#twilight insert

[dreadheadmadi]

“Reader has black hair and blue eyes-“

THEN ITS NOT AN X READER!!???

Edit below cut

Hey guys, so when I made this post, I was extremely frustrated and annoyed. Now that I’m way more mellowed out and had the chance to read a lot of reactions and responses, let me act my age and actually clarify some things.

First, I want to apologize to those who were deeply upset by my post. My post overall was towards those who claim they don’t write for a specific audience, and yet put specific descriptions in their work. There is absolutely NOTHING wrong with adding certain details to your reader, such as gender or body type. The issue comes in when you don’t properly title and tag it as so, or completely ignore it altogether.

If you see my post as an eye opener and want to change up your work, then you have every right to do so, but please do not think that this is an attack or jive directed at you. It’s just that some of us readers want exactly as promised. That’s like blindfolding someone, telling them that you’re gonna feed them an apple, and then making them bite into a banana - peel and all.

I know some writers have said that they want to be more inclusive in response to my criticism. If that is what you truly want, then by all means, but I cannot stress enough: write what YOU want to write. Do not feel as though you’re being pressured to change what you put out; it’s just a means of how you categorize it.

Thank you to everyone who took the time to read, respond, and engage with my original post. I truly appreciate the perspectives shared, they’ve helped me see things more clearly and refine my thoughts.

[cowboybeepboop]

Patience 

"Ah-ah," he chides. "Use your words, like I said. Tell me exactly where you want my hands."

Pairing: Carlisle Cullen x fem! Reader 

Genre: Smut

Word count: 6.4k

Summary: You’re a newish member to the town of Forks, with an extreme obsession with Doctor Cullen. One day he finally gives in after you’ve visited the clinic for the 5th time that month. 

Warnings: light choking, semi public sex, fingering, oral (male receiving), unprotected sex, p in v, teasing, praising, orgasm denial. 

a/n: I know this is a shift from my usual posts but I've been desperate for some more Carlisle content. As always, I hope you enjoy <3 and send any requests my way!

As you stepped into the small, dimly lit clinic, the antiseptic smell filled your nostrils, mingling with the faint scent of pine from the freshly wiped floor. The receptionist looked up from her computer, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "Hello again," she said, her voice dripping with a hint of amusement. 

You returned the smile, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible, and proceeded to the triage desk. Gripping my chest dramatically, you winced. "I've got these terrible chest pains," you gasp, hoping she wouldn't recognize your voice from the numerous calls I'd made over the past few weeks. "I think it's happening again." 

She nodded sympathetically, though her eyes betrayed a spark of curiosity. "I'll let Dr. Cullen know right away," she assures you, before disappearing into the back rooms of the clinic. Your heart raced with anticipation as you take a seat, glancing around the empty waiting area.

Little did they know that your only ailment was an extreme obsession with the enigmatic doctor who had recently become the talk of the town.

The receptionist emerged from the back, her smile widening as she beckoned you to follow her. She led you down the hallway to a small, cozy examination room, the walls adorned with diplomas and medical charts. "Dr. Cullen will be with you in just a moment," she said, the amusement in her voice now unmistakable. 

You nodded, trying to compose yourself as she closed the door behind you. The room was warm, and the gentle hum of the heater filled the space. You sat on the crinkling paper of the examination table, heart pounding in your chest. 

Would he finally see through your facade of feigned illnesses? Or would he offer the attention and concern that you so desperately sought? The anticipation was almost too much to bear as you heard the soft footsteps approaching, and the door handle turned with a quiet click.

He stepped into the exam room with his usual grace and composure, a hint of surprise flickering across his features as his gaze fell on you. His cool, pale fingers clutched a patient chart, which he quickly placed on the counter. His voice, as smooth and soothing as ever, broke the silence.

Cullen leaned against the counter, folding his arms across his chest and studying you with a mix of curiosity and veiled amusement. "Back again," he commented, his voice betraying a hint of recognition. "Chest pains, you say?"

“Mhm,” you bite your lip as you gaze up at him, “It comes and goes..” 

Carlisle hummed softly, tilting his head to one side as he observed you. The flicker of recognition in his eyes now more pronounced. He grabbed the stethoscope that hung around his neck, looping it over his ears.

He closed the small distance between you, his presence seeming to fill the room. He placed the cold metal end of the stethoscope against your chest, his touch as gentle as a butterfly's wings. "Take a deep breath for me," he requested, his voice velvety and commanding.

 You gasp at the chill of the metal, a soft surprised sound escaping your lips as you try to steady your heart rate. You follow his instructions, taking in a deep breath. 

Dr. Cullen listens intently as the sound of your heartbeat fills his ears through the stethoscope. His brows furrowed slightly, a look of concentration on his face. The cool and professional demeanor remains, his focus on your heart.

"Again," he instructs, moving the stethoscope slightly to a different spot on your chest. His gaze never wavers from yours, his eyes betraying a hint of suspicion laced with a touch of curiosity.

You nod, taking in a deep breath, your hands resting on your knees as you gaze up at his strong jaw. Your heart rate picks up as you admire his face from where you're sitting. 

Carlisle can't help but notice the hitch in your heartbeat, his sharp hearing catching the slight acceleration. A small flicker of a smirk plays on the corner of his lips, as he continues to listen intently.

He lifts the stethoscope from your chest, his eyes locking with yours once more. "Your heart rate is elevated," he comments, his voice a low hum. "Any idea why that might be?" The hint of a knowing smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Uh,” you gulp, looking off to the side of the room. “No, I’m not quite sure..” your fingers fumble with the hem of your short skirt as you suck your bottom lip between your teeth. 

Cullen's eyes flickered down to your fingers fidgeting with the hemline of your skirt before meeting your gaze once more. He raised an eyebrow, a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

He took a step back, returning the stethoscope to his desk and perching himself on the edge of it, folding his arms across his broad chest. "You know," he began, his voice a low growl, "I've noticed a pattern. Every time you come to visit, you seem to have a different ailment."

“I guess I’m just,” you try to come up with an excuse. “I just have a lot of things going on, huh?” you grin up at him stiffly. 

The doctor tilts his head to one side, a smirk playing on his lips as he studies you intently. He pushes himself off the desk and begins pacing slowly in front of you.

"That's the thing," he says, his voice quiet and measured. "I've been a doctor for a very long time, and I've seen many patients through the years."

He stops in front of you, his gaze locking with yours. "And yet, I've never seen someone quite so...frequent as you."

“Oh..” you lick your lip, “I guess I’m just a bit worried, you know.. Chest pains aren’t a good sign..” your gaze falls to the tiled floor. 

Dr. Cullen hums softly, a hint of amused skepticism in his voice. "That's true.. Chest pains aren't something to be taken lightly," he agrees, his gaze locked on your face. "But I have a feeling there's more than just chest pains that are troubling you."

“What.. what do you mean?” your eyes widen as you look up at him, body straightening under his intense stare. 

Cullen cocks his head to the side, his eyes never leaving yours. He takes a step closer, his presence becoming more commanding.

"I mean," he began, his voice dropping to a near whisper, "that I suspect there's something more going on here. Something that has little to do with your physical ailments and more to do with..." he pauses, his eyes sweeping over your body briefly, "...something else entirely."

You take a deep breath, gulping as he moves closer. “Oh?” 

Carlisle’s gaze hardens as he moves even closer, nearly towering over you now. "What if I were to suggest that your frequent visits here have less to do with medical concerns and more to do with something else, something more intimate?" he asks, his voice soft but commanding.

He leans closer still, his cool breath ghosting across your skin. "What if I were to suggest that there's a deeper, underlying reason for your...obsession with this clinic?"

You lean back, legs squeezing together as warmth fills your stomach. “Like what? Doctor Cullen?” you furrow your eyebrows, feigning innocence. 

Dr. Cullen's eyes narrow ever so slightly at your feigned innocence. He can sense the heat coursing through your body and the way your legs press together. A smile tugs at the corner of his lip.

He leans in, his voice lowering to a near growl. "Don't play coy with me," he murmurs, closing what little distance remains between you. "You know exactly what I'm referring to." 

“I don't-” you shake your head in response, eyes wide as you scoot further back on the table. “I don't think I know what you mean…” your body tenses with desire as he looks down at you. 

Cullen's eyes darken at the way you scoot back further on the table, the subtle signs of your tension not escaping his sharp senses. He rests his hands on the edge of the table, effectively caging you in.

"Oh? You don't?" he asks, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Then tell me why you've been coming here every week for months. And don't give me that 'I'm just clumsy' or 'I have bad headaches' act again."

You open your mouth to give another excuse but nothing comes out, words seemingly caught in your throat. Eyes falling to his lips as your heart hammers against your chest erratically. 

His lips curved into a knowing smirk as he noticed the way your gaze fixed on them. It was all the confirmation he needed.

He leaned in even closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "Why don't you just admit it?" he asked, his breath fanning against your skin. "Admit why you keep coming back here. To see me. To see what it's like to have my hands on you."

“Doctor..” you start, voice soft and full of desperation. 

Cullen's eyes flicker with a hint of satisfaction as he hears the desperation in your voice. He raises a hand, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his touch feather-light yet full of possession.

"Say it," he commands, his voice low and authoritative. "Say it, and then you can get exactly what you've been coming here for all these weeks."

“I..” your eyes flutter shut as you take a deep breath. “I’ve been coming here because I want to feel your hands on me.” you gasp out, cheeks flushing with your whispered confession. 

Carlisle’s eyes gleam with satisfaction as he hears the confession tumble from your lips. He leans in closer, his hand moving from your cheek to your chin, tilting it upwards so your gaze meets his.

"Good girl," he purrs, the words making heat flare in your stomach. "It wasn't so hard, was it? Admitting what you really want."

He leans even closer, his body pressed against the table, "And what do you want me to do with those hands, princess?"

“I want you to touch me..” you bite down on your lip, legs parting as he slips between them. He lets out a low growl, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. He presses even closer, his hips now pinning you against the table.

"Touch you where?" he whispers, his free hand moving to rest on your thigh, just beneath the hem of your skirt. He toys with the fabric, his fingers tracing small patterns on your bare skin. "You'll need to be more specific, princess."

You move your hand to his, guiding him to where you want him. Carlisle’s hand stops you, a smirk playing on his lips as he sees the slight frown on your face.

"Ah-ah," he chides. "Use your words, like I said. Tell me exactly where you want my hands." He runs his thumb across your lip, watching you expectantly, waiting for your response.

You shiver at his cold skin against you, “Doctor,” you whine out. A low chuckle escapes Cullen’s lips as he sees you shiver under his touch. He brushes his thumb across your lip again, the coldness a stark contrast to your own heat.

“Tell me, princess,” he whispers huskily, his voice like silk. “Where do you want my hands? You’ve been fantasizing about them for all these weeks, haven’t you? Now’s your chance to tell me exactly where you want me to touch you. Be specific.”

“I want you to,” you squeeze your eyes shut in embarrassment. “Touch me, here, between my legs..” you murmur, motioning to your spread thighs. Dr. Cullen's eyes gleam with a mixture of satisfaction and arousal as he hears your whispered request. He moves his hand, which had been on your chin, to your hip, his fingers digging into your skin slightly.

“Is that so?” he murmurs, his voice laced with a hint of amusement. “And how long have you been imagining my hands on you there?” he asks, his hand slowly inching up your thigh, the coldness of his touch in stark contrast to the heat radiating from your body.

You gasp, forehead pressing against his shoulder as you shudder. Cullen lets out a low chuckle, enjoying the way you instinctively bury your face into his shoulder. His hand continues to move up your thigh, the coldness of his touch sending another shiver down your spine.

He brings his free hand up to run through your hair, his fingers tangling in the locks. "You're so sensitive, princess. Is that because you've been thinking about this for a long time, hmm?" he whispers, his breath hot against your ear.

“Yes..” you choke out, feeling his hands part your legs further. A low growl rumbles through his chest once you confirm that you've been thinking about this for a while. He moves even closer, his hips pressing against yours, pinning you to the table.

"How often do you think about me like this?" he murmurs, his hand finally reaching the bare flesh of your inner thigh. He lets his fingers dance over your skin, the coolness of his touch sending sensations through your body. "Every day? Every night?" you moan softly, pulling his hand to your soaked panties. 

“Please… stop teasing me..” you whine, desperate for his touch. 

Cullen grinned, his teeth flashing white in the dim light as he finally slipped his fingers into your panties. The coldness of his skin sent a jolt of pleasure through you, making your core tighten around his touch. His longer pointer finger found your clit with unerring precision, teasing it in a slow, maddening circle. 

"You're so desperate for me," he whispered, his breath hot against your neck, sending shivers down your spine. His voice was a seductive purr that seemed to echo through your very soul. 

"Do you dream about this, my little patient?" he murmured, pressing down slightly, making you gasp. "Do you lie in bed at night, touching yourself and imagining it's me bringing you pleasure?" His touch grew more insistent, his voice a dark caress that only served to fuel your desire.

You whine, the embarrassment and arousal mixing in a potent cocktail that makes your voice tremble. Cullen's smirk widens, the sound of your need making his own desire spike. "There's no need to be shy now," he whispers, his voice a dark promise. "You've been so eager for this, haven't you?"

With a sudden, firm movement, he slides a finger into you, the coldness of his digit making you gasp. He moves it in and out with deliberate slowness, watching the way your body reacts to his touch. 

His thumb remains on your clit, swirling in a relentless pattern that sends waves of pleasure crashing through you. You can feel yourself growing wetter with each stroke, your body betraying just how much you crave his attention.

"Tell me," he murmurs, his voice a dark rumble that sends vibrations through your core. "How long have you dreamed of this moment?" His finger moves deeper, stretching you slightly, his eyes locked on yours, watching every flicker of emotion cross your face. "How long have you wanted me to do this to you?"

Your breath hitches as you struggle to answer, the sensation of his finger inside you making it difficult to form coherent thoughts. "Ever since my first visit," you stutter, your cheeks burning.

Cullen's smile turns predatory as he feels you clench around his finger. "Well," he says, his voice low and seductive, "today, all your dreams come true." 

He adds a second finger, the coldness now a familiar and welcome sensation. He starts to pump them in and out of you, his thumb never leaving your clit, keeping the pressure constant.

You moan, unable to stop yourself from arching into his touch, your body begging for more. "More," you murmur, the word barely audible. "Please."

Dr. Cullen chuckles, the sound dark and triumphant. "As you wish, my eager patient," he says, his eyes dark with lust. He quickens the pace, the coldness of his touch making you shiver with pleasure. His thumb presses harder on your clit, and you can feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.

As your need grew more urgent, Cullen added another finger, stretching you further as you clenched around him. The sudden fullness made you gasp, and you bit down hard on the fabric of his white coat to muffle the moan that threatened to escape your lips. The material was stiff and cold, but it only served to heighten the warmth and pressure building within you. 

Each stroke of his fingers sent a new wave of pleasure crashing over you, the chilly touch of his skin against your heated flesh making you tremble with anticipation. Your eyes squeezed shut, and your nails dug into the material of his coat, leaving tiny marks of desperation as your orgasm began to coil tightly in your core. 

The sound of his fingers moving within you filled the room, a slick, intimate symphony that seemed to resonate with the thud of your racing heart. The tension grew, your breaths coming in short, ragged gasps as you approached the precipice. 

The coldness of his touch was a stark contrast to the burning heat of your arousal, and you found yourself craving more of him, his mouth, his teeth, his tongue. 

You could feel yourself getting closer, your body tightening like a bowstring drawn taut, ready to snap at any moment. Carlisle watched you, his eyes dark with lust, his own breathing growing heavier as he pushed you further and further towards the edge.

Your body shudders as the orgasm crashes over you, a keening cry escaping your throat despite your efforts to muffle it. Cullen's eyes bore into yours, his own desire clear as he watches you fall apart under his skilled touch. 

His fingers continue to pump into you, drawing out every last tremor of pleasure until you're left panting and boneless against the exam table. He withdraws his hand, the loss of his cold digits making you whimper. 

He smirks, bringing his hand to his mouth and sucking on his fingers, tasting you, his eyes never leaving yours. The sound of his satisfaction echoes in the room, making your cheeks burn even hotter. 

The smugness in his gaze tells you that he's fully aware of the effect he's had, and the thrill of being so thoroughly exposed and dominated by him sends another shiver down your spine. You bite your lip, your eyes never leaving his, as you silently beg for more.

Dr. Cullen chuckles again at the sight of you, completely spent and utterly under his control. He takes a step back, admiring your flushed, disheveled appearance. “You're quite the picture, princess,” he murmurs, his voice low and sultry.

He moves to the sink and washes his hands, his eyes never leaving yours. Once finished, he turns back to you, his gaze dark with unfulfilled desire. “You know, I should reprimand you for all those fake ailments you've been coming in for,” he says, his voice deceptively casual

You cover your flushed cheeks with your hands, breathing heavy as you try to collect yourself. Cullen smirks as he watches you struggle to compose yourself. He moves back towards you, his footsteps slow and measured. He stops right in front of you, his broad frame towering over your seated figure.

"Embarrassed, are you?" he asks, his voice a low, amused purr. He reaches out, taking one of your wrists in his hand, slowly dragging it away from your face.

“You’re such a tease,” you whine, looking up at him, eyes still full of desire for him. Carlisle’s smirk widens as he hears the complaint in your voice. He releases your wrist, bringing his hand up to cup your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze.

"Who, me? A tease?" he asks, his voice dripping with a mix of feigned innocence and mockery. "I'm just doing my job as a doctor, princess. It's my duty to care for my patients," he says, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip.

You push your tongue out, licking the tip of his thumb with newfound confidence. “But what about you Doctor?” your hands go to his belt buckle, fingers brushing over his concealed erection. 

Cullen's eyes darken as he feels your tongue against his thumb. A sharp intake of breath escapes him as your fingers brush against his erection, the feeling stirring an immediate response.

"What about me, princess?" he asks, his voice gruff and huskier than before. He watches you closely, his eyes locked on your face as you toy with his buckle.

“Who will take care of you?” you unbuckle his belt, gazing up at him through half-lidded eyes, full of lust. Carlisle’s hands clench into fists as you unbuckle his belt, his restraint faltering slightly as you gaze up at him with that look in your eyes. 

He lets out a low, possessive growl, his body tensing as he struggles to maintain a semblance of composure. "You want to take care of me, princess?" he asks, his voice lower and more gravelly now. "Is that what you're offering?"

You nod eagerly, fingers fumbling with the zipper and button of his slacks. Slipping the pants away, you press your hand against his length through his boxers. Doctor Cullen’s eyes flash with desire as your hand presses against his length through the thin fabric of his boxers. He lets out a stifled groan, his hips involuntarily bucking against your touch.

"Eager, aren't you?" he mutters, his voice a deep rumble. He places a hand on your shoulder, half to steady himself, half to push you away. "You're playing a dangerous game, princess." 

You free his erection from his boxers, your hand wrapping around his length. You lean in, pressing a soft, tentative kiss to the tip of his erection, feeling it twitch against your lips. Carlisle's grip on your shoulder tightens as you begin to suck, his hips jerking slightly as you take him into your warm, eager mouth. 

His cock is hard and pulsing, the head slick with pre-cum that you greedily lick away. His hand slides into your hair, guiding you as you bob your head up and down his shaft, your cheeks hollowing with each suck. The room is filled with the sounds of your muffled moans and his stifled groans as you work to satisfy his desire. 

The taste of him is intoxicating, making you want more. You let your tongue dance around the sensitive ridge, feeling him throb against your tongue. His other hand comes up to the back of your head, his grip growing firmer, his hips beginning to thrust in time with your movements. You moan around his length, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through him. 

His eyes are closed, his head thrown back, and his chest heaves with each ragged breath. You can feel his need for release growing, his body tightening with every stroke of your tongue. You suck harder, taking him deeper, eager to bring him to climax. 

The power you have over him is exhilarating, and you revel in it, pushing him closer and closer to the edge. His hand in your hair tightens, his grip almost painful, but you don't care. All you want is to feel him come apart under your ministrations, to hear him cry out in pleasure. 

Cullen groans, his body shuddering as your eager mouth works on him, his hand finding its way to the strands of your hair. He takes a fistful, bringing it to his nose and inhaling deeply, your scent mingling with the musk of arousal filling the room. He savors the feeling of your warm, wet mouth wrapped around his cock. 

His grip on your hair tightens, guiding you with a gentle but firm rhythm that matches the pulse of your own desire. Each time you take him deep, he lets out a soft hiss, his hips rocking slightly to meet your movements. His other hand rests on the counter, knuckles white with restrained need. 

The sound of your moans, muffled by his length, echoes in the room, a symphony of pleasure that drives him wild. His control is slipping, his breathing becoming ragged as you work your magic, your tongue swirling around the tip before taking him back in, deeper and deeper with every stroke. 

The anticipation of his release builds, his entire body coiled like a spring ready to snap. The coldness of his touch has given way to the heat of passion, his restrained demeanor now a distant memory. The clinical setting is forgotten, replaced by the primal dance of desire that plays out between you.

 You can feel him growing closer, his thighs tense and his breathing erratic. You know what he needs, what you've been longing to give him, and you push harder, faster, determined to bring him to the brink and watch him fall.

Cullen's eyes fly open, his gaze piercing yours as he feels the first pulse of his climax. He lets out a low, guttural moan, his hips bucking into your mouth as he releases. You swallow eagerly, your eyes never leaving his as he cums, the salty tang of his release coating your tongue. 

