#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.

[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. 

[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]

I Don't Need A Gentleman

pairing: edward cullen x gender neutral reader tags: edward is old fashioned and kinda a prude, the reader is not, reader doesn't want vanilla sex anymore, alice and rosalie are cool sister in laws

You lounge on the massive, cream-colored couch in the Cullens’ living room, scrolling absentmindedly through your phone as Alice and Rosalie flip through a stack of fashion magazines. It’s one of those rare, lazy evenings—no imminent threats, no pressing vampire drama—just the family scattered around the house doing their own thing. Alice bumps your foot with hers. “You’re weirdly quiet today. Seriously, what’s up?”

You look up, tapping the phone against your knee. “It’s kind of about Edward.”

Rosalie arches a perfectly groomed brow. “What did our golden boy do now?”

Your cheeks—if they still could—might blush. “He didn’t really do anything wrong, exactly. It’s just…” You pause, gathering your thoughts. Even though you’ve been married to Edward for a while, it can still be tough to put some things into words. “He’s super considerate, and I adore that about him. But sometimes—okay, a lot of times—I just wish he’d show a little more…passion? Fire?”

Alice makes a sympathetic face, setting her magazine aside. “He can be a bit old-school, yeah. He has that ‘eternally seventeen’ gentleman thing down to a T.”

“Tell me about it,” you huff. “I’m a vampire, too! I mean, I’m not exactly made of glass. But he keeps treating me like I’m this delicate flower that might crumble if the wind blows too hard. I swear, sometimes our kisses feel like little pecks—like he’s worried I’ll spontaneously combust if he lingers longer than three seconds.”

Rosalie leans back, crossing her arms. “Look, Edward’s always been overly cautious. It’s one of his most annoying…okay, fine, endearing qualities. But you can’t blame him for wanting to protect you. He’s basically built that way.”

You sit up straighter, pushing your hair out of your face. “Totally. I get it. I love how he’s protective, and, well, a total gentleman. But I need more of that oomph. Y’know, that feeling where you just can’t keep your hands off each other.”

Alice snorts a laugh. “I never thought I’d hear you say ���oomph.’ You should definitely say that to Edward’s face. He’d probably blush so hard, if vampires could blush.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you say, rolling your eyes playfully. “But how do I bring it up without hurting his feelings? He’s so sensitive. The moment he thinks he’s made me even slightly uncomfortable, he clams up.”

Rosalie sets the magazine aside with a little thump. “You’re married. He can handle the conversation. Trust me, you should be honest about it. Being in love for, what, decades? That means talking about the hard stuff, or the passionate stuff.” She smirks at that last part.

Alice nods enthusiastically, tucking her legs up beneath her. “The best way is just to be straightforward. Tell him how you feel without making it sound like he’s doing something wrong. Emphasize that you love his old-fashioned side—it’s part of why you married him, right? But also make it crystal clear that you want him to dial up the heat. You’re a vampire, for crying out loud, not some breakable human.”

You exhale, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. “You guys are right. I’m probably overthinking it. I’m worried he’ll take it the wrong way, but I can’t just keep ignoring how frustrated I am.”

“Exactly.” Alice taps your knee again. “He’ll listen, especially if you remind him that you still love all the things that make him Edward. He just needs to hear that you want him to trust your strength, too.”

Rosalie stands, stretching with the fluidity of a cat. “And if that doesn’t work, just throw him up against a wall somewhere. That’ll get the point across.”

Alice gasps in mock horror. “Rosalie Hale! That’s your brother you’re talking about.”

She smirks. “Hey, I’m just saying, sometimes subtlety isn’t the answer.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Let me try talking first before I start tossing him around.”

Alice and Rosalie share amused glances as you stand, giving a quick wave. “Thanks for the advice, seriously.”

“Anytime,” Alice sings out.

“Go get ’em,” Rosalie adds, winking.

