#he just sees it in a different light than jacob
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tamajam · 1 year ago
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sorry to be starfield posting but damn something about sam coe living his life shouldering the pressure of an overwhelming legacy he feels both proud and bitter towards only to beat the cycle of expectations by bringing cora with him to explore the galaxy and giving her the freedom to choose what she wants to do with her life without the weight his father put on him to do the family name right just hits different
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jack-kellys · 4 months ago
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ok so for uk davey to have a costume change in act 2. he needs to look more like racetrack.
i don’t know if this is purposeful in the previous broadway and tour productions, but race’s base in the past has been a plaid-patterned shirt that was either stark in contrast (ryan breslin’s dark on light) or stark in color (ben cook’s blue and green). and bway davey’s is a mix of both with a bright blue, thicker stripe on a white base.
uk davey already has color, but it’s a green, and he and les are alone in this color compared to the rest of the ensemble (besides like. albert for some reason. but i kinda think they fucked that up a bit lmao). the rest are in paler colors made stark only by suspenders, kerchiefs, or caps. they are far more unified. race still sticks out- his cap is actually & interestingly green (at least.. it was for a while), but he also has a red pocket square and a nicer vest and a Pattern. he’s got a blue pin-striped white shirt.
and davey i think. first of all gets a kerchief. i think he might come into world will know with one honestly. and davey i think maybe doesn’t shift patterns—i think les might be more inclined to that—i think he shifts to a color that more unifies him with the newsies. and more with crutchie and race. it’s got to be some kind of paler blue, and since crutchie, jack, and kath have solid colors i think davey still needs to. maybe it’s also a bigger shirt too. enters kony setting his vest on the table & does kony sans vest. yeahg.
for jack i think. i just truly and desperately want him in an undershirt that is paint-RUINED. i think jerjor’s undershirt had like…. two swipes of paint…. and the first time we see jack in act 2 is his most vulnerable. he’s chosen officially to leave town after whatever this is all ends, he’s back to painting santa fe, he believes that he, specifically, failed everyone. i need that undershirt rife with colors and therefore emotion. it needs to be literally on his sleeve ! yk! bc what he says in the wwh(r) scene is mostly delivered stonily, with less emotion. just sort of hopeless. i think it’d also be an interesting visual to go with “you look like hell”, bc if his attire is covered in paint it could mean he’s stayed up the whole night, or was super careless, etc etc. gives More to go on than every-time-without-fail’d underwhelming makeup lmao.
then i think during the pulitzer office mayor/snyder scene he changes back to the red or puts the shirt on over the undershirt…. and then the rally. we know he can’t change clothes bc boy was basically in newsie jail down there. but we DO know that the delanceys further beat him up (they do it during bottom line reprise’s outro upstage if some of u weren’t aware) before tossing him on the ground. so we Know he looks. even fucking worse at the rally. maybe a piece of the undershirt is ripped off and wrapped around the fingers morris steps on. maybe it’s on underneath the red shirt for the first time to hide bruising. maybe the injuries we saw from the strike get quickly worsened while brooklyn’s here plays. there has to be an even further disheveled shift. this kid has been ruined now, not just his attire. not just his facade. his actual self.
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starboye · 3 months ago
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starring: jacob elordi x male reader
request: jacob elordi fucking his boyfriend just rearranging his guts in doggy style and his bfs ass is just bouncing with each thrust and he keeps spanking his juicy ass
warnings: SMUT, stomach bulge, rough sex, overstimulation, creampie, unprotected sex, cursing
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"fuck- jacob slow down" you desperately moan out, putting your hands between him and you trying to stop his thrust but he just grabs your wrist and pins them above your head, pushing them into the bed as his grunts get louder and louder "im sorry baby but i can't you feel so fuckin' good" jacob groans leaning down to kiss you as a sort of apology for going so hard.
but it's not his fault just seeing you in those shorts really got him going and there's no stopping him once he makes up his mind that he's gonna fuck you and you knew that all to well from the multiple times before that this has happend but now it felt different and even harder.
his large hands wrapped around your thighs holding your legs apart as he fucked you into the bed, your moans were like words of encouragement pushing him to pound you harder and harder, ut with that you were slowly losing your mind as you turned to mush under him "ngh please jacob just 5 minutes" you try to plea with him but it falls upon deaf ears as jacob brings your legs into his arms.
pulling them into his chest tightly to make you even tighter and get a good look at your face, your tear soaked and wrecked face that's begging him to take a break but his hips wont listen, he continues fucking you on and on until you're a babbling bitch under him for his cock, not being able to conjur a single thought in your mind other than letting out whimpers and moans.
"just one more time i promise then im done" he was apologizing again and again but his hips told a different story as it kept abusing your ass, he may have thought it was the last time but then he'll go another and another and another till the sun is beaming in through the curtains the next morning.
"please finish jac...." your eyes were rolling to the back of your head at this point as you struggled to stay awake after the hours of fucking, your ass bouncing with each thrust into your hole and your stomach bulging out as jacob stretched you out like a flesh light, which is almost what you were reduced to with the amount of cum flowing from your gaping hole after he finally took control of himself and pulled out after the 8th or 7th load.
and seeing you fucked and knocked out made him feel especially bad once coming to the realization it was him who did this, waking you up the next morning with breakfast in bed and kisses as if he didn't fuck you unconscious last night "and what is this" you asked lifting yourself up to lean on the headboard "an im sorry breakfast" jacob smiled hoping you'd forgive him for his actions "well then i gues i could get past it" you chuckles kissing his cheek.
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taglist:@mailmango@spermeboy@ghostking4m@gayaristocrat@addictedtomalepits@staarb0y@crispysoup318@its-ares@gargoylesworld09@kadenvatsune@fuckshft
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happy74827 · 7 months ago
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Fate’s Design
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[Carlisle Cullen x Female!Reader]
Synopsis: Not even fate can stop forbidden love. {GIF Credits: Pinterest}
WC: 2051
Category: Angst (with a side of fluff)
Can you tell I rewatched Twilight? 👀 Edward? Jacob? Nah, I’m team Carlisle all the way.
In all seriousness, this took me so long to write out since I’m in that stage of life where there’s no free time 😭
But, regardless, here’s a fic that no one asked for (and hopefully won’t mind 👀). So, uh… enjoy :)
『••✎••』
Funny, how the world works, how fate works.
The day you had first laid eyes on him, you could tell immediately there was something different about him, something... strange. Stranger than strange.
A simple hospital visit, a clumsy fall down the stairs, and here you were, stuck in a place of healing with the smell of antiseptics and disinfectant all around you. For a simple wrist sprang, being around deathly ill people who had no sense of common courtesy was the last thing you wanted to experience.
Still, it couldn't be helped, and so you endured. Endured until that one fateful encounter.
When the nurses brought him into the room, you couldn't help but stare. A young, handsome man who looked barely a few years older than you, pale, cold skin that reminded you of the snowy tundras, and bright eyes you swore turned gold in the light.
Strange, yes. Very strange. But a very good kind of strange, the kind of strange that was captivating.
Carlisle Cullen.
You couldn't help but smile as you thought of the name, as the memories came back to you. The first meeting, the second, and then the third. You remembered all of them, every single one, and the way your heart fluttered like a caged bird each time, wanting to break free.
How long had it been since that first meeting? Five months? Six?
You couldn't be sure, but it was enough.
Enough for you to know that you loved him.
How funny, how ironic, how cruel fate was, giving you someone to love and then making it impossible to be with him.
You were just an average girl with average interests and average talents who had a boring, average job that didn't pay much and was living an average life.
But you were human; he was not.
You were a creature that could live, grow, age, and eventually die while he was frozen in time, a beautiful, timeless statue with an old soul that lived a hundred years in the span of one.
You knew this, he knew this, and that was what held you both back.
Even though you loved him, even though when he looked at you, his eyes burned with the same emotions you felt, the two of you were still unable to come together.
You would’ve given up had it not been for your own stubbornness, your own will to hold on, to see this through to the end.
He was worth it, and you knew it.
And so, you decided it didn’t matter if your time with him would be short because you would spend it happily, without regret.
After all, a few months spent with him was better than none at all.
You found yourself storming into the hospital, pure determination set on your face as you went up to the reception desk and demanded to know where Carlisle Cullen was.
The nurse gave you an odd look but didn’t question you further, and after giving her the information she needed, she directed you to his office.
You were assured he was filing papers, so you didn’t bother with knocking. Instead, you barged in with the burning desire to make your mark, to make your presence known, to show him, without any doubt, how you felt.
You didn't care if he was startled by your sudden entrance, and as you approached him, he stood up, surprise written on his face.
"I’m done, Carlisle," you said, your tone final, a declaration. "I’m so done."
He tilted his head in confusion.
Your hands came to a fist as you rested them against his desk, eyes narrowed and burning.
"I'm done holding back," you said, voice steady. "If you don’t kiss me right now, I'll never forgive you."
Your name came out as a soft sigh from his lips, and you couldn’t stop the shudder that ran through you at the sound of it. The mellow, gentle tone that held your entire being was always catching you off guard, even after all this time.
It wasn’t fair; it really wasn't.
"Kiss me, goddamnit!" You yelled at him, the demand clear in your tone.
And, like always, he denied you. In fact, he practically told you to shut up in his own way by bringing attention that you were still… quite literally, in the hospital.
You didn’t care. It was obvious by the way you kept going at him, demanding he take action.
And then, a gush of wind.
Your eyes widened, and before you could utter a word, the door from behind slammed shut. Not enough to create a loud bang, but enough to get your attention, and when you looked over, his arm was extended out, hand resting on the door.
Just inches away from your head.
Your heart skipped a beat as you looked up at him.
He was towering over you completely, and the proximity made your breathing hitch. His gaze was intense and golden, and it burned right through you like it always did. But you weren’t scared, not even the slightest bit.
This was what you wanted, after all.
So you kept silent and waited for him to make the first move. Any move, really.
A few seconds passed, and then, ever so slowly, he lowered his head. But he didn't lean down far enough, no. Instead, his face inched closer and closer to yours until, finally, all you could see were his eyes.
And all you could think about was his lips.
"As much as I want to," he began, voice soft and smooth. "You and I both know it's not that easy."
"Yes, it is," you retorted, stubborn. "You're just making it hard."
"I'm being realistic."
"Realistic? Really?" Your face twisted into a scowl. "Says the man who's not even human."
"That's precisely why," he said. "You’re…"
His voice quivered, just slight enough to be noticeable. It made your heart ache, and you were ready to interrupt him, to say that it didn’t matter; nothing else did.
But you stopped yourself.
It was only right to hear what he had to say.
"You truly wish to want… this? To give up the happiness of your future, the family you deserve, to be drowned in sorrow, all for me?"
His words were sincere, his voice quiet, and the expression on his face was one you could barely comprehend.
"Drowned…? Drowned?!" You echoed his words; brows knitted in a deep frown. "Carlisle, I'm already drowning! Right now!"
You paused, trying to calm yourself, but you could feel tears prickling your eyes. This wasn’t how you had imagined it going.
"It hurts," you confessed, voice low. "It hurts me that you don’t understand, that you think so little of yourself."
Carlisle's breath caught, and his lips parted in surprise, but you weren’t finished yet.
"It hurts me that you think I could ever be happy without you," you continued, your voice rising a bit. “Carlisle, I have found happiness in you. I am happy with you. The day we met, I was a wreck; my wrist was a wreck… everything was a wreck. But then you came, and now, now I'm happy. You make me happy."
The look on his face was unreadable, but it didn’t deter you from speaking your mind.
"Why can’t you see that? Why can’t you see that you’ll always be twice the man than any other human being out there?"
Silence.
He didn’t answer, and the longer the silence stretched, the more your heart hurt. Carlisle was a good man; he was. He was a good doctor, a good father, and, of course, a good-looking guy.
He deserved the world.
And if the world couldn't give it to him, you would.
"If you can't see it, then fine," you finally spoke, and it was almost a whisper. "Then I'll do it for you. I'll tell you every day. I'll keep telling you until it sticks."
The corners of your mouth tugged upwards into a shaky smile.
"Even if I have to keep yelling at you."
He exhaled, and suddenly, he looked much more relaxed, and you realized that you had gotten through to him.
It made the tears that were gathering in your eyes spill over.
"At least I know you wouldn’t toss me aside when my personality eventually overpowers my looks," you mumbled, laughing.
"Toss you aside?"
There was a sudden, sharp edge to his tone, and when his hand came to rest under your chin, gently, carefully, your eyes shot up, staring into his own.
You didn't realize it, but the way you looked at him, the expression on your face, it made him see something different, something he never expected.
A woman who loved him. Truly, sincerely, deeply, and completely.
He couldn’t believe it, and yet, you were right there, in front of him, your eyes shining and reflecting nothing but adoration and admiration.
Your eyes were shining, but not with sadness, no, not anymore.
It was a beautiful sight, one he would remember for all of eternity.
"I'd be a fool to do that," he whispered, his tone sincere, and when his other hand came up, his fingers brushing over your cheek, a featherlight touch, he could hear your breath catch.
"A complete and utter fool."
You watched the smile grow on his lips, and it was so beautiful, it was unreal.
But this, the feeling of his hand on your skin, the coldness contrasted by the warmth of your own body, the gentleness of his touch, it was surreal.
"Carlisle," you murmured, and he was still staring at you, but there was a new intensity in his gaze. "Let me give you the happiness you deserve. Let me."
You took a small step forward, and his hand was still resting under your chin. You didn't dare move or speak again, not until you could read his face, the expression on his features.
It was difficult, however, and just when you thought he wouldn't say anything, he spoke.
"I can't guarantee the future or the happiness," he admitted. "Not for myself, and not for you, but-"
"But?" You couldn’t help but smirk.
"I can try," he answered. "For your sake, I'll try."
You should’ve expected the response after that, the speed at which his hand moved from your cheek to the back of your neck, pulling you forward, and his other hand, moving downwards to rest on the small of your back.
You should've, but you didn't.
All you could do was stare at him, your eyes widening, and just when you opened your mouth to speak, to say something, anything, his lips were on yours, and all the coherent thoughts left you.
You could hear the thumping of your heart, loud, thundering, and it drowned out all the other sounds around you.
He was gentle and careful, and the kiss was nothing more than a brief, feather-light press of his lips, but it was enough. It was enough to set your whole body on fire, to have you lean in, to have your hands come up, grasping onto his lab coat for dear life.
You could feel the coldness of his skin, but the taste of his lips was indescribable.
He tasted sweet, like vanilla, and the longer his lips were on yours, the more the flavor lingered until you couldn’t remember how your own lips had ever tasted.
When he finally pulled away, it was as if the world was spinning and all the strength left your body.
"We're not in the clear just yet," he murmured, his gaze still intense, and it sent a shiver down your spine. "There are many things we have to talk about and many things to work out, but-"
"Carlisle," you breathed out, your grip on his coat tightening. "Don’t talk. Just relish."
You leaned forward, and he did the same, his eyes fluttering shut, and as your lips connected with his, your mind was filled with a single thought.
This.
This was right.
It was perfect, and the world was a better place.
The funny thing about fate is that if two people are meant to be, no matter the time, the place, or the circumstances, they'll find each other.
The two of you were living proof.
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messenger-of-babel · 3 months ago
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Partners to Be
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Summary: After being out of the field so long, you've been assigned to help Leon rescue the presidents daughter, but who really helps who? (Leon S. Kennedy x reader)
Word Count: 3.4K
Notes: WHERE ARE THE LEON GIRLIES AT? So writing this one I just kept going and going and got a little carried away but it's my first Leon appearance for this month! (he has other fics stored away in drafts). I hope that everyone's enjoyed our first two weeks! halfway there already. It's crazy that it took me this long to put Leon out on the list, so sorry for holding out on y'all. If anyone needs warnings: Swearing, mentions of veins/ blood. I think this is the longest fic I've put up so far so that's pretty wild (as I said, I got carried away but in my defence I was convinced I was cooking).
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Leon Kennedy was a strong man; dare you say the strongest man you'd ever known.
So strong in fact that they had sent him alone to scout for the president’s daughter, being dispatched to a remote area in Spain. As soon as he sent back the sign that she was there, you were flown in almost immediately to assist with getting her back safely.
Your hands had jittered gearing up to meet him, double checking your shoulder holsters to make sure they didn't slip and lead you to an embarrassing death. You hadn't ever worked with agent Kennedy before, but you had seen him around the halls of the DSO, imposing as the legends made him out to be.
The most you had even spoken to him was a casual greeting or a small 'you're welcome' when he thanked you for holding a door open. You were part of a different division, leading to you hardly seeing him around. Not to mention the fact that the man avoided the headquarters like the plague, eyes tired and mouth drawn into a thin line any time he was required to go in.
Now you were strapping up, armed to the teeth to help out the Golden agent on your first field mission in a year. When you finally arrived, you met him a little past the windmill that Hunnigan guided you to, and it had been so much worse than you thought.
Arriving, you had encountered a town square filled with dead bodies, faces warped and bubbled. If the fresh blood hadn't been there, you would have been convinced that they'd died a long time ago. You followed the carnage to the windmill, spotting your partner-to-be hidden off the path and hurrying over to him. "Agent Kennedy," you greet politely, slightly out of breath. "What's happened here? What's wrong with the villagers?"
Your blood freezes in your veins as he looks at you with those icy blue eyes, mouth pressed into a thin line. He draws his gun faster than you can blink, the barrel coming close than you'd like to your face before releasing a loud BANG. you flinch from the loud sound, and for a second you thought he had tried to kill you. Whirling around you see a villager writing on the road, axe in hand. Wordlessly he pushes past you, kneeling over the body and driving his knife into the side of the villager’s neck. The gurgles and scream die down with the writing, until the villager goes still.
You feel a light tremor in your hands at the efficient way he just disposed of someone, his face turning to meet your gaze. "They're not villagers, not anymore." he says, cleaning the blood from his knife in the crook of his elbow. "You're cleared to shoot to kill. They'll attack you the moment they see you."
You just nod, double checking that safety was off on your own handgun. He regards you for a silent moment, eyebrows scrunched up in confusion. "You're from division four, aren't you?" he asks curiously. "On Jacobs's team."
You wince at the name of your old field captain. "Yeah, I was. I got reassigned as a solo agent last year." you say bitterly, something not unnoticed by him.
"Shouldn't they have kept you on that team? I saw that Jacobs wasn't there anymore, but just because he got re-assigned it doesn't make sense to just discard an entire recon squad."
You follow after him as he begins walking further down the path, tilting his head to gesture for you to follow.
"Yeah, I mean, Jacobs is dead, so…" you say awkwardly, fiddling with your holster. He turns at that, eyes widening slightly.
"Jacobs is dead?" he parrots back to you, incredulous. "Shit…I'm sorry, I didn't realise. I just knew I hadn't heard of him recently. I didn't realise that Jacobs of all people was really gone."
You nod along, kicking rocks with your boot. "Yeah, surprised everyone." you say softly, thinking of your hard ass captain who managed to weasel his way out of death more times than a cockroach.
"What about the rest of your team? Did they also turn to being a solo agent?" He looks down at you with a curious expression. Your face scrunches up, and he catches the flicker of pain that skirts the edges of your lips.
"They're dead." you say, breaking away from his gaze and quickening your pace.
"I'm sorry." he says gruffly, albeit a little awkwardly. "It happens a lot in this line of work, still doesn't make it any better."
You nod along, heart heavy despite his rough attempt at soothing the sting. You walk a little more, feeling the unsaid question hanging in the air. you know he wants to ask, but the glimmer in his eyes when you catch his gaze tells you that he doesn't want to pry.
"It was my fault, you know." you say softly, sighing out.
"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, I know we all have-" he starts, but you cut him off by raising your hand.
"It's fine. It's been a year, I'm over it now." you mumble. "Besides, it'll be good to clear the air." you exhale, and your shoulders drop, his eyes holding a curiosity you know he feels guilty for even having. "We received intel about a terrorist attack, tracked them down to their hideout. I was tasked with disarming the bomb remotely while they took down the rest of the organisation so none of them could make a runner." you say, memory vivid in your mind. "They…they managed to re-trace my signal, someone on their side, I mean. Completely shut me off and cut my communication access. I couldn't disarm the bomb, and I couldn't tell my team." you breathe out, and the action is shakier than you'd like. "I watched it happen. I couldn't do anything, and it's all because I accidentally raised an alarm on their side."
He doesn't say much, face blank and devoid of emotion for a full moment. "It wasn't your fault." he says finally, giving you a once over. "Like I said before, we lose people all the time in this job, it’s a part of the job description. A real shitty part if you ask me." he laughs out bitterly, checking his handgun as he comes to a stop at a rickety bridge in front of you. "I'm sorry for your loss, but you need to get back into the field. Not that you have much choice, you're here now. Don't forget them but leave them at the door." He says, a rough hand coming up to grip your shoulder.
His words are like a cold shock of water, slapping you in the face. Everyone else had been coddling you since their deaths, giving you easier assignments and pitying amounts of paperwork. In contrast, Leon was showing you a tough love that everyone else had been hesitant to deliver. He tilts his head to the bridge. "When you cross that bridge, leave them on this side." he says firmly. "Distractions will get us killed, and your team wouldn't want you to die for it, not like that. Besides," he shrugs, offering you a small smile. "I need a partner to get this done, not a space cadet."
The small joke makes a smile creep onto your lips. "Thanks, Agent Kennedy." you say genuinely, lifting your chin just a fraction higher. He shakes his head, soft blonde hair falling in front of his eyes. "No need. and call me Leon." he says, stepping onto the flimsy bridge and beginning to cross. 'Leon' you say under your breath, feeling how his name sounds on your tongue. You take a deep breath, steeling your nerves and saying a quiet prayer for your teammates before your boot makes contact with the flimsy wood.
He was right. You were back in the field, and you weren't going to let any partner or team of yours get hurt like that again. That was your personal mission.
You learnt while going to rescue Ashley that he was a lot different from what the other agents made him out to be. He was considered a knight in shining armour, a golden agent who was unbeatable in everything he did while adding charismatic flair on the top. You soon realised that he was begrudging at best for a knight, and the charisma came out of dry sarcasm and witty quips. he wasn't an agent who did it for crown and country, he was an agent who did it because he had no other choice, and doing the job meant he could get home quicker. You couldn't deny that he was unstoppable though.
No matter what monstrosity you came up against, your new partner didn't so much as flinch, taking each enemy out with lethal precision. His attitude began wearing off on you and slowly you remembered what it was like to be in the field, instincts sharpening and panicked breathing slowing to a steady intake.
"You're not a bad shot," he said to you after you handed back the stingray he let you borrow, taking off some guards on the castle battlements before you had to pass through the area. You felt yourself flush slightly, not from the words, but the genuine tone he used. Despite only just formally meeting, you found conversation flowing easily between you two, natural and unhindered. You had to attribute some of that to your surroundings, seeing as neither of you really had any other choice of company. Not any company that wanted you alive anyways.
Everything had gone well, going a lot smoother than any of your other missions before. You think it started going sideways as soon as you lost Ashley in the ballroom, being forced to scurry in the underground of the castle. The little pet of Ramone had chased you both through the tunnels, the Right Hand of Salazar managing to get a good hit on your side before Leon froze it, albeit temporarily. Hauling your arm over his shoulder he pulled you to the elevator and started it up, leaving the beast behind. He investigated the wound that was now burning and turning black at the edges.
