perv!joost who def gets u to smoke with him so he can touch you all over...but it doesnt count, you wont remember it, right?
perv!joost who jokes "haha its like we kissed..." when u share a blunt or a bottle, licking his lips after each time so he can have a smidge of your taste on his tongue. he would get so hard from that...
perv!joost whos just too honest and admits on how sexy you look when ur high....
he would def try to get him to blow smoke into your mouth, cus hey "its such a fun trick, right?"
and he would feel so bad once you would have to leave, but you can totally sleep over at his place, he wouldnt be able to sleep right if something happend to you in this state. his body would be squished next to yours, giggling under some blankets cus its so silly how high both of you are and how fun it is... but his pants feel so tight, he needs to get rid of some pressure one way or another...
request: “i had an idea… joost x reader angst where they’re arguing over something stupid and joost lifts his arm up (not to hit the reader) and the reader flinches and covers themselves because they used to be abused by their father and or parents when they were young…?? i know its dark. love u and ur work tho luv”
tags: dead dove do not eat, f! reader, non-famous! reader, established relationship, once again putting a reader through absolute hell, but it’s okay because joostie is always there to save the day, parsa is also briefly there, plenty of angst but it’s sad, even more hurt x comfort but it’s sadder, all characters speak in dutch but dialogue is written in english for obvious reasons.
warnings: frequent and detailed descriptions of a ptsd attack, detailed childhood/parental abuse, rpf.
word count: 4,061.
notes: so many hugs and kisses to the anon that submitted this request! it was a tough write in places, and i’ve actively put off preparing for a job interview that i have tomorrow to get it finished, so hopefully you like it just as much as i do xx — just note that it comes with a MASSIVE TRIGGER WARNING before reading!!
+ as always, so so so much love to my beta readers @blueessber , @minuutvanverval , and my friend G! :3
enjoy xx
it was subtle.
joost would have missed it if he’d blinked, the way that you had ducked your head a mere inch when he’d raised his hand just a little too high; a little too close to your face. how you had ducked your head and flinched, taking the slightest small step backwards as you’d done so, without so much as glancing his way once.
the conversation around you had still flowed, free of the weight that had then sat so uncomfortably on his shoulders, because somehow, no one else had caught it. somehow, the guilt of nothing more than a simple high-five between himself and dima became a burden that he, and only he, would have to bear. and the fact that you had still then taken his hand and not dropped it until he’d run off to go get ready for his set, and had still laughed at all of his friends’ jokes as though you hadn’t been affected by anything at all, didn’t matter. it couldn’t matter.
the image of it is still playing on repeat inside his head. the soft crinkle of your nose as your whole face had scrunched up, bracing for a hit that was never going to come. you were scared of him, for just a moment. afraid that right then and there, surrounded by so many of his friends and crew just beside the tour bus, he would put his hands on you. at the very least, it was a sign that you thought he’s even capable of doing so.
it’s not something he should still be thinking about, not whilst you’re all curled up in his arms, on his chest, lulled to sleep by the low hum of the bus engine. he’s already let it carve a permanent furrow in his eyebrows and ruin a show because he kept forgetting all the words to his own songs. now he’s letting it keep him up, and he’s staring blankly out the window instead of sleeping with his face buried deep into the crook of your neck.
but joost settles for waiting, patiently, for his own thoughts to tire him out. he lies still, counting each of your slow, gentle breaths like sheep, trying to convince himself that he’s simply just spiralling over nothing. that he’s over exaggerating, because maybe it wasn’t a flinch and you don’t think that he could ever hurt you. maybe it was just a fly that he hadn’t seen, buzzing around in your face, bothering you. maybe it doesn’t have to all be so terrible.
he feels it when you jolt; it draws his gaze away from the blur of some trees going past and back down to your face. your wide, teary eyes, and the way that your lips part as you try to remember where you are — remember whose hands are gripping onto your waist.
“i’m fine.” you speak before he can ask you if you’re okay. without meeting his eyes first, you felt that it was him, felt that it was his hold keeping you steady, his erratic heartbeat underneath your ear. you don’t want to worry him anymore than you already have. “bad dream.”
you feel him squeeze you just a little tighter. “do you want to talk about it?”
and at the sound of his voice so warm inside your ear, you chuckle against his chest, only because you can’t imagine bothering him with something so insignificant. “no, i’m fine.” instead you just stretch, yawning a little. “sorry, did i wake you up?”
softly, he shakes his head. “was it about earlier?”
it peaks your interest, makes you shift, turning around to face him until you’re resting against his sternum. “what happened earlier?”
the bus rattles beneath you. the wheels catch a pothole, and it’s only because of joost that you aren’t thrown up too high into the air. it’s enough to make you laugh again, even brighter this time, and without noticing that he isn’t quite laughing with you. his giggle is there but it’s hollow, only for show.
“when we were hanging outside with everyone, you flinched at me like i was about to…do you dream that i do things like that?”
and there are streetlights casting an orange glow across your nose, your cheeks; your eyes shine as you stare back at him. it means that he sees it when your tired smile drops into something so much sadder, and you move to sit up away from him. he sees it when your shoulders tense, and he notices it when you just can’t look at him anymore.
“no…no, i don’t. you just…you know how i am; i’m jumpy.”
joost sits up with you, and his head tips to the side. “yeah, you struggle with horror films sometimes but you watch them anyway because you love them. that’s not the same thing as thinking i’m about to hit you when i -”
but despite the late hour, you just can’t stop your voice from rising. “- no one ever said anything about you hitting me, joost.”
“so then why did you flinch?” a few seconds of silence pass, only disturbed by the faint, white noise of the traffic around you. “i high-fived my friend and you reacted like i was about to right-hook you.”
“i didn’t mean to.”
“is that something you think i’d do?”
you still won’t face him; your head still hangs low, offering him nowhere else to look other than the soft, bare curve of your spine. the mess of hair that cascades down and past your shoulders. “of course not.”
“you won’t even look at me, schatje.”
“i’m tired; i’m still waking up.”
“and that means you now can’t look at me? even though that wasn’t an issue about five minutes ago?”
something in his tone flips, changes, and his voice falls a little deeper. there’s almost an annoyance that hangs off each word, which only grows the longer that you stay quiet with your back still to him. because joost just isn’t used to being shut out like this — not by anyone and not by you, of all people. he’s a helper; people talk to him and he helps. they let him help.
and you’re not letting him help. instead you’re leaving him to sit with this thought, this fear that you really do think something so awful of him, without any possible relief whilst you simply let him. you’re still there beside him, but not truly there, not when he needs you to be.
quietly, he sighs, just loud enough for you to hear. you think he’s about to say something, maybe poke another small, indefensible hole in your logic when suddenly his arms raise, and he stretches. it’s even accompanied by a deep yawn of his own, but it’s still enough to get you though, isn’t it? enough to have you wincing, yelping, jerking to the side away from him, just in case.
“don’t.” again, immediately, you rob him of the chance to speak first. “i’m fine.”
but it only takes a surrendered, gentle plea of your name for you to start falling apart at the seams, your breathing turning heavy, laboured. you find yourself gathering the sheets up into your arms just to have something to hold onto. it’s all so dramatic, so unnecessary for something that you’ve spent so long trying so hard to forget; you blink once, twice, as many times as it takes for you to hopefully stop seeing what’s not even there.
the rising of the early morning sun casts a soft blue hue across the room. it brings with it a chill that settles along your skin, raising goosebumps, and rain that has the bus windows starting to shake inside their frames. you’re almost thankful for the noise of it, of the harsh, low thumping of each droplet hitting against the thin glass, because you’re struggling to catch your own breath.
“schatje,” in turn, joost inches forward just enough for you to be back within his grasp if he still had the heart to touch you; right now you resemble something far too similar to a landmine for him to risk that just yet. “baby, you’re not fine.”
around you, the crisp, white duvet does little to keep you warm as you shiver despite the rosy heat that sits just beneath your cheeks. “i am, i just need a minute.”
“you’re shaking like a leaf, schat.”
this just isn’t something that you ever imagined having to tell joost, is it? or anyone in your life now, for that matter. how terrified of everything you used to be; how many years you spent living in fear of someone who was supposed to protect you from all the monsters hiding underneath your bed.
“it’s not you. please, it’s not you. it’s not.” it’s a sentiment that you repeat until the words begin to lose all meaning.
“then what?” and his own are strained, catching in the very back of his throat as he fights against every natural instinct to reach out to you. “you know you can talk to me; what happened?”
“my family wasn’t like yours growing up; we never used to watch tv together.” the crease between his eyebrows deepen as he watches the rapid rise and fall of your chest; how you shake your head as though you’re trying to toss your own thoughts right out. “they were mean and they scared me, and they’re still…stuck inside my head. it was just habit earlier; it wasn’t you.”
the bus suddenly comes to a stop and you freeze only for a moment before you’re jumping up, stumbling, and swapping the sheets for a hoodie of his to keep you covered up instead. a stolen cigarette balances delicately between your lips as you slip into a pair of crocs that’ll do little to keep your feet dry from the rain. it’s still without turning to face him that you mumble something about needing some fresh air.
you don’t turn back when joost calls out for you. you don’t acknowledge it when your name starts to sound like something almost akin to a cry. it’s only the bus driver, hans, that you bless with a smile once he announces a brief stop for a petrol refill, and a chance for those of you awake to finally stretch your legs.
because it’s not just the two of you, is it? parsa’s crawling out of his bunk just in time to catch you rushing down the hall with your head down low and hood pulled all the way up, before disappearing outside. he’s there to see joost sat defeated in his bed through the wide gap in the door, all doe-eyed and raking shaky fingers throughout his hair.
he’s too torn between following you and just leaving you be for a while, that he simply does nothing.
“uhh…everything okay?” the question is hesitant — conscious of the already thin ice that it walks on.
it’s only met with a small nod; there’s a lump lodged somewhere deep in joost’s throat now that’s just large enough to choke him if he speaks.
“you gonna go after her or what?” and from the corner of his eye, parsa can see you standing just a little too close to the side of the road to be considered ‘safe’. you’re already drenched from head to toe as you take in another drag of your cigarette. “it’s fucking raining balls out there, man.”
“she just needs some air; she’ll be back in a minute.” maybe it would have been more convincing had the words not then been followed by such a soft, shuddering gasp of breath.
“nah, fuck that. go fix whatever you did and get her back in here.”
the tough love hits him somewhere between two ribs, and it hurts. the quiet implication that he just must have done something wrong, must have been the one to drive you outside and into the rain one way or another, because who else could there possibly be to blame? the faint scoff and the look that he gets before parsa disappears out of sight, and the bus door opens again. it hurts.
from the window, joost watches his friend stray no further than a mere few steps away from the bus. as your friend too, parsa lingers just in case with a morning cigarette of his own between his lips, but it’s not his place to interfere. it’s not him that’s still sitting in bed whilst you’re busy trying to catch yourself a cold.
perhaps the implication is not that joost did something wrong, but that he’s still not doing anything at all. that thought alone is enough to finally get him up, pulling what at least smells like a clean jumper over his head as he drags tired feet down the bus.
you’ve already smoked all the way down to the filter by the time that he reaches you, calling out a gentle “liefje!” before he hesitates and stops just a little further than an arms length away. wet hair clings to cold skin as you turn on the spot to face him; his shoulders drop slightly, so you know that he can see the same puffiness that you feel around your eyes now. you know you can’t blame last night’s smudged mascara for it.