You head up the stairs to find Edward, heart fluttering in that familiar way only he can cause, despite both of you being, well, undead. He’s in his usual spot in the family’s library, flipping through a thick novel—something old and fancy, undoubtedly. The moment he senses you, he glances up with a small smile, eyes full of that unwavering devotion.

“Hey,” you say, crossing the room until you’re close enough to rest a hand on his shoulder. “Got a minute to talk?”

“Of course,” Edward responds softly, setting the book aside. He tilts his head, concern flickering in those golden eyes. “Is everything all right?”

“It is,” you reassure him, settling in beside him on the velvet couch. You can still hear Alice’s and Rosalie’s voices drifting faintly from downstairs, but you focus on Edward. “I just wanted to share something that’s been on my mind, and it’s really important to me.”

He nods earnestly. “You know you can tell me anything.”

Taking a breath, you gently place your hand over his. “So, we’ve been together for a long time. We’re married, and I’m a vampire—just like you, right? But sometimes I feel like you’re handling me with kid gloves. I love your gentlemanly side, and I’d never want you to completely lose that. But I want us to be able to express our love passionately, without you worrying so much that I’ll break.”

Edward’s gaze drops to your entwined hands. “I—I see,” he says quietly. “I never meant to make you feel like you weren’t my equal. It’s just…I can’t shake the habit of worrying you might be hurt or regret something if I let go too much. Even though you’re stronger than any human I once knew, it’s hard to override decades of caution.”

Leaning in, you brush a gentle kiss against his cheek. “I know. And I respect how deeply you care. But hey, my strength is legit.” You grin, flexing half-jokingly. “I promise, I can handle more. And if something’s too much, I’ll tell you.”

Edward’s lips curve into a small smile. “Thank you for being honest with me. I guess I needed a reminder that I’m not the only one in this relationship who has a say—especially when it comes to showing affection.”

Your heart (metaphorically) flutters at the genuine warmth in his voice. “Exactly. I love being with you, and I don’t want you to hold back. We can figure out the balance, you know, do the old-fashioned courting stuff, but also, I don’t know…maybe occasionally break the furniture?”

His eyes widen for half a second in surprise, then he laughs, the sound soft and musical. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he teases, sliding a hand around your waist to pull you closer. This time, when you tilt your head up for a kiss, you feel him lean in just a bit more—a tiny, tangible shift. His lips linger, his cool hand splaying across your back. The moment stretches on until you both draw away, contented smiles on your faces.

“That,” you whisper, thumb brushing against his jaw, “was exactly what I’ve been missing.”

Edward’s eyes shine with affection. “Then I’ll make sure you never miss it again.”

Downstairs, you can practically hear Alice’s “Yes!” whispered under her breath, and you know Rosalie is grinning in that smug way that says, “Told you so.” It makes you laugh softly. But that’s the beauty of this big, unconventional vampire family.

Edward gently presses his forehead against yours. Neither of you needs to breathe, but the moment feels like a breath of fresh air anyway. Old-fashioned or not, he’s all yours—and he’s finally letting you show him that you’re every bit the strong partner he deserves. And judging by the heat in his eyes, this is just the beginning.

[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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[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…

[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."

[zzzssleeping]

The Other Swan

Emmett C. x male reader

Bella Swan's unexpected older brother visits and discovers he's soulmates with a vampire.

Fluff, attempted humor, ooc Bella, part two

Forks was…an experience. Not exactly (Y/n)’s first choice of places to visit, let alone stay in, but hey, life had a funny way of throwing curveballs. The town was all rain, gloom, and had quiet streets, something out of a murder documentary. Not that he minded the weather. He actually liked the rain. But the lack of city noise, the absence of people-watching opportunities, yeah, not really his thing.

Still, he supposed he couldn’t complain too much. Being here meant spending time with Bella, and honestly, who else was going to annoy her? Judging by their last few phone calls, she’d found a new distraction anyway, some guy named Eddie? No, Edward. Right. Not that he’d been paying attention.