"We need to see if it's infected-"
Both of your wince and reach for your head at the same time, a ringing filling your ears and a throbbing starting in your skull. Then the image of the man, the thing that started all of this, filled your mind’s eye. Saddler preached to both you and Leon, but unfortunately it was like radio static, your connection not strong enough to be controlled fully. When it releases you both let out a gasp, your eyes meeting his blue ones.
"I think it's infected." you say dryly, and he rolls his eyes. However, his lips tick up slightly.
Maybe he really was rubbing off on you.
Then you lost Luis.
Leon patted your shoulder when Luis passed, seeing the crinkle of your nose as you closed his eyes and placed his hands peacefully in his lap. Leon didn't need to ask to see that you were reliving the way you lost your team. So much for not losing anyone this mission,' you scold yourself bitterly, you and Leon moving on and leaving your friend behind to his eternal rest. You didn’t need to ask if he was upset either. you saw it in the way he fought Krauser, muscles tensed and jaw clenched as he took down his old mentor. You placed the hand on the shoulder for him then, and he covered it with his own gloved one before squeezing lightly. He dropped it a moment after, and you both continued.
There was a mission after all.
Now this was the final nail in the coffin. You had retrieved Ashley, keeping her between the both of you to protect her from all sides. Your chest burnt, ugly scar sitting in the middle if your chest from having to burn out the plagas. It had developed quickly, the sliver that wormed it way into your skin during your fight with the Verdigo spawning into an ugly juvenile parasite. Luis had saved the both of you even after death, and you could see the light at the end of the tunnel for this hellscape of a mission. That is of course, until you saw him.
He had been pulling up the rear, but Ashley tugging on your arm made you stop and turn. Leon had slowed, hand to his head and cringing badly. Your heart fills with fear, and you race to him, pulse thudding in your ears. "Hey, you with me, Kennedy?" you ask, shaking him lightly to try to snap him out of it. He only groans in pain, knees buckling as he falls. Crouching immediately, you lift his face up to meet his eyes, and you freeze. Black veins are mapped across the expanse of his face, tendrils trying to strangle the blue of his irises. They continue a path down his neck in thick black streaks, wrapping around his arms like strings. His forearms struggled with the effort to keep himself upright.
"Is he going to be okay?"
You turn, hearing Ashley's worried voice. you give her a tight-lipped smile and a curt nod. "He's going to be." your murmur.
"Come on, Leon." you urge. "we're almost there, we're almost home."
He lets out a shaky breath, coughing violently and hands curling into fists as he doubles over. One of his closed fists grab your hands, bringing it down with him. The cement is cold but his fingers are warm, and when he squeezes your hand tight in a few rhythmic pulses, you know what he's saying.
It makes your heart stop.
"Ashley, go just ahead, around that corner." you instruct, gesturing with your head for her to continue to the end of the hall you were all heading towards.
"What about-"
"Just go." you snap, and the waver in your voice is evident. She nods fearfully, casting one last glance at you both before turning and hurrying off.
"Talk to me, Kennedy." you say, squeezing his hand back. "Do we need to get you back in the chair? Is it still in there?" you ask, trying to keep your voice level but get the information you need out of him. He shakes his head.
"No time." he breathes out, body relaxing as he struggles to sit up and lean back on his legs. With your help you manage to get him upright again, his skin hot and veins writhing under his skin. You support him to standing, but he brushes you off with a stumble.
"He…He's in my head." he grits out. "There's lots…there's noises…sounds. This isn't me." he gasps out, struggling to keep his breathing even.
"What can I do?" you ask, voice tinged with desperateness, hands beginning to shake. "Leon, we got to get you home. We're gonna go home." you stress to him, voice beginning to choke up. He stands tall, straightening himself out. "We don't have much time." he grits through his teeth. "I need you to do something for me."
"Anything." is your automatic response, taking a step forward to catch him if he falls agian. He gives you a sad smile before reaching for something on his belt, eyes never leaving yours as he offers it out to you.
"No." you say firmly, trying hard to control your racing mind and brimming tears. "No. I'm not doing that." you choke out.
"You've gotta." he says, voice quiet. "Take it." he shakes it in front of you and the tears finally drip forth as you look down properly at the smooth handle of the gun. "The mission is to get Ashley out, that's your first priority." he says.
'Not my mission,' you want to say, but your throat closes up. "You mean our first priority." you force out." No. I won't do that. I can't do that. Not again." your voice cracks and you clamp a hand over your mouth to try and keep the sound in. His eyes soften and he reaches out to gently grip your wrist and pull you forward. you can see how badly he's fighting it, the shake in his hands and the tension in his muscles while a war rages in his mind.
"If not for Ashley and the mission, then for me." he forces out. "Please. I don't want to be one of them, and if I turn, I will hurt you. Saddler will make me, and you know that." he says firmly, shaking your wrist. A tear rolls down the tip of your nose as you reach out with your free hand to grip the handle of the gun, grip smooth under your palms.
"I'm not like your team," he says, staring directly into your eyes. You can see the kaleidoscope in his own, morphing from fear to guilt to panic and finally determination. "I want this. I'm asking you to do this for me." He murmurs, tone softer. He sighs out, a ragged sound and his eyes flutter shut as the veins in his neck flare.
"Please," he grits out. "If anyone is going to do it, I want it to be you. Only you." he breathes out, a small smile pulling at his lips. "You're my partner, after all."
You try to give a grin in return, heart leaping and tearing itself apart at being called his partner. You take a step back, hands trembling as you cock the gun. "What a day at the DSO that will be," you say, voice shaky and tears spilling over the apple of your cheeks. "Golden boy Kennedy actually accepting a partner request."
Your smile shakes violently as he lowers himself to his knees, blue eyes looking up at you. The eyes that always seemed so tired, now shimmering with the yearning to go to sleep. To go to peace.  "There's a first time for everything." he quips back softly. "You can do the paperwork though."
You try to make the sound to laugh, but the thickness in your chest and throat strangles the sound before it could leave. You raise the gun to his forehead, barrel smooth against his skin, cool metal brushing some of the icy gold strands to the side.
"Goodnight, Leon." you say, voice wispy. Despite the ache that had settled in your chest and stung your bones, you put as much warmth, love and kindness you could into your last words to your coworker. Hoping he can sense the longing and hope for all the missions you could have gone on together, the quiet nights at the bar. You manage a shaky smile for the man in front of you, mourning the memory of your future.
The partner you never got to have.
"See you in the morning." he replies quietly, a small smile flitting over his face as he closes his eyes and lets go. The veins and plagas in his body wriggles in glee for a full moment when he stops resisting, before being silenced by a single, crisp, gunshot.
Bang.
When you open your eyes, you bring your arm to your mouth so you don't throw up in horror, ears still echoing the sound of the shot over and over. Your hand grows limp but still steady on the gun, part of you still in disbelief you had the courage to pull the trigger. You look at the gun in your trembling hand, thumb running over the 'L.S.K' engraved on the grip. You don't cast your eyes down, you can't. You know that if you do, you'll never unsee it as long as you live. Marching on your heel before you make a mistake, you suck in a gasp of air to try and control your sobs.
You grab Ashley's arm roughly as you pass her in the hall, her eyes fearful and panicked. "Hey!" she protests. "What about Leon-"
"Leon's dead." you hiss out, wiping your eyes with your sleeve as she wrenches from your grip. You look down, lips pursed and a hot despair coursing through your veins. With shaky hands you reload the gun, gripping it so tight your knuckles press uncomfortably against the skin.
Leon was dead, and if you had a say in anything, that Saddler fucker was about to be too.
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trippinsorrows · 11 days ago
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dreamland: office visits
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later that day...
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Moving around with a four month-old and two two year-olds is a bit of a challenge. Far from impossible but far from easy. Partially due to the fact that Solana hasn’t really taken her baby boy out much since he was born. Roman’s preference. Her husband not wanting to risk their son catching anything given his still weakened immune system. And, she was okay with that. Okay with mostly staying at home as she finished out the semester, aided by the help of her husband who’s worked from home the past few months so that it wouldn’t all be on her.
Again, very much appreciated. His assistance and hands-on approach with all the kids truly makes the biggest difference to and for her. 
It’s why she makes the minor sacrifice to gather up the kids to go see him at his office. Largely due to Lina and Leya who have somehow learned that when that tiny contact photo of Roman is on her screen, that means they’re talking. And God forbid these girls go too long without some type of interaction with their father.
Solana can count on both hands and feet just a few of the times she’s had to call Roman so he could speak with their twins or even just let them hear his voice just to get them down for a nap or because they wouldn’t settle down unless they could talk to daddy. 
It makes her smile though, because as stressful as it can be at points, she doesn’t mind it. Doesn’t mind it one bit. She loves how attached the girls are to Roman. He deserves it. Especially with how much he struggled to feel worthy of them during her pregnancy and their first few weeks of life.
“Daddy!”
Lina’s happy exclamation alerts Solana that they’ve in fact pulled up to Bloodline Headquarters, a massive building both her girls recognize like the back of their hand.
Something tells her Tama will be the same. 
It’s another process, getting all three kids out of their carseats and especially Tama into his baby wrap, a process largely aided by an observant Jacob who makes sure the girls don’t try to run off. More Lina than anything. She definitely inherited her daddy’s lack of patience, especially when it comes to seeing him.
It’s almost like waiting is impossible for her.
Thankfully, it’s a trait not shared by her sister, granted, Solana can clearly see the influence of one sister on the other. Even now as she follows behind the girls, Jacob in front of them, into the building. A small smile on her face when she sees Lina stop and look back at Leya who’s lagging somewhat. “Leya, come!” A shout that’s cloaked in love and concern, Lina taking Leya’s hand so they can walk in synch together. 
The smile deepens. 
Solana loves their relationship with their dad, but it’s got nothing on their relationship with one another.
Kissing the top of a quiet Tama’s head, she murmurs, “you’ve got awesome big sisters, baby boy.”
He truly does. 
The elevator ride consists of the girls talking to each other (more Lina talking to a mostly quiet Leya), occasionally to her, their topics all over the place and easily guided by the random things they notice in the elevator. Buttons. Lights. An emergency phone. They’re both extremely attentive. 
But, it’s as soon as they reach thee floor, the bell dinging, the doors opening, Lina grabs Leya’s hand again and guides her out the elevator. More running than anything. As much as their little legs allow them to run. 
As always, Jacob doesn’t let too much distance get between him and the girls as they move over to Alicia’s desk, Lina being the first to shout, “daddy!”
Alicia smiles and laughs. “Well, hello there, Ms. Lina and Leya.” She stands up, gasping in awe. “Look at your adorable outfits!” Her gaze shifts to Solana, complimenting, “you always dress them so nicely.”
Appreciated, kind words. “Thank you so much.” Solana alternates between dressing them in matching items and letting their outfits reflect their different personalities, and today just so happens to be a differing looks day. And even Solana can admit that her girls look absolutely adorable in their little dresses and accessories. 
Leya’s smile is bashful. Lina’s smile is loud and bright. Hand behind Tama’s head, Solana reminds, “what do you say?”
Lina says it for both of them, Leya remaining her quiet self. “Thank you!”
“You’re very welcome,” she giggles, standing up, most likely to alert Roman of their arrival. “I’ll let him know—”
“Run!”
Lina’s exclamation is followed by her, still holding Leya’s hand, rushing the two over to the double set of doors they know belong to their favorite person in the whole wide world. 
“Girls,” Solana’s attempt to gather them back by her is truly in vain. Walking over after quietly motioning for Jacob to wait near the elevators, she watches Catalina reach up on the tips of her little toes to pull on the handle. Leya, the forever cheerleader, happily bounces, rooting her sister on in their collaborative determination to not be defeated by some door.
Shaking her head, Solana walks over, ready to help them out when someone beats them to it. 
The man himself, her handsome husband, opening and immediately looking down.
“Daddy!” 
Shared excitement as they both throw themselves against his legs, instantly deciding that’s not good enough, two sets of arms lifted and stretched with one request in mind.
Roman’s smile is small and contained, but Solana can see through it. Can see through the front he’s trying to manage, can see his happiness at seeing his girls. It’s felt as he lifts them up, one in each arm. 
Solana giggles. “Told you they were excited to see you.” Roman’s gaze is briefly on her and then a still quiet Tama. “Him. Not so much.”
Roman chuckles, stepping aside and allowing her to enter. She closes the door behind her and naturally moves over to the sofa, placing the diaper bag on the floor beside her.
Going to unwrap Tama so she can hold him and allow Roman a chance to do so as well, the sound of the twins talking incessantly to their best friend fills the room.
Roman always seems to be just the cure for Leya's silence.
“Daddy, play!”
“You want me to play?” He feeds into it, Solana looking over just in time to see him take in their outfits. “Mommy dressed you both very pretty today.”
Leya’s response is to blush and bury her face into his shoulder. Lina, however, beams and points in her direction. “Mommy pretty!”
Roman chuckles. “Mommy is very pretty.” Solana chews on her bottom lip, laying Tama over her shoulder. “But, so are you two.”
The girls giggling accompany Solana standing up and walking over, gently rubbing Tama’s back. “Girls, let daddy hold your brother for a couple minutes.”
Expected shared scowls that are whipped away by Roman saying something to them in Samoan. Lina is the first to wiggle out of his grasp followed by Leya. Solana shakes her head, carefully handing a still pleasantly quiet Tama to her husband. 
“Hi, baby,” Solana finally greets, leaning up to kiss her husband on her cheek. She waits for Roman to adjust their son before commenting, half joking, half serious. “Maybe he’ll stay quiet like this when he gets to be their age.”
Roman rolls his eyes. “Not with Lina for a big sister.” He then asks, assessing her. “How you feeling?”
“I’m good,” she answers, honestly. “Never a dull moment with—Lina!” Solana is interrupted by noticing her two year-old daughter standing up in Roman’s chair, using the table to force herself to spin around. “Catalina, get down right now!”
Roman also makes sure to support Tama’s head as he turns to see what his wife was looking at that prompted her to switch to Spanish. He back hers up, ordering, “Lina, get down now.” 
And to be fair, their energetic little girl follows the request of both her parents. She just does it in a very Catalina Reigns way.
Waiting until she’s at a semi stop, Solana can only open her mouth to yell 'no' when Lina bends her knees and jumps off the chair, falling down and rolling onto the ground.
“Lina!” 
Solana overhears Roman curse as the parents move over to their daughter, along with Leya who yelled out, “sissy!”
But while Solana is concerned, Roman stressed, and Leya nervous, Lina is laughing her head off as Solana kneels to the ground and helps her sit up.
“Catalina, are you okay, baby?” Solana has her hands all over her daughter, feeling for any sort of knots or sensitive areas, only for her daredevil child to continue laughing, now recruiting her sister in the laughter.
She nods happily, Leya reaching over to hug her “big” sister, as Lina yells, “again!”
“Lina,” Roman’s deep voice shifts into something stern and authoritative. “No.”
Her pout is expected as is the way she takes Leya’s hand, standing up and racing over to the sofa, the sisters giggling together for reasons Solana doesn’t quite understand but doesn’t question either.
A sister thing.
Blowing out a deep breath, Solana stands up, sharing a look with her husband.
"I'll order the gates the minute we get home."
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maxinesgun · 4 months ago
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Can you write about reader comforting Jacob
nothing but time ୧⋆ ˚。⋆
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pairing: jacob custos x f!reader
summary: you and jacob are hiding away together in one of the cabins after everything has gone to hell. an admission of what really happened to the van leads to an inadvertent confession of his feelings for you.
cw: hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, jacob pining, mentions of blood, swearing, tending to jacob's injury, first kiss, a bit of angst, reader makes him nervousss (2.7k)
a/n: i thought this prompt paired well with an idea i already had, so i decided to combine them. hope you like! also i did not mean for it to turn out this long lol
“Fuck. Shit. Fuck.” 
Needless to say, you were not great with blood.
And there was a lot of it.
Jacob released a long, slow breath through clenched teeth as he lowered himself down onto the bunk bed, taking care not to rest any weight on his injured leg. His brows were furrowed and all the hard lines of his body were tensed in pain, but he was handling this remarkably well, considering. You’d think you were the one who had stepped in a bear trap.
You were trying your best to think about what a rational person would do in this situation—not that the situation you were currently in was in any way normal. What did one do when being hunted by werewolves at a closed-down summer camp with no way to escape or call for help? You shook your head, determining that going down that road would send you into full-blown panic mode. Instead, you narrowed it down: What did one do when one’s friend had stepped in a bear trap?
“Bandages,” you said firmly, more to give yourself a clear goal to focus on than anything. “Okay, yes. I think there’s a first aid kit in here somewhere.” You felt Jacob’s gaze on you as you began kneeling down to grope blindly under each of the bunk beds. You guessed you must have looked somewhat frantic, judging by the way he was looking at you as if you’d just started speaking a different language.
“Okay, I’m getting the sense that you’re really freaked out right now, but really, I’m fine. It’s not that bad. Look, I can still bend my—ah, shit.”
“You’re sitting there with a bloody stump for a foot and you’re telling me not to freak out?” you scoffed as you ducked to peer under one of the last beds, practically pressing yourself to the floor. It was dark in here, and you tried not to think about all of the mouse droppings and spiderwebs your arm was probably brushing against. Right now, that was the absolute least of your worries. Eventually your hand knocked against something solid, and a rush of relief washed over you as you pulled out the small first aid kit. “Got it.”
“Hey, come on. I know it looks bad, but I still have a foot.” You could tell he was making an effort to sound like his usual self, light and joking, but his voice was strained, his breathing a bit heavy.
“Pretty soon you won’t, if it gets infected,” you pointed out as you returned to the bed he was on and crouched down in front of him with the kit, rifling through its contents.
“Okay, not helping.” He watched as you pulled out a roll of bandages and a tiny bottle of rubbing alcohol, a twinge of uncertainty flitting across his features. “You, uh, know what you’re doing with that?”
“No, not really,” you said, grimacing as you examined his ankle. It was caked in drying blood and dirt from when he’d had to race through the forest barefoot. You took a steadying breath, willing yourself to stay cool as you focused on ripping off a small piece of fabric from your already-torn shirt. “It’s not too complicated though, right? Clean the wound, then wrap it up. Easy. I took first aid once when I was like, fourteen.”
Jacob nodded, leaning an arm on the bedpost. He didn’t look too reassured. “Oh, great. See, that makes me feel a lot better.”
You shot him a sharp look, glancing up momentarily from where you were leaning over his leg. You found that his eyes had already been on you, and you thought you saw something in them soften as his lips quirked into a lopsided grin. “Sorry. Just kidding. You’re who I’d trust most with this kinda thing, anyway.”
“Really? Not Dylan?” you joked, using the bunched-up scrap of fabric to gently wipe around the wound as much as you could. When you placed a hand on his calf to hold him in place, you noticed the way he stiffened, went completely still, but you attributed it to him trying to brace against the pain.
He huffed a laugh, shaking his head a little. “You know what, scratch that. Definitely Dylan.”
You reached for the rubbing alcohol next, unscrewing it and holding him in place a little more firmly. You tried to keep from wincing at your next words, knowing it was about to hurt like hell. “Okay, now this might sting a bit.”
The bed creaked as he straightened up. “Wait, wait, wait, what are you—”
His words abruptly cut off with a grunt as you poured the alcohol over the wound. “Fuuuck,” he hissed out between clenched teeth, his eyes squeezed shut and his head falling against his chest.
“Sorry. It’s better if you’re not expecting it,” you said apologetically, glancing up at him with a weak half-smile. You set the bottle aside and began unraveling the roll of bandage, determined to work quickly. Who knew how much time you had here to hunker down in safety before one of those things burst through the window?
Jacob’s jaw was tensed, a muscle in it jumping as he let out a long breath, but he nodded, another attempt at nonchalance. “I’m good. Totally good. Barely felt a thing.”
The smile on your lips grew a bit at that as you began wrapping the bandage around his ankle, trying to make sure it was snug but not uncomfortably so. A silence fell in the space between you, and you suddenly became very aware of the strange intimacy of the moment—the fact that you were alone together, touching him so casually, the only light in the dim cabin the moonlight slanting across the floorboards.
You were sure he was watching you, and for some reason you were very determined not to look up as you finished wrapping him up, leaning in to tear the end of the roll off with your teeth. “There, I think you’re fine,” you said, glad to fill the silence. “It’s probably not the best, but…”
“Thanks,” he said quietly, and it sounded so sincere that your heart squeezed in your chest. He groaned as he looked down at his leg. “God, I’m screwed, aren’t I?” 
“Just be glad it was your foot and not that handsome face of yours. How would you get all the girls?” you grinned, attempting to lighten the mood as you tied the bandage off tightly. Your slightly shaky fingers made it a bit difficult, but you managed. 
You heard him breathe a laugh, but it sounded half-hearted, and when you glanced up at him, his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah. Right.” 
His eyes lingered on you for a few seconds, an expression in them you couldn’t quite place, and you cleared your throat, brushing off your scuffed jeans as you stood. The feeling in your stomach was one you were familiar with—a twisting, fluttering sensation that only happened when Jacob looked at you a certain way. One that you were used to shoving down, where it couldn’t be examined too closely.
Crossing your arms over your chest, you walked over to the window, hesitantly scanning what was visible of the grounds and the trees of the forest beyond. There was no movement; it was quiet, almost peaceful. In a way, it only made you more anxious. “I don’t know how long we’ll be able to stay in here,” you said, worrying your lip between your teeth. Your mind was racing with what your next move should be. “Maybe we should try to go find Nick and Abi, make sure they’re okay. Do you think they’d be at the lodge?”
A fresh wave of worry washed over you as you thought about your other friends and the fact that you didn’t know where they were right now, if they were safe. Would all of you make it out okay after all of this?
“I don’t—yeah, the lodge. Good idea,” Jacob said from behind you. After a moment you heard him let out a sigh, and you turned back to him. He looked distraught, his faraway gaze focused on the floor in front of him. He didn’t seem to notice you staring at him as he ran a hand through his hair, the movement a bit agitated. “God, I can’t believe…” he trailed off, and he gave a small shake of his head. “This is all my fault.”
The words were muttered, as if meant more for himself than for you. You frowned in confusion, studying his face. You’d never seen him look so serious. “What? What do you mean, your fault?” 
“All of this. It’s only happening because… because of me.” He rubbed a hand over his jaw, seeming to contemplate something, and finally looked up at you. “I messed with the van.”
It took several seconds for you to process what he’d said, the implications dawning on you much slower than they should have. “Jacob…” you started, but you didn’t know what to say. It felt like your thoughts were wading through sludge.
“I messed with the van,” he repeated, the words rushing out of him. “That’s why it won’t start. It was stupid, and I didn’t know all of this shit would happen, but it did, and if anything happens to you, or—or anyone, I…”
Your mouth opened, closed. You stared at him in shock for a long moment, taking in his pleading expression as the previous events of the evening replayed in your head. Of course. It hadn’t made sense that the van had just stopped working all of a sudden. 
