on her soft chest, so pretty, full, and supple. I'd taken one of her smooth thighs and held it up by my arm as I'd fucked her with raw passion. Slow thrusts, on my knees to get the best angle to feel every bit of her, to make sure she could feel me. . . Every whimper and whine and moan that had fallen from her lips that night, the praise and encouragement I'd given her for the sounds - a little more notable than before. A momentous occasion, I'd call it. It had just felt different for me. After I'd witnessed her, breaking down. . . openly crying and panicking - desperate for comfort - in her grandparents' hallway.
The noises she'd made, as I fucked her slow and deep, hitting every inch of her with a feverish force. I'd taken that night as an opportunity to use my body as a vessel - to help her truly understand the fact that I was a safe ground for her to fall on. I always wanted to be safe person for her. I could only hope she felt as safe with me as I longed for her to. Then, at the end, as she'd fallen apart, soaking my dick in her release, she'd moaned from the pit of her tummy to the depths of her chest. Almost like she felt that same relief from the new connection. That beautiful sound, forever a part of my walls. Like it should have been.
This newer, revered sort of dance that had started happening between our bodies. It had always been more with her than any other woman, but that one morning, with the songs - things had changed. She'd given me a glimpse of her head and heart and past. And then directly after that conversation, the way I'd held her body on the pallet of blankets. I'd watched her so closely, every line of her face one I wanted memorized for all time. And, I'd almost damn well spilled into her on that living room floor because I'd been so distracted by her face and her noises - fuck. And then. . . there was that night, after her grandparents'. Before and afterwards, sheād let me in, just a little more - opened up to me. In the hallway and then right there in my bed. As weād laid in my bed, sweaty and fulfilled. Her hair fanned over my heaving chest, when she'd told me more details from her past. Told me enough that it had impacted me. I'd vowed to help her that night, and I'd kept that promise. Intended to keep it. As long as she'd let me.
But, now wasn't the time for reminiscing - my dick twitching in my pants, reminding me itself to get on with the fucking matter at hand. The memories of fucking her and the closeness - weren't doing me any favors. Goddamn. I needed her help. With one thing in particular.Ā Soon.
Y/n, 10:20 p.m.: It was the night I got to see Maya for the first time. Realized youād been seeing this fucking goddess of a woman for lessons all summer. Felt so insecure that youād been around her for her lessons every week.
Again, with her assumptive fucking ass. Here we went. . .again.
Me, 10:20 p.m.: well. For one it wasnāt every week. She didnāt have lessons every weekĀ
Be easier on her, Jacob, a voice counseling me. One that sounded strangely like Josh.
Me, 10:20 p.m.: and two⦠Iām sorry you felt insecure⦠but there was never anything you needed to feel insecure about, honeyĀ
There were a few minutes between that text and her next one. . . I could only assume she was pondering something. Always in her damn head. I walked a fine line whenever sheād get like this. I always contemplated whether to insert myself in her thoughts to get them to shut up. Or, whether it was best to just let her think through it, so she could think and heal ā uninterrupted.Ā
She had to figure some of this shit out on her own (with Giaās help, of course). . . But it didnāt mean it made it easy for me to just sit around and watch. I hated watching her, while also knowing she was spiraling. This was at least the slightest bit easier, though. . . Since I didnāt have to watch her pretty face fold in that way it would. Her brows scrunched, mouth puckered, or a straight line as sheād chew the inside of her lip or cheek. This incredible woman, rigid with cruel self doubt and years worth of confusion that was unraveling. I typed and deleted and re-typed a few things. . . But, after a minute of doing so, I decided I needed to give her space.
Iād learned there was little I could do to get her out of her headspaces, anyhow, so I usually just waited them out. . . Unless I found it was absolutely necessary for me to step in and battle the voices. Help her battle these hateful, never-ending thoughts. . . So, instead, I used my time for good and checked on that Ovia app sheād told me about. Checked on Lavenderās growth for the week. Just to remind myself of all of the terms. . . I checked this thing every fucking day. Wanted to know exactly what was going on with her little body.
Every time I'd checked the app, I'd read through the same paragraphs of information for that given week. The first paragraph of information for this week explained a bunch. Her neurons, making connections with her muscles. . . helping her to gain strength in her legs. . . Her arms and legs, in proportion with the rest of her tiny body, now. . . Only about nine inches long (at most). . . About nine ounces (again, at most). . . She was starting to become covered in a waxy substance called Vernix Caseosa, which protected her unharmed skin from any amniotic fluid. . .I was losing myself in my girl, completely forgetting about everything else for a minute as everything became about her. My body, the least of my concerns ā losing speed and fucking forgotten as it all became about Lavender. But, I hadnāt been able to get much further than the first bit of information. Because, after refreshing my memory of a few of her developments, my phone was buzzing in my hands. Y/nās name, at the top of my screen.
I gave a silent goodbye to Lavender as I went back to her mother.
Y/n, 10:23 p.m.: Itās fine. Itās in the past now. I just thought about that shit after I posted it⦠Sooo, Iām just glad I gave that shit a new correlation tonight. Now it belongs to being excited for my baby.
Her saying that made something in my mind click. It had clicked before, of course. The night we got high ā first timeĀ Iād fully realized. Her own damn mouth, telling me so. . . And multiple times since, when sheād spoken of Maya. . . When sheād seen Maya that night, after the lesson ā that had really been the beginning of the end for us. Knowing y/n, it made perfect sense for her to go down a rabbit hole at seeing Maya.Ā Seeing how beautiful Maya was. . . Should have known y/n would take that the wrong way andĀ compare herself. Why did she do that though? If only she wouldāve known. No one had ever compared to her in my mind.Ā Y/n's beauty was unparalleled.
Iād tried to explain it all to her. Tried real damn hard to communicate my feelings on it to her. . . Over and over. She just never listened. Or cared to listen to me. Sheād chosen to be stubborn, give in to the harshness of her thoughts. . . continued to do so. And now. . . I was with Maya. In a very serious relationship with her. And y/n was being very clear about it being the past. She had no desire to discuss it. No desire to approach the shit that had come from that night sheād seen Maya for the first time.
Now my mind was spinning with the following weeks. The one truly positive thing that had followed was the night weād conceived Lavender. The night we'd gotten high. . . Then how itād all fuckin' downspiraled. . . With no way for me to stop it. No competing with y/nās stubborn insecurities and persistent moments of self-deprecation. . . That only led to self-destruction.Ā Iād had no chance to get through. Her mind had been made up and everything had changed. Those weeks after, when Iād taken time to fall for Maya, after y/n had closed herself off completely. . . I hadnāt wanted to look at her, she'd hurt me so damn bad. But. . . I hadnāt wanted to leave the apartment, either. Even with more money, Iād wanted to stay close to her. I was fucked in the brain. Stupid.
But Iād been desperate for her ā all the while, heartbroken and lost and confused. And she hadnāt given two fucks about any of it. And that was a paramount reason I'd stayed with Maya. She was consistent. Nothing to question about her intentions with me. While y/n had ignored me, Maya had been there to pick up every single piece - just like she'd been there for me before. . . after my first heartbreak.
The same woman as before. . . Maya was always. the. same. Except this time, Maya and I hadn't been 'the same'. Weād become more. It meant more to me than aimlessly fucking a ridiculously hot woman against and on every solid surface of her giant home. Because the relationship with y/n had been different than the relationship with Amelia. After Amelia, I'd believed love was nothing more than a social construct to destroy the human mind. Stopped believing in it. Because I'd realized that I hadn't actually been in love with Amelia for a long while. She'd been a high school girlfriend that I'd tried to extend past high school.
That was why y/n had made me so angry at first. When we'd first met. I hadn't wanted to be in love again because I hadn't thought love was real. And she'd shown me, so damn quickly, that I'd been dead wrong about love. Because, with y/n, I felt it all. Exponential. Otherworldly. An astronomical and cosmic connection, only designed in the stars for us to find. A purposeful accident, finding true love. I'd been destined to find y/n. Everything had led me to her, it'd seemed. Love had been real. A way of life, not a pointless, hollow sensation like I'd believed before her.
So, after y/n, I'd been so hungry to find that connection with someone else. I'd been embarrassed and ashamed that I'd fallen so hard for a woman that hadn't felt the same for me. . . . At least not enough to fight for me. I'd known love was real this time. And I'd needed to find it with someone else to erase the marks y/n had carved into my heart. So, who better than a woman I'd already gotten to know, just a little, over the summer? And even better that she'd been someone that made y/n jealous. That had been an asshole move, yes. But, wise decisions weren't ever made with a genuinely broken heart. Though, I'd come to quickly find that the love I'd felt with y/n was exclusive to y/n. I'd found a love in Maya, but not the same as y/n. I didn't want to admit that I loved her anymore. I'd worked to erase that. . . But my love for Maya's just paled in comparison to the love I'd felt for y/n.
So, while y/n had lose some of me, she hadn't lost all of me. She still had me. A big fuckinā piece. Always would. And no, the āpieceā of me wasnāt our Lavender. Our Lavender really just worked as an additional metaphor for how much of me y/n truly had. . . I was an eternal fool for y/n.Ā
But. . . Not completely. I wasnāt fool enough to risk my heart in her hands again.Ā Because, well. Sheād proven she didnāt want to fight for me. She didnāt want to listen. She hadnāt listened to me.
And, at the moment, I had to reject the overwhelming urge to make this conversation become any more than it was. . . Reject the urge to fight for her. When I wasnāt sure sheād ever do it for me. Weād lost that. That chance. Because I was with Maya now. And I didnāt want to make that shit change. That stability. Not for the very real possibility that y/n would only ever repeatedly say no to me. All for the sake of her own damned pride or whatever the fuck. . . Hell, her lack of love for me, perhaps? I really did still question the hell out of that shit. All I knew for sure was that the woman I was currently with loved me. And I loved her. Fuck yes I loved Maya. Who wouldnāt?
But. . . when I glanced down at the screen, my heart was no longer on Maya. Because I saw a word. An important word. That nine ounce little girl. . . whose arms and legs were finally proportional with her body. . . This word that brought me back, crawling on my knees like a lost puppy, to y/n. Because on top of being so much to me, she was also the mother of my child. . . A fucking superwoman. Just had to correct her phrase. . .Ā
Me, 10:25 p.m.: our baby⦠:)Ā Ā
Y/n, 10:25 p.m.: Yes. Of course. Our baby. :)š
Ridiculous as it was, I had to resist the urge to cry. I had never felt this effect from a woman until her. This incessant, perpetual longing. A longing that hurt, yet felt so fulfilling, all at once. And it just continued to be true; because, no matter how mad she made me, my dick was still plenty hard. Only for her. It was still ready, for something it wasnāt going to get tonight. I was literally staying rock fuckin' solid at the simple, pathetic fact that she was texting me.Ā And, with barely any time to process it, she was texting me again.
Y/n, 10:26 p.m.: By the way⦠you mentioned youāre in the bathroom?Ā
Y/n, 10:26 p.m.: ā¦are you still?Ā
Didnāt know where this was going, but it took me no time to respond. My dick twitched in anticipation. . . Getting harder again, coming back to life fully with almost zero assistance. . . Sorcery.Ā
Me, 10:27 p.m.: yep. All because of YOUR damn picture. Fuckin ridiculous. All your damn faultĀ
Y/n, 10:28 p.m.: Well, you got your fucking revenge, Jacob. I had to go to the damn bathroom after YOUR picture. And those texts⦠about fucking me??? Damn it, Jacob. Thank god for family stalls.
Me, 10:28 p.m.: youāre telling me lolĀ
Y/n, 10:29 p.m.: And a safety rail to lean my ass against⦠better angle for my fingers. Humiliating as fuck, but. It's what I have. You knew youād do this to me, Jacob Thomasā¦Ā š
And⦠my hand was going to hold my dick. Yet again. The back of my head hit the wall of the one stall. This was torture. My dick was red fuckin' hot with this aggravating need for her. . .Ā
Me, 10:29 p.m.: damn straight I knew that shit, baby. You gonna fuck yourself well with those fingers for me? Make that pussy ache a little more for me?
I stroked my dick slowly. But, as good as it felt, it could only be so enjoyable. My hand was not even nearly soft enough to replicate her hands. Fuck me. I needed her.
Y/n, 10:29 p.m.: Fuck, Jake. Yes⦠So wet for you, baby. Gonna do the best I can to pretend my fingers are your dick... but I know they wonāt even fucking compare. Miss it so bad... Been so long.
God. My fist tightened around myself, desperate for the pressure. Still wasnāt enough. I could feel sweat, accumulating at my hairline. My hair, sticking to my neck as my breath came out in hot puffs. I was a mess.
Y/n, 10:30 p.m.: And⦠you were right when you said I started it. Really fucking loved wearing your shirt. Made me miss you more than I already was. And I just had to include you in those pictures somehow⦠š
Fuck. The heart? And she was admitting that she missed me? Today had been a clusterfuck of emotions. . . My heart was barely holding on. . .She was so damn special to me. And I needed her so desperately at this moment. Hated the stupid ass result of last night.Ā
Me, 10:31 p.m.: I miss you baby. So damn bad
She didnāt respond to that right away. It made me worry for a hot damn minute about whether or not Iād said too much and freaked her out. . . But I didnāt sit there for too long. Made myself gather my thoughts so we could finish this damn thing. My dick was begging me to do something about it.Ā Matter at hand, Jacob.
Me, 10:34 p.m.: so that post...
Y/n, 10:34 p.m.: What about it?
Her instantaneous response reassured me that I hadnāt needed to worry, so that made it easy for me to pick up exactly where I wanted. . . Start us down the path that I was desperate to go down.Ā
Me, 10:35 p.m.: letās talk about you wearing my shirt
Y/n, 10:35 p.m.: Letās.
Me, 10:35 p.m.: you wore it for me? Thought about me every time you spread your pretty legs for those pictures?Ā
Y/n, 10:35 p.m.: Jake. Letās just say itās safe to assume that if I post myself in that type of position, itās for you. Whether Iām in your clothes or not⦠š¶
Y/n, 10:36 p.m.: I really did think about you the whole time I was taking themā¦Ā
Hell fuckinā right she thought about me. . . .
Me, 10:36 p.m.: oh yeah?Ā
Y/n, 10:36 p.m.: Yeah. Your shirt felt so good against my nipples, baby⦠:( Might sound weird, but...
My hand squeezed tight at the base, flexing intermittently to get some mild relief. Then, I skated to the top, massaging only my tip. . . Imagined her mouth. How good it would feel to have my dick, about ready to bust, pressed between her tits. . .
Me, 10:37 p.m.: fuck, y/n. Not weird at all baby. I hope to god it helped you in some way. Hated leaving your beautiful body last night
Y/n, 10:38 p.m.: Not my favorite situation. But it is what it is.Ā
Me, 10:38 p.m.: is what it is
Yeah, Jake. It is what it fuckinā is and it will continue to be like this if you donāt get a damn move on.Ā
Me, 10:39 p.m.: so my shirt⦠did you get yourself off after you took those? Wearing it?
Y/n, 10:39 p.m.: No, actually⦠:( Went to dinner with Elsie and Josh right after taking them. No time. Didnāt help that they made me wait for pictures while they had a damn quickie⦠lol. Got behind on time⦠no time for my imagination to go as wild as I wantedā¦Ā
Me, 10:40 p.m.: those fuckersā¦Ā
Y/n, 10:40 p.m.: Literally. Hahah :pĀ
I glanced at the time at the top of my phone. . . Iād been in here for forty minutes. . . If this didnāt already look suspicious, god knew it was about to. . . If I didnāt get the fuck out of here and back to that table.
Me, 10:40 p.m.: but you had all that time while they were doing that shit⦠had you already been in my shirt?
Y/n, 10:41 p.m.: No. :( I wouldāve taken that opportunity to get off to you, wearing your clothes⦠right in the spot you fucked me with your mouth last night.Ā
God help me. My dick throbbed in my hand. I felt it ā that familiar sensation. . . . But I needed something more. I wasnāt going to finish until I had what I wanted from her. . . And I knew exactly what it was that I wanted.
Y/n, 10:41 p.m.: Promise I would have done itā¦Ā š¤
Me, 10:42 p.m.: prove it, thenĀ
Y/n, 10:42 p.m.: How the fuck am I supposed to do that? I donāt have your shirt.Ā
Me, 10:42 p.m.: you damn well know how, sweetheart
Y/n, 10:42 p.m.: Oh, do I?
My lips curled into a wry smile, my hand pausing on my cock to focus on her attitude. . . She was something else. And I needed her to quit with this shit before I decided to really take it out on her tomorrow night. . . She wouldnāt even know what was coming when Iād finally have the chance to walk through our front door. . .
Me, 10:43 p.m.: y/n. Baby. tell me what the fuck youāre wearing before I stop playing nice.
Y/n, 10:43 p.m.: You act as though Iām not pregnant with your child. Show me some respect.Ā
What she didnāt realize (or, maybe she did) was that there wasnāt a single woman that I respected more than her. She had all of my respect held in the palms of her pretty hands. Right where she held my useless heart. Her mind, her unparalleled beauty, her immaculate body. . .Fuck. I needed her. Every bit of her. My hand itched to continue its ministrations. . . But I had to get her to work with me.