Hands into his pockets, he walked through the halls of Forks High, feeling the curious stares. One unfamiliar face and suddenly, he was the gossip. Unlike Bella, who preferred to keep her head down, he drew attention. Few people stared, wondering who he was, and in return, he threw a lazy wave before spotting a familiar head of brown hair sitting at a lunch table.

A smirk crossed his face. Time for a proper sibling reunion.

Light on his feet, he crept up behind her, ignoring the confused glances from her friends. A girl with dark curls opened her mouth to warn Bella, but it was too late, he jabbed his fingers into her sides, earning a sharp yelp and an immediate glare. Bella nearly jumped out of her seat, spinning around so fast she almost knocked over her lunch tray.

"Oh my God, are you serious?" Bella flushed with embarrassment.

He grinned. "Nice seeing you too, little sis."

The cafeteria hummed with quiet murmurs, (Y/n) barely noticed, too busy enjoying Bella’s misery. Her friends, on the other hand, had mixed reactions, some relieved that he wasn’t a random psycho, most amused, trying to cover up their snickers.

"Wait, sis?" A girl with glasses muttered, glancing between them as if trying to spot the resemblance. "Yeah," Bella sighed, scooting over to make room for her brother. She did not look thrilled. "The better Swan, actually," (Y/n) added, wiggling his brows. Jessica giggled. Bella, in true little-sister fashion, stomped down hard on his foot without hesitation.

"Ow!" He yelped, jerking away like she’d personally betrayed him. "After weeks of not seeing each other, this is how you treat me?"

"We saw each other a month ago."

"Exactly. Too long."

She rolled her eyes. Typical. The two of them were complete opposites, Bella was all quiet sarcasm, (Y/n) was all loud dramatics. And yet, despite their differences, their bond was solid, close friends maybe. That didn’t mean they wouldn’t torment each other at every opportunity, it was only part of the sibling experience.

"So," he drawled, glancing at the table, "who’s this Eddie guy I keep hearing about?"

Bella groaned. "His name is Edward," she corrected, already bracing herself for whatever nonsense he was going to say next. He paused. "Edward? Seriously?" He let out a small laugh, making a face. "What year is he from, the 1950s?" A few of her friends let out quiet laughs, clearly liking (Y/n) already while she silently questioned all her life choices leading up to this moment.

"Can you not judge him for one second? You haven't even met him," she complained, exasperation clear in her voice. She wished, for once, he would take something seriously. He raised his hands in a mock of surrender. "Whoa, easy there. As your older brother, it’s my duty to make sure he’s not, oh, I don’t know, planning to suck your blood or something."

She let out a nervous chuckle, having her hand change into a fist. If only he knew. He can be incredibly oblivious at times, one of the few things working in her favor right now.

"Funny," she mutters. "Just give him a chance, okay?" She grabbed his arm, almost pleading, hoping to wear him down. As much as she hated him to admit it, Bella did look up to him. This was important. Edward was her forever, and (Y/n) was one of the most important people in her life. If they didn't get along...well, she really didn't want to think about that right now.

"If it helps, he's really cute," Jessica chimed in, making heads turn her way.

"What?" She defended at the stares. "It's true."

He let out an exaggerated sigh, clearly debating his options like this was some huge sacrifice. He never imagined his sister having a boyfriend before him or even never. Finally, he shrugged, trying to keep from saying anymore comments. "Okay, fine-but if he tries anything funny, I'll kick him where the sun don't shine."

As the days passed, the inevitable moment finally arrived. And, of course, (Y/n) spent the entire car ride complaining about every single thing. "Why do I have to meet his whole family, am I the one dating him?" He grumbled, arms crossed. In the drive seat was Bella who pressed her lips together, gripping the wheel a little tighter, annoyance growing in her veins. "Can you ple-"

"I wanna go home."

She inhaled sharply, just a little longer. Finally, they pulled up to the Cullens’ house before she completely lost her patience and threw him out on the street and leave him stranded. Not that she would, Edward was waiting for them, and she wasn’t about to test her boyfriend’s vampire speed over a sibling squabble. Pulling up to the Cullens’ house, if you could even call it that. (Y/n)'s eyes widening as he took in the large mansion.

