#twlight smut

[smuttyfantasyrecs]

Carlisle Cullen

🦋 first time 🦋 too much 🦋

@zmxchs

🦋 stressful 🦋 bed rest 🦋 dr. cullen 🦋 darkness is coming 🦋

@little-diable

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Amor Fati--Chapter 7: Fervor

Paul and Maelyn have been trying to keep their relationship under wraps, but it all comes out. Caveat: Neither is their imprint. How long can smooth sailing go on?

Paul Lahote x Black!Fem!OC.

CW: 18+ content (Smut) in this chapter. Penetration, riding, and oral described.

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The bells above the diner chime as the door opens. “Welcome to Shannon’s!” Maelyn calls out. She doesn’t fully turn away from the kitchen window, just enough so her voice carries and then she gets a solid grasp on the two plates for table four. A practiced reflex thanks to the two years she’s worked here. When she turns fully, Paul’s pulled up to the counter seating and grins as he leans across it on his elbows. The tiger’s eye necklace taps against his chest with the action. 

“Think Shannon will chase me out again this time,” he teases. 

“Only if you keep being handsome,” Maelyn laughs. 

Last week Paul was nearly unwilling to let Maelyn serve her tables. He’d come in trying to complete forms regarding the transfer of a title. His father wanted to pass down his old truck and Paul needed to sign the paper, but insisted he couldn’t until his lawyer looked over it. Apparently, Maelyn having no experience in law wasn’t enough of a deterrent when Paul approached her for an extra set of eyes to read over the form. He didn’t wait, of course, for her to be finished with her customers or done with her shift, before attempting to steal her away. Last week was her first week back to work at the diner after breaking her shoulder, so it’s not lost on her the way Paul might’ve also chosen to keep a close eye on her was to also make sure everything was fully healed. 

“Well, that part is just genetic,” Paul laughs. 

Maelyn’s already side stepping his grabby hands but she doesn’t mind it. “I’ll grab you a Pepsi in a second,” she promises, before locating the two kids at the booth. It looks like a first date to her. The boy is a tad shy, looking away every so often. But it doesn’t appear that the girl minds much as she seems to find a way to engage him again, asking about a biology test. 

“Wasn’t so bad,” he returns. “I think at least. But I like biology.”

“Oh, that’s cool. I’m not very good at it,” she laughs, eyes darting up to Maelyn. 

“No, no, I’m sure you’re great at it. What-what subject do you like?”

Maelyn slips the plates on the table, a chicken sandwich for the girl and a burger for the boy. ��Let me know if you guys need anything else or if something isn’t right, okay?”

They nod at the instruction, smiles crossing their face. “Thanks,” they chorus back to her. 

“You’re welcome.” Maelyn turns to head back to Paul, but catches the girl’s response to the earlier question, “I like math a lot. It just makes sense to me.”

Paul’s hunched over when Maelyn approaches. She slides a hand across his back, leaning onto his shoulder just to peer at his face for a moment. Maelyn wouldn’t classify Paul as clingy the last couple weeks. There was still an understanding if either one of them needed space, or when life dictated that they had to be apart for things, however rare the phenomenon occurred. Yet, she can’t help but notice the touches. Maelyn catches the extra glances, the times he’s asked her to stay over longer or spend the night. It’s all too easy to give to him, but it makes her wonder how deep the wounds actually go with Paul. 

If he needed reassurance, Maelyn could give him that. If he needed warmth, she’s sure she’d burn the earth to give him that. If he needed something to quench his third, she’d drain every river, lake, and ocean on the earth for it. 

“Still want that Pepsi?” she whispers to him. If Paul wanted or needed a Pepsi, she’d give him that too. 

“No, but I did want to give you this.” Paul spins just a little and Maelyn takes the step back to accommodate him. In his hand is a rectangular black box, velour by the feel when it caresses her upturned palm. Paul cracks it open and on a gold chain, with matching wire wrapping, is a cut of amethyst. The gemstone cut into a crescent moon. 

Maelyn’s heart thunders in her chest, a bit of it slowing now that she recognizes it’s a necklace and not something more. She’d thought about marrying Paul, but it was a future thought, something for them to get to eventually. “It’s beautiful,” she whispers. And it is, a mixture of various shades of purple are etched into the piece, the gold wrapping accenting the purple with a strong glint in the sun from the windows. 

“Good.” He motions for her to turn and she does, waiting for the tap of the stone to her chest. When it settles, the clasps in the back are secured, she takes hold of the gem into her fingers. The curve is smooth and the points are rounded so as to not cut anyone handling it, but the gem is solid in her grasp. 

“Thank you.” It cuts off Paul’s though, his mouth primed to say more. 

He nods, a shy smile taking over his face. “You’re welcome. Apparently, amethyst is good for calmness, and serenity or something. I figured after the absolute hellscape your life’s been recently, a little extra help in the calmness department couldn’t hurt. I noticed the name on my box and went back to the same lady, and luckily she had something.”

The tears are hot behind her eyes, stinging just a little but she swears to herself she won’t give into them. “I-I really appreciate it.”

“Of course, Mae. Anything I can do to help.”

And in the growing days, just as Paul doesn’t leave home without his necklace, Maelyn doesn’t leave without hers. A matching pair of moons tapping at their chests. A soft click as they kiss. A weight that reminds them of the other.  Maelyn had wanted Paul to be hers. In the way that she loved him, in the way that hopefully no one else would. And now, maybe she could be his in a way that no one else could be either. The matching set earns them jokes from the rest of the pack, but Maelyn spots between the bitter scowls on Leah’s face, a spark in her eyes. 

“Purple,” Leah declares, plopping down into the chair at Emily’s dining table. 

Maelyn looks up, pamphlets strewn out on the table in front of her as she attempts to plan. Paul will be coming by shortly--a informal pack meeting initiated by Sam--and after that Maelyn and Paul set aside dedicated time to discuss the future. How to get off the rez, when that might all happen. Less of course, the world decides to end again. But Leah’s declaration comes with very little warning, leaving Maelyn confused by the color’s mentioned. 

“What?” Maelyn laughs. 

Leah nods to the necklace around her neck. “For your wedding, I want my dress to be purple. I think orange handkerchiefs for the boys will be a nice touch to the brown suits to go with Paul’s necklace.”

Maelyn snorts. “Leah, I haven’t even thought about a wedding yet.”

“You don’t have to. Just hire me. I’ll give you the family and friends discounted rate.” She shrugs as she says it, like it’s the most logical thing in the world. And maybe it is in some ways. 

“I’ll keep that in mind, thanks.” 

“Schools?” Leah questions, eyes dropping down to the paper’s in front of her. 

“Yeah, deciding between the medical field or something in tech. Don’t really know which one yet.”

“You’re a whiz. Will be great in either one. But isn’t Rachel coming down here soon? Maybe you can talk to her.”

Maelyn nods. “Yeah, she is. I think I will talk to her about it. But I’m hoping to be more informed before she gets here.”

“Well, wherever you go, I’m visiting. So make space.” The sentiment is punctuated by her departure, heading now towards the kitchen island to grab a banana from the bowl. Not a warning, nor a threat, but a promise. One that Maelyn has every intention of ensuring Leah can see through. 

The meeting’s short, a re-assessment of borders, updates of which are sparse. There’s worry though, in all of them, that somehow the worse it is not over just yet. As if they’re all waiting for the other shoe to drop yet again. Sam’s warning for all them to stay alert echoes the sentiment that once was a quiet understatement. Even if the threat of the Volturi, and the newborn army had passed, Bella, Edward, and Jacob’s track record still proved to be enough to be wary of any sudden changes. 

The moment they’re dismissed, arms are slipping over Maelyn’s shoulders. She leans into the embrace. Paul’s still talking to Jared, some bet about who’s likely to land a job first between the two of them. It itches on Maelyn’s tongue that she hadn’t seen either one of them put in an application, but perhaps such a bet would light a fire under both their asses. Granted, getting a job right now is probably not the smartest move considering that things could change on a dime’s notice. But the motivation could still be a good thing.

“Yeah, okay, we’ll see. But I don’t think any place would be desperate enough to hire the likes of you,” Paul teases. 

The ribbing only lasts another minute or so before he squeezes at Maelyn’s shoulders. “Ready?” he asks. 

“As ever,” comes the reply and the pair excuse themselves, Maelyn promising over her shoulder to Emily that she’ll be back Friday for the ritual hair cut. 

“Do not spend all night cooking,” Emily returns. Like always. And like always Maelyn intends to not listen. “Seriously, Maelyn, there’s a beach day Friday. We’re grilling!”

“Shit, you’re so right. Got it, no cooking,” Maelyn laughs. That part had slipped her mind momentarily. However, she’ll still make sure to bring some extras—food, plates, trash bags, cups, drinks— and it’s surely going to earn her hell. Not that it matters at all. It’s not enough to stop Maelyn. 

She continues down the porch to Paul, who’s grinning as he leans against the truck. It’s the one he’s driven for a while. The blue’s rusted in a couple places, but the bones are still solid and good. “You drove here today?” Maelyn grins. 

“It’s the first drive with the truck as officially mine. Took Dad forever to get up to the DMV to finalize the paperwork.” The words fall hot and clipped from Paul’s mouth, but Maelyn’s just glad the paperwork did eventually get taken care of. But more and more, these instances of Paul’s dad not being as sharp or as aware are bleeding through. It’s a silent exchange. Paul doesn’t bring it up much and Maelyn doesn’t push it. But she still tries to find ways to help, a meal when she has the time to cook for them, a good cleaning of whatever room she can manage while Paul’s napping and she’s at the house. Though Paul insists she doesn’t have to, she still does. 

“Congratulations,” Maelyn states.

 Paul cracks open the passenger door for her and she slips inside easily. “Thanks,” he smiles. 

Paul pulls forward up in the yard before cutting into a tight U-turn and they begin the ascent back up towards the road. He reaches over once they’re up off the incline and cruising, to rest his hand on her knee, she shifts into the reach, pushing her knee in closer. A steady presence. “That’s a lot of paper in your hands,” Paul notes. 

“Information on a couple different schools,” Maelyn returns. She’d gone into town to get them when going with her dad to have his eyes checked. He’d been complaining that only one of them was dry and constantly watery. So Maelyn took him to the eye doctor’s office and while he was being looked out, she went to the public library to get any information they had on local and out of state schools. 

“Still debating medicine or tech?”

“Yeah. I promised Jake I’d hang out with him and Rachel when she comes into town so I’ll talk to her about it some more too, to spare you.”

“I’m all ears too, always.”

“I know. But I’m sure it gets boring after a while.” Maelyn could listen to Paul talk about anything, even if he yammered on about things she couldn’t keep up with in the slightest. But when he talked about something he cared about, his face lit up and she wanted him to always feel that happy, that heard and cared for, no matter what. She didn’t think Paul cared to hear much more about her dilemma. She’s leaning medicine, but she can’t let the technology part go. The world fascinates and it feels incomplete to leave it behind.

Paul scoffs. His squeeze at her knee is short, but still reassuring. “It’s not boring. Not when it’s you. What if you sort of combined them though? Is that an option?”

“I guess so. But I’m not sure.”

“Pop open the glove box,” Paul encourages. He slows to take the turn into the driveway of his place. Maelyn doesn’t need to be twice and when she does more pamphlets stare back up at her. She shifts through, a couple on top are auto tech programs and one about an electrician apprenticeship but underneath are a couple for medical technology specialists. “They may not be up your alley, but I figured you could at least read up on them.”

“When did you do this?” Maelyn asks, staring down at all the pamphlets. The better question might be why did Paul do this? What was he planning? 

“Same day I got your necklace. I’ve been thinking,” Paul starts as he puts the car into park. Her heart races, beating at her ribs at his slow start. Thinking is a good sign, or at least she hopes it is. “I don’t know how much more of this Edward-Bella-Jacob thing is going to impact us, but I’d really like to get away with you. Now I’m not saying I know exactly what that looks like. I just know that I do. I was thinking about picking up a trade. I’m halfway decent with my hands. Does that sound like a good place to start?”