“liefje,” he quickly finds himself squinting because wind keeps blowing rain into his eyes, and his nose has already turned a little pink from the cold. “if i have to bribe hans to let you smoke on the bus then i will, just — come back inside, okay? you’ll get sick.”
you sniffle, wiping your sore nose on the sleeve of your hoodie. “i just needed a minute to think, joost.”
“i know, you keep saying that.” and then quietly, you watch him sigh as he runs a trembling hand through his hair again. “tell me what to do.”
“i don’t know.” the words come out not much louder than a whisper. you know that it’s not good enough.
“tell me how i can help you. you’re not letting me help you.”
“i said i don’t know!”
ash spills to the ground as you let the butt of your cigarette fall from your fingertips. it hits cement before tumbling down into the gutter, discarded, soon to be washed away by some small, overflowing drain near by. for a second, you let your gaze drop, and you watch as it starts to slowly disintegrate at your feet.
“i’d ask for help…” you don’t see it when joost suddenly goes rigid. “i had these friends online, on fucking club penguin or something, and i’d ask them for help because i couldn’t trust anyone else…it never worked. the help never came.”
“schat…”
“i’m not sure what i expected — they were kids my age, i think. they couldn’t have done anything.”
it’s nothing short of a relief when he takes a single, short step forward, and you don’t react. if anything, you lean a little further into the space, still not quite meeting him halfway but not shying away from him anymore, either. he considers it to be progress, regardless.
“you can’t blame yourself for that; you didn’t know.”
“no, but my dad still broke my jaw when he found all the chat logs, though.”
and something old starts to ache at the memory.
the feeling of your father’s nails digging into the soft, sore flesh of your cheeks, his hot spit splattering across your face as he’d yell that you deserved this over and over again. that really, you had been asking for it, each and every strike from such worn, calloused hands, because he wouldn’t have needed to touch you at all had you just learnt to behave yourself.
he wasn’t asking too much of you, or for anything unachievable for a child of your age; his expectations were no different from any other parent, really. you were the problem — your inability to only speak when spoken to, and to only take what you were given and be grateful for it, because you were lucky to have what you did. you had a family that willingly kept a roof over your head and food on the table; a family willing to put up with you because truly, no one else would.
every time that you stepped out of line, disappointed him, you were giving him no choice, weren’t you? every bruised rib and black eye, it was always your fault.
what he did to you the night that he found all those messages sent to your friend ‘@piinkpenguingurl01’, terrified of being hurt again and begging her to tell a grown up because you couldn’t, you’d deserved worse, actually. he told you it was a kindness that he locked you away in your room for as long as he had, leaving you to starve up there for three days because your jaw was so swollen you couldn’t eat. he’d wanted to do worse. your mother would have let him.
you’re so lost in the thought of it all now, with even the slightest details falling from your lips before you could ever try to stop them, that you don’t see it when joost begins to close the gap between you. he takes one, and then another careful, not quite hesitant but slow step towards you; he doesn’t stop until his arms are around you and squeezing.
it’s protective, how he does it. how he holds you in a way that hides your face in his chest, shielding you from the rain. how he so delicately rubs a hand up and down your back as the other cups the back of your head. for just a moment, his fingers move to brush dripping hair away from your eyes, and he catches sight of the faint scar that lies just beneath your ear. he bends down to leave behind a kiss just as he’s always done, though now he can’t help but to let the touch linger.
“i’m so sorry, liefje.”
somehow, that’s the thing to finally break you.
before, you had been stiff in his arms as you’d tried to adjust to the sudden deep pressure. your eyes had still stung from all the tears that you hadn’t let fall yet.
but those four little words have you collapsing right into him, don’t they? with your arms winding around his middle, you stuff your face even further into the wet cotton of his jumper, and you cry until your nose stuffs up. it almost hurts to breathe, and you’re so cold that you can no longer fully feel your toes; the short curb beside you feels more like a cliff as you cling onto joost as though he’s the only thing stopping you from falling.
it’s why you panic when joost then tries to take half a step back — even in the state that you’re in, he misses being able to see your face.
“woah! hey,” he feels your grip shift to his biceps, your hands taking fistfuls of his sleeves as you try so desperately to pull him back. “i’m still here, i just think we should really head back to the bus now, okay? s’that okay?”
it’s almost instinctive the way that you nod your head despite how you make no effort at all to move. suddenly you’re agreeable in a way that’s just so unlike yourself, because really, you would’ve said yes to anything if it meant staying this close to him. maybe it’s here that you’ve felt safe for the first time ever; maybe you’re scared that you’ll never feel like this again if you dare to let him go.
you’re grateful that he doesn’t once ask you to.
without another word, you’re lifted up just high enough to wrap your legs around his waist, and it’s by a firm hold on your thighs that he carries you back to the tour bus. with your face hidden in the curve of his neck, you don’t catch the worried glance you both get from hans as you go past, soaked down to the bone and dripping water all across the floor. you don’t see the look shared between joost and parsa as you cross through the bunks and back down the hall until you finally reach your room.
the door’s kicked shut before you’re put down, and thick digits are toying with the hem of the hoodie that you’re wearing. he waits for you to nod again before the fabric is pulled up and over your head, and you’re being given just enough room to step back and out of your shorts. it’s quietly, that you’re dressed up in clean, dry clothes, and your hair is dried with a towel that he finds on the floor. it’s not until you’re climbing into bed again that he’s turning his attention onto himself for a minute, and changing into something not so sodden.
the bed dips as the engine starts to rumble and the whole bus starts to move; beneath the duvet, gentle arms pull you back up flush against his chest.
“you didn’t deserve any of it, okay? no matter what he told you, i mean it, it wasn’t your fault.”
but you lose the words that had been on the very tip of your tongue, because suddenly, there’s a voice angry inside your head, shouting. the sound of your father demanding that you repeat after him, his mantra of ‘’i did this to myself’ so that you would know as well as him who had really been to blame for what he’d done.
it’s almost compulsive how you start to shake. how your hands fly up to cover your ears as your eyes screw themselves shut, and you curl yourself up into a ball in joost’s arms. how your breathing quickly turns ragged, and tearful, whispered pleas slip past numb, tingling lips.
“shshshsh, hey, hey, i’m here; you’re alright.” the arm that lays heavy across your waist grows tense as it hugs you even tighter. “just try to breathe, baby. i’ve got you.”
“i can hear him.”
“he’s not here.”
“he’s in my head; i can hear him.”
the mattress bounces a little at the movement — joost propping himself up above you on an elbow just beside your head. with a careful hand, he pries away one of your own and clutches it to his heart, letting you feel each and every strong beat of it underneath your palm.
“open your eyes.”
surprisingly you do, and it’s only then that you see the few wet streaks that have turned his cheeks a little rosy.
“look, it’s just me. you’re safe.” he pauses to smile meekly before raising your hand just to kiss your knuckles. “he can’t hurt you anymore; i won’t let him.”
outside, a pale ray of sunlight peaks out through the bleak grey and pours in through the windows of your room. it casts a dim shine across joost and the bright blues of his eyes; the frost-white tips of his eyebrows and the almost ginger of his moustache. you take in and focus on even the faintest details of his face because in this light, they seem almost new to you now. every pore that’s dotted over the bridge of his nose, the beauty spot that lives just below his bottom lip.
“promise?”
the bus turns a sudden sharp corner, and it’s only because of you and the grip that you still hold on his hand that he’s not tossed off the bed and onto the floor. it’s enough to make you both crack up just a little bit, the smile already on his face stretching wider as the corners of your mouth twitch ever so slightly.
he settles down beside you after a tender moment, though before you can retake your place at his side, he’s tugging you up to lay flat out across him again. the sheets bunch up all around your hips as he slips a warm hand underneath your shirt, and his fingertips start to draw odd circles along the soft skin of your spine. it’s the only thing that he knows for certain will send you off to sleep in mere minutes, and it’s in spite of the early morning traffic, that now is no different.
request: “i had an idea… joost x reader angst where they’re arguing over something stupid and joost lifts his arm up (not to hit the reader) and the reader flinches and covers themselves because they used to be abused by their father and or parents when they were young…?? i know its dark. love u and ur work tho luv”
tags: dead dove do not eat, f! reader, non-famous! reader, established relationship, once again putting a reader through absolute hell, but it’s okay because joostie is always there to save the day, parsa is also briefly there, plenty of angst but it’s sad, even more hurt x comfort but it’s sadder, all characters speak in dutch but dialogue is written in english for obvious reasons.
warnings: frequent and detailed descriptions of a ptsd attack, detailed childhood/parental abuse, rpf.
word count:
notes: so many hugs and kisses to the anon that submitted this request! it was a tough write in places, and i’ve actively put off preparing for a job interview that i have tomorrow to get it finished, so hopefully you like it just as much as i do xx — just note that it comes with a MASSIVE TRIGGER WARNING before reading!!
+ as always, so so so much love to my beta readers @blueessber , @minuutvanverval , and my friend G! :3
enjoy xx
it was subtle.
joost would have missed it if he’d blinked, the way that you had ducked your head a mere inch when he’d raised his hand just a little too high; a little too close to your face. how you had ducked your head and flinched, taking the slightest small step backwards as you’d done so, without so much as glancing his way once.
the conversation around you had still flowed, free of the weight that had then sat so uncomfortably on his shoulders, because somehow, no one else had caught it. somehow, the guilt of nothing more than a simple high-five between himself and dima became a burden that he, and only he, would have to bear. and the fact that you had still then taken his hand and not dropped it until he’d run off to go get ready for his set, and had still laughed at all of his friends’ jokes as though you hadn’t been affected by anything at all, didn’t matter. it couldn’t matter.
the image of it is still playing on repeat inside his head. the soft crinkle of your nose as your whole face had scrunched up, bracing for a hit that was never going to come. you were scared of him, for just a moment. afraid that right then and there, surrounded by so many of his friends and crew just beside the tour bus, he would put his hands on you. at the very least, it was a sign that you thought he’s even capable of doing so.
it’s not something he should still be thinking about, not whilst you’re all curled up in his arms, on his chest, lulled to sleep by the low hum of the bus engine. he’s already let it carve a permanent furrow in his eyebrows and ruin a show because he kept forgetting all the words to his own songs. now he’s letting it keep him up, and he’s staring blankly out the window instead of sleeping with his face buried deep into the crook of your neck.
but joost settles for waiting, patiently, for his own thoughts to tire him out. he lies still, counting each of your slow, gentle breaths like sheep, trying to convince himself that he’s simply just spiralling over nothing. that he’s over exaggerating, because maybe it wasn’t a flinch and you don’t think that he could ever hurt you. maybe it was just a fly that he hadn’t seen, buzzing around in your face, bothering you. maybe it doesn’t have to all be so terrible.
he feels it when you jolt; it draws his gaze away from the blur of some trees going past and back down to your face. your wide, teary eyes, and the way that your lips part as you try to remember where you are — remember whose hands are gripping onto your waist.
“i’m fine.” you speak before he can ask you if you’re okay. without meeting his eyes first, you felt that it was him, felt that it was his hold keeping you steady, his erratic heartbeat underneath your ear. you don’t want to worry him anymore than you already have. “bad dream.”
you feel him squeeze you just a little tighter. “do you want to talk about it?”
and at the sound of his voice so warm inside your ear, you chuckle against his chest, only because you can’t imagine bothering him with something so insignificant. “no, i’m fine.” instead you just stretch, yawning a little. “sorry, did i wake you up?”
softly, he shakes his head. “was it about earlier?”
it peaks your interest, makes you shift, turning around to face him until you’re resting against his sternum. “what happened earlier?”
the bus rattles beneath you. the wheels catch a pothole, and it’s only because of joost that you aren’t thrown up too high into the air. it’s enough to make you laugh again, even brighter this time, and without noticing that he isn’t quite laughing with you. his giggle is there but it’s hollow, only for show.