"Okay…this is a house?" He blinked, eyes wide, taking it all in. Bella shot him a warning glare. "Can you not embarrass me?" He merely shrugged, stuffing his hands into his pockets casually. "No promises."

Waiting there patiently at the front of the door, she didn't have to knock as the door opened, because, of course, the vampires waiting inside already knew they were here thanks to their weird abilities. A pale woman with soft features and warm eyes greeted them, smiling sweetly.

"Hello, Bella. It’s lovely to see you. Please, come in."

(Y/n) hesitated for a second, caught off guard. She was…weirdly welcoming? And stunning, but that was beside the point. He cleared his throat, stepping inside, not to shocked to be greeted by another tall, handsome man standing beside her, equally attractive. So far, the Cullens were all too good-looking, like they belonged in a high-end fashion ad rather than a small-town house. They almost didn’t seem real.

"This is my husband, Carlisle," she introduced. "And I’m Esme." She turned gracefully toward the kitchen, the click of her heels echoing in the quiet space. "I hope you like spaghetti and meatballs, this won’t take long." As soon as her back was turned, (Y/n) leaned toward Bella, whispering softly: "they’re gorgeous." She opened her mouth to shut him up, that's when Edward appeared in time, looking effortlessly handsome but the brother didn't seem that impressed.

He approached with a polite nod, his dark gaze drifting toward the other Swan sibling, raising his hand for a polite handshake.

"Hello, you must be (Y/n). Your sister has mentioned some...nice things about you."

He narrowed his eyes, shaking Edward’s hand but clearly suspicious. "Did she tell you to say that, or did she secretly complain about me? Blink twice if you’re being held captive." Edward’s lips twitched, amusement flickering in his eyes. He hadn't expected for him to be so different from his lover, not that he minded. He did enjoy their unusual conversations on call, hearing their gossips and whatnot.

Wanting to push further until the sound of light footsteps caught (Y/n)'s attention, he instantly froze. Golden eyes met his, and it sent a surprised shiver down his spine. For a brief, heart-stopping moment, his chest tightened, his heart fluttering in a way he definitely wasn’t prepared for. For the first time in his life, the always obnoxious Swan was completely, utterly speechless.

Holy shit.

[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.

[gogogodzilla]

day 4, cock warming

charlie swan x reader warnings: nsfw 18+, slight dirty talk, unprotected sex, slight almost getting caught, brief handjob, domestic charlie swan kinktober ☠︎︎ main masterlist ☠︎︎ read on ao3

Sundays meant game day. They also meant Bella would be out of the house hanging out with Edward or one of the other Cullens. This also meant that you and Charlie got some much-needed alone time. The sun was setting, the last of the sun’s rays dipping behind the horizon. 

You padded into the dimly lit living room, cold beer in hand. The soft glow of the TV allowed you to make out your path. Charlie’s team had begun to lose horribly, and his eyes were beginning to glaze over. 

You set the beer on its designated coaster and approached his position sprawled out on the couch. Wordless you crawled on top of him, taking him by surprise. You rested your head on his chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat

“Hey there,” he said, affection and curiosity evident in his tone. 

“Hey,” you replied softly, wrapping your arms around him. 

He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest. Your sleep shirt left little to the imagination, and the bare skin was tantalizing. His hands drifted downward, and you forced yourself to focus on the game. 

You dragged yourself upward, making sure to grind against the imprint of his length. You disguised it as reaching for a blanket and covering the both of you. Charlie eyed you, the game completely forgotten, and you felt him twitch under you. 

His hands drifted under your sleep shirt and moved to cup your ass. Charlie sucked in a breath when he realized you weren’t wearing any underwear. 

“Whatcha up to, darlin’?”

You looked up at him innocently, “I’m just watching the game.” 