Maelyn shakes her head with a tiny laugh. Only her. Only Paul would find himself in a position to hedge such good news like this. But god, she wouldn’t want it any other way. “Paul, it sounds like a great place to start,” Maelyn returns. 

**************

Paul can’t say he’s really thinking at all when the words slip. The house was empty when they stepped through. They talked--mostly about the diner, and the pack-- but part of the conversation did steer into the future. That’s where the slippery slope for him began, he figures, when he was pressed up into Maelyn’s side, her arms wrapped around him and her nails scratching at his scalp. Though Paul always kept his wits about him in public with Maelyn, the second they’re alone he’s dying to find a small piece of heaven in her arms. She never teases him, never makes him feel strange for wanting to be coddled. Maelyn’s always welcoming, arms opening for him before he really even needs to ask and he always exhales when she does. 

That would be as good a place as any for the demise to begin. It’s not the kissing, not the pants into hot flesh, not the nips, not the laughter escaping them in small tufts at the gentle brushes along spines, and hips. That’s never really the beginning anyway. Paul knows he was fucked the second Maelyn pulled him up into her side. But he’s always been a bit of a sucker for her. He wouldn’t want it any other way. What would life be like if he didn’t have Maelyn?

Besides, the descent into uncharted waters stood no chance of slowing down when Maelyn whispered hot against his ear, ‘I love you.’

The first time in the forest after Maelyn took off post Edward unveiling which vampires exactly had attacked her mother had been the only other time they said the phrase to each other. I love you felt too weighty, too much like something that they couldn’t take back if they spoke it aloud, using their teeth and tongue to press the words out. It would be their undoing. Whatever they were keeping tucked away, whatever parts of themselves they still wanted to hide, would have to come to the surface. They’d have to be brought into the light. And they’re still much too young, still have much of their lives to live. But the weighty sentence is always right at the back of his throat, always waiting for the right moment to come up. 

“I love you.” 

There is no too, because there is no addition. Paul doesn’t love Maelyn on a conditional. He’d loved her even if she didn’t love him back. But even that sentence isn’t the brake. Even if I love you’s whispered during sex could be a brake, they wouldn’t be for Paul. Because even with the squeak of the frame, the headboard tap, tap, tap, tapping against the external facing wall, with the sweet exhales of Maelyn’s pleasure, Paul can only keep going. Paul can only keep the drive of his hips at a steady pace, which means his mind is steadily going too. 

Her pleasure gives him pleasure and he swears that if he had to die, he wouldn’t pick embarrassment, he’d pick Maelyn. But embarrassment may get to him first because Maelyn’s eyes are wide and he knows he fucked up at the second addition to his statement, “Gonna marry you one day.”

“You want to marry me?” she questions. Her hands haven’t left his side, instead they press down tighter, like she’s pulling him in so he can’t get away. 

Paul wouldn’t walk away, not from her, not unless he was made to. “Yea-yeah.” 

The gems clack as they brush. Paul’s holding himself up on his palms, but he can’t help the hot flash of shame. That is until Maelyn grins, pushing up to capture his lips in a kiss. It’s slow, but not hesitant. She kisses him like she always does, all confidence and a grin. Maybe he didn’t fuck this all up. 

As they part from the kiss, Paul can’t help but ask. He’d anticipated so much worse of a reaction. “You’re not weirded out by that?”

Maelyn laughs, hair brushing against the cotton pillowcase. “No, I’ve thought about it too.”

“You-you have?” Before Maelyn can finish the nod, Paul dips down again, lips pressed to hers. She laughs against his lips and it’s the sweetest sound, muffled but still amused. It’s light as it leaves her. Paul’s not sure what sound he adores more, her laughter or the sound she makes when she cums. 

But he’s always happy to produce both. 

The space between them feels even smaller now. Maelyn grazes her teeth over his shoulder, a hum falling from her as Paul continues to rock his hips into hers. “Fuck,” she whispers, the end cracking just a little. “Just, just like that.”

“Aye, captain.” It’s a ridiculous tease. Even Paul knows it, but he knows when she laughs, it’ll be even more worth it. 

“You,” Maelyn huffs, thought dying out for a groan when Paul pushes in a little harder than he had been before. 

“I know,” Paul whispers, kissing over her cheeks. But he also knows that at the very least, the future will be exceptionally bright. 

Her nose scrunches and he knows that her release is near. Though her mouth hangs open, no real words come out, just huff and grunt. “Oh, please,” he begs. “Say my name, okay? Just one time for me.”

The spasms quicken, the clench of her around him nearly makes him choke on his own tongue. “Paul,” she groans, “please don’t stop. Please, don’t.”

He wouldn’t dream of it, wouldn’t even dare like the thought enter his mind. Because who in their right mind wouldn’t want the sight of Maelyn undone by pleasure beneath them. Who would run away from an opportunity like that? She huffs his name out again. The last letters get sucked up by her orgasm, but he takes it. He’ll take whatever he can get from her, every ounce, every drop.  

Paul kisses at her open mouth and swallows down his own name off his lover’s tongue. The sweetest his name has ever tasted. 

The thing about Maelyn Paul should’ve known by now is that she’s not satisfied with just one. The moment her shakes settle, and her breathing returns, though his breathing is still rough, she settles on top his waist, knees pressed down into the mattress, her hands lightly pressing into his chest to hold only a tiny fraction of her weight. Her grin is soft, but Paul always knows what’s just beneath the surface. 

“Insatiable,” Paul laughs as Maelyn closes the distance, the press of her lips soft against his. 

“But you love it,” she laughs in return, pressing another kiss to his throat. 

“A lot,” Paul agrees. “I love you a lot,” he confesses. It’s easier this time, lighter. Doesn’t take as much effort, but doesn’t lose its gravity. 

“I like the way that sounds,” Maelyn purs against his throat. “Say it again for me.” 

“I love you.” 

“God,” she moans, hips sliding up his length. It stiffens between them. A shorter refractory period is always a godsend with Maelyn. “I love you,” she breathes in his skin. The words feel like they could brand him. They feel like they should. Like Paul wants them etched into his flesh forever. 

Paul’s less worried about messing something up, when he knows he can’t really go wrong. Like he knows the right push and pull of his fingers inside of Maelyn to make her writhe. He knows just how to take her body to the brink and how to bring it over the ledge over and and over again. A practiced attunement. Just like Maelyn knows the right pace and press of her hips. This--this right here is so fucking easy and it feels so good to get something right. 

It is perfect harmony, a rhythm that cannot be mistimed, or miscounted. Every up has its down and every down has its up, so perfectly aligned. Each punched out sigh met with encouragement. Paul’s not sure he can get a higher high than this, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t try. 

“You’ve got one more,” Paul encourages, fingers still curled into the depths of her. 

Her fists are full of the sheets, back arched so perfectly that Paul wants to kiss every rib he can see. “God, please, please,” she groans. 

“Just one more. C’mon, baby. I need it. God, I need it.” There’s the faint taste of taste that drops to his tongue as he kisses at her inner thighs. But it’s just what he needs. Besides Maelyn to cum one last time. 

“Baby, fuck, oh shit,” Maelyn grunts and he swears there’s more, but it dies on her tongue. 

She clenches down, spasming around his fingers and comes. Hard. He can hear when her breath catches back up, how the scream finally breaks through but only the tail end of it. A haggard sound before she sinks back into the mattress, but it’s music to Paul’s ears. He kisses up her body slow, taking his time to taste every inch of her, the left inner thigh, the right side of her pelvis, the left side of her belly button, the right side of her ribs, her left nipple suckled into his mouth, up and up until he kisses the tip of her nose. 

The smile he earns is soft and fleeting. “Let me know when you’re hungry,” Paul whispers. 

“I think that’s more for you than it is for me.”

“At least pretend like you care about me,” Paul laughs before pulling her body into his side. She nestles her head against his chest with little other prompting. 

The rattle of keys hits Paul’s ears. He’d heard the rumble of a truck but assumed it’d pass by. Maelyn pulls the sheets up higher around her. The escapades ended nearly half an hour ago. Though Paul felt good about his stamina, Maelyn always gave him a run for his money. What Paul assumed might be a one orgasm encounter for him and two for her, turned into a three orgasm encounter for Maelyn and two for him. There was no reason then to leave the bed, nor to redress at the time. Now as the keys shake in the door, they both reach to the floor for the respective clothing. 

Paul laughs, watching Maelyn all but tear the tank top to get it over her head. It leaves a few strands of her hand pushed up. Paul crawls over the bed, kneeling to help smooth the strands. “You look like you’ve been fucked, Jesus. Who did that to you?” he grins. 

Maelyn swats at his chest, and finally gets the button on her shorts through the hole. “I’m not sure. Said his name was Paul. Ever heard of him?”

“Can’t say I have. I’ll keep an eye out for him though.”

They settle back onto the bed, over the sheets and Paul grabs the electrician pamphlet from his nightstand. He grabs an information technology one for Maelyn and she settles in, head pressed into his shoulder. The boots are heavy over the hardwood floors.

 “Paul, Mae,” his father mutters in passing, hardly throwing them a second’s long glance. He stumbles for a moment into the nearby wall. The few wall hangings rattle just a little at the collision. 

“Je-okay,” Paul huffs, pushing up from the bed. Part of Paul wants to laugh it off, wants to pretend like this isn’t a normal occurrence. But as the weeks have started to pass, the drinking’s become more frequent. It used to be passable. Paul knew it was happening, and could smell it on his father as he passed from time to time. Yet, it hadn’t seemed dangerous at the time. Or like it could be there. There would be days between drinking episodes. 

 But now it’s blatant that Paul’s sure soon notices will start to appear. So far, Paul manages--helping people with odd jobs here and there. But if his father doesn’t get his act together it’s going to bite both their asses here soon. 

Paul loops his father’s arm over his shoulders. The alcohol of choice today, tequila by the smell, coats his father’s breath. “I can make it,” his father huffs. He attempts to shove Paul but fails before can even get his arms up. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m sure you can.”

“You still with Maelyn, huh?” The question falls in a grumble, syllables bashing up against each other as they fall out. 

“We’re not doing this,” Paul retorts, placing his dad onto the bed. There’s more shuffling from the front of the house, a cabinet opening and closing and then the rush of water. The sentiment is most likely the same and Paul’s not looking forward to a repeat. He was under the impression that his father understood not to cross this line, but sober agreements hold no weight in this drunken state. 

“She’s been around for almost a fucking year. Ain’t you tired?”

An almost year gone too fast, but Paul keeps that to himself and focuses on untying the boots on his father’s feet. “Dad, no. Maelyn’s important and you’re not going to start this. We’ve already talked about the way you talk about her.”

“I mean, a year, with the same girl. It’s definitely gotta get boring, fucking the same girl over and over again. They’re no good anyway. They’ll treat you all the same. Women always--” 

Another car wreck of syllables and sentiments coming to a screeching halt with one shout,  “Dad, no! Not about Maelyn! Never about her.”

There aren’t even tremors. Not yet, just the hot flash of what could be. He can feel a humming in his skin. It’s a warning, letting him know just how close he is to losing it, how he could cause a larger mess if he’s not careful. He doesn’t want to hurt his dad, not like that. Not in a hot flash he can’t take back, that would never be undone. 

Inhale, two, three. 

Exhale, two, three, four, five. 

Paul blinks back his vision clear. The thrumming of his skin presses hard like it wants to explode. But he can’t. Not here. Not here.  

Inhale, two, three. 

Exhale, two, three, four, five. The silence is thick. His father’s eyes wide now with an awareness that wasn’t there seconds ago. The thunk of the glass hitting the night stand echoes. The bottle rattles--undoubtedly Tylenol for the impending hangover. The sounds are all lingering around him but Paul only watches his father. “Do not ever, and I mean ever, talk about her like that again. I won’t ask again.” It comes out all through his teeth. 

His father nods.

