Jacob Seed x Reader

Nineteen

With a mighty kick, Jacob forced the door to his office open. The metal swung open in a wide motion, hitting the plain concrete wall with a loud bang and almost causing it to crack.

It stopped abruptly, only to let out a strange noise that sounded like a giggle.

You flinched in his arms, moved a bit as if the sounds had reached your brain and made it tingle. But your eyes remained tightly shut.

"Fucking hell.", he mumbled and dropped you onto his bed in the corner of the room. "You're such a stubborn thing. So fucking annoying..."

A bit of blood dripped out of your nose, directly onto his hand, as he stroked the wet strands of (H/C) hair from your sweaty forehead.

He growled, rubbing the blood away on his jeans. It had not been his intention to hurt you this badly. Originally, he had just wanted to knock you out, but his emotions had gotten the worse of him.

For a moment, he let his eyes wander over your face. The nose was bleeding heavily, he noticed, but it wasn't broken. His hits had left a few dark marks on your skin, it was already turning black and blue.

Below your right eye, he had got so hard that a bit of the (S/C) skin had cracked. The eye would turn into a black eye as well, he could tell by just looking at it.

"Fucking hell...", Jacob mumbled and let his hand run over your face. "I guess that was a bit too much."

Your skin felt soft underneath his fingers. So pure and untouched. There were no scars, no bumps or anything. It was just pure, smooth skin.

At that moment Jacob realised that the sight of this face put him at ease. He liked the view. It was pretty.

And he had ruined it.

A soft huff escaped him and he had to lower his gaze to not get angry at himself. But there was something else.

Mockery.

He could feel the urge to laugh at himself creeping into his throat.

A sigh left his lips, deep and long. But as he got back on his feet, he couldn't help it and had to grab one of your fingers for a brief moment. The warmth of your skin felt nice. He had not felt such warmth nor tenderness in a long time.

After the war, the burns on his skin had healed very slowly. In that time, he had expected to loose all feelings in his arms. But luckily they had turned out fine.

The only downside was that he had some troubles feeling skin to skin contact. Most of the time he felt a hands touch only as pressure on his flesh, very rarely a bit of warmth. Pain, on the other had, felt as clear as dawn.

Sometimes even worse than it actually was. For years, he had blamed it on the scared and rough skin until he had stopped giving a shit.

But whenever he touched you, it was different. Not only was he able to feel the texture of your skin clearly, but also the warmth, the wetness of sweat and the sensation of being tickled whenever those tiny hairs on your face brushed over his fingertips.

He was able to feel your breath dance over his face when you were close enough.

Closing his eyes, he let out a deep sigh again. With both hands he brushed over his face, trying to rub the feeling of being sentimental away, before he turned his back to you and grabbed a few things off his table.

Bandages, a knife and some medicine to prevent infections and support the wounds to heal quicker.

Behind him, he could hear something moving. He threw a quick glance over his shoulder, from the corner of his eyes he could spot you moving.

With a soft yet exhausted sigh, you rolled and turned in his sheets, inhaling the soft scent of rain and foggy forests.

"Jacob.", you mumbled as the pain began to bite into your face and throat.

It felt like a truck had run you over. As you raised your hand to touch over your nose, you noticed blood. It had already dried a little, but it was there. The taste of iron covered your lips.

But before you could ruin the sheets and your clothes with your blood covered fingers, Jacob grabbed your hand.

"Pup.", he sat down on the edge of the bed. "Lay down and let me do the bandaging."

You frowned, but the movement hurt. Dryness was stuck in your throat, the wish to empty an entire bathtub of water rose inside.

"I'm thirsty.", you mumbled and let yourself sink into the pillows.

"I know. You're lips are as dry as a desert. They're almost white."

"Get me some water then."

"No."

You looked at him form half closed eyes.

"Why not?", your voice sounded scratchy and dry.

"Because you disobeyed me.", he looked you dead in the eyes. "You did not earn your right to drink."

Your lips parted for a moment, you wanted to say something. But then you shut them again quickly, not wanting to anger him. Any word against him could have caused unimaginable consequences.

Jacob noticed your change in behaviour. Pleased, he smiled and wiped the strands of (H/C) hair out of your face that were stuck on your forehead.

Sweat wetted his hand. He wiped the feeling away by rubbing his hand onto the leg of his pants. Bit somehow, the feeling of your warm skin kept sticking to it.

With his usual roughness, he began to wipe the blood of off your face.

Sometimes, he hurt you a bit, causing pinches and pain inside your nose. It felt a bit like needles inside, trying to break the skin.

"Jacob.", you grabbed his hand. "You're hurting me."

His heart jumped for a quick moment. His eyebrows rose. Then, he put on his neutral face again.

"The pain is your own fault.", he said. "You asked me to knock you out and I did. Chose your words more carefully next time."