no pun required

I just had a job interview and the guy was looking over my resume and he was like “oh sign language?” and I was like “yeah my dad’s side of the family is deaf so I grew up with it” and he said “oh cool my son is hard of hearing so we are learning sign language” and I was like “yeP ITS PRETTY HANDY” AND I DIDN’T REALIZE THE DAMAGE I HAD DONE UNTIL IT WAS ALREADY TOO LATE NOW I’LL NEVER HAVE A JOB

With Him

Jacob Frye x Reader

Words: 1163


1) New to your blog and I was wondering if you could possibly write something about Jacob Frye. If that’s okay with you. Thank you!

2) Can you write some Jacob fluff?

A/N: I’m not entirely happy with this, for which I owe an apology to the requesters. I’m sorry!

The steady thrum of water splashing to the ground was your only comfort, darkness wrapping around your form like a blanket. It had been months and yet, you still found that it haunted every thought, lurked around every corner of your mind to the point of insanity. You shivered, not necessarily from the freezing drops stabbing into the black cloth of your suit, but because of the truth. You had been so sure of who you were, so positive that your path had been the right one, until they had to shatter your heart, unravel the very fabrics of your reality. 

Since then you’d had only three constants; your Creed, the twins, and the evil encompassing this city like a plague. Two of which you had entirely worked out, the last one, well… Evie and Jacob were complicated. You’d much rather focus on the more gruesome side of things than think about your relationship with the twins. Evie had been your friend through much of your childhood, always being there whenever you needed her. It wasn’t so much her relationship as it was that of the other Frye’s. 

You and Jacob were… difficult to explain. You very much did get along with the man it’s just sometimes you got along too well. He would give you that look, mischief mixed with something more, and it would make your heart race in anticipation, your skin ache for his touch, and your mind freeze. To simply put it, Jacob Frye was going to be the death of you.

“A little late for an afternoon stroll, don’t you think?” His voice rang out, the defined accent echoing through the night. Speak of the devil.

“It’s never too late.” You shrugged, keeping your eyes on the lights scattered throughout the city. To most, it would be a beautiful sight, to you however, you only saw the corrupt, the broken, and the bloodied streets. You only saw the cold, hard truth underneath the pretty lies they tell themselves. 

Heat was radiating from Jacob’s body as he stood just a fraction too close, your senses honing in on him entirely. You didn’t have to turn your head to know his eyes would be shining brilliantly, didn’t have to observe him to notice the darkness and danger that lingers just underneath his features.

“Why are you really up here, love?” He sounded oddly serious, your eyes not daring to meet his gaze.

“Do you think I’m like them?” You asked lowly, staring at Jacob’s boots. His feet moved to face you, the dirt crunching beneath the leather.

“No,” he stated simply, two warm fingers lifting your chin up. His look was serious, the adamance in his tone making you fall just a little bit more. You never wanted him to look at you any other way, his eyes practically placing a crown upon your head and proclaiming you a queen.

“Thank you,” you whispered. The corner of his mouth quirked up in a little smirk, his fingers pulling you closer to his body.

“It’s only the truth,” his breath was ghosting your lips, prompting a shiver. It felt sinful, moving inch by agonizing inch closer to his lips, your body practically screaming his name. Your eyelids fluttered closed, your mouth tantalizingly close to his. Just a few more seconds and… a throat cleared, causing you to jump away from Jacob like he burned you.

“Am I interrupting?” Evie asked, a brow arched high upon her face.

“Not at all,” you stuttered at the same time Jacob bit out, “Yes.” Heat creeped up your neck, covering your face in a red stain as you looked to Jacob.

“Well, whatever I may or may not have been interrupting,” you could’ve sworn Evie sent you a sly look, “We’ve got a little… situation.” Jacob sighed heavily, nodding.

“The fun just never stops, does it?”

You and Jacob had two very different definitions of fun, you mused, wind whipping through your hair, rain slapping against your face, and mud splattering against your boots. Your muscles were screaming at you in protest as you dragged them further, pushing yourself to the absolute max. You could see the red flash of a cloak below, hear the loud footsteps as the Templar barreled through the streets. A smile bloomed on your face, the Templar only seeming to make your job easier. 

You kept through the air, enjoying the rush of adrenaline and the fluttering feeling in your stomach at the flight as you landed roughly on your target, hidden blade sliding smoothly into his throat. Your breathing was labored as you pulled the blade from his flesh, his warm blood spreading on your hands as you brought his face to the light. 

For one terrifying second, it was his face. His dark, lifeless eyes were staring blankly up at you, his lips parted as he breathed your name one last time, the wretched stench of regret on his last dying breath. You stumbled back, the memories cutting deep into you like a fresh wound. You were shoved back into reality as your back connected to a hard chest, two strong arms wrapping around you. For a panicked moment, you struggled, just waiting for the pain of death. Instead, a soft whisper hushed you, two hands needing at the flesh on your hips.

“Jacob,” you whimpered, turning and burying your head into his chest. He pulled you tight against him, his words like a rope pulling you out of the darkness of your own mind. Your senses flooded with Jacob, all remnants of death and regret blowing away in the breeze. With each waft of his leathery and sugary scent, you were slowly calming down. His gentle touch coaxing you back into stability. “I’m sorry.” You whispered finally, staying in his warm embrace.

“It’s not your fault, sweetheart.” He hushed, running a hand through your soft locks.

“It is,” you cried. “It’s my fault he’s dead.” His hand faltered for a moment, his body pulling back so he could look into your eyes.

“Your father was a Templar, both of your parents were. They chose their fate when they attacked us.” You needed to believe it, needed to listen, but you just couldn’t. You knew that some part of you would always blame yourself, but for right now, you reveled in the feel of Jacob. With him, you felt just a little more whole. With him, the world didn’t hurt as much. With him, you felt love. And the look in his eyes told you one thing; he felt the same way. 

He smiled softly, pressing his forehead against your own in the sweetest of touches. “You’ll always have me.” As illogical as it was, you believed him. You both lived dangerous lives, death at every corner just waiting for a single slipup. But in that moment, you couldn’t care less because you had Jacob, and a second with him was worth more than a lifetime without him.

Bruce Sprint-steen, the dog behind the hit songs:

Bred to Run
Born in the USA (but retired in Canada)
and Glory Race


there are a few instances of pre-recorded vocals used in the show (the pre-show announcement, the “Satisfied” rewind, etc.)… & at each performance, it has to reflect who is actually playing the role onstage. so they have to be ready to go with the alternates & understudies!