You rubbed a hand over your eyes, a slightly hysterical laugh bubbling out of your chest at the sheer absurdity of your current situation. What even was this night? You’d think you were dreaming, if you hadn’t known any better. “What the fuck, Jacob? Why?”
“I just needed—” he let out a breath, looking away from you. “I just needed more time. We’ll be going off to college after this, and it won’t be the same, y'know? I didn’t get a chance to tell you—” he cut himself off, looking frustrated with himself.
You stared at him, your arms dropping to your sides. What was he trying to say? “A chance to tell me what?” you asked uncertainly, swallowing against your dry throat. His eyes met yours for a few beats, and you felt like you could see the unspoken words in them, understood all at once.
To say you hadn’t considered anything more than friendship with Jacob would be an outright lie, and an unconvincing one, at that. Of course you had—you’d formed quite a bond since the very first week of summer, had grown fond of his dumb jokes and the way he teased you constantly, which quickly became a comfortable back-and-forth between you that came so naturally you hadn’t remembered it being any other way. 
And he was attractive, of course. No one could deny that.
“I don’t…” Your voice was faint even to your own ears, barely a murmur. It was all you could muster.
“That I like you,” he said simply, as if he couldn’t hold the words back any longer. “That’s what I wanted to tell you.”
You still hadn’t regained the ability to speak; your gaze flitted about the room as if searching for what to say before landing back on him, on his brown eyes, watching you with a softness and a hint of sadness that made your heart twist in your chest. 
You opened your mouth to speak, not particularly knowing what would come out, but he raised a hand to stop you, seeing the expression on your face. “You don’t have to say anything.”
Another silence fell after that, one in which your mind was reeling with the new reality that you had just been hit over the head with. Jacob, having feelings for you? For how long? And why hadn’t he told you earlier, at any other time prior to being in a life-or-death scenario like this one? After a few minutes—or maybe ten, you didn’t know—you pushed off the wall and slowly ambled over to sit beside him on the bed, where he was staring down at the injured leg you had just bandaged up.
“Ah, fuck—it wasn’t supposed to go like this,” he groaned, running a hand through his hair again. Your eyes swept over his face, lingering on the line of his strong jaw, on his soft-looking hair. “It was gonna be at the lake, or—or the campfire, y'know, once we were alone. And I would’ve had some liquid courage in me, so I didn’t sound like as much of a nervous idiot, and it would’ve just been chill—”
“Jacob—”
“—but then all this fucked up shit happened, and we all might be dead after tonight because of some dumbass romantic-comedy fantasy I had in my head—"
“It’s not your—”
“—like everything was just going to work out perfectly. Like one more night was going to change anything—”
“—Jacob. Look at me.”
The firmness in your tone made him snap out of his rambling, and when he finally turned to look at you, you didn’t allow yourself time to think twice. You took his face in your hands and kissed him.
That shut him up.
He went rigid for just a moment, but then you felt him melt into the kiss, leaning into you as his big hand came to rest on your thigh. It wasn’t a gentle kiss, nor an urgent one; it was deep, purposeful, as if a culmination of all the brief looks, small touches, and hidden thoughts that had passed between you. He kissed you as if it was just another summer night, as if you had all the time in the world in this cabin, and a warmth you hadn’t felt before spread through you as you marveled at how soft his lips felt against your own.
You broke the kiss, drawing back for breath, and you saw his gaze rove your face before falling back to your parted lips. “Wow,” he breathed after a long pause, for once looking as though he was at a loss for words.
“You didn’t have to wait all summer to do that,” you said, smiling softly, “just so you know.” You realized then that you were still holding his face, and slowly leaned away, letting your hands fall back into your lap.
“Huh.” He managed to tear his eyes away from your mouth to meet your stare, but when you bit your bottom lip, a habit of yours, you saw them flick back down once or twice. His hand hadn’t moved from your leg, and you were glad; it was warm and steadying. “Well, now I feel twice as stupid.”
You breathed a laugh, but shook your head slightly, looking at him earnestly. “Listen. None of this is your fault.” 
He let out a breath, barely a sigh. “If I hadn’t—”
“—you didn’t know this would happen. You couldn’t have known,” you told him firmly. You rested your hand over his on your thigh, a spark of electricity shooting up your arm at the simple touch. “Any one of us could have made the same mistake.”
“I just… I’m sorry,” he said quietly, and though you didn’t want the apology, you nodded, knowing he felt like he needed to say it. You could see the pain in his eyes, the self-blame, and it made something ache inside you. 
“We’re going to be fine,” you said, your grip on his hand tightening. Maybe you were trying to convince yourself of it just as much as him. “We’re all going to be fine.” You offered him a tiny, encouraging grin, needing things to not feel so serious right now. When he returned it, the corner of his lips quirking up in the ghost of his usual wide grin, you told yourself that it was just the beginning of… whatever this was. You weren’t going to think about the future right now, about everything that came after. For the moment, you were just glad to do this alongside him.
After all, once all of this was over, you’d have nothing but time.
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kat-thepoet · 5 months ago
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Veins of Violet
Logan Howlett X Female Reader
Part 1: A grumpy Canadian enters
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A/N: Hello guys! This is a Logan x Female reader story. So please enjoy!
Description: Violet, on the run from a dark past, finds herself stuck with Logan as her roommate, with her unpredictable best friend Wade by her side. As she navigates the chaos of her new life, she must choose between a love that could save her and a darkness that could consume her.
3.6k words
"Have you thought about what I told you?" I asked Vanessa as I sat across from her at our local coffee shop. 
"Yes, and I think I'm ready to talk to him about us." she says with a soft smile. 
A few weeks ago, before Wade unexpectedly left on his birthday party, I told Vannesa that she should get back together with him. They are such a cute couple, and Vanessa deserves to be with the person she loves, even though he's a total dickwad. I have known Wade for about six years when I auditioned for his superhero team. Or whatever you can call a group of morons who all collectively came together to save a chubby kid from being killed by a time travel freak with a medal arm. Regardless of mine and Wade's differences, like who is better, Edward or Jacob, or if pineapple belongs on pizza (it doesn't), he is still considered one of my best friends, along with Vanessa, whom I love dearly like a sister.
As I come back from my daydreaming, Vanessa gives me a slight grin and proceeds to ask her annoying question.
"So... now that Wade and I are possibly getting back together, why have you been avoiding the dating pool? I mean, I love you, but I don't want to see you die alone or possibly be forced to marry someone just to settle down. I want you to find someone who you can pour your heart into, like I do with Wade."
I look at her with annoyance and roll my eyes at her dramatic statement. After my last cheating boyfriend Adam who fucked my roommate by the way in my apartment, I've never found someone who truly moved me and made me feel special. I have gone on dates alone and even double dates with Nessa and Wade, but I have never felt something inside of me that truly made me desire them. When Vanessa talks about her and Wade's love lives and even their sex lives, she makes it sound like it's filled with passion and thrill, and I haven't experienced that with anyone yet. And I'm not even sure I ever will. 
"We've talked about this, Vanessa. I haven't found anyone interesting, and I'm not going to force it by going to some lame bar and picking up the first person who shows interest." She laughs at my statement but doesn't say anything in response.
As we walked back to our building, we saw Wade with a dog who looked strangly like him, and along with him was a man with a very nice build and he was really handsome. As Wade spotted Vanessa walking down the street with me, he quickly let his dog sit on the ground and sprinted over to her, arms wide open.
"Vanessa! My love, my light, my everything! You look stunning as ever. It's like seeing the sun come up after a night of binge-watching questionable rom-coms. How about we skip all this mundane reality stuff and dive straight into a romantic montage? I've missed you more than tacos on a Tuesday!"
She pushes her off him. "Where the hell have you been? You left the party without even saying anything, and you expect me to be happy to see you?!" She says it angerfully.
I laugh, and he turns to me. "Well, well, if it isn't my favorite partner in crime," he said, giving me a playful nudge. "Looking fabulous as always. I swear, every time I see you, it's like someone cranked up the glam dial to eleven." He says with a sly smile.
I roll my eyes and, angrly, ask him the same question. "No, Wade, where the hell have you been? I called 20 times, and not one single call was returned!" I quickly glanced at his friend, and he was already staring at me. I quickly looked back at Wade, waiting for a response.
Wade raised his hands in mock surrender, a sheepish grin on his face.
"Whoa, whoa, easy there, tiger! I knew I should've upgraded my phone plan to include 'dealing with angry best friends' insurance. But in my defense, I was, uh... busy saving the world? Or maybe I got distracted by a marathon of cat videos. They're surprisingly addictive, you know!"
He glanced at his friend, who was still watching the exchange with interest, and then turned back to me with a wink.
"But seriously, I'm sorry for ghosting you two. I'll explain everything later, but for now, I need to kiss my girl."
He looked at Vanessa, and she stopped him, putting her hand on his mouth. "I'm not your girl; we still have a lot to talk about, Wade."
Wade paused, eyes wide with mock horror. He slowly removed her hand, raising an eyebrow with a playful smirk.
"Oh, come on, Vanessa! You know, I can't resist kissing my favorite girl, even if I have to work a little harder for it. But I get it, I get it—relationship talk first, smooches later. Consider me on my best behavior. We can talk about anything and everything you want—whether it's why I've been MIA or what I'm planning for our next adventure."
As he looks at his friend, he slaps his own forehead.
"I almost forgot, ladies, feast your eyes on the one, the only, the eternally grumpy Canadian himself—Wolverine! Or, as I like to call him, Logan, he is the sharpest guy I know. And no, that's not just a reference to his claws." He nudged Wolverine with his elbow, grinning.
"This is the guy who puts the 'X' in 'X-Men' and the 'grr' in 'gruff.' When he's not busy saving the world or scowling, he's perfecting his signature brooding look and cutting sarcasm. You might say he's the best there is at what he does, and what he does is... make me look even more sexy by comparison." Wade turned to Vanessa and I with a wink.
"Don't worry; he's not as intimidating as he seems. Just give him a beer, and he'll be your best friend—or at least tolerate you with only minimal growling. Logan, meet Vanessa, my stunning muse, and Violet, my partner in crime. Try not to scare them off with your rugged charm, alright?" Logan just rolls his eyes at his stupid introduction.
Vanessa extends her arm to shake his hand, and he hesitates for a moment but shakes it with a firm grip. "Nice to meet you, Logan." She says with a smile. Logan responds with a sarcastic tone, "Yeah, you too."
I extend my hand to do the same, and he takes it, but my hand lingers in his for a moment before he quickly pulls away. It's nice to meet you, Logan. Knowing the mouth that Wade has on him, you must have dealt with a few suicidal thoughts." I ask, trying to lighten the mood.
He smirks at my question and says , "Yeah, you could say that."
Wade clapped his hands together with an exaggerated gasp, clearly delighted by the interaction.
"Oh, I see what's happening here! Bonding over my endless ability to drive people nuts! Classic move, Vi." he said with a playful grin.
He waggled his eyebrows at Wolverine. "See, Logan? I told you my best friend's got a wicked sense of humor. We could start a support group for people who've survived my witty repartee. 'Deadpool's Survivors Club.' Meetings every Tuesday—blizzard dust and therapy provided."
Vanessa and I laughed at his comment, and we all headed back to his place.
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Before I went to wades place I departed from the group and went into my apartment that was two doors over from his. I decided to get comfortable and take my working clothes off that had dirt on them from washing flowers. 
I work at a flower shop that's about two blocks from here. I started working there about two years ago. The pay is great; I can pay my bills and treat myself once in a while. but I also live comfortingly because of my grandparents trust fund. My grandparents took care of me until I was 19 years old. They were doctors and were very successful. My parents died in a car crash when I was five. I don't really remember anything from that time. I guess my brain blocked all that trauma out. But regardless, I still ended up being experimented on by these mad scientists with some glowy gems. That's what granted me my abilities. And they used me to kill people. I try to forget at times, but now, ten years later, I'm here, surrounded by family who I adore.
I decided to change into a red tank top and grey sweatpants with my black and white Converse. By the look of the clouds, it looks like it's going to start to rain. I brush my hair and add a little makeup to clean myself up a bit. I finish up with a vanilla mist that Vanessa got me for my birthday, and I head out the door. 
I knock on Wade's door, and through the door I hear muffling sounds and loud music. Nobody answers, so I open the door myself. The room is filled with some X-force members, along with Tin Man. Ellie and their adorable girl friend are singing kareoke. On the other side of the room in the kitchen, I see blind Al sniffing a line, Vanessa and Wade making out, and other junkies eating and drinking food. How did this escalate so quickly? I was only gone for 30 minutes. As I scanned the room to find a spot to sit, I saw Logan on the couch with a beer in his hand, watching Beyonce and Ariana horribly sing. There's a seat next to his, so I decided to sit next to him. 
"Are you enjoying the party?" I asked with a smile.
Logan glanced at you, his expression flat.
"It's something, all right," he grumbled, taking another sip of his beer. "At least the beer's cold."
He shook his head slightly, watching the chaos unfold with a weary look.
"I've seen worse," he added with a shrug. 
Logan leaned back, looking at you with a raised eyebrow. "You here to rescue me, or just enjoying the show?"
I pressed my lips together. He's not one to have a conversation with because he's so moody, and I'm determined to find out why, but I'll just play along with his nonchalant attitude for now. 
"Just enjoying the show," I replied with a smirk. Logan's eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn't press further, turning his attention back to the chaos around us. 
"Are you going to drink something?" he asked in a low voice.
"There's nothing here that doesn't destroy your liver." I said it with a tight smile.
"You don't drink?" he asked curiously.
"No." I said firmly, trying to keep the conversation light. "I prefer to keep a clear head in situations like this." Logan nodded, seemingly satisfied with my response, and we continued to watch the chaos unfold around us in silence. 
"So, how did you meet Wade?" I asked curiously. 
Logan took a moment, swirling his beer thoughtfully before answering.
"Well, it wasn't exactly a fairy tale," he replied with a wry smile. "Wade showed up out of nowhere, talking about timelines and some TVA nonsense. I thought he was just some weird fuck who wanted to mess with me."
He sighed, shaking his head at the memory.
"But then there was this whole thing with Cassandra threatening the timeline. I guess we ended up being unlikely allies. Not my first choice, but he's persistent."
Logan glanced at you, a hint of amusement in his eyes.
"Wade's like a bad rash; he just keeps coming back until you deal with him. At least this time, we managed to save the day and avoid a multiverse meltdown."
He shrugged, taking another sip of his beer. "You could say it was... educational."
I looked at him confused because, honestly, I did not understand any word that he said. He saw my expression puzzled but didn't focus too much on it. 
"How did you meet a fucker like Wade?" he asked.
"It's a long story, but I've known him for about 6 years, and I met him when I auditioned for the X Force." 
"Wait, you auditioned for the X Force? Why? " He looked at me strangely. 
"Well, I have abilities of my own, and I wanted to use them for good." I said with a dry smile. 
Logan nodded, processing your answer with a gruff expression.
"Abilities, huh?" he said, raising an eyebrow. "Wade's got a knack for attracting people like us. But an audition? That sounds like something only Wade would come up with."
Logan leaned back, giving you a more appraising look. "So, what can you do? And how've you survived six years with Wade without losing your mind?"
We talked about Wade and how fucked up in the head he was. Until I saw the time. It read 11:50. 
"Oh, shoot, I have to get going. I have work in the morning." I said as I quickly stood up. 
I quickly turned around and waved everyone good bye. As I headed for the door, Wade trotted after me with a mischievous grin on his face.
"Hey, wait up!" he called, catching up to me just as I stepped outside. "Before you disappear into the responsible adult dimension, I've got a burning question."
He leaned in conspiratorially, lowering his voice with mock seriousness. "So, does your annoying roommate still haunt your apartment, or have you finally exorcised that particular demon? I mean, I can't be the only one who thinks she's a walking buzzkill, right?"
I laughed at his remark about my ex roommate. I crossed my arms at his question. 
"Why?" I said with a stern face. 
Wade put on his best innocent face, which was hard to take seriously with the mischievous twinkle in his eyes.
"Oh, no reason," he said, feigning nonchalance as he rocked back on his heels. "It's just that I have this furry, brooding friend who might be in the market for a new place to crash."
He leaned in closer, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. "You see, Logan here has this whole 'lone wolf' vibe going on, but I think deep down, he's just a cuddly, oversized teddy bear in need of a cozy new den."
Wade wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Plus, think about it: free security, and you'll never have to worry about running out of beer. And if you two ever get into an argument, he's got that healing factor, so no worries about broken bones or anything."
He flashed a grin, clearly enjoying himself. "So, what do you say? Got room for one more grumpy Canadian in your life?"
I looked at him, trying to see if this would be a good idea. He gave me puppy eyes, and I responded by rolling my eyes back. "Is he messy?" I asked, annoyed. 
"I don't think so; let me ask." He quickly turned around and started skipping to his door. Before I could say anything, he brought out Logan. In the dim light of the hallway, I could see through his white beater tank top, which revealed his muscular physique. It made my mouth salivate. Why am I thinking this way? 
I look at Wade, and he looks at Logan. " Are you messy?" 
Logan crossed his arms, giving Wade a skeptical look before turning his attention to you.
"Messy?" he grunted, his voice gravelly. "Not really. I keep to myself and clean up after I eat.
Logan glanced at Wade, then back at you, with a hint of a smirk. "But if you're expecting a neat freak, you might want to look elsewhere. I'm not exactly Martha Stewart."
He paused for a moment, reading your expression, and added, "And don't worry, I don't bite. Much."
I rolled my eyes at his comment. He's clearly drunk, but I trust he's just trying to make a joke. Plus, his honesty about his habits is refreshing in a roommate. 
"Fine." I said with a thin smile.
Wade's eyes lit up with excitement as soon as I said "fine."
"Score one for Team Wolverine!" he exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air like he'd just won a championship. "You won't regret it! Well, maybe a little, but hey, what's life without some excitement, right?"
He clapped Logan on the back with a playful grin. "Welcome to your new home, bub! Remember, no claw marks on the good furniture, and try to keep the late-night growling to a minimum unless you want Violet to reconsider."
Wade turned back to you, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "You've got yourself a real-life superhero as a roommate! Not everyone can say that. Just don't let him hog the remote on movie night—or the weed stash."
He gave you a thumbs up, clearly pleased with the outcome. "So, when's the housewarming party? I'll bring the chimichangas and some earplugs for those late-night howls, or we can do a threesome, whichever you prefer."
I rolled my eyes in annoyance. 
I drew my attention to Logan before I spoke. "Go get your stuff so you can settle in." I said this as I turned to unlock my door. Wade kissed me on the cheek and walked with Logan back to his apartment. 
I turned on the light from the spare room and thanked God that I cleaned it the second that whore Sara moved out because it was a mess. Luckily, the bed had fresh sheets, and it smelled clean. I heard a firm knock on the door. 
That must be Logan. 
I opened the door and saw Adam drunk and crying. 
"Adam, what the hell are you doing here?" Adam, my cheating ex-boyfriend that I mentioned before, was here begging me to take him back and to forgive him for fucking my roommate on my new couch. 
I crotched down to his level and said, "I'm never going to fucking forgive you for what you did to me. We were fucking engaged, but you chose to fuck another girl. Not a random girl, my fucking roommate, who I considered my closest friend. You know how I feel about lies and betrayals." I said with tears forming in my eyes. I know that he used and hurt me, but I can't help but feel heartbroken, even though this happened two months ago. He started to come closer until I tripped back on my ass. I landed on the floor, and he was on top of me. "Get off of me!" I said angrly. As I squirmed under him, I felt my eyes glow, and my powers wanted to come out and play, but I held the urge as I was fighting him off. All of a sudden, I hear loud footsteps coming towards us. Logan comes out of nowhere and grabs him by the collar. He yanks him onto the floor. My eyes are still closed as I try to control my outburst. I hear Logan yell at him, to never set foot here again, and Adam runs off. 
As I control my breathing, Logan comes next to me and leans in. "It's ok, he's gone." He said in a low voice. I feel better for some reason now that he's by my side. I thank him still, with my eyes closed. I stand up and open my eyes to see him staring into mine. I blink the tears away and grab a glass of water. 
"Who was that punk?" he asks, his voice laced with concern. I take a deep breath before responding, "My ex-boyfriend." I said calmly. 
He doesn't say anything. I stand still until I finish my cup of water. 
"Ok, sorry about that. Let's start with the tour. I have to get up early tomorrow. " I said with a soft smile. He nodded and proceeded with the living room.
As I gave the tour, he stared very intently at everything. How the laundry machines worked and where stuff was located in the kitchen. And I offered him a glass of water. After I gave a tour of everything but the bedrooms, he jugged the glass of water, and I stared intensely. The way his Adam's apple would bob from the gulp and the water droplets rolling down on his throat onto his hairy chest. He's so handsome and muscular. The way his dark blue jeans hug his thighs and how tight his pants are around the crotch area makes me feel parched. I quickly composed myself before he noticed I was staring too hard. Oh, he noticed
I opened my bedroom to let him take a peek. "Here's my bedroom, so if you need anything, just knock on the door. Next to mine is yours." I opened the bedroom door, and it was simple not girly or masculine, just normal. He shook his head in greatfulness. "Thank you for letting me stay here. It means a lot." I smiled at him as a response. 
"I left you some things on your bed that you might need, but if you don't have any questions, then this is it." I smiled once more and walked into my room. 
He walked into his, and we both closed our doors. I quickly put on my pijamas, which were a pair of short shorts and a small tank top. I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth. As I walked back to my room, I heard a knock on my door. It was him asking if he could borrow a toothbrush. I thought I gave him one, but I must have forgotten. I walked over to the restroom, and he followed. I could feel his eyes on me, but I didn't pay too much attention. I leaned down to grab a new toothbrush from under the sink, forgetting that my ass was full on display for him to see. I gave him the brush and said good night. 
"Goodnight," he said back in a nicer tone. 
Next part: Part 2: Of claws and heart
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janeyseymour · 7 months ago
Text
chosen family
summary: jacob hill has always been like something of a son to Melissa Schemmenti. You, Melissa's partner, make him realize that.
WC: ~3.3k
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Melissa Schemmenti has always been drawn to people who could not be further from herself. It’s always been that way for her. 
You are not the exception. You couldn’t be more different than the fiery redheaded teacher. Just like everyone else to work there that she is close with, you couldn’t be more different. You’ve picked up on this pattern. You’ve also picked up on other things concerning your new colleagues.
Barbara Howard is a perfect example of being entirely different from Melissa Schemmenti- her work wife, her platonic soulmate until the end of time. The first day, you were made very aware that Melissa Schemmenti and Barbara Howard were something of work wives and platonic soulmates. While yes, they both attend church every Sunday, the kindergarten teacher is much more devout. Barbara Howard is a rule follower, where Melissa bends the rules in ways nobody ever thought possible. While Barbara Howard is often steady and stable, Melissa Schemmenti could light someone’s car on fire over something as trivial as picking up the wrong pasta sauce on the way home.