“when we were hanging outside with everyone, you flinched at me like i was about to…do you dream that i do things like that?”
and there are streetlights casting an orange glow across your nose, your cheeks; your eyes shine as you stare back at him. it means that he sees it when your tired smile drops into something so much sadder, and you move to sit up away from him. he sees it when your shoulders tense, and he notices it when you just can’t look at him anymore.
“no…no, i don’t. you just…you know how i am; i’m jumpy.”
joost sits up with you, and his head tips to the side. “yeah, you struggle with horror films sometimes but you watch them anyway because you love them. that’s not the same thing as thinking i’m about to hit you when i -”
but despite the late hour, you just can’t stop your voice from rising. “- no one ever said anything about you hitting me, joost.”
“so then why did you flinch?” a few seconds of silence pass, only disturbed by the faint, white noise of the traffic around you. “i high-fived my friend and you reacted like i was about to right-hook you.”
“i didn’t mean to.”
“is that something you think i’d do?”
you still won’t face him; your head still hangs low, offering him nowhere else to look other than the soft, bare curve of your spine. the mess of hair that cascades down and past your shoulders. “of course not.”
“you won’t even look at me, schatje.”
“i’m tired; i’m still waking up.”
“and that means you now can’t look at me? even though that wasn’t an issue about five minutes ago?”
something in his tone flips, changes, and his voice falls a little deeper. there’s almost an annoyance that hangs off each word, which only grows the longer that you stay quiet with your back still to him. because joost just isn’t used to being shut out like this — not by anyone and not by you, of all people. he’s a helper; people talk to him and he helps. they let him help.
and you’re not letting him help. instead you’re leaving him to sit with this thought, this fear that you really do think something so awful of him, without any possible relief whilst you simply let him. you’re still there beside him, but not truly there, not when he needs you to be.
quietly, he sighs, just loud enough for you to hear. you think he’s about to say something, maybe poke another small, indefensible hole in your logic when suddenly his arms raise, and he stretches. it’s even accompanied by a deep yawn of his own, but it’s still enough to get you though, isn’t it? enough to have you wincing, yelping, jerking to the side away from him, just in case.
“don’t.” again, immediately, you rob him of the chance to speak first. “i’m fine.”
but it only takes a surrendered, gentle plea of your name for you to start falling apart at the seams, your breathing turning heavy, laboured. you find yourself gathering the sheets up into your arms just to have something to hold onto. it’s all so dramatic, so unnecessary for something that you’ve spent so long trying so hard to forget; you blink once, twice, as many times as it takes for you to hopefully stop seeing what’s not even there.
the rising of the early morning sun casts a soft blue hue across the room. it brings with it a chill that settles along your skin, raising goosebumps, and rain that has the bus windows starting to shake inside their frames. you’re almost thankful for the noise of it, of the harsh, low thumping of each droplet hitting against the thin glass, because you’re struggling to catch your own breath.
“schatje,” in turn, joost inches forward just enough for you to be back within his grasp if he still had the heart to touch you; right now you resemble something far too similar to a landmine for him to risk that just yet. “baby, you’re not fine.”
around you, the crisp, white duvet does little to keep you warm as you shiver despite the rosy heat that sits just beneath your cheeks. “i am, i just need a minute.”
“you’re shaking like a leaf, schat.”
this just isn’t something that you ever imagined having to tell joost, is it? or anyone in your life now, for that matter. how terrified of everything you used to be; how many years you spent living in fear of someone who was supposed to protect you from all the monsters hiding underneath your bed.
“it’s not you. please, it’s not you. it’s not.” it’s a sentiment that you repeat until the words begin to lose all meaning.
“then what?” and his own are strained, catching in the very back of his throat as he fights against every natural instinct to reach out to you. “you know you can talk to me; what happened?”
“my family wasn’t like yours growing up; we never used to watch tv together.” the crease between his eyebrows deepen as he watches the rapid rise and fall of your chest; how you shake your head as though you’re trying to toss your own thoughts right out. “they were mean and they scared me, and they’re still…stuck inside my head. it was just habit earlier; it wasn’t you.”
the bus suddenly comes to a stop and you freeze only for a moment before you’re jumping up, stumbling, and swapping the sheets for a hoodie of his to keep you covered up instead. a stolen cigarette balances delicately between your lips as you slip into a pair of crocs that’ll do little to keep your feet dry from the rain. it’s still without turning to face him that you mumble something about needing some fresh air.
you don’t turn back when joost calls out for you. you don’t acknowledge it when your name starts to sound like something almost akin to a cry. it’s only the bus driver, hans, that you bless with a smile once he announces a brief stop for a petrol refill, and a chance for those of you awake to finally stretch your legs.
because it’s not just the two of you, is it? parsa’s crawling out of his bunk just in time to catch you rushing down the hall with your head down low and hood pulled all the way up, before disappearing outside. he’s there to see joost sat defeated in his bed through the wide gap in the door, all doe-eyed and raking shaky fingers throughout his hair.
he’s too torn between following you and just leaving you be for a while, that he simply does nothing.
“uhh…everything okay?” the question is hesitant — conscious of the already thin ice that it walks on.
it’s only met with a small nod; there’s a lump lodged somewhere deep in joost’s throat now that’s just large enough to choke him if he speaks.
“you gonna go after her or what?” and from the corner of his eye, parsa can see you standing just a little too close to the side of the road to be considered ‘safe’. you’re already drenched from head to toe as you take in another drag of your cigarette. “it’s fucking raining balls out there, man.”
“she just needs some air; she’ll be back in a minute.” maybe it would have been more convincing had the words not then been followed by such a soft, shuddering gasp of breath.
“nah, fuck that. go fix whatever you did and get her back in here.”
the tough love hits him somewhere between two ribs, and it hurts. the quiet implication that he just must have done something wrong, must have been the one to drive you outside and into the rain one way or another, because who else could there possibly be to blame? the faint scoff and the look that he gets before parsa disappears out of sight, and the bus door opens again. it hurts.
from the window, joost watches his friend stray no further than a mere few steps away from the bus. as your friend too, parsa lingers just in case with a morning cigarette of his own between his lips, but it’s not his place to interfere. it’s not him that’s still sitting in bed whilst you’re busy trying to catch yourself a cold.
perhaps the implication is not that joost did something wrong, but that he’s still not doing anything at all. that thought alone is enough to finally get him up, pulling what at least smells like a clean jumper over his head as he drags tired feet down the bus.
you’ve already smoked all the way down to the filter by the time that he reaches you, calling out a gentle “liefje!” before he hesitates and stops just a little further than an arms length away. wet hair clings to cold skin as you turn on the spot to face him; his shoulders drop slightly, so you know that he can see the same puffiness that you feel around your eyes now. you know you can’t blame last night’s smudged mascara for it.
“liefje,” he quickly finds himself squinting because wind keeps blowing rain into his eyes, and his nose has already turned a little pink from the cold. “if i have to bribe hans to let you smoke on the bus then i will, just — come back inside, okay? you’ll get sick.”
you sniffle, wiping your sore nose on the sleeve of your hoodie. “i just needed a minute to think, joost.”
“i know, you keep saying that.” and then quietly, you watch him sigh as he runs a trembling hand through his hair again. “tell me what to do.”
“i don’t know.” the words come out not much louder than a whisper. you know that it’s not good enough.
“tell me how i can help you. you’re not letting me help you.”
“i said i don’t know!”
ash spills to the ground as you let the butt of your cigarette fall from your fingertips. it hits cement before tumbling down into the gutter, discarded, soon to be washed away by some small, overflowing drain near by. for a second, you let your gaze drop, and you watch as it starts to slowly disintegrate at your feet.
“i’d ask for help…” you don’t see it when joost suddenly goes rigid. “i had these friends online, on fucking club penguin or something, and i’d ask them for help because i couldn’t trust anyone else…it never worked. the help never came.”
“schat…”
“i’m not sure what i expected — they were kids my age, i think. they couldn’t have done anything.”
it’s nothing short of a relief when he takes a single, short step forward, and you don’t react. if anything, you lean a little further into the space, still not quite meeting him halfway but not shying away from him anymore, either. he considers it to be progress, regardless.
“you can’t blame yourself for that; you didn’t know.”
“no, but my dad still broke my jaw when he found all the chat logs, though.”
and something old starts to ache at the memory.
the feeling of your father’s nails digging into the soft, sore flesh of your cheeks, his hot spit splattering across your face as he’d yell that you deserved this over and over again. that really, you had been asking for it, each and every strike from such worn, calloused hands, because he wouldn’t have needed to touch you at all had you just learnt to behave yourself.
he wasn’t asking too much of you, or for anything unachievable for a child of your age; his expectations were no different from any other parent, really. you were the problem — your inability to only speak when spoken to, and to only take what you were given and be grateful for it, because you were lucky to have what you did. you had a family that willingly kept a roof over your head and food on the table; a family willing to put up with you because truly, no one else would.
every time that you stepped out of line, disappointed him, you were giving him no choice, weren’t you? every bruised rib and black eye, it was always your fault.
what he did to you the night that he found all those messages sent to your friend ‘@piinkpenguingurl01’, terrified of being hurt again and begging her to tell a grown up because you couldn’t, you’d deserved worse, actually. he told you it was a kindness that he locked you away in your room for as long as he had, leaving you to starve up there for three days because your jaw was so swollen you couldn’t eat. he’d wanted to do worse. your mother would have let him.
you’re so lost in the thought of it all now, with even the slightest details falling from your lips before you could ever try to stop them, that you don’t see it when joost begins to close the gap between you. he takes one, and then another careful, not quite hesitant but slow step towards you; he doesn’t stop until his arms are around you and squeezing.
it’s protective, how he does it. how he holds you in a way that hides your face in his chest, shielding you from the rain. how he so delicately rubs a hand up and down your back as the other cups the back of your head. for just a moment, his fingers move to brush dripping hair away from your eyes, and he catches sight of the faint scar that lies just beneath your ear. he bends down to leave behind a kiss just as he’s always done, though now he can’t help but to let the touch linger.
“i’m so sorry, liefje.”
somehow, that’s the thing to finally break you.
before, you had been stiff in his arms as you’d tried to adjust to the sudden deep pressure. your eyes had still stung from all the tears that you hadn’t let fall yet.
but those four little words have you collapsing right into him, don’t they? with your arms winding around his middle, you stuff your face even further into the wet cotton of his jumper, and you cry until your nose stuffs up. it almost hurts to breathe, and you’re so cold that you can no longer fully feel your toes; the short curb beside you feels more like a cliff as you cling onto joost as though he’s the only thing stopping you from falling.
it’s why you panic when joost then tries to take half a step back — even in the state that you’re in, he misses being able to see your face.