“Wanna explain where your underwear went?” 

You sat up to straddle him and grin. The blanket falls, splayed against Charlie’s thighs.  “Are you gonna search me, Chief Swan?” 

He dragged his fingertips along your bare thighs, eyes dancing across your features. “I think I might have to, miss,” he responded, donning the tone he used when he was working. 

Your smirk turned devilish as you slid your hand in between your bodies and palmed him. Charlie jutted his hips upward and met your movements. He leaned up to kiss you, his lips moving languidly against yours. 

His hands began to wander over the soft expanse of your back and eventually to your chest. He kneads your breasts and extends a thumb to glide across your nipple as you kiss him, eliciting a soft moan from the both of you. 

You pulled away and hooked a finger into the waistband of Charlie’s sweatpants and tugged, revealing what you’d been aching for all evening. You wrapped your hand around him and pumped it slowly, teasing him. He released a shaky breath as he bucked his hips. 

You lifted yourself up and swiped his cock through your folds, eliciting a gasp from the both of you. Slowly, you lowered yourself onto him. His large hands grip your hips and helped you down, watching as your dripping core swallowed his cock. 

He hissed as he bottomed out. “So fucking tight, baby.” 

The sound of jingling keys into the lock of your front door caused you to jump, your pussy clenching around Charlie. 

You were quick to grab the edge of the blanket and cover the both of you. Your head nearly collided with Charlie’s chin in your hurry to lie down and act inconspicuously. The pounding of his heart reverberated against the shell of your ear as you rested your head on his chest. He twitched inside you, nervousness mixing with excitement. You’d never done anything this risky before. 

Bella’s footsteps neared, and you prayed she couldn’t see the scarlet dusting your cheeks. All you could focus on was just how deep Charlie was inside of you, and it was making your mind hazy. 

“Hey!” Charlie called, attempting to keep his tone even. “You’re home early.”

You lifted your head slightly to look at the teenager. 

“Yeah, we have a test tomorrow. Edward wanted me to have time to study,” she said nonchalantly. Charlie nodded, feigning approval. “Enjoy the game, guys,” Bella waved her goodbye and headed for her bedroom. 

Once you heard the familiar sound of her door clicking shut, you breathed out a sigh of relief. Charlie let out a soft groan. 

“That was close,” Charlie murmured, shifting his hips slightly. You nodded, your core still fluttering around him.

“Too close.” 

“How ‘bout we watch the game in our room?” 

You grinned before sliding off of him, biting your lip to prevent yourself from moaning. Your arousal was nearly dripping down your legs as you stood, and heat rushed to your cheeks at the sensation. 

Charlie quickly tucked himself back into his sweatpants before standing up from the couch, the imprint of his erection still very evident.

You held out a hand to him. “Don’t wanna miss too much of the game.” 

“No, we don’t,” he answered, lacing his fingers with yours and leading you to the bedroom.

[junkdrawerfics]

hiya! could you write a jasper fic where the reader meets the major? i'm obsessed with how you write for jasper 🥺

A Major Moment

Summary: Takes place in Breaking Dawn, when all the covens show up to be witnesses for the Cullens. Jasper is worried about you being around so many vampires, especially when he starts to feel like he's losing control. When an incident does occur, the Major steps in to save the day. But you have no clue what's happening.

Words: 2456

Note: I'm alive! And writing again. This work gave me so much trouble before I took my break, but I'm pretty happy with it! I hope you like it, thank you for the request!

---

“I don’t like you bein’ here,” Jasper murmurs stiffly, leaning against the doorway to your shared room.

“I know, Jazz, but I’m worried about what’ll happen if I’m not here.” You pull on your coat, turning to meet his concerned gaze. It makes you soften and you give him a gentle smile, “You think I haven’t noticed how tense you’ve been lately, huh mister?”

Jasper’s lips press into a thin line, a wrinkle forming between his brows. Of course you noticed. 