Janine Teagues, someone who radiates sunshine and positivity, is somewhat of a daughter or a niece to the redhead. The same goes for Gregory- he’s like a son or nephew, in an odd way. You’ve learned that one thing to be aware of is that Janine is never stopping- she’s always going to the point of exhaustion and usually ends up creating a bigger mess than the one she was trying to clean up in the first place. You’ve learned that her and Gregory are dating; but apparently they’ve only officially been dating for a few months now. Before then, they’ve been the ‘will they, won’t they’ talk of the staff room.
Mr. Johnson has such a free spirit that it irritates Melissa at times. But they see eye to eye when it comes to important things in life- like how they would survive on a desert island or a zombie apocalypse. The two have a friendship that confuses both of them. He is there for fun, despite having a crucial part in the school.
Ava Coleman, at one point an enigma to the teacher, has a special spot in Melissa’s heart. At first, it was hatred. And then it was something of a kinship. Ava Coleman may not be conventional by any means, but it worked. Melissa found that she quite liked the zest and interesting takes that the principal held with her. It took time, but they found a rhythm, and that rhythm has since been perfected. Ava Coleman, much like the custodian, wants all fun and no work.
And that left Jacob Hill. Jacob hill, a soft and at times skittish gay man that Melissa couldn’t stand when he first was employed by the city of Philadelphia. But now? Now they’re like two peas in a pod. They’re quite the unconventional pair- a very soft and somewhat skittish gay man and a tough, mob-like redhead. But they seem to work. They seem to work far better than anyone had expected, including the two living together. And the last thing that you’ve come to understand about the young man is that Jacob Hill is something of a son to the fiery second grade teacher. When you first started working here, you actually did think that Jacob was her son- that was quickly laughed off by Janine and she told you the truth of the matter. 
And since you’ve worked at Abbott, you’ve become quite close with the second grade teacher. You’re actually dating her now. It’s something that you’re still having a hard time grappling with. How could someone as beautiful and as… Melissa, as she is end up with someone like you?
But it seems to work out. The green eyed woman seems to be drawn to people who could not be further from her. 
Jacob has quickly become a staple at the apartment that the two of you now share, him moving out a few months ago- it makes sense in all actuality. He and Melissa are quite close, and in turn the two of you are closer now as well.
You see how happy it makes your girlfriend to have the always grinning, and yet somehow still always subtly cynical, man around. You see it when she’s able to make him a plate of dinner, share lunch portions with him, when she’s able to give him advice (in teaching or other), when he’s settling on the couch with the two of you to watch what they know refer to as ‘their’ show. Melissa mothers him more than she mothers Janine, leaving that job to her platonic work wife. It’s a sweet little relationship that the two of them hold very dear to their hearts. 
You’re about to enter the staff room when you hear the two of them chatting quietly over their lunches.
“You’re still coming over tonight to watch, right?” you hear your girlfriend ask.
You can hear Jacob scoff. “Of course I am. Where else would I be?”
“I figured now that you’re seeing Ravi a bit more seriously, maybe you would want to-”
“Mel Mel, no,” you hear the middle grades teacher laugh. You can practically see him rolling his eyes. “Why would I want to be anywhere else?”
You see this as a good time to enter the room, taking your seat next to the redhead. You peck her cheek delicately before diving into your leftovers from last nights Schemmenti family dinner.
“Jake’s coming over for dinner tonight, that okay?” Green eyes look into yours for any sort of hesitation from you.
“He knows he’s always welcome to come over.”
So that’s how you spend that night. You’re in the recliner reading your book while Jacob and Melissa veg out on the couch with their popcorn and sour cream and onion flavoring. They each have a glass of wine, and they’re deep into conversation about who is slighting who and why. It makes you chuckle as you half listen to their conversation, half read about the drama that is happening in your book.
“What are you reading?” Jacob asks. Only then do you look up from your book and realize that your girlfriend is nowhere to be seen.
You show him the cover before asking, “Where’d Mel go?”
“Bathroom,” he tells you. “Then we’re going to watch a movie since our show is over… she thought it might be a nice way to wind down, and who am I to deny that?”
“You’re such a good son to her, you know,” you say casually as you return your attention back to your book. You flip the page. 
Jacob is left searching for words. “She’s not my mother.”
“No, but you’re still the best son she has,” you shrug and reach over to pop a piece of popcorn in your mouth.
He goes to say more, but Melissa returns, reaching for the blanket that is draped over the edge of the couch. She lays it across the two of them before reaching for the remote to turn on whatever movie the two of them will be watching. Jacob swears he sees a smirk dancing across your lips. And he’s right- you are smirking. Because now you know he’s thinking about what you said.
He supposes he sees it- the way that Melissa mothers him. If he’s being honest with himself, his own mother doesn’t even treat him like this anymore. It’s… nice to have someone care for him like that. 
That night ends in Melissa sending Jacob off to his house with a Tupperware container full of Braciole and a “Text me when you’re home and safe in your apartment!”
As time goes on, your words linger in Jacob’s head. He’s like the son Melissa never had. And that is oddly okay with him- he like’s being the best son that your girlfriend has.
And when he and Ravi end with a messy breakup, your girlfriend is the first person he calls. He doesn’t call Janine, he doesn’t call Gregory, he doesn’t even call his own mother. No. The first person that crosses his mind as he leaves Ravi’s apartment for the last time is Melissa.
It’s late, and logically he knows that she probably isn’t awake and hasn’t been for hours. But he wants some maternal love and dials anyway.
You and your girlfriend are curled up in bed- her asleep, and you on the verge of sleep- when her phone rings to life.
“Who the fuck is calling at…” she blinks her eyes awake and glances at the clock. “1:30 in the morning?”
“Just let it go,” you sigh softly.
She reaches for her phone, and when you expect her to set it back down and pull you into her arms again, she doesn’t. Instead, her voice sounds concerned.
“Jacob?” is the only thing that she says into the phone.
You can hear his labored breaths. He doesn’t speak.
“Jake,” your girlfriend sighs. “Jacob, what’s going on? It’s 1:30 in the morning.”
“I- I know,” he chokes out. “But I- Ravi and I just broke up, and I didn’t know who else to call.”
“Oh,” Melissa’s face absolutely drops. She knows how much the social studies teacher liked the firefighter.
“I- I’m sorry,” he says pathetically into the phone. “I- I don’t even know why I called. Get back to-”
The redhead clears her throat, trying to get any of the remaining sleep out of her voice before she speaks again. “We’re still up. Come over.”
“It’s okay,” the distraught man sighs into the phone. “I can just…”
“Jacob, your ass better be here within the next thirty minutes,” Melissa tells him sternly. “You called me, you clearly don’t want to be alone, we were already up, so just come over.”
And that’s how you end up curled up next to your girlfriend, a glass of white wine in hand while Melissa sits in her spot, two glasses of red wine poured out for when her work son arrives.
“Babe, when he gets here though-”
“When he gets here, I’m moving to my recliner so you can mother him,” you roll your eyes as you yawn. “I don’t even know why I have to be here when he comes in.”
“Because I told him we were both up, and I don’t want him to think that we got out of bed for him,” Melissa tells you.
You smile at her softly as you rest your head on her shoulder. “You’re a good mother to him.”
“He’s not my son,” she chuckles.
“No, I know,” you sigh. “But he might as well be at this point. He called you, not his own mother.”
That thought makes her quirk her head to the side, thinking on this sentiment. She doesn’t have much time though, because Jacob is at the door knocking softly. You pick your head up and stand with her. While Melissa makes her way to the door, you take up the space in your recliner and curl up under the blanket, immediately reaching for the television remote.
You hear his sniffles as he comes in. He kicks off his shoes, and your girlfriend ushers him to the couch. She hands him the wine and wraps her arms around him. All Jacob can do is cry. 
The redhead hushes her coworker gently, promising him that everything will be okay. And Jacob believes that- because if Melissa is saying it, it has to be true.
That night ends with him falling asleep on your girlfriend’s shoulder, and Melissa lays him down on the couch when the two of you finally decide to retire back to bed. She pulls the afghan from the back of the couch and gently drapes it over his body before running the tip of her index finger over his cheek.
“You’ll be alright, hun,” she whispers to him. Then she turns back to you and takes your hand.
As the two of you are curling up in bed for the second time that night, you hum, “You really would make a wonderful mother.”
When the time comes that you finally (according to Jacob and Janine) think about getting engaged and married to Melissa, Jacob could not want to be in on it more. He helps you find the perfect ring, he helps you plan it all, and he even insists on hiding out in the shadows in order to capture the event.
“Trying to make your mom happy?” you tease him.
He rolls his eyes with a smirk on his face. “She’s not my mother, but… Melissa being happy is all all of us want.”
When you do end up proposing to her, you expect Barbara to be the first person that your girlfriend flies into the arms of. Instead, it’s Jacob. Barbara, of course, is second. But Jacob seems absolutely ecstatic, telling the redhead that he helped with almost every aspect of the proposal. Melissa tells him that she couldn’t have wished for it to be anything else, and that she was very proud of him. Jacob blushes profusely, and it reminds all three of you just how close your Abbott family really is.
As wedding plans come along, Jacob is there for all of it. It’s a sweet thing. He looks like a kid in the candy store as Melissa, Barbara, and he look for the perfect outfit to get married in. Barbara is of course Melissa’s matron of honor, and Jacob is just happy to be there. He has no idea that at this appointment, Melissa is also going to be having him try on suits to match the bridal party.
“So,” Jacob leans forward with excitement. “What colors are you planning on doing for the bridal parties?!”
“Y/N and I decided that a nice salmony pink color might be good,” Melissa says with a twinkle in her eye. “So… you better start looking at ties and suits, mister.”
Barbara, who knew that her best friend was going to reveal this bit of information, grins. Meanwhile, Jacob’s jaw absolutely drops. He’s astounded.
“What? Why would I have to find a tie for-”
“Did you really think I wouldn’t have you in my wedding party?” the redhead rolls her eyes as she opens up her arms. “You’re as close to a son as I’m going to get as of right now. Of course you’re in the wedding.”
Tears begin to pour over the younger man’s face as he fully tackles his work mother in a hug. “Oh my god.”
“I don’t know,” he chuckles through his tears. “I just thought that I was here to-”
“To help me pick out my outfit, but also to help figure out the perfect color that you’ll be wearing and to get fitted for a suit, if you want,” Melissa tells him.
Barbara passes out three glasses of champagne in celebration.
When your wedding day finally comes, you’re standing up at the altar in your own suit as you await the moment that Melissa will be walked down the aisle by none other than Mr. Johnson (he was elated when your fiancee explained to him that he was something of a father figure to him). 
The ceremony is beautiful- perfect even. Everybody laughs, everybody sheds tears, everybody is just thrilled at the fact that the two of you are tying the knot.
The reception is a thrill. Both you and Melissa make small toasts, a few others speak, and then it’s time for dancing.
You have your first dance with your wife (good God, you can call her your wife now!), she dances with Mr. Johnson, you dance with your own father, and then… Melissa makes her way up to the microphone.
“Hey youse guys,” Melissa chuckles nervously. “I know everyone else wants to get to dancing, but there is one more special person that I’d like to dance with… if he’ll make his way up.”
Nobody stands, but your wife’s green eyes are trained on Jacob.
“Me?” he gasps. At Melissa’s nod, he stands hesitantly before making his way over. 
“Of course.” You see that those green eyes start to turn a little glassy, and she takes a deep breath to steady herself. “For those of you that don’t know… this is Jacob Hill- grade A pain in my ass turned something like a son to me.”
The two dance to a beautiful song written by Elton John, “Chosen Family”. By the end of it, there are no dry eyes in the audience. It’s a song that feels like it was written for them.
And then the night is off, everyone is dancing, and you’re just relishing in this beautiful moment that you have in your hands.
Jacob is dancing near the two of you when you decide to make your way over.
“Hey,” you check him with your hip gently. “Welcome to the family.”
The man smiles at you from ear to ear.
“You’re such a good son to her,” you compliment softly as you envelope him in a hug.
He just chuckles in your ear. “I know. I don’t know how I got so lucky to have her in my life.” Then his jaw drops. “Oh my god. Does this mean you’re like a weird sort of step-mom to me now?!”
As time goes on, you and your wife decide to try to expand the family. And somehow, by some grace of God (Melissa would tell you that it’s because Barbara prayed over you two night after night), you end up pregnant after the first treatment.
If you thought Jacob was a part of your household before, he’s only over more now. He’s constantly bringing over baby clothes and toys, helping Melissa to assemble the crib and the rocking chair as well as installing carseats into both of your cars, he’s bringing over remedies to help you with morning sickness and then creams and other things to help you feel the most comfortable that you can be during this pregnancy.
When you go into labor, he’s the first one Melissa calls, and then she calls Barbara.
You deliver a son, a beautiful baby boy. He’s perfect. And he has an even more perfect name.
“Go get Jake,” you tell your wife gently as you continue to cradle your son to your chest. “He deserves to meet his godson, and lord knows that boy has been sitting in the waiting room since he got your call.”
Melissa just chuckles as she stands from her place on your bed, kisses you softly, strokes the boy’s cheek, and then heads out.
She brings back both Barbara and Jacob, who immediately squeal upon seeing you as a mother for the first time. While Jacob fully thinks that you’ll hand the baby to your wife’s work-wife first, you actually hand the baby to him. He looks at this baby like he’s never seen anything more perfect.
“Do we have a name?” Barbara asks.
You smile at the man holding your newborn. “We do.”
“And it is?” Barbara prompts.
“Mel, do you want to tell him what his godson’s name is?” you prompt.
Jacob’s eyes go wide, and his jaw drops. “G-godson?”
“Godson,” you confirm, tears in your own eyes. You wipe at them gently as you lay back in the hospital bed.
“His name is,” Melissa chuckles through tears of her own as she makes her way over to the pair. “Milo Jacob Schemmenti… Milo meaning beloved, and Jacob, after you.”
“After… after me?” Jacob’s voice goes high as his eyes fill with even more tears. He holds the baby even closer to him, if that’s possible.
“Of course,” your wife smiles as she wraps a proud arm around him. “And if Milo turns out half as good as my first son, that kid is going to be set for life.”
TAGS: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo
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vanfleeter · 1 month ago
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Christmas Love
Summary: Pretending to be Jake's fiancée in a poor attempt of making his ex jealous and proving that he's moved on suddenly becomes all too real by the end of the night.
Characters: Jake Kiszka x Fem!reader Warnings: 18+ || Tons of fluff. Jealousy. Kissing. Insecurity. Doubt. A/N: Probably isn't the best, but it's just a small something I threw together.
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“Absolutely not.” You say, shaking your head and walking away from him.
“Come on, Y/N,” Jake says as he follows after you. “Please?”
“No! I am not going to go to Sam's holiday party as your fake fiancée just to make your ex jealous.”
Jake steps in front you, forcing you to stop walking. “Okayyyyy. What if you just went as my girlfriend?”
“Jacob!” You groan. “Why me?”
“It’s believable.” He says with a small shrug of his shoulders.
“This has got to be the stupidest plan you have ever come up with.” You say. “Why on earth do you even want to make her jealous?” He again shrugs his shoulders. “Jake, stop being immature and just move on. She did.”
“Yeah.. I know.. Which is why I want to show her that I too can move on.”
“But you haven’t..”
“But I can.”
“You still haven't..”
Jake rolls his eyes before looking at you with them fully blown into puppy dog eyes. “Please? I’ll even let you pick out a ring you’d want to wear.”
“So we’re back to fiancée?”
“I move on pretty quick,” He winks.
You roll your eyes and huff a sigh, letting your shoulders fall in defeat. “Fine..”
“Yes!” He exclaims throwing his hands in the air. “I will bring over some rings for you to look through tonight and then tomorrow I’ll pick you up around six. You have to wear something green and pretty.”
“Oh so now I’m not pretty?” You say with your hands on your hips.
“You’re always pretty,” He says before smiling sweetly. “Thank you, thank you, thank you for doing this.” He quickly kisses your cheeks and squeezes your shoulders before taking off down the sidewalk.
You sigh, shaking your head before heading off in your own direction.
Just like Jake promised, he showed up to your apartment with a box of assorted diamond rings in different shapes with different bands. Some silver, some gold, some rose gold. You thought it best not to question how he managed to get his hands on all of these, so instead you sat yourself on the couch and tried on each ring.
It didn't take you long to settle on a three carat, marquise diamond fitted to a silver band.
“That’s the one you want?” He asks.
“What–is it not good enough for you–fiance?” You say raising your eyebrows. “Aren’t I supposed to be the one who is supposed to love it?”
He holds up his hands in the air, “Okay, okay.. Fair.”
You look back down at the ring on your finger. The way it rested on your ring finger looked like it belonged there, and a tiny part of you wished it could be.
If you had to be honest with yourself, even though you’d never admit to Jake, you did like him a little bit–and maybe was a little jealous of his ex. You may have also felt some joy when they broke up, even though he was heartbroken–which made you feel guilty for feeling happy they did.
Though you weren’t alone in the tiny bit of feelings towards the other one. Seeing you wearing the ring sparked a little something within Jake. Or more so–reigniting suppressed feelings. After breaking up with his ex, he was heartbroken but at the same time, it made him start to see you in a different light. You had always been just a friend. A friend he met years ago when first moving to Nashville. Nothing ever came of it and he never saw you as nothing more than a friend.
Clearing his throat, he reaches for the box of the other rings and stands up from the couch.
“Ehem.. So, uh.. I guess I will see you tomorrow,” He says. “And remember–”
“Wear something pretty and green,” You grumble. “Yes, I know–and I’ve already been dress shopping for a few ideas.”
“Oh yeah? Can I see?”
You shake your head as you stand up from the couch. “Not until tomorrow when you pick me up,” You wink at him. “Now shoo, I have a very important meeting to attend.” You say as you push him towards the door.
“Let me guess, this meeting is the newest season of Criminal Minds?”
“So what if it is?”
Jake scoffs and turns to face you after stepping through the open door. “I don’t get why you watch it..”
“It may come in handy someday.”
“You are a weird, weird woman,” Jake sighs.
“Goodbye, Jacob.” You say as you start to close the door.
“I’ll be back tomorrow at five thirty so you better be ready.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah–five thirty, I got it.” You finally close the door and breathe a sigh of relief.
Hobbling down the hall with one heel on and one in your hand, you make your way as quickly as you can to the door to pull it open in order to stop Jake’s incessant knocking. “Would you stop?” You huff as you throw the door open. “Geez, the time just turned five thirty.” You say as you hobble away, trying to slip on your other heel.
“You’re clearly not ready.” He says as he steps inside and closes the door behind him.
“I am so ready,” You say as you manage to finally slip on your shoe. You sigh and straighten out your dress and fix your hair. “See?”
“Great, let’s go.”
“Patience, Jacob.”
He shoots you a glare and you smile innocently. Snatching your purse and phone off the kitchen counter, you usher him out the door and lock it behind you before following him down the stairs to his car.
You could tell he was nervous as he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, out of rhythm with the music playing from the radio. Arriving at Sam’s place, he parks the car on the side of the street but doesn’t make a move to get out.
“Are you okay?” You ask.
“Hmm? Yeah, yeah..” He says, wiping his hands on the fabric of his suit pants.
“Well then come on now, it’s time to show me off,” You shoot him a wink before pushing open the car door and climbing out. It took him a minute before he’s climbing out as well and meeting you on the sidewalk. You grab hold of his hand and give him a smile before the two of you start up the walkway to the front door.
Stepping inside, you start to feel the warmth seeping through your coat. Slipping off your coat, Jake hangs it over his arm before helping you slide the gloves off your hands.
“Oh my god..” You hear Josh gasp from the living room doorway. “You proposed?!”
Jake winks at you and folds your gloves before stuffing them into the sleeve of your coat. Seems he got his brothers in on the ruse too.
“Let me see!” Josh says as he grabs your hand. “Damn, Jake you did good! Three carats too?”
“I told him it has to be big if he wanted me to yes,” You say, shooting Jake a smirk.
After Josh continues admiring and fawning over your ring, the two of you follow him into the living room. You feel Jake tense beside you and when you look up at him, you follow his line of sight to find that he’s looking at his ex who’s cuddling up on the couch with her current boyfriend. You pull him over to the loveseat before draping your legs over his lap and settling in against him. You begin to feel him relax and he shifts his body to make himself more comfortable as he reaches for your hand. You give him a reassuring smile and he lifts up your hand to give it a soft kiss on your knuckles.
“So Jake,” You hear her speak up from the couch. “Congratulations on your engagement. I had no idea you two were together.”
“Yeah, it uh, it just happened.” He says as he squeezes your hand. “Congratulations on your…boyfriend.”
You turn your head away as you chew your lip to keep yourself from laughing. You can see the corners of his lips twitch as he fights the urge himself.
“Be mature,” You mumble under your breath.
He leans in close to whisper into your ear. “I’m sorry, but I have a fiancée, she only has a boyfriend.” You slap him across the chest making him laugh. He leans over to kiss your cheek as he squeezes your hand again.
“I’m thirsty, want to get something to drink?” You ask as you swing your legs off of Jake’s lap and stand to your feet. “I heard Danny supplied some champagne.” You wag your eyebrows at him as you outstretch your hand for him to take. He happily takes it and leads the two of you into the kitchen.
Pouring a couple glasses, he hands you one before clinking his glass against yours and smiling. “To a beautiful night with a beautiful woman.”
“Such a flirt,” You say, rolling your eyes and lifting the glass to your lips to take a drink. You can see her standing from the couch and beginning to make her way to the kitchen. “Your kissing better be as good as your flirting.” You say.
“What?”
“Kiss me.”
“Okay.” He says.
He pulls you in against him and leans down to kiss you. You obviously never knew how his lips tasted but now you do. They taste of champagne and a little bit of minty chapstick. They’re also soft. You find yourself melting into him. He happily accepts it, chuckling slightly against your lips.
When you pull away, you notice his ex wearing a small smile on her face. His cheeks flush slightly red and he clears his throat. “I’m gonna go back into the living room,” He says before pulling away from you and retreating back to the loveseat in the living room.
You give his ex a friendly smile and go to turn around when she speaks up. “I’m glad to see he’s found someone,” She says. “And I meant it when I said congrats. He deserves someone who makes him happy.”
“You made him happy too,” You say.
She shakes her head. “Not like you do,” She says. “I can see how comfortable you make him feel.” She takes a drink of her champagne before walking back towards the living room. “He’s lucky to have you.” She adds before turning back around and walking away from you.
Turning back to the countertop, you drink the rest of the champagne in your glass before refilling it. He’s only lucky to have you because you’re a good friend. He doesn’t love you. You’re only doing this so he can show off to his ex that he’s moved on, but he really hasn't. You know he hasn’t. He still loves her, but he will never love you. Why would he love you anyways? Sure he does as a friend. That’s how it has always been.
Looking down at the ring on your finger, your heart aches knowing that it will never be real. By the end of the night, you will have removed it and the two of you will just move on from this night as if it never happened. But it did. The kissing happened. The hand holding. All of it happened but you’re sure that come tomorrow morning, none of it will matter to him.
Little did you know that you were wrong. While you had your back turned to the living room, Jake had been watching you, waiting for you to come back. He found himself thoroughly enjoying watching you move around in that dress. It’s a knee length dress, he figured you chose to go a little modest in that area so as to not cause problems. But the way the fabric of the dress hugged you just right left little to his imagination. The dress accentuated your curves and it moved freely with every twist and turn of your body. Don’t even get him started on the front.