“woah! hey,” he feels your grip shift to his biceps, your hands taking fistfuls of his sleeves as you try so desperately to pull him back. “i’m still here, i just think we should really head back to the bus now, okay? s’that okay?”
it’s almost instinctive the way that you nod your head despite how you make no effort at all to move. suddenly you’re agreeable in a way that’s just so unlike yourself, because really, you would’ve said yes to anything if it meant staying this close to him. maybe it’s here that you’ve felt safe for the first time ever; maybe you’re scared that you’ll never feel like this again if you dare to let him go.
you’re grateful that he doesn’t once ask you to.
without another word, you’re lifted up just high enough to wrap your legs around his waist, and it’s by a firm hold on your thighs that he carries you back to the tour bus. with your face hidden in the curve of his neck, you don’t catch the worried glance you both get from hans as you go past, soaked down to the bone and dripping water all across the floor. you don’t see the look shared between joost and parsa as you cross through the bunks and back down the hall until you finally reach your room.
the door’s kicked shut before you’re put down, and thick digits are toying with the hem of the hoodie that you’re wearing. he waits for you to nod again before the fabric is pulled up and over your head, and you’re being given just enough room to step back and out of your shorts. it’s quietly, that you’re dressed up in clean, dry clothes, and your hair is dried with a towel that he finds on the floor. it’s not until you’re climbing into bed again that he’s turning his attention onto himself for a minute, and changing into something not so sodden.
the bed dips as the engine starts to rumble and the whole bus starts to move; beneath the duvet, gentle arms pull you back up flush against his chest.
“you didn’t deserve any of it, okay? no matter what he told you, i mean it, it wasn’t your fault.”
but you lose the words that had been on the very tip of your tongue, because suddenly, there’s a voice angry inside your head, shouting. the sound of your father demanding that you repeat after him, his mantra of ‘’i did this to myself’ so that you would know as well as him who had really been to blame for what he’d done.
it’s almost compulsive how you start to shake. how your hands fly up to cover your ears as your eyes screw themselves shut, and you curl yourself up into a ball in joost’s arms. how your breathing quickly turns ragged, and tearful, whispered pleas slip past numb, tingling lips.
“shshshsh, hey, hey, i’m here; you’re alright.” the arm that lays heavy across your waist grows tense as it hugs you even tighter. “just try to breathe, baby. i’ve got you.”
“i can hear him.”
“he’s not here.”
“he’s in my head; i can hear him.”
the mattress bounces a little at the movement — joost propping himself up above you on an elbow just beside your head. with a careful hand, he pries away one of your own and clutches it to his heart, letting you feel each and every strong beat of it underneath your palm.
“open your eyes.”
surprisingly you do, and it’s only then that you see the few wet streaks that have turned his cheeks a little rosy.
“look, it’s just me. you’re safe.” he pauses to smile meekly before raising your hand just to kiss your knuckles. “he can’t hurt you anymore; i won’t let him.”
outside, a pale ray of sunlight peaks out through the bleak grey and pours in through the windows of your room. it casts a dim shine across joost and the bright blues of his eyes; the frost-white tips of his eyebrows and the almost ginger of his moustache. you take in and focus on even the faintest details of his face because in this light, they seem almost new to you now. every pore that’s dotted over the bridge of his nose, the beauty spot that lives just below his bottom lip.
“promise?”
the bus turns a sudden sharp corner, and it’s only because of you and the grip that you still hold on his hand that he’s not tossed off the bed and onto the floor. it’s enough to make you both crack up just a little bit, the smile already on his face stretching wider as the corners of your mouth twitch ever so slightly.
he settles down beside you after a tender moment, though before you can retake your place at his side, he’s tugging you up to lay flat out across him again. the sheets bunch up all around your hips as he slips a warm hand underneath your shirt, and his fingertips start to draw odd circles along the soft skin of your spine. it’s the only thing that he knows for certain will send you off to sleep in mere minutes, and it’s in spite of the early morning traffic, that now is no different.
19:47 — joost/gn!reader , nsfw , mdni / ageless dni !! , finger sucking , fondling(?) , joost is very sweet , ONE form of tease here tho , sweet .
—
“aw you really needed this didn't you, babe?” joost purred out. you were laid on top of his chest and was already preoccupied with having your lips wrapped around his thick fingers. you couldn't answer him, not like you wanted to anyway; the feeling was all so nice, especially with the way he would pause to press a tender kiss against your forehead after each gentle pump of his fingers.
his free hand wandered from your back to your ass, giving the flesh soft, affectionate squeezes instead of rough tugs. he watched you with eyes full of genuine adoration, his touch possessive but impossibly gentle. "that's it, sweetheart... just breathe for me," he murmured, his voice a warm caress as he guided you through the haze of pleasure. joost wanted to savor every whimper and every wet sound you made, not only to make up for lost time but to make sure you felt completely cherished.
as you finally pulled away from joost’s fingers, panting and flushed, he didn't let you retreat. instead, he pulled you flush against him, rolling until he could grind his hips slowly into yours. he let out a low, broken groan against your neck when he felt you reciprocate the movement. "fuck, you're so perfect like this," he rasped, his teeth grazing your skin while his hands cradled your face like something precious. "i love seeing you like this…this undone when i touch you. so good baby, just keep looking at me like that."
a/n | hello i am still here, UNFORTUNATELY my ask box is completely invisible and has somehow self deleted all the asks i had sitting there i was going to work on (i only worked on a couple so the ones u didn’t work on disappeared…) i wont be taking anymore requests or suggestions really for now but you can always chat anonymously with me in my inbox !!!! 😇😇
in which after a bad dream on the bus, reader struggles to convince joost that he’s not the face behind her nightmares, and she’s really not as frightened of him as she seems.
warnings: dead dove (although not yet), rpf.
find the first snippet here
“you’re shaking like a leaf, schat.”
this just isn’t something that you ever imagined having to tell joost, is it? or anyone in your life now, for that matter. how terrified of everything you used to be; how many years you spent living in fear of someone who was supposed to protect you from all the monsters hiding underneath your bed.
“it’s not you. please, it’s not you. it’s not.” it’s a sentiment that you repeat until the words begin to lose all meaning.
“then what?” and his own are strained, catching in the very back of his throat as he fights against every natural instinct to reach out to you. “you know you can talk to me; what’s happened?”
“my family wasn’t like yours growing up; we never used to watch tv together.” the crease between his eyebrows deepen as he watches the rapid rise and fall of your chest; how you shake your head as though you’re trying to toss your own thoughts right out. “they were mean and they scared me, and they’re still…stuck inside my head. it was just habit earlier; it wasn’t you.”
the bus suddenly comes to a stop and you freeze, thinking only for a moment before you’re jumping up, stumbling, and swapping the sheets for a hoodie of his to keep you covered up instead. a stolen cigarette balances delicately between your lips as you slip into a pair of crocs that’ll do little to keep your feet dry from the rain. it’s still without turning to face him that you mumble something about needing some fresh air.
you don’t turn back when joost calls out for you. you don’t acknowledge it when your name starts to turn into something almost akin to a cry. it’s only the bus driver that you bless with a smile once he announces a brief stop for a petrol refill, and a chance for those of you awake to finally stretch your legs.
because it’s not just the two of you, is it? parsa’s crawling out of his bunk just in time to catch you rushing down the hall with your head down low and hood pulled all the way up, before disappearing outside. he’s there to see joost sat defeated in his bed through the wide gap in the door, all teary-eyed and raking shaky fingers throughout his hair.
he’s too torn between following you and just leaving you be for a while, that he simply does nothing.
“uhh…everything okay?” the question is hesitant — conscious of the already thin ice that it walks on.
it’s only met with a small nod; there’s a lump lodged deep in joost’s throat now just large enough to choke him if he speaks.
“you gonna go after her or what?” and from the corner of his eye, parsa can see you standing just a little too close to the side of the road to be considered ‘safe’. you’re already drenched from head to toe as you take in another drag of your cigarette. “it’s fucking raining balls out there, man.”
“she just needs some air; she’ll be back in a minute.” maybe it would have been more convincing had the words not then been followed by such a soft, shuddering gasp of breath.
“nah, fuck that. go fix whatever you did and get her back in here.”
the tough love hits him somewhere between two ribs, and it hurts. the quiet implication that he just must have done something wrong, must have been the one to drive you outside and into the rain one way or another, because who else could there possibly be to blame? the faint scoff and the look that he gets before parsa disappears out of sight, and the bus door opens again. it hurts.
from the window, joost watches his friend stray no further than a mere few steps away from the bus. as your friend too, parsa lingers just in case with a morning cigarette of his own between his lips, but it’s not his place to interfere. it’s not him that’s still sitting in bed whilst you’re busy trying to catch yourself a cold.
perhaps the implication is not that joost did something wrong, but that he’s still not doing anything at all. that thought alone is enough to finally get him up, pulling what at least smells like a clean jumper over his head as he drags tired feet down the bus.
Jacob gets jealous when Embry and Seth flirt with you, pulling you aside to remind you—firmly and possessively—that you’re his.
……………..———————————……………….———————………….
You were used to Jacob being protective. It came with the whole shapeshifter-werewolf-territorial thing, and honestly, you loved it most of the time. There was something comforting about the way he always pulled you close, always kept an arm around you, always looked at you like you were the most precious thing in the world.
But today? Today was different.
It started when you tagged along with Jacob to Emily’s place, where the pack was hanging out after patrol. You were used to the chaos—Sam and Jared arguing over something dumb, Paul stuffing his face, Leah rolling her eyes at every single one of them—but today, two specific wolves were paying way too much attention to you.
Embry and Seth.
You liked them, of course. They were Jacob’s best friends, and over time, they had become yours too. Embry was hilarious and Seth was the definition of a golden retriever in human form. Usually, Jacob didn’t mind when they joked around with you, but today?
Today, he was glaring daggers.
It all started when you walked in, and Embry let out a low whistle. “Damn, Y/N. You sure you’re dating the right guy? Because if you’re taking applications, I’d like to submit mine.”
Jacob stiffened next to you, his body going rigid. You barely had time to react before Seth chimed in. “For real, though. You’re, like, really cute today.”
You laughed, shaking your head. “Okay, what is going on? Did you two make a bet or something?”
Embry grinned. “Nah, just stating facts.”
Jacob’s grip on your waist tightened, and you could practically feel the heat radiating off of him. “She’s been mine for years,” he said, voice low, warning. “So back off.”
You turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow. “Jake, they’re just joking.”
“They don’t sound like they’re joking,” he muttered.
Seth, completely oblivious to the tension, laughed. “Relax, dude! We all know she’s yours. But, like, can’t we compliment her?”
“No,” Jacob snapped.
Embry smirked. “Ohhh, I see what’s happening here.” He turned to you with a teasing glint in his eyes. “Your boyfriend’s jealous.”
Jacob scoffed, but his fingers dug into your hip. “I’m not jealous.”
Seth snorted. “You so are.”
Jacob rolled his eyes and pulled you closer, practically shielding you from the two of them. You sighed, deciding it was best to distract him before he did something stupid. Tugging at his hand, you tilted your head up at him. “Jake, I need help in the kitchen.”
His frown softened just a little. “With what?”
“Uh… grabbing a plate?”
He gave you a look, but you knew he’d follow. You didn’t even make it fully into the kitchen before he spun you around and pressed you against the counter, caging you in with his arms.
“Mine,” he murmured, his nose brushing against yours.
You bit back a smile. “Yeah, I know.”
He kissed you, slow and possessive, his hands trailing up your sides like he needed to remind himself that you were right there. When he finally pulled back, his eyes were still dark with jealousy. “Embry and Seth need to shut up.”
You laughed, tracing patterns on his chest. “They were just teasing you.”
“It’s not funny.” His jaw clenched. “They don’t get to look at you like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like they want you.” His grip tightened slightly. “Like they even have a chance.”
You sighed, cupping his face in your hands. “Jake. I’m yours. You know that, right?”
His expression softened at your words, and he exhaled deeply. “Yeah. I know.”
You smirked. “Good. Now, are you gonna pout all night, or are you gonna go out there and prove to them why I chose you?”
He huffed but finally cracked a smile. “Oh, I’ll prove it, alright.”
And with that, he kissed you again—this time, making sure everyone in the other room knew exactly who you belonged to.
