Fanfic: Stories

Title: Stories
Author: Lilabut
Pairing: Jacob/Bella
Genre: Sweet/Fluff
Summary: Bella and Jacob trying to figure out what to tell people about how they fell in love.
Prompt: "I put my hand on you. Touching you was always so important to me. It was something I lived for. I never could explain why. Little, nothing touches. My fingers against your shoulder. The outsides of our thighs touching as we squeezed together on the bus. I couldn’t explain it, but I needed it. Sometimes I imagined stitching all of our touches together. How many hundreds of thousands of fingers brushing against each other does it take to make love?"
Prompt taken from kimokun's blog.

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People just like listening to stories. As innocent children, as curious teenagers, as indifferent adult and at an old age when one might think you have heard all stories worth telling.


Sometimes people would ask them – just because it was such a common question, so simple and yet it offered the most amazing stories from time to time.


How did you meet? How did you get together?


Bella and Jacob never quite knew how to answer those questions. Not because they did not want to share their story but because there was no real story to tell, no real plot. No excitement or drama. And so they always decided on the short version: childhood friends, eventually falling in love.


They both knew so well that it had never been that simple. There had never been a certain point in their relationship when either of them had felt a progress or a development in their feelings for each other. For Jacob, Bella had always been the one. And for Bella, Jacob had always been a part of her.


There had been no declaration, no dates, no introductions to the parents.


No real changes.


Holding her hand. Holding on to his arm. Hugging her hello and goodbye. Touching his knee. Bumping their thighs into each other. Giving him a massage. Brushing a strand of hair out of her face. Rubbing sun lotion on her back.


Kissing him on the cheek. Brushing the tiny piece of skin between her jeans and shirt while hugging her. Putting a hand on his thigh. Running his hands through her hair. Kissing her earlobe when whispering something unnecessary into her ear. Crawling underneath the Rabbit next to him.


Sitting on his lap at a bonfire – with their fathers around. Arms touching during dinner – with their fathers around. A kiss on her forehead for goodbye – with his father watching from the porch.


Kissing him on the lips shyly during a boring movie on television. Nuzzling her neck with his nose. Touching his chest for no obvious reason. Slipping his hand beneath her shirt and touching her stomach. Holding her in her sleep. Playing footsie underneath the table.


Unclasping her bra with trembling fingers. Pulling at the waistband of his boxers with a bright red face. Touching her naked back. Feeling his stomach underneath her palms. Wrapping her thighs around him. Pulling him closer.


Kissing each other – in front of her classmates. Holding hands – while talking to her father. Biting her neck – during a bonfire.


Holding her hand.


Holding on to his arm.


Dropping a ring into her palm.


Touching his knee.


Giving him a massage.


Kissing her swollen stomach.


Sitting on his lap at the beach.


Fingers always trembling.


Face always tinted red.


Bella and Jacob do not know how to tell their story to anyone. It is their story, after all.


How did you meet? How did you get together?


It had just happened. Somehow they had gotten here.

Fanfic : Times are Changing

Title: Times are Changing
Author: Lilabut
Genre: Angst
Timeline: After Eclipse
Summary: Jacob and Bella had lied to each other for far too long.
Prompt by me: "So we pile our lies in to ease the hurt away."

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Jacob watches Bella as she cooks her way through his kitchen, every bowl used, ingredients smeared and scattered everywhere. An enormous pile of pancakes stands next to a bowl of vanilla pudding, a plate with chocolate cookies on top of a box with sandwiches of all kinds, a steaming pot with pasta next to a plate with steaks, a cake with crumbles on the table amongst an overflowing salad bowl, lasagne and mashed potatoes.

He had tried to talk to her for three hours now – obviously without any success. She just glared at him and continued her work, ordering him to get out of her way while she stirred, roasted, flavoured, kneaded and wiped sweat and baking powder from her forehead.

Finally, he has enough. Taking two big steps, he wraps his strong arms around her waist, ignoring her kicks and punches and the chocolate smears on his arms. Lifting her from the ground he carries her into the bathroom, pushes her into the shower with a little brutality and before she can scream in protest the ice-cold water is pouring down on her.

She goes rigid in his arms, the flood of ice soaking her clothes, gluing her hair to her face, eyes closed, limbs shivering.

“Stop lying, Bells. It’s too late and you know that. No matter how many cookies you make it won’t change your choice anymore,” he says as gently as he can, wrapping his arms around her once again and stepping into the tiny shower with her. Their bodies are pressed together tightly, not a single inch left for air and Bella rests her head against his chest in defeat, fisting her hands in his shorts – the only fabric she can use as a hold.

“You’re getting married in two days and then you’ll be gone. I know we’ve been trying to lie that away the last months, but it’s too late for that now. It’s time to let go. We can’t pretend being married and having kids anymore, naming them Jake the Third and bubble gum. And you can’t walk around with the sheet playing my runaway bride. And you can’t stay the night sneaking into my bed just to wake up next to me in the morning as if it was the most normal thing in the world. And you can’t cook like there is a war coming up.”

Bella’s tears mix with the freezing water, her lips turning blue against his russet chest as he keeps her close, whispering into her ear.

“It helped. All those pretends. But not anymore. It only hurts now. You can still make it all happen. But you and I both know it won’t happen,” he sighs, holding back the tears and buries his head In her hair. Imagining – pretending – for the last time that they were just two teenagers in a downpour. Not a lonely boy and a girl who would leave him for someone as cold as the icy water soon. Very soon.The lies had been soothing. At the time. But the time was over.