He drinks more of his champagne and crosses his leg over the other to hide exactly how he’s feeling. But he isn't just turned on by the way you look. He does find you incredibly beautiful. Even last night when he showed up with the rings and you were only in your pajamas with your hair tied in a bun. You wore no makeup but yet he would call you beautiful.
Noticing you coming back to the loveseat, he smiles up at you and pats the empty space beside him. Of course you’d sit, but you still happily obliged and sat down anyway. You hadn’t rested your legs on him this time so he bent over and grabbed hold of them and dragged them up and over his lap. He definitely took you by surprise when he looked at you and that’s the look you wore on your face. He simply winks and takes a drink of his champagne.
The night went on after that. It was filled with laughter and storytelling, a couple games that Josh forced Jake to partake in. But most of the time, Jake stayed with you on the couch. You noticed every time he sat down, he pulled your legs back up onto his lap and kept them there.
When you began getting tired, he felt you leaning against him with your head resting on his shoulder. Wrapping his arms around you, he moves you fully onto his lap so your head would rest on his chest.
“We’re leaving soon,” He whispers. “I promise.” You feel his hand curl over the curve of your thigh and he gives it a slight squeeze.
Thinking you had fallen asleep, he rests his head against yours. “I love you,” He whispers. Much to his cluelessness, you were still awake and staring at the Christmas tree. You took him by surprise when you tilted your head back to look up at him. “Oh.. You were..”
“You don’t mean that, do you?” You whisper.
You can feel his heart beating wildly in his chest and his cheeks flush a light shade of pink. “I don’t expect you to feel the same way, I just wanted you to know.”
You smile and push yourself up onto a sitting position and twist your upper body so you’re facing him. “I love you too,” You whisper, your eyes flickering between his. You glance at his lips before looking back onto his eyes. His lips curve onto a smile and he draws you in for a kiss. A real kiss this time and not just one to play the part.
“You know.. I wouldn't mind making this real.” He says as he moves the ring on your finger with his thumb. “Or would it be too crazy?”
“More like insane,” You giggle. “But I wouldn't tell you no if you asked me.”
“Oh?” You nod your head and he hums. “Hmm, okay.” He says as he tugs the ring off of your finger. He holds it up between the two of you. “Y/N, I love you and if you’ll have me in this insane and spontaneous way, I would love to make you my wife.”
“And in this insane and spontaneous way, I would love to be your wife.” He chuckles and slips the ring back on your finger. “Take me home.” You say.
He lifts his arm and looks at the time on his watch. “Yeah, I’d say it’s about to head out.”
After saying your goodbyes, the two of you start to head out the front door when you notice snow lightly falling. You can’t help but smile and twirl in a circle on your way down the walkway. You catch Jake smiling with his hands stuffed into his pants pockets as he watches you. You stop twirling and walk back up to him.
“So I guess this isn’t the stupidest plan you’ve ever come up with.” You say as you wrap your arms around his neck. “Merry Christmas, Jake.”
He smiles and presses his lips to yours. “Merry Christmas.”
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seenoversundown · 22 days ago
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You're My Wishlist
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Jake x Charlotte (Fem OC)
Warnings: 18+ Smut (warnings will be towards the end so if you want to skip them) Fluff, Christmas Cheer, Family time, A bit of yearning - which is silly because you got him Char come on girl, Sentimental moments, Cute cute cute, silly post sex comments- we know how Jake is lets be honest. SMUT WARNINGS: Oral (M & F) Hands going places, Unprotected Sex (do as I say, not as I do - WRAP IT UP, KIDS) some light ass related things, a lot of sexy commentary, lingerie, Jake is a MAN 🤭 (Soft Dom)
Word Count: 5.8k
Summary: Jake and Charlotte spend their second Christmas together, but lucky for Jake, she has a special present for him waiting at home.
Author's Note: MERRY CHRISTMAS YA FILTHY ANIMALS- there was no chance that I wouldn't write something for the festive season, lets be real. I figured since Danny is rapidly approaching his time to shine, and we just left off with these two at Thanksgiving, I may as well wrap up the year with them one more time.
I hope you enjoy it!! This is absolutely not the last you'll be hearing from them- don't worry. They're sweet banter is just what we all needed for the holiday and to warm us up a bit! Okay okay, I can't wait to hear how you feel and I will see you on the other side! 🎄❤️
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A Nonsense Christmas - Sabrina Carpenter "You'll be Santa Claus and I'll be Mrs, I'll take you for a ride, I'll be your vixen."
It’s already our second Christmas we’re spending together, and getting to have him with me makes sitting with my parents a little more fun. He came with me last year, and it was one of the first times he really even met them, but thankfully, he’s so quiet and calm that they love him. 
This year is different because his parents decided to extend their little vacation and stay up here for Christmas. I think they missed all the boys last year, so now, we’re spending Christmas Eve with his family and Christmas Day with mine. It feels like we’re married already. 
The logistics of us spending both days together seemed ridiculous in my head— having to drive down and then back but having my car, and it was all just too much. I’m grateful that Jacob is the person he is; he switched the hours he was going to work with Josh so he could get me last night. 
After spending Thanksgiving with his family and then them being around since, today has been much less overwhelming. Getting to hang out with everyone is always so fun, even though we see most of them almost daily. It proves how attached Jacob and I are because we spend the entire time waiting for a reason to be next to each other.
This catches us up to where we are now; I don’t think he’s aware of how attractive he is, even when he’s not trying at all. He decided to wear the same outfit he wore when we kissed for the first time, whether he knew that or did it by accident— regardless, my mouth was watering over him. 
It’s just a flannel and jeans, really, but it’s how he looks in them. I just can’t help but think of how adorable he was that night anytime he wears even a variation of it. He’s actually a lot more covered than usual, but it’s only because of the cold. 
Now I’m standing here with his family, watching him from across the room, and I still get butterflies when I catch him staring back. I slide my phone out, quickly texting him. I know I could just go see him, but it’s more fun this way. 
Me: baby you look so good tonight 😍 
Seeing how he smiles at his phone before glancing at me, that man is mine. Mine, mine, mine. All mine. The smirk on his lips alone makes my knees weak. He looks back to his phone, typing quickly and then tucking it under his leg. 
Jacob 🖤:  just for you, beautiful 😘 
“So, how has work been for you?” His dad’s voice caught me off guard. 
“Oh!” I let slip out. I composed myself quickly and told him, “We’ve been so busy lately, but we were actually given a few days off because of the holidays, so I can’t complain.”
He chuckles to himself before quietly saying, “Hopefully, you get to enjoy your time off.”
With Jacob? Absolutely, I will. 
“How have things been for you?” I ask him. Listening as he tells me how they’re glad they stayed up here a bit longer, I see Jake walking over out of the corner of my eye. 
His arm slides around me, feeling his hand firmly planted on my side, keeping me close to him. I glance over at him, whispering, “Hi.” His little smile is enough of a response for me. 
His dad chimed in, mentioning something about the bar, but frankly, I was too focused on the handsome man I was attached to. 
Watching Jake as he starts telling him, “Yeah, actually, I just—“ 
And that’s about all I heard. I just stare absentmindedly at how his mouth moves when he talks or how he uses his hands. His fingers tap against me every so often as he explains things, but he always squeezes me or rubs my side when he stops. 
He glances over at me. “Well, I’ll let you two finish catching up, I think I’m being put on Santa duty this year.” Pressing a kiss to the side of my head, he carefully lets his hand run over my ass as he walks off.  
Santa, huh?
His mom sneaks over, her voice distracting me, “So, Jake said you’re seeing your parents tomorrow.” 
“Yes! They’re excited to see him, which is sweet.” 
“Oh, I’m so glad they like him,” she breathes out. A small giggle sneaks out of her as she tells me,  “I’m partial to him.”
“No, they love him,” I reassure her quickly. “I wasn’t super worried because he’s so laid back, but my parents being who they are definitely made me concerned for a minute.” My eyes go wide, and a slight cringe on my face. 
“Well, you never have to worry about us,” she says, grabbing my arm gently. “All of us love you and think you’re perfect for him.” 
“He’s pretty great,” I let out. Looking over at him again, I really do love him so much. “Hopefully, he keeps me around.” 
She laughs, which is oddly relieving. “Oh, don't be silly! Have you seen the way he looks at you? You’re not going anywhere, sweetheart.”
“Good,” I giggle out quietly. “That means we get to hang out more, too,” I whisper, gesturing between the two of us. 
Her arm wraps around me quickly, “That’s the best part about it, isn’t it?” 
I find myself watching him as I hang out with his parents and Quinn, just listening to them ask Quinn about school. Even just him sitting on the couch, with the glow of the Christmas tree, he isn’t doing anything in particular other than existing– he’s so fine. I slide my phone out subtly, texting him and then tucking it back under my arm. 
Me: What if i said i want you to unwrap me like a present and play with me? 🥰
I can see him fighting a smile as he peeks over at me, shaking his head subtly. Watching him blush over little things is my favorite hobby. I have found it really precious that even after a year, he still gets flustered easily. 
Jacob🖤: honey 
I send him a little wink before I run off to help his mom with some snacks in the kitchen. Spending time with her during holidays has really become one of my favorite things. She’s quite possibly the nicest person I’ve ever met— her kids are absolutely a product of that. 
She was so welcoming to me, even after the situation when we started dating. It was almost like she knew something must have been going on prior to me having a conversation with her one-on-one. Thankfully, we do get along incredibly well, and I couldn’t wish for a better potential mother-in-law. Just thinking that I could call him my husband one day makes me sweat. 
Wandering back into the living room, I watch him rearranging the gifts closer to where everybody has slowly been sitting down. He grabs the stockings that his mom put together for everybody, setting them with their piles of gifts. It only takes a minute of being himself before I slide my phone back out. 
He spends a few more minutes organizing everything before sitting back in his spot on the couch. He glances over to me, a little smile on his lips. I silently just shake my phone, watching his eyes move down and then grabbing it from his pocket. 
Me: I can put on some tall socks later and you can stuff me instead 🤭
His eyes get wide reading my text, shifting a little in his seat as he rubs his face to help prevent himself from reacting. How is he so—? Looking up at me, but his stare felt different. I swear I could see his pupils dilate from across the room. 
His quiet voice, barely legible through the chatter of everyone else, “Come here.” His hand patted his thigh as he told me, and if anything was going to light a fire in me, it was that. 
His hand slid around my waist as I sat down on his lap; there was absolutely plenty of space that I could just sit next to him, but this was definitely more fun. 
“You’re taking this whole Santa bit seriously, huh?” I ask him quietly. 
His giggle made his body shake a little as he leaned forward. His face turned so only I could hear him. His voice lowered when he asked, “Have you been a good girl?” 
My heart about stopped; oh my god. Without hesitation, I carefully cross my legs, unprepared for him to say something like that. I never expected that to be so sexy. 
“What’s wrong, Honey?” his question taunted, as his hand squeezes my thigh just hard enough to make me sweat. I may tease him through text, but the moment he opens his mouth, I’m done for. 
“Nothing, baby,” I tell him, a small smile forming on my face. “Just excited to give you a present I forgot at home.” 
His eyes bounced to my lips and back before letting out, “Can’t wait.” 
The sound of wrapping paper ripping distracted the both of us quickly. 
The difference between our families is wild to see. I don’t know if it’s because all three of the boys, when they were younger, just couldn’t stomach waiting, but their parents just let them go wild with opening things. I just kind of watch for a second as they’re all handing gifts back and forth and starting to open them. 
My family is way more quiet, and it was only my sister and I, which, given our age gap, made it a lot easier for us to take our time with Christmas gifts. They typically let me go first since I was younger and too excited, but everyone took turns, so it was a drawn-out process in our house. 
Their parents just watched as everyone started opening things, and the loud chatter only got worse with the mix of ‘Thank you’s. It’s easy to tell that they love spoiling their kids, but I think they just like getting to spend time with them since they’re all adults now. Seeing how their parents treat them– it makes sense why all three of them are the way they are.
Unwrapping a gift from his mom, a deep forest green knit sweater sits in my lap. It’s so soft. I looked over at her, and she already had eyes on me, apparently. 
“Thank you,” I tell her excitedly. “It’s so cute!”
She blows a kiss at me, “You’ll have to show me whatever outfit you put together.” She shoots me a little wink before turning to Sam as he starts to tell her something. 
I could just watch all of them interact with each other and be happy about it. The dynamic between all of them is just so loving and sweet. Knowing full well that when the boys were kids, I can only imagine that it was harder. But seeing everybody as adults, and especially since all of their boys now have partners to share the holidays with, it’s adorable to see how their parents act around them. 
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After a bit, everybody slowly started losing steam, so we took the chance to get out while we could. We both knew it would take a minute for us to be able to leave since we had to say ‘goodnight’ to everyone, even though we will see the bulk of them this week anyway.  The drive to my apartment felt like nothing, maybe because I was selfishly excited to just spend time with him alone.
 Staring at him while he drives is a gift on its own. His side profile could be hung in a museum. Listening to his soft little voice after hours spent surrounded by his family, it’s honestly comical how differently he has to speak when Sam and Josh are in the room. It’s not like we don’t see each other enough, but knowing we have to share our time with family, so of course, I’m going to eat up any second I have him to myself. Just getting to enjoy the feeling of his hand on my leg as he drives. But nothing beats the view of his hand gripping the steering wheel. Mmm. 
I’m not always proud of the fact that his hands were one of the first things I fully focused on when I met him, but they’re wildly nice. They’re also fairly large, which is baffling because he’s not a big man by any means. Even just getting a small glimpse of his wrist gets me going, his sleeve sliding down slightly. I don’t know what it is about him that makes this happen to me, but I’m not going to complain.
His other hand flexed on my thigh, watching the way his fingers pressed into my leg for a second, giving it a little squeeze; how he puts rings on when we have plans that aren’t just sitting in the bar because he’s definitely figured out that I’m obsessed with it. But honestly, it’s hard not to be obsessed. He can’t exist without casually touching me, which I still get butterflies from even after a year. The moment he sits in the driver’s seat, his hand searches for mine or my leg. If we’re out somewhere, he’s holding my hand, touching my back, pulling me closer to him so people can sneak by us, but leaving his hands wherever they’ve landed. 
“So, about this gift you forgot?” he softly asks, his thumb grazing over the back of my hand as he does. My head whips over to him– didn’t realize how zoned out I actually was.
I just hum back, “Mhmm?”
“Did you really forget or..” kept his voice low, but the little smirk on his lips sold him out. Oh, that little shit. He probably has spent the last couple of hours trying to decide what it is and, more than likely, is on the right track with it. 
Looking at the time and seeing that we’re almost to my apartment, I make the executive decision to rile him up a little more. 
I let out quietly, “It’s something I wouldn’t want your mom to see.” Reaching over and tuck some of his hair behind his ear so I have a clearer view of his sweet face. Even in the dark, I can see the red creep into his cheeks as it clicks in his brain. 
“I love you,” he giggles out, pulling my hand up to kiss the back of it a few times.  
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Once we’ve made it inside, dropping our bags that Jake insisted he could carry all of. I watch him plop himself down onto my couch, curling up with one of the throw pillows as he watches me put some of my things away. 
“Hey you,” he says, barely loud enough to get my attention. “You can clean tomorrow.” 
Pouting at him, I whisper back, “I only have like two more things.” 
“Well, hurry up,” he giggles, with a big cheesy grin on his face.  “I need to know what this gift is before I lose my mind.” I can feel the excitement radiating from him. 
“Ohhhh,” I teased him. “Just stay there for me– I’ll go get it.” Shooting him a little wink as I scurried off into my room.  
Pulling the lingerie from my drawer— there’s not much to it. Slipping on the bottoms before working on the top. I spent too much time scrolling, trying to find a cute Christmas set to surprise him, and with that, I ended up here. The bra basically just being a ribbon that you tie over your tits, dreading to admit that it is actually kind of cute once it’s on. I step in front of the mirror to make sure the bow is even. Oh, he’s going to lose his mind, regardless. 
Fluffing my hair up a little and reapplying some lipstick, I do one more little spin in front of the mirror before ripping the metaphorical band-aid off. 
“Baby,” I say loudly as I open my door. “Are you ready?” 
“I don’t know, am I?” 
I can’t help but giggle at his little voice. Telling him quietly, “Probably not.” Rounding the corner to my living room where he is. 
“Oh my–” falls out of him. His hand covering his mouth as he mumbles,  “Holy shit, Char.” 
“Worth the wait?” I ask quietly, feeling the blood rush into my face. Something about standing in front of him in this as he just stares at me makes my body feel warm. 
“I– um,” he hesitates as he stands up from the couch, taking a few steps over to me. His hands grab mine, and holding my arms out as his eyes take down my body. “You’re always gorgeous, but this is something.” 
“Oh, let me show you–” I spit out, starting to slowly spin around, still holding one of his hands.  
“Honey, fuck me,” he whispers. Just listening to him fall apart is already fun. “My god.” To be fair— the bottoms do not really cover much… which was probably a little mean of me. 
“Well, I just thought,” I start, stepping closer to him. “Since you work so hard—“ I adjust the collar on his flannel, trying to avoid eye contact with him because I know he’s already struggling. 
He raises his eyebrows but just hums back, “Mhmm.” 
My hands run down his chest as I keep going,  “And you do so much for me—“ I press myself into him, batting my lashes at him a few times. 
“Anything for you,” his eyes soften, but the little smile on his lips is devious. 
“And I love you so so much,” I tell him, running my finger down the slope of his nose and then holding the side of his face. Feeling his hands slide around my waist as I tell him, “You deserved something extra special for Christmas.” 
“Is that right?” He asks, his voice a bit lower. 
“Mhmm,” I hum back before whispering, “Whatever you want.” 
He leans in, kissing me gently before asking,  “You sure about that?” 
I just nod, wrapping my arms around his neck and walking him toward the couch. He sits down, pulling me into his lap. Instantly, his hands are sliding up my thighs.  
I move to straddle him, sitting up on my knees for a second, and I watch the gears in his head start turning. It takes less than a second before the cool air hits my skin. 
“Oops,” he lets out quietly, giggling to himself as the bow comes undone. His hands wrap around my rib cage, pulling me closer, leaving little kisses against my sternum. 
His hands move to grab my ass; his smirk into me is so cute, but it makes me nervous. Watching him not know what to do as he slides his hands up my body, giving my tits a little squeeze. 
I whisper, not to distract him too much, “I love when you’re like this.” 
“Yeah?” His eyes glance up at me as I’m still hovering over him a bit. 
“Mhm,” I hum. Deciding to lean into it a little, I tell him, “You’re always so gentle; it’s fun when you let loose a little.” 
His stare changed slightly, but a little smile crept onto his face.
“In that case,” he lets out, wrapping an arm around me, picking me up as he stands but quickly plopping me back down onto the couch and crawling over me, sliding his leg in between mine, pressing it against me when he leaned down to kiss me. Fighting every urge as the pressure alone already feels good. 
Leaving wet kisses against my neck, working his way down until I watch his face light up as he’s brushing his thumbs over my nipples. A small whimper sneaks out of me, which makes him look up. 
“Does that feel good?” he asks; the tone of his voice makes me shiver. He carefully rolls them between his thumb and index fingers, his jaw going a little slack while he stares at me. My legs twitch around his at the feeling. “Oh, it’s that good, huh?” 
All I can do is nod. My hands reach to grab his shirt, but he’s quick to grab my wrists, pinning them above me with one of his hands. My breathing is heavy as he hovers over me; he just stares at me for a minute. 
“You said whatever you want,” he whispers, leaning in close to my face. 
All I can manage is a small “mhm.” 
He brushes his lips over mine– his smile making my heart race. He lowers his voice when he tells me, “Then be a good girl and let me play with you.”
My hips defy me, grinding against his thigh as a quiet moan slips out. He’s so sexy, oh my god. 
“Oohh,” he coos, taunting me. “You do like when I call you that.” 
I just bite my lip gently as I look back at him. I don’t know what’s come over him but I’m not about to fight it. 
“Thought you got away with it earlier,” he says smugly. “I knew you crossed your legs because I made your pretty little cunt ache.”
My jaw drops at how he’s speaking, letting out a quiet “Jacob.” 
His sweet little laugh as he leans in to kiss me, feeling the smile against me, taking every chance to kiss his cupid's bow until he mumbles against me, “What, honey?” 
“You’re just,” I start, but the way he’s smiling at me makes my brain stall. “Um, you’re so—“ 
His little raspy voice chimed in, “Tell me.” 
I stare at him in awe; Jacob’s never like this, so forward. He giggles quietly at my lack of response, his free hand holding the side of my face, letting his thumb run over my cheek gently. 
“Mmm, that’s okay,” he whispers, his hand sliding down my neck until I feel him lightly trace circles around one of my nipples. He dips down, wrapping his lips around it, following that same circular movement with his tongue. A small groan comes from me at the feeling when he moves to the other side, teasing me the same way but quietly letting out a small ‘mmm.’  His lips leave a trail of wet kisses down the middle of my chest. 
“Keep these here, alright?” he whispers, squeezing my wrists a few times. I nod at him, biting the inside of my lip. Watching as he sat up, grabbing both of my legs and lifting them– blocking any view I had of whatever he was going to do. Until I feel his tongue flat against my clit, sending a shiver through my body. 
His mouth is warm against me, knowing all the right places to be, god he’s too good at this. The moans practically fall out of me when he slips one of his fingers inside. Years of working with his hands really are just a godsend for me– he can ruin my life with minimal effort. 
Pushing my legs closer to my chest, I feel his mouth moving lower. Um.. But he picks up the pace with his hand, and my mind goes blank again. 
“Mmm, baby,” I let out quietly. Feeling the little smirk on his face as he kisses the inside of my thigh. 
Gently biting at it before he tells me, “I have an idea.” 
Pulling me up to him, planting a kiss on me, and whispering, “Turn around for me.”  
I’ve never moved quicker– turning around and leaning down onto my elbows. The feeling of him gently sliding his hands over my legs gives me butterflies. His breath against my skin alone made me feel a bit desperate, knowing that I was littered with goosebumps. 
His lips made contact with my ass, leaving a few kisses on me before he mumbled, “God, I love you.”  
The gasp I let out when his fingers make contact with my clit, almost maddening how he knows just how to move to make everything feel better. Sliding them to feel how wet he’s made me, which he doesn’t have to try for that to happen. Just knowing he’s behind me is enough. 
Moans keep sneaking out of me, which only keeps him motivated. Feeling his free hand grabbing at my ass every so often, always following it with a small kiss until he just spreads me open.. holding it there for a moment. The cool air hit places I hadn’t anticipated, which felt oddly vulnerable. 
“Whatever I want, right?” he asks. 
I glance back over my shoulder slightly, “Mhm.” 
“You’re sure?” 
I give him a slight nod; what is he doing? 
Without hesitation, he flicks his tongue against my clit, making sweet little circles around it. Licking a wide stripe up, finding it harder to resist grinding against him. He lingers there for a second; I swear I can feel that he’s nervous. 