Synopsis: The town of Forks is home to few and a stranger to newcomers. Bella Swan's return to her hometown initiates an unprecedented change in a universe far from her understanding. As her curiosity fuels her obsession over her mysterious yet isolated classmate -- Edward Cullen, Circe Woods falls victim to a curse that has hovered over her family for generations. Forced into a vulnerable state, Circe and her family are forced to take arms against their greatest threat. That 15-year-old girl she once was has been reborn.
Prologue | 1 |
My life has been centered on something far bigger than myself.
My mother would always say that our existence is sourced by a form of nature we as humans overlook a lot.
She, nature, portrays our emotions. Our tears and our angers. Our happiness and our anxiety. However, she lacks a face. She lacks the ability to create a tangible relationship with her children.
Instead, she births life to those who are to enforce her wrath. Enact her joy and protect her from her horrors.
Circe Woods and her mother, Corinne Woods, were not strangers to the damp, somber atmosphere of their little town of Forks, Washington. The home of 3,120 people, constantly covered in shrouds of clouds and rain, its people live within a bubble – surrounded by forests and wildlife, far from the crowded bustling urban world. A town filled with families that know one another, privacy a lack luster fantasy.
In the eyes of their fellow townsfolk, the Woods have always been a good family. Granted, their family name hadn't lived in the town for centuries, but the impact of Corinne's parents and their legacy spoken so grand it could be mistaken as an art of mythology, was enough to cement the family in a good light. Circe's uncle, Charlie Swan – another Forks borne hero, was an even stranger story.
The Swans – a midwestern family conjured of farmers and hunters – made Forks a home where their son, Charlie, felt accepted. His childish soul found solace in the presence of other children by the names of William 'Billy' Black, Harry Clearwater, Quil Ateara IV, and Corinne. Though separated by their racial differences, the group had found a family in each other.
To put it bluntly, Circe was a genuine mistake. A child born of blind intimacy, her lack of a father was a weaponized joke used to attack her own character and that of her mother's. As her mother's best friend and the girl's godfather, Charlie had proudly taken his stance as a father in Circe's life. Undoubtedly, she, too, had filled the hole in his heart left behind by his daughter, Bella.
Left alone and forced to face the grief of his parents' passing by himself, Charlie had solely lived his life without a thought. His responsibility as Chief of Police, sworn to protect the home of his family and friends, motivated him greatly but even then – it could never compare to the warmth that settled in his heart whenever he was around his wife and their little Isabella. And now, after years of living away in Phoenix, the young Swan was to return to her hometown and live out the last of her high school years with her father.
"Are you excited to see Bella again, love?" Corinne asks, eyes focused on the road before her.
Circe hums in thought for a moment, almond shaped eyes studying the repetitive blur of trees from her window. "Somewhat," she answers. "Bella's not going to remember me, much less socialize with the likes of a freshman."
"Oh, don't be so ridiculous," Corinne scoffs. "If she is still the same Bella as before then there's no doubt, she'd be happy to have a familiar face at school."
Corinne pulls into the muddy driveway of the Swan house; the duo jumps out of the F-150. Circe snorts, "at least she won't have to spend her time parenting her dad."
"Eh!" Corinne gasps, lightly smacking her daughter's stomach. "I told you that in secret. Don't say any of that in front of Charlie."
Bursting through the front door of the white, two-story house was a tall, slightly muscular man dawning a black, badged fleece lined coat. The uniformed man was of cool ivory skin and dark features. His dark brown, nearly black, hair was cut short and pointed every which way. His moustache was rounded and brushed over his top lip. Earthy colored eyes carried a natural sink that drastically contrasted against the slight bemusement that flashed across the onyx gems.
"Corinne, Circe," he happily greets the mother and daughter. His arms wrap tightly around Corinne's waist, landing a swift peck on the woman's cheek. "It's good to see you both."
He lets go of Corinne and pulls Circe into a one arm hug. Behind him, a short – almost frail – appearing girl steps onto the small porch. Her small figure inches towards the three, hooded brown eyes darting between the wet dirt under her battered Converse and the mirky eyes of Circe.
"Bella, you might remember them, but this is Corinne Davis and her daughter, Circe," Charlie introduces each party.
Corinne smiles at the girl, greeting her with a nod. "It's good to see you, love." Bella nods back, "it's good to see you as well."
"Hey, I'm Circe," the 15-year-old waves. "We used to play with the hens on my family's farm." Bella nods, a light chuckle slipping past her lips. "I remember."
She points at the younger girl, eyes squinting. "Is the one... it was like, black and gray. Very aggressive –" The short teen giggles, "Lucille is still kicking. Literally."
The sound of an engine revving down the slick road, a soft honk splitting the awkward tension. Two smaller, older trucks pull in front of the house. The slim, rusted champagne truck was driven by a natural golden man with silk dark hair dressed in flannel and a trucker hat.
Ahead of him in the orange truck was a boy that appeared as a younger copy of the older man. The boy jumps out of the truck, jogging over to his father's truck. He picks up a folded wheelchair from the bed of the Chevy, opening and locking it outside of his father's door. Charlie walks over to the truck and helps the boy pull the man from his seat.
Settled, the three return to the girls. Charlie looks at his daughter once more, nodding at the newcomers. "Bella, these are the Blacks," he introduces.
"This is Billy—" Bella interrupts with a warm shake of the hand as she greets the elder. "Billy Black, you're looking good," she smiles.
The man shrugs, confidently, "well, I'm still dancing." Corinne snorts, "more like spinning." The three adults giggle, sharing glances. Billy continues speaking to Bella, "I'm glad you're finally here."
"Charlie hasn't shut up about it since you told him you were coming," he sides eyes the Chief. Charlie rolls his eyes, turning to walk away. "Keep exaggerating, I'll roll you into the mud," he playfully threatens.
Billy spins in his wheelchair, "after I ram you in the ankles." The two begin to wrangle in the street, Corinne rolls her eyes and follows them.
In the meanwhile, the long-haired boy steps forward with a sheepish look. "Hi, I'm Jacob," he silently gulps. "We used to make mud pies together." His puppy-like eyes bounce between the two girls.
"Right, right," Bella nods. "I remember. Circe would make these huge ones and nail her mom's dates with them." Jacob chuckles, nodding.
He fully stares at the shorter party, studying the appearance of his friend. Circe had a beauty that was seen far and in few with almond eyes fueled with mirth and logic. Thick hair was braided and twisted, spiraling down her spine and brushing the middle of her back. The dark brown tresses mix with platinum strands like the most delicious two-toned ice cream.
Unlike most of the adolescents of Forks, she dawned dark clothes and thick boots. Her loose, knitted sweater overlapped the dark grey camisole and the sleeves droop dramatically past her small digits. Her fitted yet baggy jeans were held to her waist by a thick, bejeweled belt and torn at the knees while the shiny yet scratched tips of her boots peak through the mounds of fabric. Her accessories were a consistent theme of turquois, symbols of balance, and spiders.
She sends him a slanted grin, "Jacob." He turns flustered, back straightening as his hands dig deeper into the back pockets of his jeans. Nervous, a chuckle escapes him before a quiet: "Circe," leaves his tongue.
Outside of Nature creating these divine children, there's an aspect of life that not even she could outsmart.
Every creature that exists has another half. A friend. A lover. A sanctuary.
And despite our hearts being promised at creation, the journey to find one another is a test crafted to rebirth the souls as one union.
Jacob’s imprint and s/o plays a prank where she wipes off his kisses and jacob’s reaction to it
jake cracks me up in the same awful way that sam uley does😭😭
...
you were at jake's house helping billy out with some random things around the house while you waited for jake to get back from patrol. he absolutely loved how considerate you were when it came to his dad and was always so grateful for your help.
unfortunately for jake, you were best friends with paul and jared which oftentimes led to a lot of unnecessary shenanigans. the previous night, you'd (very unfortunately) lost a bet to the two of them and ended up needing to play a harmless prank on your boyfriend as penance.
so when jake, paul, and jared all came bustling through the door, you knew you were done for. paul and jared both wore matching grins on their faces as they leaned up against the kitchen counter, watching as jake came over to you.
"y/n," he smiled, stepping over to pull you into his arms.
you giggled, hugging him back and allowing him to hold you close to him for a few moments, "i missed you." he mumbled against your hair before loosening his grip on you so he could hold you by your biceps, "so much." he added before pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.
you glared at paul and jared, already knowing you were done for. "jake-" you giggled, brushing his kiss of your cheek with the heel of your hand.
the way his jaw dropped had paul and jared bursting into laughter, "what happened?" he asked softly after a moment, completely ignoring jared and paul's laughter as he instead slid one of his hands up to your jaw to inspect your face for any signs of discomfort or irritation.
you giggled, almost immediately folding when you saw his expression, "'m sorry," you murmured, giggling again, "lost a bet to jared and paul." you whispered which had jacob rolling his eyes before he pulled you close to his chest.
"what the hell is wrong with you two?" he grumbled to paul and jared, huffing when the two of them continued laughing as they made their way over to the living room to sit down on the couch.
"'m sorry jake," you giggled, peeking up at him, smiling when you saw how his gaze softened when he looked down at you.
"not your fault," he reassured, bending down to press his lips to yours for a soft kiss that had paul and jared gagging.
jake and reader get in a fight over bella and reader gets payback before they make up ?🧍♀️
this guy gets on my nerves fr💀💀
...
it had been 48 hours since you and jake had your blowout fight over bella's engagement to edward. for whatever reason, he was absolutely losing his mind about the whole ordeal despite the fact that he was dating you - not bella.
regardless, he'd said he wanted a break from your relationship which you were quite upset about to say the least. though, you figured if he was going to be pining after bella for the foreseeable future, you might as well have some fun with it.
so you hooked up with your ex.
and, although you loved that you were able to be with someone who wasn't hopelessly pining after another girl, you couldn't help the way your heart tugged in jake's direction.
you knew that jake knew about you hooking up with your ex, seeing as your ex had sent him a nice long text about how fucked up it was that he left you like that. regardless, you didn't feel too bad about the whole thing but still couldn't deny how much you craved being around jake.
so when he finally came to his senses and texted you asking to talk, you were quick to agree and soon enough, he came over to your apartment.
when you pulled open the door, jake was standing there absolutely soaked from the ridiculous downpour outside, "i'm sorry," were the first words out of his mouth and you almost immediately found yourself sobbing in front of him.
he was quick to step inside and pull you into his arms, holding you close despite the fact that both of you were now soaked thanks to his wet clothes, "i'm sorry," he mumbled again against your hair, gently rocking you from side to side as he held you close.
"i don't know what i was thinking," he murmured as you started to catch your breath a bit, resting your head against his chest to listen to his steady heartbeat.
"i'm sorry too," you whispered, peeking up at him as you blinked away the strray tears that clung to your lashes.
he let out a heavy exhale, nodding as he slid one of his hands up your side to gently cup your jaw, "none of this is your fault," he murmured, leaning down to press his lips to your forehead.
you sniffled, using one of your hands to gently wipe away the stray tears that had fallen down your cheeks, "can we just take a shower and lay down? i hate this," you murmured, peeking up at him and he nodded, pressing another soft kiss to the crown of your head before releasing you.
the two of you got into a hot shower, gently helping each other wash off before you got changed into some comfy pajamas and into bed so you could cuddle for the rest of the night.
"jake," you let out a breathy laugh as he slid both of his hands onto your hips, guiding you through the crowd of people at your sister's graduation party at the cullen's house.
he just rolled his eyes, sitting down at one of the couches and pulling you into his lap so he could hold you close to him, "you're being a bit dramatic, don't you think?" you asked teasingly, smiling as you peeked up at him and he just shook his head, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.