“Baby, look at me, please.”

Paul draws his gaze from his father to Maelyn. The downturn of her eyes makes his chest crack. Her lips are pressed into a thin line. There’s a sting, the heat of something like anger and maybe concern painted into her irises. 

“Are you okay?” Maelyn asks. 

The question feels so out of place from her lips. Like he shouldn’t be the one being asked. Yet, he is the one being asked. “Are you okay?” he returns. 

“I’m okay. Do you need a second outside?”

The heat of his skin has dulled. His fingers ache, but thankfully there’s no tremors. “No, I think I’m okay. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m sure.” She says it so softly that he’s not even sure he’s heard the response. 

“I’m-I’m sorry, Maelyn,” it comes out fumbled from Paul’s father. 

“Take two,” she commands, nodding to the nightstand before exiting from the room. Paul can only stomach to watch his father finish the glass, the two red and white pills swallowed, before tearing himself from the bedroom. The clattering of dishes and cabinets leads Paul to Maelyn, where she resides now peering into the fridge. 

“I’m sorry about him,” Paul starts. Maelyn would surely be looking for an excuse to leave now, not that Paul would fault her. Paul tried to talk to his dad. He did talk to his dad. But the old man seemed to want nothing more than the bottle to drown sorrows in. “He’s not been the same, for a while. And that’s no excuse. But I am sorry. I-yeah, I’m sorry.”

“I appreciate the apology. Now, you do realize you’ve got everything in here for beef stew, right?”

Paul blinks. Not that he didn’t realize that--because he had. He’d purposefully gone and got the ingredients to attempt the recipe she wrote down for him. But he’s not sure why Maelyn’s focused on that. Not after what just happened. “You-- why are we talking about beef stew? Are we living in the same universe right now?”

“I’m not worried about what your father thinks. Whole rez knows he’s on a bender right now. Who I am concerned about is you.”

“Me?” It seems silly. Like he should be concerned about her, or consoling her. He closes the gap between them, easing the fridge door close as he does. “Baby, you don’t need to worry about me. I’m supposed to be worrying about you right now.”

“I’m going to. I’m always going to.”

Paul takes her face between his palms. Her eyes are a little glassy, but no tears have shed yet. “Is this what we do now? Worry about each other?”

“It would appear so,” she laughs, all mostly an exhale. 

“Are you sure you’re okay? He--he said something really inappropriate and I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t acknowledge that.”

Maelyn sighs, pulling in closer to Paul as she does. “I’m not his biggest fan right now. But I don’t think it’s malicious. At least, I hope not.”

“You’re kinder than I would be,” Paul murmurs into her hair. “And if you realize later you’re not as okay with it as you think, please let me know.”

“Okay.” A whispered promise into his chest. “Now, am I still teaching you how to make this beef stew or?”

“Yeah,” Paul grins. “I’m doing the cooking though. So you can’t commit arson as revenge and call it an accident.”

“I’d only think about it. I’d never actually do it.”

Paul doubts that the thought would cross her mind, but for the joke, he allows it. “And I know this isn’t the banana bread thing, but,” Paul starts turning to the pantry. There on the back of the door on a hook rests the Kiss the Cook apron he promised. He managed to snag one at the thrift store when looking to replace a few t-shirts he shredded. He peels it off and threads his head through the loop. 

Maelyn’s laughter hits the hair sharply, a bark of a laugh as if she can’t believe it’s actually happening. 

“I know, I know,” Paul laughs, tying the strings around his waist. “Get a picture now. I’m quite handsome. But this will not happen again.”

“Where’s the disposable camera at? Because I will get a picture. You’ll be explaining this one for years to come.”

Maelyn digs out the camera, at Paul’s directive from the junk drawer, shockingly with film still inside of it and snaps the picture of Paul standing next to the counter. He’s not sure how to poise, so he settles for gesturing to the apron as the camera flashes. He’s not sure what other photos exist on that roll, what else he might discover once he goes to have the film developed, but he’s hopeful that there’s many more memories to come with Maelyn, more stories to tell children and grandchildren eventually. He’ll have to make sure he brings the camera Friday, and try to use up whatever else remains. 

“Alright, alright,” Paul grumbles when the flash goes off again. 

“Sorry, had to! But stew.”

“Yes, yes, stew.” Her instructions are clear, how high heat needs to be, which veggies need to be dropped in and when. The pot in front of them grows hotter, just enough to make the air wispy but not heavy. “I’m proud of you,” Maelyn starts. She hands over the collection of spices and seasonings needed for the dish. When he glances up, her eyes are trained on him. 

“I can cook, you know,” he laughs. 

“I mean about earlier, keeping your cool with your dad. Not phasing.” 

His cheeks warm. Her gaze is sincere and he knows she means it. But he hadn’t had someone say those words in so long, he wasn’t sure they were real anymore. Until now. Until Maelyn’s said them. “Thank you.” He does want to get better at it. Wants to actually be able to get off the reservation and turning into a wolf at every slight wasn’t the way to do it. It’s not always easy, but it feels a bit more worth his efforts after her recognition. 

“Two tablespoons,” Maelyn instructs when Paul holds up the first seasoning. She runs her fingers over the short cropped hair and pressed a kiss to his cheek before her teeth gently graze over the flesh. “I hope you’re proud of yourself too.”

[gremlinmodetweeker]

omg i didn't expect a fic??? and it's so cute???? and getting to witness firsthand his social awkwardness complete with security being called....bby...

i could also see him texting you throughout the day if he does want to say something....or if he's having trouble sleeping he'll write you a little email, telling you his favorite part of the day, or something your rambling made him think of

i didn't mean omegaverse!konig (though he seems very omega to me???) i meant that one of the things i would talk to him about would be that omegaverse as we know it started in the Supernatural fandom. he's not going to tell me to stop talking!

you also posted something about him loving reading...so he's also going to get the Fifty Shades is Twilight Fanfiction speech.

now i'm thinking about him writing you or sending you stuff when he wants to get more physical in your relationship...he'll write about your blorbos cuddling before he works up the nerve to ask you for a snuggle. he's on deployment and he's writing you smut. write him some hurt/comfort with a blorbo that is clearly him and he's a goner

(no pressure to do anything with this! just wanted to share the brainworms and got a little rambly :)))

tw: some allusions to sexual content, NSFW MDNI 18+

Okay I’m finally getting to this, and I (mostly) agree! I have many thoughts on this. Like, wouldn’t he be the type to write little notes for you to find around the house? I totally think he would. He is absolutely that type. Like, imagine finding little sticky notes in your lunches and reading them at work? Finding little sheets tacked to a shelf telling you that he used up the last of the cereal so he’s gone to get more. Or or or imagine that he’s angry about something and he just texts you paragraphs going on about how his soldiers are idiots and nobody understands him and he wants to strangle someone but he can’t so he just stands there angrily and it scares everyone. He keeps texting you that everyone seems scared of him and he doesn’t know why so you have to tell him to take a deep breath and relax, and not five minutes later he texts you saying that things are better but he doesn’t know why people are nicer now. You still can’t really explain how scary he is, so you just have to play it off.

On another note,  I see König as a total literature snob, so I think you’d unleash a monster if you talk to him about Twlight and 50 Shades. That’s the Pandora’s box of König. He doesn’t talk, but then that one thing comes up and he goes off. Like sure, he’s quiet, but he has these moments where he is the best conversation partner ever. He’ll talk as much as you let him, and he’ll listen to your every word. He is a very active participant in that conversation. He has many words about Stephanie Meyers, too. He is very passionate about the subject. Is it slightly incredible to see such a reserved man become so passionate about teen literature’s affects on how young men and women form relationships in adulthood? Yes absolutely. He also has very good points. It’s kinda wild until you realize that when he’s deployed, his ‘downtime’ (a laughable concept when deployed but we’ll work with it) he’s reading whatever he can get his hands on. He’s a reading monster. But also this makes him a snob so be weary of that.

Oh, and in terms of omegaverse, it would be so awkward to explain it at first. He just would not get it in the beginning. He would sit and watch you silently, squinting until he eventually wraps his head around it. After that he will very happily listen. Hell, if you need ideas and help for your fanfic, he’ll be right there as your editor. Like, he’ll be right there for you. All the time. Sometimes he’ll urge you to write more just so he can read more. He’s that interested. It’s nice, and also very helpful.

Discussions of smut under the cut

Finally, yes he would write smut. It’s so funny because when he writes, it’s passionate and intense. It’s all encompassing and overwhelming and they get you so excited for him to return only for him to be kinda… Soft. He’s not great at dirty talk. Really bad, actually. Like, he can talk a big game, but when it comes down to it? Not so great. He tries though. He’s getting better! But he keeps trying to wax poetic when you just want him to call you his little whore? Like, I don’t want to be compared to a mourning dove in may, I want to be called your cum slut, thank you. That’s how bad he is. But he is getting better. He’s so confused though. He doesn’t understand why you actually want him to call you that. Sure he can write those letters that get you all riled up, but in person? Wouldn’t you want him to be soft and sweet? No? Well, he can accommodate. 

He’s a big sweety all in all. Like, he’s a military man. He’s not an uwu soft boy, but he knows how to write and he’s romantic in how he leaves little notes. He’s a stoic man who will nod along when you speak and give an occasional affirmative nod or polite question. When you get onto his topics of interest, he’ll be quite animated but still controlled, ever the good colonel. However, get him on the subject of Teen Lit and he turns into a monster because he thinks it’s damaging young readers. Not the porn part, but writing really bad love interests. He does have a point. Dark fiction is very important, but teaching young girls that Edward was the correct love interest was a mistake. And then it led to 50 Shades? Ugh it got even worse.

Anyways, thank you so much for the ask, and I hope you take care! Please remember my asks are always open!

[cakeawake]

Veins of Twlight

⚠️Disclaimer⚠️

This story contains explicit content, including smut and yandere behavior. Please remember that this is a work of fiction, and I do not condone any of these actions in real life. If you or someone you know is in a similar situation, please seek help immediately. If these themes make you uncomfortable, I advise against reading further. With that said, enjoy the story!!

⚠️Disclaimer⚠️

Trigger warnings for this chapter: Non consensual watching, male masturbation, non consensual touching (let me know if I missed any or need to anything to this list)

Chapter Three:

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves, but something about the air feels heavier now, like the weight of the town itself is pressing down on you. When you look up, you realize with a start that the sun is setting, casting long, stretching shadows across the pavement. A thick fog has begun to roll in, swirling at your feet, and with it comes a biting chill that seeps into your bones. You shiver, wrapping your arms around yourself as you take a hesitant step forward. 

You need to get back. 

Turning in what you think is the direction you came from, you start walking, your pace brisk but uncertain. The fog thickens, clinging to the air like something alive, and with each step, the town around you grows darker. Buildings blur together, their edges softened by the mist, and the further you go, the less familiar anything looks. 

Your frown deepens. 

This town isn't that big. You'd driven through it the night before—it took maybe ten minutes, at most. There's no way you should be this turned around. No way you should feel lost.

Yet the library is nowhere in sight. Neither is the inn. 

The streets stretch on, endless and unfamiliar, as if the town itself is shifting around you, rearranging itself in ways that don't make sense. The air feels heavier with each passing second, thick with dampness and something unseen that prickles at the edges of your awareness. 

Then—you see them. 

Two figures in the distance, shrouded in shadow, standing eerily still at the edge of the woods. They linger at the mouth of a dirt driveway that snakes up a hill, disappearing into darkness. Their presence is unsettling, yet you can't look away. 

The more you stare, the stranger they seem. They don't move, don't shift—don't even seem to breathe. And yet, there's something wrong. The shapes of their bodies, the way they stand—it's too identical. The same height, the same posture, the same eerie stillness. It's like looking at a mirrored image, a duplication of a person where there shouldn't be one. 

Your pulse quickens as you squint, trying to see their faces, to make out what they are— 

But before you can, the fog surges forward, thick and suffocating, swallowing them whole. 