My jaw falls open as his tongue makes contact, not having felt anything like that before. He laps at me like he’s starving and slips one of his fingers back into me, pressing down as he does. Holy shit. 
“Baby– oh my god,” slips out louder than I wish it did. My hands are grabbing desperately at the couch cushion, not knowing what else to do. Truthfully, I’d never been comfortable enough with a man to let him near my ass like this, but Jacob is different. 
Pulled from my thoughts when his hand rapidly started rubbing my clit; the tension from my orgasm building about to burst. His tongue presses harder into me when it hits. A light layer of sweat covers me as my hands death-grip the couch. 
He whispers, “Stay right here for me, honey.” Luckily for him, I don’t think I could move if I wanted to. 
He’s only gone for maybe a minute before he’s sat in front of me, tucking some hair away from my face. He leans in, kissing my cheek a few times, mumbling, “I cleaned up, don’t worry.” I giggle into him, soaking up the feeling of his lips on mine. 
He slides the flannel off and then pulls his shirt over his head with one hand— no matter how many times I’ve seen him do that, it’s still hot. 
“Sit up for me,” he tells me. I turned to face him, still sitting on my knees. My hands flew to unbutton his jeans for him. Dragging them down his legs until his hand is holding my jaw, laughing into a kiss as he finishes pulling them off. “Mmm, open for me, yeah?” 
He stands fully; I can’t take my eyes off him. Watching him as he stroked himself a couple of times, and my mouth fell open like he asked. He slides himself in, and my lips wrap around him instantly. His hands hold the sides of my head as he starts gently thrusting himself into my mouth. 
I keep my eyes on his face— the way his eyes are closed and that delicious little pout of his.  Occasionally, his mouth falls open slightly, especially when he’s hitting the back of my throat gently. Listening to the little moans come from him, he sounds so sweet.
He pulls back completely, leaning down to kiss me— this man I swear. Grabbing me, he just picks me up, turning me to face the back of the couch. Instinctually propping my arms up on the back of the couch, I push my ass into him a little. 
Taking no time, he slides himself into me, slowly pushing his cock all the way in. Maybe he was onto something with the “cunt aching” thing because, good god, I needed that. 
He gently fucks me, his hips moving at a crawling pace. I let out a few small ‘mmm’s knowing that’s what gets him going; his hands squeezing my hips every time. 
“Mmm, my beautiful girl,” he lets out. My heart pounds at his voice. “Taking my cock so well.” 
“Jake,” I moan, unable to hold it in. Where has he been hiding all this? 
He leans over me, kissing my shoulder blade lightly. His hips stop moving for a second— just long enough for him to whisper, “If you want me to stop, just tell me. Okay?” And there’s my sweet Jacob again. 
Turning my face, so I can just barely see him. I open my mouth to respond to him, but the only thing that comes out is, “Oh.” His thumb lightly grazes my other hole, sending a chill through my body, and I can feel my face heat up. Why does that feel kinda.. 
“Is that okay?” He asks quietly. 
Shyly I mumble back, “um.. yes.” 
His hips start to move again as he gently adds pressure with his thumb— the moan coming out of me sounds feral. Holy shit. 
Every noise that escapes me makes him snap his hips harder into me. He grabs one of my hands, pulling it back towards him and resting it on his wrist before his thumb starts pushing a bit harder. 
The feeling of it starting to slip in, I can’t fight the gasp I let out. He keeps slowly pushing it further, and I have to admit that it feels good, littering the air with my moans, his hips slamming into me, and he finally slips his thumb into me. My hand grabs his wrist quickly at the feeling. 
“Hun—“ his voice sounds serious. 
My head falls back, the sweat starts forming again, and I tell him, “Baby, I’m close—“
He wraps his arm around me, pulling me up against him but gently moving his hand away. His face tucked into my neck, whispering, “Let me have it.” 
“Come with me,” I moan. 
He snakes his hand down, barely touching my clit, and I can already feel myself about to break. 
“Tell me where,” he says, his lips grazing the shell of my ear. My brain feels fuzzy as I try to focus on his voice, but the rest of him is driving me crazy. 
“Baby— fuck,” I spit out. “Come in me.” My body leans forward a little, my legs starting to shake as my orgasm hits. “Fuck, Jacob. Come, baby.” 
His hips are getting sloppy, and I can feel him release. His sweet moans littered the air, a slew of ‘fuck’s as he came down from it– leaving kisses on my shoulder when I heard him giggling. 
He backs up from me, but I feel something soft immediately covering me. What is he-? Glancing down, he’s holding his shirt against me so I can sit and not mess up my couch. Ew, I love him. 
“What are you on about, giggles?” 
He just smiles at me, shaking his head. 
“Jacob, you’re gonna end up telling me. Spit it out,” I say, laughing with him. 
“Hun, it’s just—“ he starts, cutting himself off with a laugh. I’d watch him smile like this forever, even if I never got the rest of his thought. “How am I supposed to look your parents in the eye tomorrow?” Laughing with him this time, he has a point. 
“It won’t be that bad..” I try to make him feel better. 
He wipes his hand over his mouth, looks at me, and fights his smile when he says, “Honey, please. I just ate your ass and came inside you— at what point is it not that bad?” 
“JACOB,” I bark out, my face heating up as I laugh. 
He walks back over, kissing the top of my head before mumbling, “Come on, you– let’s get you cleaned up.” 
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I come out into the living room after showering, and he’s already sitting on the couch. Just seeing him comfortable and not actively checking on the bar is nice. 
Naturally, I’m crawling into his lap; nothing is better than being close to him. He would just pull me into him anyway. 
“I have something for you,” he whispers. 
“Oh?” 
“Mhmm. Here,” he says, handing me a small present. 
Quickly peeling back the wrapping paper, a small ornament is sitting in my hands. A little gold frame that looks vintage, with a cute picture of us from a date night a few weeks ago. 
We found a little Christmas market that was going on in Portland and of course, they had so many cute background options. This specific photo was one of the last ones we took because we were both cold and getting delirious, which you can tell by the way he squished my face a little in his hand as he kissed me. It’s my favorite one; he looks so happy even if I forced him into a million pictures that night. 
Flipping it over, I noticed that he put the year in the bottom corner but wrote, ‘one more?’ in the middle because I definitely asked him every photo if we could just take ‘one more.’
“Jacob,” I whisper, my throat a little tight at how sweet he is. “I love it— I love you.” 
He kisses the side of my head gently, “I’m glad— I love you so much.” 
I stand up from him, walking right over to the skinny tree I have decorated and rearranged a few things to be able to hang this one up. 
Standing back and looking at it, my eyes tear up a little. I take a deep breath as I stare at it; I don’t know what I did to deserve this man. Feeling his arms slide around me and his face tuck into my neck, pressing a little kiss into the side of it. 
“Merry Christmas, honey,” he whispers, letting his lips rest on my cheek, and I can feel the smile on his face. 
I lean back into him, my heart fluttering because I absolutely just fell in love with him all over again. I turned to look at him, his eyes sparkling from the lights on the tree. Nothing will ever compare to this feeling. If he only knew that he’s the greatest gift I’ll ever get.  I lean in, pressing a kiss against his lips and whispering, “You too, baby.” 
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FDOG Master Post | Masterlist | Playlist
Sam & Willa : Sparrow Of The Dawn
Josh & Quinn : Amongst The Stars
Danny & Melody : Come Back For Me
Caravel Tavern 😉
Taglist:
@gvfsstardust @myleftsock @dont-go-home-without-me @literal-dead-leaf
@lizzys-sunflower @mackalah @klarxtr @edgingthedarkness @writingcold
@takenbythemadness @earthgrlsreasy @peaceloveunitygvf
@josh-iamyour-mama @anythingforjtk
@broken0mens @whereiskeara @gvf-luna @katuschka @threadofstars @i-love-gvf
@jazzyfigz @smoking-jakelane @gretavanfan @scoreofinfantryvines
@demonrat444 @hollyco @ourlovesdesire
@musicspeaks @wrldabomination @chloeshell1219
@becinabubblegvf @sanguinebats @lallisonl
@nicoleghost18 @lightmy-love @myownparadise96 @cheersdannyx2
@musicislove3389 @allof--mylove @hailthegodsong @fleetingjake
@Mohollandtx @hearts-hunger
72 notes · View notes
bumblesimagines · 1 year ago
Note
i had a great time.
maybe you should go.
Maddy Perez
maybe you should go.
i had a great time.
Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader
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You and Lexi shared many similarities as twins. There was the shared love for literature and theater, the longing for Suze's attention, the bitter resentment toward Gus for leaving and never saying goodbye, the feeling of constantly being in Cassie's shadow, and of course, similar physical features.
But, like other siblings, you and Lexi were also vastly different.
Lexi preferred her solitude. She could spend hours alone in her shared bedroom on her laptop creating screenplay after screenplay in an online document. She was clumsy and awkward and despite her writing skills, she had trouble speaking to others without stammering or tripping over her words. Behind nearly every decision and action Lexi made had been a thought-out plan filled with 'what ifs'. You preferred leaps of faith into the unknown where the end destination wasn't visible until the last second. More often than not, you were left scrambling to ensure your ass wouldn't be toast.
Like the night after a party at a classmate's place when you woke up at home in your cozy bed with the slim body of your sister's closest friend cuddled up at your side and you left to stare at the ceiling debating your choices.
On one hand, Maddy Perez was bitchy and confident enough to pretend nothing ever happened between you and her. On the other hand, Nathaniel Jacobs had enough privilege to get away with murder if she ever let it slip. 
So, there you remained, staring up at the ceiling and rethinking the life choices that led up to that moment. If only you hadn't agreed to go to the party with the girls. If only you hadn't agreed to Elliot's stupid challenge of flirting with Maddy to see what the school's queen bee would do. If only you'd encouraged the girls to head to their respective homes instead of crashing at the Howard residence. Then maybe, just maybe, you wouldn't be wondering what the hell Nate Jacobs would do to you if he ever found out you slept with his girlfriend. It wasn't as if you could sneak out and play dumb if she asked. She was in your bed, in your house.
Craning your neck to take a peek at her when she began to stir, you finally noticed her messy appearance. Her maroon lipstick had smudged considerably and from the red markings scattered across your skin, you could only assume how it'd happened. Her glittery, silver makeup appeared in a similar state, and the glitter smudged against your skin, twinkling with the sunlight that poured in from the window. Her hair was in the worst state you'd ever seen it in, and you found your gaze drawn to the light markings on her neck and shoulders. Her dark eyes fluttered open and for the first time since entering high school, you found yourself hoping for some disgust or repulsion in them. But instead, a yawn escaped her lips and she tiredly rubbed at her eyes.
"Morning." You murmured a bit awkwardly and dragged yourself up to rest your back against the headboard. She snorted quietly and brushed her raven hair out of her face, somehow still looking like a model. "About last night-"
"I had a great time. I never thought Cassie's little brother would have it in him. " Maddy began with a coy grin and you waited for a 'but' to follow. "We should do this again sometime." She purred instead and planted a kiss on the corner of your lips. You could practically feel your ego growing, but they weren't the words you wanted to hear from someone whose boyfriend had no problem with destroying the lives of those who even looked at her twice.
"Right." You forced a chuckle. Fuck. "I had a good time too, Mads, but I-I think maybe you should go or at least sneak into the girls' room before they wake up. I just... I think Cassie might get upset if she finds out and I, uh, I don't want to get you in trouble with Nate either." 
She blinked at you and then blinked again. Her perfectly plucked brows slowly furrowed and the tips of her lips dragged downward. You couldn't quite tell what the look on her face meant. Was she disappointed? Hurt? Sad?
"You're kicking me out?" Ah. Of course, she was offended. Maddy getting turned down was an occurrence that only happened on blue moons and even then, whoever rejected her would only end up taking it back moments later. 
"Maddy, I really think it's for the best. This will only end up hurting us both in the end." You tried again, speaking softly as if it'd do anything to convince her.
"And what if I don't care? What if I want to continue this?"
342 notes · View notes
lilyflowerstories · 1 month ago
Text
These Violent Delights
Pairings: Jacob Black x Reader, Edward Culled x Reader
Summary: Y/N Swan is just like every other girl and she likes it that way. Normal is fantastic. Normal creates a functioning member of society. Normal is the reason she moved to a small town to live with her police officer father... only to find out that she gets the farthest thing from what she wanted. // Twilight Re-Write.
Warnings for the series: light violence, light angst, light smut
Word Count: 3.4k
| Part 1 | Part 2 |
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The entirety of the lunch period, you couldn’t find the stomach to eat much. Your bowl of tomato soup only had a few spoonfuls taken out of it. But all the saltine crackers were gone. You had gone over and over in your head what you would say to Edward. Now that he was here, you couldn’t remember anything. You had never been in a real confrontation anymore. You took a glance at his table again. 
He looked different than before. Not terribly different, but enough that you noticed. His skin looked less pale and less stretched over his skeleton. The dark circles underneath his eyes aren’t there anymore either. Now, you could see why people said he looked perfect. 
The bell rang and you silently cursed. You couldn’t have been given more time? Reluctantly, you went with Eric and Mike to your biology class. Eric and you looked over when Mike started frantically digging in his backpack. 
“Ah, shit. Hey, tell Mr. Donoghue that I left my textbook in my car and I’m going to get it.” 
“Okay.” 
Mike ran as fast as possible while the two of you continued going to class. Eric sighed before turning to face you as you stood right in front of the doorway to bio class. 
“Hey, so, about prom, I’m the one in charge of communicating with the dj. I’ve lived my whole life here so I know my music choice sucks so I’m gonna need your playlist.” 
“Okay, when?” you asked as you pulled out yout phone to jot down that note. 
“As long as it’s before the month ends, that’s cool. And then dates…  I was wondering do you think Ang—” 
“How you liking the rain, Arizona?” Mike shook out his baseball cap that got soaked in the rain from the run to his car. 
“Guys! Class is about to start. Please take your seats,” Mr. Donoghue cut off whatever Eric was trying to say. If it was important, he’d get back to you later. 
Unfortunately, his lab partner and your lab partner were back so you had to sit with Edward Cullen. There was a slight smile on his face as you walked towards your lab bench. Before you got a chance to say the prepared speech, he spoke. 
“Hello. I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself the other day. I’m Edward Cullen.” His voice was smooth like coffee and somewhat low in its sound. “You’re Y/F/N Swan, right?”  
“Y/N.” 
You didn’t give him a chance to say anything else, turning your head to listen to Mr. Donoghue’s lesson. He must have been in cahoots with the universe because his assignment was partner work. The prize? A golden onion that has no value until he comes up with what it stands for. At least only one person could look through the microscope at a time. Edward pushed the device towards you. 
“Ladies, first.” 
“Why were you gone?” You looked in the microscope. “And it better be a good answer too… It’s prophase.” 
“Mind if I check?...Yeah, I was out of town for a couple days. It’s prophase.” 
“Like I said and the empty chair next to me told me that much.” 
“Personal reasons.” 
“Do personal reasons involve rude interactions?” 
“Uh, no. I’m sorry about that. It wasn’t the best day for me before you showed up to class.”  
“Apology accepted, I guess.” 
“So are you enjoying the rain?... What?”
You tried to stop laughing. “You’re asking me about the weather?” 
“Yeah, I guess I am.” 
“Well, no, not really. I’m not really a fan of any cold or wet place.” 
Edward chuckled as he checked another slide. 
“What?” 
“Nothing.” He shook his head. “It’s anaphase.” 
“Mind if I check… Anaphase.” 
“Like I said,” he joked. “If you don’t like the rain then why did you move to the wettest place in the continental United States?” 
“Baseball.” 
“Baseball? It’s also anaphase. Do you want to check it?” 
“No, I believe you.” 
Edward listened intently as you retold your story to yet another person about why you were in Forks, asking questions when necessary. You guys continued to do your work and talk. He carried the golden onion prize as he escorted you to your locker. 
“Why didn’t you move with your mother and Phil?” 
“Moving once means moving again. Phil could get a second contract next year and we’d be in California or Maine or some stupid place like Delaware.” 
“But now you’re unhappy staying here?” 
“It’s complicated.” 
Edward paused. “I’m sorry, I’m asking too much. I’m just trying to figure you out. You’re very difficult for me to read.” 
“Well, asking questions like a normal human bei— hey, did you get contacts?” 
“No.” 
“I swear your eyes were black last time I saw you, now it’s like a golden brown color.” 
“Uh, no. It’s the fluorescents.” 
He walked away before you could say anything else. You didn’t see Edward until school ended and you went to your truck. He and his siblings seemed to be looking directly at you but you thought you were just being paranoid. You turned back around to dig through your bag for your keys. The screeching of tires caught your attention but it was too late. Tyler’s van was barrelling towards you and your feet couldn’t seem to move. 
Now was not the time to find out that your flight or fight response was the dreaded third option of freeze. You could see Edward, four cars away, staring at you in horror. His mouth dropped open. The same as all the other faces that were about to witness your death. Almost everything moved in slow motion.
The hunk of blue metal slid towards you, you felt something grab your waist, you were pulled down to the ground, and a pale hand was on the van that wasn’t hitting you. You stared at the dent in the metal caused by the hand before turning your head to make eye contact with Edward. 
He stared at you for a moment before letting go of you and running away. You were suddenly surrounded by people asking if you were alright. None of them seemed to have noticed Edward wasn’t there. The next thing you knew, you blacked out. 
The lights of the hospital were blinding when you finally came to your senses. The door opened with a vengeance and in strolled your very anxious father. He wouldn’t calm down no matter how much you tried to speak with him, threatening Tyler’s license and everything. It’s not like it was his fault his tires skidded on ice. You mouthed an apology before shutting the small curtain that divided the two hospital beds. 
“Dad, Dad I’m fine. Okay? I was lucky that Edward was there, no injuries.” 
“Edward?” Charlie turns to Dr. Cullen. “Your boy?” 
You cut in before the doctor could even get the chance to say anything. It seemed like he was going to lie. 
“Yeah, he got to me so quickly.” 
Dr. Cullen gave you a tight smile. “It sounds like you were very lucky. You just need to sign some paperwork, Charlie, and then you are good to go.” 
After Charlie signed the paperwork, he went to warm up the car before we had to drive to the school to get my car and then drive home. You turned the corner to one of the vending machines when you stopped after seeing Carlisle, Edward, and Rosalie talking with each other. It didn’t seem like a friendly conversation either. They were definitely arguing. As if they could hear you just breather, the three of them turned towards you. 
“Can I talk to you for a minute?” you asked. 
Edward looked reluctantly as he made his way towards you. “What?” 
“How did you get over to me so quickly?” 
“Y/N, what are you talking about? I was standing right next to you.” 
“No, you weren’t. Don’t try to lie through this either. You were across the parking lot. I know what I saw.” 
“And what was that?” 
“You stopped the van with your hand.” 
Edward’s somewhat amused face turned cold. “Well no one is going to believe you anyway. Can’t you just thank me and we just drop it?” 
“Thank you.” 
“You aren’t going to let this go, are you?” 
“Not at all,” I tell him, determined. 
“Well, I hope you enjoy disappointment.” 
You went home that night with more questions than answers and the oddly sneaking suspicion that someone was watching you. You went to the bathroom and took your shower while thinking about how Edward stopped the van. So far, you had no concrete answers. You went to bed without any answers as well. Although you did wake up in the middle of night after having a strange dream about Edward. 
You tried to not think about that as you went to school the next day. The buses were already up front when you parked, ready for the field trip that you were positive wasn’t going to be very fun. Edward and his siblings, Alice and Jasper, walked past you. Mike popped up in front of you. 
“Hey, you’re alive, Arizona!” 
“You need more than a van to take me down.” 
The two of you laugh as you hi-fived. 
“So I was wondering, are you going to prom?” 
“Um, I don’t know yet. Charlie said I get two free no questions asked days if I go but me and dancing… it’s not pretty.” 
“Well, do you know if Jess is going?” 
“Mike!” you gasped. “Are you trying to ask Jessica out?” 
“Lower your voice, please. Okay, I may have had a small crush on her since we were seven and I am choosing to ask out my very good friend to prom.” 
“She’s going. I’m going dress shopping with her and Ang next weekend.” 
“Okay. Okay, cool.” Mike walked off before coming right back. “Do you think she likes me?” 
“Most definitely.” 
“Sweet. Thanks, Y/N/N. You’re the best.” 
He got on one of the buses while you got on the other. Tyler sat next to you, plugging your headphones into the jack on his phone. You nodded along to Blue October’s “Hate Me” as it played. The two of you didn’t talk at all but stared out the window like you were in a music video and listened to music until you reached your destination. 
The greenhouse was… interesting. That was the nicest way you could put it. Maybe it would have been nicer if you all weren’t cramped in the small walkway between the plants. Mr. Molina and Mr. Donoghue were trying their hardest to get people to water the plants or give them soil. 
“Now, I’m gonna make a steaming cup of compost tea.” 
He handed it to Eric. You laughed as you heard a very panicked yell. 
“No! Don’t drink it! It’s for the plants.” 
“What’s a no questions asked day?” a deep voice behind you asked. 
You nearly jumped out of your skin. Turning around, you saw the classic peacoat and never out of place hair of Edward Cullen. When had he even come up behind you? 
“You know you’re not helping your case. How’d you even hear that?” 
“You didn’t answer my question.” 
“Dude, you never answer any of mine. You don’t even say hi.”
“Hi.” 
“Please try to act less like a human. Are you gonna tell me anything? Preferably about the other day.”  
“Yeah. I had an adrenaline rush,” he said clinically. “It’s very common. You can Google it.” 
You paused and looked at him. “You’re a terrible liar. And a no question day is when I tell Charlie I need to do something or go somewhere and he asks no questions. It’s a mutual trust betwe—” 
You tripped but felt air and two cold hands grab you instead of feeling your face kiss pavement. 
“Careful,” Edward said as he set you upright again. 
“Thanks. So are you going to answer any of my other questions?” 
“Um. Ma—” 
“Y/N/N!” Jess stepped in between you two. “Guess who just asked me to prom?” 
Edward took the opportunity to slip away. 
“Who?” you feigned ignorance. 
“Mike! I’ve been hoping since forever but like he actually asked me.” 
You and Jess talked the entire way out of the greenhouse and onto the buses, forgetting about Edward and wanting to ask him more questions until it was too late. You weren’t going to think about him for the rest of the day. You had a father-daughter/mother-son date with Charlie, Jacob’s mom, and Jacob. Which meant going to a restaurant because both Charlie and Sarah worked long hours and weren’t going to cook. And Billy was doing his physical therapy for walking so there was no way anyone would force him to cook. 
You went to pick up Jacob at his school while his mom picked up Charlie from the station. He was still inside when you reached the school. It felt stupid signing the visitors clipboard when the school day was already over but you did it anyway just in case. When you made it to a hangout area for students you spotted Jake with his friends. 
You’d like to say they were your friends too but you never got very close with them over the summer. Embry usually went somewhere with his mom, Quil’s grandfather kept inside most of the time, and Seth had sports.
And their acquaintances you knew even less. Paul and Jared were always one grade level above you all and hung out with themselves. Sam didn’t seem to like any of you despite being only a couple years older than you and having even a smaller age gap with Paul. And Leah didn’t come around because either her loser younger brother was there or Sam was there which sucked because you wanted another girl around. 