"not dramatic," he reassured, laughing softly as he squeezed you closer to him, eliciting a series of giggles from you, "gotta make sure my girl stays safe, yea? don't need you gettin' hurt." he explained, noticeably relaxing as you leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder.
the two of you stayed like that for a moment before alice came down to the stairs, smiling when she saw you before her expression dropped as she had a vision.
you were quick to get up, jake getting up right behind you as he slid his hand into the back pocket of your jeans. the two of you quickly followed alice into carlisle's office where the rest of the cullens were.
alice quickly explained her vision to everyone while you sat down in one of the chairs, jake coming to stand behind you and slide his hands over your shoulders, "so there's a newborn army coming here?" you emphasized, both you and your sister letting out a heavy sighs as you realized how dangerous the situation was for everyone involved.
"the wolves will help out," jake volunteered from behind you, gently squeezing your shoulders as you looked over your shoulder to glare at him.
"jacob-" you started but he quickly cut you off, not at all interested in hearing your argument against him.
"i'm not letting some clan of rogue vampires get anywhere near you," he explained before adding, "we'll be fine." he reassured, leaning down to press a soft kiss to the crown of your head as you huffed and rolled your eyes, already knowing there was no use in arguing with him.
"that would be very helpful," carlisle said softly, "but you'll need training. are you all able to come train tomorrow with jasper? y/n, you and bella can come and watch." carlisle suggested, offering you a soft smile as you let out a heavy exhale before nodding.
Hii<3 I've read about the knotting with Paul and Seth, could it be possible to make one with Jacob? Have a great day/night!
🐺anon :]
"hey, hey," jacob murmured, sliding one hand down to your lower back to stabilize you as the other hand held your head close to his chest, knowing how easily you could get worked up, "you've got it," he reassured, pressing a soft kiss to your temple as you let out a loud hum of disapproval.
"jake-" you whimpered, lifting your head to look at him, a pout adorning your features that had him melting inside, "'s really uncomfortable," you murmured, anxiously waiting for him to come up with some kind of solution for you.
he let out a soft sigh and nodded, "i know," he said softly, sliding his hands down to your hips as you sat up on his lap, letting out another loud whimper at the new position, "i need you to take a few deep breaths for me, okay?" he asked, gently giving your hips a soft squeeze when he noticed you anxiously looking down at the small bulge in your belly from him.
"don't look at that-" he started, already knowing you'd be working yourself up even more than you already were. he slid his hand up to your jaw, gently prompting you to look at him instead, "take some deep breaths with me, yea?" he asked, waiting for you to nod before he was slowly taking in a deep breath with you and holding it for a moment before releasing.
"there we go," he cooed, "such a good job," he murmured, offering you a soft smile as you took a few more deep breaths as he instructed.
"starting to feel better yet?" he asked softly, letting out a small laugh when you huffed but offered him a small nod nonetheless, "that's what i thought," he teased, smiling when you laid back down on his chest and wrapped your arms around his neck, listening to his heartbeat while he slid his hands around your waist to hold you close to him while the two of you waited for him to be able to disconnect the two of you.
jacob with a reader who has a praise kink is something i craveee 😩😩
short but cutie!! 🥺
...
"such a good girl for me aren't you?" jacob asked teasingly as you let out a loud moan when he sheathed himself inside you, absolutely loving how much of a mess you became from just having his cock inside you.
you eagerly nodded, "'m your good girl," you murmured, running your fingers up his chest as you worked at accommodating his length. jacob just let out a breathy laugh, nodding.
"my good girl," he reassured, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead, "now are you gonna lay there all nice and pretty for me while i make you feel good?" he asked, already knowing your answer before he said it, smiling to himself when you nodded again.
"that's my good girl," he mused before he was drawing his hips back so he could set a slow, steady pace as he fucked you. you let out a loud whine at the first thrust, loving how he managed to brush his cock up against that particularly sensitive spot inside you from the get go.
"takin' my cock so well," he praised as he picked up the pace a bit, reaching down to press down on your clit, sending your brain into a tizzy as you tried to process all the pleasure coursing through you at his actions.
"jake-" you whimpered, dropping your head back as you closed your eyes, allowing yourself to fully immerse in all the pleasure he was giving you.
"such a good girl," he murmured as he rolled your clit between his fingers, smiling to himself when he saw the moans and whimpers you let out at the action.
within a few minutes, he had you teetering on the edge of your first orgasm of the night, his steady thrusts combined with the way he was toying with your clit had you a complete subby mess on his cock.
"you gonna cum on me?" he asked breathlessly, his tone letting you know he was working at holding his own orgasm off until you came. you nodded, letting out a particularly lewd moan as he pressed down on your clit at your nod, "let me see you cum on my cock, yea? wanna see how good i'm makin' you feel," he encouraged, voice tight as he began desperately snapping his hips against yours, his encouragement, combined with the way he rolled his hips against yours had you cumming on his cock in a matter of moments.
as you rode out your much needed orgasm, jake met his own release right after you, immediately spilling his release inside of you as he watched you cum on him.
Can you do a Jacob black x female reader during mating season please and thank you ?
here you go lol
"fuck, bend over-" the words hadn't even fully left his lips before jacob's hands were on your hips and spinning you around so he could press your chest down on the cool marble of your apartment's bathroom counter.
"jake-" you whined when you felt the sensation against your bare chest, your nipples already beyond hard from how much he had been toying with them earlier in the night. a loud gasp left your lips as he sheathed his cock into your tight channel in one quick thrust.
he could hardly contain his laugh when he saw the way your fingers curled into fists in response to the sudden intrusion, his hands keeping their bruisingly tight grip on your hips while he prepared to fuck you senseless.
he only gave you a moment to stretch around his length before he felt your walls fluttering around him and he decided he couldn't wait any longer, immediately setting a ruthless and unforgiving pace as he snapped his hips against yours.
you were letting out loud whines and moans, the thought of your poor neighbors hearing the two of you not even crossing your fuzzy mind. jake had gotten over to your apartment early that morning, more restless than he currently was as his rut first set in.
you'd answered the door without a clue in the world, quickly finding out that he'd planned on fucking you senseless for the next few days while he went through his first rut with you in his life.
one hand was snaking around your hip in search of your clit, the loud moan you let out a few moments later alerting him that he'd most definitely found the sensitive little nub, "jake please-" you sobbed out, suddenly much more aware of the tears that must've started spilling over your waterline a few moments prior as you looked into the mirror to make eye contact with your imprinter.
jake let out a laugh when he saw what a mess you were, his smile still soft despite the harshness of his thrusts in and out of your pussy, "c'mere," he chuckled, reaching his free hand up to thread his fingers through your hair, tightening his fingers so he could pull you up from the counter so your back was flush against his chest, "you wanna cum on my cock?" he asked, rolling your clit between his fingers as you watched the way he was absolutely ravaging your pussy in the mirror.
you couldn't find the words, just gasping as you nodded, desperate to cum on his cock, "'s what i thought," he chuckled, "let me play with you for a few more minutes and then you can cum, yea? wanna stay in this pussy for a little while longer," he mused, his voice somehow remaining steady despite how hard he was fucking his cock into your tight little channel.
you sucked in a desperate lungful of air, sniffling as you nodded, already knowing he was more in tune with how much you could handle than you were, "mhm," you hummed, letting out a loud moan and dropping your head back against his neck when he pinched your clit between his fingers, his silent way of thanking you.
jake dropped his head so he could pepper your neck with kisses, the softness coming in bruising contrast to the havoc he was currently wreaking on your lower half, "look how good you look with my cock in you," jake chuckled, releasing his grip on your hair so he could slide his hand down to your belly, absolutely loving how he could see the faint little bulge that came each time he filled you with his cock, "taking me so well," he added in between kisses.
you were barely coherent, just doing your best to remain upright as your thoughts continued to get fuzzier and fuzzier as you tried not to cum on his cock. jake knew you were close from the way he felt your walls tightening around him, his own orgasm rapidly approaching as well as his thrusts somehow picked up the pace to the point you were sure you'd have bruises littered all across your middle tomorrow morning.
once he was confident he had marked your neck up to his satisfaction, he was lifting his head to press his lips to your ear, "you can cum," he murmured sliding his hand up from your belly so he could wrap it around your chest and secure you against him, already knowing he'd be responsible for supporting you while you came undone on him.
you whimpered, lifting your gaze to make eye contact with him through the mirror, moving to respond but before you could, jake rolled your clit between his fingers and sent you right over the edge to your orgasm.
jake held you close to him while you came, his thrusts getting sloppier as he chased his own orgasm and supported you through yours, your throbbing walls pulling his own orgasm out of him within a few moments of yours.
"fuck me-" jake groaned, pushing his hips into yours as much as he could, burying his cock inside your pussy as he shot his seed into your throbbing channel.
you were nearly limp, wrapping your hands around his forearm that he has wrapped around your chest to support you. breathing ragged and heavy, the two of you were both struggling to catch your breaths as you both came down from your highs, "nice and easy," jake murmured breathlessly against your ear, his breath hot as he gave your ribs a squeeze, smiling to himself when he saw how hard you were struggling to regain your senses.
"there you go," jake encouraged, both of your breathing slowly evening out as he peppered the crook of your neck with gentle kisses, a stark contrast to the way he had his cock stuffed inside you.
once he was sure he'd finished filling you up, he slowly pulled his hips back enough to pull his softening cock out of your walls, his release following shortly after as it began trickling down your thighs.
he slowly unwrapped his arm from around you, "i got you," he reassured when he heard the soft whimper you let out, both of you already knowing there was no way you were going to be standing on your own for a little while. both his hands remained steady on your figure as he helped spin you around so he could pull you close to his chest for a hug, "did so good for me sweet girl," he praised, lips curling into a smile when he heard the breathy giggle you let out at the complement.
"let's get you on the bed, okay? gonna clean you up and then you can have a break," he suggested, already knowing you weren't in any kind of headspace to be coming up with any counter-arguments to his proposition despite how much you hated being cleaned up.
you just hummed, allowing him to scoop you up in his arms and carry you back into the bedroom so you two could finally take a break.
HI BABY I AM ABSOLUTELY IN LOVE WITH YOUR JACOB SERIES !!
i was wondering if we could get a part three 😇😇🤍🤍
Lack of Thinking
Pairing: Jacob Black x Uley!reader
Characters: Jacob Black, Uley!reader, Sam Uley, Emily Young, Paul Lahote, Embry Call, Quil Ateara V, Billy Black, Bella Swan
Warnings: Angst, fluff, bella being a warning, this was so annoying to write lol, bc of bella, that's why it took forever ahh, the pack being readers bodyguards, mentions of pain, mentions of broken bones, boys cry too, reader being pushes too far, imprint bonds hurt, jake is emotionally constipated and it shows
Word Count: 2.5k
A/N: Omg, you all are so adorable. It somehow became a series, lol. Yes I am sooo down to write another part... I did leave it the way I did last time so I could, hehe. Gotta give the people what they want.
He continues picking up his random shirts off the ground. “I don’t know what to tell you.”
“You- you’re seriously going to defend her after all of the shit she has put you through?” You ask, your voice slightly elevating as you think about all of the things Bella has done to hurt your-
He sighs, “look you don’t get it-”
You scoff, “no Jake.”
You make your way to the door, “I understand perfectly.” You run your tongue over your front teeth. “You can talk to Sam, who can tell me when it’s over until this fight- battle whatever happens, don’t bother calling me.”