Me, 10:44 p.m.: y/n. Dammit. I know you are and that shit turns me the fuck on. You know this. Jesus fuck.
Me, 10:44 p.m.: itās why Iām in this bathroom with my hand down my pants right now. The fact that you put that gorgeous body thatās holding my baby on display... Youāre making me wait and you know damn well how all of this is making me feel. How your body makes me feel...Ā
Y/n, 10:45 p.m.: Do I?Ā
Her little games were doing something real damn bad to me. I dropped my dick with an exhausted huff. I grasped my phone in both of my hands, willing my dick to be patient. If I kept playing with myself, I wasnāt going to last worth shit. And I needed to fucking last. She needed to stop. . . . Was walking a real fragile line with me right now. . .
Me, 10:45 p.m.: if you ask me that question one more damn timeā¦..
Me, 10:45 p.m.: seriously. Need I give you a play by play of last night? Did I not make that shit stick? Did my mouth not do a good enough job for you? Seemed to, but seems like youāre not thinking about how well I treated youā¦Ā hm?
Y/n, 10:46 p.m.: Fuck, Jake. Of course it stuck. I can still feel you between my thighs⦠So damn wet for you right now. Have been since you left. I just... NEED you. I don't think you understand the dire need, baby. Iām fucking miserable as hell that youāre not here. Need you so damn bad.Ā
Me, 10:46 p.m.: there we go, sweetheartā¦
The fuck I didn't understand. I understood real damn well. I couldnāt get her sweet taste out of my mouth if I had tried. Fuck that dessert tray.Ā After last night, I was completely convinced that there was nothing on this planet as sweet as her. Intoxicating. Addicting. My entire body was on edge for her and the things her body could do. . . If I, god forbid, never had her again, Iād spend the rest of my days searching for a taste so sweet. It would be a fruitless outcome, though. Only she could ever satisfy such an intense craving.Ā
Y/n, 10:47 p.m.: And that damn shirt was nothing compared to your mouth.Ā
Me, 10:47 p.m.: I hope the fuck it wasnāt. I donāt want anything else on your body that makes you feel as good as my mouth doesĀ
Y/n, 10:48 p.m.: You donāt need to worry about that, baby. Iām not the one on a date with my girlfriend, now am I?Ā
And there she was again, walking that extremely fragile line. . . .
Me, 10:48 p.m.: watch it
She was quick with her response to that. Seemed like sheād been waiting for it.
Y/n, 10:48 p.m.: Why? When Iām going to have to think about HER getting you off all fucking night? Nothing against her, but⦠damn it. The idea of another woman on you makes me want to tear down this entire establishment.Ā
Fuck. My dick was pleading for attention from me. The way sheād said all of that made me want to drop everything and go to her. . . . Let her be the woman with my dick in her mouth. God only knew I wanted her to be the woman doing that. . . At least for tonight. Didnāt want anyone else.
Y/n, 10:49 p.m.: These pregnancy hormones are no joke. Lol.Ā
Yeah. . . and neither was the idea of leaving my girlfriend, high and dry in her hometown. Knew I couldnāt do that shit. So, y/n needed to do what she could from there to prove to me that she could be the woman getting me off. . . Do what she could to make me reach that peak. . . It wasnāt impossible. Not at all.Ā
Me, 10:50 p.m.: Y/n. Maya does not have to be the one getting me off tonight⦠Iām talking to YOU for a reason. Iāve left her at the damn table for you
Y/n, 10:50 p.m.: What does she think youāre doing??
Me, 10:50 p.m.: the fuck does that matter?
Y/n, 10:50 p.m.: It matters.
Dear god.
Me, 10:51 p.m.: she thinks Iām talking to Josh
Y/n, 10:51 p.m.: ??? This entire time?!
Y/n, 10:51 p.m.: Jacob Thomas Kiszka.Ā Get back out to the table. Jesus.
This woman was surely mistaken if she believed I was about to move out of this bathroom in this state. Absolutely fuckinā not. Besides. . . I didnāt want to follow her instructions. Iād told her this.
Me, 10:52 p.m.: what did I tell you about telling me what to do?Ā
Y/n, 10:52 p.m.: What the fuck are you going to do about it from there, smartass? I donāt need her to find out youāre talking to me and be mad at me. So, please. Itās Christmas. Supposed to avoid the negative shit at this time of year.
If Maya were to find out (god, please, no) and wanted to be mad at y/n, that would be fucking ridiculous. I wouldnāt let her be mad at y/n over this. If she were to say something, I would correct that shit right away. But she wasnāt going to find out it was y/n I was speaking to. . . Wanted to keep this thing a secret, so it could last as long as possible. . . Just like summertime, if this was what I was going to get with y/n (all she'd give and all Iād let myself have, too), I wanted to savor it.
Me, 10:52 p.m.: why would I do that yet when I havenāt gotten what I wanted?Ā
Y/n, 10:53 p.m.: What is it that you want? Want me to talk to you until you finish?Ā Let's get it done, then. So you can go back to the table.
Okay, the fucking attitude needed to stop.
Me, 10:53 p.m.: jesus. Donāt think you could sound more thrilled if you tried
Y/n, 10:53 p.m.: Well, Iām pissed, Jake. Pissed that this isn't happening in person. Pissed that I couldnāt do it last night. Pissed youāre not here still. Wanna get down on my knees for you more than anything. Suck that pretty cock clean...Fuck! But all I can do is WISH I fucking could. Like an idiot. It all just pisses me the fuck off.Ā
Y/n, 10:54 p.m.: Happy?
Damn. I was just relieved we were, apparently, in the same damn boat.
Me, 10:54 p.m.: well, no. Iām not āhappyā at all... Iām pissed about all of that too
Y/n, 10:54 p.m.: Just hate that we have to do this through the phone. It sucks and itās stupid.Ā
Me, 10:54 p.m.: and I agree with that too... Iām sorry baby :(
Y/n, 10:55 p.m.: Not your fault her dad lives twelve hours away. Ha :/Ā
Me, 10:55 p.m.: What can I do for you? Wanna help you feel better now. First. Now that I know you're as sad as I am. Need you to be better...Ā
Y/n, 10:55 p.m.: Um, no� I wanna help YOU, Jake. However I can, from here. I need to be the one to please you, baby. Let me.
And, like an asshole, I couldn't deny her. Wanted to hold true to my word, but. . . She'd gotten me here, after all.
Me, 10:55 p.m.: oh yeah?
Y/n, 10:56 p.m.: Baby, I take f u l l responsibility for being the one that caused you to be in that damn bathroom. And I intend on NOT letting anyone else see you through it⦠That dick is MINE to take care of right now and I promise Iāll do it well.
Well then. If she could prove to be a good girl, sheād be able to see me through it. . . And my dick was absolutely hers. She was damn right.
Y/n, 10:56 p.m.: What can I do for you, baby?
My hand jerked against my dick at the mere thought of what I was about to ask her for. . .Ā Had been thinking about them all night. . .
Me, 10:57 p.m.: I wanna see those beautiful tits⦠need to see ALL of you
Y/n, 10:57 p.m.: Go look at your girlfriendās.Ā
The way my eyebrow raised at my screen. The scoff that left my lips, entirely provoked by her behavior. . . She was testing me. Not being good for me. . . So, Iād test her right back. See if she truly wanted to be a little tease. . . And I was genuinely wondering. . . Wasnāt sure what exactly she was doing with this. I assumed she was playing around, but. . . Just in case.
Me, 10:58 p.m.: is that really what you want me to do?
Her response was instantaneous.
Y/n, 10:58 p.m.: Not at all.Ā
Okay. Was just being a little tease, then. . . Had a feeling. Now, back to our regularly scheduled programming. . .
Me, 10:59 p.m.: thatās what I thought. Don't be a fucking brat, baby... you know better
Me, 10:59 p.m.: Yes I do... I'm sorry. š§āāļø
Oh. On her knees? Fuck. If only she were fucking here. Before she took any picture, I had to know. So, with a swift thumb, I began my burning question.Ā
Me, 10:59 p.m.: tell me firstā¦
Y/n, 10:59 p.m.: Anything.
Donāt say that. Fuck.
Me, 11:00 p.m.: you still wearing that lacy thing from your picture? Under your clothes? I could see the entire outline of your nipples through that bra⦠And those panties did very, very little to hide youā¦Ā
Damn I wanted to get possessive so badly. Kept typing and re-typing. . . But. . . I had literally zero say in that considering I chose to not be with her. It was just. . . the more I thought about how revealing that shit was ā how it hadnāt been for only me. I wanted her to know that sense of jealousy. Wanted her to know how my stomach twisted at the thought of anyone else seeing her like that. Wanted her for my eyes only. But I knew that was not right and not the move. Sometimes, I was ashamed of the way my brain worked. . . Stupid ass shit that came with the chemically wired male brain. It was what I always accredited feelings like that to. At the end of the day, I was only a man. A man who was weak for her. . . and that body was just too damn beautiful for me to be willing to share it. But I had to be okay with sharing it. She wasnāt mine. And she could flaunt that body if she wanted. Whether we were together or not.
Y/n, 11:02 p.m.: That was the point ;)
When my phone buzzed next, my eyes went to the time. And my stomach fell. Because, fuck. It was already past 11:00? I couldnāt even take time to appreciate her text. Because, when I'd glanced at the time, I'd felt like shit momentarily. This had taken much longer than Iād initially intended. . .I needed to finish this. And while I loved her flirtiness, my question was still hanging in the air and I needed an answer before we moved on.
Me, 11:02 p.m.: you still havenāt answered me.
Y/n, 11:02 p.m.: What was the question, again? Mustāve forgotten.
Me, 11:03 p.m.: why are you playing dumb with me? do you seriously enjoy putting me through this?
Y/n, 11:03 p.m.: š¤
She was so goddamn cute. Only y/n could succeed in making emoji reactions cute. Never felt like that before her about the stupid ass yellow faces.
Me, 11:03 p.m.: well. Since you wonāt answer me about the lace⦠I think the least you could do for me is let me see your tits
Y/n, 11:04 p.m.: Jesus. A bit needy, arenāt we?
Me, 11:04 p.m.: a bit patronizing, arenāt you?
Seriously? Out of everything, the word patronizing was going to burst her bubble? I could only guess that was why I was left on read for two solid minutes.
Y/n, 11:06 p.m.: Practice a little patience, Jacob. You really donāt think youāll get what you want?
Patience? I had given her nothing but patience. I didnāt even have time for patience at the time being, but Iād damn well given it to her.Ā Had no choice.
God, no girl had ever put me in such a state. I felt utterly pathetic standing in a fucking bathroom, stroking myself because of the unrelenting desire I felt for her. And the little game she was playing with me. . . She knew what she was doing to me. She was no fool. I swallowed what little saliva was left in my dry mouth when I watched those little bubbles appear under her last text. Waiting, patiently, to see those incredible tits that nothing could compare to. . . Because apparently, I was going to get what I wanted. . .Ā The pure anticipation of seeing them pop up on the screen of my phone had my cock pulsing, throbbing. Fuck. I needed her so bad ā it was hurting me. What the fuck had she done to me?
Y/n, 11:08 p.m.: Here you go, baby š
Fuck, fuck, fuck.Ā
But ā I stood there for a bit. . . wondering why I was seeing only words. No picture. Had to be the fucking cell service. Why was the service such shit in this goddamned bathroom at this very moment? Several seconds, too many seconds passed. . . as I waited for the next text from her to come through.Ā
And when it finally did. . . God, such a little fucking tease.Ā
Me, 11:09 p.m.: y/n.Ā
Y/n, 11:09 p.m.: Yes? ;)
Me, 11:09 p.m.: you know what I want, sweetheartā¦Ā Ā
Y/n, 11:10 p.m.: I was just answering your question about the lace piece... AND I showed my boobs. Just like you asked⦠Iām confused⦠Is that not what you wanted? š¤
Well, she was right about that. She certainly answered my question. She was still donning that pretty black lace. Almost sheer enough to see what I was craving. Almost. Enough to make my dick ache all the more. So impossibly fucking hard for her. I needed more.Ā
The way sheād pulled her sweater below her tits, using her forearm to push them up, covering herself just enough with it that I couldnāt see everything the bra's material couldāve shown me. . . . Still, I bit my lip and willed my dick to calm down. Just the thought of her bare tits was enough to get me off. I had to see them. . . Nothing less. Couldnāt go the rest of the godforsaken night without having a photo of her tits to get me through it.Ā
Me, 11:11 p.m.: come on, baby... you know thatās not what the fuck I want. I need to see ALL of you... you give me what I want and I'll return the favor...Ā
I wanted to be pissed. But, fucking hell. I just couldnāt. She was my kryptonite.Ā The sweat was pooling on my palms. My phone was threatening to slip out of one hand, the other gripped tight around my dick, imagining it was her instead. (Fucking hilarious that I was even trying to imagine it was her ā she had the warmest fucking pussy. . . And so damn wet now that she was pregnant.Ā Couldnāt even explain how incredible that was, by the way - not even to myself.)
Y/n, 11:12 p.m.: Yeah? And what might that favor be?
Jesus. I could hear her saying that to me. Hushed and sultry, the sexiest voice Iād ever known. Especially in these types of moments. Sheād adopt a little rasp to her tone, just enough that her velvet voice would deepen just a bit. It took everything in me to not just call her. Listen to that pretty voice while I look at her incredible tits. I knew I couldnāt, though. This shit was risky enough. Couldnāt add her another layer to it.Ā
Me, 11:12 p.m.: well, you seemed awfully bent out of shape over not getting to see all of my dick⦠we help each other out in this little mess weāve created?
Y/n, 11:13 p.m.: Oh, so now youāre bribing me⦠Lucky enough for you, Iām not opposed to a little bribery. Especially if it means I get what I want.Ā
What she wants. Fuck.Ā
Y/n, 11:13 p.m.: And yes. Seeing your dick is exactly what I want right now, so.... š Just give me a sec, k?
I couldnāt bring myself to type another fucking word. All I could do was wait, stroke myself slowly in anticipation for her next message. That blinking ellipses. . . taunting me as I used every bit of my strength to not crumble. I had to hold myself the fuck together.Ā
And then. . . The photo finally came in.Ā
Those perfect, gorgeous tits on the screen of my phone. Fuck. No matter how many times Iād seen them, it was like the first time every time. The most beautiful set of full tits. Fuckin' stacked. She'd pushed them up with her forearm that rested beneath them. Her right hand cupping her left breast, fingers touching the perked nipple. And the right one, fully bare and exposed. Those tits. . . so round, always the perfect size to hold in the palm of my hand . . . But, now, big enough that they spilled from my grip. . . Just enough to make my dick throb at the thought. God, I could feel those pretty tits against my fingertips. . . In my mouth. So fucking soft. I pumped my dick, taking careful consideration for how close I was as I took in the entire image.
What I loved about the photo just as much, if not more than her chest, was that I could see the lower half of her face. Her rosy lips, kissable as fuck, curved in the sexiest little half-smile. Her bottom lip tucked deliciously under perfect teeth. Jesus, fuck.Ā I felt myself getting close, starting under my belly button, my balls tightening to the point of pain. But only the best kind of pain, of course. . . Just wished she was here to hold them in her hand. . . My dick felt hot, pulsing in my grip. . . I could feel it coming.Ā
Y/n, 11:15 p.m.: Well? I think I deserve to see what that ^^ did to you⦠;)
Me, 11:15 p.m.: you sure as fuck do, baby
Just like before, I opened the camera in our text thread and positioned the phone just right. Not much different than before, only I made sure that this time, sheād be able to really see what the fuck sheād done to me. How it was even worse than before. How close I was. . . Sheād been a good girl and she deserved to see just how good.Ā
I was twitching ridiculously from this little game we had started with each other. And if I were to be honest with myself, the pure fucking risk of it all only made it so much worse. My goddamned girlfriend only feet away from me. Nothing more than a few walls and a door to separate us.Ā I knew it was wrong. And I knew I should've cared about that a lot more than I fucking did. But when it came to y/n, Maya became nothing more than the girl that was there to help me get over her. Clearly, that wasnāt working worth fucking shit. Y/n made that little dream fucking impossible.Ā
I pulled my briefs down just enough. Enough that I could free myself from the tight material. I snapped the photo the same as I had before, letting my sweater lift to give a clear view of my lower stomach on down. I gripped my cock with my hand once again, hissing through my teeth as I did so. One wrong touch, and I was done for. . .Ā
Me, 11:17 p.m.: y/n⦠Iāve been close since you posted that picture lol
Y/n, 11:17 p.m.: Well, then⦠You ready to let go for me?
Me, 11:17 p.m.: never been more ready for any other fuckin thing in my lifeā¦Ā
Except, the next thing that showed up on my screen wasnāt a text. . . No, she was fucking calling me - what Iād been too much of a coward to do, she was doing it for me. Without even realizing how badly I'd wanted it - she just knew me. Wanted the same as me. Fuck. My heart started hammering in my fuckinā chest the moment I saw that beautiful name show up, along with the photo of her from the summer, filling up the whole damn screen. . .Hearing her voice was bound to set me off. . . And I was damn ready for it, so I pressed that green button.