His hand in your hair tightens, almost painfully, as he holds you in place, his entire body trembling with the force of his orgasm. You watch, mesmerized, as his features contort with pleasure, his jaw clenched and eyes squeezed shut. He lets out a series of deep, shuddering breaths, his chest heaving as he slowly regains his composure. 

His hand releases your hair, moving to cradle the back of your head, his touch now gentle as the aftershocks of pleasure ripple through him. He opens his eyes, the intensity in them not diminished, and looks down at you with a mix of satisfaction and hunger. 

"Good girl," he whispers, his voice hoarse. You sit back, licking your lips clean, feeling a sense of pride at having brought him to this point. 

He leans down, cupping your chin and tilting your head up to meet his gaze. A possessive, satisfied smile plays on his lips. “You're quite the naughty little patient, aren't you?” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble. “Taking advantage of my good nature like that.”

He releases your chin, his hand moving to your hair, running his fingers through the strands. He tugs lightly, just hard enough to get your attention. “But I must admit, I rather enjoyed it,” he adds, his gaze dark with restrained desire.

“Then maybe I should keep my habit of coming here so frequently,” you bite your lip, gazing up at him seductively. 

"You do seem to have a habit of finding yourself in my clinic quite often, princess." Cullen’s gaze darkens at your seductive bite of your lip. "And I do have a duty to ensure my patients are well taken care of..." he says, his voice a low, promising rumble.

He steps closer, his body now pressed against yours, his height towering over you. He leans down, his lips near your ear, his breath warm against your skin. "Maybe I should start charging extra for private appointments,” he murmurs.

You shiver at his words, hands reaching out to grasp his sides, your fingers digging into his cold skin. Dr. Cullen lets out a low, amused hum at your shiver, the feel of your fingers digging into his skin sending a jolt through him. "Someone's eager," he mutters, his hand sliding to the small of your back, pulling you even closer against him.

His other hand comes up, his thumb tracing the contour of your chin. He tilts your head up, his gaze a mixture of desire and possessive claiming. "You certainly know how to get my attention, princess," he murmurs, his voice a deep growl.

You slide your hands up his shirt, fingers dancing over his tense muscles. “Doctor..” you murmur. Cullen lets out a low hiss as your hands skim over his bare skin. Your touch seems to electrify him, his body tensing even more beneath your touch.

"Yes, princess?" he responds, his voice rougher than before. He leans down, his lips hovering over your ear. "What is it that you want?" he asks, his warm breath sending another shiver through you.

“I want..” you bury your face into his stomach, breathing in his musk mixed with his cologne. “Your hand wasn't enough… I need more of you..” your voice is needy and desperate as you gaze up at him, chin pressed against his firm abs. 

Carlisle’s breath hitches at your admission, the mix of desperation and need in your voice firing up his own primal instincts. His hand at the small of your back grips tighter, his body tensing as he struggles to keep control.

"You want more, huh?" he mutters, his voice thick with desire. He releases his grip on your chin, his hand moving to the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair. "You're a greedy little thing, aren't you?" he growls.

“Please doctor?” the pads of your fingers dig into his back. Cullen lets out a low, possessive growl as you dig your fingers into his back. The pleading tone of your voice, the desperation in your touch, only serves to fuel his own need.

"You beg so prettily, princess," he mutters, his voice a deep rumble. "How can I resist when you ask so nicely?" He leans down, his lips hovering over yours, his breath warm on your skin. "But you must be specific, sweetheart. You need to tell me exactly what it is you want.“

“I want you to fuck me, please..” you gasp, lips parting for him. Carlisle’s eyes darken at your blunt request, a sharp intake of breath escaping him. He closes the small gap between you, his lips capturing yours in a fierce, possessive kiss. His tongue pushes into your mouth, delving and tasting, his hand at the back of your head holding you in place.

He pulls back from the kiss, his lips hovering millimeters from yours, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "You're insatiable, you know that?" he mutters, his free hand sliding down your body to grasp your hip. "How am I supposed to deny such a pretty request?"

With a low growl of approval, Cullen's hands guide you to the edge of the exam table, your legs shaking with anticipation. He bends you over, the cold steel pressing into your abdomen as he pulls your panties down, exposing your trembling thighs. 

You feel his erection, hot and demanding, as he lines himself up with your slick entrance, the tip of his cock pressing into your wetness. His hand firmly grips your hip, his fingers digging into your skin as he adjusts his position, the sound of his zipper echoing in the small room. 

You gasp as he enters you, inch by inch, filling you completely, the sensation of his cold skin against your heated flesh sending waves of pleasure through your body. His other hand wraps around your throat, not tight enough to cut off your air, but enough to remind you of his dominance, his control over your body and your desires. 

He pulls almost all the way out before slamming back into you, the force making you cry out. His grip tightens, his hips setting a punishing rhythm that has you seeing stars. Each thrust sends a jolt of cold fire through you, the stark contrast of his frigid skin against your burning need only serving to heighten your pleasure. 

The room is filled with the sounds of your muffled whimpers and his deep, satisfied grunts as he claims you, his sharp canines grazing your shoulder as he marks you, his patient.

As your moans grew louder, Cullen's hand left your hip and covered your mouth, his thumb pressing against your lower lip as his other fingers dug into your cheek. He was relentless, his hips moving with a precision that spoke of his experience and his unyielding need to bring you to the brink of ecstasy. 

Each thrust hit the spot deep inside you that sent sparks of pleasure shooting through your body, and you could feel yourself growing wetter, your walls clenching around him with every stroke. The muffled sounds of your cries were only for his ears, a secret symphony of passion that played out in the quiet of the exam room. 

His own breaths grew harsher, his movements more erratic, as he felt your body tense beneath him, his name a silent scream against his palm. The heat of your arousal mixed with the coldness of his hand on your mouth was a delicious torment, your eyes rolling back in your head as he claimed you, his possession complete. 

The world outside the room ceased to exist, and all that remained was the frantic dance of your bodies, the cold steel of his touch, and the warm, velvety embrace of his cock filling you over and over again. You felt your climax building, a crescendo of pleasure that threatened to shatter you, your body begging for release. 

"Not yet, princess," Cullen whispers, his voice hoarse and urgent against your ear, his movements unrelenting. His cold hand slides from your mouth to your neck, his grip firm as he feels your body begin to tighten around him, the warmth of your passion meeting the chill of his touch. 

His strokes become deeper, more deliberate, as he watches your face contort with the beginnings of your climax. You try to hold back, your eyes squeezed shut, your teeth biting down on your bottom lip to muffle your cries. Each thrust sends a fresh wave of cold fire through you, making your toes curl and your nails dig into the edge of the exam table. 

"I’ll let you know when to cum for me," he commands, his voice a low growl that sends a shiver down your spine. His hand on your hip guides your hips back to meet his, his thrusts becoming more powerful, more demanding. You can feel the swell of his cock inside you, the pressure building, the coldness of his skin against your hot, wet flesh.

Your eyes fly open, and you stare at the wall, panting, as he continues to fuck you with a masterful precision that has you teetering on the edge of oblivion. Your body is his to command, your pleasure his to give and withhold. 

And as much as you want to cum, to shatter beneath his touch, you know that you won't until he says so. The anticipation is agonizing, a sweet torture that only makes the eventual release all the more potent. 

You whimper, your body begging for relief, but Cullen's grip tightens, his movements unyielding. "Soon," he murmurs, his breath hot against your neck. "But not yet. I want to feel you clench around me, tight and desperate, begging for it." His voice is a dark promise, a siren's call that you can't resist. 

You push back against him, your body moving in time with his rhythm, the cold steel of his hand on your neck a stark contrast to the warmth building in your core. The tension is unbearable, a coil winding tighter and tighter, threatening to snap at any moment. 

You're so close, so very close, but he won't let you go over the edge. Not yet. Not until he's ready. And in that moment, you realize just how much you crave his control, his dominance over your very being. It's a heady feeling, one that makes you want to both fight against him and surrender completely to his will. 

You gasp out his name, a plea and a curse all rolled into one, your voice echoing in the small, intimate space. His response is a feral growl, his hips slamming into you with renewed vigor, his hand on your neck pressing a little harder, his thumb stroking the pulse point beneath your jaw. 

You're so close, so incredibly close, and you know that when he finally lets you go, when he allows you to come, it's going to be like nothing you've ever felt before. The coldness of his touch, the heat of his desire, the raw power of his control all coalesce into a storm of sensation that threatens to consume you. And you can't wait.

“You can let go now.” he growls into your ear. With a final, powerful thrust, Cullen's hand clamps down hard over your mouth, muffling your scream of pleasure as your body finally gives in to the climax that had been building for what felt like an eternity. 

The pressure of his hand, the coldness of his skin against your flushed cheek, only heightens the sensation, making your orgasm feel like it's shattering you into a million pieces. Your eyes squeeze shut as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you, your legs trembling and your core clenching around him, desperately trying to hold on to the feeling. 

His own release follows swiftly, his hips jerking as he buries himself to the hilt, filling you completely with his seed. His grip on your neck tightens, his breath hot against your ear, as he rides out his climax with a deep, guttural groan. The room seems to spin around you, the only solid point the cold steel of his hand, grounding you in the midst of the tumultuous storm of sensation. 

As your body starts to come down from the high, you feel him pull out slowly, his grip on you loosening, his breathing still ragged. He takes a step back, his eyes never leaving yours, his expression a mix of satisfaction and something else, something primal and possessive. 

You collapse onto the exam table, boneless and spent, the coldness of the room now a stark contrast to the heat that still pulses through your veins. He reaches down to pull your panties back up, his movements surprisingly gentle given the ferocity of his earlier actions. 

The cold fabric against your sensitive skin sends a shiver through you, a final reminder of the intensity of what just transpired. You can't help but feel a thrill of excitement at the thought of when you'll get to feel his cold touch again, eager to play out this twisted game of cat and mouse once more.

[letterstoalonewolf]

Southern Charm

Jasper Hale x Reader

Summary: There’s something dangerous about Jasper Hale—something that should make you run the other way. But then he smirks, tilts his head just so, and says, “Looking good today, ma’am,” in that slow Southern drawl, and suddenly, you forget why you were supposed to resist him in the first place.

The first time you heard Jasper Hale speak, it was over something as simple as a door.

You had reached for the handle, fingers barely grazing the metal before he was there, faster than humanly possible, pulling it open with an effortless grace. His touch was light, like the ghost of a promise, but the weight of his presence behind you was something you felt in your bones.

“After you, darlin’.”

The drawl was smooth, rich like aged whiskey, laced with something deeper—something that sent an involuntary shiver down your spine. When you turned to meet his gaze, golden eyes locked onto yours, full of quiet amusement and something else you couldn’t quite name.

It wasn’t fair, really.

Jasper Hale was lethal in more ways than one.

It wasn’t just his impossible beauty, all sharp cheekbones and tousled blond waves that made him look like some Southern heartbreak wrapped in temptation. It wasn’t just his voice, either, that sinful, honeyed accent that curled around words like a promise, making even the simplest phrases sound like poetry. No, the real danger was how easily he could make you forget yourself.

And he knew it.

“See somethin’ you like, sugar?” he teased, the corner of his mouth lifting into that barely-there smirk.

Heat bloomed across your cheeks, but you refused to look away. “Just wondering if you always go out of your way to be this much of a gentleman.”

His chuckle was low, a quiet rumble in his chest as he leaned in just slightly, enough to make your breath catch. “Can’t help it, ma’am. Mama raised me right.”

His eyes flickered to your lips, just for a second—quick enough that you might have imagined it, but the way your stomach flipped told you otherwise.

Jasper Whitlock Hale was going to ruin you.

***

It didn’t stop there.

He was relentless in his quiet, effortless charm, making it impossible to ignore the fact that you were utterly, completely drawn to him.

It was in the way he always pulled out your chair before you could sit. The way he made a habit of offering his arm when you walked together, as if it were second nature—like touching you was something he couldn’t help but do.

And, of course, the compliments.

“Looking mighty fine today, sweetheart,” he’d murmur in passing, voice just low enough that only you could hear.

“You do that on purpose,” you accused one afternoon, unable to hide the way your lips twitched at his antics.

Jasper, ever composed, merely raised an eyebrow. “Do what, now?”

“That—” you waved a hand vaguely, flustered, “—the whole Southern gentleman routine. The flirting.”

He didn’t even try to look innocent. If anything, his smirk widened.

“Now, sugar,” he drawled, stepping in closer, “who said I was flirtin’?”

You scoffed, but your pulse betrayed you, fluttering wildly beneath his gaze. “Oh, please. You’re not subtle.”

Jasper hummed, tilting his head as if considering your words. Then, before you could react, he reached out, knuckles brushing against the curve of your jaw, tilting your chin up ever so slightly.

And just like that, all the breath left your lungs.

“Wouldn’t dream of bein’ subtle with you, darlin’,” he murmured, voice dipping into something lower, rougher. “I like makin’ sure you know exactly what’s on my mind.”

His thumb skimmed over your cheekbone, featherlight but searing, and you swore the entire world narrowed to the space between you.

Jasper didn’t just flirt.

He unraveled.

And you? You were already his to begin with.

***

It took you longer than you’d like to admit to realize the truth—why Jasper’s presence made something in your chest tighten, why the thought of him looking at anyone else with that quiet, devastating charm made your stomach twist.

Why being near him felt like gravity had finally stopped fighting you.

You were mates.

The realization hit you like a lightning strike, searing through every nerve, setting your entire world ablaze.

Jasper must have seen it in your face—how the pieces suddenly clicked together—because something flickered in his eyes.

“Ah,” he murmured, voice softer now, edged with something more vulnerable. “So you finally figured it out.”

Your breath hitched. “You knew?”

His lips curved into something painfully fond. “Course I knew, sugar.”

His fingers ghosted along the inside of your wrist, right where your pulse thundered. It was such a simple touch, but it might as well have been an earthquake, shaking everything you thought you knew.

“Jasper,” you whispered, barely able to get the words out.

He smiled, but it wasn’t the teasing, flirtatious smirk he usually wore. It was something else—something deeper, warmer.

“I’ve been waitin��� for you,” he admitted. “Didn’t wanna push you before you were ready to see it. But I’ve known from the second I laid eyes on you.”

Something swelled in your chest, too big, too much.

You swallowed hard. “And now?”

His hand slid up, fingers threading gently through yours, fitting so perfectly it almost hurt.

“Now,” he said, voice dipping into that low, devastating drawl, “I finally get to kiss my girl.”

And then he did.

His lips found yours in a kiss that was slow and deep, stealing the air from your lungs, grounding you and setting you free all at once.

It was the kind of kiss that felt like forever.

Because with Jasper?

Forever had already begun.

[lis-likes-fics]

Strange Obsession

Pairing: Edward Cullen x Reader Word Count: 1.8k words Prompt: Somnophilia Warnings: NSFW, smut, somnophilia (so dub/noncon themes), touching, no penetration, masturbation, panty stealing, Edward's a pervert but we knew that already... A/N: Yeah... Okay.

You look so peaceful.

Moonlight streams in through your curtains as Edward stands in the corner of your room. Your blankets, rustled by your rest, no longer cover your chest and sit, instead, around your waist. Your shirt is so thin, he could see the outline of your nipples through it.

And he can smell your sticky arousal from where he stands.

It's a little unnerving. He’s been coming here for weeks, watching you sleep, listening to your dreams. And when you haven't quite fallen asleep yet, he can still hear your thoughts from the safety of the night outside.

Sometimes he even gets to hear your really intimate ones. He can see through your eyes, clouded in pleasure as you try to stifle your little sounds. He can see the images flashing behind your eyes as you plunge your fingers inside of yourself.

Sometimes even he makes an appearance in these thoughts—a flash of his face or his hands behind your eyes. It's enough to make him keep coming.

He knows he shouldn't be doing this—it's weird and perverted. He should turn around and leave—at least in this new girl's apparent lack of thoughts, he had a valid obsession for coming back. It's a much more potent intrigue.

But there's something about you that draws him, something darker than whatever it is he's found in his heart for Bella Swan.

Your blood is not nearly as maddening. He can hear and see your thoughts clear as day. Your beauty is not so ordinary as Bella’s, and more plainly seen. He's spent time talking to you, and you're not especially remarkable. And yet…

When you begin to stir, he almost runs. But you don't wake.

The slightest sound slips from your lips, a sigh—almost a whimper, even. He watches as you turn onto your belly, your blankets slipping from your body and allowing him to feast on the sight of you.

You're bare beneath the oversized shirt you wear. The shirt has ridden up your back during your adjustment and he can see the bare curve of your ass in the gentle moonlight through the window. One of your legs is bent, meaning his view is only elevated to something even more scandalous.

Images of bare bodies, sweaty skin, grinding and gripping arise within your mind. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, a silent groan in his throat at the sounds of moans and whimpers fill every recess of your thoughts.

Edward doesn't necessarily intend to move forward, but he does. His feet take slow, impossibly silent steps toward you. He reaches out his hand at his side, his fingers flexing and unflexing as he longs to press his fingers to your skin. His fingertips are careful in their venture, brushing delicate flesh and feeling the warmth of your skin radiating off of you.

His eyes catch something peeking out from beneath your blanket and he sees a sliver of pink. Wordlessly, he reaches for it and wraps pale fingers around soft, pink panties. They're damp with what he has come to recognize as your arousal. He smells it in the halls of the school, he smells it when he stands outside of your window at night. It is uniquely you, and it's maddening.

He shuts his eyes and watches the movie in your mind, sensual images of pleasure making it harder for him to resist tangling his fingers in your underwear and bringing them to his nose.

He inhales the scent like honeyed roses, sighing longingly as he presses them closer. It smells sweet, this saccharine scent that fills his mind with nothing but you—makes him grateful for the fact that no one else can hear the thoughts rushing through his head as an arousal he's not used to grows and grows in the pit of his stomach.

When you whimper again, he opens his eyes to see as you grind your hips shallowly into your mattress. Your thoughts are the same, if not more desperate. Your breaths are uneven, interrupted by tiny mewls. He watches as your growing need for pleasure rises within you until he thinks he won't be able to hold himself back any longer.

Edward almost doesn't realize it when his hand drops to his jeans, pulling down the zipper to relieve the hardness of his cock being restricted by the fabric. He stifles a groan when he glances down at himself, too stiff to be ignored as he finally, slowly, shamefully brings his hand to his cock and wraps it tightly around himself.

He's too far gone now. He knows he shouldn't be doing this, knows that it's wrong, that it's perverted. He should never have showed up in the first place.

But you're so peaceful now, even with the way you keen into your mattress and whine at the sinful thoughts in your head. He doesn't know why it's affecting him so deeply, why hearing your thoughts throughout the day, seeing you walk the halls, smelling you in the recesses of his mind makes him so adamant on being here. Even if it were all strictly innocent, he would still be here, watching you sleep watching you dream of pleasure.

He just wants to know what it's like…to be here, with you, in you. His mind is riddled with it, dirtied with it. He wants so badly to have you.

He fists his cock with an unsympathetic hand, stroking and gripping, trying so hard to be done with such a sinful deed. He wishes you didn't exist. He wishes you were never born so that he wasn't standing here, fisting his cock over your half-naked body as he held your panties to his nose.

You continue to grind into your bed to no avail, your whines only deepening when you cannot tame your need.

He's only helping. At least, that's what he'll tell himself when this is all over.

He bends over you, moving closer as his fingertips trail your back again. A tiny hum tickles his ears as they travel farther down, over the dip of your back, over the curve of your bottom. Your hips become a little more eager.

He lets his hand fall between your thighs, and he cups your arousal with a frigid palm. Your hips jerk slightly, but you don't wake.

He pulls his hand away, staring at his palm now slick with your wetness. He brings it close, inhales deeply, lets out a shaky sigh as he lets the scent of you invade his senses.

Edward lays the back of his hand against the bed, securely beneath you as he presses a finger to your clit. He keeps it there, does nothing else. He's steady and still as a statue as he watches you grind against his hand, losing breath in your sleep as a new pressure to your clit adds the pleasure you were needing.

Your tiny sounds grow as you aid yourself in finding a release. He purses his lips to keep quiet as he wraps your panties around his cock and strokes.

Between your breathy whines and his sinful arousal, all thoughts of fleeing have left his mind. He focuses on the thoughts flashing through your head, the way you grind your hips into his hand as you rub your clit over his still finger. Your fingers grip the sheets, your mind reels.

Edward grips himself almost uncomfortably, fucking his fist to your thoughts and your scent and your squirming hips. He can hear the sounds in your head fuzzing, he can see the image becoming brighter as it almost renders itself white noise.

You breathe a moan, a legitimate moan that has him opening his eyes to see your face, half pressed into your pillow. Your eyes flick rapidly behind your eyelids, your brows furrowing in a distant concentration. Sweat is beginning to prick along your spine.

He's not going to be able to hold out much longer—which is good. Being here, doing this, it's a line he knows he should not have crossed. The sooner he can relieve himself of his perverted act, the sooner he can leave you be. Maybe this will be the last time he comes to you. Maybe after this, he will be satisfied enough not to feel the need to come back.

The softness of your panties around his cock is intoxicating. His hips buck into his hand, and he nearly forgets to stay quiet when a sigh falls out of him. He watches your face, enamored by you and your pleasure as you continue to use his hand to find what you so desperately crave.

Your sounds become a little louder, loud enough to mask any puffs of breath he might let escape as the pleasure swells in him.