The world around you blurs, your vision clouded by the dense mist, and for a moment, there is nothing. No figures, no trees, no street beneath your feet—just a vast, disorienting emptiness. 

Then— 

The fog thins. 

And the woods are gone. 

Blinking rapidly, you whirl around, your heart pounding. The dirt driveway, the looming trees, the shadowed figures—none of it is there. Instead, you're standing directly in front of the inn. 

The warm glow of the front windows spills onto the porch, familiar and welcoming, yet your skin is crawling. You don't remember walking here. You don't remember turning in this direction. 

One moment, you were lost. 

The next, the town had decided to put you exactly where it wanted you to be. 

You stand there, disoriented and confused, your breath coming in uneven puffs of cold air. The quiet hum of the town feels different now, charged with something unseen, something watching. You don't know how you got here, but the eerie sensation of being placed rather than having arrived lingers deep in your chest. 

Then, without warning, the door to the inn slams open. 

You jolt, your wide eyes snapping toward the entrance as a figure steps into the doorway. The dim glow from inside spills over him, casting long shadows on the porch. It takes you a second to process who you're looking at—Zayan, the inn's landlord. 

His ever-present grin stretches across his face, unfazed by the cold or the oddity of you standing frozen in place outside. "What are you doing standing out here in the cold?" he exclaims, his voice warm but edged with something unreadable. "Come inside, come inside!" 

He waves you in, stepping aside, but there's something about the way he's looking at you—like he expected you to be here. Like he knew exactly where you'd end up. 

You slowly walk toward the inn, each step feeling heavier than the last. The warmth spilling from inside is inviting, but the weight of what just happened clings to you, refusing to be shaken off. As you cross the threshold, you can't help but glance back—once, twice—peering into the darkness, half-expecting to see something lurking just beyond the glow of the inn's lights. A shadow, a figure, those eerie glowing eyes from before. 

But there's nothing. 

Just the empty street, swallowed by fog and night. 

With a quiet click, the door swings shut behind you, sealing out the cold. You flinch slightly at the sound, your nerves still frayed, but when you turn, Zayan is there, smiling. 

That same wide, unwavering smile. 

"Much better," he says, rubbing his hands together as if he's the one shaking off the chill. "No need to linger out there in the dark. This town has a way of... pulling people in if they're not careful." 

His eyes gleam with something you can't quite place, and for a moment, you're not sure if he means that as a warning or a simple observation.

Zayan doesn't move right away. He just lingers, watching you with that same unwavering grin, his sharp teeth almost too white in the dim inn lighting. His eyes glint with something unreadable, and the longer he stares, the more unsettled you become. 

You shift on your feet, the weight of his gaze pressing against you like an invisible hand. It's clear he wants to say something, but for whatever reason, he won't just say it.

"Is there something else you needed?" you finally ask, hoping to break the strange tension. 

"Oh! I thought you'd never ask!" Zayan exclaims, his voice as bright and cheerful as ever, as if he'd just been waiting for your cue. "Why don't you come to my office and help me out with some paperwork?" 

It's worded like an offer, but there's something about the way he says it—the slight tilt of his head, the way his grin doesn't quite reach his eyes—that makes it feel more like a test. Like he's expecting you to refuse. 

You hesitate for only a second. You are staying here for free, after all, and you did promise to help out. 

"Sure, lead the way," you say, keeping your voice neutral, even if you're not particularly excited about spending more time with him. 

Zayan's grin widens—somehow. 

"Wonderful," he says, turning on his heel. "Follow me." 

As you trail behind him down the dimly lit hallway, you can't shake the feeling that you just agreed to something more than a little paperwork.

The moment you step inside, something about the room feels... off.

It's clean—almost too clean. Papers are scattered across the desk, but they don't look haphazard. They look placed, as if each sheet was positioned with careful intention. The air smells faintly of something you can't quite place—paper, ink, and a lingering trace of something sharper, something unfamiliar. 

The heavy curtains are drawn tightly shut, thick fabric blocking out any hint of the outside world. It should make the room dim, but somehow, the chandelier above burns too brightly, casting sharp, unnatural shadows that don't quite sit right against the walls. 

Zayan holds the door open for you with an exaggerated flourish, his grin still ever-present. But when he steps in behind you, there's a quiet click.

Your stomach tightens. 

You turn slightly, about to ask why he locked the door, but before you can, his hand presses gently against the small of your back, guiding you forward. 

"Just for privacy," he murmurs, voice smooth, punctuated by a playful wink. 

You swallow hard, unsure if the shiver running down your spine is from discomfort or something deeper—something instinctual. But you say nothing as you lower yourself into the large chair in front of his desk. 

Zayan doesn't sit. 

Instead, he stands over you, looming, his presence unnervingly close. Every time he reaches for a paper, he leans in further, until the sharp tip of his nose barely brushes against your head. You can feel his breath against your hair, slow and steady, as if he's deliberately taking his time.

Zayan hums as he slides a stack of papers in front of you, the edges crisp and unnervingly pristine. "Just some basic record-keeping," he says lightly, tapping a clawed finger against the top sheet. "Payment logs, guest information—the usual." 

You glance down, scanning the neatly written names, dates, and room numbers. A flicker of unease prickles at the back of your mind. Should you even be looking at this? This seems like the kind of information that should be private. But before the thought can fully settle, you wave it off. You're only helping, right? 

Still, your grip on the pen tightens as you force yourself to focus. 

Then, you hear it. 

A sharp inhale. 

Your entire body stiffens as you realize—Zayan is smelling you.

It's subtle at first, almost too quiet to notice, but now that you're aware of it, you can't ignore it. The deep, slow drags of breath just above your head. The way the air shifts ever so slightly as he leans in closer. 

You don't move. You don't react. You don't even know how to react. 

Instead, you stare at the paper, willing yourself to focus, willing the moment to pass. But it doesn't. 

His breathing grows heavier. 

The pen in your hand trembles slightly as you try to steady yourself, to ignore the way every nerve in your body is screaming at you to do something.

But what, exactly? 

For a while, Zayan does nothing but breathe. 

Slow, deliberate inhales, each one dragging in the scent of your skin as if he's savoring it. The sound of it is deafening in the otherwise silent room, each breath sending an icy prickle down your spine. You grip the pen tighter, trying to ignore the way your hands tremble over the paperwork. 

But then—he moves. 

At first, it's subtle. His presence shifts, his breath no longer just near you but on you, ghosting over the sensitive skin near your ear. Your shoulders tense, every muscle in your body locking up, but he doesn't stop. 

Then, something even worse. 

The slow, deliberate press of lips against your neck. 

Your breath stutters. A cold wave of dread crashes through you, freezing you in place as he plants another kiss—this time lower, just above your collarbone. His lips linger for a beat too long before moving again, trailing downward with sickening patience. 

You're shaking now. Not just from fear, but from the sheer wrongness of it all. 

And the worst part? You can feel it—how much he's enjoying this. 

Zayan doesn't just sense your fear—he's thriving on it. Every hesitant breath you take, every tremor in your hands, every slight flinch—it's like fuel to him. You can practically hear the satisfaction in the way he exhales, the hum of amusement vibrating against your skin. 

Your instincts scream at you to *move*, to *do something*, but it's as if you're trapped, caught in the tension of the moment, unsure of what would happen if you push back. 

And Zayan? 

He's waiting. 

Because this isn't just about what he wants. 

It's about seeing what you'll do.

Your mind reels, panic clawing at the edges of your thoughts. Every nerve in your body is screaming, your skin crawling beneath Zayan's touch. The room feels too small, the air too thick, and for a terrifying moment, you wonder if you'll even be able to move—if your body will listen to you at all. 

Then, without fully thinking, you slam your hands down onto the desk. The sharp sound echoes through the room, making even you flinch. Your breath is uneven, your heart hammering in your chest, but you force your voice to come out steady. 

"Stop touching me." 

It's not a plea. It's a demand. 

Zayan doesn't pull away immediately. If anything, you feel his smirk before you see it—the way his lips curl against your skin, his breath hitching in what sounds like amusement. His posture doesn't change, his presence still looming over you, but there's a new energy now, a shift in the air. 

Slowly, he leans back, though not by much. 

"You wound me," he murmurs, his voice dripping with mock hurt. "So tense. So afraid." 

His eyes gleam as he watches you, as if he's taking in every detail—your stiff posture, your clenched fists, the way your chest rises and falls a little too quickly. 

"But," he finally sighs, stepping back fully, giving you just enough space to breathe, "if that's what you really want..." 

His grin widens, sharp and knowing. 

You don't trust that look. Not for a second.

"I trust you can finish your paperwork on your own," you say, your voice colder than before. You push away from the desk, your pulse still racing, and storm toward the door. 

Your hand grips the knob, ready to make a dramatic exit—only for it to refuse to turn. 

You freeze. 

The lock. 

Your frown deepens as you reach down, fingers fumbling slightly as you flip it open. For a tense second, you hesitate, expecting—no, *bracing*—for Zayan to stop you. Maybe another touch, another word, maybe even just a shift in his stance to block your way. 

But nothing comes. 

When you glance back, he's exactly where you left him, standing behind the desk, that ever-present smirk still stretched across his face. He watches you with a lazy amusement, eyes glinting in a way that makes your stomach twist. 

He wanted you to run. 

The realization sends another shiver down your spine, but you don't stick around to dwell on it. The door swings open, and you all but rush out, your footsteps echoing through the dim hallway as you make a beeline for your room. 

You don't stop. 

Not until you're inside, the door shut and locked behind you, your back pressed against the wood as you try to steady your breathing. 

Even then, you swear you can still feel his gaze.

The rich scent of leather and the faint aroma of sandalwood filled the air as Zayan pushed aside the disguised panel, revealing a room bathed in a soft, seductive glow from the screens that lined the walls. He stepped in, the plush carpet muffling his footsteps, and his eyes immediately fell on the luxurious couch that beckoned him closer.

The screens lining the walls flickered to life, bathing the dimly lit office in a cold, bluish glow. Images flashed across them—empty hallways, the front desk, the quiet streets outside. With a slow, deliberate flick of his wrist, Zayan navigated through the feeds, his fingers dancing over the controls with practiced ease. One by one, the images shifted until he found what he was looking for. 

Your room. 

A slow, satisfied smile crept across his lips as he leaned back in his chair, his sharp eyes drinking in the sight before him. There you were, pressed against the door, your breath still uneven, your posture stiff with lingering fear. Perfect.

His anticipation swelled as he watched you, utterly unaware of his gaze. The way your fingers trembled slightly, the way your shoulders heaved with every deep inhale as you tried to calm yourself—it was fascinating. Delicious, even.

Zayan settled onto the couch with a self-satisfied grin, his body sinking into the soft cushions that enveloped him. He reached for the zipper of his fitted pants, the leather of his belt making a soft sound as it slipped through the loops. With a deliberate motion, he released his erection, its tip glistening with anticipation, and paused to caress the smooth shaft, feeling it throb under his touch. The veins stood out prominently, mapping a path of longing along his length.

As he gazed at your image, his hand began to move with intention, alternating between a firm grip and a gentle caress, creating a rhythm that matched the quickening beat of his heart. Each stroke drew a low groan from deep within him, the sound resonating in the softly lit room. The warmth of his hand contrasted sharply with the cool air that brushed against his sensitive skin, sending waves of pleasure coursing through him.

Leaning back, Zayan let his thoughts drift back to that moment in his office. He recalled how you quivered beneath him, your breath hitching in shallow, erratic bursts. Your hands balled into fists, caught in a struggle between fight and flight. Disgust. Fear. Two raw emotions, so palpable, yet you remained. You hesitated, even as every instinct urged you to flee.

Why?

The question sparked a flicker of amusement within him, a smirk playing on his lips. Did a part of you want to discover what would unfold if you stayed? Were you pushing your boundaries—or perhaps testing his?

The mere thought sent a thrill racing through him.

He shifts forward in his seat as his eyes lazily drift back to the monitors. Just in time to see you move.