āThought it might help to hear my voice,ā she began, her tone bright, but more sultry than anything. It instantly captivated me ā just like I knew it would. āHave you spit in your hand yet?ā
Shit. No. I hadnāt. āNot yet,ā I breathily laughed in response, before doing just that. When my hand was wet, I let it wrap around my dick once more. . . Felt much better. But, still. āNot as good as your pussy, though, baby.ā
āYeah,ā she responded, her breath hitching on a bit of a whine. Fuck. Was sheā? At the same timeā? Oh, I fucking hoped to god she was. āTell me about it. . .ā
āY/n,ā I said, questioning and stern all at once. Wanted her to listen to me. Needed her to stop what she was doing so she could hear me. It was about damn time she did something I asked of her.Ā
āWhat, Jake?ā She sighed, with a huff. Sounded irritated. Good.Ā
āOh. . .,ā I began, ready to correct her attitude. āYouāre about to behave as if youāre the one whoās been jacking off to your picture for the past hour?āĀ
āAlmost as long,ā she snapped back. She was frustrated. . . Right where I wanted her.
Before I replied, I heard a noise in the background of her call. It sounded like a hand smacking against skin. What in theā?Ā āWhat was that?ā
āI was just making sure it was clear to you, Jacob, that I am not about to be bossed around by you,ā she said, each word in its own breath. She was making a point, it seemed. āIt was the hand thatās been shoved between my legs. Slapped my thigh with it because Iām impatient.ā
āWell, me fuckinā too. No need to act like such a damn brat,ā I said with an intentional edge in my tone. āI was simply saying your name to ask if you were touching yourself already. Seems you were, hm?ā
āIām a horny woman with pregnancy hormones that escalate at lightning speed, Jacob,ā she responded, not taking my shit for a second. (And, I had to say, I really liked it.) āMy skin was all tingly at the table at the idea of what you were doing. . . It led to me to the damn restroom. Pulling my pants down as soon as I was in here.ā
Why was I stalling? My dick was hard in my stilled hand, pulsing in my fist. . . And Iād been ignoring it. It was also late and I needed to get to my girlfriend. Couldnāt help this, though. . . I just wanted to revel in the sound of her voice. Wanted to simply talk to her. No sex. Just us.Ā
But, my body wasnāt going to let me forget about the very present problem at my groin. So, as not to reject the need, I let my hand glide. My steady fist, readily pumping myself before I was addressing her again. āGo ahead and begin again. . . Weāll talk each other through it, baby,ā I said with a heavy breath that turned to a grunt with one particular press of my fist to the tip. Now that I could hear her voice, Iād made up my mind that I needed her to get there before me.
āThank you,ā she breathed, relieved. Her breathing was picking up on the other end of the call. The sound made my dick feel as though it was getting impossibly harder. But that definitely wasnāt possible, so I knew it just meant that one tiny jerk meant I was going to crumble. āMiss you so much, Jake,ā the words left her lips on a choked sob, my name nothing but a whimper.
So. . . Sheād really been waiting for my permission? Damn. . . Just wanted her under me right fucking now. Life wasnāt fair. āYeah? Why donāt you help me understand how much, sweetheart,ā I urged her, knowing I was close to finishing and just wanted to hear her voice again.Ā
āLetās just say, whether I finish or not tonightā.ā
āYou will,ā I interrupted, with zero room for argument in my tone. āI will stay in this bathroom as long as I need to get you off, baby. Donāt you worry.ā
And I meant every damn word. Her finishing came before everything else at the moment. Including myself. . . Which was a lot to say since, at the moment, I knew Iād explode if I were to be breathed on the wrong way. I let go of my cock to spit in my hand again, before bringing it back down to wrap around me. I gasped at the touch of it, but tried to keep a cool front for y/n.
āJacob,ā she said suddenly, insistent with the utterance of my name. āLet me fucking finish what I was going to say,ā she paused, seemingly waiting for me to talk. But I was not going to. āI was saying. . . whether I finish tonight or not, it wonāt matter. Because I know I can only do so much to myself. It will be nothing like what youād do for me. . . Iām still going to be a mess. Makes me want to scream.ā
My lips turned up in a sly, yet doleful close-lipped grin. āItās okay, baby,ā I began, attempting to reassure her when I felt the same exact way. āBecause, either way, youāre gonna be soaking those fingers and thatās what matters to me. . . And my name is going to be the one falling off of your lips,ā I took a second to let that sink in. I heard her push air through her lips, breathing heavily before a moan of acknowledgement. But it wasn't enough for me. āDo you understand me?ā
āYes, Jake. I promise I understand. I promise, baby,ā she gasped. All I could hear were her sharp breaths as she repeated the promise. I imagined how frantically she was moving those fingers. I knew now how much honesty she spoke when she told me of how difficult those pregnancy hormones were. Knew just how high her libido was. . . . .
āHow close are you, sweetheart?ā I said, holding myself and only giving my dick attention if I felt it twitch. Needed her to get there.Ā
Before she even began to speak, she was huffing on the other end before she let out a little whimpering noise that had my balls tensing in a way that made me realize I had to let go of my dick for a moment before something else might occur. Not yet.Ā
āI am so close. Was close before I even got to the bathroom. The knowledge of you getting off to that picture alone had my panties wet,ā she explained, making a groan release from deep in my chest. I encouraged her to continue, giving myself a swift pump before she began speaking again. āWish I could explain ā just want to crawl out of my skin with this need for you,ā she said on a labored breath before she was whining again. Fuck. Hand off of the dick, Jake. āWhen I tell you Iām miserable for you, Jake. . . I have never experienced these feelings before now. There is nothing in the world that will be able to stop me from coming if we keepā fuck. Yes,ā she whimpered, before practically growling. I knew that noise; she'd hit a spot. Fuck yes. āIām just waiting for you to give me the word, to talk me to the edge. . . Want you to do it.ā
āFuck, y/n. . . Thatāsā.ā
āLetās just say - I learned something new about my body last night. . . my damn clit - you've made it pulsate in a way I didnāt know it could,ā she gasped on a breath, her little noises coming through the line, and into my ear, beautifully. āI canāt touch it until youāre ready for me to finish because once I do, itās over. So embarrassing. . . I canāt believe Iām this wound up.ā
āIt suits you, baby. . . Love when youāre so damn needy and desperate for me,ā I said on a mewl that quickly translated to a growl. My hand was itching to touch my dick, and I couldnāt resist the single stroke I gave myself before continuing. I groaned when I let go of myself again. āYou want me so damn bad, hm? Tell me how badly you want this, y/n. . .ā
Ā āI just did, Jacob,ā she replied, frustration clearly marking every single word.Ā
āOh? Youāre going to use that tone?āĀ The voice in my head seemed to judge me, in agreement with my dick - and the time on the damn clock - that we were cutting it real damn short. Come on, Jake. . . We donāt have time for the games, dude. . .Ā
But ā I couldnāt give it to her if she wasnāt going to be good. She knew better.Ā
āIām s-sorry, babe. I justāI canātā,ā she purred, apparently hitting another sensitive spot. . . had me wishing I was the one hitting the inside of her like that. God knew I could go much deeper than those fingers. Stretch her wider. āI want you so badly that I would run on my own two feet all of the way to South Carolina right fucking now if I were a crazy person. There. I said it. And itās the truth, Jake. Humiliating as fuck.ā
āIād do the same damn thing for you, sweet girl,ā I replied, my heart lodged in my throat and dick at the thought. āNow. . . how wet are those fingers?ā
āS-soaked,ā she gasped back, my ear tingling at the tremor in the word.Ā
āHow many do you have inside of you right now?ā I asked, not able to help it when my head fell back against the wall. Couldnāt touch my dick yet ā was punishing myself for the sake of her pleasure. But it was worth every second of denial.Ā
āOnly one. āM s-so tight, Jake.ā
Fuck. Me. I knew how goddamn tight she was. But. . . āI fuckinā know you are, baby. . . Just like you should be. But, do you think you could fit one more finger in there for me?āĀ
āDonāt know, Jake,ā she choked before releasing a trembling whimper. āBut Iāll try. For you.ā
āGood girl,ā I encouraged her before eyeing my angry fuckin' dick. That motherfucker was hanging on for dear life.Ā
āI did it. Two,ā she breathed before letting out a strangled groan. āF-feels so good. . .ā
My cock was past the point of strain ā in need of my grip. So, I went ahead and spit in my hand again before wrapping a hand at the base, moving at a torturously slow speed to the tip.Ā
āOh, baby. . . Iām so damn proud of you,ā I moaned, unable to reject the way āproudā trickled pathetically from my lips.Ā
āāM gonna cum like this, Jake,ā she said with a trembling, needy whine. āI will. . . Promise.ā
āFull of so many promises, arenāt you?ā I pushed her, letting my hand continue its agonizing pace against myself. āDo you promise your tight pussy will still be ready for me when I get home? Gotta keep that shit ready for me. . .ā
āOh, yes, Jake. I will be because I knowā shit. Youāre s-soā so damn thick. Iā Fuck!ā She let out an intense cry that wouldāve scared me if I didnāt know better. I knew exactly what it meant when she got this loud. . . Could only mean one thing. āJake, babyā Iām g-gonnaā but want you toā beforeā.ā
āNo fuckinā way, sweetheart,ā I interrupted her, sweat dripping down my forehead from the utter exertion required of me to wait. But I wouldnāt before her. āIām not going to cum until I know your thighs are soaked with everything you have. . .ā
āNo, Jacob Thomas,ā she argued back, voice suddenly sharper than it had been for the past several minutes. Sheād found some sort of strength in her and I heard that damned slap against her thigh again, in the background of the call. Goddammit, y/n. āNo fucking way am I going to not cum at the same time as you. I wonāt finish this unless you finish with me.ā
Okay, that option was starting to sound pretty appealing. . . My cock was a ticking time bomb in my hands, just waiting for the word to bust. . . āJesus Christ, y/n,ā I grunted, letting my hand tighten once more around my shaft. If we were going to do it like that. . . āFine. Then you damn well better put those fingers back in that pretty pussy because Iām damn fuckinā ready.ā
āHowād youā?ā
āHeard that goddamn slap against your thigh for a second time,ā I bit back, patience gone. āStopping while you know Iām about toā.ā
āThatās why I stopped, asshole! Want you to cum all over your hand while you say my name,ā she sighed. It was the same one sheād give when Iād sink into her. So, I knew those fingers were back where they belonged. āYou just havenāt let me talk you to the edge like I wanted to and Iām mad about itā.ā
āY/n, fuck!ā The heel of my palm nudged the underside of my tip in a way I thought would be my undoing. I couldnāt help how loud the curse word had drifted off my lips. . . dammit. And itād been loud enough to very possibly gain the attention of anyone near these bathrooms. Quiet ass establishment. I brought my voice back to a hush for the next thing I said. āYour voiceā and the filthy noises youāve been makingā shit. Trust me when I say youāve done your part, sweetheart.ā
āReally?āĀ
The way her voice had quieted just a bit; her question was completely genuine. That āreally?ā was so incredibly her. . . She sounded hopeful that I was telling the truth. And I knew why she was asking. I knew her and I knew sheād seriously wanted to keep her word. She wanted to make damn sure I was being honest before she let this continue.Ā
The smirk that tugged at my lips was easy, turning into a full-blown smile when I reassured her as my hand stilled. My dick was crying out to me, but I had to reassure her first. āYes, baby. You did your part with that post,ā I chuckled under my breath at the culprit in all of this. āAnything you did was going to send me over the edge. . . . Especially after last night. But, I just wanted to talk to you so badlyā just wanted an excuse to keep texting you until you were tired of my ass. Then you called andā it was over for me the moment I heard your voice.ā
Every word I said was true as fuck. But, I shut my mouth and gave her a chance to speak. . . Needed it.Ā āShit, Jake. . . Over for you? Did you alreadyā?āĀ
āNo,ā I insisted, letting my hand continue its ministrations on my dick. Nice and slow. . . āTrust me when I say, babydoll, youāre going to know when that happens.ā
Babydoll. . . hadnāt used that one on her yet, but I liked it. . . It fit her.
āI fucking better,ā she replied, her voice breaking up a bit as she began to breathe heavily. She was working herself up again and we were not stopping this time.Ā
Spitting in my hand once more, a sense of finality laced all throughout me, I let my palm go to very delicately grasp my dick. And then, as I felt necessary, I applied pressure, my head falling against the wall for the umpteenth time. I was hot, all over, my cock like fire in my hand. . . It throbbed in the most fulfilling way as I let my hand do what itād wanted to all night.
āJake?ā She tried from the other side of the call, her voice pulling me out of my thoughts for the time being.Ā
āYes, baby?ā I replied, not able to stop my hand from moving, but tried my damn best to let her voice control me. But that shit was damn near impossible at this point in the night.Ā
āI really do miss you,ā she said. I heard her sweet voice choke up a bit ā for more than sexual reasons.Ā
Again, I knew this because I felt it, too. āI miss you, sweetheart. So fucking much. I can promise you that,ā I insisted, the rumble in my chest, coming to life in the tone of my voice when I spoke next. āBut just think about how ready youāre going to be for me. . . When I finally see you again. . . When I finally get to fuck you like we both want. . .ā
āGonna feel so good,ā she said with a hiccup and a quiet, shaky sigh. āCanāt wait to feel you fill me up again, baby. . .ā
I was going to burn this place down. āTell me just how hard you want me to fuck you, y/n. . .,ā I began, feeling those words leave my lips was like seeing the light at the end of a tunnel Iād been trying to reach for years.Ā
āShit, Jake. . . Iām just ready to see you finish again. Been so long. . . Havenāt gotten to taste you on my tongueā.ā
āThe night in the Jeeā?ā
āBut you never came for me that night. . . Remember? I havenāt gotten to taste you for so long and fuckā I miss the way it feels when I swallow you downāI need it,ā she beautifully sighed, then moaned on the cutest little lilt of a laugh.Ā
I couldnāt emit a proper response. What in the fuck did I even say to that? A pornographic harmony, spoken to leave no fucking man alive. . . Said just for me. . .Fuck, I was so ready to come for her again. My dick was swelling with this urgency for her. . . So damn close.
She wasnāt finished, though, so I didnāt have to form a coherent thought as my eyes began to roll back in my head. Her smooth voice, like damn silk flooding my ears, ā. . .or feel you spill out of me since the night we. . . you know. . .ā
Even in the heat of this moment, I couldnāt stop myself from asking. . . My heart, being fucking stupid, begging for answers. āDo you remember much from that night?ā I asked, my voice faltering.Ā
I knew most of the tremor in my tone came from the feelings flowing through me from my current desire to let the agony from tonight end in triumph. But. . . I wasnāt a fool. I knew it was also faltering because I wondered this shit every day. Ridiculously, that night was a sensitive topic for me. . . for reasons not concerning our daughter.Ā
āOh, Jake. . . I remember it so well. Every single day, I remember just a little more. . . My braināno, my heart wonāt let me forget, baby,ā she said, voice cracking on the last few words.Ā
There was a little sniffle behind her words. . . By the way sheād sniffed, I knew she was trying to hide it. And, ironically, at the same damn time, I felt that familiar, tight sensation ā constricting my throat ā daring me to cry. But now was not the time. Weād discuss this later. Now that I knew she hadnāt forgotten as much of it as Iād previously thought, we damn well were going to finish this conversation.Ā
āItās because that shit isnāt meant to be forgotten, babydoll,ā I rushed out as I clung on for dear life. My cock seemed to hum with pleasure under my palm, a sort of feeling of appreciation from my body for what was on the precipice of occurring.Ā
On top of her words, my mind went crazy thinking of how sheād fall apart. . . When I'd fuck her, watching her finish was always my final undoing. . . Every time, I was left a man spent with nothing left to give. . . A man who only knew her name. . .