When he cums, it's a shameful feeling that overcomes him as he continues to fuck his cock into your panties. He stains them with his release, grunting as he loses himself in the pleasure, in your thoughts, in the mewls of your budding ecstasy. It shocks his system and settles once more as a heavy sinking in the pit of his stomach.

He's catching his breath, a deeply subconscious action that he does not realize is taking place until he can hear his breaths in his own ears again. He holds it immediately, steadying his thoughts to try and steer away from the continued filth of yours.

His eyes are glued to you when you find your release. Your jaw drops to let out a surprised moan as you grind harder, slower into his hand. Your arms flex as you grip the sheets, pulling yourself up. The sight is something he will never forget. It will stay with him forever.

And that is how he knows this will not be the last time.

His thoughts are cut short when the white noise of your thoughts are abruptly stolen into something he recognizes as consciousness. In hardly a second, he's tucked back into his jeans and fled from your bedroom window. It's closed so swiftly and so silently that you have no time to even realize it was open to begin with.

You catch your breath, opening your eyes and glancing around you as you try to figure out what this light, airy feeling in your body is coming from. You glance down between your thighs, slick with an arousal you had not fallen asleep with. As you tap your clit experimentally, you're surprised to find its sensitivity.

How did you cum in your sleep?

You glance around once more, as if looking for clues before ultimately coming short. You clammer out of bed to clean yourself up, looking to go back to sleep as quickly as possible.

Edward stands outside of your window, your panties still gripped in his hand, still stained with your arousal and his cum. He shoves them into his pocket and lets out a silent breath.

He will be back.

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[gogogodzilla]

day 23, virginity loss

edward cullen x reader warnings: nsfw 18+, unprotected sex, fingering, maybe ooc!edward, slight dirty talk, human!reader kinktober ☠︎︎ main masterlist ☠︎︎ read on ao3

Edward Cullen was a man who pretended to have a strict moral code when it came to you, but the way he was ravishing you tonight was downright sinful. 

Your wedding was nothing short of extravagant, of course. The Cullens spared no expense for your union. However, all you could think about was Edward ripping your dress off of you and taking you right there and then. By the way he gripped your side tightly the entire night, you could tell your wandering thoughts were getting to him. 

Your lips quickly attached to the side of his neck as he drove to the airport and your fingertips trailed up his thigh. He grabbed your hand and nipped at your inner wrist, a silent warning to behave. 

You were on your best behavior after that, only allowing your thoughts to veer off course once or twice, just to keep Edward on his toes. 

Isle Esme was gorgeous, and you couldn’t wait to see it in the daylight. You were glad to finally be alone with Edward. As you approached the threshold of the front door, he swept you off your feet and a high-pitched squeal left you at his movements. 

“Little warning next time?” you raised a brow as he carried into the main room of the villa. He spun you around, a grin gracing his features. 

“I am nothing if not traditional,” he replied as he set you down. His hands lingered on your waist as you looked up at him. 

You pursed your lips, “That’s for sure.” 

He chuckled, before pressing his lips to yours in a soft kiss. His cool fingers traced a delicate path across your jawline, and you shuddered against his touch. Your heartbeat quickened in your chest, and you wondered if Edward’s thoughts were racing just as fast as yours were. 

Your lips parted and his breath fanned across your cheek. He laced his fingers with yours and led you deeper into the house. It was luxurious and open, and you never wanted to leave. 

Soft lighting bathed the master bedroom, and a sudden wave of nervousness overtook you. You’d been intimate before but never like this. 

He pulled you into the bedroom and wrapped his arms around your waist. “I promised you we’d try,” he murmured, his gaze never leaving yours. 

You forced yourself to focus on his touch lingering on your hips and the ocean breeze drifting through the open double doors to the bedroom. Your tongue darted out to wet your lips as you formulated your plan in your mind. 

“Think you can wait a bit longer while I change into something more comfortable,” you questioned, pulling yourself out of his embrace. 

He grinned, “I’ve waited 104 years, a few more minutes isn’t going to kill me.” 

You grabbed one of your smaller bags and brought it into the bathroom with you. You sifted through the various sets of lingerie Alice had meticulously packed for you, looking for something that wouldn’t be impossible to put on. 

You settled on a lacy dark blue, but not navy, bralette and panties with little to no straps. Easy enough.  

Once you had the lingerie settled onto your features, you took a moment to gaze at yourself in the mirror. You couldn’t deny Alice’s taste when it came to anything you wore. The lingerie fit you like a glove and looked amazing. You looked amazing. You spritzed some perfume on yourself before exiting the bathroom, shutting the door softly behind you. 

Edward turned to face you. He was still wearing the light blue button-up that he donned after the reception. The two buttons at the top were undone, which was definitely not because of you. 

His eyes raked up your body, and you struck a pose, attempting to diffuse the tension in the air. He chuckled and the next thing you knew you were lifted into his arms. His hands cupped your ass and held you steady against him. You wrapped your arms around him and kissed him, deep and slow. 

With every moment, your kisses grew deeper and more desperate. Edward laid you softly onto the plush mattress, his lips still attached to yours.  

“You’re exquisite,” he breathed as he took in your features. He left featherlight kisses along your cheekbones before moving to your jawline and to your neck. His tongue grazed over the skin of your pulse point and you tangled your fingers through his hair, tugging lightly.

“Don’t go getting any ideas,” you teased. 

“Trust me,” he assured, moving up to peck your lips, “the ideas I’m having do not involve taking your life.” 

You slid a hand across his chest and began undoing the buttons of his shirt. “Thinking of taking something else?” you hummed against his lips. 

“Yes,” he replied as his hands wandered down your abdomen and brushed against your clothed core. Your breath shuddered as he teased you through your underwear, stroking your clit before sliding down to dip a finger in your entrance. 

A soft whine escaped you as he pressed sloppy kisses against your neck. You bucked your hips against his hand, desperate for more. 

He hooked a finger through the waistband of your panties and with the flick of his wrist they were falling off of you. Your gasp was quickly swallowed by his lips against yours and his deft fingers sliding through your folds. 

“So wet for me,” he praised as he circled your clit. He slowly inched a finger into your entrance, like he had multiple times before. He quickly added another finger and pumped it languidly within you, savoring the way you swallowed him whole and were begging for more. 

“Fuck me,” you whimpered as you ground your hips against the palm of his hand. “Please, Edward.” 

He removed his fingers and slipped them passed your lips, groaning as you eagerly swiped your tongue across the pads of his fingers. He fumbled for the buckle of his belt with his free hand and the smooth leather bumped against your inner thighs. You took the time to unclip your bra, allowing it to fall freely off your shoulders. You threw it elsewhere in the room, not caring where it landed. 

You gripped the side of his pants and helped him shimmy out of his slacks. His lips were back on yours faster than you could process. You were still getting used to his super speed after all this time. You reached down to palm him through his briefs, and he moaned against your lips. 

You looked up at him through your lashes as you slipped a hand past the waistband of his briefs and wrapped a hand around his cock. You pulled his length out of his briefs so you could freely stroke him. You slid your thumb over his pink-hued tip, which was the same color as his lips, spreading the precum that had begun to form. 

He bit back a gasp, his teeth sinking into his soft lips. You wanted to hear him. You knew all of those pretty little noises he could make, why was he holding back from you? 

“Please, Edward,” you begged, tugging him closer to you, “you promised.” 

He settled his hips between your thighs, one hand roaming your body while the other slid his length through your dripping folds. You arched against his touch and rested your hands on his shoulders, his soft skin under your fingertips grounding you. 

“I love you,” he murmured as he slowly pushed inside of you. A soft hiss escaped your lips as he inched inside of you. His eyes scanned your face, searching for the slightest inkling that you were uncomfortable. 

Quickly, the slight pain of him inside you morphed into pleasure. You’d never felt so full— so deeply connected with Edward. 

“You’re okay?” he asked, voice strained and pleading. Your hands shifted up to cradle his face, and you swiped a thumb over his cheek as you gave a quick nod. 

You pulled him toward you and pressed your lips against his, “I’m okay.” 

The plush skin of your thighs sunk under his grip as he started rocking into you. You buried your face into the crook of his neck, leaving kisses and nipping at the skin there. Each and every one of Edward’s thrusts is purposeful and deep, almost as if he’s trying to mark you as his own. The thought turned you on, and you clenched around him.

He propped himself up on the headboard with one arm to let his eyes rake over your form. Your tits bounced with each roll of his hips against yours, and his grip tightened on the headboard. The wood cracked and then splintered under his palm, but you didn’t care. You were making him feel good, and pride swelled in your chest. His eyebrows were pinched, his expression a mix of pleasure and thinly veiled restraint. 

“Don’t stop,” you begged, wrapping your legs around his hips and bringing him closer. “I can take it.” 

He groaned against the crook of your neck as his thrusts quickened. The room was filled with the sounds of the squelching of your heat and the soft music Edward had put on while you got changed. His free hand trailed across your thigh and moved to draw quick, tight circles around your clit. A breathy moan left you, and the familiar heat pooled in your belly. 

He left open-mouthed kisses along the column of your neck. His thrusts became short and sloppy as you neared your climax, your walls fluttering around him. 

“You feel so good,” he breathed against your neck, “wanna feel you cum around me.” 

You clenched around him in a vice grip as you came, a strangled cry and his name gracing your lips. You threw your head back into the pillow below you as your orgasm washed over you. Edward whined against you as he helped you ride out your high. 

Edward’s hips faltered against your own and he quickly pulled out of you. He didn’t get very far, though, and his release coated your thighs. You whimpered as it ran down your thighs, warmer than you thought it’d be. 

You panted, attempting to catch your breath. Edward leaned down and captured your lips in his. You reached up and ran a hand through his hair, pulling him closer. 

“I love you too,” you finally whispered as you pulled away. 

His lips curved into a smile, “Was it everything you imagined?” 

“Better,” you replied, your mind racing with a thousand different scenarios. Edward met your eyes before groaning, a boyish smile gracing his features as he lay beside you. 

[novthewolf]

Emmett Cullen smut drabble #1 :

Warnings : fem!reader, finger1ng, overstimulation, slight dacryphilia, size difference, praise, p in v mention, english isn't my first language.

*-*-*

"Don't get shy now, love… let me see those pretty eyes..." Emett leaned down to you, his thumb keeping your mouth open, your saliva coating his large digit. He kept two of his fingers buried deep inside you, crooked and thrusting in and out of you in an almost painful action. You've come already so many times, and despite the fact that your body was able to achieve that level of pleasure, the orgasms kept coming, more intense each time, causing your mind to grow hazy by the second.

He kept hovering over you, breath hot against your forehead before pressing a gentle kiss on your skin. "Come on, love… don't tell me you're already done..."

He drank in your mewls and the scratches of your nails down his large back to the skin of his hips. Emett tried to press deeper against your swollen spot, causing his knuckles to press against the pubic bone around your core. You whined and reached your hand to his, guiding his fingers to put less pressure.

Emett picked up on and changed his position right away. "I'm sorry, baby... That's it, shh... breathe with me. Yeah… you're doing good..." He cooed gently. He kissed your eyelid before gently trailing his kisses down your neck, perky nipples, and down to your juicy, dripping pussy. His tongue gave you a long lick through your reddening folds, making you arch, so, so sensitive.

"Do you want me to stop, love...?" He offered a gentle kiss on your inner thigh, over your stretch mark.

With a little shake of your head, you silently begged him to keep going. You wanted something; he saw it in your eyes. He nuzzled against your inner thigh and nibbled on the thin skin.

"So what do you want?" He murmured, giving a teasing lap along your right labia, making your back arch. Emett did it on purpose, not letting you form even a single coherent thought.

"I… I w-want… ah…!"

"What was that baby...?" He smirked and flicked your clit again. You whined and squirmed, and oh… he could see pretty little droplets of tears prickling in the corner of your eyes.

"Want your—ah! I want your cock…!" You whined, tears spilling out gently.

He chuckled and sat up, pressing his body in between your legs. "Not now, lovely... if your pretty little hole can't handle this… you sure can't handle me yet." Emett grinned as you answered his word with a sweet little whimper and an insisting hand on his hip.

"Aw… but how could I say no to such cute tears?" He almost purred and pushed his fingers inside again, right against your spongy spot along your gummy walls, drinking in your pitiful whimpers. "Fine, baby... since you've been such a good girl for me… I'll put it in. Just the tip."

He sat up on his knees, kicking the wet sheets out of the bed. He brought his heavy cock right up against your entrance. His cock rubbed up and down your tight hole, slowly, teasingly. Your breath catches in your throat in anticipation.

"Beg, babygirl."

[junkdrawerfics]

You're Scaring Me

Jasper Hale X Reader

Summary: Request - Can you write one where the reader does something major told her not to do and he gets mad when he finds out and then jasper tries to console her and she’s jus really guilty and upset and then the major comes back out and they talk it thru.

Word Count: 3558

Warning: Angsty maybe. Obviously some unhealthy anger stuff, but it ends well, I promise.

Note: I liked the idea of doing something with the wolves, but felt Jasper/the Major wouldn't ask you to stay away from people, especially if they were your friends. So I took a route regarding reader's safety, since he'd totally go feral over that.

---

Saying Forks was in the middle of a blizzard would be an under exaggeration.

You’d never seen snow like this. You could barely see past your front porch, it was coming down so hard. School had been canceled, of course, and Emmett had convinced the family it would be fun to try hunting with the added challenge of not being able to see.

Jasper had hesitated to join at first, to leave you alone in this storm since your parents were away, but it only took a little soft convincing from you for him to relent.

On one term, at least

“Please stay here ‘til we get back,” the blond repeats worriedly as he puts on a coat - that he doesn’t need, you might add

“It’s not that bad out, Jasper,” you chuckle, eyes glued out the window.

“Darlin.”

His voice shifts subtly. You blink, glancing back at him over your shoulder. Jasper stares right back at you, eyes narrowed, a familiar intensity burning behind them. Your body figures it out before you do, fine hairs standing on end, pupils dilating. A sharp contradiction to the smile that lights up your face.

“Yes, Major?” You ask, barely missing a beat. 

The man takes a step towards you, hands clasped behind his back, shoulders straight. It’d be intimidating if you didn’t know better.

“You goin’ to listen for me?” He asks, voice low, accent thicker than before.

“Of course, Major.”

The barest flicker of a smile pulls at the vampire’s lips. Such a sweet thing. The way you look at him - all wide, puppy dog eyes, attentive and loving - it makes him feel raw with the need to protect you, even if it’s just from the blizzard.

Tender in a way he’s never been, the Major touches your chin, drawing close enough that he can feel your warm breath stutter against his lips as he murmurs, “Then be a good girl and stay put for me. I don’t want you out in this weather.”

You can’t help but soften, fondness curling in your chest. He really is just a soft teddy bear at his core. 

“You don’t have to worry about me,” you insist, curling your arms around his waist, “I won’t go out, I promise.”

“Good.” The Major closes the small gap between you, lips pressing against yours in an unrelenting kiss. It’s all you can do to keep yourself upright as his hand curls along your jaw, drawing you closer, closer, until your head is spinning from the feeling. You’d think he’s going off to war again by the way he kisses you.

You can barely catch your breath when he pulls away. Heat blooms across your cheeks, and you bury your face in his chest to hide it, which earns a low chuckle from the blond. He presses another kiss to your temple, this one softer, gentler.

“Love you, darlin,” he murmurs, all honey and sweet and Jasper again.

You melt against him, voice muffled by his sweater, “Love you too, Jazz. Stay safe, please.”

“I won’t be long,” he reassures you, “Emmett will give in when he realizes all the animals are hidin’ from the weather.”

You huff a laugh. Perhaps. Emmett is stubborn, reckless, and stubbornly reckless. Once he has an idea in his mind, it’s hard to get him off it, like today. But you’re sure Jasper’s right. He’ll give up once he gets bored.

“I’ll hold you to that mister. I’ll be lonely without you.”

“Well, we can’t have that, now can we?” He leans down, catching your lips one final time. You can feel his grin through the kiss. “Just a couple hours, darlin’. I’ll drag him back if I have to after that.”

He’s still reluctant to leave, but the nagging worries are quieter now, enough that he can drag himself from the comfort of your touch to join his brothers outside. You watch them disappear into the haze of snow, like ghosts, before shuffling back to your kitchen to work on some homework.

It shouldn’t be so hard to stay busy until they get back. Right?

---

That’s what you thought, at least. But one hour quickly turns to two, which quickly turns to three and still no Jasper. By the fifth hour, you’ve finished all your work and find yourself staring into an empty fridge with a growling stomach.

Of course your parents would forget to stock up before going on a business trip.

Chewing the inside of your cheek, you glance outside. It’s still snowing, but not…as bad. You could probably make it to the grocery store and back without any problems. And you’d probably get back before they do, so Jasper wouldn’t even know.

Everything would be fine.

You layer up, tucking a scarf tightly around your neck. It might be a little lighter outside, but it’s still well below freezing. It’ll be quick, though. The grocer is maybe a five minute walk, and you only need a couple things.

Popping your hood up, you grab your house keys and venture out, shuffling the whole way there.

---

“Brave of you to venture out in this,” the cashier chimes, scanning your microwave meal and milk - you figure you might as well get stuff for breakfast too.

“Didn’t have much of a choice,” you hum shakily, teeth still chattering as you hand him some cash, “I’d rather be cold for a bit instead of going hungry.”

“Fair ‘nough!” The cash register dings and he hands you some change. “Stay safe out there, miss.”

“Thanks.” You cast him a smile, “You too. Hope it clears up a bit before you have to leave.”

“God willing.”

You slip your gloves back on and heave the bag of supplies from the counter. 

On the walk back, you’re a little less careful, eyes wandering as you tread through the snow. The journey here hadn’t been so bad. Sure you’d almost slipped a few times, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as you thought it’d be. It was actually almost nice, once your face went numb at least.

Your thoughts wander to the food in your hands, pace picking up a bit as you think about how nice a warm meal will be after this. And well earned after a long day of work and a hazardous journey to get it. Maybe you could cuddle up on the couch and turn on a movie while you eat. That sounds ni-

-and you’re falling.

You screech, boots slipping against the ice as the world tilts wildly. Instinctually, your eyes squeeze shut and you wait for the impact, hoping your layers might be enough to cushion the fall.

They are, thankfully. But they aren’t enough to stop your ankle from twisting as you tumble a bit off the sidewalk.

The pain is instant. It pulses up your leg, sharp and fiery compared to the cold seeping into your bones. You suck in a sharp breath, teeth gritting as you bury your face in the snow. It’s all you can do to keep yourself from crying, that stinging sensation starting in your eyes, a lump forming in your throat.

God, you’re so screwed.

—

“Darlin, I’m back,” Jasper calls out softly, brushing the ice from his hair as he slips into your warm house.

Almost instantly, he can tell something’s wrong. Jasper stops, brow furrowing. Usually you’d be bounding up to tackle him by now, a beautiful smile on your lips, asking how things went. It’s something constant, a custom he enjoys more than he’ll admit.

There’s no greeting this time, though. Even as he stills, focusing on the sounds of the house, he can’t hear a thing. No footsteps, no heartbeat. It’s eerily silent, empty. 

You’re not here.

An uneasy feeling settles in his chest. Jasper speeds through the house, checking each room, hoping his ears are just tricking him. Maybe you’re just asleep or reading in some corner. With each empty room, though, the feeling worsens, gripping him by the throat, unrelenting and violent. He’s spiraling, he knows it, can tell he’s walking along an all too familiar edge, blurred between himself and-

The Major pauses at the door to your bedroom. Empty. Your coat isn’t where you usually leave it. Neither are your boots. It leaves little doubt in his mind where you’ve gone.

You didn’t listen to him. 

The blond takes a slow breath, holding back the anger that washes over him, white hot and smoldering. 

It’s rare for you to not listen to him. You know his none-too-gentle requests are for your safety, they always are. Because while Jasper would rather die a million times than see you hurt, the Major would bring the world to its knees if it meant keeping you safe. He’s never had something as good as you in his life and the need to protect that, to protect you, well - that drives him to his knees. And now you’re out in this storm. By yourself.

The door slams as he throws himself back out into the snow to find you.

---

The snow is picking up, you notice glumly as you carefully flip over in the snow. Even the slightest movement makes pain prickle up your leg, but you can’t lay face down in the snow much longer, not with how you’re quickly losing feeling in your nose.

You sniffle, swiping at your eyes to keep the tears away. What are you supposed to do now? It’s not like you can stay out here. Frostbite doesn’t exactly sound appealing, but neither does the idea of limping home with this pain. You could call…No, no, he’d be so mad. You can’t call Jasper.

Not that fate really cares about what you think.

You squeak when a pair of arms suddenly lifts you out of the snow. The only thing that keeps you from screaming is the familiar cold touch of your captor and the mess of blond hair flickering in the snowy breeze. The fear slowly disappears when you realize it’s just Jasper.

Quickly replaced by a tight, anxious feeling in your chest when you see the tense set of his jaw and how the lines in his neck stand out under his pale skin. He’s upset. He’s upset with you and your ankle is still throbbing and your eyes are stinging again and-

You inhale shakily, an apology ready to spill off your lips, but the look he gives you makes it all die on your tongue. His usually stoic expression turns dark, eyes narrowed with barely restrained anger.

“You open that mouth, sugar, and I promise I won’t be goin’ easy on you,” he drawls, low and heavy, accent dripping off each word.

Not Jasper. You bite your lip, eyes immediately dropping to your lap. Definitely not Jasper.