You've finally pushed away from the door, no longer frozen in place. He watches as you cross the room, your steps hesitant but determined, making your way to the large closet on the far wall.

As you step inside the closet to change into more comfortable sleepwear, Zayan's eyes are glued to the screen, his hand quickening its rhythm around his cock. He can't resist leaning in closer to the monitor wanting to get closer to you.

He takes in every exposed inch of your skin, his gaze sweeping across your body. A smile creeps onto his face, fueled by the realization that you remain blissfully unaware of his watchful eyes.

His grip tightens around his shaft, the friction sending a jolt of pleasure through him. His breathing quickens, his chest rising and falling in time with his strokes. He closes his eyes, surrendering to the sensation.

It doesn't take long for his climax to build, his body tensing as the pressure grows. When it finally breaks, it's like a dam bursting, the flood of release washing over him. He cries out, his hips bucking involuntarily, the sound of his voice echoing off the walls of his chamber.

It's not enough, he thinks, as the rush of adrenaline subsides. It's never enough.

He needs to be there with you.

[destiny-in-the-universe]

Account Updates + More!

Greetings, everyone! Okay, so I decided to make some changes to the blog-

I will still be posting my regular content, but apparently my dumb of ass decided they want to try something new- I want to extend the hand of inspiration to @aster-saturn because I am but a simple pup; what I do mean is I want to create content for c.AI bots - as well as canon x reader asks for interested parties! For the x Readers, this also includes any specific headcanons you might want for canon characters as well! I'm down for accepting, well, almost anything-

To keep things organized, I'll list some of the regulations and guidelines for sending me asks!

a. be respectful. this is self explanatory, but i do have a life outside of tumblr and can't always be responding to asks; i will still do my best to answer as quickly as i can since i tend to come on at night anyway!

b. i do utilize a lot of self indulgent headcanons while still sticking true with their personalities as best i can (unless i feel this needs to be expanded upon). due to this, i am asking that you don't take my interpretations to be 'canon' as this is all just for fun

c. asks must remain sfw- while i do occasionally reblog some adult-themed content, this will not be applied to requests. this is mostly for my own safety and the comfort of others

d. you can request practically anything- from x reader asks about imagined romantic scenarios or you can also just ask for generic scenarios and/or headcanons for canons without needing to be about x reader!

e. in general, this page accepts self inserts and original characters - hence x reader asks! - so, if you don't support that- i have no idea why you're here-

f. c.AI bots can be a little suggestive, but i do ask that you're at least eighteen or older- if your blog doesn't have a way of confirming age, well, the ask might have to change

What kind of asks will I be accepting?

~ For starters, I accept anything from angst to lighthearted romcom tropes! I do lean a bit to angst but honestly anything is fine with me! The only exceptions are if it's heavy on the smut side or is something I would be uncomfortable with

~ For x Reader, it can be virtually any imagined scenario from fluff to angst and anything in between. I do highly ask that you don't send scenarios about characters cheating on one another as that makes me severely uncomfortable

~ Headcanons! This gives me a way to just freely infodump and depending on what is being shared, they may be debuting as official headcanons in my fanfics!

~ I only do fandom characters! Please do not send me anything to do with the actors; only their character selves

~ Requesting Alternate Universes and Crossovers is perfectly acceptable! Canon is also accepted, but please specify which version you want when sending in the requests!

Muses

*Anything tagged with ⭐️ is my most active hyperfixations and what I might feel more comfortable writing! Though I will make a separate post with a longer list of all of my muses!

TV SHOWS (Cartoons / Other)

⭐️ Randy Cunningham: 9th Grade Ninja

~ Randy Cunningham

~ First Ninja

⭐️ Danny Phantom

~ Danny Fenton / Phantom

She-Ra: Princesses of Power

~ Adora / She-Ra

~ Catra

Once Upon a Time

~ Rumplestiltskin / Mr. Gold

The Owl House

~ Luz Noceda

⭐️ My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic

~ Twlight Sparkle

(Okay, this post is honestly getting massive- I am going to do something purely dedicated to exploring muses and whatnot in a different post; eventually, I might consider making something like a carrd but please be patient with me!)

[atlassuki]

Hello everyone! Im atlas! this is my new and improved blog!

This blog will be primarily focused on the female audience. I am mainly writing more to twilight, and harry potter.

Requests are MORE than welcome! Please send them in,

i will make series, head cannons, shorts, imagines, poems!

reminder this blog is 16+ since there will be gore, smut, ect. every post WILL have a TW.

RULES:

please be kind and respectful towards me, as i am still learning as i have been not interacting towards this app, so everything is still a learning curve.

Do not rush me in writing, i do also have a life outside of tumblr.

Do not force me to write things like;

pedophilia,

non con

m x m

LGBTQ

disabilities, autism, ect Not because i have a problem; because i don't have any of them, nor do i have anyone i know that has them, it would be incredibly inconsiderate for me to write about these, when have no knowledge and no will power to at the present moment to learn. Therefore, i will not be writing for these categories.

Yes this goes for, serious cases of mental illness; deep depression, schizophrenia, bpd, ect.

THINGS I WRITE FOR

MOVIES;

Twlight

Harry potter

Avatar

SERIES

teen wolf

ANIMES:

jujutsu kaisen

haikyuu

demon slayer

GAMES

avatar

THESE CATEGORIES WILL BE UPDATED!

thank you! enjoy my blog!!

[scarlettoceaneyes]

Hi do you write for all Twlight characters or just some?

The wolf pack are my favs, but I can try anything! Angst and fluff are my loves- I am not a smut writer for anyone wondering.

Thanks for asking 💕

[zmxchs]

I hope this is ok to ask for! Basically it's your first time with Carlisle! (Can be human or new vampire I don't mind!) It is your first time with everything even kissing, hickeys, org*sm etc. You are super nervous and Carlisle is the consent king. Hes super gentle and walks you through everything. Can add things like pinning against the wall 😉

First Time

Pairing: SoftDom!Carlisle x Inexperience!Reader

Warnings: virgin reader, soft sex fingering, praising, etc

Request: Yes. ^^Above in ask^^ @lillybearblog

Note**Has been re-written bc there has been claims that i copied another blog even though i did not**

You and Carlisle have been seeing each other for a little while now, you were inexperienced in everything when it came to a intimate relationship.

Yes, you have had one or two relationships now and then but none that got that far.

You were layed on Carlisle chest just basking in the quietness of the house. All of Carlisle's adopted children were out doing their own things, which doesnt happen often.

"Carlisle" you say breaking the silence. He hums in response.

"I think I am ready." You say looking up to him. He looks at you eye brow raised.

"Are you sure doll?" he asked slightly concerned, yet held a wanting for it as well. He couldn't deny that he thinks about intimate moments with you quite often. He always wants to ravish you, but he always stops himself, never wanted to make you feel uncomfrotable.

You sit up, sliding onto his lap, leading Carlisle to have to stiffle a groan. You were always able to turn him on, without even meaning it. With a slightly confident face nodding you head "Yes I'm sure."

Your gaze switches between his pretty brown eyes and his plush pink lips, the sudden need to taste again was surprising more intense in the situation. Carlisle, who always seems to know anything thats going on your mind, tilts your head up before and closes the distance between you, his lips capturing yours in a soft kiss.

You tasted like grapefruit and white wine. He tasted like blood and lemon. To taste that when it came to you two tasted amazing.

You feel like your head is spinning, your whole body stiffening from above, of course this kiss was different than the others you shared. All of a sudden your mind catches up with you and the thought of inexperience flooding your mind and so you quickly pull away from his soft touch, even though it's the last thing you wanted too do.

Kissing him was always something you loved but this time it also made you nervous

Carlisle seems concerned, looking up at you with his eyebrows slightly curved, questioning if your intents have changed, just by reading your actions. Of course if they had changed he would not contine, but would have to go take a cold shower.

"Im nervous Carl." You whimber out

"Shh, darling. It's okay.I promise. Im here to help you through everything" he says again running his thumb over your cheek until the fear in your slowly goes away.

You nod your head telling him he can contuine.

He flips you over gently so he is hovering over you. He tilts you head again for better access before he slowly closes the gap between your lips, kissing you just as gently as before, waiting for you to catch up on his movements.

You rest your on the bed not knowing were to put them while he snakes an arm around your waist to pull you closer, making you melt in his arms.

You soon realize how to move your lips against his to avoid clashing teeth and the kiss grow a bit hungrier. You find yourseld pressing yourself against his frame more prominently, begging for more stimulation.

He breaks the kiss and then he buries his face in the crook of your neck, leading kisses down your burning skin probaly leaving brusies. The new sensation making you body shiver and smalls moans leaving your mouth.

"Look at you, darling. So eager for my touch," he murmurs, before he sinks his teeth into your shoulder, biting you gently, making you whine out his name his fangs in you making the pleasure so much more intense, which only turns him more.

He keeps peppering your skin with kisses and nibbles, turning you into a puddle in his arms, your head tilted back to allow him more access as your fingers tug on his dark hair, spurring him on.

You feel the heavy warmth of arousal pool in your panties, filling your mind with the same want that's been tormenting you for a while, the need to let him have your way with you.

"Baby, please," you whimper arching your back into him, making him let out a soft grunt.

You can feel his erection rub against your thigh, a sign that he wants you, needs you, just as much as you need him.

"What do you want, baby?" He murmurs against the shell of your ear before sucking a soft mark right underneath it, forcing you to hold back a whine.

"Y-you. I want you, Carl," you let out, cupping both of his cheeks to bring his lips to yours, the taste of him on your tongue getting way too addictive.

He grunts against you, your actions surprising him, but he soon catches up with you, his hand running to the back of your thigh so he can hike it up, wrapping it around his waist, allowing him access to your dripping core. He immediately starts rocking his hips against yours, making you break the kiss with a moan as your head falls against his shoulder.

"Does it feel good, darling?" He asks and all you're able to do is nod, the delicious friction of his clothed cock against your sensitive clit turning you into a hot mess.

"Schatz please" you whine softly, grasping on his shoulders, bunching up his white shirt in your hands as if that could save you.

"Please what darling" he groans out

"M-more," you whisper, knowing that even though this feels amazing, it's not enough to make you cum.

He dreamed so much of having you like this, his to ruin, his to break and now he has you and it's better than he ever anticipated. He didn't know it would be so easy to get you so cock-drunk even before the real thing happened but here he is, with you on the palm of his hand, begging him for more. And that's exactly what he's about to give you.

"What exactly do you want, darling?" He asks, pulling your head from his shoulder gently to force you to look at him.

Your pupils are blown out, your lower lip puffy from how hard you've been biting on it, your body fluttering with every roll of his cock against your tender pussy, the sight alone making him groan out your name, his cock twitching in his pants.

"I- I want- f-fingers," you sigh out in defeat, sinking your nails into his back as you buckle your hips into his.

"Anything for you, my good girl," he murmurs, planting a kiss to your temple before he lets your head fall forward to rest on his shoulder again.

You whine at the small praise, delighted to be called his, which makes Carlisle smile softly as he sucks another mark to your exposed shoulder.

He slowly runs his fingers over your side and down over your tummy to the hem of your cute pink panties, tugging on the waistband and letting it hit your skin, making you whimper.

You're so fucking wet that he fails to suppress the groan that leaves him as he runs his digits over your slippery folds, making your breath hitch in your throat, your lower belly clenching.

"Baby, please," you whine and he tuts at you, pressing a kiss to the mark he left on your shoulder.

"Don't worry, baby," he mumbles, sliding his fingers between your folds, making you gasp.

He spreads your slick all the way to your puffy clit, pressing two fingers against it and he starts drawing lazy circles that make your eyes roll back into your skull as a whimper of his name leaves your lips. You struggle to to keep your legs spread wide on the bed, you were already sinking into the bed.

"You like that, baby?" He asks, picking up a bit quicker pace that turns your body into mush.

You moan, nodding your head softly as you claw on his shoulders, the knot in your abdomen slowly tightening as a promise of an orgasm that sends shivers of excitement through your entire body.