It started the moment Alice had the vision of the Volturi coming for their family. He felt it, in the back of his mind. That slight pull. The need to feel in control. Him. 

Jasper was used to it. He had plenty of practice holding him back, only letting the edges fray enough to help. Like when they fought the newborn army, or when the two of you and Alice had fled with Bella from the hunter. He could control it. He had to.

You were never meant to meet that part of him, the one with stained hands and war-driven convictions. You were too soft for that side of him, too…breakable. So Jasper did everything in his power to keep him out of it, locked away deep in the recesses of his mind.

But then their allies started to appear and something shifted. The pull turned into a dull pressure in his chest, like a beast pressing at the bars of its cage. Snarling, vicious, protective. He could feel it as he watched you interact with them, oblivious to the danger, the hunger he could feel radiating from all of them. It set his teeth grinding.

“You shouldn’t trust ‘em, darlin,” the blond warns you, voice almost a growl.

“They’re our allies, Jazz,” you remind him softly, curling your arms around his waist. The vampire is tense, tenser than usual. You prop your chin against his chest, wide eyes squinting. “Plus I have you. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but they’re all pretty intimidated by you. They won’t try anything.”

That does give him a strange sense of satisfaction. While he considers most of these people friends, he knows that he won’t be able to control himself if one of them touches you. The family had made it clear. You’re off limits. Every human in Forks is off limits. Still-

“Hey.” You pinch his ribs, making Jasper jump. Those gold eyes flicker back down to you questioningly. You shake your head, giggling, “Stop worrying! I’m fine, they’re fine, everything will turn out okay. You can relax, Jazz, I’m safe.”

The stiffness lasts for only a few moments before Jasper gives in and leans down to press a kiss to your forehead. He’s always had trouble resisting you, especially when you radiate such warmth. There’s no doubt, no hesitation in your emotions. Just complete and utter certainty in him.

The beast goes quiet, if only for a moment.

A moment that disappears as soon as you join the covens downstairs.

The room is tense, filled with quiet, murmured conversations. They’re all on edge. Though they were all asked to come only to be witnesses before the Volturi, the expectation of a battle still hangs over the house.

You flicker among them, sparking conversation, making jokes, trying to just lighten the mood. It’s the least you can do to help. And this way you don’t feel so useless. If it does come down to a fight, that is exactly what you’ll be. You’re only human after all.

Jasper lingers along the wall, never taking his eyes off of you. 

It’s in moments like this he wishes he could turn his ability off. Every anxiety, every twitch of impatience, the collection of unspoken concern, he feels it all. It’s like walking through a fog so thick you can barely see. It's suffocating.

And he can feel him again. Prowling along the edges of his mind. Looking for just the right moment to-

A sharp gasp makes Jasper flinch. The smell of blood, your blood, hits him, and for a split second, his focus falters.

Enough for his control to slip.

---

You can barely process it.

One moment, you’re clutching your bleeding hand to your chest, fear freezing you to the ground as you watch a man lunge for you, teeth bared in a snarl.

The next moment, that same man is crashing through the wall of windows, the sound of shattering glass ringing through the air. The whole room goes dead silent.

Jasper stands in his place, drawing back to his full height, face a mask of impassivity, eyes alight with a rage that makes everyone recoil. It pours off of him, fills the room like the static before the storm. 

Your breath freezes in your lungs when he turns to you. It feels like one wrong move could set him off. On what? You don’t know. But you stay stock still as his eyes trace over you slowly. They catch on the blood oozing out between your fingers, the ones you desperately press against your wound. Something dark flashes across his face, his jaw clenching.

“Upstairs.”

Your heart lurches to your throat, wariness and confusion flooding your chest. His voice is deeper than you’ve ever heard it, accent thicker. An alarm goes off in your head.

When you don’t move, though, Jasper reaches for your arm, grip just shy of bruising.

“I said - upstairs.”