“Hey, Y/N,” Embry said as you turned the corner. 
“Hi, guys. Jake, you ready?”  
“Yeah. See you guys later.” 
He nodded at his friends before getting up to stand next to you. Your fingers twitched as he intertwined them with his own. He rolled his eyes at the wolf whistles from his friends, laughing when you threw up a middle finger while the two of you walked away. 
“So where are we going?” you asked. 
“Who picked last summer?” 
“Charlie.” 
“Oh, nice, so it’s my turn.” Jacob looked something up on his phone. “Smuggler’s Bar and Grill, sound good? It’s in Port Angeles though.” 
You shrugged. “Eh, I’ve already finished all my homework and Charlie doesn’t go back to work until the graveyard shift. Go ahead and text them our choice.” 
Your truck pulled out of the school parking lot and headed towards the highway. Jacob fiddled with the radio for at least one decent station while you drove the hour it took just to get to Port Angeles. Honestly, you didn’t mind the time. The drive, surrounded by trees, was comforting. Especially with your best friend. 
If you and Jake weren’t singing to songs, you were gossiping about school. There was no need to catch up on anything else. Jake was one of the few people you texted nearly everyday despite being so far away most of the year — including the fact that he had a secret girlfriend for three years. Whenever he wanted to get her a present, he would text you what it was and would pretend he was sending it to you so Billy and Sarah wouldn’t get suspicious. It worked. They didn’t find out even after the two broke up. 
You guys pulled into the restaurant and waited for your parents to show up. Like you predicted, Sarah already analyzed the entire menu and knew what she wanted to order. Jake held up his phone. 
“They said they’re twenty minutes away and the food takes that long to prepare so order for them.” 
“I’m surprised she got Charlie to pick something ahead of time.” 
The two of you went in and got a table like they said. The host smiled a bit too sweetly as they called over a waiter. You and Jacob looked at each other and came to the same conclusion at the same time, silently gagging. There was no way they thought that you guys were on a date. Absolutely not. Was it because you were holding hands? The two of you pulled apart but the damage was already done. 
The waiter sat you down at what you could tell was the restaurant’s nicest booth by the best window that would let you look out onto the water. He handed you the menus and left to give you alone time to think. 
“Just gross, no offense,” you said. 
Jacob shrugged. “None taken. I would never date you, you’re, like, my friend.” 
“Same. Too weird… Do you think they’ll give us free dessert if we are though?” 
“Do you want to play it up?” 
“Absolutely.” 
Jacob gave you a smile you had never seen before but assumed he must have given to his girlfriend. He laid his hand across the table for you to grab. You took it with no problem — Jake’s hands were always warm and still a bit soft since he wore gloves when he worked on cars and bikes. His thumb stroked the back of your hand and he set the menu down to look at you. Almost like magic, or like they’ve been secretly watching, the wait staff came over. 
“Are you two ready to order?” he asked as he set down two glasses of water. 
“Ladies first,” Jake let go of your hand, ready to scoop up your menu when you finished speaking. 
“Um, does the shrimp scampi have a smell?” you asked in fake concern, hoping the waiter would catch on to teen angst of potential bad breath before a first kiss. 
“Oh, no, I got you, honey.” He had a noticeable southern accent. “What do you want to drink?” 
“Iced Tea, please. Oh, and a Caesar salad with ranch dressing.” 
“Got it. And for the young sir?”
“I’ll take the Not Your Mother’s Mac and Cheese along with a lemonade. Oh, and our parents are chaperoning but they’re a little late. Can we get them one clam chowder and one Hawaiian chicken sandwich both with Ruby tonics? What is a ruby tonic?” 
“Oh, I’m so glad you kids are too young to know what it is. Your food will be ready in a minute.” 
He took the menus and walked away. You could hear him gossip to the rest of the staff about chaperones. Jacob grabbed your hand again, giving it a peck. 
“You know he’s totally gonna bring you breath mints. Did you really ask if the shrimp would smell?” 
“Hey, I had to sell it. What brand do you think it’ll be?” 
Jake kissed your hand again. “Lifesavers. They scream not obvious for teenagers asking.” 
“You say this from experience?” 
“Ehh with Elle a couple of times.” 
“Really? I can’t believe you had your first kiss and girlfriend and I couldn’t even get a date for homecoming. You’re still a virgin right?” 
“Yes. I am still a loser virgin.” 
“Hey, I’m a virgin.” 
“Well then in that case virginity rocks.” 
You and Jacob cheered and clinked glasses before laughing when you were unable to hold it anymore. He moved over to your side since the two of you would have to be sitting together anyway once Charlie and Sarah showed up. He took the opportunity to sling his arm around you while you snuggled up to him. The two of you could clearly hear awes. 
“If we actually get free dessert,” Jacob whispered. “We need to do this more often.”  
Your parents came in exactly when the food came out. They looked at the two of you weirdly as you awkwardly broke apart. You shook your head before Charlie could say anything. They went with it like you had asked.  Your parents could do absolutely nothing but shake their heads and smile as the waiter brought out free cinnamon rolls in to-go boxes for not just you and Jacob but for the “chaperones” as well. 
You guys left a generous tip, cleaned up the table, and left the restaurant. You and Jacob clinked the to-go boxes together. 
“Here’s to fake boyfriends.” 
“Here’s to fake girlfriends.”
✿ ✭ ☾ ✿ ✭ ☾ ✿ ✭ ☾ ✿ ✭ ☾
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eff4freddie · 9 months ago
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Touch | Part Six
Words: 5.8k
Just as you approach something resembling contentment, this broken world will exact its toll.
Warnings: smutty smut, trauma, grief, Joel hasn't come to terms with what happened in Salt Lake, Joel is bad at feelings, but pretty good with his hands. Minors DNI.
Part Five | Series Masterlist | Part Seven
You were busy again, the new table earning its keep almost immediately, and the ease that you moved around your treatment room, the way that you could bend without reaching over, push with your weight rather than your wrists, meant that you could concentrate more, heal more effectively. You hadn’t realised how much the clumsiness of the old dining table had been holding you back. Every day that you used it, you wanted to find a new way to thank Joel. Maybe even sometimes, with all of your clothes on.
Except that the idea also terrified you, in a way that you were struggling to really understand. The idea of him, of being naked with him, not that you really fully had been, of kissing him even, no that you had, was enough to send an absolute riot of butterflies careening through your guts and down into your legs, into your knees. The idea of him scared you, his reputation proceeded him, and you kept thinking of how wary Maria was, how protective Ellie seemed to be, how sweetly oblivious Tommy was most of the time which you were beginning to suspect was actually a choice. You wanted to pull them all into a room and forensically map out who the fuck Joel Miller actually was. You were aware you were thinking like a crazy person. You didn’t care.
Because then when he was with you, when you fell into his orbit, looked into his eyes, there was something heavier and realer and more tangible than your stupid, flighty, squawking fears. It worried you, that he made you into a different person when he was around you. You weren’t sure what that person was capable of getting up to, left to her own devices, but you had an inkling.
You knew that you were pushing him away, pushing it all away, because it scared you, but also it felt like the only sane thing to do, had kept you alive for years and years, had meant that when you lost people it hurt less, maybe. Being busy again, and fairly invested in maintaining your denial for as long as you could manage it, you got back to your usual routine of seeing the broken and weary people of Jackson early, before the work hours, and then steadily throughout the day. It afforded you the illusion of being sociable, of contributing to the community, without having to actually be in it. Without Ray and Marla, with Maria and Tommy wrapped up in the baby, with Joel being…Joel, you had collected a long list of clients and a dwindling list of friends. It could have made you sad if you thought about it, so you didn’t, and you were too busy anyway, and how could you be lonely with all these people in your house?
Besides which, in the quiet moments you could feel the tension in people, the uneasiness woven tight into the musculature of most of the residents you now saw. Not everyone knew Marla or Jacob or the others personally, not everyone even necessarily liked them, especially not fucking Jacob, but everyone had an investment in their safe and hopefully bountiful return.
To escape it, you went for long walks along the foreshore of Jackon’s lake at the bottom of the township, until the dying light forced you back. You were there, hands in the freezing water feeling out for flat stones you could warm in hot water and press into particularly assertive muscle knots, when you heard the yelling. You were up and sprinting, the twisty and icy path underneath you occasionally threatening to boot you into the snow, and if you’d had time to think about it you have marvelled at the difference in your reaction from Joel and Ellie’s homecoming to this one. The elation you felt at their return, the relief of it, not just for you and Marla and Ray, but for Jackon. For what it meant for this community. For your community.
Trying not to knock yourself out on the way to the gate meant that you didn’t initially notice the quiet. There was a smattering of people still out despite the cold, the encroaching darkness, but they weren’t rushing forward, weren’t really helping the returned residents, were in fact milling around, some just standing in quiet observance, and it occurred to you for a second that they were like onlookers at a funeral. You pushed forward into the crowd, trying to see past unmoving shoulders, past still bodies, moving towards the sounds of horses, of panting breaths you weren’t sure belonged to whom.
And then you arrived at the front, and you had a clear view. And you realised the panting breaths were your own.
There were only two horses, and only three riders. Marla at the reigns of one, Jacob slung over the back of her saddle, slumping over at an odd angle, his head rolled back in a way that you thought would really strain his cervical spine, until you realised he was tied to the horse, had been roped around Marla’s midsection, that he was nearly as pale as the snow around you, that he was very dead. The other rider stared, unblinking, into the distance and was eventually helped down and led to the infirmary, not ever having said a word.
Marla had seen you, had watched you fight your way to the front of the crowd, had searched you out. She was shivering, a splatter of blood across her chest and under her neck, and you couldn’t tell if it was hers or if it was Jacob’s or someone else’s entirely, and in that moment staring into her eyes you knew that it didn’t matter, that it would never matter, that whatever damage it was it had already been calculated, tallied, on a ledger somewhere none of you would ever be able to balance.
You motioned to a few of the men around you, gesturing to the ropes around Marla’s middle. ‘Cut him loose,’ you said, in a voice you didn’t recognise, and reached your arms up to hold Marla’s hand. You held it, limp and contrite in yours, while Jacob’s body was freed from hers. When he was lifted away she slumped forward, her back having held his weight for god knows how long, and you caught her, pulled her down from the horse on wobbling legs, let her crumple underneath you and set her down onto the pavement. Someone pulled a blanket over her shoulders and you held her in it, gripped her hard and tight and let her shake in your arms. You looked up into the eyes of Ray, who looked like he might throw up or pass out or both, and you pulled him down with you, wrapped him around her while he cried into her hairline, and you watched as the horses were led away.
‘Did you bring anything?’ someone asked from the crowd, quiet but hopeful, and you wanted to reach up and slap them for every moronic word they had dared speak into existence, had thought to utter in this sacred space of abject loss.
Marla never answered, and you squeezed her. She twisted in your arms to look up at you, an angry purple and yellow bruise forming having formed under her eye. You turned to Ray. ‘Help me get her to mine,’ you said.
--
You had the fire going, and you pushed your old armchair right up to it, folding Marla into it under a sea of blankets. Ray went to get something to bring her from the mess hall, something warming but easy to chew, and you perched beside her, slid down until her knees were in your lap and she was resting her head against the wing of the chair, and you stared, together, into the fire.
‘We barely made it back,’ she whispered, her voice dry, her lips chapped and windburned. You stayed still, not wanting to shake her, not wanting to do anything that might stop her from talking. ‘Rode through, all night. I wanted to bring him back, bring them all but I could only get him.’
‘Was it raiders?’ you asked, and she shook her head.
‘Both,’ she said, and you didn’t understand. ‘Raiders that had…kept a few clickers, had them locked up, had them uhhh…weaponised.’
You shuddered. ‘Like pets?’ you asked.
‘Like torture devices,’ she simply replied. You contemplated this for a second, couldn’t imagine it, the terror of being faced with that choice: raider or runner.
‘We got within a few hours of where we thought the pharmacy was,’ she went on, her voice catching. She continued to shake, her hands tremoring underneath the blanket, and you tried to tuck her in tighter, tried to warm her up. ‘We’d gone through a valley, ended up on the other side of a glade, it would have been so beautiful in the before times. We found a farmhouse, looked abandoned. Wasn’t.’
She was jiggling her foot and you put your hand out to hold it, feeling that her socks were wet. ‘By the time we realised they were already on us, were ready, had seen us coming.’
She looked at you, tears forming in her eyes. ‘They tried to lock us in the cage with them,’ she swallowed. ‘Jacob was really brave, fought them hard, stopped them from putting us in.’
If cold had gotten into her boots she must have been freezing, was risking losing a toe. You lifted the blankets to pull at her sock, putting your hand on her bare skin to warm it.
‘But one of them, two of them maybe, they got out,’ she continued. You held the ball of her foot in your hand, rubbing your thumb over the top of her foot in what you hoped were comforting little circles.
‘I just wanted to get him back here,’ she said, just as you felt it, a raised, rough ridge on her ankle, tendrils of heat snaking up her shin. You threw the blankets back, saw the bite there, the way the ropes of twisting fungus had already started their march up to her heart. You froze, your terrified eyes snapping to her wet, sorry, scared ones.
‘Don’t let Ray do it,’ she said.
--
It didn’t matter that you hadn’t been there before, you knew where it was. You wrapped on the door so hard you would later discover the skin on your knuckles had split. All you could hear was the ringing in your ears, your vision narrowed down to a pinprick, the look on Marla’s face so drawn, so scared, so resolute, imprinted on the inside of your eyelids. You kept wrapping, hopping from side to side, your tears mingling with the frigid air. You called for him on his front porch, your voice high and choking on the fear, on the grief in it.
He'd wrenched the door open, having pulled his boots on but not yet done up the laces, the furrow in his brow deep, his eyes wild when he clocked you, when he checked your six.
‘Jesus, are you? What is it?’ he spluttered, and you couldn’t let him finish, had to get the words out in case they poisoned you.
‘She’s bit, Joel,’ you spat out, watching his face fall.
‘Who, Ellie?’ he asked, panic rising in his voice, and you choked out a sob, shaking your head fiercely. He grabbed you by both shoulders, bending down to look you in the eye. You shook underneath him, wanted to launch yourself into his chest and bury yourself in it.
‘Marla,’ you said, shivering so hard your jaw was barely cooperating. ‘She came back bit.’
‘Where is she?’ he asked, and you told him. You’d locked her in your treatment room. She hadn’t turned yet, and you figured there was still an hour or two, maybe. The tremors you’d thought were the cold, shock.
‘Please, Joel,’ you said, and he was already heading back into the house to grab his rifle. Tears were streaming down your face now, your knees threatening to give. ‘Please be kind about it.’
He pulled you in, off his porch and into his living room. Set you down on the rug beside the fire.
‘I’ve got you,’ he said. ‘You stay here, you stay warm. You wait for me. You don’t come lookin’, you hear me?’
You nodded, and he shook his head at you. ‘Repeat it,’ he said.
‘I won’t come looking,’ you said, quiet and desperate like a child. He nodded, then, his rifle slung over his shoulder. You took a long breath in, felt the burn of it down your chest and into your lungs. Felt the electricity crackle between the two of you, arcing from his chest to yours through the air, let it fuel you for the next part.
--
The three of you had just left Chicago, two or so days into your trek towards Wyoming, to maybe find something better, to maybe find more of the same. Ray and Marla were ahead of you by about four paces, you deciding to hang back to let them chat. You could hear their murmurs, Ray’s giggle high and giddy when Marla made him laugh. You could imagine the two of them strolling down a sidewalk together, one hand holding their coffees with the other hand holding each other’s. You could see the golden light of the late afternoon in the trees, backlighting them as they chatted about their work, about their friends, about what movie they wanted to see on the weekend. You could imagine them going out for dinner of an evening, Marla resting her head on Ray’s shoulder as the sun set over the water, the two of them intertwined and suburban and blissfully, delightfully bored.
You were so lost in this reverie that you hadn’t realised they were talking to you until you nearly rammed into them, and you stopped to see them smiling, warmly at you.
‘You were a million miles away,’ Marla observed, and she reached out to pinch your arm.
‘Years,’ you said. ‘I was a million years away.’
--
 You sat with your legs folded underneath you on Joel’s floor, the fire warming your skin enough to remind you that you were alive. Your stomach ached, your chest burned, you rocked backwards and forwards and tucked your chin into your chest and sobbed, alternating between wiping your tears with the top of your shirt and just letting them fall onto the carpet.
You saw yourself as if you were floating outside your body, observed yourself get up on all fours and keen into the carpet, unleashing a wail unlike anything you’d ever heard. You thought, for a second, that this woman on the floor was unrecognisable, was barely human, scratching at the rug and trying to breathe through the sobs.
The night grew darker. The fire died down. You collapsed in on yourself, felt the last guide rope tethering you to the ground fail, and you slipped under, crouched on the floor with your forehead resting on your arms, your knees numb from the weight of pressing into the rug, your mind empty, time having stopped, the world having fallen off its axis. A small part of you observed in wonder at how much grief you could carry. A larger part, a wiser part, a part that had taken a back seat to let the banshee take the wheel for a while, knew that this was so much more than Marla. Knew that it was all of them, a ledger steeped in red.
In the darkness you became vaguely aware of footsteps, the sound of the fire being stoked, logs being added. Felt a blanket thrown over your shoulders, then warm hands on the small of your back guiding you, pulling you up and over to sit astride a warm body, a strong pair of legs. You wrapped your arms around him, clung to him like a koala to a Eucalypt, snuffled your tear-streaked face into his neck, into his shirt. He held you to him, a hand buried in your hair and cradling your skull in his palm, the other wrapped around your back, easing the fabric away and tucking under, to touch you, skin to skin. You heard whispers of words, mixed with your own sobs, your own gasps. He held you through all of it, on aching bones on the hard floor, until the crashing waves settled, until you finally washed ashore.
‘You don’t have a couch,’ you said, after a while, pulling your head up to observe the oddly sparse furniture arrangement. He snickered, leaning you back to brush the hair out of your eyes, away from your wet face.
You realised, after a moment, heat on your cheeks. ‘Oh,’ you said, simply. He gazed at you, watched you put two and two together, stood unshaken in all that he had sacrificed for you.
‘But where do you sit?’ you asked, and he nodded towards the old rocking chair he’d pulled in from the porch outside. You nodded your head, because it was perfect really, and because it made sense, and because you needed it to.
‘Is she gone?’ you asked, shifting on his lap to watch his face. He blinked slowly, nodded. You felt your face crumple, felt him tighten his hold on you. ‘Was it bad?’ you choked out, and he shook his head.
‘She was so brave,’ he said, gravelly voice just above a whisper. He reached out and cupped your face, wiped a tear away, held your gaze to him. ‘She was ready. She said when it was time.’
‘She didn’t…turn?’ you asked, clinging to his forearms now, letting him anchor you. He shook his head once more.
‘No, baby,’ he said, and you wanted to wrap yourself up in the sound of it, let it blanket you in warmth and quiet, burrow down into it and hibernate for the winter.
‘Thank you,’ you said, simply. He hummed in response, collecting a tear on his thumb and raising it to his lips, licking it clean. You gasped at the sight of it, his eyes never leaving yours, squirming on his lap, the sudden heat in your cunt catching you off guard. ‘Joel?’ you whispered, and he raised his eyebrows at you. ‘Are your legs numb?’ and he laughed then, because you had managed to surprise him, and after he caught his breath he sheepishly nodded. ‘Take me to bed, then,’ you said, climbing off him and extending a hand. You hauled him up, his knees creaking. For a moment the both of you stood, staring at each other in the light of the fire. You felt breathless with need for him, your head swimming, the sadness shifting just enough to let the heat in, the want. ‘Up the stairs,’ he told you. You slipped your hand into his paw.
--
Joel’s bedroom was sparse, the walnut oak bed pressed up against the wall, a stack of books on the floor beneath a bare lamp, a guitar in the corner. His scent was all over the sheets, all over the clothes strewn around the floor. You pressed yourself against him in the hope that you would absorb some of it into your cotton.
The moment you crossed the threshold his hands were on you, pulling your clothes from you like they had personally insulted him, shucking your jeans off your hips and pulling your panties down with them until you were bare, standing before him at the foot of his bed. He took a step back and you watched his face as his gaze devoured you, the heat of it so scorching that you could swear you could feel his fingers on you even standing three feet away. You trembled from the cold air and the intensity of it, and he saw in your face, read in you that you wanted to turn away from it, from the intimacy of it.
‘Don’t,’ he all but whispered, coming towards you and running his hands up on the outside of your arms. ‘Don’t be shy, not now,’ he said. He slipped a hand behind your back and his knees between yours, pushing you gently onto the bed behind you, laid his body over you and nipped at the skin behind your ear. You pulled at his flannel, trying to claw it from him without even unbuttoning it, groaning in frustration when the garment held fast. He snickered, his little lopsided grin, as he pulled it away.
You lifted yourself up on one arm, bringing the other to cradle him to you, licks and nibbles to his collar bone, to the patches of hair on his chin. His brought his hands to your breasts, pebbled the nipple with his fingers while he pushed and rolled them, squeezed them together just to watch them bounce. He was hard and heavy between your legs, still covered in his jeans, and you lifted shaking fingers to his belt buckle. He froze, a sharp intake of breath between his teeth, as he watched you. You faltered, worried for a second you had read it all wrong, that he was going to push you from him, that he had seen something in you, that you had revealed something wrong and gnarled.
‘Do you…should I?’ you stuttered, and he came to his senses again, his brow creasing when he saw you were floundering.
‘Oh, my sweet girl,’ he said, and you thought it would be kinder if he just set you on fire at that point, ‘darlin’ I was just awed for a second, that somethin’ as gorgeous as you would want a man like me. An old man like me.’
You felt the relief wash over you, your pulse quickening now but not from fear. ‘Seasoned,’ you grinned, bringing him back down to you, pulling him on top of you as his hands helped yours to free him, push his jeans over his hips. ‘Worn in,’ you went on, and he grinned at your little game. ‘Fine wine,’ you finished, and he snickered again.
‘Vinegar,’ he said, and you pushed his head down to your chest, fed him your breast, let him lave at your nipple while you gasped and clutched at his hair.
‘Experienced,’ you whimpered, and he huffed out a warm laugh into your breastbone. You wanted to unlock your ribs, swing them open like an ancient garden gate, and capture it there for safe keeping.
Free, now, the two of you naked and lying together on top of his blanket, the sheets rumpling underneath you as you rutted against each other. He reached a hand down to cup your sex, groaning when he felt how wet he had made you, how you were dripping for him. You gasped as he ran his fingers up and over your slit, gently teasing your lips apart, testing you, teasing you. You rolled your hips, trying to snare him, trying to slide him inside, but he worked against you, zigged when you zagged, and your frustrated little gasps delighted him.
‘Joel,’ you groaned, your voice tight across your chest, not enough air in your lungs to properly scold him. He ignored you, instead lifting his lips to his fingers and sampling a little taste. You watched him, eyes wide as his fell shut at the taste of you.
‘So sweet,’ he said, almost to himself, before he opened his eyes as if he just remembered you were there. ‘Here, baby,’ he said, and he fed yourself to you, his fingers sliding over your tongue as you suckled at them, his hot breath on your face as he watched you, pupils dark in the half-light of his lamp, sweat forming on his brow.