Last night, Iād been so enraptured at the prospect of sinking inside of her again. . . I couldnāt help but remember ā how her thighs had trembled above me last night. Every angle had been glorious, but being underneath her, eating her pussy while I watched her full body take everything it was given. Watched her heavenly tits bounce while her thighs tempted to squeeze my head, over and over ā shit. How well sheād fallen apart. Sheād opened up for me ā completely ā soaking me when Iād made her release fully. . . It had been exquisite ā all of her, covering my face and chest in the most mouth watering arousal.Ā
And, after making her finish multiple times (just like Iād wanted), I'd been so close to finally giving her what sheād wanted. But I hadnāt gotten to give it to her. Hadnāt had the chance to enjoy the feeling of her swollen, soaking wet pussy, sheathing my dick. Iād felt the thrumming, pounding beating of my pulse, all the way from my balls, to my heavy ass dick, to my dizzy mind. . . And then. . . Maya had fucking knocked. Mine and y/nās luck was shit.Ā
Josh and Elsie had been a non-issue. I knew them well enough to know that if y/n were to have put them off for what weād been doing, theyād have let us at it. Hell, they probably would have celebrated (fucking weirdos). And sheād just about let them off easily when Maya had made her presence known.Ā
Iād been so fucking angry over it. The sinking feeling that had happened in my gut at that moment had made me shut down. . . And like the fuckinā dick of a boyfriend I was, it hadnāt had shit to do with feeling bad for doing anything to (possibly) ruin things with Maya. No, all my brain could spit at me was how close Iād been to finally being buried in y/n again. And how viciously itād been yanked from me. By a single knock. Not tonight. No, I was going to see this shit through.Ā
āKeep going, baby,ā I told her. I was not letting that shit happen again. No interruptions. We would get our beautiful ending. Together. I wasnāt stepping foot out of this goddamn bathroom until then. āKeep fucking yourself for me, honey. Donāt stop.ā
āJake. . .,ā she cooed in response, not much more than a whisper that had fallen off her tongue. āS-say my name, Jake. . .Please, baby.ā Fuck. The prettiest goddamn voice to ever grace my ears. Melodic. Tantalizing. And her breathing, still labored, coming out in tiny huffs. High in pitch ā they had become quicker. The sweetest staggered huffs, tiny gasps. Ā She was close. I could hear it. In her voice, her breathing. Imagined her nimble fingers - thrusting in and out of her soaked pussy.Ā
I was fucking done for. Those little noises alone, setting my body alight. My dick threatened to spill with the gentlest touch of my hand. So fucking careful. āI hear you, y/n,ā I sighed, barely finding the air in my own lungs. I closed my eyes, picturing her in the very spot she was in. Getting herself off, all by herself. āG-give it to me, babydoll. Please. Let me hear you finish for me.ā
Desperation had completely taken over, with a strength unfathomable. My dick was throbbing under my palm. My head became light and fuzzy, lacking all the blood I needed to keep myself upright for much longer. And then, I swore I heard it. The technology behind these damn iPhones could be so sweet. Because, after really concentrating on the faint sound, I knew I heard it. Those slick sounds, from her pretty little fingers working her oversensitive pussy, so well. . . Fuck yes. She breathed the most ethereal sound. The sound. The one right before she'd. . .God, fuck. I bit my lip, hard enough to draw blood. I tasted it on my tongue, focusedĀ on it instead of the urge to pump myself one last fucking time.Ā
āT-talk to me, babydoll. Need to hear, ā Jesus!. . .,ā My dick twitched against my palm, creating almost enough friction to force my end. No. Not fucking yet. We had to do it together. I would settle for no fucking less. āLet me hear you, y/n. Donāt fucking hold back for me.ā
āJ-Jake! Iām cumm ā fuck!āĀ
She was there. She was fucking there, making all the same pretty noises she had made last night when my tongue was in the same place her fingers were now. Tasting her when she. . . god, fuck! A string of spit left my lips, my mouth hanging open with the gasped breaths. And, as if on purpose, past my sweater, it met my lower abdomen. I shivered as it slid down to the base of my dick. I reached for it, coated my hand and gripped my dick - squeezed it real fucking hard.Ā It felt so exhilaratingly good that it hurt.
āCum with me, Jake. . . P-lease,ā she pleaded, and that was all it fucking took.Ā
With the iron grip of my hand, I pumped myself with haste ā Once, twice. . . I hissed through my goddamn teeth, bit the fuck out of my tongue to keep my volume to a low rumble. I squeezed my eyes shut, so hard it nearly hurt. My head had fallen back against the wall, my balls and stomach tightened painfully with the movement of my hand. She was still moaning in my ear, still working that gorgeous fucking pussy with her fingers when I felt the closest I had all fucking night.Ā
I pumped my dick again, and again. And with one more thrust of my fist, I coated my fucking hand. God āit hit me so fucking hard. The building up from the entire nightā The moment I saw that blessed Instagram story, the texts, her tits, and then her fucking voice. . . Just her. Everything that was her. My every thought of her left my body numb and trembling with pure goddamn pleasure. Tear inducing.Ā
I felt so close to her, and she wasnāt even here with me. Not physically. Not the way I wanted. But the fact that I did feel that way was a testament to the undeniable effect she had on me.Ā Not even fucking here, and she still had me worked up as though she were. Still had this claim over my body - like it belonged only to her.Ā
And apparently, I had the same effect on her.Ā
My jaw had gone slack, and the only thing my lips could muster was her name. āY/n, y/n, y/n. . .ā
āThere you go, baby. Fuck ā listen to you. . .ā
I kept stroking myself, slowly and fucking carefully as the blood had started returning to my head. My body was vibrating. My dick was tender as fuck. Sensitive to the goddamn touch. But I couldnāt let go of myself. Not yet. Not when she was on the other end of the line. Waiting for me. āHow are those fingers? Are they fuckin' soaked like I wanted?ā
āSo-s very soaked, baby,ā she sighed between heaving breaths. āI think I. . . I'm actually - my thighs. They're drenched. Itās just like last night. . . when it'd covered your chest and face. . . Did I just. . . ? Fuck.ā
Fucking Christ. āDid you squirt for me, baby?ā
āIām pretty damn sure I did,ā she breathily giggled, my heart picking up speed at the sound. āTh-the insides of my thighs are seriously drenched to fuck.ā
I chuckled along with her, under my breath as I tried damn hard to not book a stupidly impulsive flight to New York. Even though we were done, I still wasnāt finished speaking to her. I knew it was late, but I needed to hold onto this moment with her. It was all I had at the moment. āHow are Josh and Elsie tonight? Disturbingly flirty and shit?ā
She began laughing outright at that, though her voice still cracked a bit from the rasp in her throat. She was exhausted. . .Could only imagine. . . And I was all the way in South Caro-fucking-lina. But, she succeeded in snapping me from my irritation, with a sigh, so beautiful, into my ear as she agreed. āOh, you already know. . . And talking about the most absurd shit they find on Urban fucking Dictionary of all places. . .,ā she laughed again, taking a deep breath before she told me about the place she was at tonight. The food sounded much better than the wallet-breaking, tiny-ass portions Iād had earlier in the evening. . . But it had been Mayaās favorite, so weād had to go. Just like the dessert establishment we were at now.
I was about to respond to another remark sheād made about Elsie and Joshās escapades ā still on my blissful high. . . . When we were interrupted. By a goddamn fucking knock.Ā The sound of a knock on the door was truly becoming one I hated at this point.Ā
And when I heard the voice on the other side of the door. . . . My blood ran cold.
āJakey? You almost done talking to Josh?ā Maya. Voice calm and kind ā completely unassuming.Ā
I loved my girlfriend, but dammit if hearing her knock made me want to punch the nearest wall with all of the strength I couldāve possibly mustered. . . However, I stood in the same place Iād been for the last almost two hours. My hand, still comfortably around my dick. And the result of the phone fucking Iād just partaken in, all over my hand. . . Shit.
Though, unlike last night, bit by bit ā second by second āI began to feel guilty. Because, now, my girlfriend had been left at the table ā abandoned by me ā for the better part of almost two hours while I did this shit. I checked the lock on the door with a careful eye, terrified that Iād somehow forgotten to lock it. The thought of what might occur if she were to open the door had me wanting to throw up. I felt so goddamn terrible. What the fuck was I doing?
I had these two beautiful women ā who I cared for so deeply ā hanging on by a thread. Granted, how I felt for y/n was worlds different than I felt for Maya. . . In that way, I meant that my love for Maya was the type of love I could explain. . . It was a deep love. But. . . the way I felt for y/n? I didnāt even know where to begin. . . It was beyond words. And where I felt deeply for Maya, it didnāt stop at ādeepā for y/n.Ā
No, with y/n, I felt like I was constantly drowning in the most beloved waters. . . Desperate for air while also enjoying the feeling of being utterly encompassed by these stunning, yet treacherous waves. . .
But. . . in the end, they were both special to me and I was fucking with both of them. I didnāt know what to do.Ā
āJake?!ā Mayaās knuckles hit the door once more, her voice level raising in a way that made me want to tell her to quiet down. This was her quiet restaurant that she knew so well. . . Sheād already given me the talk about not speaking loudly in the place. So, apparently she was irritated enough that sheā. āJake!ā
Okay, not quite as loud, but definitely obvious that she was fed up with waiting on me. I couldnāt blame her. . . Iād just give her some excuse about how Josh was really going through it or some shit. Sheād have to understand that.
And, just as she was tapping against the door once again, y/n was in my ear. . . Her soft voice, making me feel lighter ā better. āHey. . . whatās wrong, baby?ā She questioned, real concern guiding her tone. I knew that sheād noticed that something was off by the way Iād just stopped interacting. āWas it something I saiā?ā
āJakey, please, Iām really worried about you, baby!ā Maya squeaked from the other side of the door.Ā
āI have to go,ā I hurriedly hushed into the phone, hoping y/n would be the easier one to put off this time. Sheād understand. Right? āIām sorry,ā rushed through my lips as I pressed the red end button for the call.Ā
I hated doing it to her, but sheād be easier to explain this all to. . . Sheād been very understanding about me needing to dedicate time to Maya in the past. . . And sheād already told me to get off the phone and go back to her earlier in the conversation. . .
In complete shame, I looked down at my hand that held the phone. Our texts, staring back at me and making me immediately miss her. Fuck. It was like Iād escaped to this other world with her for such a short time. . . Only to be yanked back to earth. Was she going to be mad at me now? Then, there was the evidence on my other hand. My release, covering the hand that was holding my dick (that was still too hard to leave the bathroom). . . It was drying real quick, making a sticky mess over my skin.
Ā I felt like shit. This wasnāt supposed to be so damn difficult. . . I just wished we still had the easiness of a few months ago. . . Very little interruptions, so much time for only each other. No one in the way. . . I felt like I couldāve cried in that fuckinā Carmellaās single stall bathroom. Stupid as it was. . . But Iād been waiting for this and hadnāt even been able to begin to enjoy the post-coital bliss.Ā
Was y/n okay? She was also covered in herself. Completely alone in the bathroom of whatever restaurant she was at. With Josh and Elsie. I really would have left South Carolina right that instant if I couldāve. Flown back on the next flight to be with them. But I couldnāt. I had made this commitment to Maya and I had to see it through.Ā
But. . . My heart hurt for the woman in New York, so fucking precious to me, who Iād effectively worked up and thoroughly drained. Only for me to leave her immediately upon finishing. And her gentle voice in my ear. . . Itād been so nice ā creating that familiar swirly feeling in my chest. Yet, no matter how sheād made me feel, Iād just left her.Ā
FuckāI couldnāt even worry about that. Not when my girlfriend was still outside the bathroom, making her presence known with little intermittent spurts of knocking. Damn. . . the woman really liked to knock until there was zero doubt of her presence. My teeth had ground together every time I heard her after the first knock. It was a lot ā considering it had happened at least ten times in the span of a couple of minutes.Ā
My attention was drawn back to my hands. . . To the phone in my grasp that was awfully silent. Why was I expecting anything from her? Why would she want to text me? With how Iād left things just now, my heart would be broken if roles were reversed.Ā
Dick move, Jake, my thoughts called out, judging me. Way to use her and then hang up, asshole.
I shook my head of the thought, knowing it to be true, but not having the energy nor the time to deal with it. Not when Maya was still doing her best to make sure I knew she was still out there. My phone got clicked to lock and slipped into my back pocket. Then, I was trying to silently pull up my briefs and pants, zip my jeans, and maneuver very quietly around the bathroom, so as not to make Maya question anything else.Ā
Just needed to wash my hands. . . Get my fucking semen off of my hands before she saw that shit. I triple checked the bathroom door to make sure Iād locked it. And when Iād reassured myself again, I turned the faucet on.Ā
Talk, Jacob. āYeah, My, Iām okayāsorry,ā I finally called out, panicking to get myself cleaned up and get this night over with. When I said I felt like shit, I meant it. Pure, utter shit for hanging up on y/n, with no explanation and no warning, but I had no other choice. āJosh was just really going through it. . . Needed me to talk him down.ā
āOh. . .,ā she began from the other side, her voice breaking just a little. But what caught me was the way the word was spoken ā as if to question what I was saying. She had no reason to question it. āSaw he posted on his story like right before you came to the bathroom to talk to him. . . Heās with y/n and Elsie. They looked pretty happy in his story.ā
Mother of fuck. Of all times, Josh. Thank you, brother.Ā
Improvise, Jake. Improvise. . . āYeah. . . They were really awesome at being there for him tonight when I couldnāt be,ā I said on a whim, soaping and washing my hands for a second time under the water as it heated to scalding. Was helping to snap me back to reality. āHeās just having a hard time. I didnāt know how else to help him from here other than staying on the phone with him.ā
āIs he better now?ā She asked, seeming legitimately curious over the illegitimate situation. The lie.
āY-yeah,ā I stuttered, drying my hands against my pants, not wanting to hear the harsh noise of the hand dryer. I wasnāt sure I could handle that at the time being. . . āHeās fine. Feeling much more like himself.ā
āIād hope so,ā Maya laughed, the sound seeming more mocking than anything. She was over the bullshit of me being in the bathroom. I understood that for sure. āYouāve been in there long enough. . . The dessert tray is at the table. And lucky for you, thereās no ice cream.ā
She seemed like she was joking, but I could hear a slight edge in her tone that wasnāt usually there. So, I busted ass. Made sure my face was wiped of any residual sweat and that it wasnāt flushed to fuck. Thankfully, I seemed to look relatively put together. . . And I believed (really hoped) to have washed all of the leftover smell off of me that could indicate Iād been doing what Iād been doing.Ā
After a deep breath in and out, I slapped a smile on my face and left the nerves in the bathroom. . . . And when I saw her beautiful face, completely aloof as to what had just happened, I felt a punch in the gut. The same punch I felt when I instantly thought of how y/n was going, five states away from me. . . Was she crying? Was she going to be able to clean up okay? Sheād had her entire body out for me tonight, only for me to leave her. Fuck. It was all on a loop in my damned head.Ā
As Maya talked to me about the fucking dessert tray, I contemplated my next steps with y/n. And once we were seated back at the table, I immediately noticed her father was glaring at me. And while I was never one to disrespect a partnerās parent, he didnāt fucking know me. It didnāt help that, at the present moment in time, I was not in the mood to deal with any shit. After giving him a forced smile, I decided to ignore him and continue to ponder my mess of thoughts concerning y/n.
I decided the best (and only) option was to text her. So, I took a few moments while Maya and her dad started in on a conversation. And from the sound of it, sheād apparently stopped in the middle of to come get me from the bathroom. God. Could she not have just waited to finish her damn conversation before coming to me? It wouldāve been better for all parties involved.Ā God. Whatever. All it meant was I had an ample opportunity to send this text.Ā
Me, 11:35 p.m.: Iām so sorry, baby⦠I promise you I didnāt want to leave. Maya came to the door and needed me. I promise it had absolutely nothing to do with you, y/n
When I sent it, I decided the least I could do was look at Maya to pretend as though I was listening. The conversation happening between them wasnāt one I could participate in ā they were talking strictly about work. I wasnāt needed here. But, as the minutes ticked by, I realized. . . y/n was fed up with me. Sheād read my message at the time Iād sent, and still, five minutes later, there was zero response from her. I hadnāt even witnessed the little ellipses bubble when I occasionally opened my phone to check on a response.Ā
I could admit. Shitty as it was, the woman beside me had barely been a thought to me all night. Even still, as I sat there, with a forced smile and a dick I was begging to soften all of the way, she wasnāt who I was thinking about. I decided to go to Instagram. Curiosity had me wanting to check Joshās story to see what Maya had been referring to.Ā
And, the picture on his story was enough to make my breath catch in my throat. The bright smile on y/nās face and her hair, falling so prettily over her shoulder. In this picture that had apparently been taken before the texting and the phone call.Ā . . Sheād been so full of joy. Goddammit. Then, there was the song heād used ā I knew it very well. "Merry Christmas Baby" by Booker T & the M.G.ās. And I knew exactly why heād used it. Heād used it to get my attention. This was one weād regularly listened to at Christmastime as a family, growing up. I could remember the day Iād learned the guitar part and everything ā a snow day during our freshman year of high school.
Weird that I remembered that. But, heād known it was special. He'd known that it would trigger some sort of memory for me. Make me feel something. What was he trying to say? Was he just mocking me by putting a sentimental song on his story to accompany a picture of her? Was he trying to make me jealous? Knowing my brother, I was sure to fuck that he was doing all of the above.
Fuck you, Josh. Seriously.Ā
After eyeing her for just a moment longer in Joshās photo, I decided that while Maya was engaged in such an intense conversation with her father, I could go look at y/nās story again. With a clear head. Really appreciate the picture this time. So, with a quick message to Josh telling him to āgo fuck himselfā, and a glance in Mayaās direction to make sure she wasnāt looking, I speedily tapped y/nās name in Joshās story. And once I was on her profile, I made hasty work of my mission by clicking on her cute little icon photo.Ā
And there she was. I was quickly realizing, though, that maybe it was a mistake to look at it because it was only making me angrier that weād essentially been cut off in the bathroom. I had needed her ā before, during, and after. Iād taken the fucking L last night in her bed by not getting to fuck her and done so again tonight by sacrificing talking to her after getting her off.Ā
The lace on her skin ā it was just so fucking gorgeous. I wanted nothing more than to pull it over her tits myself and pay those pretty nipples some real attention. . . God, her tits. Then there was the underwear, nearly see through. . . How Iād pull those to the side and fuck her sensitive pussy until her perfect legs trembled, yet again, with my name on her lips. Her pretty release, seeping out of her, right before Iād let loose inside of her. . . And when my spend would trickle from her tight, pulsing cunt, Iād pull those sexy little panties back over her. Cover her up and let her feel me against her until she understood to not post shit like this without me near.Ā
My dreams were stalled when her name flashed across my screen, though. I didnāt even wait to read it. Had to talk to her.Ā
Y/n, 11:41 p.m.: Iām not talking about promises anymore tonight, Jake.Ā
Goddammit, Jake. What the fuck had you done, man?