You run down the stairs knowing he can catch you sooner than you’d like but you don’t care as you sprint past Billy.
You step outside when your body stops you. It feels like you’ve been set on fire and it hurts so much.
Jake reaches for his chest, rubbing his heart.
You grunt and take a deep breath, marching outside. You’re hurting as you rush home.
Emily doesn’t have a chance to turn around fully to check on you as you rush past her and head to your room.
-
You didn’t realize how much time went by until a comforting hand rubbing your shoulder wakes you up from your impromptu nap.
You turn and find your uncle sitting on the edge of your bed. You wipe the sleep from your eyes. “What time is it?”
“Past dinner time.”
You wrap your arms tighter around the fox he had gotten you a few weeks ago. He chose it because of how easily you can move among the wolves and that silver tongue of yours.
“Em’s cleaning up, the boys went home.”
A cough coming from the opposite side of your closed door almost gets a chuckle out of you.
“Paul stayed.”
“And I’m not going anywhere, Princess.” He barges in and takes a spot on your bed, laying his head on your lap. “What’re we watching? “He’s an idiot and knows it” that sounds like a good one.”
“Paul,” Sam starts off.
“What? C’mon, he’s got it coming. He’s running back to the leech lover and for what?”
You place your hand on his forehead, not wanting him to lose it; he starts to calm down. You don’t wanna sleep on box springs again because of him wolfing out.
“Let’s go downstairs,” you interrupt the two before things can escalate.
The two walk slowly behind you as you take your time walking to the kitchen.
Emily smiles softly at you, setting the plate down in front of you. “I made sure to save some before they could eat it all.”
You weakly smile back at her. You can tell they’re trying not to talk about it even though that’s all they want to ask you.
It’s easy to read the three at times like this, even when they think they’re doing good at hiding it.
You don’t say much during the evening, listening to them as they talk amongst themselves.
With how close your aunt was close to knocking out, you knew you should go to bed and do the same.
You lay awake staring at the ceiling wondering if- if- you roll over and sigh. You don’t think Jacob is doing the same, or if he even cared enough to call or text goodnight even though you two are fighting- or aren’t?
You roll your eyes. ‘It’s not like you’re in a relationship or anything.’ You clench your fist hating how much this is affecting you.
You close your eyes listening to the rain.
-
‘You can’t stay out there all night, you’ll be soaked by the time morning comes around.’
He huffs, slightly baring his canine’s at the alpha before him.
Sam rolls his eyes. “Fine, if you want to stay out there, don’t expect me to get you a towel or to let you in after the shit you pulled today.”
Jacob rolls his eyes in his wolf form, not at all caring how disgraceful he’s being to the man.
He doesn’t know how he’s going to make it up to you, but once this is over… he’s going to do all he can to make it up to you.
-
You roll over, barely opening your eyes to turn off your alarm. You take a deep breath and close your eyes. You don’t know if you should sleep or not, knowing if you tried someone would be coming to wake you up.
Your eyes snapped open at the floorboard creaking outside your door. You’d be pissed if Paul came through the door and dragged you out of bed.
You push yourself up and take in everything. You throw the covers off you.
The cold didn’t bother you as much today. You couldn’t tell what it was exactly but you knew something was off.
You forced yourself to get dressed with the little energy you have.
You walk downstairs, ignoring the boys.
Emily smiles at you and gets a plate ready for you.
You sit at the stools placed in front of the counter, zoned out, unable to hear them plan on how they were going to take care of the newborn whatevers.
You pause as you bite into your bacon.
He's here. You can sense it.
Paul places a hand on your shoulder. “We'll be back soon, alright.”
You nod, keeping your head down. You can sense Jacob’s presence.
“I'll take you out for ice cream after kicking his ass.”
You shake your head, glancing back at him. “Just come back safe.”
He offers a small smile.
Your eyes catch his as he inched closer to the door. You lower your gaze and turn away.
The other pull him away.
You grunt quietly as you reach for your chest.
“Hey, you okay?” Emily asks as she cleans up.
You want to nod but it hurts too much. You wince and start hyperventilating. “Em, I can't,” you whimper. “It hurts.”
She drops the container she was holding and rushes around the counter, wrapping an arm around you. “Let's get you back into bed.”
You and her struggle but you make it.
She brushes hair out of your face and feels how warm you are. “Oh honey.”
-
Paul growls at her.
“Calm down.”
“How can I when she's the reason we're in this shit,” he grunts to Sam.
“This isn't the way to-”
Jacob's cries of pain interrupted.
“How are we going to tell her about him?”
Sam goes quiet. He was already wondering the same and couldn't find an answer. “We don't even know if this is affecting her right now and-”
Bella walks into the house.
“For fu-”
“Paul, outside,” Sam orders him. “Bella,” he turns to the cause of all this. “You need to go.”
“But I'm the reason-”
The alpha nods. “And that's why you need to go.”
“But I can help.”
“You've done enough.”
“I’m the reason he’s hurt-”
Sam nods, “and that’s why I’m asking you to leave. You and those things you associate yourself with have caused enough pain for one day. You need to go. I won’t ask again.”
She almost looks pitiful with how wide her eyes became as he kept true to his word. “I’m sorry,” her words are low enough for anyone of the non-supernatural world to hear.
They all watch to make sure she leaves before returning to Jacob. “Can you really help him?” Sam turns to Carlisle, who kept a calm gaze even after the snide remark the alpha made.
The doctor nods. “I can, that’s why I offered my help.”
“If you hurt him-”
“Hurting him would do nothing but bring more trouble for me and my family. I am one of the only few who would be able to help him considering,” he pauses. “His condition.”
“Fine,” Sam sighs. “But I’m not leaving this room.”
“As you wish. I might need a hand holding him down when I reset his bones, so the more the better for him.”
-
You whine in your sleep and Emily doesn’t know how to calm you down.
The phone startles her as she reaches for it, seeing Billy Black across the screen.
She gasps as he explains what happened and why you might be acting off. “She’s hardly moving, Billy. I had to drag her to bed because she said she couldn’t breathe. She knew something was wrong but didn’t understand what it was.” She places a hand on her face.
“I’ll send a couple of the boys over to bring you two over.”
He pauses, “they can’t be apart anymore than they have now.”
“Oh, oh, right. That- that makes sense. Okay.”
Embry and Paul came over, both were heartbroken at the sight of you.
You were sweating and shivering badly with how loud your teeth were chattering. You whimper as Paul reaches for you.
“Be careful,” Emily tells them off instinct.
“Come on, Em,” Embry holds a hand out for her as they reach the stairs.
-
The car ride over was a bitter one.
Paul still wanted to kill Bella (not literally, possibly her leech boyfriend though).
Embry was sad at the sight of you and hated that Jacob was sort of the cause of it all.
Emily was worried for everyone and was nauseous with how anxious she was.
Once Jacob was taken care of, Carlisle took his leave but not without noticing the shift in the air once the four of you arrived.
The boys and Emily wait until the oldest of the Olympic coven takes his leave before bringing you any closer.
“I don't like this,” Emily whispers into Sam's chest, worried for the two of you.
“I know.”
Paul and Embry moved the blanket, seeing as Jacob already made space... for his missing piece.
As soon as your friend set you down, there was an obvious change in the air, energy of the room, and with the two of you.
Their pack mate stopped clenching his jaw and his muscles looked as though they finally relaxed.
And you finally looked like you could breathe again and your hands came unclenched.
Billy shooed them out, wanting you two to get as much rest as you could before morning.
-
You woke to the sound of someone crying.
You blinked, finding yourself in an oddly familiar room but it was hard since there wasn't much light.
A hand tugged you closer and you realized where- who you were with.
You groan at his touch, grumpy to have been woken up and also because you have to face him again.
“Please,” he begs. He leans in closer, resting his forehead on your temple. “Let me enjoy this, be close to you for one night and then you can go back to hating me.”
You roll your eyes and close your eyes, sleepily pushing yourself closer to him; his heartbeat lulling you to sleep.
He whispers into your hair but you can't make out the words as it gets darker and your body shuts down for a deeper sleep.
-
You wake to the sound of hushed whispers.
You frown at the disruption. “I just want to sleep,” you whine.
“And slept you did, princess,” Paul says with a smug tone.
You open one eye, still frowning. “What?”
“It's been like what a whole day and a half since we brought you here and you've been asleep for half of that.”
You yourself up, not realizing your shoulder bumped into Jacob's jaw.
The boys chuckle watching as he frowns, reaching for his jaw.
“What?”
“Yeah. You and this idiot have been in bed for a while.”
Your head snaps towards him as your eyes widen. “Okay, I'm leaving. Paul, get the truck.” You scoot towards the edge of the bed, suddenly freezing as his arm falls from your waist.
“Wait,” he reaches for your wrist. “Can we- can we talk?”
Paul shoves the others out after you give him the okay to leave.
“Talk about what? Shouldn't you want to talk to your girlfriend?” You reach for your shoe, slowly slipping it on.
“I- I told you it's not like that.”
You scoff. “Okay, Jake. Then what is it like?” You spring up off the bed. “Because one second, you and I are having a good time and then all of a sudden when her life is in danger, you forget I exist. Your imprint. The one you’re supposed to care about. The one you are bonded too for life, doesn’t exist to you. Tell me how am I supposed to take it,” you hissed.
You roll your eyes, aiming to leave. “Call me when you get your head out of your ass.”
-
You rush downstairs, angry and annoyed to stay any longer. “I’m going home whether you all want to join me or not.”
Paul and Embry spring out of their chairs, ignoring Billy and Sam’s looks. “We’re coming with you.”
You turn away from the stairs as he barrels down. “You can’t go, it’s raining. You’ll get sick.”
A scoff mixed with a chuckle escapes you, “watch me.”
You three take a step closer to the door as he calls for you again.
“Jake, get it through your head, man,” Paul starts. “She doesn’t want to be here so we’re going with her.”
“I hate to do this, Jake. But I’m not going to leave her alone when all you’ve been doing is be an idiot,” Embry adds.
“You guys have no right to talk.”
You push them to the sides. “Don’t talk to them like that,” you growl.
A sudden shift in the air causes everyone’s eyes to widen.
Sam slowly pushes himself off the chair, making his way towards you. “You need to calm down.”
“I am tired of hearing that,” you groan. “I am tired of everyone telling me how I feel or should feel. I just want to not be told how I should be or feel. I want to be me but I haven’t been since you,” you point at your imprint. “Started lurking around Bella. So consider this a hiatus from being my imprint because I am tired of your bullshit.”
You turn to Billy, Emily, and Sam. “And I am sorry for cursing but he is so,” you clench your fists. “I just can’t right now.”
You spin around and exit the Black family household without looking back.
-
You regret not grabbing the keys to Emily’s car as you start running through the forest. You remember where the treaty lines were put in place when Sam started filling you in more on the family legends.
Your legs give out as you get closer to the ledge where the pack likes to jump from.
You groan as your face lands in the dirt; your vision fading.
You struggle to keep your eyes open as pain floods your mind.
You fight hard to blink at the large paw in front of you.
Your eyes close, your hearing muted as the world around you fades.
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12
WARNINGS: BELLA’S “DEATH”, LOSS, ANGST, HURT/COMFORT, READER RELIVING TRUMA, JACOB AND READER FIND COMFORT IN ONE ANOTHER, DESCRIPTION OF DEAD EYES AND BODY
Summary: this is it, this is the day Bella Swan dies to give birth to the unborn baby she truly loves. But unfortunately for you and Jacob you both have to live through a traumatic experience. The desth of your childhood friend is hard. Especially when you have to watch it happen. And reader relives the experience of looking another dead loved one in the eyes.