"I- I- Carl," you whine, slowly rolling your hips against him to chase the building pleasure, making him chuckle.

His sweet girl is all cock drunk on already

"What, darling? Are you gonna cum?" He asks, quickening his movements, making your head fall back, your lips parting in bliss as you still cling to him for dear life.

"In-inside. I wanna- wanna feel y-you," you manage to put together, your voice breathy and high as your body trembles with pleasure.

He slides his fingers from your swollen clit to your wet hole, not hesitating a second before he pushes one finger inside. He curls it against your warm walls, while he keeps rolling your clit underneath his thumb. His fingers are so much thicker than yours, making you already feel full as your pussy clenches on him.

"Fuck," He breaths out, panting at how much he's trying to stop himself from rubbing his cock against your thigh but you're so freaking soft and warm and tight, making him painfully hard.

Arching your back as he strokes especially good spot inside of you, making you moan. He groans, attaching his lips to the crook of your neck to add more marks to those that already paint your skin. You whimper, thrusting your hips against his hand, making him grunt.

He slips another finger inside of you, stretching you out, making you whine, your pussy griping him, eliciting a curse from his lips.

“That’s it, baby,” he mumbles as he starts thrusting his digits in and out of you, making your thighs tremble, your toes curling as the pleasure in your lower belly growing, ready to burst.

“I- I’m close, schatz” you whisper, arching your back into him as he keeps abusing that sweet spot deep inside you that makes you see stars.

“Cum for me, darling” He asks, his heavy hot breath dancing over your collarbone and you nod with a hum, sinking your fingers into his soft hair.

All it takes are a few more strokes and you’re coming on his fingers, your pussy clamping down on him as you ride out your high, head leaned back and lips parted as you chant his name. He watches you with adoration.

He only stops once you whimper in over-sensitivity, pushing his hand away softly and so he takes his fingers out of you before bringing them to his mouth and licking them clean, all while keeping an eye contact with you, your eyes widening at his actions.

“So sweet, baby,” he hums in appreciation, giving you a bright smile before leaning closer to kiss you softly.

You’re still on cloud nine. You reciprocate the kiss gently, still clinging to him for support even as he leads himself out of you sore and used cunt.

[andreafmn]

Speak - Chapter 5

Word Count: 3.2K

Story Description: Bella Swan was a disaster when Edward had left. Deciding she needed a little help, Charlie Swan receives with open arms his younger daughter (Y/N) Swan. She helps Bella during her depression and becomes inseparable from her long-lost friend Jacob. What she didn’t expect was falling for a hotheaded short-tempered silver wolf.

Chapter: 5/?

A/N: The long-awaited update is here!!!!!

This chapter is dedicated to @madcatlady for the hilarious ask. It honestly made me laugh 😂😂 I really wanted to make this more of an enemies to lovers (I still can) but soft Paul makes me too happy. Also, the ending for this was gonna be different but I made it into the next chapter If you enjoy my writing I’ll also be posting them in AO3 and Wattpad along with other stories. You can request at any time any story or one-shot you desire. Hope you enjoy, and all constructive criticism is encouraged.

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Chapter 5

(Y/N) had gone to bed with anger flowing through her veins. It made her burn up with rage, slowly bubbling up to the surface.

Bella had always been unconsciously selfish in her sister’s opinion. At least, she hoped it was unconscious. To (Y/N), her sister always found a way to make every situation about herself, and everyone allowed it. Her heartbreak had taken over her father’s life, threatened to take over their mother’s, and was slowly snaking its hands around hers. But Bella would not become the center of her life, she could not.

But the next morning, (Y/N)’s anger had seemingly dissipated. Even if Bella believed the world revolved around her, (Y/N) would not let hers do so. At the end of the day, it was Christmas – a day of happiness and forgiveness. She would enjoy it with or without her sister.

The smell of slightly burnt coffee filled her nostrils before she had opened her eyes and she knew her father was already up. Her excitement for the day was again replenished and she readied herself for a long afternoon. It was her first holiday back in the city of Forks, and the first Christmas she’d have in the town. Nothing would stand in the way of a good day.

“Morning, dad,” (Y/N) smiled at the flustered man. He had taken a sip of the scalding coffee. Not only did he burn his tongue, but he had to taste the awful batch. “Merry Christmas.”

“Oh, merry Christmas, honey. I really am a menace in the kitchen.”

“Thankfully not on the grill,” she chuckled. “Why don’t you sit while I make a new batch and a light breakfast?”

“I guess I’m still not used to having you girls here,” he sighed. “Normally I’d just go down to the diner and get some food there. And now that Bella’s like… like that, I’ve had to take care of the food again.” 

“Well, I’m here now. So don’t worry about that,” (Y/N) smiled. “We’ll just take it one day at a time and hope for the best. It’s the only thing we can do.” 

“Then we should get ready soon to go over to Billy’s house,” Charlie responded, resigned. “Were you able to at least convince Bella to come?”

“No. She’s as stubborn as ever.” 

“I really hoped she’d want to come. You both always enjoyed Christmas time.” 

(Y/N) shrugged from the stove, the pan she shook scraping slightly the iron grates. She had hoped that, at least for this holiday, Bella would put her family first. Alas, her teenage angst took over and she was once more glued onto the swivel desk chair, overlooking the backyard. All she wanted was for her family to be together during such a special holiday – especially one that promoted togetherness. But all Bella could do or think of was the idiotic boy that had broken her heart.

"Whatever," (Y/N) spoke abruptly. “She’s the one that’s missing out. If she wants to stay at home and wallow in self-pity, so be it. We cannot let her consume every part of our lives.”

“(Y/N), she’s your sister,” Charlie said. “She’s sad and we can’t just leave her behind.”

“It’s not even for a whole day, dad. She’ll survive a couple of hours of staring out of that window,” she whined. “It’s your day off. It’s Christmas. We’re not gonna spend today trapped in the house because Bella has a bad case of the blues.”

“(Y/N)…”

“Dad,” (Y/N) said sternly. “We are gonna go to Uncle Billy’s house. We are going to celebrate Christmas. Then, we will come back home and find Bella in the same spot. But we deserve — you deserve — to put her in the back of our minds for a couple of hours and enjoy ourselves. And that’s an order, sheriff.”

“Alright, you win, (Y/N),” Charlie chuckled slightly. “And thanks again for breakfast. I promise one day I’ll get the hang of it.”

“There won’t be any need whilst I’m here, dad.”

After a small round of chitchat and the background noise of cutlery hitting the ceramic plates, the two of them left for their respective rooms to get ready for the day. Before going back downstairs, (Y/N) popped into Bella’s room where she was not surprised to see her sister sat staring out her window.

Her sister looked pitiful. Chair bound and frail. Heartbreak in the simplest definition. There was not a single trace of the girl she had grown up with. There was a Bella before Edward and the one that was left barely counted as a person.

(Y/N) entered the room, a wrapped present in her hands. She sauntered towed her sister, unsure of what Bella’s reaction — or lack thereof— would be.

“Hey, Bells,” she spoke softly, unsure of where they stood after the conversation they had the night before. “I got you this cause, after all, it is Christmas. I know you don’t want to come with us, but I still wanted to get you something. You can open it, or not. It’s really up to you. But, merry Christmas, sis.”

Silence seemed to be the prevailing answer.

“So, is she finally gonna come?” Charlie asked as (Y/N) exited Bella’s room. “Did she have a change of heart?”

“Nope,” she answered – she wasn’t a miracle worker. “But that doesn’t mean we’re not gonna have a good time. Now, let’s go.”

As they drove down the streets to the reservation, Charlie and (Y/N) sang along badly to Christmas tunes. A white scenery blurred past them as they headed through the snow-covered streets of Forks, putting the older Swan daughter to the back of their mind. The air felt lighter, a weight lifted off their shoulders. They both felt like they could breathe, even if just for a little bit.

The red barn-like house came into view before they had realized that Forks was far behind them. As the truck rolled to a stop, Billy and Jake exited the house to greet their guests. A playful smile played on Jacob’s face when he saw his new girlfriend. A smile that Charlie Swan did not like.

“Now, (Y/N), I know that you two are now sort of together. But I don’t wanna see all that lovey-dovey stuff between you.”

“Dad,” she chuckled.

“No, seriously, (Y/N). I don’t wanna see it.”

“So, it’s okay as long as you don’t see it? Got it.”

“Don’t push it, kid.”

“Alright, dad. I’ll keep it low-key for you.”

With another giggle, (Y/N) stepped out of the cruiser, her hands packed with a bag filled with presents and a six-pack of beer. And from the back of the car, Charlie pulled the trays of food they had prepared.

“Here, let me help,” Jake told Charlie, grabbing hold of two of the four trays he was carrying.

Charlie tried his best to hide his feelings of slight anger toward the boy. He’d known him since he was a baby but seeing him get so close to his daughter unnerved him. Still, he answered, “Yeah, thanks, Jake.”

“Hey, Jake,” (Y/N) smiled, kissing Jake’s cheek.

“Hey, (Y/N).”

“Alright you two, keep it moving,” Charlie grumbled. “And, again, I don’t wanna see any funny stuff between you.”

He walked in front of them, saying hi to Billy as he walked into the house to put the trays down. Everyone could notice the annoyance on his face. As much as he loved Jake, it was one thing for him to be his best friend’s son; it was another for him to date his youngest daughter.

“How’ve you been, Billy?” (Y/N) asked as she made her way into the house and the man rolled inside.

“Very good, (Y/N),” he smiled. “So, Jake and you, when did that happen?”

She chuckled in response. “It started at the bonfire, but it’s been a long time coming. Wouldn’t you say?”

“Well, between you and me, you’ve always been my favorite of Charlie’s youngest daughters.”

“It’d be weird if I wasn’t.”

“I truly hope this union is of benefit to the both of you,” Billy said, placing a comforting hand on her forearm. “If it is meant to be, I’m sure your father will come around sooner or later.”

“Waiting for sooner rather than later,” she sighed. “It’s kind of hard to see where this is going when dad is breathing down our necks every time we’re in the same room.”

“He means well,” he chuckled. “Charlie’s very new to this whole parenting teenagers thing. It’s hard to see your kids grow up so quickly. But I’ll tell you what, I’ll keep him by the barbecue as much as I can so you two can have some alone time.”

“Thanks, uncle Billy.” 

In her happiness, (Y/N) missed Billy’s knowing gaze. He knew something neither of them did. Deep down, he knew the pair would not last long – there were other forces in play. But if this is what they wanted, for now, he would never interfere. Young love was hard to come by if that’s what this was.

They entered the kitchen and laughed as they witnessed Jacob’s pleading face. Charlie had not let down his menacing stare as he prepped the meat they would cook. Though his hands worked on the food, his eyes glared at the boy relentlessly.

“Hey, Charlie, got the grill up and running already,” Billy announced. “Why don’t we put this thing to cook already?” 

“But I’m not done yet.” 

“I think you are,” he chuckled. “Come on, let’s go.” 

Charlie grumbled as he left through the backdoor with Billy and back into the snow, leaving the two teenagers on their own. With a smile of mischief, Jake and (Y/N) crossed the small kitchen and were finally able to engage in a hello kiss.

“Hey,” she whispered as they parted from each other.

“Hey, back,” Jacob chuckled. “Your dad was close to shooting me there.” 

“Well, you did kiss his youngest daughter in front of him,” (Y/N) teased, wrapping her arms around his neck. “And you’re the first boyfriend I’ve introduced to him. Look how well that turned out for Bella.” 

“But you’re not Bella,” he said. “And I’m not Edward.”

“That is very correct,” she laughed before pecking his lips. “You’re way better.”

“You could say that again,” Jake grinned. “Also, how many boyfriends didn’t make the cut?” 

“Why? Are you jealous, Jake?” 

“Just want to know what I’m up against.” 

“Believe me, none of them match up to you.” 