Me, 11:41 p.m.: you know that I wanted to talk you down from that, baby⦠you know me. You know me better than that
Thankfully, she immediately read that one and responded. Fucking win.
Y/n, 11:41 p.m.: Just hate that youāre gone and it was just a vicious reminder of why youāre gone⦠Iām just being selfish. Ignore me.
She was being selfish? Fuck no she wasnāt.Ā
Me, 11:42 p.m.: you are NOT selfish, y/n. Please donāt say that about yourself. Wish you wouldnāt say shit like thatĀ
Y/n, 11:42 p.m.: I jacked off with you while you were with your g i r l f r i e n d tonight, Jake. No, actually⦠while you made HER wait for ME. It was all my fault and I am so sorry.
Oh, fuck no she was not going to apologize.Ā
Me, 11:42 p.m.: sweet girl⦠donāt you dare say sorry for anything. That was the peak moment of my entire day :)
Me, 11:42 p.m.: donāt overthink any of this. Please. The situation is whatās shitty⦠not you. The situation could be MUCH fucking better
What was I implying? Surely I wasnāt considering what it would be like to not be dating Maya. . . That would be fucked up. Butā dammit. I couldnāt help how drawn I was to this girl on the other side of my phone. As I waited for her to respond, I went to her photo again. Sound turned down, of course. . . Maya was still busy conversing. I was fine.
There was a solid minute to appreciate the way y/nās breasts were swelling ā how gorgeously marked by veins. . .ā fuck. All for my babyā shit fuck. I was truly realizing, as my stomach turned in arousal at her body ā looking at this again had not been a good idea. And, as if a saving grace, her name was at the top of my screen again.Ā
Y/n, 11:44 p.m.: You deserve to be happy, Jake. That is the best āsituationā for me.Ā
God. What was she implying, now?Ā
I didnāt know what to say in response to that, so instead, I decided to switch back to her Instagram story and tell her exactly what I thought of it. Perfect. Thatās what it ā she ā was. Y/n. . . Her heart, her face, her body. . . she was perfect. Maybe not for me, due to everything that had transpired between us. So much history in a shorter amount of time. . . . but she was the most perfect specimen that graced this Earth.
Before her, I hadnāt been sure about having kids. But with this woman? My uncertainty about having kids was out the window. When she was the mother of my children, I didnāt care how many there were. Anything that came from her would surely be flawless and so easily lovable. God, the singular thought that there would be a tiny her also gracing the planet in a few months?. . .Ā
Iād never felt the amorous flame ā this pure, overwhelming light inside of my chest. . . . All because of y/n.Ā The chance weād taken over the summer. . . The chance of a lifetime.Ā
Y/n. . .she was worth all of it and more.
End of Jakeās POV
Mayaās POV
When Jake got back from the bathroom, I assumed the night would continue as it had started. Jakeās attention being on me. All on me.Ā
A whole twelve hours away from Brooklyn, New-fucking-York ā where there were possible distractions galore. But here, there truly were none. A glorious victory for me. The one complaint Iād had before now had been earlier in the day. Heād been immersed in his phone this morning as weād walked around my favorite Charleston shopping centers. Though, even if it had annoyed me at first, I hadnāt complained. Because, heād bought me any and everything Iād wanted. Merry Christmas to me!
And, as heād told me, heād been texting with his brothers. Which, I could only get so annoyed by. They were fun enough and seemed to like me a lot. So, they passed in my book. Really, more than ālike meā, I knew his brothers loved me. And obviously, I appreciated this. They saw me for me.Ā
Occasionally, I still stopped to silently appreciate Josh. His noble act of stopping the display in the living room on that horrid game night. And then, going the extra mile and stepping in to talk to Jake the morning after. . .? God. A keeper for sure. At this point, I didnāt think Iād ever make Jake cut off communication with his family. . . And that was saying something. Iād definitely done it with boyfriends in the past when their family members rubbed me the wrong way, so. . . He was lucky he had a decent family.
Even if I did like his brothers, though, it had gotten annoying after about an hour and a half. Every time Iād wanted his attention, heād tell me to āwait a second.ā But, thankfully, once heād put the phone away finally, his focus had all been on me. Heād looked frustrated (which had annoyed me), but when Iād asked him what had been wrong, he just shook his head. It was obvious after one try that he hadnāt really wanted to talk about it. So, Iād dropped it. Heād talk to me if he needed to. No use poking him. All day long, Iād told him memories of my childhood. Little things from when Iād come to stay with my dad. Everywhere I looked, there was something to tell him about that had to do with me. It was heaven. Had been. Not any-fucking-more.
Because, when heād gotten back from the hour and a half long conversation with Josh in the bathroom, Iād borne witness to his fucking screen. And the sight had not made me very happy.Ā Iād had every reason to lose it when I initially saw that green circle around her picture. That classic pick-me bitch icon she used for Instagram. Trying to stay all natural with her lightly edited photo. Her, in a (surely cheap) white sweater, and a New York Yankee baseball cap on. A little cutesy grin on her features. Trying to look all adorable and shit. And failing. Puh-lease. Stupid fucking bitch. Y/n. The baby momma whore.Ā
And, unfortunately, even if she was a giant slut, I had to admit, she was very pretty. . . Well, had been very pretty. . . She was subpar now with the baby bump constantly expanding at her abdomen. More and more by the day. Gross.Ā
Even more disgusting and sneaky, after a hasty glance at my own Instagram, Iād soon noticed she hadnāt included me in that little green bubble of Close Friends. But. . . To be fair, of course she wouldnāt ā I had the thing she wanted. Her envy of me drew the line at us being āclose friends.ā Women were naturally envious of me, intimidated by me. Had been my entire life. It was why I still had zero female friends. Bitches were haters.
I really, sincerely knew it was simply because she was jealous of me ā as she shouldāve been. . . But, sheād succeeded in getting under my skin. No one ever did that shit anymore ā except for y/n. I was a very pleasant person, but y/n. . .Oh, that bitch brought out the worst in me. Close Friends. I couldāve strangled someone.Ā
Seriously. Whore. A whore who was posting shit like this to lure my boyfriend in. And, no. She couldnāt have him. She got to have his baby. That was plenty for her. It was too much, if I were to be honest. But no one was asking me.
I had to put up with a lot from her. Most women would have dragged her away from him by her hair. Told her to get the fuck out of his life. And then told her to fuck off and give another woman (me) the chance to treat him better than she had. Like trapping him, right before he started his career, by getting pregnant in a primarily fuck buddy circumstance.Ā
Crazy to think Jake had lied to me about that, by the way. . . When we first really got together in September, Iād questioned him about living with another woman. And, heād fed me a bullshit line about being ājust roommatesā with her. āJust roommates,ā heād told me. āItās just the most convenient living situation.ā And, Iād believed him. Like a fool.Ā
That was before Iād had to spend my Thanksgiving focusing on the new knowledge that his roommate was pregnant with his kid. Heād so carefully told me the morning of the blessed holiday. And seriously, Iād been a stunning girlfriend to him when heād told me. Iād had and still did have every right to be pissed. But Iād reacted as calmly as possible. . . Even if Iād been exploding on the inside. No woman would put up with that besides me. āJust roommatesā my incredible, fat ass. āJust roommatesā with a damned history of fucking each other enough to make a kid from it. She was lucky I hadnāt screamed in her pretty little face by now. Couldnāt upset the pregnant lady. God forbid. Lest I be a terrible person to all of society.Ā
And she had that heart thing Jake had told me about. Pits? The Pits? Stupid name for a disorder. Something made-up about her heart beating too damn fast. So, on top of being pregnant, she was also at risk with whatever the fuck that illness was that she had. Sounded like a y/n problem, not mine. She was a true āpick-meā girl. To her core, always begging for attention.Ā
God. . . I had such a good heart. Loads of tolerance for the never ending bullshit. I had been the bigger person through all of this. The biggest person, actually. Well. . . not physically. I couldāve laughed at that. No, no. That spot belonged to Jakeās fuck buddy roommate. Past fuck buddy, of course. I knew I gave it to him so fucking good now; he didnāt need her or her tired ass, fat ass pregnant body. That show, The Biggest Loser ā right in front of me.Ā
Sheād had her chance. When her body was tight and her face wasnāt at risk of fattening like a pregnant bitch. And now she seemed to think she could offer him anything worthy in this body? Her new (not improved) one, which only got progressively fatter every time I saw her? Though, no matter how fat she was, she still never managed to shoot her shot. Reference: game night. Her, being a disgusting whore in front of us all. And Jake, still sleeping next to me that night. . . as sheād slept with that moron from her school. Comedy. Peak comedy.
I looked over briefly at his screen again. It had been a couple of minutes since Iād last checked on him. And he was still on that damned story of hers. Why?! What did she have to offer that I didnāt? Nothing. Seriously. If all she had to offer him was that kid, that was still nothing compared to me.Ā
A baby was all she had to offer him. A tiny little thing that took up hardly any space. So, I knew I made her insecure. How could I not?Ā
And my body wasnāt bloated and expanding with an unexpected kid like hers was. My body was the same as it had been when Jake and Iād first gotten together. The day of the guitar lesson, at the beginning of summer. The guitar lesson that had led to me being bent over my kitchen counter, where heād fucked me until my eyes had watered. So fucking good. Best sex of my life ā and that was saying something, too. That āsituationshipā of ours had only lasted for a few (too-short) weeks. . . And, towards the end of it, Iād been able to tell she was pissing him off. The sex had gotten rougher and heād been harsher when heād spoken to me. But I was there for him. Talked through life with him. His breakup, those stupid rules that y/n had put in place at one point (control freak). . .
Iād even gone to a few of those shows of his ā which Iād never seen her at. Only that festival when she wore that white outfit that had done very little to cover her up. Just like this story he was still looking at. Barely anything to cover her fat ass body. Slut. She constantly gave me every reason to believe I made her insecure. . . This story, for one. Couldnāt handle her precious roommate being with his fucking girlfriend. Had to post this shit to try and get his attention.Ā
But. . . he was still looking. . . Seriously. What gives? Did he just feel bad for her or what? Was he gawking, repulsed by her ugly body like I was? In shock that sheād post such a horrendous thing?Ā
I thought back to last night, her hiding herself under that hoodie when sheād left Jakeās apartment. I knew why sheād done that shit. She probably couldnāt stand the sight of herself anymore, especially when she knew I was around. Couldnāt let Jake make the unfair comparisons when I was so near, so she chose to hide. Good. Best option for her. Hide, bitch. She was insane if she thought he found her attractive right now. Sure, maybe he did before she got knocked up. But not now. Again, comedic to think he could find her anywhere near pretty.Ā
Besides, she had no hope for post-pregnancy either. Everyone knew women were at risk of losing their entire figure when they had kids. And I had no doubt she would. But that wouldnāt happen to me. Not ever. I would stay looking just like this, just how Jake liked. My tight, not pregnant body. God, just ā it was Jake. I couldnāt let her have him.Ā
There was not a chance in fucking hell that Iād let her have him. I knew she still wanted him. I knew she did. Any girl would want to be with Jake. I knew for a damned fact that every woman who saw him wanted to be with him. Iād seen the bitches staring at him. Everywhere we went. What woman wouldnāt want him? He had everything anyone could ever want in a man ā anything I could ever want. He was a long-haired fucking rockstar on his way to a huge fucking career with a killer body. He was the definition of perfect. And I was the one who had him.Ā
Besides, it was kind of fun to be around her knowing that heād chosen me. At this point, Iād only tolerated her because I liked being the winner. Watching her be pregnant, fat, and sad while I got to suck face with her baby daddy right in front of her pathetic ass. . . Like a blue fucking ribbon.
Even after a couple of minutes more of conversation with my dad, I noticed with a sideways glance that Jake was switching hastily between apps. What the fuck was heā? But before I could see a glimpse of his texts, once again, he was back on Instagram. And looking at her hideous post. I was shocked to find it was the other one. The one I could see, on her page. Ugly, cheap ass, deplorable maternity bra for her engorged tits. And equally cheap American Eagle jeans. However, that post did stop me in my tracks the slightest bit. . . Before she was pregnant, she really had been very easy on the eyes. Nice, tight body. Decent ass. Perky tits. Good skin.
But man, compared to the picture of her now. . . It was sad how sheād let herself go. Disheartening, really. The woman was just so fucking fat right now. And the unfortunate thing was, sheād probably only allowed herself to get pregnant in the first place, to keep him. It was just hilarious that she believed getting fat would make him want to stick around and be with her. Carrying his kid or not, she was fat.Ā
Truth hurts, you fucking delusional and selfish cunt, I thought as I did the ārightā thing and liked her stupid post.
It didnāt matter in the long run. A nice little gesture. Sure. I could do that ā because I knew I was the one he wanted. All along. He knew that heād hit the fucking jackpot with me. I knew, from his mouth, that heād regretted letting me go. On a couple of occasions, after a few shows where drinks had run aplenty, heād told me as much.Ā
But. . . I knew that if she could dig her claws into him, sheād somehow be able to figure out a way to manipulate him into going back to her. Even if it were just for sex. If she was given the chance, of course. . .Except, as long as I was around, he wouldnāt be able to even think about going back to her. As long as he had me, he wouldnāt want her. Wouldnāt need anything from her. All she was good for was making the kid. Her body was a waste, her manipulation tactics were tried and true. . . She was only surface level pretty. . .but everything else about her was shit.Ā
Too bad he didnāt care about her. This pregnancy wasnāt about her for Jake. Because, while she may have thought that Jake was helping her, he obviously was not. I could read him like a book. I knew him so well. And I knew everything he did was only for his kid. That kid was the only reason he had jack fuck to do with her. He only felt like he had that obligation to her. And, like the kind, understanding, Christian woman that I was, Iād let it slide this long. . . Too damn long.Ā
Sheād already tried to pull one over on me. On that stupid game night, sheād tried. With her tiny ass shorts and tight shirt to show off her bulging, overweight tits. And then, right there, in front of all of us, sheād spread her legs for him. In front of me, the love of Jakeās life. I was still shocked that, for some reason, heād fallen for that shit. Even with me sitting right there. Iād watched her pick at him and be a little bitch about getting comfortable. I could only imagine it was hard to get situated and comfortable with that fat, disgusting body.Ā
Iād wanted so badly to make a comment about her being so gross, but Iād known then, just as I did now. . . I had to keep face ā especially in front of Jake. I was just grateful Josh saw that it was wrong, too. When heād come in, telling me to nicely leave so he could (presumably) personally discuss the ludicrous situation with Jake. Discuss the whore and her conniving ways. I trusted that Josh had told Jake everything I would have. Surely. What else?Ā
With another side eye at Jakeās screen, I saw him switching from texts and Insta ā again. Except this time, I saw her name on his texts. Did she really need to be distracting him this badly? Could the bitch not have waited for his assistance with baby shit? God. . .Jake was simply too nice and blinded by that kid in her belly. Thought he had to do so much for his fucking kid. And y/n only used that. She constantly took advantage of Jake. She got under his skin and tricked him into shit using that kid as collateral damage. Seriously.Ā
What. A. Vicious. Whore.Ā
The worst part of all of it was. . . Iād let her get this close. But now that Iād seen this little trick sheād just pulled, I was not so sure I could keep my mouth shut anymore. Her claws had no place in my man. Who the fuck did she think she was that she could put him on her Close Friends list like that? And post that hoe ass picture to her Close Friends? The little stupid bitch just wanted to make sure he would see that slutty picture.Ā
I just thought it was pretty pathetic that she was showing off her body like that when she was going to be a literal mom. Didnāt seem like something a mom should do. . . Not to me. What would the kid think? Growing up knowing its mom cared more about flaunting her body than being a good mom? And that just proved my point that she didnāt give a fuck about anyone but herself. Didnāt give a flying fuck about him. She was an embarrassment. Right along with that clump of cells in her belly.
I had let her cross too many lines. And I could make it so sheād never get Jake alone again if I really wanted to. Shit, Iām sure I could even convince him to let me move into the apartment. Never give them a moment alone. Yet, while I was worried about her advances, I wasnāt worried about how Jake viewed her. I knew he loved the kid, but I couldnāt believe for a second that he could ever think she was worth it.Ā
Which was why I couldnāt fucking understand why he was still looking at it. It had been minutes of this aimless conversation with my father about my branch of his company in New York. An hour while Jake went to talk to Josh and then came back to the table to look at y/n on his screen. Post, story, post, story. The occasional text with her. Couldn't see what they were saying. He was quick. Whatever. Probably some stupid ass pregnancy bullshit.
And now he was back on the blessed story. How was he looking at it? God. I still couldnāt tell. Was he glaring? I didnāt know. All I knew was heād been holding his thumb on the screen for a long fucking time so her story wouldnāt close out. There was no chance he actually liked that, right? There was no way.
His thumb had held the screen long enough, but when he finally moved it and let the story play through, I started to feel a little better about her little trick sheād tried to pull. . . But it didnāt actually get to play through. Because then, heād slid his thumb up on the raunchy ass photo and clicked the fucking heart eye emoji to react to it. That was fucking shitty enough. Then, the fucking fire emoji reaction came next. What the hell? Two emoji reactions?