When you had sucked them clean he lowered them again, slipped them inside you, bending down to rest his ear on your mouth when you began to pant, to whimper.
‘Show me,’ he said, pulling your hand to your cunt and watching as you began slow, lazy circles around your clit. He furrowed his brow, pushed off you and down to watch properly, lifted a leg to prop you open, planting your foot on the mattress beneath you to open you wide and obscene in front of him. You blushed, moved to cover your face with your hands, but he stopped and caught you, brought your fingers back to your core before he slipped inside again. You raised your head to look at him beneath you and you realised he was learning you, studying your movements to replicate them later, letting you teach him how to touch you so that you’d never have to do it alone again.
Your first orgasm hit you hard. Under his careful, studious gaze you felt yourself unravel, your legs shaking where he held you open, his hand grasping at your ankle to keep you from slamming shut. So lost in the feeling of it, of the blooming heat expanding out and into your belly, of the undulations of your cunt around his fingers, that you barely noticed him slip his fingers from you and slide to the ground beside the bed, pushing your legs into your chest and holding them there, pressing you in half all the better to ease his tongue into your cunt and lick up your spend, kitten licks at your sensitive clit before plunging his tongue into your hole, breathing hard through his nose and groaning, uttering filth in the base of his throat as he devoured you, wrung your second orgasm from you in a matter of minutes, rolling from side to side and head thrown back, hands tangled in his hair as his mouth rode you, as he stayed with you up to your peak and then over it, savouring and lapping at your come, rutting into the side of the bed as he let your thighs down to rest on his shoulders, your breath ragged and rippling with pleasure, hands clutching to the blanket to steady himself, to catch his breath.
He gazed at you in repose, ran his eyes over your sopping cunt up to your heaving belly, to the curve of the underside of your breast, the nipples straining into the cold air, and then up to your face, your head thrown back as you came down, as you squirmed from the overstimulation still coursing through you, as you let your hands drop beside you, sated and glorious in his worship of you.
You swallowed, your mouth, lips, throat dry. With shaky hands you reached for him, grabbed at the air above his shoulders, felt him shift and rise up to meet you, felt his weight blanketing you as you came back to yourself. With one hand in your hair and the other tracing your cheek, your jaw, you opened your eyes to stare into his, the desire carved hard and deep into his features.
‘Take it,’ you whispered, watching as his bottom lip quivered with need. ‘Please, Joel.’
He shifted his weight to one arm, reached down between you as you lifted your legs to bracket his hips, crossing your feet at the ankles behind his back. You felt him guide his cock to the weeping maw of your cunt.
‘Please,’ you whispered again, as you felt him slip inside you, the burn and the stretch and the force of him, so hard and pulsing as he parted you. He dropped his head, sighing, and you planted your lips to his brow, whimpered at the weight of his cock inside you, at the weight of the two of you finally, finally joined.
‘She’s tight, baby,’ he said, his brow creasing. He moved his hips, shoving further into you in one shot, and you gasped, grabbed at his shoulders, brought his eyes back to yours. He paused, gazing into your eyes, read the trepidation in them. ‘S’ok baby,’ he cooed, leaning down to place a kiss on your cheekbone. ‘You can do it,’ he encouraged, and you felt the warmth of his reassurance radiate down your thighs. ‘We can take our time,’ he said, languidly pulling back from you before gently, achingly, taking his place again. ‘Got all night for ya,’ he said, and you realised he had started to ramble, and that under his hot breath, on top of his blanket in his sparse bedroom lit only by his bedside lamp, in the cold Jackson night where the snow dampened all the noise, all the loss, all the sharp edges down, you never wanted him to stop whispering his filthy encouragement to you, never wanted him to stop easing his way into you, to the core of you, marking you where only he belonged.
‘Doin’ so good for me,’ he went on, his eyes closing on their own, lost in the grip of your cunt around him, in the heat of you. Finally he was fully seated, the warmth of his belly coming to rest upon yours. He settled there, reluctant to move, until you squirmed underneath him, caged whimpers escaping your throat. He opened his eyes, his lopsided grin appearing above you, as he planted a kiss on your hairline, gazed down at you as you stretched around him. He brought his hand down to cup your jaw again, held you there under his stare, as he withdrew his hips and eased back in again, pushing deeper into you that you gasped when he bottomed out, his eyes never leaving yours as your mouth dropped open in surprise at the feeling he was pulling from you, at the need and the ache of your cunt spread so open and wanting for him, at the way he was so effortlessly taking you apart, so calmly and so warmly unravelling you.
‘Too good,’ you complained, your brow saddling and jaw clenching, as you felt your cunt grip and release, grip and release. He cooed at you, revelling in your whimpers, gasped as you did, shared in your breath, made you submit to the divinity he was pushing you towards. This was how your third orgasm found you.
Locked in his gaze you could only lie beneath him, holding him to you by the shoulders and groaning as he pistoned in and out, watching his eyes slam shut as he was dragged under, submitted to the pull, his come washing the fear and the stress and the grief out of you, replacing it only with scorching heat, with a kind of pleasure indistinguishable from a greedy, pernicious want, with something that, in another life, you could have shaped into love. 
--
You lay, entwined together, under his blanket. Your head on his chest, ear to his heartbeat, you felt your body rise and fall as he breathed underneath you. You hadn’t wanted the night to end, hadn’t wanted to close your eyes and wake to the aftermath. Together you lay and watched the sunrise. Occasionally Joel ran his fingers up and down your arm to let you know he was still there.
‘Joel?’ you whispered, and he hummed in response. You kept your head down, listening to his pulse quicken as you spoke. ‘Canna ask you something?’ you said, jaw resting on his ribs.
‘Uhhuh,’ he said, but his fingers were stopped now, frozen in place on your shoulder.
‘Before, when we were…’ you trailed off, because even though hours before he had been eyelevel with your swollen, puffy cunt, now suddenly talking about it felt too intimate. ‘Before,’ you started again, ‘you said you didn’t think I’d want a man like you.’
‘An old man,’ he corrected, and you smiled.
‘Seasoned,’ you corrected, and he groaned, theatrically. ‘But you said a man like you, then an old man like you,’ you reminded him. He wasn’t laughing anymore, and you could feel the temperature in the room drop. ‘What did you mean?’ you ploughed on, because you were in it now.
He thought for a moment, swallowing hard. You shifted in his arms, looked up at him, saw the flicker of panic there, before he reset his features in stone. You pulled away from him in surprise, not having seen that look directed at you in weeks, not since the first time he had appeared reticent and sore at your door. Your stomach dropped.
‘I gotta check on the horses,’ he said, rolling you out of the way and moving to get up. You sat up with him, grabbing at his arm.
‘Joel,’ you said, trying to pull him back towards you, but so easily overpowered. He rolled his shoulder, shaking you off.
‘The two that came back, they need to be checked over. Waited for first light.’
‘Joel, I don’t understand what’s happening.’ He was standing, pacing around the room pulling his clothes back together, gathering yours and dropping them on the end of the bed. He stared at you, expectant, but you refused to move.
‘What kind of man did you mean, Joel?’ you pressed him, and he scoffed, pulling his jeans on and hastily doing up his shirt. He missed a few buttons, and in that moment you didn’t feel like helping him.
‘You know exactly what kind of man,’ he said.
You saw Maria’s tense shoulders when he came into her kitchen, bleeding. You saw her sitting in your kitchen as you held her feet to your chest, explaining how Tommy was different, how he had only wanted to impress his big brother.
Sort of dressed, he was now pacing, the morning light turning his skin a ghostly pale, and you thought for a moment he was haunting you. ‘You know exactly,’ he repeated. ‘Same reason you came running to me the second your friend needed killin’.’
You flinched like he’d slapped you, would have preferred if he had.
‘What kind of man, Joel?’ you asked, and he looked at you, then, tortured for a second before he wiped it away with his hand on his face.
‘A fuckin killer,’ he said, quiet and deathly in the chill of the morning.
You stared at him, heart racing. You were surprised and you also weren’t. You knew what this world demanded of people, the toll you had all paid for survival.
‘Infected?’ you asked, and he sighed, frustrated.
‘Don’t be so fuckin’ naïve,’ he said.
You remembered you were naked, but this was the first time he had really made you feel it, and you held the blanket to your chest, tight.
He wouldn’t look at you, staring instead out the window as Jackson woke.
‘I ain’t a good man,’ he said, quietly, and you shook your head.
‘I don’t believe that,’ you said, and he sneered at you then, picked up your clothes and threw them at you.
‘You don’t know shit about me,’ he said, and then he was gone. You listened as his heavy footsteps stomped down the stairs, the pause as he pulled his boots on, the slam of the door.
Taglist:
@orcasoul
@archofimagine
@hiroikegawa
@ilovejoel-andjavi
@giggly-otter
@harrysrosetatto
@Hjzghi-blog
@daddy-dins-girl
@kathaaaaaaa
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miraculan-draws · 20 days ago
Text
SO I gush about my hero Carol and the IWTV costume department all the time but in speculation for season 3, I would like to indulge in the MAKEUP intricacies in season 1, particularly in episode 1.
I can't be entirely positive, but I'm pretty sure human Louis is made up to look worn out/look older than he is? He has bags under his eyes/dark circles. He's a bit washed out in some scenes/a bit ashen, and glassy-eyed—probably to insinuate alcoholism. And it's pretty subtle, but I think maybe they do a little pass of face makeup over his lips to lessen the contrast of his mouth, which is an easy trick to make a face look more masculine at a distance but up close can begin to look sickly/a bit dead.
"it was as though I'd walked my entire life as a dead man, and now, dead ..."
Vampire Louis is definitely made up COMPLETELY DIFFERENT and it's so subtle and plays up this lovely "other-ness". No more dark circles around the eyes, but I think now we do a bit of darkening on the lashes for Louis. His complexion is a lot more lush, very "peachy" and warm. My FAVORITE PART is instead of trying to lessen the contrast of his lips, I think it's accentuated—with this like very plum/wine/cranberry color that looks natural enough to not be obvious but bold enough to look very "vampy", and it makes the green eyes pop without looking campy. (I think Jacob wears the contacts the best out of the cast)
AND IT MAKES ME WONDER
Because we've ONLY seen Vampire Lestat. So the makeup crew gets to work backwards and create the subtleties of a mortal Lestat and how they can make him look just different enough, because it won't be in the same ways they created mortal Louis. They lived completely different lives.
Because in what we've seen so far, Lestat is made up very "golden", like they don't darken the lashes or brows, they want them to catch the light in a scene—and if you're really looking for it, you'll notice Louis' memories of him are almost dreamy with how golden the light around him is. Sam has a perpetual "princess mouth", but I do think there is a bit of a pink wash of color added for Lestat to really accentuate it. His complexion has a glass quality to it.
MY PREDICTIONS FOR MORTAL LESTAT MAKEUP:
Red/ruddy cheeks, in a "been out in the cold air" kind of way, maybe a cooler complexion over all. Stubble, if not downright scruffy. (There is already a scene in TVL where he ends up with a legit depression beard). Straighter/lanky/limp hair, like all the texture is repeatedly brushed out and tied away from the face. Scrapes/cuts, bruising here and there. Lestat, despite having a noble name, is broke. He works. He hunts. He tends the horses, he raises dogs. I am VERY excited to see country bumpkin Lestat.
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bittersuitejacobs · 6 months ago
Text
• an unhealthy obsession • Nate Jacobs •
two. the slate cleaned
Summary: In which Ophelia spends the first day of school realising that she is both far more noticeable, and completely unrecognisable to friends and peers alike.
Warnings: obsessive behaviours & stalking.
A/N: 2422 words. this continues to be self indulgent and possibly messy, also just as a warning, but Ophelia is not necessarily a good person, the warnings for this chapter are about her. please let me know what you think!! :)
{ masterpost }
THE TAGLIST IS ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)
----
So it continues with the pleated skirts and knee high socks and arms full of books and an air of sweetness.
They share several classes this semester - have for years, actually - but if anyone were to ask Nate, he would claim he'd never seen her before that semester started. Ophelia sits at the front of class now, tight sweater and hair in half-up pigtails, but quiet. The aesthetic change had little effect on her academics; she was a good student when she didn't care how she looked, she's still a good student now that she does. Except now she keeps her books in her arms, and backpack that was only really useful as an accessory, rather than in the large thing that had always clung to her before, which had always favoured function over form. The only real change would be her willingness to participate in class, eager to steal the class's attention and get them to notice her, notice the change.
Now, she smiles shyly when others talked to her, and her laugh is one she pretends she hasn't been practicing over summer; pretty, musical, dainty.
Befriending Jules, and by extension Rue, wasn't at all part of the plan, but it was a pleasant side effect. It had been a long time since she'd had a proper friend offline. Now she had two.
Jules is in her first class of the year; art. Initially she doesn't quite recognise Ophelia - something about the hair and the makeup and the shirt at the party seemed so different, she'd said - but lights up once Ophelia jogs her memory. When she asks about the bandage on Jules' arm, the blonde rolls her eyes, tells her about how some drunk asshole threatened her while Ophelia was in the bathroom, so she'd grabbed a knife and threatened him right back before making a spectacle of herself and practically fleeing.
"Rue patched me up, though," she giggled with a faint flush; Ophelia knows what the early stages of a crush looks like, and there's something endearing seeing it on Jules' face now.
Ophelia knows about Rue in kind of a nebulous way, which is the same way Ophelia knows about most people in her year. Bookish and desperate to keep her name out of people's mouths when she'd finally gotten to public school in junior high, and for the past two years of high school, she kept mostly to herself, and satisfied her need for a social life online. Even as she grew restless with that, started attending parties, started taking note of the people around her, she put the effort in to making sure they barely noticed her. These people she'd been in close proximity to were still arguably strangers to her.
But that was changing, and she was glad for it.
At lunch, Jules invites Ophelia along to join her and Rue. A proper meeting with someone she'd run into around school for several years, and sat silently beside at a handful of parties; all of which Rue was too high at to ever event notice her presence at all, which worked just fine for Ophelia at the time.
As if proving this point, Rue asks who she is when Jules waves her over, which only confuses the blonde.
"Lia, I told you I invited her to sit with us."
Rue squints up at Ophelia, who happens to know exactly how Rue looks across her various stages of being high, and knows she's seeing it again now.
"Are you new too?" Is the first thing she asks Ophelia, who's sliding onto the bench on Jules' other side. Ophelia shakes her head, Rue hums for a moment, "I kind of recognise you..."
"We used to share study periods on Thursdays," Ophelia prompts, not that she's sure Rue remembers. It's not as if they actually studied together; Ophelia studied, Rue... was there.
"Didn't you used to be a dirtbag?" Rue tips her head to the side, scrutinising Ophelia now. Ophelia, despite knowing that someone may notice, may make the connection and have questions, was still caught off guard.
"Dress like one? Sure," Ophelia shifted a little awkwardly, avoiding looking at Jules and her confused, silently questioning glance.
"Cool," Rue says nonchalantly after a beat, only adding to confirm her name; "Lia?" And Ophelia gave her a sunny smile, nodding.
The only things Ophelia can fit in her backpack are her lunch and her phone. Today, lunch meant two apples she'd bought that morning from the grocery on her way to school. It used to include a packet of chips, of a sleeve of Oreos, always something she could buy on her way, but forfeited them for the sake of her optics of her new look.
"Is that all you're having?" Jules seems concerned.
"I'll eat more when I get home," Ophelia assured. Food was an... uncomfortable situation for her; she always preferred eating at home nowadays. Jules doesn't exactly seem placated, but she leaves well enough alone.
The pep rally at lunch is enough to steal her focus, all of their focuses, actually. Its... a lot. Rue and Jules are caught up in their adjustment at how over the top it is, but Ophelia guides her gaze with intent. The coach and his enthusiasm. Maddie and the cheerleaders. The football team riling their peers up. Nate Jacobs, their captain.
For a moment, as his eyes roam the cafeteria, watching the sea of chaos as it ebbs and flows with the excited shouts of his teammates, his gaze catches on her. There's not even a flicker of recognition in his eyes before he's looking past her, to Jules and Rue, frowning. Ophelia pointedly turns her face, turns her eyes to the cheerleaders, to watch what she felt like she was supposed to, rather than to be caught staring at someone she wasn't.
She'd already been attending football games for most of the last semester, part of her pattern of observation, but she'd always kept close to the back of the stands, out of sight, out of mind. Starting this Friday, she'd make herself far more seen at events.
After lunch, and saying goodbye to Rue and Jules, Ophelia walks into her algebra class and takes the front row seat closest to the window. Others filter in behind her, and Ophelia watches them all with the most mild of interest, appearing to zone out more than anything else. Nate is one of the last ones in, with another footballer behind him, and Ophelia let's her gaze drift away so she doesn't look like she's staring. His gaze slides her her with a casual kind of disinterest, and Ophelia realises very suddenly that he has absolutely no recollection of who she is.
Good. A real fresh start.
Still that day afternoon she still takes the long way home out of habit, music in her ears as she follows the suburban streets. Nate's truck is outside his house when she stops past on her habitual detour; she wonders if he'd already dropped Maddie home, or if they were both here. Of course she could check; the backyard bordering on the Jacobs' residence was owned by a young, busy couple who both worked late, a side gate that was easy to scale, and a front door camera that was easy to avoid. But it didn't feel like something worth bothering with today, so she simply lingered a few houses away as she lit herself a cigarette, and continued the final half hour home.
Considering her change in style, she wondered if she could still keep up the routine she'd developed. Walking past his house wasn't the issue; even if he did see her, it's not like he knows where she lives, or that she's going out of her way for him. It was more that she'd taken to sitting under the bleachers after school on Tuesdays and Thursdays, smoking and sketching and pretending like she wasn't watching football practice. With the new persona she'd created for herself, it would seem out of character if she was seen skulking around behind the bleachers.
Beneath the bleachers was another place Ophelia used to see Rue, though she never stayed as long as Ophelia did. It's not as though they hung out; Ophelia kept to the side, trying to remain as unnoticed as possible, and she has a feeling she often succeeded -
"Ophelia? Lia?" While pondering her plans for that Tuesday afternoon, a voice brings her out of her thoughts during her study period, and Ophelia looks up to see Lexi Howard giving her a confused smile. Immediately, Ophelia beams; she's always been rather fond of Lexi, at least since she'd started high school. A year below Ophelia, but with an air of someone much wiser than anyone have her credit for, it wasn't long before they were friends. Lexi wasn't some vague, nebulous figure in Ophelia's life the way the rest of the school was, she was probably the only person Ophelia genuinely considered to be a good friend. Lexi laughed awkwardly, setting her bag down, "you... look different."
"New year, new me," Ophelia shrugged.
"Really new you," Lexi looked her over, still obviously trying to come to terms with Ophelia's new aesthetic, "I almost didn't recognise you; you look really good," she's quick to assure her. Ophelia ducks her gaze, laughing the compliment off as she asked her about her summer. Lexi seemed to relax at the question, thawing out as she chattered away about the break that had just passed. It hadn't been particularly eventful, apart from learning Rue had overdosed and spent the summer in rehab. Ophelia knew this; Lexi had called her the night she'd found out, and Ophelia had stayed on the call for hours in her hotel in Sweden, heart breaking for being too far away to give her friend proper support, or even a hug.
As much as Lexi had spent the summer worried about Rue, she still enjoyed the time away from school. Most of her time was spent either in her room, or with Cassie and her friends; they liked Lexi well enough, and Ophelia was at least glad she had people around her who were good to her.
They're catching each other up on the shows they'd been watching by the time the bell goes. When Lexi stands, she invites Ophelia over to her house.
"I need to know everything that happened in Sweden," she laughed, "I'm still not entirely convinced you didn't somehow get a concussion," she admits, "you still sound like you, but Lia, seriously, you look like a different person," at least she sounds fond, even if the confused concern is back in full force.
"I haven't got brain damage," Ophelia rolled her eyes, "I just wanted a change," she assured honestly. Lexi holds up her hands, placating, warmth still in her gaze as she lets it drop, insisting that she still wanted to hear about Ophelia's summer in Sweden.
"I'm staying back to do some drawing, work on my proportions and poses, but I'll come over after," it was a usual enough occurrence that Lexi nods, not asking any follow-up questions.
Which is how Ophelia finds herself walking back to Lexi's house with Cassie Howard after football practice. It wasn't on purpose; the cheerleaders also had practice on Tuesdays. From what she'd observed, the cheer team trained in the school's gym on Tuesdays and had the field on Wednesdays when it was free. Watching them on Wednesdays wasn't exactly a regular part of Ophelia's routine the way watching the footballers practice was, but she's no stranger to them. Maddie may not be the main focus of her observational habits, but that didn't mean there was no merit in trying to understand what Nate saw in her that meant he kept going back to her.
And the cheerleaders were talented athletes in their own right; more than a few pages in her art journals were dedicated to trying to capture their graceful, dynamic movements. The cheerleaders actually made far more interesting subjects in that respect.
More than once over the past year, Ophelia had considered trying out for the team. She could probably make it; months spent atrophying in a hospital bed at fourteen had lead to extensive physical therapy, and after years of feeling weak and sickly as a child meant it felt good to move her body like that. Exercise had become a big part of her routine in the last few years, not that anyone would suspect it just by looking at her. But she'd always eventually dismissed the idea. She was sure Nate liked that Maddie was a cheerleader, but she didn't think he liked her because she was one, and Ophelia didn't want to draw any unnecessary comparisons if she didn't have to. If he was going to want her, she didn't want it to be because she reminded him of Maddie.
"I feel like I know you from somewhere," Cassie's voice is surprisingly close behind Ophelia when they're a few blocks from the school, and Ophelia gives a start. It's not the first time they'd technically walked back to Cassie's house like this considering their routines, but it's the first time Cassie's spoken to her. Yes, Cassie does know her, but only as one of her little sister's weird friends.
"Yeah," Ophelia gives an awkward laugh, "we're in the same homeroom, Cassie."
"Oh," Cassie frowns, trotting a little quicker to fall into step beside Ophelia. She's still in her cheer uniform, obviously not having bothered to change after practice. It's a good look on her, "right," as she looks at Ophelia for a long moment, it starts to dawn on her, "wait, aren't you Lexi's friend? You're not in my grade, are you?" At least she's smiling, even if it's disbelieving.
"I've been in your grade since we started high school," but Ophelia let's herself smile as Cassie laughs.
"Shut up, no you're not!" She grins widely, "Lia?"
"I've been to your house many times, Cassie," Ophelia reminds her, and Cassie shakes her head.
"Not looking like this you haven't!" She insisted, "you used to be all emo, didn't you?"
"I'm trying something new."
"Clearly," Cassie looked her over, as if evaluating her, "you're like, really pretty, this is so weird," she finally decided on, meeting Ophelia's waiting gaze with a warm smile.
"Why does everyone keep saying that?" Ophelia laughed, and Cassie gestured broadly to her.
"Look at you!"
"I'm still me," Ophelia insisted with a sheepish smile, heart growing warm with the praise, finding herself genuinely enjoying the company on the walk, "I'm just more noticeable now."
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