Suddenly, the sound of a screen door startled them apart. Charlie walked in, the angry scowl still on his face. He muttered under his breath as he opened the drawers in the kitchen, finally finding tongs. And as he left once more, he shot them another glare.

The pair couldn’t help but burst out in laughter as they watched Charlie’s figure disappear through the door. They understood where the father was coming from. Opening himself to having another daughter get her heart broken was too much for a technically “new” father.

But as much as they understood him, it didn’t mean they would try too hard to make him comfortable. They were young, a little reckless, and very excited to be in a relationship – at least (Y/N) was.

As the adults chatted outside, cooking the meat and drinking beers, Jake and (Y/N) gravitated toward the couch, cuddling on the seat. The fireplace was on and the radio was set on a jazz station, playing a song neither of them knew.

“So,” (Y/N) spoke up, looking at Jacob from his chest. “I know we said we wouldn’t do gifts, but I got you something.”

“(Y/N), you promised,” he chuckled. “Although, I will admit I also got you a little something as well. You go first.”

(Y/N) stood up and went to get the wrapped gift she had placed behind the tree. She was excited. It was their first Christmas together ever, and more importantly, their first as a couple. She had dreamed of this moment since they were kids.

Jake followed behind, grabbing the bag he had packed his gift into. He was sure they had both gotten each other small things. They hadn’t been together for that long and there wasn’t anything riding in the presents.

“So, I know you’ve been saying for a while that you needed these for a while, and they were very hard to get.”

Jacob’s eyes were wide in surprise as he unwrapped the box in his hands. (Y/N) had gotten him a pair of Timberland boots with a steel toe. He had dropped one too many tools onto his foot whilst working on cars and he was in desperate need of these shoes.

“Wow, (Y/N)! This must have put a dent in your wallet.”

“It’s worth it,” she smiled into the hug he gave her.

“Well, here’s yours,” he tried to pull a smile, but he knew it wouldn’t even compare. “It’s not as good, but I didn’t have much time.” 

“That’s okay,” (Y/N) responded. She knew whatever he had gotten her would be meaningful and caring, a testament to who he was. And she was very confident in it until she finally saw it. “A… candle.” 

“It’s got a nice smell,” Jacob chuckled awkwardly. “I thought you’d like the smell… I know. It sucks.” 

“No. It’s, um, it’s nice.” (Y/N) was trying to hide her disappointment. She’d seen this type of candle. They sold them at the gas stations in the area as passersby souvenirs. “I’ll put it by my bed and I’ll think about you every time I light it. I love it. Thanks.” 

“And I will basically live in these boots,” he boasted. “I love them.” 

“I’m glad.” 

It was hard for (Y/N) to keep her dismay at bay. She smiled, talked, and laughed through dinner, but it was hard. Jacob could have gotten the candle that morning – zero thought and preparation had gone into the gift. She would have preferred he stuck to nothing. Even that would have been better since he would have kept the promise.

Instead, she was left with a gas station candle that smelled like apples that had been stuffed into a red bag. She was allergic to apples. They made her throat itch and her eyes swell, it had been years since she had even smelled one. Though thankfully, this one was laced with a fake fruit smell, she couldn’t wait to store it in the deepest corners of her closet.

Whilst they were enjoying the pumpkin pie she had made, a knock resounded through the door. The four people in attendance stared at each other.

“Are you expecting anyone else?” Charlie asked, wiping off the whipped cream that had accumulated on his mustache. “Though it’d be just us tonight.” 

“We aren’t,” Billy responded. “It’s a bit late for that.” 

“I’ll check who it is,” (Y/N) offered, quickly standing. “It’s probably a tourist that got lost. You guys carry on.” 

As the men went on with their conversation, (Y/N) went to see who was at the door. It was Christmas night, whilst it was snowing. If it was a tourist, they were crazy to be out at that time.

But when she opened the door, she was surprised that not only was it not a tourist, but it was Paul Lahote standing there in shorts and a tank top. His hair was dusted with white snowflake specs, the ones on his skin melting away right after contact.

(Y/N) was quick to close the door behind her. If there was anything she didn’t want it was for Jake and Paul to get into an altercation with her father and Billy around.

“Paul,” she chuckled as she pulled her jacket closer to her body. “What’re you doing here?” 

“I was actually hoping to run into you here,” he responded. “This may sound weird, but I, uh I got you something.” 

He handed her a rectangular box beautifully wrapped in red metallic paper with a white bow for decoration. She could tell he had taken his time to wrap the present – or had asked someone skilled to do it for him. By the cover alone she knew he had put care into the present.

“Can I open it now?”

“Please,” he smiled. “Go ahead.” 

Carefully, she undid the paper, not wanting to even rip it, and she pulled a long box from inside. When she lifted the lid, she gasped. Inside a gorgeously crafted dreamcatcher, with cream feathers and colorful beads rested. Attached to the rim, a wooden wolf totem was attached. It was simple, it was thoughtful, it was beautiful.

“Oh, Paul, it’s stunning,” she said. “But you didn’t have to. I didn’t get you anything.”

“That’s okay,” he chuckled. “I just saw it at a local shop, and it reminded me of you. The wolf totem, it’s for protection. The wolf is supposed to help you manifestmore protection, better instincts, and stronger relationships in your life.” 

“Seriously, Paul, it’s beautiful.”

 Without knowing it, she was beaming. The surge of happiness that grew inside her was unfathomable, and she found herself wrapping him in a hug. This stranger had gotten her a more thoughtful gift than her boyfriend and friend.

Paul stiffened at first, surprised at the sudden show of affection. But instantly melted into her embrace, wrapping his own arms around her.

“I’m glad you liked it,” he smiled to himself. But the moment was cut short. From far inside the woods, a wolf called out to his pack, saying it was time to change shifts. “Uh, that was all. I just wanted to give you this. I should be heading back home now.”

“Oh.” Was she disappointed? “Then, I promise one day I’ll repay the favor.” 

“There’s really no need.” 

“I insist,” she said with a bright smile. “Seriously, Paul. This actually means a lot. Thank you.” 

“Sure thing,” Paul smiled, running his hand through the back of his neck. “I’ll see you around. And, Merry Christmas, (Y/N).” 

Before she could answer him, Paul seemed to vanish. (Y/N) couldn’t see his body anywhere close. So, she spoke to the air, “Merry Christmas, Paul.” 

(Y/N) was quick to hide the gift in the car, under her seat. If she went back into the house with it, she was sure it would only cause discord with Jacob and her father. It was better if neither of them knew about one of the best gifts anyone had ever gotten her.

“Who was it?” Charlie called out when he saw his daughter walking back into the house. “You were out there for some time.” 

“Oh, just a couple of tourists that got lost leaving the rez.” 

“Tourists?” Jacob questioned. “Today of all days?”

“It was a newlywed couple, on a honeymoon road trip.” 

“Mmm, young love,” Billy smiled toward (Y/N). It made her question if he had seen who she was actually speaking to. “What a great gift it is.” 

Taglist: @winter-soldier-101@zheezs14 @a-sifu-hotman @sunflowerleii @DyslexicCatterpillar @Blackbluerose666 @slutforsainz @kortniec696 @xcastawayherosx@minhaimaginacao @bluebirbnamedJay @sirenheadenby @andreiaafaria @bluetreecloud20 @valejewel @nogitsune-the  @user0ur0mom  @skyesthebomb @swidkid @avis15 @honeylovemoon @wonieeee @edwardssugarmommy @nyenye @sugajar @lovel-blog @witchofhawkins @Six-Call @then-worship-at-my-altar@ems-alexandra @blueshoelacess @Nyctophilia710 @rosalie-whitlock @nocturnalherb16 @this-is-a-bad-idea @esposadomd @locokoca @volturiwolf @spookyqueen @gh0stgirl33 @catgirlpwr @nolaxox @klf1999 @krazyk99 @ilikepunsbeth @adaydreamaway08 @cinffy23 @paodemorangol1l1 @hufflepuffobsessedwithmarvel @toomanythoughts33 @jrosefangirl @queereddie @Missvicious @sugasthreedollarkookie @laylaskywalker @fandomonetwo @fruitylilfuck @a-slut-for-Loki-Bucky @honeywxter @haroldpotterson

[griffinpuff-wins-blog]

[ziee]

Being a writer, and writing smut primarily I find it hard finding good, like actual GOOD smut fics. It feels like reading a 13 yr-old’s attempt at recalling the Twlight sex scene. (Saying Twilight bc it was my first ‘sex’ scene lol) 

Anyways, never become a writer. 

[choiwrites]

kth | wolfgirl (m.)

Words: 10k  Genre: twlight!au, it’s new moon but taetae as jacob, ur bella but you have a personality :o, oh also smut and a little angst Warnings: no protection and no fcks given, language ig?, descriptive seggs lol, vampires and all that bs if that triggers sum of yall, oral (f receiving), tae is younger than u and kind of a sub (dom tae is overdone we need change in this country) i cant think no more no thots hed mt Rating: 18+ Song: Iron & Wine - Flightless Bird, American Mouth Summary:  During your stay at your Aunt's house in the wet town of Forks, you never thought the boys next door will change your perspective in how you see the world.

The weather in Washington was something you’re not used to. You can never go places without getting mud on your shoes and it takes more than your patience to clean them every time before going out. Sure, it was great to experience a different weather other than the blazing sun in Los Angeles, but it was hard to adjust. You weren’t ready for it with all the sleeveless and loose tops you brought from Los Angeles.

After months of debating with your mom, you decided it would be a great way to spend your summer vacation turning your camera focus into something more dark and cloudy. Your professor had also suggested that it would look good in your portfolio if you try different moods in photos other than the hot weather in Angeles. So, you thought about it for months before asking your mom to buy you tickets to see your Aunt Sylvia who you're currently living with for the meantime.

She was in her mid-thirties, but she looked younger than her real age. She knew how to groom and with the way she looks, she probably had that life during her high school days. You rarely see her though, you can remember all the conversations you both had. She leaves home early for her duty at the police station as an attending desk officer. Her place wasn't big, an average suburban house painted in cold tones of white and gray with dark furniture inside. It's not your typical definition of cozy. Good thing you brought your two sweaters — one with a Christmas tree embroidered on it and one with the phrase "'tis the season!" Wearing a sweater in Los Angeles only means one thing, and that is the season of giving. But who cares, it's not like anyone was going to notice, right?

About to finish the second cup of black tea, an idea pops into your mind about what Sylvia had said about the landscapes nearby the house. However, she had warned you about the risks of a few wild coyote appearances, but one could call you a junkie. There’s no fun in danger, but dangerous does rhyme with adventurous.

A cool whip of breeze enters the thin fabric of your sweater, immediately regretting stepping out of the doorstep after locking the door. As you are approaching the back of the house to enter the woods, young laughters echo through the area, lessening your fear for a bit. It must be safe if a group of teenagers are hanging out in such a secluded forest.

Unbothered by the noises, whether they were from teenagers or not, you make your way further into the woods of coppery branches on the endless verdant ground with subtle eau de nils. It’s like walking into a surreal three-dimensional render of a forest, too perfect to be right in front of your eyes.

It was quiet and serene in the woods. Aside from birds chirping, it felt like out of this world. It was an alien planet. Everything was green — the moss surrounding the place, every tree had some sort of fungi beneath it, the soil dark brown as if staring right into the earth’s eyes. The very healthy kind of earthy, and it was easier to breathe in the forest than it was in the city of Los Angeles. No wonder why they're both on the opposite sides of the country. They're literally poles apart. Being at Forks, it's as if you were able to be in a different country. It was secluded, unlike in Angeles, there are people in every place you go.

While changing the film of the camera, a strong gust of wind on your left side. So strong that your body stumbled onto the ground. You were on your knees, camera shattered as it hits a hard medium-sized rock. You break a couple of curses to the wind.

The camera looked hopeless with lenses separated from it, lying in pieces against a rock.

"What the hell was that?" 