You can’t bring yourself to break the stifling silence after that. Not when you can practically feel the Major’s anger radiating from him, which does nothing to ease the turmoil swirling inside of you. The soldier is never this open with his emotions, usually so careful to maintain a mask of indifference. With each step, you can feel the tension rising, his grip tightening, and your chest almost hurts from how hard your heart is beating.

It all comes to a head when you make it to the house. The moment your feet hit the ground, and he knows you're safe, the reins of his control slip, an uncontainable rage burning through him.

“I told you not to go out,” he mutters, pacing back and forth in your small entryway. 

He can’t stay still, too scared of what he could do. Every cell in his body desires to pin you against the wall, handle you rough and selfish, make you realize how awful it felt to come back and find you gone. But he can’t. He won’t. That’s not what you deserve, he knows that. Jasper would be better at this, he would be gentle, but the Major has never been good at gentle.

You blink at him, wide-eyed from the door. It’s like watching a lion pace at the bars of a zoo, except there’s nothing between you and him. Nothing to keep you safe except him. He could do anything and you wouldn’t be able to stop him. You’re just a human, after all. And the Major has had his share of violence. Even though you know he would never hurt you, you can’t stop your hands from shaking.

“I wasn’t, I wasn’t going to be out long,” you try and explain, digging your fingers into the material of your coat, “I promise-”

“You promised you’d stay put,” he drawls roughly, hands clenching behind his back.

“I was just goi- going to get food!”

The blond grits his teeth, his usual impassive tone sharpening, “What on earth were you thinkin’?”

“I- I thought I’d be back before you,” you spit out, and immediately snap your mouth shut.

The Major stops pacing, every muscle in his body going rigid. You bite your cheek, pulse racing as he slowly turns to you, those gold eyes burning so dark you swear they almost look red. Like blood. Something tightens in your chest. That was the wrong thing to say.

“So you purposefully disobeyed my orders?”

“I didn’t-”

“You decided to be foolish and risk your life goin’ out in this storm,” he growls, slowly closing the space between you, “without anyone knowin’?”

You shrink back a little, panic clouding your head. The Major stops in front of you, frame towering over yours, making you feel impossibly small. Tears prick at your eyes as you shuffle back against the door, pain shooting up your leg as you put weight on it.

“Answer me, darlin.” He doesn’t relent, eyes burning into you. Waiting.

A lump forms in your throat. You bite your cheek, desperate to keep the tears at bay, eyes glued to his boots. You can’t. You can’t do this.

But the blood drains from your face when a fist slams into the door beside you, practically splintering the wood. You can feel it shake against you before settling into silence.

“I’m not goin’ to ask again, (Y/n),” he murmurs, deadly calm again.

You hold your breath, slowly bringing your eyes back up to the Major, and the look on his face makes your heart drop. It’s drawn into something unnervingly blank, cold. No more anger, just…

“Major-“ A tear breaks down your cheek, your voice unbearably quiet. “You’re scaring me.”

The change is instant.

Like light breaking through the clouds, the emptiness leaves his eyes, filling them back with warmth and concern and love.

And you crumble.

Jasper catches you with ease, arms wrapping around you tenderly as he lowers you both on the ground. You curl into him, face buried in his coat as the tears come freely now. You couldn’t stop them even if you wanted, and you’re just so tired, so hurt. There’s nothing left in you, all you can do is cry and cling to him for dear life.

“‘m sorry, I’m sorry,” you hiccup miserably, and Jasper feels his still heart break. “I’m so sorry, Jazz, I didn’t mean to. I just, I just needed food, and it wasn’t that far, and I thought- I thought-”

He hushes you softly, fingers brushing through your hair as he unwinds the swirling mess of your emotions. You can feel it, you’ve always been able to, the subtle shifts and gentle pulls. Never too much, because he knows you wouldn’t want that, but enough so you’re not drowning in them. 

Eventually you’re calm enough to take a full breath, the air stuttering past your lips as you go limp in Jasper’s hold. He draws you tight against him, brushing his hand down to rest at the nape of your neck, just a comforting, constant pressure. 

“You’ve nothin’ to apologize for, darlin,” he murmurs eventually, voice muffled in your hair. “I’m the one who should be. I had no right treatin’ you like that, no matter how worried I was.”

“But-”

“No,” he cuts you off firmly. “It wasn’t right, darlin. It was my fault for bein’ late. He…He’s mighty overprotective of you, and he- I don’t know how to handle myself well when it comes to you. I hope you can forgive me.”

“I do…” You sniffle, the sound soft and sad, but your grip on him tightens. “But I should’ve listened, then I wouldn’t have slipped and gotten hurt.”

Jasper pulls you back suddenly, brows furrowed in surprise, “What? You’re hurt? Where? Do I need to get Carlisle?”

You laugh weakly, his overwhelming concern easing the tightness left in your chest. The tension drips from your muscles, adrenaline slowing. “No, no, I’m fine. I just, I fell…outside and I think I twisted my ankle, is all.”

“Let me see.”

You squeak as he sweeps you up for the second time today. You wrap your arms around his neck as he carries you to the couch. Every touch is slow, careful, as he sets you down and goes to work on getting your boots off. You wince a little when you have to bend your ankle, and he murmurs a quiet apology.

Relief washes over you though when his cool fingers smooth over your heated skin. It’s like the best ice pack ever. You can’t help but sink into the couch with a sigh, eyes fluttering shut.

Jasper purses his lips. It must have been a bad fall since your ankle is angry and swollen. He should have come back sooner, then this wouldn’t have happened. You wouldn’t have gone out in the storm, you wouldn’t be hurt, and the Major never would have scared you.

His thoughts flashes back to the look on your face. The fear glimmering in your eyes as he leaned over you. It’s burned into his mind, replaying over and over.

“Major, you’re scaring me.”

After a few seconds too long of silence, you peek an eye open. Jasper kneels, statue still in front of you, eyes set on something distant. A frown catches your lips, and you lean forward, touching his chin gingerly. Those gold eyes dart up to you, coming into focus, flicking between their usual warmth and a familiar steeliness. You shake your head fondly.

“Major,” you call, hand resting against his cheek, “come on, let’s talk.”

He straightens ever so slightly, but instead of drawing back like you’d expect, the stoic man covers your hand with his own, turning to skim his nose to the inside of your wrist. He takes a deep breath, eyes closed. You sit there, just like that for a while, watching him quietly.

When he talks, his voice is a low, calm rumble, his lips brushing against your skin, “I’m sorry for actin’ like such an animal, sugar.”

You purse your lips. A part of you wants to just forgive him. Move on from all of this and forget it. But then you remember the sound of his fist hitting the door, the way it resounded in your chest in place of your heartbeat. You’ve never felt like that, and you don’t want to feel like that again.

“I know you were worried,” you start nervously, wetting your lips. The Major doesn’t say a word, eyes set on you patiently, just waiting for you to continue. You take another deep breath, “I know you asked me to stay home and it upset you that I didn’t. I know you want to keep me safe. But…but it scared me, how angry you got, and that’s, that’s not okay.”

“It’s not,” he hums in agreement, thumb brushing soothingly over your pulse.

You nod and feel a little more confident as you go on, “I, I might do something you don’t like in the future, and if I do, you need to talk to me first. Nicely, please. I love you, like I love Jasper, but we’re equals, even if you’re a lot stronger and bigger than me. ” His lips twitch a little in amusement. You shoot him a scolding look, which makes him fall back into seriousness. “I don’t take orders. I listen because I know you care, but you need to listen to me, too. Understood?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He pulls your hand back, pressing a brief kiss to your knuckles. It softens you a bit. A small smile draws across your lips. “You have my solemn word, it won't happen again. And my deepest apologies.”

“You’re forgiven,” you chirp. The last of your worries melt away at the smile he gives you, all lopsided and charming. You shake your head with a laugh, “But you owe me, mister.”

“Well, of course,” he concedes easily, desiring nothing more than to cheer you up now, “What can I do for you, little lamb?”

Shifting awkwardly, careful of your ankle, you jab a finger at the plastic bag you dropped by the door, “Make me some dinner! Cause I’m starving and that’s what got us into this mess.”

The vampire laughs, fully laughs. It’s something you don’t get to hear often, so you absolutely love it. Love him and the way his eyes crinkle with mirth as he pushes himself to his feet, tipping a nonexistent hat to you. Jasper.

“It would be my pleasure, darlin.”

“Thanks, hun.”

---

This was SO hard to write! I suck at doing anger, because it's hard to represent the unhealthy relationship stuff. I tried to turn it around cause I believe ultimately he's a respectful man, and that's how I want to portray him.

So I hope you guys like this! Sorry if the pacing's weird or anything, I just wanted to get it done!

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

Rosalie and Jasper talking about reader who is sleeping peacefully but had a nightmare episode a few nights ago

Can't Escape the Nightmares

Pairing(s): Jasper Hale x Human!Reader, platonic!Rosalie Hale x Human!Reader

Warnings: mentions of past assault, mentions of past rape, noncon themes discussed, reader is jasper's mate, platonic!rosaliexreader, human!reader, nightmares, trauma, ptsd, dark content, mention of blood, brief mention of murder/death, short

Words: 624

Cradle (pt2)

Rosalie pets your hair with the tenderest of fingers as you slept with your head on her lap, head cushioned by a pillow. Your mate Jasper was off with Emmett and Edward for a boy's night. Which was quite unfortunate as he was one of the few who could subdue your nightmares that constantly plagued you. Thankfully you found the same sense of calm when you were with Rosalie.

She'd left a text to Jasper, telling him to come home when he gets the chance but that was a while ago. Maybe he didn't have cell service out there.

Drawing the blanket closer to you, Rosalie makes sure you're bundled so her naturally cold skin doesn't make you freeze. What she would give to be able to see into your dreams to make sure they were sweet. You'd been through enough in the waking world, you shouldn't have to suffer them again as you slept.

Was it really only four years ago that she followed the sound of your screams into the woods and found you being assaulted in the worst ways possible. When she saw you there, she was taken back to a time where Rosalie was in a similar scenario. There was no prior thinking involved in her decision to rescue you and kill the men responsible.

She didn't even know what she'd do with you once she finished killing them. When Rosalie gazed down at your dirty face and trembling body she was not willing to leave you out there by yourself. You were swiftly brought to the Cullen house so Carlisle could attend to you.

And from there. . . you and Jasper fell in love. You were there to stay.

The back door alarms ding, Rosalie nearly jumps to her feet before she remembers you were fast asleep using her for comfort.

She needn't even budge. In a second, Jasper was in the living room with them. Eyes brimming with concern when he regards your sleeping form. "Was it bad?"

Rosalie hums and resumes stroking your head. "She's had worse."

Jasper kneels down so that he could get close to kiss the bridge of your nose. You'd been doing so well this past month; no nightmares for several consecutive days and it looked to be keeping strong. Of course the one night you push Jasper out to join his brothers in hunting would be the night you'd get a nightmare.

"Remember what Carlisle told us." Rosalie reminds Jasper in a warm yet warning tone. "It's from her PTSD. She may never really recover. All we can do is help her when she's suffering from it." Maneuvering herself so that Jasper had easier access to you, he picks you up blankets and all.

He often thinks back to the day Rosalie brought you home. Bruised, naked, dirty and so terrified that your bottom lip couldn't stop trembling. Bright red was splashed across Rosalie's face and even dyed parts of her hair where blood had spattered on. Time itself had stopped in that moment. Rosalie holding you looked like a painting from Titian.

It was funny, the contrast between how Rosalie treated you compared to Bella. Night and Day. From that day on, Rosalie always kept an eye on you similar to a mother hen. It didn't surprise anyone in the family, knowing what Rosalie had gone through was quite similar to what had happened to you. A morbid, kindred familiarity that made Rosalie soften up to you.

"Thank you, for being there for her." Jasper whispers. Unequivocal tenderness warms Rosalie's eyes as she watches Jasper hold you.

"Don't be stupid." her voice mellow like a drip of honey. "Even if you didn't want me to be, I'll always be there for her."

[cece693]

Here goes out the finest dilf of all time (or at least in the twilight universe)—Charlie swan!!! I couldn't stop thinking about writing something for him and this idea came suddenly to me. Never was a Renee fan so this is going to bash her character immensely. Hope you enjoy!

Day Before the Wedding

pairing: charlie swan x gender neutral reader tags: Renee is a dick, Bella and Charlie are awesome, you're a cullen, not specified if you're human or a vampire, but in my head you are a vamp, green doesn't look good on Renee, Charlie getting his happily ever after :)

It happens at twilight, that slow drift of evening light stretching across the sky as you linger in the living room of the Swan household. The final touches for tomorrow’s wedding are in place—flowers tucked into vases, rows of chairs set out in the backyard, and the delicate swirl of ribbons hanging from the porch. You’d expected a hush of satisfaction to fill the house, a sense of calm before the celebration. Instead, a quiet tension hangs in the air.

The source is no mystery: Renee.

She’d arrived in Forks only a few days prior. Though your instincts bristled at the idea—her history with Charlie is…complicated—you encouraged him to extend an invitation anyway. After all, she’s still Bella’s mother, and you wanted to show good will and maturity. We’re all family in some sense, you told yourself.

But over the last few days, you’ve seen that courtesy returned with thinly veiled resentment. Jealousy. She’s not only upset that Charlie found happiness without her; it stings her pride to see him with someone better, someone from the Cullen family—a name practically synonymous with wealth, good looks, and that uncanny aura of perfection. Bella’s acceptance of you (not minding the fact she was also dating one certain Cullen boy) only poured salt in the wound.

Now, on the last evening before your wedding, it’s come to a head.

You’re in the living room, adjusting a loose piece of ribbon on one of the floral arrangements, when you hear raised voices in the kitchen. “You just can’t wait to rub this in my face, can you? Inviting me here, of all places. Picturing me watching while you marry someone from that Cullen family—Bella’s been practically adopted by them!”

“Renee,” Charlie warned, trying to keep his voice calm. “I invited you here because you’re Bella’s mother and because, once long ago, I loved you. I want to share my happiness—”

“Oh, you’re happy, all right. Happier than you ever were with me! And I’m supposed to just smile?”

Bella’s voice, tense but controlled: “Mom, this is ridiculous.”

Renee’s voice, pitched higher: “You don’t get it, Bella. You never do.”

A muffled response, then the sound of something bumping—a chair or a cabinet. Concern prickles at your chest. Setting the ribbons aside, you hurry into the kitchen to find Charlie, his face drawn tight with worry, standing between Bella and Renee. The two women glare at each other as if the slightest spark would set them off. When Renee sees you in the doorway, her expression sours further, eyes flicking to the ring on your finger. “And here they come. Perfect.”

“Mom, stop acting like Dad meeting them”—Bella jerks her head toward you—“is some personal insult to you. It’s not. He’s happy. I’m happy for him.”

Renee’s mouth twists. “Yes, I see how happy you all are,” she says bitterly. “With your perfect house”—her gaze sweeps over the tastefully decorated living room—“and your perfect wedding. How wonderful that Charlie finally managed to find someone to spend his days with.”

Charlie stiffens, and Bella’s face contorts with anger, but you don’t let the words affect you. It’s clear Renee’s lashing out from a place of jealousy—her ex-husband is moving on, and her daughter is slipping further away from the role of caretaker she once played in Renee’s life. You pity the woman, but you also know stirring the pot will accomplish nothing. So, with a calm only a Cullen could possess, you step forward.

“Renee,” you say gently, “I’m sorry you’re upset. We wanted you here for Charlie’s sake, and for Bella’s. But if being here is hurting you—”

Renee cuts you off with a sharp laugh, though her eyes shine with something that looks far too raw to be mere anger. “Hurting me? The only thing hurting me is watching you all pretend I’m the bad guy for feeling left behind. I was his wife, I’m Bella’s mother—am I not allowed to be upset that I’ve been replaced?”

Bella bristles. “You haven’t been replaced,” she fires back, trying to keep her voice level. “You have a place in my life, Mom. No one’s trying to take that away from you. But you can’t expect Dad to stay single and miserable just to spare your feelings.”

Charlie steps in then, his voice quieter but full of resolve. “Renee, we’ve both moved on. It didn’t have to be ugly. I wanted you here because you’re still family—Bella’s family. But if you can’t be happy for us, maybe it’s best you go.”

A tension-filled silence takes hold for a moment. Renee’s eyes flick over each of you—lingering on you, with the ring on your finger and the subtle but elegant engagement band that Charlie gave you. There’s bitterness in her gaze, but you also sense her pain. She scoffs softly, turning away. “Fine,” she mutters. “I’ll go. I’m sure the Cullens can give Charlie everything I never could. Congratulations.”

“Mom,” Bella tries one more time, a tremor in her voice. “Please don’t be like this.”

Renee snatches her jacket from the back of a chair. “I’m heading back to the motel, and I’ll be on the first flight out in the morning.” She strides out, the front door slamming behind her. The echo of it reverberates through the house, leaving the three of you standing in silence. Outside, rain begins to patter against the windows, a soft drumming that underscores the hollow ache left behind.

Charlie exhales, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, looking at you. “She didn’t have to speak to you that way.”

Bella’s eyes brim with frustration and sorrow. “If I’d known she was going to act like that, I wouldn’t have—” She cuts off, sighing deeply. “I’m sorry too. This was supposed to be a happy time.”

You let out a soft breath and wave your hand in dismissal, stepping forward to take each of their hands. “Don’t apologize. You wanted to include her because you care—and it was the right thing to do. It’s not your fault she decided to be upset instead of supportive.”

Bella’s lips tremble into a small, thankful smile. “Thanks for understanding,” she says, voice hushed.

Charlie squeezes your hand, gratitude shining in his eyes. “You could have fought back. She was practically begging for an argument.”

You shrug gently. “I won’t let her anger spoil tomorrow for us.” You pause, voice gentle but firm. “We love each other. Bella’s on our side. We have our family—Cullen and Swan both. That’s enough for me.” A wistful look crosses Charlie’s face, but he nods. He pulls you into an embrace, resting his chin atop your head. Bella steps closer, joining in—no words needed as the three of you stand together, finding warmth in each other’s presence. In twenty-four hours, you’ll be at the altar with Charlie, Bella by your side, and the Cullens in attendance—ready to begin a life built on love, acceptance, and hope. If Renee can’t be part of it…that’s her choice to bear.

[solnyshko-moyo]

when in rome

i didn't have anywhere else to post this so here

Prompt: Going to Italy to save your sister’s exboyfriend is not how you wanted to spend your weekend.

Pairing: Reader x Felix

WC: 2,818

“Bella, you and Alice run ahead to find Edward. I’ll ditch the car and catch up with you guys.” You urge your half sister as the car comes to a complete stop around all the tourists heading to the square. Bella doesn’t need to be told twice, leaping out of the car and taking off running.

Alice eyes you in the mirror suspiciously. “Oh please, like I want Bella going into a vampire den alone. I’ll catch up.” Alice fully turns around in her seat, shock written all over her face. “You guys are literally terrible at being inconspicuous. I figured it out before Bella even moved to Forks.” You roll your eyes and throw your hands up.

“If we are already inside by the time you catch up, stay in the square. They don’t need to know about you.” Alice already regrets bringing you, wishing you’d gotten back to the Swan house ten minutes later than you did. But that stupid mongrel begged you to go with them to watch over Bella and Bella stupidly agreed with him. You’re a wild card to her, never showing up in her visions so she never knows what’s actually going to happen when  you’re involved. Another reason why she wishes you didn’t come but Bella wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Easy enough. Can I have your wallet?” You ask and Alice throws her head back, letting out a laugh. “What? If I don’t make it in time I can get us Italian accessories. Think of the leather Alice.” Alice grins at you, handing over her wallet before climbing out of the car.

You jump over the seat into the driver's seat of the convertible. “I knew I liked you. I’m a size 0 if you find anything good.” Alice says knowing you won’t have time to catch up with them until later since noon is now only a few minutes away. It’s better this way anyways. She leaves you in the car surrounded by the sea of people to chase down your sister.

You finally manage to pull the convertible into an alleyway and make your way down the path with the other festival goers. You don’t see your sister or Alice at the entrance of the clock tower so you wander down a side street full of small shops and bistros. There’s a spare red cloak thrown over a railing and you look around for anyone it could belong to before snatching it up as you walk by it. Throwing it over your shoulders, you wander into a boutique full of different accessories. There’s a pretty scarf like the one Alice was wearing and you decide you need one too. It’s not like Carlilse can’t afford it so you don’t really feel bad. There’s some matching gloves on the table below the scarf rack and you decide that those would be lovely as well. Maybe coming to Italy wasn’t entirely bad. You grab a handbag that was in the same cream background as Alice’s scarf for her, thinking it would look nice with her outfit. You swipe Carlisle’s card, giddy the transaction went through successfully.

Your next stop was the bistro down the street for a snack until Alice calls you telling you they are done. The two elderly Italian women sitting next to you are so cute gossiping over their espresso and biscotti. The waiter brings you the bottle of wine you ordered  and tells you in his sexy accent that your bruschetta will be out shortly. Yeah, you think, maybe you do like Italy. Cute boys and you’re able to legally drink? Total score. You feel bad your sister is somewhere in the vampire police den but Alice wouldn’t have let her out of the car if things didn’t work out right? Everythings going to be fine, you tell yourself. And what are you supposed to do? Traipse into a vampire den saying you're Bella’s sister and get them in more trouble?