What did it for me, though, was when heād slid his thumb again, tapped the send message bubble and typed out āGod fucking damn⦠So perfectā. What in the fuck?! Did the idiot think I couldnāt see over his shoulder? Seriously? Why was he encouraging her behavior? Nope. Not fucking okay. I was not going to let him get away with that.Ā
āGod. . . She is just so pretty, Jake,ā I finally said with all of the sugar I could muster in my tone. Sweet, but invading his space just enough to let him know that Iād seen everything. The way heād jumped out of his seat at the sound of my voice made it pretty clear that he didnāt realize I was looking. And it gave me a sick satisfaction. Caught ya, buddy.
I knew Iād caught him off guard. . . that little āshe looks really good, doesnāt she?ā sort of comment in response to his moment of openly staring at her. The blush that was slowly but surely covering his features as I blinked my long lashes at him pissed me off. . . And the message. I couldnāt scratch it out of my mind. What the fuck? Had he simply sent it because he felt bad for her? Had he been taking a long moment to pity her? Or, in some part of his brain, had he actually thought she looked good like that?Ā
God. I hoped not. Jake was smarter than that ā classier than that. . . Than to think she looked anywhere near attractive as a pregnant sow. What could actually be so hot about an overweight, bloated body? The man had good taste, so surely not. . . I mean, he was dating me, for Godās sake. All heād ever done with her was fuck her. She had her rightful place secured. Below me.
It was quite funny, actually, how little sheād truly had of him. It made a smug grin come to my face, just as he was looking over his shoulder at me. He was locking his phone at the same time that I turned my grin into one of faux authentic appreciation for her. But seriously. Fuck that bitch. I was really doing such a good job at this front I was putting on. I bet that he couldnāt tell that I was actually pissed about it. Iād gotten quite good at this ridiculous act to hide my distaste for her.Ā
For added effect, I tacked on an extra bit of falseness that made me want to puke. āShe carries pregnancy so well, huh?ā I was doing damn good at keeping this smile on my fucking face. Part of the reason I was trying so hard to look nice and undeceiving was to make sure he knew that I was the more beautiful of the two of us. Both looks-wise and heart-wise, I beat that bitch by a landslide.Ā
And even if it pained me, I would keep up this stupid act that I liked her. . . If all it meant was I could keep him, that would be enough. Because no matter what, I just wanted him to know I was the better person of the two of us. He was staring at me, at a complete loss for words. It made me want to question him. But considering we were at this restaurant with my father, at a very nice establishment. . . now was not the time or place.Ā
āWho is it, MyMy?ā My father had asked from across the way, which just made me raise a brow at Jake. āWho is pretty?ā
Oh. . . yes. I hadnāt told my father about Jakeās situation. Iād known better than to do that. My father would not be happy to know I was dating a man whoād knocked up another woman. Whether it was before me or after me, my father wouldnāt hesitate to have very little patience for that.Ā
And, as much as I wanted to shame Jake for his actions, ruining Jakeās image for my father was not what I wanted in the long run. Not at all. Heād done so enough on his own. . . Leaving the table for so fucking long. No. I had to try my best to make him look good. I wanted to keep Jake in my life. But, my father had to find out sometime. . . if I was going to have the role in this kidās life that I knew I was bound to take on. Mommy #2. Or simply, a variation of Mom or Mommy or Momma. . . Any of those titles had a nice little ring to them.
āDo you want to tell him, Jakey?ā I posed the question, so innocently, to my boyfriend with a couple of flutters of my dark lashes. āItās your exciting news to share.ā
His expression was one of peak confusion. Like he thought Iād already told my father about his predicament. . . Ha! There was no way in hell my father would have greeted him with such open arms had he already known. Who in the fuck did Jake Kiszka think my father was?Ā
It really showed how little Jake actually knew about being a good, decent father. He had a lot to learn. When he was leaning over to whisper in my ear, I was momentarily sidetracked from my thoughts by how damn good he smelled. It shouldāve been a crime to turn someone on so effortlessly. . . With only a mere cologne.
āDoes he not know?ā He asked me, his tone slightly clipped in my ear. Like he was upset with me, of all people. That was fucking laughable!Ā
I moved towards him, muttering quietly in his ear with a tiny smile that was somehow sticking to my features. All in the name of an act. āI wanted you to get to share our exciting news, sweetie.ā
Our. Yes, our. Even if thinking of the kid invading my life with its dad made me want to vomit profusely, I wanted to continue to be with Jake. And fuck y/n if she thought this kid only belonged to them. I was in this for the long haul because of my love and desire to be with Jake. . . Wanted to get to see his fame come to be and be a part of that with him.Ā
āI uh ā,ā Jake started, slowly pulling away from me as his eyes darted back and forth between my dad and me. Eventually, his eyes landed in his lap. A look of. . .defeat? Shame? Good. Sit in it, Jacob.Ā
āWell, I had a thing with this girl,ā he began, ruffling the front of his hair like he so often did. It pissed me off when heād do it ā messing up his hair for nothing. āWasnāt too serious, I suppose. . . But, well. . .,ā he paused once more and I reached over to grasp his hand. I gave it a slight squeeze to urge him to keep going. Jesus Christ.Ā
āWell what, son?ā My father urged, his face showing zero patience for his lagging. Seriously. Same, Dad.
āShe's pregnant.ā Deplorable fucking words that made me want to scream. But they were out there. Fucking clear as day.
My dad straightened his body against the back of his chair, setting his fork down on his plate firmly before crossing his arms. He wasnāt happy, but in such a nice eatery, he would keep his cool. All about the image in this family. Although, his face was set, hard as stone. Lips, a flat line, and his jaw so impossibly tight with quiet aggravation. . . I knew that look from my father very well. He could hide his irritation from most, but not me. Not when it was a look I found so fucking impressive.Ā
This look ā one heād give people when he was all ears, but not in a good way. Not in an understanding way. I rarely got the look. My father had told me nearly my entire life how I could do little wrong. Heād always understood me. This look had always been reserved for the people who had wronged me, or him, or us.Ā
Amir Mustafa ā my father ā he was. . . a simply powerful man. Iād looked up to him and his ability to control people and situations for my entire life. Many employees of ours had gotten this brash, stern look right before getting kicked to the fucking curb. He did it all my laugh growing up, right in front of me, to countless miserable people. (And now I got to do the exact same thing to my employees. . .) I watched my father, seeing the wheels in his mind beginning to turn. And god knew my father was not going to let this news set easily over our barely touched dessert trays.Ā
āAnd sheās, um. . .,ā Jake looked at me again as he cleared his throat, a look of fear and embarrassment on his face. For the sake of putting on this ridiculous show of understanding for him, my grin widened.Ā
Thankfully, Jake quit stupidly pursing his lips. His mouth, opening timidly right before he said the punch line. āThe baby isā. Sheās pregnant withāwith my baby.ā
And there it was! He was so stiff under my hands, which still held onto his arm in the spirit of fake pride and togetherness with this obscene news.
I was glad he was so stiff underneath me. He needed to sit in this. Because god knew ā Iād be embarrassed if I were him, too. Embarrassed to admit I was the father of her offspring. And, yeah, I knew this wasnāt easy for him. But he didnāt deserve for it to be easy. Heād gotten himself into this mess. And put me in the middle of it with him. The little stunt that had gotten him here had happened after heād left me high and dry over the summer. . . If only heād have stayed with me. He wouldnāt be in this ludicrous situation. But, in spite of how he deserved to be treated by me, I just sat and smiled. Supported his mistake-making ass.
God. . . I was so easygoing and compassionate for this man. So kind hearted and patient to put up with his and y/nās bullshit. He was so lucky to have me. Even more lucky to have me than I was to have him. . . And that was saying something. He was a gift, sure. But I was a serious gift to him to stick around during this shit. Though, I would let him sit in his uncomfortable, messy truth that he had to come clean about ā to my dad. I couldnāt keep picking up Jakeyās mess. Fuck no!
I was just so excited for my dadās reaction. It was, undoubtedly, going to be in my favor. Knowing my father, I wondered if now was the time heād reveal the little secret Iād kept from Jake. Surely this information would set him over the edge enough that heād mention it. Get offended that this had been flaunted in front of my face for āXā amount of time. Heād get spitting angry for one very specific reason.Ā
This reason. . . Well, it was one my father had cared much more for than I ever had. . . Getting this certain information years ago hadnāt bothered me at all, really. But my father? Heād always hated the idea for me. This man had defended my honor when it came to topics such as this. And now that I was directly involved in the pregnancy of someone else?Ā
āThe baby is due in May,ā Jake continued, apparently feeling the need to fill the air with more words.
Rather than rolling my eyes like I wanted, I let my faux smile widen at my dad. I even grabbed Jakeās arm tighter, laying my head on his shoulder, as though we were telling my daddy the news together. But, of course, I wasnāt about to say a damned word. Iād let Jake do all the talking. Wasnāt really my news to share, honestly. His little fucking joyride he was paying the consequences for. Besides, the less I had to speak her name, the better.Ā
I had zero problem putting Jake through this awkward little confession. Especially after I had caught sight of his little interaction with y/nās instagram post. He deserved it after that. No matter the reason for messaging her. He was dating me. Other women shouldnāt exist. He deserved my dadās piercing stare; this stare, smothering Jake for a long time before anyone else spoke. I knew what that meant, too. It meant my dad had a lot to say, but he was letting it all sink in before he said all that he was thinking.
I knew he wouldnāt speak out of anger. I knew he would say it all in a way that would make Jake feel really bad about the whole fucking thing. Make him think about it in ways he hadnāt yet. But I also knew where it was going. That little something I hadnāt brought up to Jake yet. I was waiting for the right time, and for the appropriate situation to come up. The situation that I would come out on top of. For once, everything wouldnāt be about her.Ā
With a sarcastic smile on his face, my dad finally took a breath to begin his response. And I, still hanging onto Jakeās tense arm, kept the same smug ass grin on mine. āThis is certainly news to me,ā my dad said, with zero congratulations. There was none necessary. Fuck this kid, seriously. My father kept his arms crossed tight against his puffed chest. āAnd this girl. . . I assume, then, that sheās still in the picture? Do you see her often?āĀ
I could feel Jake taking a deep breath at that question. The air was shaky as he breathed it out of his nose, his arm rock solid with the increase of tension. And, god. . .Try as I might have. . . The flexing of his muscles began to turn me on. Yeah, I knew it was an inappropriate response given the situation. I rubbed my thighs together subtly under the table. I could feel however I wanted, though. I wasnāt the one in the hot seat. And in that moment, I felt solid in the fact that Jakeās tension was because of me. And that made me want him all the more, because I knew that tension was because of how much he cared about me. And I was loving it.Ā
I wanted him to feel tense about it. He was finally getting an idea about how I felt about the whole situation. Being with Jake was all I desired, and I was willing to go through this shit to be with him. But he needed to be slapped in the face with the reality of it all. And I was glad my dad would be the one to make him understand my side. I couldnāt be the one to do it. I needed to keep up my nice girl act in front of everyone. Not let on to the fact that it all pissed me the fuck off.
Jake looked at me with wide eyes, and I just smiled. I wasnāt going to help him explain that shit. I left the floor open for him to tell my dad about the fucked up living situation. Maybe Jake saying the words out loud to someone outside of the whole thing ā seeing someone elseās perspective on it ā would make him understand how I felt about it. I waited, on baited breath, ready to listen to Jake give my dad the truth. He lived with this woman. And I couldnāt deny, he deserved a negative reaction for it. . . For what he was putting me through.Ā
The sexy man under my hands gulped as he turned his attention back to my dad, whose piercing glare never let up. I swore he didnāt blink once as he waited for Jakeās response, his thin lips under his black mustache pursed.Ā
āSheās. . .,ā Jake cleared his throat once more, and his body stiffened completely against the back of his chair as he sucked in a deep breath. I kept my grip on him, held his arm even tighter than before, felt the sudden urge to dig my nails into the muscles. Fuck. I watched my dadās eyes flit to me, then narrow in on Jake. āSheās my, uhāsheās actually my roommate.ā
Jakeās hand shot up to his scalp, fluffing his hair and smoothing it back down. God. Stop messing with your hair. Youāre ruining it. Then he began rubbing away at his chin. Little nervous ticks of his that pissed. me. off. But, I was more focused on the excited nerves surfacing in me about admitting the fucked up truth. It made me shiver with excitement.Ā
When I looked over at my dad, I got even more thrilled. Because it was obvious he was far from happy with that news. It was apparent in his body language, and the silent non-verbals he was communicating to Jake. The clenching jaw, the breathy chuckle of disbelief. Jake knew it was fucked up. He wouldn't have been so goddamn nervous about admitting it if he didnāt know. The way he hesitated before delivering the news said that he was probably not so proud to admit such a thing. Who would be? And who would want to tell their girlfriendās dad about such a thing?
Letās just say, he was lucky my dad had never been the physically violent type. No, his weapon of choice was always in his words, in the way he could manipulate people with them. Watching him get what heād wanted out of people my whole life taught me a lot; he taught me how to get what I wanted out of people. I knew how to play nice, learned to easily pick up on how people ticked and used that to my advantage. Iād learned to tell people the things they wanted to hear, made people like me by faking whatever I needed to in order to earn their trust.Ā
My dad was always quick to acclimate himself to any situation, to anybody with a simple manipulation tactic based on what he'd known about them. And I always did the very same thing. Because of that little trait of ours, I knew what he was going to say and how he was going to say it. He knew just what to say to pull even more guilt from Jake. Thatās why I never told him, because I knew the right time would come. And this was the right time. Perfect, actually.
He let the silence linger just a bit longer, making sure Jake was nice and petrified of his reaction. āYou know, Mr. Kiszka,ā my dad said as he uncrossed his arms, his voice much softer than Jake had probably expected, given the harsh breath heād sucked in when my dad began speaking.
But I knew exactly what my dad was thinking, how he was feeling. I knew the sweet voice was only a front, a tactic he used often when he wanted to make someone feel, well, like shit. āI, uh, donāt know if MyMy has told you this yet. . .,ā he paused with a sincere smile, making sure the silence hung in the air even more to add to the effect of the news.Ā
I smiled too when Jake looked at me again. A sad smile, though. As sad as I could make it. My dad and I locked eyes and communicated with each other that we were on the same page. Silently, of course. We could always speak with our eyes. I carefully nodded my head at him, giving him the āokayā to keep going.Ā
I could feel Jakeās arm loosen just a little under my fingers when he looked back to my dad. His pretty lips were parted and his eyebrows were scrunched. He had no idea what was coming. I felt a little bad for him because of that, actually. No one should have to carry as much guilt as my poor Jake did. With as much as I knew he really loved me, I knew this would hurt.Ā
āJake,ā my dad said as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. āIām overjoyed for you ā overjoyed that youāll have this singular opportunity to experience being a father.āĀ
He was using the exact tactic I knew he would. Excited for Jake, but with a tone that held sorrow for me. I felt it coming. I had to contain myselfāI was ready for it. Ready for the news that would seal Jakeās guilt and keep him with me. My father cleared his throat before he laced his hands together, eyes intent on Jakeās. āBecause our beautiful MyMy will never be able to carry a child.ā There it was.
Jake stiffened under my hold before he looked down at me. I laid my head on his shoulder, even sniffed a few fake tears. It was trueāI was born with a defect that made it impossible for me to ever become pregnant. Sure, it was sad. Whatever. Sad for most women, maybe. My dad had always felt horrible about it. But for me, it was a different story.Ā
I had always viewed it as a positive thing. I didnāt want kids. I had never wanted kids. No, definitely not my cup of tea. First of all, kids were simply a nuisance to me. I was glad Iād never had to worry about getting pregnant. Second of all, having a kid would undoubtedly take the attention away from me ā only my kid getting the attention. Yeah, no thanks. And, third, it just meant I got to have a lot of unprotected fun. Well. . . until Jake. Who hated having sex without condoms. Probably despised that he was having a kid in the first place and wanted to be extra safe, but didnāt want to say so. That was probably why he was protecting himself so well. But, now, that was something he knew he never had to worry about. No surprises, no accidents.Ā
Knowing Jake, I knew this āsadā fact about me was something I could use to make him feel bad for me. Another little tactic Iād learned from my father. And that combined with me knowing the way Jake ticked. . . This little āunfortunateā truth about my body would force him to sympathize with me. Make him feel so bad that heād stop giving such a fuck about y/n and give more fucks about me.Ā
āMaya. . . why didnāt youā,ā Jakeās voice was solemn, shocked. He looked me in the eyes, with his that had started glassing over. He was about to cry? Ugh, poor thing. He felt it right along with me. He knew that my heart had been broken by the triggering news of him becoming a father. Something I would never be able to give him. āWhy didnāt you tell me this?ā
I mustered all the fake emotion my body was able to create, even shed a few alligator tears to really add to the effect. āIām sorry, Jakey. I didnāt want to cause you anymore stress, baby. Youāre already under so much.ā All because of the mistake baby and stupid ass y/n's attention-seeking ass, I added silently. I sniffed to cover my inward irritation. It was the last of my tears, though, so I decided to lean in and kiss his stiff lips. My poor Jake. So full of sadness for me that he couldnāt even kiss me back. āYou know, with y/n and all. I didnāt want to add anymore pressure to you. I just didnāt want you to feel bad for me.āĀ Because she does such a good job at making you feel bad for her and I'm better than that, I added (once again) silently.
