synopsis ; jake lockley wasn't your husband. steven and marc were. jake was just... he was just there. a ghost living in your house.
themes ; angst, mild fluff, married au
warnings / includes ; suggestive, implications of sex, jake is a rough kisser e_e, mentions of injury/blood, mild cursing, marc and steven both have appearances, jake is emotionally constipated, jake calls reader peach !! reader is a sweetheart <3
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Jake Lockley didn't like your perfume-it was almost nauseatingly fresh and its smell permeated through his own clothes so that he'd often walk out smelling like he had doused himself in Febreze.
He didn't like the way you'd hum to his favorite songs while doing the dishes. Nirvana, Mother Mother, Nothing But Thieves-were you singing them on purpose just to annoy him? Nearly every night, he could hear your faint voice drift into the living room, where he was reading the same three sentences of the daily paper over and over and over again because he couldn't concentrate on anything but your endearingly inconsistent mutters to the music.
He especially hated when you'd walk out of the bedroom in nothing but Steven's shirt loosely draped over your form, rubbing the last remnants of sleep from your heavy-lidded eyes. There was just something about seeing you at your most vulnerable. You were comfortable around him, and that made Jake uneasy.
When Jake fronted, he slept in the guest room. Marc had convinced him not to blow more money staying at a hotel-and Steven was trying to persuade him to at least sleep in the same bed as you. After all, they were married to you.
But Jake wasn't your husband. Steven and Marc were. Jake was just... he was just there. A ghost living in your house.
The very thought of sharing a bed with you made a chill dance down Jake's spine. He could never. As appealing as the thought of having you slotted between his arms, sleepily recounting how your day went to him, sounded, he couldn't ever have that. Jake Lockley wasn't a domestic man.