You pull your book from the tote bag you had barely enough time to grab before Bella was dragging you out the door back in Forks. All that’s in there is twenty bucks, your book, your sweater, Alice’s new purse and the granola bar the airline gave you. You sip your wine as you read your book, enjoying the midday sun Edward was going to expose himself with.

Everything was going great until you got the uneasy tingle on the back of your neck like you’re being watched. Your tab had been paid for a while and the bistro’s starting to get busier so you figure it’s just other patrons waiting for your table. Corking your half drank bottle, you wander down the street looking for a bench you could continue reading at, hoping there’s maybe a park nearby. As you walk down the street the uneasy feeling subsides and you wonder how long Bella and Alice are going to be.

As you’re passing a narrow alleyway a cold hand clamps over your mouth and everything blurs around you. When your vision finally clears you’re in the iron grip of a grey cloaked figure that’s impervious to your struggling. You kick behind you at his shins, stop on his foot, and thrash in his arms to no avail. You’re hoisted over his holder and everything blurs around you again. You realize you’re moving at vampire speed, probably through alleyways in the city. Screaming out you continue to wiggle and kick your legs as best as you can, pounding on his back with your free hand, the other clutching your tote for dear life.

“Let me go you mother fucker!” You yell still trying to harm him with your fists and feet. The vampire carrying you just grunts. 

You bite his hip angrily which does make him falter for a second. “Did you just bite me, human?” He asks incredulously, not believing your feralness.

“Let me go!” You struggle in his grasp but he keeps going, running through god knows what, all you know is it stinks wherever you are. You grip the half drunk bottle of wine in your hand once you enter a more lit area. You lift yourself up from your dangling position and swing across your body and over your shoulder as hard as you can to connect with the back of your kidnappers head. The bottle shatters and he stumbles a few steps not expecting more violence from you. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?” He yells at you, shocked at your behavior. You start stabbing the jagged end of the bottle into his back until it is so broken you can risk more without cutting yourself.

“Me? You’re fucking kidnapping me!” You scream back at him, resuming your thrashing. He finally halts in front of giant stone doors, pushing them open with one hand and not releasing you until you’re in the room and the doors shut behind him. 

“Santiago, what is the meaning of this?” A voice demands from behind you. You rip yourself out of his grasp stumbling a few steps away. 

“Y/N!” Bella exclaims and you whip around to where your sister, Alice and Edward are all standing gobsmacked. You rush over to stand with them, away from Santiago.

“Master that human is a terror! She bit me! She broke a wine bottle over my head! She tried stabbing me with the broken glass!” Santiago pointed at you, trying to explain himself.

“You fucking grabbed me walking down the street and didn’t say shit, you asshole!” You yell at him pointing an accusing finger back at him. The dark haired vampire lets out a startled laugh and your whirl around seeing Edward is trying to suppress a smile.

“Ah, dear. I’m sorry for Santiago’s behavior. We sent him to collect you so you could stand trial.” The vampire tries to explain coming to stand before you. He holds his hand out to yours, raising his eyebrows. You give him your hand and he looks utterly confused grasping it.

“Stand trial for what? I don’t claim him.” You point to Edward, bewildered this is even a problem involving you.

“For knowing of our existence you daft, insolent girl.” The blonde sitting on a throne behind the brunette snarls at you.

“We learned of you from Alice’s thoughts. Your knowledge of vampires.” The vampire let go of your hand breezing back towards the steps leading to the thrones.

“Because you guys do such a fantastic job at hiding it.” You roll your eyes and shake your head. These people are somehow even more conspicuous than the Cullens are.

“You didn’t say anything.” Bella mumbles hurt, eyes filled with betrayal.

“If Mr Emo’s ‘This is the skin of a killer, Bella’ didn’t give you the ick I doubt anything I said would’ve changed your mind.” You raise your eyebrows, knowing damn well your stubborn sister would’ve only pursued him harder.

Her jaw drops and eyes almost bug out of her skull. “How do you know about that?” Her face is red and Edward looks a little embarrassed. A few of the vampires across the room try to hide their laughter but fail. You glance over, catching the eyes of the taller one and his face falls.

You turn back to your sister and shrug, “You talk in your sleep sometimes.” You remember the night she mumbled that and how you almost peed yourself laughing.

“Enough.” The blond stands and you roll your eyes again. You wonder how old he is to be this miserable he’s taking it out on everyone else.

“Aro.” The other vampire sitting on a throne holds his hand out. The vampire, Aro, rushes over to him, grasping his hand. 

“How delightful! Congratulations Felix!” He beams over at the guards who were laughing, the big one still staring at you. “It looks like everyone gets to live today!” You wonder what the hell he means by that. “Young Y/N must stay but everyone else may leave.” What the double hell?

“Um, Bella can’t just go home without me? What is she supposed to tell our Dad? That she just left me in Italy? That’s not going to fly.” You feel yourself getting angry, who the hell are these people to tell you that you can’t leave.

“Ah, that is a valid point. Perhaps returning home for a short period of time so you can get your affairs in order would be beneficial to keeping unwanted eyes looking into your sudden disappearance. We will have Gianna draft up a fake internship invitation.” Aro claps his hands in delight, coming down to hold his hands out to grasp yours again. “Felix, Demetri, show our friends to a waiting area until they can depart when the sun goes down. It was so delightful meeting you both, we will be seeing you dears soon.”

The big vampire and the one standing next to him both moved towards the door, Edward glaring at the cocky smirk the big one sends his way. You wonder what you missed. You also kind of wish you still had that wine if you have to stay until the sun goes down.

“Miss Y/N, if you’d come with me for a few moments. I would like to speak with you privately.” The big one offers you his arm and you feel Alice’s tiny hand nudge you towards him. You take his arm glancing back at her but she gives you an encouraging smile as they continue walking in the opposite direction of you two. Bella looks like she wants to protest but Edward shakes his head at her.

“Are you Felix or Demetri?” You ask the muscular vampire as he leads you away.

He chuckles, “Felix but you may call me whatever you’d like, bambolina.” You wonder why he was being congratulated earlier and what it has to do with you and why you almost weren’t allowed to leave.

You enter a room after walking with him through a maze of halls. The stone walls are decorated with paintings of landscapes and scenes of ancient Rome. The pantheon and coliseum in their heydays, a gladiator fighting, the seven hills. They were all beautiful. There was a bookshelf full of books and a seating area, a dresser. You realize this must be his bedroom minus the unnecessary bed.

He leads you over to the seating area, opting to sit on it next to you when you settle on the couch. There’s a brief silence where you stare at each other waiting for the other to start speaking. You have nothing to say not knowing why you’re here but you know it’s because of him so you figure he can speak first.

Felix must catch on because he clears his throat, “How much do you know about vampires?” He asks hesitantly not sure where to start.

“Not much. I figured them out because their cover story sucks and they are kinda strange. Adopted siblings all with the same colored eyes, yeah right.” You scoff, shaking your head. “The old legends about vampires say you guys are ice cold, strong, fast. I figure since they are also ice cold that the rest would be true too. Alice said something about visions and Bella had to run ahead because he’d hear her coming. So I don’t really know why if Bella’s louder than she would be.” You shrug, you didn’t really care enough for clarifying questions. “Alice only found out I knew when we were in town.”

“So not much then. Yes, we have super strength and speed. We can hear, see, and smell better as well. The Cullens and a few other covens are vegetarians, meaning they drink animal blood instead of human blood which is why their eyes are gold instead of red.” Felix pauses and you nod along, your eyes a little unfocused as you think through his explanation. “Some vampires have additional gifts that vary from vampire to vampire. Alice has visions of the future, Edward can hear people’s thoughts, I’m stronger than the average vampire.”

“Oh, that’s what they meant then.” You nod again, understanding a little bit better.

Felix hesitates before continuing. “From your lack of knowledge I assume you don’t know of mates.” He pauses and lets you shake your head confirming you don’t know. “It’s like soulmates but for vampires.”

He watches your eyebrows raise as you slowly nod, putting the final pieces of the puzzle together. “And I take it that I’m yours?” He nods his head unsure of what to say. “Which is why that guy wasn’t going to let me leave.”

He snorts a laugh, “That guy is one of the coven leaders, Aro. And no, originally we were going to keep you here. It’s difficult to be apart from your mate. The urge to protect your mate is very strong and since you’re human it heightens that. Having you leave to somewhere I could not ensure your safety adds a level of anxiety but uprooting your entire life without notice I believe would create an animosity that I don’t wish for us to start with. If you hadn’t spoken up I would’ve even if it wasn’t what I wanted.” He explains in a seriousness that surprises you.

You give a small smile. “That’s very thoughtful of you.” 

He smiles back before responding, “We only get one mate. I wasn't going to screw it up in the first ten minutes.” He’s overjoyed you didn’t outright reject him. 

“Do you have a phone so we could talk when I’m in Forks?” You ask almost shyly, you’d never had to ask for someone’s number before. Forks is so small, everyone knows everyone.

“I don’t but I will acquire one so we can stay in touch.” Felix promises even more elated you want to get to know him more.

The two of you talk for a little bit longer before he leads you back through the maze of hallways to where your sister and the Cullens are waiting. Felix bows deeply and kisses the top of your hand, smiling and saying “We will talk soon, tesoro.” You smile and wave goodbye before entering the hallway and going to stand with your sister.

Bella almost squeezes the life out of you, hugging you so hard. You laugh, reassuring her you’re fine and unharmed. You wonder what’s all going to happen now, how you are going to tell Charlie you’re leaving. Originally after graduating this year, you were going to just go to college in Seattle to stay close to home but now you have to return here. Will you have to become a vampire? Felix never said explicitly but you figure he won’t just let you die of old age. So many unknowns for now but one thing you do know- you still wish you had that wine.

[thehauntedetheral]

Carlisle Cullen

• He is the epitome of gentle love.

• Always make sure you are comfortable and healthy.

• Will cook for you different kind of cuisines or whatever you like but while keeping a healthy balanced diet in mind.

• Will always cover you with an extra layer or his jacket in winter season.

• Whenever you both have some free time on your hands you both would cuddle and Carlisle reads the books to you in his soothing voice. It's just your thing. Away from world in each other's embrace reading.

• He will give you little kisses at any small chance he gets.

• If you fell sick even though it's a small flu. He will go all doctor mode, checking up on your health.

● Whenever Carlisle looks at you he thanks god for giving him such a lovely and precious person.

• Carlisle can't remember and he don't want to remember how did he lived hundreds of years without you. Because now just the thought of you not being with him causes his cold frozen heart pain.

• Doing acts of services is his main language.

• Will comb your hair while saying how beautiful you are, cook for you, helps you or more like does all the chores after all vampire speed comes in handy.

• Will braid your hair, make braid crowns while you yap about "Do you know what happened today?"

"Tell me " Carlisle will say while braiding or playing with your hairs.

• Is a total gentleman. Since you started dating him you have never opened a door because he always open doors for you.

• Will gift you with diamonds or cars when there is a special occasion or sometimes will just gift you because being with you is a big occasion.

• Definitely has a praise kink. Will praise you and compliment you in bedroom and outside too. He loves how your cheeks heat up and a big smile lights up your face when he compliments you.

• Is definitely the most supportive man. You want to be stay at home? He will take care of you forever. You want to do job? Supports you in everyway he can.

• Makes you lunch for job while putting little love notes in it saying how much he loves you and is proud of you.

• You two always hug each other whenever you get a chance. It's your way of saying I love you or I missed you.

• You get flowers after every 2 - 3 days because this man just can't ever stop appreciating you.

• Handles jealousy maturely.

• You both lay in each other's arms and talk about everything and nothing all night till you fall asleep while Carlisle just embraces you tight and listen to your heartbeats like a lullaby.

• Is the most patient and calm man you ever met.

• whenever you are anxious or nervous or having a mental breakdown. He embraces you, rubs your shoulder, talks to you about the issue or your feelings. Makes you calm.

• You both are so perfectly synchronized with each other that the people close to you says you act like an married couple.

• Well it is soon to become reality. Because Carlisle already has a ring sitting in his pockets for days just waiting for the perfect moment to pop the question. And might I say while asking you the question this thousands of year old calm vampire who was nervous as hell while everyone was chill Because they obviously know you are gonna say yes.

• And yes the wedding gift from Carlisle will be an beautiful private island bought by him and named after you. Where you both are gonna spend a very good time.

For More Yandere Reading:

[maple-the-awesome]

The Chain Meets His Baby || 2/2

Part 1 ||

Pairing: Twilight, Warrior, Legend, Sky x Reader

Requested by @kieradumpzz081927: I hope your request are open(or if ur free for requests), so i saw ur LU oneshots about the one that is called ' He becames a dad ' or smth. So, why not that he would introduce his kid(s) to the chain? That ones going to be interesting Warning: Some mature jokes here and there. Nothing major, but gotta give the new dad a little hell, right? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Zelda Masterlist 🤍Fandom Masterlist

Six minutes and twenty seconds. That's how long you were able to relax before a series of knocks ruined your peace. Predictably, the sound is enough to echo throughout your small home followed by shrilling cries from the once silent cradle mere feet from your bedside. 

You could almost cry yourself, although you're able to hold in your frustrations thanks to the smoothing pat your husband gives your head before sighing heavily himself and sitting up from bed. All the two of you wanted was one second of sleep - one second to collapse in bed next to each other and rest your eyes which feel as if they haven't shut in weeks, but apparently, that's too much to ask of this universe.

After giving a quick kiss to your cheek (and smirking at your annoyed grumbling), Twilight slides off the bed and makes his way to the cradle. There, he skillfully sweeps the wiggling newborn into his arms, cooing the distressed baby loving as they make their way to the front door. Seeing as this precious child has only existed for a mere week, it can't really be too much of a surprise that your home has become a hotspot for visitors. Between the village children excitedly wanting to see their newest member and their parents stopping by to offer meals, advice, and all-around support, it seems your door is almost always open these days (not you truly mind one bit), although as it would turn out, your current company doesn't fall into the excepted categories. 

"What are you guys doing here?" Twilight suddenly doesn't feel so tired anymore once setting eyes upon the familiar group. They're all here - all eight of the heroes of courage; his treasured friends. This is, what, the third time his world has somehow crossed with theirs? This is really becoming a common pattern, isn't it, and for a split moment, Twilight feels a strike of fear at the thought of this being the start of yet another long, tiresome journey. Now!? He couldn't possibly leave now! What kind of partner and father would that make him? You need him here. He promised he'd be home for you, and for -

"- There's no danger, so don't fret. We've already investigated everything before coming here," Time, who must've read Twilight's worried expression, promptly explains things while failing to fall victim to the same jaw-dropped silence that strikes every other hero in the group as they all stare in astonishment at Twilight - or more accurately, the bothered baby huffing in his arms.

Instead of mocking surprise, Time’s eye casually drops to acknowledge the little one, his lips lifting into a pleasant smile, “...And this must be the famous pup I’ve heard so much about?”

“Wait, you knew?!” Sky gasps, everyone’s shocked attention snapping to the Old Man. He pays them no mind, too focused on his main priority of being the first to hold his great-great-something grandson who Twilight eagerly passes over.

“Ah!” The Rancher’s once worried expression changes like a switch, flashing away into an all-too excited grin. As has been common lately, having new company around immediately sparkles a rambling spiel fueled by his flooding avidity (which has impressively failed to die down even with the exhaustion of early fatherhood), “I was gonna send letters to y’all - it just slipped my mind. These past few days have been a bit chaotic while getting all adjusted. Yep, this one’s mine - lil’ Lupin. He’s officially four days old, born at 10:14 in the morning at a healthy 7.6 pounds -”

“- You’re gonna have to write all that down for any of us to remember it,” Wild rolls his eyes, although it’s in good spirit as he peeks at the tiny baby with a small smile. It doesn’t take the other boys long to notice that, like Time, their Champion doesn’t seem too surprised by this situation either, looking at the newborn with only a little bit more interest than he would a cute puppy.

“I take it you knew, too, then?” Four quizzes.

“He kept hinting towards it at first until I finally gave in and asked. I didn’t know when to expect them to be here, though.”

“It’s been nine months since then,” Twilight points out teasingly, causing Wild to huff and throw his hands up in the air defensively. 

“How should I know how long they take to bake! Besides, judging by the way you practically sent me a whole novel about how excited you were, I figured it was only going to be a matter of weeks, maybe a few months by that point. How in Hylia’s name did you stand to be like that for nine?”

“I barely did! It was hell having to be that patience, anyone here could tell you…but Lupin’s here now and definitely worth the wait, I’d say,” Twilight sighs dramatically, looking lovingly at his son who by now has settled peacefully in the comfort of Time’s arms, no longer squirming and fussing. To be fair, his ancestor does have quite a bit of practice juggling twins at this point. One is nothing.

“He’s a beautiful baby, that’s for sure,” Time chuckles, at last taking his eyes away from his newest family member, “You did good, cub.” 

Twilight preens at his mentor’s compliment, “Isn’t he? I’ve been around other babies before, but having one of my very own…It just hits different, ya’ know? …I actually wouldn’t mind a couple more -”

“- Don’t push your luck, mister,” On cue, you appear from around the corner, tiredly rubbing your eyes yet managing a smile to greet the rest of the Chain, "You weren't the one who had to go through nine months of heartburn followed by hours of torture.”

“- Eventually. I wouldn't mind a couple more ‘eventually’,” Twilight clarifies, quick to hook his arm around your waist and pull you against himself the second you’re close enough, “Besides, you handled it like a queen.”

You roll your eyes while resting your head against his shoulder, “Flattery won’t get you anywhere different.”

“That’s not what you said nine months ago~” Twilight smirks, pressing a kiss to your forehead only to earn himself a swat against the head.

Warrior originally elected to ignore the heavy knocking at his front door which threatened his peaceful morning's silence. Whatever this kingdom demands of him, they can simply add it to his tab. He's comfortable in bed where it's warm and you're snuggled in his arms, looking as beautiful as ever with a mess of bedhead and matching dark circles under your eyes. Best of all? Your son has achieved a new record of sleeping for three straight hours - THREE! 

Now, Warrior is relatively used to less-than-ideal sleep schedules as a hero and captain, so having a newborn around hasn't quite hit him with the same force as it might a typical man, but that doesn't mean either of you are going to be ungrateful towards this new parenting milestone. No, you were planning on taking full advantage of it actually, wanting nothing more than to spend a lazy morning in bed until your little monster inevitably awakes...however, it seems the universe always has other plans.

The knocking only grows more frequent and loud, drawing a groan from your fiancé who finally relents. Pushing himself out of bed, he reluctantly answers the door without much effort put into hiding his annoyed expression - that is until it naturally snaps into one of mild shock and excitement at the sight of his visitors. Instead of it being someone from the Castle or military, he's pleasantly surprised to find his old traveling companions, the other heroes of courage.

"What are you all doing here?" He suddenly doesn't feel so tired anymore, in fact he’s stricken with more life and a bright smile while gazing over the group to count each familiar face. Yep, they're all here - all eight of them. It's been so long! Well, maybe not that long. It hasn't even been a full year yet since visiting Twilight's family together, but that's still plenty of time to miss old friends.

"Well, some of us have been talking lately and we thought, why not put some time aside from our busy lives to have a little get together - just us heroes, for old times’ sake!” Wild announces enthusiastically, practically inviting himself inside, not that Warrior stops him or any of the others for that matter.

“It could be a little tradition of ours. Once a year, type of thing,” Sky explains more professionally, although he isn’t any less excited than the Champion. 

"A nice boy's trip to save you from the misses," Legend rephrases, elbowing the Captain’s side with a wink while passing by.

Warrior will admit: it is an intriguing proposal - getting away from the stresses of a hero to spend quality time with brothers who understand your woes. If only the Chain had visited a few months earlier, he’d be willing to entertain such a trip, but alas, he must give them a sympathetic smile instead, “As much fun as that sounds, I’m afraid I won’t be able to join you. At least not this time around.”

Immediately, the group’s uplifted smiles drop into disappointed frowns emphasized by a chorus of dejected groans. 

"You knights and all your fancy work kissing the royal family’s ass," Legend huffs, and Warrior was just about to bite back on that comment with a jab of his own, however their conversation is suddenly interrupted. 

A piercing cry catches the entire Chain off guard, many of the boys looking around wildly for the possible threat while others - namely Time and Twilight - are jolted by that familiar protective instinct they know all too well of from their own home lives.

“Actually, there’s another reason,” Warrior doesn’t hide his amusement towards everyone’s reactions nor does he hide his tired sigh once realizing his free trial of peace-and-quiet has ended. 

He doesn’t even make it to the doorway before you appear, already rocking the baby gently in your arms. It takes some fussing from both of you to smooth his tears, calming him down just long enough for Warrior to turn back to his friends while proudly gesturing to the newborn in your arms, “Well, allow us to introduce our son, Einar.”

From there, it takes mere seconds for the Chain to snap out of it and instantly crowd you both, each fighting to get a good look at this ‘son’ in question.

“Since when did you guys have a kid?!” Hyrule awes.

“He’s so little…He can’t be that old, right?” Sky gasps.

“Only a few weeks, I reckon,” Time observes calmly from the back, tall enough to simply gaze over the sea of shoulders and heads. 

“Hey, move out of the way! I can’t see! I wanna see, too!” Wind whines, shrugging to push his way through the barrier of bodies.

Twilight, steps back from the chaos to throw a playful smirk Warrior’s way, “Here I thought you were waiting for kids.”

“Us too,” You roll your eyes.

“Life happens,” Your partner merely shrugs, not even attempting to act ashamed of himself as he accepts responsibility of holding Einar while you excuse yourself to prepare a bottle once he starts whimpering again, “But we wouldn’t trade him for the world.”