āFeel bad forā?ā He looked at me in pure confusion, and I was starting to get upset over his lack of a response. I had fully expected him to hold me right when he was told the news, tell me how much he loved me and that heās sorry for everything he had put me through in our time together.Ā
But to my shock, he pulled his arm away from me. Completely yanking it from my hand. A knee-jerk response, I thought. Maybe his way of coping with such a thing was to withdraw, let it really sink in before comforting me in such a difficult moment. Iāll say this, though ā he shouldāve considered himself lucky that my dad hadnāt been paying close enough attention to pick up on that little move of his. Yeah, he surely wouldāve put Jake in his place had he witnessed that. Dad had reached for some chocolate something sitting on the giant dessert charcuterie board during the awkward lull. This had kept his eyes focused elsewhere when Jake had pulled that little trick. God. . . this lull - inevitably caused by Jake. Aggravating. . . BUT, I was understanding. So, even if it were annoying, I didnāt take that as a bad sign. I not only knew that it wasnāt anything more than Jakeās way of dealing with the news, but I was the calm and stable girlfriend that didnāt flip shit over those things.Ā
āI know this may be hard for you to hear, Mr. Kiszka,ā my father said, his voice breaking through the silence that Jake had opted for. āEspecially since you clearly arenāt opposed to having a family. Not the careful type, are ya, son?ā My dad laughed, and I laughed, too. Made it seem as though it wasnāt a big deal to have a baby momma. I didnāt want Jake to take this whole having a kid with y/n thing any more seriously than he already had been. Yeah, it was a big deal. But why make him think it was the biggest deal in his life? When I was right there?Ā
āListen,ā my dad continued. āYou and I both know that our Maya is worth it. Sheās worth more than all of the babies in the world. Sheās no less of a woman because of it. Youāre enough of a man to understand that. Isnāt that right, Mr. Kiszka?ā
Jake just stared into his lap. His eyes were squinted from the crinkle in his brows. He mustāve not heard my dad, because he wasnāt very quick to respond. And it really began to annoy me when he didnāt respond at all. It was like his mind was somewhere else. And I didnāt like it, because I didnāt know where it was. It took me nudging his shoulder to get his fucking attention. And even then, heād asked my father to repeat himself when he lifted his head. When he decided to join us at the table again.Ā
When my dad said everything for the second time, and then cleared his throat for emphasis, Jake nodded his head. āY-yes, sir. Sheāuh, yeah. Yeah, she is.ā
That didnāt convince me for shit. He sounded unsure, like he didnāt believe it. It couldāve been the shock of the news that made him sound that way. Had to be. He knew it was true. He knew I was worth more than anyāthan hisābaby. Having me at his side was the real prize. He knew that. But it still felt. . . Not how I wanted it to feel. He wasnāt giving enough. I wanted him to give more. More of a reaction, more of a response, more to me.Ā
I started having a hard time putting on a front any longer, because I was confused. I looked at my dad. And he was confused, too. But he didnāt say anything else. The best thing to do at that point was to let Jake stew on his words.Ā
And even though my little act was beginning to crumble, I still managed to put on another smile. I squeezed Jakeās thigh, holding my hand there to offer him the reassurance that he wasnāt offering me. Heād hear about this later, that was for certain. āThank you, baby,ā I said to him, keeping my hand on him to remind him of who was by his side.Ā
A woman who had put up with more from him than any woman would. Me.
End of Mayaās POV
It was Christmas Eve when you felt the first kick.Ā
At first, you hadnāt been totally sure what it was, waking up in a panic in the middle of the night.Ā
Youād felt something rustle in your tummy. . . thought it was an upset stomach, leading to something that could possibly be wrong. But when youād realized you didnāt feel sick, youād let yourself lay there and think as the little thumping feeling happened again in your tummy. The feeling had you reflecting on Dr. Roseās words from your last visit. Youād been on your way out, with fresh knowledge of the fact that there was a baby girl bouncing around in your tummy. After hearing how (apparently) active she was, youād asked about kicking. When would you finally be able to feel the baby kick?
Dr. Rose had answered wisely and unworried, knowing the answer without even having to think about it. āIād be surprised if you didnāt start feelinā your sweet girlās purposeful movements within the next couple of weeks. The āQuickening,ā as itās most often called. When she starts movinā to tell ya sheās there,ā sheād winked, explaining as she clicked a few buttons to get your next appointment set up on the front deskās computer. The office had been empty at that point, as youād been the last patient that day. An early evening appointment, as you remembered. āThe movements feel strange at first, just a warnin'. Like a little flutter in your tummy, but different. Iād say what most compare them to are tiny pulses. Each kick from the foot or elbow being flung ā they feel like a single pulse of a heartbeat ā thatās what I hear from first-time mothers more than anythinā else.ā
And that was exactly what it felt like to you. Right now. Honest to God. The feeling was so strange; odd enough that itād literally awoken you.Ā
Lavender had woken you up. Your baby girl.Ā
And her little movements ā so purposeful. They truly felt like teeny tiny heartbeats in your belly. You looked down, lifting your giant t-shirt to observe. Stevie had rustled for the briefest of moments at your feet, but had snuggled back down when sheād realized you werenāt in trouble. You watched your tight, round tummy to observe if you could see any of the movements. . . you knew it wasnāt unusual for babies to be visible from the outside. Little imprints from their feet or hands. . . . youād watched enough TikToks to know that.Ā
It was a few minutes that you watched and waited, but the movements stayed internal. No external evidence. . . Too early for that, surely. But. . .you knew there was a way to feel them externally. If you just touched your tummy where you felt her on the inside, youād be able to feel her right under the palm of your hand.
Yet, as badly as you wanted to touch where you felt it, you were also hyper aware of not doing so much that could inadvertently make the baby stop. Yes, it sounded unlikely, but youād been dying to feel her and you wanted the feeling to last as long as it could. However it could. It was the craziest sensation and completely took your breath away. . . you could have felt it happen forever and it still wouldnāt have been long enough.Ā
But. . . you had to feel closer to her. She was right there. You couldnāt stop yourself if you tried. And, when you gently placed your hands on the taut skin of your tummy, your breath caught in your throat. Tears immediately sprung to your eyes.Ā It was unlike anything else ever. . . To feel your baby girl moving under your hand. Little, tiny kicks as if to say āhello, mommy!ā.Ā
Very carefully, you went to raise onto your knees, the softness of your sheets pressing delicately into your soft skin. You kept your t-shirt raised, then put your palm on your belly once more. . . And it took almost no time to feel her. Still. She just kept on going. . . Dr. Rose had said she was active. . . And god, you loved it. You could tell now. She was old enough to show you herself ā finally.Ā
God. Tonight had truly been a night to rival all others. First, the Nutcracker. Then, the wonderful bubble bath youād treated yourself to, to combat the cold temperatures from the evening. And finally. . . the cherry on top ā Lavender kicking.Ā
The only person missing from all of it. . . the one you wanted there most ā for all of it. . . . . .Was the same one whoād left you on delivered for the past twenty four hours. An entire day of nothing.
The texts that had started after your earth-shattering, toe-fucking-curling phone call ā the texts that heād started. But, no response after your final text (which had not been the type of text to end a conversation on). Nothing in response to you when youād responded to his Instagram message. Youād taken fucking courage and responded with a damn heart, too. It was terrifying using a heart in a text with someone you were secretly in love with. . . And it had been the second time youād done it last night. But. . .he hadnāt even seen it. Hadnāt even cared to look.Ā
You were so damn confused. And hurt.Ā
But, the night before with Josh and Elsie, watching movies into the wee hours of Christmas Eve morning. And then, with your time with them and your grandparents at the ballet tonight. These events had been more than enough to raise your spirits. The ballet, gelato at Amorino, and having your people with you had done very well at distracting you. Youād taken time to tell your grandparents the gender and the name, but hadnāt divulged the full significance of the name. All they knew was that the plant was a favorite of yours that correlated with certain events that concerned your pregnancy with Lav.Ā
When youād gotten home, you had felt a hint of sadness as the dark, empty apartment had surrounded you. The disheartening feeling that came with the lack of communication with Jake. The deafening static of crickets from your phoneās text and Instagram message thread with Jake. Youād kept your phone on Do Not Disturb, but the urge to check to see if heād responded had been too strong on a few occasions that evening.Ā
So, in order to get your mind off of it, youād focused on Stevie for a long while. Youād fed her, given her a couple of her favorite treats, snuggled and pet her as youād scrolled TikTok. . .
And before long, youād decided on self care; a bubble bath. And it had been very nice. So damn nice. Youād used the little bath tray Elsie had gotten for you the Christmas before last, filled your bath with a lavender-scented bubble bath soap, threw in a pink bath bomb, and lit many candles that smelled like your favorite plant.Ā
On a last minute thought, right before youād settled in the tub, you decided on a movie. So, with your phone on a stand on the toilet seat, youād watched through Barbie in The Nutcracker. It was a favorite of yours and Elsieās that youād watched the night previous with Josh when theyād stayed the night with you. But the temptation to watch it again had been too great and it always lifted your spirits to indulge in it.Ā
Once the bath had done its job at relaxing you, sleep had come easily. Though, it was as if Lavender had known that youād needed a touch more of encouragement to see through Christmas Eve. To see through her father ignoring you.Ā
Itās fine, youād told yourself all night. Heās not yours. You can only be so upset. Get. Over. It.
Yet, with Lavender giving the tiniest, feather-light kicks to your palm, Jake was, once again, on your mind. How badly you wanted him here for this. Home. With you.Ā
When you glanced at your phone screen, you noticed it was already past midnight. . . You had no clue what the flight schedules were and he hadnāt told you shit about when heād be headed home. Considering heād ignored you completely all day long. . . But, seriously. You couldnāt blame him. You werenāt together. He didnāt necessarily owe you that specific knowledge.Ā
So, all you could do in the waiting was sit there, on your knees and feel her. . . Let the warm sensation that was blooming in your chest take over. For the millionth time in the past two days, though, you really fucking hated this trip that Jake was on that had taken him away from you. . . Because he shouldāve been here for this.Ā
Lavenderās very first kicks.Ā
Jakeās POV
Only ten minutes away from home. Only. Ten. Minutes.
I didnāt know where this had come from, but it hadnāt stopped for the past three and a half hours. On the way to the airport, waiting at the airport, on the way to the car at the airport, and now. . . On our way to y/nās apartment. Home.Ā
All of this shit from Maya, directed at me, coincided with me doing shit Iād gone out of my way to do for her. Iād taken time away from my Christmas with Josh ā with y/n ā for this little trip to South Carolina to see her father. . . Iād absolutely gone out of my way to do that shit to make her happy. But apparently what I did wasnāt enough as she was pointing out ways she needed me to give her more.Ā
āI just feel like youāre not giving me all of you, Jake,ā sheād said as weād ventured through the airport in South Carolina. āFor instance, your baby. . . I donāt even know half of anything about the baby.ā
āYouāre holding back. Thereās so much more to you and whatās going on in your life all of the time. . . So much more that Iām not getting,ā was what sheād continued on with as weād boarded the plane to come home. āAnd as your girlfriend, I feel I deserve all of who you are. . . I love you, Jakey. . .So I want more of you.ā
Then, waiting at baggage claim at LaGuardia, it had persisted. Holding onto my arm as Iād given her kiss after kiss to get her to stop talking. . . But, of course, that hadnāt worked. āI just canāt believe there is so much about all of the baby stuff that I still donāt know, Jakey. . . Thereās all kinds of fun, exciting shit that I donāt know and I want to,ā sheād explained, one hand going to slide into my back pocket as the other had only tightened on my bicep.Ā
Iād looked down at her, raising a brow at her antics. Yes, it was sweet of her to care. . . It was just a lot. I didnāt know why she was so adamant about all of it. If it had been because of insecurities due to seeing my response to y/nās story, I had already said sorry for responding to it.Ā
And for not knowing how the fuck to explain it when sheād brought it up to me, Iād done a damn good job lying to her. Obviously, Iād had to lie. Iād talked her down from all of the story shit. Iād done all I could to lie my way out of that. I couldnāt honestly tell her it hadnāt meant anything, but Iād lied enough that I felt sheād fallen for it. Iād told her that Iād only been talking about my babyās perfection. . . . I had just known, when it came up over breakfast (just the two of us, thank god), that I had to hide it ā this thing between y/n and me that had come to be again. I couldnāt lose it just because I was foolish enough with my actions for Maya to see some words and shit.
Much to my relief, sheād bought it. She had been totally fine after Iād explained it, itād seemed. . .Was it the fact that I now knew about her inability to have kids? Was she feeling better about having that all out in the open? More open to discussing things about the baby? Or was there something else that she was insecure or upset over? I didnāt know how to explain this sudden influx of demands and the nonstop talking. It was new. These tangents she just kept going and going. Even with just my eyebrow raises and half assed replies ā sheād taken those as indicators to continue.Ā
āIāll wait, though. . . For a bit. I love you enough to wait, but. . . Only for so long before I get really hurt. . . You know?ā Sheād rubbed my arm right before Iād had to leave her to grab her first (enormous) bag. And still, when I came back with it, she was wrapping around me the same as before and kept going. āIām dying to be more involved. I want all of you. Wanna help you however I can. Really, baby. . .ā And, sheād gone the extra mile on that one, rubbing her incredible tits against my arm as sheād grasped my ass through my jeans, left hand still in my back pocket.Ā
Once weād gotten her second (equally huge) bag and my one duffel, weād had to make a quick stop in a single stall bathroom. Iād already been on edge about getting home to y/n after last night. . .and after Mayaās little trick with her boobs? I was but a man who loved a good set of fuckinā tits. And Maya knew that ā pulled that shit on purpose, And while I was definitely not complaining, I was beyond ready to get home. Thankfully, there hadnāt been a whole lot of talking in the bathroom. It had just been a lot of skin slapping against skin. And her (slightly irritating) whines Iād covered with my hand. It hadnāt been too bad, as Iād finished pretty quickly after getting her there even quicker. Because, seriously. I was tired from the trip and ready to get home.
However, she had tried to make me pause to discuss why I had still put on a condom when I knew now that she couldnāt have kids. . . I didnāt explain to her that it was because I simply never had sex without condoms (unless it was y/n, of course). Iād just acted as though I hadnāt heard the question and said some shit about getting home.Ā
Getting home was the goal.
But even after that quickie and after me ignoring that one question about the condom, she was on the same shit from before. . . So. Fucking. Persistent.Ā
āI just donāt know how else to get you to understand Iām hurting for more, baby. . . Iām in the dark and it does not feel good. If youāll just let me around more and if you just tell me more about your baby and all of the baby news. . . Iāll feel so much better. I want to stick around for the long haul, but I need to feel more connected to it all. . . Itās important to me.ā
She wasnāt wrong at the fact that I hadnāt given her as much of me as I could, with all of this baby stuff.Ā But, I still felt like I was doing a pretty damn good job for my predicament. I had a child now. A child that deserved more of my time than Maya did. I also had a responsibility (and a burning fucking desire) to be there for y/n. I couldnāt just be everything, all of the time, for Maya. Not anymore. But she was suddenly acting as though that was what she needed to stick around.Ā
I especially didnāt want to lose her ā break up with her ā after finding out her news. Not like I had wanted to lose her or anything before. . . But now, I knew how much I really wanted her to stay around. I felt for her. Very deeply, I felt for her. I loved her and I wanted to do everything in my power to give her even half of the good sheād given me for the majority of our relationship. The entire time Iād known Maya, she had been a helper for me. A listening ear. A sweet and kind confidant, no matter the situation. Through my heartbreak and joy, she was there and she was good for me. To me. She showed her love for me and her heart on a daily basis. I knew that I had a prize in Maya. It was one of the biggest reasons I hadnāt broken things off with her to be with y/n.Ā
That brought me to the paramount reason I couldnāt end things with her. The painful realization that y/n could very well not ever want me. At least not in the way I wanted her. How Iād always wanted her. Y/n wanted things to stay the way they were. She had already said plenty to indicate that she didnāt want to change the arrangement we used to have (and were hopefully going to have again). I didnāt want to risk losing Maya, only to not have y/n. Iād stayed with Maya to fill that void. I couldnāt trust that y/n wouldnāt still hurt me if I gave her all of me. . . I knew y/n very well ā and well enough that I knew she could still get scared enough to lead us back to the day in the kitchen. And we couldnāt do that yelling at each other shit anymore with a baby around. . . Y/nās inability to commit and my longing for that with her. . . Not a good match. And that was all weād come to, yet again, if I were to try to take us beyond the just-fucking.Ā
And, then, there were the two talks (yes, two ā one at Carmellaās and one afterwards) her dad had given me. . . All of the talk of her not being able to have kids and the good she deserved. I couldnāt lose her. Her fatherās words were the final reason for not ending things with Maya. The tense moment, at his home, on repeat in my head. Said heād āwanted a moment to talk with me about everythingā ā only him and me.Ā
It had happened after weād gotten back to his massive and expensive home, from that famous sweet treats place called Carmellaās. Fuckinā Carmellaās.Ā
When weād gotten to her dadās house, it had been late enough that Maya had wanted to go to bed, lay in her (probably) 100 percent cotton Egyptian sheets. It was obvious that they had money ā a lot of it. . . And it was obvious that her father loved to spoil her with it. To each their own. But, I hadnāt wanted to sleep yet.