Before you can even get a word out, he’s dragging you in that direction, so fast you can barely keep up without stumbling. Glancing to the Cullens, you silently beg for some kind of help. You have no clue what’s going on. But the family just watches on as if they’ve seen this all before. Except Bella, who looks just as confused as you feel.

Your attention is forced back to staying upright when you reach the stairs. Jasper doesn’t slow down for even a second, not until you reach your room and he practically throws you inside. In an instant, you’re backed against a wall, his tall frame eclipsing yours.

“Show me,” he demands, voice low, barely restrained.

“What?” You squeak, eyes wide, heart racing. Something’s wrong.

“Show me your hand.”

You tighten your hold unconsciously. Panic grips you like a noose around your lungs. 

“I don’t- I don’t think that’s a good idea, Jazz,” you croak out. There’s too much blood.

Jasper’s eyes narrow, “And I don’t appreciate repeatin’ myself, sugar.”

“But-”

“Now.”

Flinching, you instantly offer him your hand. Even if it’s a bad idea, you don’t want to test this side of him. Something tells you that he could force you to if he wanted to and this is him being nice. 

You hold your breath when he takes your wrist, waiting for whatever’s going to happen next. Jasper’s never had an easy time controlling himself around your blood. You’ve worked on it, but this is too much, too sudden and you can’t help but brace for more pain.

But the seconds tick by and…nothing. You peek an eye open slowly. The blond moves with practiced ease, checking your pulse, carefully examining the edges of the gash, as if the blood isn’t even there.

Something’s different. Everything’s different. How he holds himself, the way he dragged you up here, his voice. And his eyes. It’s hard to not stare at them. Their usual gold depths are dark as amber, still burning with something completely violent, bloody and crimson and unnervingly calm. 

You’ve never once seen Jasper like this.

“What’s going on Jazz?” You ask, voice pitching up.

The vampire pauses, hard gaze flickering up to yours. You almost flinch, instincts screaming at you that being at the center of this man’s attention is dangerous. It feels like any moment that rage could turn on you, like a wolf, bloody maw ready to clamp around your neck.

“Are you scared, darlin’?” His voice is a low rumble, softer than before, but still rough, dark.

Swallowing thickly, you look down at your hands, head spinning. He quickly covers the cut on your palm, careful not to touch it, but keeping it from your eyes, as if he knows the sight of blood makes you dizzy. It’s at odds with everything else about him right now and it makes you think that your Jasper must still be there somewhere. The worst of your nerves fizzle out.

“I don’t know,” you whisper eventually, and his eyes narrow, “I don’t- I don’t understand what’s going on, or why you’re acting different, but I don’t think you’re trying to scare me. So..so, no, I don’t want to be.”

The man hums, lips pursing into a thin line as he goes back to examining your palm, “No tellin’ if that’s foolishness or courage.”

“Maybe both.” Your voice is still shaking. Taking a deep breath, you try again with a different question, “So who are you? Cause I don’t think you’re Jasper, at least not completely.”

He doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, you watch as he steps back, disappearing into the bathroom for only a moment before reappearing with your first aid kit, the one you keep here for emergencies. With that same, practiced ease, the blond pulls out the supplies he needs and starts cleaning your wound.

“Most call me Major Whitlock.”

You hiss as he swipes alcohol over the cut. It stings almost as much as the wound itself, scattering your thoughts. The Major mumbles an apology, but doesn’t pause in his movements. It’s methodical, how he cleans it, applies some ointment, and then bandages it. Like he’s done it be-

Oh.

His words finally process in your mind. Major Whitlock. Jasper told you about him once, back when you first asked him about his scars. The man he was before you, before the Cullens. The man he had to be to deal with all that death. The Major.

“I never thought I’d meet you,” you murmur, all but forgetting your apprehension in the wave of curiosity that washes over you. 

“He never wanted you to,” the Major replies stiffly, taping off the wrap, “He’s scared I’ll hurt you.”

Brow furrowing, you glance down at your bandaged hand. It’s perfectly done and you can barely feel any more pain. Thanks to him.