“Geeze, you’re all getting old on us,” Legend mocks, eyeing Warrior, Time, and Twilight, “Not even three years ago, the Old Man was the only one of us in a committed relationship, now all three of you are suddenly tied down with children!”

“Don’t go sounding too jealous, Vet. I’m sure you’ll have your turn someday,” Warrior smirks, resulting in the other hero sticking out his tongue in disgust.

“As if. Me? A dad? You sure the world should be subjected to that?”

“Right. You might actually be doing everyone a favor by not reproducing.”

“Oh fuck off -”

“- Shh! Not in front of the baby!”

“I, for one, wouldn’t mind being a dad one day. It seems like a lot of fun,” Sky, coos, letting little Einar play with his finger, “If you ever need a babysitter, just let me know.”

"Careful. We might end up taking you up on that offer with how little we've been sleeping lately."

"Get accustomed to it, my friend, because it doesn't go away anytime soon," Time advises with a pat to the back, failing to hide the mirth filtering his voice as the new father sighs exasperatedly.

Legend isn’t usually the type to delight himself with hosting guests, nor is he much of an initiator when it comes to any sort of social interaction, so suffice to say, the Chain was rather thrown to have received unprompted invites to visit his world and home. Why the sudden open door? He gave no explanation, leaving all of the boys guessing, although Time has a few notable theories swirling in mind.

It all goes back to months ago when Legend had unexpectedly appeared at Lon Lon Ranch, claiming to have simply ‘been in the area’, yet Time knew better than to believe that. An experienced man like himself immediately took notice of his friend’s frazzled and irritable mood, such a state of dishevelment hinting towards one thing: problems at home - problems likely relating to you, to be exact, seeing as your boyfriend was swift to avoid any mention of your name when prompted.

Realizing that prying would be ineffective against someone so notorious for his emotional barriers, Time had allowed Legend to stay with him and his family without question. He, of course, kept a close eye on the young man, trying to deduce the situation the best he could from all those frustrated grumbles while working chores and pitiful sighs as the two sat together on the back porch after dinner. 

It was then that Legend had taken the moment to ask Time a rather odd question that had admittedly hung in the Old Man’s head for days afterwards along with a curious conclusion as to the true reason behind his sudden visit, however nothing more was said that night beyond some wisely woven words soaked in hidden meaning.

By morning, the veteran hero was visibly relaxed when quietly expressing his plans to return home to you. Clearly, whatever troubles that once plagued his mind had been resolved following a day of reflection and a goodnight’s sleep, so Time felt confident sending Legend back on his way with a wish of luck and an offer to return whenever needed.

Perhaps that incident and this friendly invite are unrelated, after all, it’s been months between the two, although Time can’t help but wonder, the memory of Legend’s question being of particular interest as the Chain approaches their destination. 

Some of the boys share their concerns along the way, a bit unsettled by the thought of Legend wanting to see them. Warrior even suggests the possibility of their friend having gone through a bad break-up, insisting there’s logic behind his guess since losing you would be the Vet’s lowest point, the extreme heartache being enough for him to abandon all stubbornness and reach out to the Chain for moral support. Arguments deemed his theory outlandish, however when Legend opens his front door to greet them, the boys begin to worry Warrior might indeed be a good prophet…

“It took you all long enough,” He huffs, his voice worn and scratchy which really sends home his obvious lack of sleep when paired with his unkempt appearance; heavy bags under his eyes and shaggy hair that stands up on all ends, “Come in, come in…”

‘Oh Hylia!’ The Chain thinks, sorrow for their friend already sinking into their bones as they illy prepare themselves for a story of true despair. Yes, Legend can be difficult and stubborn at times, and maybe you had your reasons, but surely he couldn’t have messed up bad enough to warrant you leaving him! Hasn’t the poor guy already been through enough?

“...Hey man, you doing alright?” Warrior was just about to rip the bandage off, his hand placed supportively upon his friend’s shoulder which earned him a sleepy look that falls sort of its intended glare, however before he can get any reply -

“- BABY!” Wind’s gasp pierces ears and makes several of the others leap in their skin. Indeed, if following the youngest hero’s excited point, it'll lead to where you stand in the doorway with an amused (that be it tired) chuckle…So, you didn’t leave after all? You’re still here, looking as rough as your partner which is probably excusable since in your arms is, in fact, a new baby.

“Hello everyone. I’m glad you could all make it.”

“...Oh thank Hylia you didn’t leave him!”

“What -?” Legend raises an eyebrow at Warrior’s dramatic sigh, yet he doesn’t get much of a chance to be offended. No one would notice anyway, their attention having swiftly abandoned their dear old friend in exchange for you and the baby you introduce.

“His name is Liron,” You note, earning a chorus of awes as the sweet little bundle scrunches his tiny face in displeasure towards the disruption to his peaceful sleep; already, he looks so much like his dad.

“So this is why you invited us over, huh?” Hyrule glances back over the sea of shoulders to send Legend an amused smile, “We thought something bad might’ve happened!”

“We wanted it to be a surprise…” The Vet sighs, unable to stay mad at the group’s energy, after all they have every right to be amazed. His son is pretty damn beautiful. 

“Well, I’ll be darn. You gotta kid now,” Twilight smirks, even going as far as to elbow Legend’s side which, as always, packs more strength than probably intended, “And after all that hell you gave us!”

“Yeah, yeah, karma's a bitch. Laugh it up - HEY! Wash your hands first!” Legend’s focus is immediately diverted from rubbing his sore ribs to pointing an accusing finger at Wild who’s stopped mid-reach from taking the baby you pass towards him.

"I did!" The Champion gasps in offense.

“Not here you didn’t. Do it again! Sinks in the kitchen!”

Wild grumbles, forced to forfeit his turn in holding the baby. A glare is all it takes for Hyrule to follow him shamefully as well, allowing Time to be the first to actually hold the little one since his hands successfully pass cleanliness approval. Nevertheless, despite his spotless palms and seasoned experience as a father himself, the older hero must put up with Legend's paranoid hovering which isn't too unlike a hawk's, ready to snatch back his baby at a second's notice if deeming the situation to be too ‘unsafe’. Fortunately, Time's nice enough not to mention this behavior beyond a silent smirk.

“...What went through your head when you realized you were going to be a dad?”

Now Legend’s question - as random as it had seemed those many months ago - makes complete sense. The timid whisper that spoke it, the nervous avoidance of any eye contact, and that deep, thoughtful frown while listening to Time’s honest answer - all signs that pointed towards a worried father-to-be desperate for direction as he fought to keep his own insecurities and fears at bay.

At least Time can finally rest easy knowing their past conversation did some good for his friend. The young man may be fidgeting while impatiently watching his new child be passed around the group for each to see, your gently hand upon his shoulder only doing so much to relax his anxieties. You’re also both beyond tired, fitting to Time’s warning that parenthood is by far the most difficult journey one can ever take, yet there’s a switch of softness that overtakes Legend’s expression the second your son begins to mumble his disapproval, apparently fed up with all this attention that he’s receiving. 

In an instant, Legend’s there, stealing back the small infant and clumsily doing his best to smooth such sharp cries. Yes, it’s difficult and nerve wracking to become a parent, especially for the first time, but to see all of your efforts throughout the years take form into such a beautiful and amazing being of pure innocence…that’s the most rewarding adventure yet, something Legend’s clearly already beginning to realize himself. 

Sky's been practically bursting at the seams all day - well, all week, to be more accurate - but today is especially special since you’re both expecting a visit from some of his closest friends, the other heroes of courage who haven’t been by Skyloft in far too long.

Seeing as their reunion has been so long overdue, it should be no surprise that your dear husband has been bubbling with eager anticipation all morning (long before the sun had even risen thanks to your shared lack of a proper sleep schedule). While he does genuinely miss his old traveling companions, a majority of his restlessness comes from wanting to share some exciting news about a recent ‘development’ in your lives, one he’s had to hold himself back from spoiling in their routine letters (which are shared far more often than in-person visits).

Before you can even process the knock at your front door, Sky is already darting across the room to answer it, matching the delighted smile worn by all the other boys. He eagerly ushers them inside, his impatience finally spilling over by this point, something he can’t help. As already mentioned, he’s been waiting for this moment for quite a while - and has dreamed about for far longer than a simple ‘while’. 

You can only chuckle at how quickly you’re swarmed by curious eyes, the other heroes not hesitating to stand and kneel around your chair just to catch a glimpse of the tiny bundle you cradle. To say it took them off guard would be the understatement of a century. It completely knocked them off their feet to realize what you're holding and what Sky’s excitement has been all about!

It’s a baby - a tiny newborn with puffy cheeks and itty-bitty hands balled into fists! She doesn’t even look real, or perhaps this whole situation itself just doesn’t feel real. In the Chain’s defense, it’s been years since Sky and you announced your intentions of starting a family of your own. Unfortunately, your struggles in achieving this goal became no secret, and your friends had begun to slowly lose hope with you. They truly worried the day might never come which explains their complete awe now. 

“Her name’s Azure,” You tell them, wiping away the tears that bubble in the corners of your eyes. Curse these hormones! Your daughter is already a few days old yet you still cry each time you see another’s reaction to her. Can you be blamed? It only solidifies the reality that this is, in fact, your baby. Sky and you are officially parents!

“Congratulations, man!” Warrior throws an arm over your husband’s shoulder and pulls him close into a side hug, “You’ve earned it!”

Sky shares his laughter with a shake of his head, his eyes immediately drifting to yours, “My wife deserves most of the credit. She’s the one who endured all those long and tiresome months to get little Azure here.”

“And you took amazing care of us both throughout every second,” You point out just as quickly with a gentle smile, “I couldn’t have asked for a better partner to go through this with.”

“Now we’ll have to start planning some playdates with all our kids. Let ‘em tire each other out,” Twilight points out, giving Sky’s other side a nudge with his elbow.

“Maybe being around Azure will get Hope to stop asking for a sibling for a while,” Hyrule sighs exhaustively. 

“Yeah, no, that has the exact opposite effect. Trust me,” Legend huffs with crossed arms.

Wind’s hand pops out from somewhere in the back of the crowd, only seen as he eagerly tries to jump up and down to gain attention, “Oh-Oh, Tetra and I can babysit if you ever need it!”

“I didn’t think she even liked kids?”

“She ‘likes’ kids, she just doesn’t like being ‘around’ them,” Wind rolls his eyes at Legend’s comment as if the reason isn’t obvious, “But she said she’s been wanting to get better with them to practice the whole ‘being a nice princess’ thing -”

“- All of that can come later,” Time swiftly interrupts the wandering conversation, “I’m sure as new parents, these two would appreciate rest above all else for now. There’ll be plenty of time for playdates later down the line.”

“We’ll definitely set some up once Azure is old enough,” Sky chuckles in agreement before kneeling by your side to help fix the blanket around your sleeping daughter. Although there’s quite a bit of time until then, the idea of finally being able to participate in such arrangements is exciting to you both. No more standing on the sidelines feeling out of place with your hearts’ yearning. You’ll finally be able to share the joy all of your friends feel.

“You both look like happy parents. Congratulations,” You preen at Time’s compliment, looking to each other through tears in your eyes which then drop to Azure who snuggles closer to you, blissfully unaware of the effect she already has on your hearts as she merely enjoys the comfort of your loving embrace. Your most special treasure, indeed…

[cowboybeepboop]

Sheriff

"I want you, Y/N."

Pairing: Charlie Swan x fem! Reader 

Genre: Smut

Word count: 3.6k 

Summary: Your car breaks down and the friendly sheriff comes to your rescue.

a/n: Guys please 🙏 send any twilight requests you have my way, I’m so desperate to write more 

You were currently on a road trip, alone, going from Oregon to well, anywhere really. Your car begins to stutter as you drive through the night. You pull your car over on the side of the road, your heart rate slowly rising in frustration. 

You take a deep breath, mentally counting to ten, you remind yourself that there's nothing you can do about it right now, you just have to accept that your car has broken down and that you're stranded in the middle of nowhere, you don't even recognize where you are. 

You look around, taking in your surroundings, your gaze falling on a sign that reads "Forks, Washington," located a few kilometers down ahead.

As you dial the number for the sheriff of that area, your heart continues to race anxiously. With every additional ring, the worry inside you seems to intensify, it felt like an eternity before someone picked up on the other end of the line. The line clicks as the call connects. You hear a deep, gruff voice come through the phone, "Forks Sheriff's office."

“Hello… My name is Y/N, uh, I’m not sure where I am but my car just broke down. It’s really dark,” you quickly ramble into the phone, eyes wandering the surrounding area. 

The voice on the other end of the phone responds calmly, "Hello Y/N, this is Charlie Swan, the Sheriff. Can you tell me where you're currently located?" The Sheriff, Charlie, seems to have a gentle and steady tone, attempting to help you as he inquires for more information about where you are stranded.

"Well, I'm next to the 'Welcome to Forks' sign.." you reply, the gentle tone from the sheriff helping to calm your nerves. 

"Okay," the sheriff responds firmly, his tone conveying a sense of reassurance, "Just stay where you are, I'll be there soon." There's a sense of comfort in the assurance that the sheriff is on his way. 

There's a brief moment of silence after the phone call ends, and you take a few calming breaths, trying to steady yourself amidst the darkness. Shortly afterward, you notice the headlights of a police cruiser approaching on the road in the distance, the patrol car getting closer until it pulls up behind your stranded vehicle.

Charlie, the sheriff, steps out of the vehicle, his presence is undeniably commanding yet somehow soothing, the stern expression on his face is replaced by a slight smile as he walks over to your car.

Unlocking the door you cautiously step out into the cool night air, gaze meeting the sheriffs. Charlie steps closer to you, the smile still on his face as he takes in your worried expression, 

"Y/N?" he asks, his tone carrying a hint of recognition for the voice he spoke to on the phone. 

He walks toward you, his steps measured and calculated, his tall stature towering over you as he steps closer. A small smile still on his face, he looks you over, inspecting your car, he asks inquisitively, "Car trouble?"

"Mhm, I'm not too sure what happened.." you sigh, watching as he comes to inspect the hood. You sneakily check him out, noticing how the night casts gentle shadows over his features. 

Charlie leans down over the hood, his eyes studying the engine with focused attention. He gives a few knocks on the engine and tries to look around inside as much as he can, his face becoming slightly grim as he starts to examine the issue.

He straightens himself up, closing the hood gently, before turning to you. His voice is calm and steady, "Well, looks like we've got some real trouble here. Engine seems to be overheating."

"I don't know much about cars..." you murmur, stepping closer to him and holding your coat tight around you

Charlie notices your closeness, and he instinctively reaches out, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder to keep you warm. He looks at you, a hint of a smile on his face as he replies, "Well, that's alright, not everyone needs to be a mechanic."

He glances at your car once more and sighs, "Overheating is a pretty common issue, it happens when your engine gets too hot to function properly. Based on the look of things, you won't be going anywhere anytime soon."

Your cheeks flush with his gentle touch, immediately craving more of his warm body. "I see, is there a motel or someplace I can stay for the night? Until I get this checked out?"

Charlie's eyes fall on yours, observing your blush with a hint of curiosity. He notices your desire for warmth but doesn't say anything.

He nods as you mention finding a place for the night and replies, "Yes, there are a couple of motels nearby, but they're not the most...pleasant, to say the least."

He studies your face again and his expression softens a bit as he continues, "You can stay at my place for the night. I have a guest room you can use."

Your blush deepens, the strong musk of his cologne sending your mind to inappropriate places. "Your place? Are you sure?"

Charlie looks at you, noticing your blushing getting even more noticeable, making him raise his eyebrows a bit. He smiles gently and says in a reassuring voice, "Yeah, my place. It's a lot more comfortable than any motel around here anyway. And I don't mind, really."

There's a hint of something in his voice, a subtle intensity that can't quite be explained. He looks at you again, making sure you're up for the idea.

"Alright, that sounds amazing." you grin, flashing him your pearly whites as you take a half step closer to him. "A warm cozy house, a soft mattress.. sounds like heaven." 

Charlie notices your movements, the way you step closer to him, and he can't help but chuckle softly. Seeing your toothy grin makes his heart skip a beat, the sound of your voice sending a shiver down his spine.

He responds with a smirk, "Oh, you flatter me. Now, let's get your things out of the car and head over there."

He motions for you to open the trunk, letting you help him carry your belongings to his patrol car. As you both move your belongings to his cruiser, Charlie can't help but sneak glances at you, noticing the way your skin glows in the pale moonlight. 

He holds open the passenger door of his car for you, his hand lingering for an extra second as you get in. He then walks around to the driver's side and settles in, starting up the engine. The silence in the car feels heavier than usual, the air filled with a mixture of uncertainty and anticipation.

"Thank you, Charlie," The warmth of the car causes you to relax into the plush seats. 

As you express your gratitude, a wave of genuine honesty comes over Charlie, his grip on the steering wheel loosening and his shoulders relaxing. He glances at you, noticing your relaxed state in the passenger seat.

His voice, low and sultry, responds, "No problem, Y/N. I'm glad to be able to help." He glances at you, his eyes lingering on your form, appreciating the sight of you in the warm glow of the car.

His voice is seductive, sending shivers down your spine and causing you to clench your legs together. You try to distract yourself, fumbling with the hem of your sweater as you stare out the window, heart pounding loudly in your ears. 

Charlie can practically feel the tension growing in the air as he continues to drive, the sound of your heart beating faster does not escape his ear. He steals a glance at you, noting your restless fiddling with the hem of your sweater.

His mind begins to wander and he silently wonders about the effect he's having on you. He decides to test the waters a bit, clearing his throat and saying, "You look a little cold there."

"Oh, uhm, just a little." your voice cracks slightly as you turn to look at him once again. 

Charlie smiles at the sound of your cracking voice, feeling almost amused at the way you respond. He keeps his gaze on the road ahead of him, but he notices the way your eyes meet his as you speak to him.

He decides to push further, reaching over to turn up the heat in the car. As he does so, his hand brushes lightly against your knee, a subtle but deliberate action designed to get a reaction from you.

You jump slightly, a soft surprised noise escaping your plush lips. Charlie grins at the sound of your startled gasp, his mind racing with intrigue and curiosity. He notices the way your body jerks at his touch, and he can't help but feel a rush of excitement go through him.

His hand continues to linger on your knee, his thumb gently rubbing small, almost soothing circles into your skin. "Sorry," he murmurs, his voice carrying a hint of playful innocence, "Didn't mean to startle you."

"It's.. okay.." you murmur, eyes focused on the way his finger moves against your skin. The short drive comes to an end as he pulls into the driveway of his house, you bite down on your bottom lip in anticipation as you wait for his next move.

Charlie notices the way you bite down on your bottom lip, his vision fixated on the way your teeth indent your lip. He can't help but think about how badly he wants to pull that lip between his own teeth and taste it for himself.

He parks the cruiser in the driveway and clears his throat, his mind trying to push down the thoughts of your lips. He looks at you, his eyes full of desire, as he says in a slightly hoarse voice, "We're here."

"Okay, shall we go inside?" You click the seatbelt, letting it fall back, turning at the waist to face him.

Charlie quickly notices the movement of your waist, his eyes briefly falling on the way your body shifts to face him. He lets out a low breath, trying to calm himself down, before replying, "Yeah, let's get inside."

He gets out of the car and walks around to your side, holding open the door for you. As you step out, he can't help but let his hand graze over your waist, a brief but purposeful touch.

"You're very gentlemanly," you giggle as he leads you to the door, your bags in hand. "Thank you again, Charlie."

Charlie chuckles softly as you mention his gentlemanly demeanor, feeling amused at the way you respond to him. He unlocks the front door and holds it open for you, gesturing for you to go inside first.

As you step inside, he follows closely behind, placing a hand on the small of your back, and guiding you further into the house. He responds, his voice warm and genuine, "No problem, Y/N, I'm glad I could help."

Charlie notices you leaning into his touch, your body molding into his, and his mind is flooded with thoughts of how badly he wants to wrap his arms around you. He can feel the heat radiating off your body, and it's driving him crazy.

He stops for a moment, his hand still on your back, and looks down at you, his voice soft and husky as he says, "Make yourself at home. Can I get you anything?"

"Could I please get a glass of water?" your tone is soft as he sets your bags next to the door, watching as his muscles flex from underneath his uniform. 

Charlie nods at your request, his mind briefly distracted by the way you speak to him in that soft voice. He feels your gaze on his muscular arms and chest, and he can't deny that it makes him feel a little more self-conscious.

He walks over to the kitchen, retrieving a glass and filling it with cold water from the tap. He returns to where you stand and hands you the water, his fingers brushing against yours as he does so.

You slip out of your sweater, revealing your skin-tight undershirt as you take a cautious seat on the couch, not wanting to get *too* comfortable.

As you shed your sweater, revealing the thin undershirt beneath, Charlie can't help but notice the way the material clings to your body, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he observes your every move. His eyes roam over your form, taking in the sight of your curves in the tight fabric, and he feels a wave of desire wash over him.

He watches as you gingerly sit on the couch, trying to maintain a sense of composure, and he wonders how much self-control he has left. He steps into the room, sitting next to you, and giving you a glass of cool water.

"Thank you," you murmur, sweetly smiling at him before taking a long sip of the drink. Your cleavage becomes more exposed to the man in front of you as you set the glass down, you lean back and relax on the couch. 