No, after my day, Iād wanted to take a shower to relax my mind. . .to think about everything that Iād found out about from Mayaās father. Not Maya, but her father. That had stung like a massive bitch, but not nearly as badly as Iād expected. . . Though, in my head, I could only imagine having babies with y/n. Iād mentioned more babies to her before and Iād meant that shit. Had slipped up when saying it, but in my heart, Iād known. It was the truth.Ā
Considering this, Iād only really been sad for Maya, more than me. . . Not really sad for me at all. Just hurt that sheād kept that from me. I just couldnāt feel sadness for it on my futureās behalf because I didnāt want her to be the mother to my children. Didnāt trust her with that. Loved her, but not enough to be my future babiesā mom. . . . Only trusted y/n that much.Ā
It was odd, because even if I didnāt trust y/n with my heart, I explicitly trusted only her with my kids. I think it was because I knew she was only scared to care that deeply for me ā it seemed wouldnāt ever let herself. But I knew, wholeheartedly, that she could care for our children like that. That she would. Already was. Lavender was a lucky baby girl to have a mommy like her. . . To have her as a mommy specifically. Because y/nās heart was so incredibly huge.Ā
In the end, I was just pissed the fuck off that sheād let her dad tell me. She was a thirty year old woman whoād damn sure informed other people of it, so why not me? I was someone sheād told me she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. . . She felt comfortable enough telling me plenty of other things. Personal things.Ā
Itād been quite a lot to process with her giant father there, eyes stony as heād stared me down. I hadnāt even wanted to worry about his opinion of me. . . I wouldāve preferred to only discuss this type of thing with Maya. Even if I didnāt want it with her, her lack of care to inform me of it sooner had pissed me off beyond words. It was like sheād wanted me to be humiliated. But. . . I knew Maya better than that, right? Sheād never been like that before. . . . Conniving or anything of the sort. Perhaps she truly had been worried to tell me because she wanted to spend the rest of her life with me.
When Iād finally somewhat calmed down from it after my long, hot shower, Iād only had y/n in mind. So, after Iād changed into my pajamas, Iād been on my way to call her from the front porch. Just wanted to hear her voice. To ease me. . . And, Iād be able to explain my sudden, unexpected absence. But, right before I could exit the hallway of Maya's old room, her father. Amir. Her father was humongous. Towered over me by a solid foot of height, and was easily 280 pounds of man.Ā
Heād approached me with purposeful steps and quiet footfalls. He didnāt want to disturb Mayaās sleep, but heād wanted to make a point with me. That much had been obvious right off the bat. And, just as Iād gone to greet him, heād held a large hand up, in front of my face.
āIāll control this conversation, Mr. Kiszka,ā heād rumbled at me, my name having come from deep in his puffed chest.Ā
Iād been nervous as fuck. The man intimidated me in a way I fucking hated. And I was tired of news about Maya coming from him. I hadnāt known if I could handle anything more that he couldāve wanted to tell me. What was next?, Iād wondered. Was Maya going fucking blind, too? And couldnāt tell me that, herself, either?Ā
My mind had begun swirling with other things that she possibly just hadnāt told me yet.Ā
āYes sir,ā Iād offered on a shaky breath. (I wasnāt easily intimidated, so I hated how this man made me feel so fucking small ā in stature and as a human being.)Ā
At my words, heād held up his hand again. His features, curving down to say ādonāt test meā. āI wanted to take a moment to talk ā just you and me,ā heād all but growled, crossing his massive arms across his chest.
After being scolded for speaking twice already, Iād only nodded while (sadly) placing my phone in my pocket. Iād known, based on his tone and stance, that I wouldnāt be able to go outside anytime soon. āMaya has been perfect her entire life. She has always been a dream. And she does not deserve to be treated like she isnāt just because you got yourself into a sticky situation,ā heād told me, backing me up against the nearest wall of the hallway. This moment had been worlds different from the restaurant. With Maya there, he'd taken a calm and cool approach.Ā
Though, when it was just me, heād been a lot more serious than before. Quiet, stern. Intent on intimidating the fuck out of me.Ā
āAnd, Iām inclined to believe, Mr. Kiszka, that if you havenāt ended things with my daughter by now,ā heād taken a deep breath in through his flared nostrils, gripping his arms to the point that his thick fingers, umber brown in color, had turned white. Iād swallowed ā thickly. āWell, it seems to me you donāt intend to. You want my baby girl to stick around. Youāve kept her around and forced her to experience all of this, led her around by a string. . . . And all while she canāt have her own children.āĀ
Heād walked close enough to me that my back was up against the wall, arms limp and lifeless at my sides as I hadnāt dared to look away from his almost-entirely-black irises. His pupils, dilated in his apparent rage. With his next words, Iād felt tiny droplets of spit land on my forehead. I hadnāt been able to control my fury, being spoken to like he had spoken to me. My fists had tightened at my sides and my entire body had stiffened to the point of completely unmoving. āIt would be a seriously dark and ugly mark on your character, Mr. Kiskza,ā heād spat my name at me, the words landed on my face in the form of his saliva. Heād been fucking snarling at me. No fucking joke. āTo force my Maya through all of this and then get rid of her as though she doesnāt matter. . . My sweet angel of a daughter.āĀ
I had never one to let people get to me, intimidate me all for the purpose of knocking me down and making me feel small. And, angry as I was, this conversation with her dad had certainly succeeded in shrinking me, inch by inch. . . . In that moment, Iād like shit for ever thinking of anyone but Maya. Felt tiny as a fucking mouse. . . Like gutter trash. Which, I knew, was what heād wanted. And, heād fully succeeded in getting it from me. . . I had put up with that shit, and let myself feel small all for the sake of loving his daughter enough to feel guilty for putting her through the shit I had. Heād had just a bit more to say, but had waited. Tapping his foot in anticipation for my response. As if I were his child, getting disciplined for stealing fucking cookies from the cookie jar.Ā
After a nod of confirmation from me that Iād heard his words, heād cleared his throat and continued.
āOur Maya deserves the world and if you donāt give it to her for the simple fact that youāre going to have a child, youād be a damned fool. And youād be cheapening my baby girl of the opportunity to be an incredible second mother to your child.ā
I hadnāt even dared to argue with him over my child not needing a second mother. Sheād have a solid one mother ā already did, in fact. Y/n was the only mother I wanted for our baby girl.Ā Lavender didnāt need multiple mothers. Only one perfect mother. And she already had one. Maya could be someone in my daughterās life, but not a mother. I didnāt want her doing that. I wouldnāt allow her to be a mother to my baby girl. Mayaās father had been wrong for insinuating anything different than that.Ā
But he wouldnāt have listened to me for a second. Not if it had anything to do with questioning his word. And everything else heād said had struck me enough that I hadnāt wanted to correct him at that moment. Come to think of it, his little confrontation and how shitty it had made me feel was definitely part of the reason Iād been on edge for the past almost-twenty four hours.Ā
And, unfortunately now, we were trapped in her car for the time being ā as weād driven to the airport in her car. Thankfully, I was driving ā so I got to control the speed at which we got back to my place. Iād also needed some sort of distraction from the way her voice was grating on my ever-loving nerves ā this nonstop questioning. The mere sound of her voice felt like a nail being driven in my eardrum. Again, this was something new that had recently developed. . . Most of my irritation with Maya, though, I was attributing to an insane amount of tiredness. All of the traveling. All of the talks. All of the emotions surrounding the texts and the phone call.Ā
āJake, I donāt understand why youāre keeping anything from me. None of it is that big of a deal, babe. . . . Itās just cutesy little baby stuff.āĀ
Where was this coming from?Ā
āWhat about the gender, babe? Thatās a good one! Just the gender. . .Ā Everyone is going to know it soon anyway,ā she tried to reason, as I mentally pled with the traffic light to just fucking change. āIf I just knew what we were expecting. . .ā
Goddammit. Not the gender. What the fuck? Seriously ā Maya, confronting me about wanting to know the goddamned gender, had been the last thing Iād needed to deal with. I did not want to tell her. That was exclusively mine and y/nās to share for now, along with my twin and her sister. There was no reason for Maya to know.Ā
But. . . . she was pushing me awfully close to a breaking point of some capacity. And Iād never felt that way with Maya. This way. This longing to just get her to shut up, somehow, some way. This ongoing frustration with her was something new. Something I felt starting last night at Carmellaās . . . . Hanging on to me ā clinging to me when that had been the last thing I wanted at that moment.Ā
I didnāt want to be annoyed with someone who I wanted so badly to love unconditionally. Sheād done so much for me; the least I could do for her was try to get past wherever this vexation had come from. But god ā I could hardly take anymore. I was just tired, surely. . . I was ready to get home and lay in my own bed. Speaking of which. . . I had no idea if Maya was planning on staying the night, but I really, really hoped she was planning on going to her own home, too.Ā
Didnāt want her to stay with me. For multiple reasons, but mostly one. One very beautiful reason, hopefully still waiting for me. . .
āJakey, please, babe. I just want to know as much as I can so I can start buying baby clothes forā.ā
āNo, Maya. Fuck!ā I finally snapped, voice raising a decibel higher than it should have in the small space of the car. Iād been giving half assed responses for the past few hours ā spent a lot of time giving her a variety of ways to say āIāll try my bestā or 'let me think about itā. But I couldnāt take it anymore. Thankfully, the traffic light switched within seconds of my heated way of reply. I felt really fucking bad ā didnāt want to snap at her. But it had been threatening to leave my lips for the past several hours and I couldnāt hold it in any longer. The last few words that somewhat sputtered from my mouth were from utter irritation and they couldnāt be contained, even if they were unintelligible. āIām notāI canātā The fuckingā? God! No. Please fucking stop. Just for a minute.ā
My words hung there, uncomfortably, for a few seconds before I heard her sigh. She was not happy about my response, but Iād had enough.
āWell,ā she replied, her voice more of a huff than anything. She was noticeably upset. And I wanted to roll my eyes at her sudden theatrics. Sheād never been like this. I couldnāt handle this shit right now.
But. . . when I heard a subtle sniff, I looked over at her with regret painted on my features. And, just like the sniff implied, there were legitimate tears accumulating in her pretty eyes. I hadnāt ever seen her cry for the entirety of our relationship. Even when weād just been fucking at the beginning of summer. . . And for the past few months of dating her, never a single tear. . . Maya had never cried. Last night at Carmellaās was the first time I had ever seen that from her. Those tears after her dad told me the news. . .Ā It had been hard to see from her.Ā
Maya was a dream, usually. So sweet, yet extremely even tempered ā not one to frequently break her calm resolve. It was something I loved about her. She was predictable. But I couldnāt have predicted anything at Carmellaās, just like I couldnāt have predicted this. Had I not tried well enough to know her? Fuck. That made me feel really shitty. Seriously, was it a bad thing that Iād never seen Maya cry until last night? And the idea that Iād made her cry. . . the idea that I could make any woman cry. . . I couldnāt help but think of y/nās tears. . . when she'd been forced to tell me about being pregnant with Lavender. How easily sheād broken down. And Iād hated it. . . didnāt want to see her cry. God.Ā
And while seeing Maya cry wasnāt nearly as bad as seeing y/n cry, it was still tugging at me ā eating at me. There was another traffic light. The last one. Right before we got to the apartment. I could see the complex. And while I really didnāt want to tell her the gender, I couldnāt stand the sniffling anymore. . . When I glanced over and saw a few tears spill from her eyes to her beautiful caramel-toned cheeks. . . Fuck. She was so pretty. And I loved her so much. . . it wasnāt that I didnāt love her.Ā
I just. . . fuck. I knew what the fuck it was. It was the other reason ā the main reason I was so urgent to get back home. The person I was so fucking anxious to simply be around again. The person Iād been missing since the damned moment I had to leave her ā unexpectedly.Ā
The woman that, no matter what, was popping into my mind. At every turn, I was relating things to her. For a reason. And I knew why. I fucking knew. . . . Ever since moving to New York, I had spent a lot of time thinking. And in this thinking, Iād come up with a theory. A theory that life was a song. And, no not like a song. Life was a song. Every person had their own enigmatic masterpiece, unfolding to reveal more of the melody everyday. And by the time a person died, the melody would be chaotic and beautiful ā all at once. The life song, all tied up with instruments unique to every person. Every incident in life, a different lyric that described a person.Ā
Then, of course, in every song, there was a chorus and a bridge. The chorus in life was what a person came back to ā at every turn, there was the same chorus to tie you back to the true meaning behind the song. The chorus was the reminder that, no matter what, it existed. And, without it, the song would be empty ā meaningless. Every song had a chorus and it was undoubtedly, the predominant and most essential part of the song.Ā
And then, there was a bridge. The bridge was the triumphant part of the song that made the entire song make sense. . . The Sui Generis, as Iād call it. This idiosyncratic, rare, special section of the song ā so unlike the rest of the melody. . . The bridge made goosebumps build because it made one wonder ā where had it been for the entire song? It was so magnificent and beauteous that it made the song have purpose, standing out from everything around it.Ā Ā
And, while I didnāt want to admit this, I had to. It was undeniable. Y/n was my chorus. Lavender was my bridge. . . And if y/n was my chorus, it only meant one thing. . .
I loved y/n. And I loved her more than Maya. So much more. An infinite amount. Wrong as it was, it was true. But, to be āfairā, I loved her more than Iād ever loved anyone. Anyone. I loved y/n past the point of life being a song. . . Past death, I would always love y/n ā Iād always love her ā and so fucking much. I hadnāt seen her coming, but the love had been unstoppable ā unavoidable. . . . She was destined to come along and be my chorus.
And with that, I would forever feel this need to protect her and what she wanted held sacred. . . . and in this instance, I also wanted it kept sacred. I watched my fingers flex against the steering wheel, my emotions piling so high. . . I let out several breaths to calm myself. Thought of y/n. What would she want me to say? Honestly, as the light changed, I really thought about it.
In all of what y/n would always be to me. . . the gender of our baby was only a small piece in the grand scheme of things. . . There were so many other things that were more important. Like the baby alone. Lavender, on her own, was only mine and y/nās. She was who was important. Nothing could change that. The same, unchanging fact Iād been sticking to, mentally, since Mayaās dad had confronted me. . .Ā
Goddammit. Everything heād told me. . . . What Maya had finally admitted to me. . . . How she couldnāt have kids. Fuck. She just wanted to experience it. Just this once. She wanted to feel the excitement of the preparation for a baby. And, the gender of a baby was a huge part of that thrill. . . the fun.Ā
Surely y/n would understand all of this, right? If I were to let Maya in to this little part. . . She had been intent on me prioritizing Maya anyway. . . She wouldnāt want Maya to be sad over something that I could just tell her? Right?
As I was finally turning into the complex parking lot, she spoke up again. Her tear-filled voice chipped, once more, at my heart. āL-look. . . Iām sorry, Jake,ā she started, at the same moment that I turned into a visitor parking space. I let out a deep breath through my nose, coming to my decision before I even let myself look into the wet pools of her dark chocolate eyes again. But when I did, my heart broke further. Her full lips, trembling. āIām just excited and Iām ready to start planning for itāthe baby. And Iā.ā
āSheās a girl,ā I hastily cut in, averting my eyes towards the windshield, closing them as I spit it out. Just had to say it. Before I could beat myself up for telling her. Didnāt want to regret that Iād said it. āThe babyāsheās aā sheās a girl.ā
a/n: for one, i apologize for maya's pov. she is, in fact, a hateful ****, as elsie would say. buuut it was necessary. and - ohhhhh, jake...... like, shit, guys.... what's gonna happen next? i mean for the love of all things holy, y/n is upstairs feeling kicks while maya is KEEPING JAKE IN THE PARKING LOT UGH !!!! guys. what. w d y m ???
i love you all !!! ....+ you can ask @joshym + @builtbybrokenbells if you don't believe me....... but, PLEASE BELIEVE ME WHEN I SAY -- chapter 13 is, in fact, JUST AROUND THE CORNER !!!! SEE U SOON <3
AS ALWAYS -- please send in asks, respond to chapters, etc. I PROMISE I SEE THEM AND IT IS THE BEST REWARD FOR THE DAYS, WEEKS, AND MONTHS SPENT WRITING THIS STORY! <333 this story takes up SO MUCH time in my already busy family-filled, work-filled, etc. life, but YOU all make it WORTH IT. So I LOVE to hear from you!!!!! <3 xoxoxo
trying my best to keep up w the Covet Visualizer... you may view it if you'd like. however, you don't NEED TO. i simply am a very visual person, sooo i made it for my fellow visual learners/lovers. the photos i pulled inspo from for y/n's photos in this chapter will be in the visualizer :D !!! (IF YOU DO CHOOSE TO USE IT, PLEASE VIEW IT IN PRINT LAYOUT!! ā esp if youāre using the docs app/are on your phone!!)
I always try to tag everyone, but you all know how it goes! ughhh (taglist will be cont. in reblog !!) Please make sure youāre filling out my Google Form if you would like to be tagged and arenāt already on the taglist! <3