“I can’t see why he’d think that,” you hum, head tilting, “You don’t seem all that dangerous to me.”

Wrong thing to say.

A sharp, unexpected tug on your wrist makes you squeak. The Major draws you flush to his chest, close enough that you can see the flecks of molten gold in his eyes and feel his cool breath against your face. It makes you freeze, hands trapped between your bodies, unable to do anything as he leans down, lips tauntingly close to yours.

“You shouldn’t be so naive, sugar,” he drawls, voice a low rasp. “You wouldn’t think so kindly of me if you knew what’s goin’ through my mind.”

Like how he wishes he had ripped the arms off the man downstairs for even thinking about touching you. Or how the scent of your blood makes him want to pin you against the wall and sink his teeth into your neck. He wants to know if you taste as cloyingly sweet as you smell. 

“I’m still not scared of you,” you whisper, blinking up at him with wide, doe-ish eyes, cheeks painted a tempting shade of red. “I know you won’t hurt me, Major.”

You trust him. He can feel it radiating from you, soft and warm and simple. It makes something violently possessive curl in the Major’s chest. You were right, after all. He would do anything to protect you, like a feral dog at your heel - loyal even if it killed him. He and Jasper could agree on that, as much as he might not want to admit it.

“You really are somethin’, sugar,” he muses, grip softening. There was no point in trying to scare you any further. You were a stubbornly sweet thing.

You offer him a shy smile, “Thank you. And thanks for saving me.”

The Major nods. “It was my pleasure.” 

He pauses, lips pursing. You watch as his gaze flickers over your face, something you can't pinpoint crossing his features. Then-

“Can I kiss you, sugar?”

You almost laugh. It’s a ridiculous question at this point, but it’s just so Jasper that you can’t help but grin. Guess he’s always been like this.

“If you want,” you hum.

And he does.

It’s not like any of the kisses you’ve shared before, not soft or gentle. Jasper has always been too scared of hurting you, but the Major holds onto you like a starving man. He pulls you impossibly closer, fingers threading through your hair to tilt your head just the right way. It’s hard and insistent but still achingly tender and perfect.

You’re left breathless when he pulls away. Not too far though. He rests his forehead against yours, taking the moment to focus on the sound of your heart and the comforting warmth of your touch. It softens the snarling creature that he’s meant to be.

You can feel the shift. The way his touch turns gentle, hands shifting to hold your jaw, thumb brushing over your cheeks. You can practically feel the concern that fills his gaze.

“Hey Jazz,” you breathe out softly.

He doesn’t respond. You glance up at him, amusement flickering in your chest at the perplexed look on his face. There’s your Jasper.

“I’m fine, Jazz,” you insist. It’s easy to tell exactly what he’s thinking. The vampire frowns, glancing at the bandage covering your hand. Right. You correct yourself, “I’m fine now. The Major saved me and bandaged me up. Good as new.”

You wiggle your fingers, just to show him. It stings a little, but not nearly as much as before. 

“He did a good job, almost as good as Carlisle!”

“He-” Jasper stops, swallows. “I didn’t hurt you?”

“No. Nothing happened.” You wrap your arms around his waist. It’s just like before. He holds himself stiff for a moment, fighting between the urge to relax or push you away to a safe distance. But he still can’t resist you. Not now. Not ever.

The tension drips from his shoulders. Jasper curls an arm around you, voice muffled as he tucks his face into your hair, “Sorry if I scared you, darlin’. I should’ve known that would happen. I just want you safe.”

“I know,” you hum, “And I wasn’t scared. Not really. Though, the Major sure has his own way of doing things. Charming guy, really.”

You can feel Jasper smile into your hair, “You really are something, darlin.”

“That’s what he said!”

---

You cannot convince me that the Major is not still a gentleman at his core! He's a bit rough from his time with Maria, but he was such a kind man before that. I will die on this hill.

Anyways! Hope you guys liked it! I might be a bit rusty, but feel free to send in requests! I'm excited to write for y'all again.