Charlie nearly chokes on his own saliva as he watches your cleavage become more exposed, his eyes fixed on the way the thin fabric clings to your skin, leaving practically nothing to the imagination. He swallows hard, trying to compose himself, but he can feel the tension in the air building between you both.

He shifts on the couch, trying to find a more comfortable position, as he replies, his voice huskier than before, "You're welcome."

"Are you married, sheriff?" You blurt out, heart racing as you contemplate trying to seduce the older man. 

Charlie is a little caught off guard by the sudden question, but he composes himself quickly. He gives a soft chuckle, leaning back on the couch and shaking his head.

He responds, his voice low and steady, "No, I'm not married." He looks at you, his eyes lingering on your exposed skin, and he can feel the tension and desire growing between you both.

You move closer to him, your hand falling to his thigh as you press your breasts against his arm. "A girlfriend?" you look at him through your lashes, gaze seductive as you admire his features in the new lighting.

Charlie feels the weight of your hand on his thigh, sparks shooting through his body at your touch. He can't help but let out a low breath as he feels your body pressed against his arm, the sight of your eyes looking up at him through your lashes is almost too much.

He maintains his composure, answering your question with a slightly hoarse voice, "No... no girlfriend." His eyes roam over your face, taking in every feature as he replies.

You lean forward, face mere inches from his. "Then... would you mind if I kiss you?" you slide onto his lap, gently letting your weight rest on him as your hands move to cup his face. 

Charlie is taken aback by your bold move, your body suddenly straddling his lap, the heat of your skin burning through the layers of his uniform. He can't help but let out a soft moan at the feeling of your weight on him, unable to control his own reaction to your touch.

He looks at you, his voice a low growl as he responds, "I don't mind at all." His hands come to grip your hips, steadying you on his lap as he awaits your next move.

Leaning forward you capture his lips in a gentle yet passionate kiss, hands moving to keep him close to you, hips rocking against his ever so slightly. 

Charlie responds immediately to your kiss, his lips meeting yours in a fierce yet tender embrace. He lets out a low moan as your hips start to rock against him, his hands gripping your hips even tighter, his fingers indenting your skin.

He pulls you closer to him, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips, seeking entrance to the heat of your mouth. His mind is clouded with desire, the taste and feel of you against him is driving him wild.

Your mouth opens for him, your body desperate for more of his touch, you moan at the feeling of his erection growing against your clothed cunt. 

​

With a deep, needy groan, Charlie's arms wrap around you, pulling you closer as your kiss deepens. His hands slip under your shirt, his calloused fingers skimming over the softness of your skin, making you quiver with anticipation. His mouth moves to your neck, kissing and sucking gently, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. 

You can feel his hardness pressing against you, and your own need is becoming unbearable. Your hands tangle in his hair as you rock your hips into him, seeking more friction. Charlie's grip on your hips tightens as he feels your body grinding into him, and he can no longer resist the temptation. 

His hand slides down to palm your ass, guiding you closer as he grinds back against you, his erection pulsing with desire. His kisses become more urgent, his teeth grazing your earlobe before capturing your ear with his lips, whispering, "I want you, Y/N."

You gasp as his teeth graze your earlobe, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. "I want you too, Charlie," you murmur, your breath hot against his neck as you kiss and nip at the sensitive skin there. The intensity of your passion builds as your hands explore his body, feeling the tension in his muscles as he responds to your touch. 

Encouraged by your confession, Charlie's hand moves from your ass to the hem of your shirt, deftly sliding it up and over your head, leaving you in only your bra and pants. He kisses down your neck, his warm breath causing goosebumps to form, as he gently unclips the back of your bra, letting it fall away to expose your full, round breasts to the cool air. 

He groans in appreciation, his eyes dark with desire as he cups them in his hands, thumbs flicking over your hardened nipples. Your back arches, pressing you into his touch as his mouth finds on the peak, suckling it with an intensity that has you gripping his shoulders tightly, a soft moan escaping your lips.

With a sudden surge of need, Charlie wraps his arms around your waist and effortlessly lifts you from the couch, carrying you down the hallway to his dimly lit bedroom. He sets you gently on the edge of the bed, his eyes never leaving yours as he starts to unbuckle his belt, the sound echoing in the quiet room.

He pulls his shirt over his head, revealing the well-defined muscles and tattoos that cover his torso, making your heart race even faster. You watch, mesmerized, as he unbuttons and pulls down his pants, his erection straining against his boxers.

With trembling hands, you help him remove the last of his clothing, revealing his rock-hard body to the cool air. He returns the favor, taking his time to remove your pants and panties, leaving you nude in front of him. His eyes drink in the sight of you, silent praise for the beauty laid before him.

With a gentle push, Charlie lays you back onto the bed, his eyes never leaving yours as he climbs over you, his body hovering just above yours. He kisses you softly, his mouth exploring yours with a passion that's tender yet fiery, his tongue dancing with yours as his hands continue to roam your body. You can feel the heat from his bare skin as he presses himself against you, his erection nestling between your thighs.

You wrap your legs around him, urging him closer, your hands exploring the firm planes of his back as he kisses down your body, leaving a trail of sweet kisses from your neck to your navel. His mouth finds your clit, his tongue flicking gently against the sensitive nub, making your back arch and your hips buck involuntarily.

He moves in a torturously slow rhythm, building your pleasure until you're panting for more, your nails digging into his shoulders as you beg for his cock. Charlie chuckles against your skin, the vibration sending waves of pleasure through your body. He kisses up your stomach, his eyes locked with yours as he positions himself at your entrance.

With one hand, he guides himself in, his eyes never leaving yours as he sinks into you inch by inch. You gasp as he fills you completely, the feeling of fullness making you whimper with need. He starts to move, his strokes deep and slow, drawing out every ounce of pleasure from your body.

Your hips match his rhythm, the slick sounds of skin on skin filling the room as you both give in to the passion consuming you. The tension builds, coiling tightly in your stomach, until it's almost too much to handle. With a final, powerful thrust, Charlie whispers your name against your ear, sending you over the edge into a climax that leaves you trembling and gasping for breath.

You cling to him as he follows suit, his warmth seeping into you as he releases his own passion, your bodies joined as one. After a moment, he collapses onto the bed beside you, pulling you into his embrace as you both catch your breath, the aftershocks of your shared pleasure still coursing through your veins.

[letterstoalonewolf]

Darlin’, Don’t You Know

Jasper Hale  x Reader

Summary: She didn’t mean to fall for him. But with his hands made for gentleness, his Southern drawl wrapping around every word like silk, and his old-fashioned chivalry that made her heart ache in the best way, how could she ever stand a chance?

It started the way most trouble does — innocently enough.

Y/n hadn’t paid much attention to the Cullens when she first moved to Forks. Sure, they were beautiful in a way that felt unnatural, and there were whispers that followed them through the halls — rumors that stuck like gum under desks, impossible to scrape away. But they existed on a plane outside of hers. Perfect, untouchable, unbothered.

Until Jasper Hale touched her.

It was stupid, really — her pen rolling off the edge of the Biology table, clattering to the floor between them. She reached down, fingers brushing cool metal at the same time his hand did. His skin was cold, his fingers long and careful as they nudged the pen into her hand.

“Here you go, darlin’.”

That was the first time she heard it — that slow, Southern drawl rolling over the word darlin’ like it belonged to her and only her. It wasn’t fair, the way her heart stuttered. Just a word, and she was wrecked.

She barely choked out a thank you. He smiled, barely-there, and went back to taking notes like nothing had happened.

But something had happened. She knew it. And so did he.

It didn’t take long to notice the pattern.

────────

Jasper was always there. Waiting by her locker, his shoulder against the wall, eyes flicking to her every time someone passed too close. At first, she thought it was coincidence — Forks High wasn’t exactly big. But then he started carrying her books.

And her bag.

And once, her entire backpack, slinging it over his shoulder like it weighed nothing.

“Jasper,” she protested, following after him. “I’m not helpless, you know.”

“Never said you were,” he drawled. “But you’re still not carryin’ this.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’ve got me, darlin’. That’s why.”

It would’ve been maddening — if not for the way he said it. Like being hers was the simplest truth in the world. Like it was fact, undeniable and already written in stone.

So she fought back the only way she knew how.

Teasing.

She made a playlist — the cheesiest, most over-the-top country love songs she could find. She played them whenever he got in her truck, smiling sweetly when his brow lifted in amusement.

“Cowboy,” she started calling him, soft and teasing, every time he opened a door or carried her bag like some 1800s ranch hand.

And every time, his lips twitched, no matter how hard he tried not to smile.

But teasing wasn’t the only thing between them.

There was something else, heavy in the air whenever they stood too close — something electric, like standing barefoot on the edge of a summer storm. Sometimes she’d catch him watching her, gaze soft, something unspoken trapped behind his careful expression.

One afternoon, he opened the passenger door for her — like always — but this time, his fingers brushed her wrist. Barely a touch.

Y/n’s pulse leapt, heart fluttering wildly against her ribs. His gaze dropped to her hand, lingering for a beat too long before he pulled back.

“Thank you,” she whispered, voice softer than she meant.

“Anytime, darlin’.”

And that was the moment she knew: this wasn’t just a crush.

────────

Jasper knew before she did.

Knew the moment her scent curled around him in the cafeteria, warm and right in a way nothing else had ever been. His mate.

It was a quiet kind of devastation — the knowledge that after so many years of silence and restraint, the universe had tethered him to something so soft, so fleeting. A heartbeat wrapped in fragile skin, a life that could be snuffed out before he even had the chance to hold it properly in his hands.

He wasn’t supposed to have this. Not after everything he’d done.

For decades, he’d mastered control. His body was a fortress, his hunger chained in the basement of his mind, barred behind iron gates and constant vigilance. Every breath was measured, every interaction scripted — proximity without connection, conversation without vulnerability. The only way to survive eternity was to become stone — unmoved, unshaken, untouchable.

But this? This wasn’t something he could outthink or outfight.

The moment her scent filled his lungs, it broke him open. That fortress he’d spent lifetimes building shattered like thin glass, and in its place was something ancient — something older than hunger, older than pain. Instinct. Bone-deep and undeniable.

Protect her. Shield her. Carry her burdens so she’d never have to feel them.

His mate. His darlin’.

He’d never deserved a word like that. Not with blood under his fingernails and ghosts lining the halls of his memory like mourners at a funeral. But fate had never asked if he was ready. Fate had only given him her — warm and laughing and alive in ways he no longer knew how to be.

So he tried to stay away.

Tried to ignore the ache that curled low in his ribs every time her laugh rang out across the hall, the sharp tug in his chest whenever someone brushed too close to her shoulder, the unbearable craving for her scent when she wasn’t near.

It lasted less than 48 hours.

Because for all his discipline, for all his centuries of restraint, Jasper Hale was still a man — and when fate gives a dying man something to live for, he doesn’t walk away.

He can’t.

────────

They found their rhythm somewhere between teasing and tenderness.

He opened every door. Carried every bag — even the light ones, even the ones she could’ve easily managed herself. He never asked if she needed him to. He just did it, like it was a reflex written into his bones.

She called him cowboy with a grin that could bring him to his knees. Played George Strait and Dolly Parton and Tim McGraw every chance she got, spinning the volume knob just to see him roll his eyes — but no matter how hard he tried, he always gave himself away. A soft hum under his breath. A quiet mouthing of lyrics he hadn’t meant to remember.

She teased him mercilessly for it, but her heart ached in that soft, fluttery way whenever she caught him slipping — her immortal cowboy, still tangled up in the boy he used to be.

It should’ve been simple. But love stories never are.

There were nights Jasper disappeared — no calls, no texts, just silence where his presence should’ve been. Y/n would sit by her window, phone in her lap, willing it to ring. It never did.

When he came back, his hands were colder than usual. His eyes darker, shadows clinging to him like smoke from a wildfire he couldn’t outrun. She never asked where he went. She could’ve. She could’ve demanded answers, pushed until he cracked wide open. But some part of her, the part that already knew this love was both beautiful and dangerous, understood that whatever haunted him wasn’t ready to be shared yet.

So instead, she held out her hand. And when he sat down beside her, she curled into his side, her cheek finding the familiar curve of his shoulder. She didn’t speak. She just breathed — slow, steady, until his breathing matched hers.

He always held her tighter on those nights, fingers curling into her shirt like an anchor, as if letting go might break something inside him that was already too fragile.

She never told him, but those were the nights she loved him most — not because he was perfect, but because he wasn’t. Because his hands shook when they touched her, because he was more shadow than light sometimes, and because even then, especially then, he still came back to her.

Every time.

────────

The first kiss happened at the edge of town.

The world felt smaller there, tucked beneath a sky too wide and too full of stars. The headlights were off, leaving only the silver hush of moonlight spilling through the windshield. The windows were cracked, and the night air was cool enough to bite, but neither of them noticed.

Her hand rested on the bench seat between them — palm up, fingers loose, close enough to touch but not quite daring to. It was a silent invitation, and Jasper’s gaze flicked to it more than once, fingers curling against his knee like he was fighting a war no one else could see.

The stereo hummed quietly, a country song neither of them had really been listening to — something slow and syrupy, the kind of love song that felt almost too much for a moment this delicate.

Jasper didn’t speak at first. He just watched her — the soft curve of her smile, the way her hair spilled over her shoulders, catching the faint light like strands of gold. The shadows softened her edges, turning her into something almost ethereal — more dream than girl, more wish than reality.

“You’re starin’ again, cowboy,” she teased, voice hushed but warm, like laughter was waiting just beneath the words.

“I know,” he said quietly, not even pretending to apologize.

He leaned in slowly, painfully slowly, his hand finally reaching to brush his knuckles over her jaw, tracing a path down to her chin. He held her there, thumb just beneath her lip, giving her every chance to pull away. To stop this before it became something they could never undo.

She didn’t.

Instead, she leaned into him, eyes half-lidded and breath already caught somewhere between her ribs. The kiss was barely there at first — a brush of his cool mouth against her warm one, a sigh into the space between them.

But even that soft touch made something inside her tremble.

Jasper kissed her like she was made of spun glass, fragile and fleeting, and far too precious to ever deserve his hands on her. His fingers ghosted along her jaw, curling into her hair, holding her like a man who knew how easily beautiful things could shatter.

Y/n didn’t let him stay gentle for long.

Her hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him closer — silently telling him there was no part of her that would break under his touch. Her body was warm against his chest, her heartbeat racing loud enough that he could feel it beneath his fingertips.

The kiss deepened, slow but desperate, as if each second was borrowed and they knew it. Jasper’s other hand skimmed down her spine, spreading wide at the small of her back, keeping her anchored to him. She could feel the tremor in his fingers, the way he fought to keep himself in check — holding back all the hunger, all the need.

It was too much and not enough, all at once.

He finally pulled back, forehead resting against hers, breath coming too fast for someone who didn’t need air.

“You kiss like you’re scared I’ll break,” she whispered, her smile soft but her voice unshaken.

Jasper swallowed hard, thumb tracing slow circles along her jawline, like he was memorizing the shape of her.

“I’m scared of a lot of things, darlin’.” His voice was rough, his accent heavier when emotion cracked through the spaces between the words. “But losin’ you? That scares me most.”

Y/n didn’t know what to say to that — so she kissed him again, softer this time, like a promise she wasn’t ready to put into words.

And for that moment, beneath the weight of a thousand stars, Jasper let himself believe that maybe, just maybe, this was something they could survive.

────────

It wasn’t perfect.

Loving Jasper meant loving his shadows too — the ghosts of wars he wouldn’t speak of, the hunger that lived under his skin. It meant letting him disappear into the woods when instincts got too sharp, and trusting he’d always come back.

Some nights, she traced the scars on his arms — faint, but there if you knew where to look.

“Do they hurt?” she asked once, fingertips ghosting over a particularly deep one.

“Not anymore.”

“Do you want to tell me how you got them?”

“Not tonight.”

She kissed each scar instead, her lips soft against old wounds.

“You’re too good for me,” he whispered.

“Too late, cowboy. You’re stuck with me.”

She left notes in his locker — doodles of stick-figure cowboys and bad jokes like Why did the cowboy adopt a dachshund? Because he wanted to get a long little doggy.

He groaned every time, but never threw them away. She caught him once, folding one into his wallet, his smile soft as honey.

“You’re ridiculous,” he said.

“And you love it.”

He didn’t argue.

They weren’t supposed to fit — a girl with her whole life ahead of her, and a boy whose life was already too long. But somehow, they did.

And maybe it was fate. Or maybe it was just this:

Jasper Hale was her cowboy.

Y/n was his darlin’.

And neither of them had any plans to let go.

[lis-likes-fics]

Contrition

Pairing: priest!Carlisle Cullen x Reader Word Count: 3.6k words Prompt: Priest Warnings: NSFW, smut, adultery, religious themes, bible scripture recitations, prayers, sacrilege, blasphemy, manipulation in the name of god, corruption(?), mentions of orgies, mentions of cuckholding, power imbalance, creampie, unprotected sex... A/N: Um...this was supposed to be under 1.5k words and it's the only reason all the others aren't the same. So uhh... enjoy this. I know I did, and we all know that we're all going to Hell anyway, but at least we'll see each other there. Thank you and happy reading! A/N #2: I shoulda posted this on Sunday! Aoeiguafdgoaefefd

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.”

Father Carlisle knows your voice. He would know that voice if he was standing in a shouting crowd, even if you were no more than a faint whisper. In his eyes, you are a white rose, so pure and innocent, but so easily stained by the horrors of this world, the sins of humanity.

He likes to think his hand is protecting you from it all. He likes to think his voice washes away the stains, leaving you as perfect as you were before.

Otherwise, he would be nothing more than a splash of red, leaving you forever spoiled.

He nods behind the partition of the confessional, bidding you to continue with his soft and soothing voice. “Carry on, my child. Tell me of your sins.”

Your voice is gentle, as though you are afraid of the church hearing your confession and damning you to an eternity in Hell. But no one is here. It is only you and him, alone in the comfort of this sacred ground.

“I taint my soul with the sin of…of lust,” your voice breaks at the end. Carlisle closes his eyes, imagining you sitting on the other side, playing with your fingers in an attempt to calm yourself. “I have…found myself struggling with impure thoughts.”

He tries his best not to let the thought of it get the better of him. He is a holy man, and you are here seeking atonement. He must keep his composure.

“Describe these thoughts to me,” he implores.

Your breath shudders. He imagines your thighs pressed together, seeking relief from the constant torment of your sins. “I…I have fantasies of…letting a man who is not my husband touch me. Do things to me that would forsake the Lord.”

Carlisle has to keep his eyes closed, and he clutches his rosary in his hand in an attempt to ease himself. “Tell me more.”

“Father?”

Your voice is so gentle. How is he supposed to resist such a beautiful thing? He sometimes thinks you may not be a rose, that you may be a snake coming to tempt him, to drag him to Hell yourself.

“I cannot absolve you of your sins if I do not know the exact nature of them,” he reasons. He convinces himself it is not a lie. At least then he relieves himself of the guilt of further corruption.

You nod. That seems to make sense to you. After all, what reason has he to lie?

“Um…” It takes a moment for you to find your voice. “I-I imagine being pinned down while…while a man takes me. Sometimes I imagine…being taken by more than one man at once…while my husband watches.”

Imprints of his black rosary bury themselves into Carlisle’s hands. Your corruption runs deep. You must be drowning in your own lustful desires right now, and he finds himself tempted to drown with you.

“And…” your breath shudders, “sometimes I imagine you.” You drop your head into your hands, and tears begin to stain your cheeks. “Forgive me, Father. I feel like the Devil has taken my soul,” you cry. “He has tainted it, and he is attempting to turn my soul against yours. I do not know why these thoughts plague me.”

Fantasies of his hands on you choke you in the middle of his sermons. You think of his hands on your waist, on your thighs. You think of him spreading you apart and burying his face between your legs, tasting you like a man to a barrel of wine. You think of his fingers thrusting in and out of your heat while all you do is gasp and moan. You think of him bending you over the altar and taking you, fast and rough as he leaves bruises on your skin that will not go away.

Carlisle has to take a breath, his throat burning with the idea of your lust. He has to clear his mind as similar thoughts threaten to destroy him. He has prayed so many times for God to cleanse his soul of his own sins, and each time, it comes back with a raging fire.

Do not desire her beauty in your heart, and do not let her capture you with her eyelashes…

“You need not to fear, your cries shall not go to waste, child,” he says. His voice alone soothes you, washes over you like a wave of calm. “You remember what the Bible says? ‘When the righteous cry for help, the Lord hears and delivers them out of all their troubles.’”

“What should I do, Father?” you plead, turning toward the partition to hardly make out the silhouette of him.

“I worry for your soul,” he admits with a sigh. “If what you describe to me is true, then it may be that the Devil is trying to latch onto your poor soul. Whether or not you have acted upon these desires, the mere thought of such things is already an act of adultery, and your sins shall continue to way upon you until you have atoned.”

Your voice is watery, full of tears that spill slowly down your cheeks. “What should I do?” you repeat, desperate for a resolve, to find yourself walking back in the path of righteousness.

Carlisle has to loosen his grip on his rosary, the pain of such a tight grasp stinging his palm.

“Your sins are great and many,” he begins, “so your atonement shall call for a heavy price.”

He can see you nod quickly through the shape of you behind the partition. “Anything. I will do anything to be pure again, Father.”

He nods. “There is a way to purify you once more. But the method is extreme.” He lets out a breath, feeling it tight in his throat.

“Anything,” you repeat.

“Come to me, my child.”