Tage list: @coldonez aka the love of my life😘
——————
After you and Bella talked, a bond once faded and broken is repaired. Slowly Bella is getting better and regaining her strength, due to the blood she’s consuming. It’s…an adjustment for both you and Jacob, but you’re both just happy to see some color return to her skin.
Bella lets you feel her baby bump, it’s like something is speaking to you. Sowing you what can be heard from the baby’s place in Bella’s womb. The child shows you your own voice, and the way it comforts both the baby and its mother.
In that moment, you realize that you are really fighting for the right thing. This baby is not demon or monster, but a good, kind soul like its mother. You sit there, sharing this beautiful moment with her. Bella looks so alive, her face is lighten up with joy. Her eyes are bright and filled with life.
You give her some space when Charlie calls. You watch for the entryway into the living room, not wanting to take your eyes off her. You watch her distress grow, the way he face fills with sorrow as she speaks to her father. You see how upset she is after ending the call, and before you can comfort her Edward appears. You step back after he gives you a pleading look, he looks tired and worn down, eyes black, drained. You’re not thrilled with the idea of letting him comfort Bella, considering how little he’s been there for her throughout the entire ordeal. But…for all that it’s worth, you know it’s all a part of his struggle with watching his wife slowly die. So you let Edward be the one to comfort Bella.
———
“Hey.” Jacob says softly, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your body. “Hey.” You whisper back, as you watch the couple make up and laugh as thier baby kicks. They look normal, like a parents should be when expecting a baby. It makes you wonder.
“Do you think we’ll ever have kids?” You ask softly, adopting is always and option, or you could have some of your own. “I donno, I think I’d like to marry you first.” Jacob speaks slow and certain, the timber of his voice brings you a peace beyond measure. He body against breaths life back into your tired bones. “Is that so.” You say, a liveliness fills your voice at the thought.
“It is so, I want you in every way possible.” Jacob breaths out and kisses your neck. And your body is in a state of shock, he wants you in every way possible. God this man really knows how to rile you up. “Careful. I’m not above jumping your bones in another person’s home.” Jacob laughs and kisses your neck once more. It’s the kind of peace only he can provide you.
Here in this moment, you’re just some normal human, standing with the love of you life. Watching you friend and her husband relish in the beautiful experience of the begins of parenthood. Before Jacob steals you away for a quiet moment alone.
“How are you holding up?” Jacob asks softly, he’s dragged you to a spare bedroom you and him have been staying in. He’s rubbing your arms up and down, it’s a comforting gesture. “Honestly, I don’t know.” You and Jacob have learned that being truthful is better than trying to act tough around each other. “Sometimes I feel like I’m not even present. Like mentally I’m just not here. But when I am here...” you begin to tail off and stare into nothingness.
“When I am here, it takes all my strength and energy not to break down. It feels like what happened to my dad is happening all over again Jacob.” You voice cracks and Jacob pulls you in close. He wraps his arms around you and it’s like he’s trying to shield you form the whole world. “I don’t know if I can handle going through something like that again.” You hate how vulnerable and broken you feel, as you dig your face into Jacobs chest and breathe in his scent.
“You won’t, I’ll be here. I’m not going to let you do this alone. I promised you I’d never let you feel lonely again.” Jacob kisses the top of your head as he slowly sways you both side to side. “I love you, more than anything. And whatever comes we will face it together.”
———
You watch as Bella’s body contortions and twists when her spine is broken. You watch in horror as she falls to her knees. And everything else is a blur, all you know is that you’re following Bella to wherever she’s been taken. Her baby is coming and Carlisle is still out hunting. You’re holding her hand as she tires to breath through her pain.
It’s horrible, Bella is too weak for a natural birth. So she has to be cut open, you watch in horror as Rosalie makes the incision. Bella screams out in pain and you snap back to try and offer what little comfort you can provide. She’s yelling and screaming that the baby needs to get out, or else her baby girl will die. Edward has to bite his way through Bella’s skin to get the baby out.
You can’t look away as it happens, till Bella’s screams ripples through your brain. Jacob is by your side, the both of you are living through a traumatic experience with Edward and Bella. One that will form a bond between the four of you later on. But for now, it’s like your own personal hell. Finally, you babies cries can be heard. And relief floods your system.
Edward looks so overwhelmed but joyful as he holds his baby girl. And you watch the wonderful moment of Bella and Edward becoming parents.
———
And for only a moment, you let yourself believe that Bella will survive. You let yourself exist in the happy, beautiful moment of watching your best friend become a mother. You see how unbelievably overjoyed Bella is in this moment, looking at her beautiful baby girl. “She’s beautiful.” Bella says softly, and the love that fills her voice brings a smile to your face. You get to see Bella in a new light, she’s a mother, a loving and beautiful mother.
You watch as she holds her newborn baby. “You’re so beautiful.” She whispers once more laughing softly, and then grimacing in pain. As Edward takes the baby for her, she looks to you. You let yourself experience this happy moment. Till Bell’s eye lock with yours, and her smile fades rom her face. “Take care of my little girl.” She whispers out. And your stomach drops as dread fills your bones.
You watch as the light fades from Bella’s eyes, her eyes starting into your own…she’s not breathing. You’re frozen, starting into the lifeless, bleak eyes of Bella Swan. The husk of a person she once was. You think of her laugh, her shy smile, her awkward tendencies, and begin to realize…you will never hear her laugh, never see that smile of hers again.
Bella is dead, giving birth to a child that literately sucked the life out of her throughout the pregnancy. You can’t move your body, you can’t look away from her glassy dead eyes starring unblinkingly into your soul as her corpse lays on a table. You don’t hear anything, just ringing in your ears. You stare into her eyes, and suddenly you’re 7 years old again. Starring at the same dead eyes of the man you idolized more then anything or anyone. They said it was a blood clot that traveled up into his brain, one they didn’t even know was there. But you found an away to blame yourself, and as you begin to blame yourself once more for Bella’s death. The face of your father shifts and contorts into Bella’s as her voice fills your ears.
“Take care of my little girl.” How can you raise the child that killed your best friend. How can you raise her when you can’t even look people in the eyes. That child will have her eyes, you can’t even imagine what to do with that. Your lungs burn as you will yourself to breathe, someone anyone please please don’t let this be real.
Jacob stops yelling at Edward and turns to you. Upon seeing your reaction, feeling your distress and every emotion that is flowing throw you, Jacob gabs you and holds you close and takes you out of the room. He lets you burry your face into his chest as you heave out sobs. And there, on the porch of the Cullen’s house. You and Jacob morn together, you both sob and hold each other close as you morn the death of your friend.
Bella was awkward and unusual, but that was what you loved about her. She used to make you walk for miles just to listen to the leaves crunch in the fall, as you talked about school and gossiped. She loved reading and listening to old fashioned music, watching horror movies and crime documentaries late into the night. You begin to regret not spending more time with her, you wish you had cherished the small sweet innocent moments that you used to spend with her.
You wish you made fun of her boyfriend more just to see her laugh and get defensive about the pale man-boy. You wish you had spent the time to memorize the sound of her laughter or the way she smiled. You wish you spent more time at her wedding, watching her dance horribly and regretting not joining her.
Bella Swan is dead and gone, and you’ll never be able to see the mother she could’ve been. Never get to see her happy and in love again. He dead, glassy and hollow eyes will haunt you for the rest of your life. You’ll never be able to forget them, you’ll never forget her screams or the look of pain in her face. The smell of her blood as she laid there dying.
How come your prays are never answered…
———
Sam calls off the fight, he watches your face, how broken and lost you look. He sees how tired and worn down you and Jacob both are, he looks at you and sees husks of the teens you were. The both of you look too pained for young adults.
It’s then that Sam realizes, non of this is worth destroying the family that’s been built. None of the pack members actually have the strength for this fight, non of their hearts are in it. They’re all so torn up, Quill alone is enough to make Sam realize just how much this fight will truly cost them. They all heard your cries, they head Jacob trying to sooth you. They had seen from the forest, your face, broken and emotionless as days passed and wore you down. They had watched Jacob’s light want warms slowly fade and die out, leaving him hollow and pale looking.
This was a family, and now it’s so broken and devastatingly divided Sam worries he’s pushed too far. That there’s no going back, no fixing what has been broken. Quill has been a mess ever since Embry left. Emily is livid at Sam’s choices. Paul is always on edge, fighting between his loyalty to the pack and his loyalty to the family that’s been formed. Paul promised you he’d beat the shit out of whoever hurt you and now it’s him doing the hurting. They all feel lost, and Sam cannot follow through with this plan. Not when he can see how much pain and suffering you and Jacob are going through. So, they leave but some go forth to reconcile and make amends, to comfort those who need it most.
Quill finds Embry quickly, both in human form and both equally suprised to see each other. There is so much that they need to say, but for now all they want to do is hold each other.
Seth comes and comforts you and Jacob as best he can. When Paul comes up to the both of you. He’s awkward and doesn’t know what to do. You and Jacob look so small and broken. He sighs and joins Seth in an attempt to sooth you both.
“Sam called it off. This isn’t worth losing our family over.” Paul says softly. And you break down even more, why did Bella have to die for them to see that? Why did life have to always be so hard, when could you finally catch a break? You thought that nothing could come between all of you. But all it took for everything to fall apart was one unborn child.
Jacob holds you impossibly closer as you both sob. For Bella, for the daughter of hers that will never know her mother’s presence, for the deep loss of the every single one of your teen years. You and Jacob are two young for any of this, all of you are far too young for this kind of pain and sorrow. Seth is barely 15 years old. Fucking 15 years old, what is wrong with this stupid fucking world.
You’re just barely young adults, you’re not equipped for this. But, for the first time, you don’t have to go through this alone. You and Jacob have each other, someday maybe you’ll even have the pack back together.
———
Carlisle reveals to you all that Bella is going through the process of becoming a vampire. All the morphine in her system is making it painless for her. It’s a relief beyond words. Even as you watch her progress, watch he hair gain color, watch the mending of her broken bones. You still can’t fully process it all. You and Jacob end up leaving to go back to his house.
You and him are exhausted and worn down, broken and shattered. And all you want to do is hold each other and sleep. Take comfort in one another and fully process all you have suffered though. And that’s exactly what you do, you’re both at your most bear and vulnerable moment. Aching and bleeding with pain and horror.
But you have one another, you sooth each other as you wake up throughout the night. Nightmares and terrorizes of the night that plague your mind, soul, and heart. You both sit there, and piece together one another. Take solace and comfort in the warm and loving embrace of one another.
You and Jacob will survive this, and your relationship will be stronger and more secure. Knowing that at your lowest point, you both say together and comforted one another.
And you sit with Jacob the next morning, helping him cut his hair for the very last time. “Why did you cut it all in the first place?” You ask softly, through your course and tired throat, raw form all your sobbing. “We cut it when we first phase, to morn the people we once were. Most of us are supposed to grow it back out. But some of us just feel like we keep losing pieces of ourselves.” Jacob spoke so quietly and softly, his voice raspy from his own cries. As you cut his hair another question comes to mind.
“Is that why it took you so long to grow it back out?”
“Yeah, but now…now I feel like I’ve got everything I need right here in this room. And I like who I am again.”
——————
MUHAHAHAH
Bet you thought you’d have time to recover from part 12. TOO BAD I HAVE BEEN WORKING ON THIS ONE FOR A WHILE NOW!
This will be the last devastating part. The rest will be healing and loving.
Thanks so much for reading
And as always feel free to request whatever you’d like to see in future parts.
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