You pause, thinking over his words before deciding that he knows best. He is a vessel of the Lord, he is the man who can cleanse your soul and make you good again.

You stand, holding your breath as you leave the booth and close the door behind you. With shaky hands, you open his side and see him within. He looks up at you, his pupils wide and dark as he takes in the sight of you.

“Close the door.”

Having him this close, alone in this big, empty church. It is more than you can bear. You fear for your soul and for the plausibility of its rescue as your thoughts twist into the dark space to which it frequently travels.

You close the door behind you, sealing your fate.

“As I see it, your soul and your body have been tainted by lustful sins,” he says. “The only way to purify you once more is to fill your body with that of something holy and good. I would not normally go to such extreme lengths, but you are a good woman who does not deserve to have her soul taken by the Devil.”

He stands, taking the smallest step available to stand toe to toe with you. He is tall, and he smells sweet. It swarms your senses and makes it so difficult to think. Carlisle raises a hand to your chin, pinching it as his thumb reaches up to smooth along your bottom lip.

“I am a man of God. I do only as God wills me. You know this?”

You nod, your breath shallow as you stare at him. He's so beautiful, this beauty could be nothing but holy.

“Yes, Father.”

“Then you know that I do this in service of the Lord, and by allowing me to do this, you also perform in the service of the Lord?”

You nod again. “Yes, Father.”

“Good.” He smiles, reaching a hand up to your shoulder. He moves slowly as he begins to push the fabric of your dress off of your shoulder until he has revealed the soft expanse of flesh beneath. “‘Submit yourselves, then, to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you.’”

His voice is nearly a purr in your ear, and you shudder as you allow him to touch you. You stand there and allow him to undress you slowly, leaving you bare and him still dressed in his dark robes.

He leans down, his breath hot against your skin and his pants tight as he finally presses his lips to your shoulder. Your eyes shut. He kisses your skin softly, raising a hand to cup the other side of your neck to hold you still. “When we are done, you shall walk again as a woman of God.”

You nod, trying not to drown in the lust and desires that landed you in this position in the first place. There is a part of you that feels so wrong, that feels like you are forsaking the very God to which you are trying to return.

But Father Carlisle is a holy man. If he says this is how you shall atone for your sins, who are you to question him, and thus to question God?

You tilt your head as you let his lips travel along your very flesh, moving up until he tastes the skin of your jaw and up your cheek. You lose breath when he kisses your lips, finally indulging in you like wine. Your sins must run deep if he kisses you with such fervor, pulling your sins from your body like blood from a vein.

His hands reach down to your hips, then further down to your thighs until he is picking you up and wrapping your legs around him. He pushes you into the wall, his mouth devouring you as you hold onto him, whimpers and moans slipping from your mouth.

Your husband has never touched you like this, has never made you feel such passion. When he touches you, it is only as you lay on your back, his hands on your waist as he thrusts into you. He does not look at you, he does not kiss you. He spills inside of you and prays to the Lord for a son to carry his name.

This is much different. You find yourself thanking God for a holy man such as Father Carlisle, one who cares so much for your soul that he is willing to go to such extreme lengths to save it. What a good man, a good and righteous man who tends to his flock in their time of troubles.

“Give yourself to me, and I shall cleanse you.” His breath is heavy, his voice thick. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and wrap your legs tighter around him, trying not to grind against him and bring yourself more sin.

“I give myself to you, Father,” you whimper. “The Bible says, ‘Turn my eyes from looking at worthless things; and give me life in your ways.’ My eyes are turned to you, for I know that you shall give my life to God again.”

His hand tightens around the meat of your thighs. “There is hope for your soul,” he says, reaching for his belt as he begins to undo it, holding your body up against the wall with the strength that God grants him.

You hear the metal clinking as he frees himself, feeling the heat of his cock against your bare flesh. Your hand grips tightly in his hair, and you focus on his eyes as he watches you.

Carlisle kisses you briefly as he strokes the length of his hard cock in his hand, feeling the wetness of your slick folds as you prepare to take him. You whimper, resting your forehead against his own. “I am ready,” you sigh. “Please, take me as you must.”

He does not say anything. He does not need to. With a groan, he nudges the tip of his cock between your folds and pushes inside of you in one long stroke. You close your mouth shut to stifle your moans. You must not make lustful sounds. You must only use your voice to pray to God for your redemption.

You bury your head in his neck, your breaths heavy in his ear as your cunt stretches around him. He holds you securely as his other hand braces himself on the door.

“The Lord says, ‘Flee from sexual immorality.’” Carlisle groans at the way you hug him, slowly pulling out just to thrust back in with a heavy breath. “‘Every other sin a person commits is outside the body, but the sexually immoral person sins against his own body.’”

You cannot help the sound that falls out of you when he thrusts into you so deep that he presses against a spot that has you seeing flashes of white behind your eyes. He turns his lips to your ear as he continues to recite the scripture. “‘Or do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit within you,’” he moans, “‘whom you have from God?’”

He finds a new angle as a pit forms within him, thrusting into you in a way that makes it easier to go faster. You clench around him as he shoves his cock inside of you in such a delicious way that all you can do is hold onto him and praise God for him.

His hair falls out of place, loose strands falling into his face as he stares at you with darkened eyes and a face flushed with blood. He grips you tightly, thrusting roughly into the tight heat of your cunt with low grunts and heavy groans.

“‘You are not your own,’” he nearly growls, pleasure gripping his words as he stares at you, “‘for you were bought with a price. So glorify God in your body.’”

Your head falls back against the door, your eyes squeezed shut and your mouth open as you try not to moan. The sight of you is a lovely one. Bliss covers every inch of your face, and the heat radiating off of his body makes it so difficult to keep him from taking you to the altar and really sinning.

But he must control himself. He is doing this for you and for God. He is doing this so that you may be pure once more, so that he can save your soul from the evil threatening to devour it. It matters not that, in this state, so blinded by your desire, you look like the most beautiful woman he has ever set his eyes upon. He shall make you good once more.

You look at him with teary eyes as the pleasure builds within you. The silver pendant of the cross around his neck gleams at you in the dark, and you can do nothing more than admire its beauty and his own as he takes your body and rids it of its sin.

“Please, Lord,” you pant as you begin to pray, “take my soul once more into—Ahh!—into Your loving hands.” Your voice builds, too much to take as Carlisle continues to ravish you.

“Good,” he coos, nodding his approval. “Keep going. Let God hear your pleas. Pray only with truth and a pure heart, and He shall answer you in kind.”

Your thighs tighten around him, mewling as he presses so deep within you that your whole body shudders. “Lift me up into the light of Your love,” you whimper, “and make me whole with the love of Your light.” Your head falls into the crook of his neck. “F-Forgive me of my sins, for I w-wish only to serve You, Lord, and be faithful u-until—Mmph!—until the time comes to greet You i-in Your—Oh, Father—t-to greet You in Your kingdom.”

You are barely holding on. When Carlisle presses the pad of his thumb to your clit, your eyes roll back. His breaths are heavy and his face is flushed. He looks like he is only moments away from giving in to the call within him.

“Don't stop,” he pants. “Let Him hear you.”

It is so hard to think with the way he presses into you, with the way he holds you and brings your body to a needy shudder. “I-I…” You struggle to catch your breath. “I ask You, Lord…to heal me, a-and–” Your prayers are cut off by a desperate cry of pleasure.

He holds you tight. His voice is deeper, strained. “Keep going.”

“A-And reclaim my body as Your own, Lord. For You are my Shepherd, and I, Your sheep.” You are a mewling mess, covered in tears as your arousal coats the inside of your thighs and stains the front of his pants. “F-Fill me…” you gasp, “Fill me with Your love and let me be holy once m-more.”

Your cunt tightens around his cock, sucking him in as his thrusts become erratic, deep and shallow thrusts pulling him closer and closer until he can take no more.

“In the Lord's name, we pray…” Carlisle shoves into you with two more harsh thrusts before finally caving.

The flick of his thumb has you falling apart. Your vision goes hazy, and your jaw drops. You have no choice but to cry out as the knot that had been growing in your belly snaps and breaks the dam that crashes through your body like Noah’s flood, washing away your sins and making you anew.

“Amen!” you cry out, your voice broken and hoarse from the pleasure.

Carlisle spills inside of you, his hot cum filling you and painting the inside of your walls. You feel his holiness seeping into your body as he grips your hips so tightly, they will likely bruise by morning's light. He grunts as his hips snap up into you a couple more times, ensuring he has flooded even the deepest parts of you, using his cum as a way to cleanse you from the inside out.

The roaring of blood in your ears eventually dulls to a gentle rush, leaving you panting and heavy in his embrace. Carlisle lingers for a moment, basking in the warmth of your body and the sweet smell of your skin and your release coating his softening cock.

“Amen,” he whispers as he gathers the strength to pull out of you. He sets you on your feet once more, supporting you with a hand to your waist.

He raises his other hand to pinch your chin once more, dipping down to press a long kiss to your lips. “You did very well,” he assures, licking his lips indulgently.

“Thank you, Father,” you sigh heavily, feeling your body still buzzing from such a grand release.

He hums, tucking himself back into his pants with a sigh. He runs a hand through your hair, brushing his knuckles over your cheek. How fortunate he was to have a beauty like you in his church, to cleanse in the name of his Lord…

“‘On this day shall atonement be made for you to cleanse you. You shall be clean before the Lord from all your sins,’” he says in an almost breathless voice.

You smile, dropping to your knees before him as you bow your head to submit to his will and his grace. 

Carlisle takes a breath at the sight of you as he brushes his hair back with his fingers, tidying himself once more. He bows his head gently as he crosses himself with a slow hand.

“I absolve you of your sins in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”

Tears spring to your eyes, staining your cheeks with your gratitude. You clasp your hands together, looking up at him with shining eyes. “Thank you, Father,” you smile, taking his hand in yours as you kiss the ring which lay upon his finger. “Thank you.”

He moves his hand to pet the top of your head. “You need only thank God, for His is the power that He grants to me to forgive you of your sins.”

You nod, still clasping your hands as you send your thankful prayers to your lord and savior. You grab your clothes as you stand to your feet. Carlisle helps you dress one more and presses the warm palm of his hand to your cheek.

“Go now in peace, and remember that the Lord is merciful,” he says gently. “If the work of the Devil finds your soul once more, know that I am here to help you flee from him. Keep your heart pure for God and only Him, and you shall know the light of Heaven's gates.”

You can no longer refrain as you throw yourself into his arms. He holds you close, sharing in your embrace with a loving kiss to your forehead. “Thank you again, and thank God for you, Father Carlisle,” you beam. “You are a good man.”

He smiles. “I do only what God tells me.”

He pulls reluctantly from your embrace and opens the confessional door. “Go now. God be with you.”

“And also with you.” You bow your head as you take your leave, a new life sprung to your body as he watches you walk away. You glance over your shoulder at him with another grateful smile, and Carlisle returns it before finding his way back to the altar to pray.

He kneels before the dominating cross on the wall, bringing his fingers down from his forehead and then across his shoulders. His voice echoes through the hall. He speaks softly but so full of repentance as he presses his hands together.

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.”

He said to her, 'Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace and be freed from your suffering...

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[gogogodzilla]

✧ 𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝟠 : 𝑀𝑒𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑖𝑐  ✧

【 𝑇𝑜𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑜𝑤 】

╰› 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑒 𝑠𝑤𝑎𝑛 𝑥 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

╰› 〖 𝑆𝑦𝑛𝑜𝑝𝑠𝑖𝑠 〗: Your car breaks down in the middle of nowhere, allowing you to reunite with Charlie after all these years

╰› 〖 𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 〗: nsfw 18+, slight age gap, light angst, charlie's pov, slight dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering

╰›  ✧ 𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑘𝑡𝑜𝑏𝑒𝑟 𝑚.𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ✧ 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑 𝑜𝑛 𝑎𝑜3 ✧ 𝑤𝑎𝑡𝑡𝑝𝑎𝑑 ✧

Rain patters against the roof of Swan Auto Repair, and the smell of motor oil, grease, and the remnants of old coffee fills the air. Charlie sits slumped at his desk in the back office of his shop, his head propped against his arm wrinkling the papers underneath. His faded flannel shirt is worn and rolled up to his elbows, exposing his oil-smudged hands and forearms. A distant ringing pulls him further out of his slumber and he blinks blearily as he attempts to regain his senses. 

He sits up with a groan, his back aching from his uncomfortable position. His steps toward the reception area are uncoordinated and he stumbles a little as he reaches for the phone on the wall. 

He picks up the phone and presses it against his ear. 

“Swan Auto” he answers, his voice thick with sleep. 

“Charlie?” your voice rings out on the other line. 

He straightens at the sound of your voice, and he’s surprised his heart didn’t lurch out of his chest. He can’t remember the last time he heard your voice, but it sounds just like it did the day you left.  

He forces himself out of his thoughts. “Been a while. Everything okay?” 

Your voice quivers as you speak. “I’d be better if my car didn’t break down in the middle of the night. Would you be willing to give an old friend a tow?” 

He likes to think you were more than old friends. The nights you used to spend tangled in his sheets surely meant something to him.

“Where are you?” 

He holds the phone with his shoulder as he searches for his jacket. You rattle off your location, which is mostly just a combination of landmarks. 

“Stay where you are. I’ll be there soon,” he says before hanging up. He grabs his jacket from a nearby coat rack and heads toward his tow truck. He wonders if you’ve changed at all. Forks had been a constant in his life, even after it felt like his world had been turned upside down by your departure. He figured the same could be applied to him. He hadn't changed except for a few more gray hairs and the sense not to get attached.

He sighs as he climbs into his ancient tow truck. It sputters to life, and Charlie begins his drive towards your location.  

He pulls in front of your car on the side of the road and hardly has enough time to throw it in park before he jumps out to meet you. You’re standing near your car, soaked to the bone. 

“Charlie!” you call as you head toward his truck. 

He wraps an arm around your shoulder and ushers you toward the passenger side of his truck. He practically shoves you in the seat before slamming the door behind you. 

He clambers into his truck, grateful to be out of the rain. He turns to look at you, taking in your appearance. The rain had soaked through your clothes, forcing them to cling tightly to your form. He can’t help his gaze from wandering, watching as water trickles down your neck and dips between the valley of your breasts.

“You’re drenched,” he says, forcing himself to look anywhere else but your tits. Your teeth begin to chatter and he reaches over to turn the heat up. 

“Why didn’t you just wait in the car?” he questions, his voice rough but not unkind. 

You shrug, “Felt weird just sitting there.”

His gaze softens as he looks at you, really looks at you, not just your soaking wet clothes. You hadn’t changed a bit. He couldn’t count the number of times he’d dreamed of just being in your presence once more, and now that he was really with you he didn’t know what to do. 

You turn to face him, “Thank you, Charlie. I don’t know where I’d be without you.” 

“Probably getting hypothermia,” he sighs. “Stay here while I hook your car up. We’ll take it back to the shop, and I can take a look at it there.” 

He doesn’t wait for your reply before jumping out of his truck. He works quickly to hook up your car, the rain only slightly inhibiting his progress. By the time he returns to you, he’s drenched and shivering. He’s thankful you’ve cranked the heat, and he takes a moment to defrost. 

“It’s good to see you, even if the circumstances aren’t exactly ideal,” you said, cutting through the awkward silence that fell upon you.  

He cleared his throat and started his truck. He was silent as he pulled out onto the road. Pine trees passed by in a flash as he picked up speed. The sooner he could get you back to his shop, the sooner he could get away from you. That’s what you wanted, right? 

“I told you to get rid of that piece of crap when you had the chance,” he mentioned, nodding his head toward his rearview mirror. 

You grinned, “It got me this far, hasn’t it?” 

“Speaking of, why now? Couldn’t find what you were looking for halfway across the country?” he questioned and it came out harsher than he intended. 

His words lingered between you, leaving a bad taste in his mouth. The silence that filled the cab of his truck was suffocating, and he counted down the seconds until he pulled into his shop. 

The rain had lightened up only slightly as he dropped your car off at his shop. You followed him into the back office as the tension simmered between you. He leans on the edge of his desk, taking in your appearance. You haven’t aged a day; you just look a bit more tired, maybe a little more sad. 

“M’sorry about earlier,” he begins. 

You wave him off, “I deserved it, don’t worry about it.”

“Still,” he shrugs, meeting your gaze, “it wasn’t fair. You had every right to leave this town and chase your dreams.”

You take a step towards him, “I shouldn’t have left the way I did. That wasn’t fair.” 

He resists the urge to pull you in and kiss all the regrets away. You shift on your feet before taking another step closer, situating yourself between his thighs. It almost seems like you’ve read his mind. 

You cup his face and he leans into your touch. A soft noise escapes him as you drag your thumb across his cheek. 

“I missed you,” he murmurs as he looks up at you. 

Your eyes search his for a moment, and the next thing he knows you’re leaning in. Your lips collide, and it's everything he’s dreamt about for the past few years. You kiss him, and it’s like nothing’s changed. It’s like you never left. 

You tangle your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging him impossibly closer. He groans against your mouth and slides his tongue against your bottom lip. His hands wander downward and squeeze your ass, earning a small yelp in response. He uses the opportunity and runs his tongue across the backs of your teeth. 

You pull away, panting, your breath tickling his cheeks. Your eyes meet, and the slight nod of your head is all it takes for the rest of his resolve to crumble underneath your fingertips. 

He grabs you and spins the two of you so you’re pressed against his desk. “Gotta get you outta these wet clothes, baby,” he mentions as his hands wander under the hem of your shirt. 

You hum, pulling him in by his flannel. Your lips meet in a sloppy kiss, and his hands skim across your body, almost as if memorizing the feel of your skin under his fingertips. Although, he doubts he could ever forget the feeling. 

One hand pops the closure of your jeans while the other wraps lightly around your neck, squeezing slightly as you kiss him. 

“You miss me as much as I miss you?” he questions as he dips his hand down your pants. His fingertips brush against your clothed core, and you gasp against him. He hums, “Certainly feels like you missed me.” 

He presses open-mouthed kisses against the side of your neck as he teases you through your underwear. You tucked yourself into the crook of his neck, and your quiet moans quickly turned into desperate pleas. 

The urge to have you desperate and crying for his cock nearly overwhelms him. A small part of him wants you to feel like he felt all those years– release just close enough that you can taste it but too far to fully grasp it. 

A larger, louder part of him wants to bury his cock in you and have you singing his name within the next 30 seconds. That part of him won. 

He pushes you back against the hard expanse of his desk and makes quick work of your jeans and underwear. He tugs them down and off your body, leaving you bare before him. He could’ve come just from the sight of you. You looked up at him as you spread your thighs, baring your glistening cunt for him. Just for him. 

He slides a finger through your folds, and you sink your teeth into your bottom lip, muffling a whine. 

He halts his movements. “Let me hear you, baby. Wanna hear those pretty little noises you make.” 

You give him an obedient nod, and he continues. He swipes a finger through your folds, gathering your slick as he circles your clit. You arch against his touch, moaning a little. 

His free hand moves upward to push up your t-shirt over your breasts. His fingers run over the lacy front of your bra, and when that isn’t enough for him, he pulls down the front of your bra. He circles your nipples, mirroring his ministrations on your clit, and the buds harden under his touch. 

He sinks his finger into your core, pumping it a few times and eliciting a breathy moan from you. He wants to take his time with you, despite the raging desire to ruin you. He wants you to keep crawling back to him because no one can make you feel the way that he does. 

You give him an all too familiar pleading look, and he decides to take mercy on you just this once. He pops the button on his jeans and eagerly pushes down his boxers just enough to let his cock spring free. He pulls out of you and coats his cock with your arousal. He pumps his hand a few times before sliding his cock through your folds. You whine each time his head hits your clit, and it's music to his ears. 

He plunges into you inch by tantalizing inch. Your legs wrap around his hips, pulling him in closer. You felt heavenly against him, squeezing him just right. The plush skin of your thigh sinks under his fingertips as he pushes your thighs near your chest, practically bending you in half. He begins to rock his hips, nearly getting lost in the sensation of you already. 

Your walls flutter and clench around him. You arch your back as he readjusts his angle, hitting the sensitive spot inside you. He reaches down to where the two of you meet and draws lazy figure-eights against your clit, earning a whine in response. 

The familiar heat builds within his abdomen and he wills himself to last a little longer. He needs to feel you cum around his cock, and the thought consumes him as he thrusts harder into you. 

He grabs your face with his free hand and leans down to press a sloppy kiss against your lips. It’s a mixture of tongue and teeth, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. The obscene sounds of your sopping heat and skin slapping against skin fill his back office. It’s nearly enough to make his cheeks flush. 

Your thighs clamp against his sides as you throw your head back and cum with a strangled cry. Your pussy squeezes him like a vice as your release crashes over you, and his thrusts falter. 

He grips your hips and juts into you for a final time as he cums hard, filling you just how you liked. A comfortable silence lingers between you as you both catch your breath. 

He slowly pulls out of you and watches as his release leaks over your folds. He attempts to commit the image to memory, just in case this is the last time you’ll be together like this. 

You grab at his flannel and tug him down for a kiss. It’s much softer than your previous ones. He prays it’s not a kiss goodbye. 

“You in town for long?” he questions as he pulls away. 

You shrug, “For the foreseeable future.”

“You got a place to stay tonight?” 

You shake your head and look up at him with those eyes he could never resist. 

“You can stay at my place, and I’ll take a look at your car in the morning. Deal?” 

You stand and press a chaste kiss to his lips. 

“Deal.”