There had to be some kind of a fast animal that ran from your side, which quickens your pulse, but the devastation you felt for the camera overthrew that fear. When you caught a glimpse of the 'wind,' it was human-like. It ran around in every direction surrounding you,  freezing you into place. The only thing you were able to do was to keep watching the human-like creature run in circles like lightning. You tried standing up, but it approached you in a rapid current that you fell into place again. But you couldn't see it, you weren't able to look into its eyes.

"You shouldn't be out here alone,” behind you says.

You whimper, embarrassed when the deep voice sends hums into your nerves.. 

"Why didn't you run?" He looks at you with knitted brows as he approaches to help you get on your feet. He’s far too attractive to be a wild coyote, you slap that stupid thought away.

"I... I didn't know what to do,” you force out, still affected by the broken camera and creeping fear.

He was around four inches taller than you. He looked about your age. Dark thick hair, with light brown irides inside his almond-shaped eyes. His skin was of a rich walnut tan, and his dark green hoodie complements that. 

"You must be Sylvia's niece. I'm Taehyung,” he said in a sultry manner as he offered a hand for a handshake.

"How do you kno-"

"She told us. My family's close with Sylvia. Our mothers used to be best friends, y/n." He puts his hand back in the pocket of his hoodie.

A tinge of embarrassment brushes through your cheeks, feeling guilty that you didn't give him a handshake. But all of that is ignored when he smiles.

"Did I creep you out?"

You chuckle softly. "No, of course not. I'm just still in the moment... of processing." You ease him, as if you were able to read the tension in his undecipherable eyes.

There was a few seconds of silence before Taehyung spoke again when he noticed your camera on the ground.

"Hey, we have a technician at home, maybe he has some tools he could help you with."

He was absolutely gorgeous. You find yourself lost in his face, studying his features and every little action he does. He would look so good as a muse. If only you could capture him right now, he'd be perfect under the clouds that create shadows that contour his cheeks and makes his eyes even more mysterious.

"Don't worry, you can trust me. Sylvia knows where I live,” he adds. 

Though that doesn't really solve the problem, you find yourself walking with Taehyung in the woods, drifting away from the devastation and fear from earlier. 

The laughters were from them. The laughs you heard earlier before entering the woods were from Taehyung's friends. They confirmed that they were walking around the woods earlier and that they passed by your house. All looking friendly with similar doe eyes, almost like they were relatives. They were all in a circle, all of them sitting on a chunk of thick logs, dressed in a similar way. The men were younger than you, but there is a girl who's older than you. She didn't seem as friendly as the others as you notice the judging glances towards your way. She had shoulder length of hair and she was just as tan as Taehyung. Taehyung discussed each of them one by one to you, all of them introducing themselves in an endearing manner except for her. Only saying her name was Leah and that was it, which made you feel an ounce of intimidation.

"So, y/n, how long do you plan to stay?" Embry, the one with the shortest hair, asks as he plays with the two twigs he'd been digging up dirt with the moment you arrived. His color was a tad bit darker than the others. He had a grin that could steal every girl's heart. He was gorgeous. They were all just as gorgeous as Taehyung.

"Oh, one month. I have a college application to fix back home,” you answered surely. You were only here to take photos for your college portfolio, and making friends was out of the picture until today.

"Sucks for Tae, I had a feeling you could be more than a willing candidate to be his girlfriend." Everybody laughed except for you and Tae who exchanged awkward glances at each other.

"Stop it, Bry." Taehyung wanted to laugh along but embarrassment got the best of him.

"She looks so out of place. You probably party a lot in Los Angeles, don't you?" Leah gives you a stern look, seriously waiting for your response. She only wants to get a reaction from you and you weren’t the only one to get the feeling as the group feels the rising tension between the both of you.

"No, I don't go to parties. Mom is very strict." You tell her. You didn't want the group to feel that you were intimidated, after all, you wanted to befriend everyone.

"She'd be perfect for our overnight tomorrow then." She prickly grins.

"Right! Want to join us in La Push? It's the nearest beach out here. We'll have bonfires and such," Seth, the youngest one with the tiniest body (still bigger than yours), expresses in excitement. Out of all of them, Seth was the friendliest. 

"I'll go talk to Sylvia for you, if you want." Taehyung raises his brows. He had been laughing quietly ever since he had brought you to meet his friends - which seems like he regrets, additionally. He was more mysterious than you thought. He didn't share much of his life during the discussion, only three things: his last name was Kim, he’s 20 years old, and he lives at the rez along with the rest of the team.

"Sure. I'll just bring my other camera." You smiled.

Taehyung said that he'll get Chase, a friend of his who wasn’t part of the circle, to fix the broken film camera. He assured that it will only be a matter of three days before the camera is all yours again. After a few more useless fun discussions, you had forgotten that the sun had settled for a while. When Taehyung realizes your face of worry, he offers to give you a ride home. Great, a ride with the wild coyote who had immediately earned your trust by rising a brow. You wouldn’t be so shocked if you end up ‘missing’ in the news in the next hours.

He owned a Chevy pick up truck. It was red, but faded, making it seem vermillion in color. It had a few dents and you were sure that it wasn't one of the smoothest rides you've ever had. But Taehyung made a few jokes about how he feels uneasy with the truck as well, only to reveal that it has been with him ever since his birth.

"It's great. Very retro." You gave him a smile to let him know that he doesn't need to feel embarrassed with his truck.

"Shut up, Y/N. I know it sucks, okay. I can't even play a single song here without a static." He laughs and you admit it.

He gave a charming wave to your window and had a small chat with Sylvia, who’s been home for hours, before leaving, probably about the La Push trip for tomorrow. Once you've changed into your pyjamas, Sylvia knocks on your door as you are about to settle in bed.

"Tae told me about the La Push camping tomorrow,” she began.

"Are you gonna let me?"

She smiles in an assuring way. You can't deny how lovely she looked with her hair down, her waves framing her heart-shaped face. "Of course, honey. You better wake up early tomorrow. Tae told me that he'll pick you up by seven." She winks and rubs your shoulder before heading downstairs.

A beach trip in a cloudy town without bringing any hoodies with you? Sounds about perfect, if you’re looking for a hypothermia attack. And you were never a morning person either so it’s a big mystery why you even agreed to go in the first place. The waking time in Los Angeles was ten in the morning. In Forks, it was seven. 

When Taehyung arrived, he was wearing a black shirt and a black leather jacket, pairing it with slightly oversized pants. He looked bigger than yesterday, maybe it was the jacket that made him look buff. He waved softly before you even stepped out of the doorway. He was carrying a medium-sized paper bag with small wet stains.

"My sister made us breakfast. Just in case you didn't have enough time to prepare," he opens the car door for you and waved to Sylvia goodbye, "thought you'd take more time because you probably wake up late in the city."

“I’m somehow a little offended with that assumption,” you cooed and he replied with a stammering laugh, unsure whether to take it as a joke or not.

He fumbled with the stereo and it played better than yesterday, giving you a sloppy smile as the first chords of Creep by Radiohead plays.

"You fixed it?" You take a bite from the sandwich his sister prepared. You thank God his sister prepared it for you, your stomach would be growling by now.

"Yeah. I just didn't want us to have that awkward silence along the way." He breathily laughs.

Everything Taehyung has is beautiful. He had an amazing laugh, a deep sultry voice, and doe eyes. He's simply astonishing. You were sure that everyone he has met so far had fallen in love with him. You weren't one to deny that either.

It took around fifteen songs before the both of you arrived at the beach — thanks to Taehyung's amazing playlist. It was quiet, the weather didn't change much in the place. Still cold and dark, untouched by a glimpse of sunrise. It was windier than the rest of Forks, and you wore your Christmas sweater to at least help with the cold a bit.

It was weird to say, but Taehyung radiated heat whenever you were near him. It's like when you're not around Taehyung, you feel the coldness of Forks. His truck didn't even feel cold though his air conditioning was on, you just felt a sense of unfamiliar comfortable heat you found yourself curling in your seat minutes ago. The group welcomed the both of you except for Leah of course. Sooner or later, you knew you'd start to hate her.

"You guys are early,” you tell Embry and Paul as they greet you with warm hugs.

"Of course, we are. It's La Push, baby." Embry gives you a wink and you blush.

"Okay, Bry, I haven't had my breakfast and you're already winking." Paul fake puked and the rest of the group laughs.

They started setting up tents as Taehyung offered to take your bag when he noticed how it's weighing you down. Before he could put it in the tent, you took your digital camera and started roaming around by yourself to take pictures of the view. Astounding as you had expected. It's like you were in the middle of nowhere. Only Taehyung's friends were at the beach which was a lucky shot for you and the group.

"Set up the fire, Tae! We're having breakfast." Leah yells across the place as she places the logs in the middle of the circle the tents are built in.

Taehyung sighs loudly. "Get ready for the Quileute Tribe stories." 

"You seem tired of it, you joked.

While Taehyung builds a fire with the rest of the boys, you secretly take pictures of him busy as the both of you keep talking.

"It's always the story every camping day. The Quileute Legends, you know? The scary stuff." 

You knit your brows when the word ‘scary’ comes into play, bringing your camera down to take a better look at the almost sweaty Taehyung.

"Scary stuff? How scary? Thrill me." You weren't aware as to how much Taehyung also studies your features. He wanted to know you better, but he was afraid of scaring you away by asking too many questions. It had always been his issue, scaring people away from him. And this time, he didn't want to let you in like the others, he just wanted to be acquaintances. But the more he spends time with you, the more he wants to be near you as if there were magnets pulling you together.

"I don't know what would thrill you, y/n. But the world is darker than you think, it's not always safe." He gives you a look. It was impossible. You were five feet away from him, but you could almost see your reflection in his eyes. It was too comforting. You were devoured by his eyes, falling steadily into his charms.

"I know. It's just as scary in L.A., I mean," you gulped, "crime is everywhere. Can't really stop it." You explained.

"It's not always crime that's scary, y/n. I'm talking unexplainable things." He smirks.

"Like paranormal?" You gaze away from him, starting to take pictures of the beach. But no matter how hard you try to distract yourself from Taehyung, your eyes keep falling on him.

"More than paranormal. Ghosts are easier to believe in."

You inhaled sharply. "I mean those are just legends, right? What's with the obsession in the Qui-Quileute Tribe?" You struggled pronouncing the word.

"It's not me. It's a tradition." There was a moment of silence before you could think of what to say again.

"Delete my pictures by the way." He scoffed.

"I thought you didn't notice."

"I was posing." 

You laugh at his joke, still certain you're never deleting any of his pictures, most definitely the one when he accidentally looked at the camera.

"You look sort of beautiful in the camera." Your lids flutter like a high school girl. “Not just in the camera, I mean… haha.”

He stares at you in confusion, and somehow you always find yourself frozen and embarrassed whenever he looks at you. "Sort of beautiful? You're more naive than I thought." He removes his jacket and throws it on the log nearby, revealing his buff body. You look away in discomfort, you didn't want to find yourself checking him out. "I'm not what you think I am. And I don't think you want to know."

"Maybe I do." You point the camera towards him and take a shot of his reaction. You wink.

The clouds hovering above the clamorous sea tell that there's probably rain coming, but it seems like the group wasn't bothered by it at all. You were sitting next to Taehyung two feet away from you on the logs nearby the fire that Seth had given up trying to help making after a couple of failed attempts. His heat never failed to linger around you though.

Sam was discussing the Quileute Legends and the group was very fascinated with the story, even though Taehyung had confirmed earlier that they've already heard the story too many times from their own families. Sam was good. He had a way in telling stories. You find yourself actually believing the legends. Werewolves and vampires? Shapeshifters and Children of the Moon? You weren't one to believe in such fantasies. You liked to watch historical movies more than fairytales, but with the way Sam elaborated every part of the legend, you can't deny the shiver that you felt when he discussed the cold ones.

Fast like lightning. Beautiful and alluring. Undead without a soul.

You thought it was ridiculous for Sam to even give out a warning about the cold ones. You were suppressing your laugh a little bit, and you were sure Leah already had her eyes on you. Why would Sam give out a warning about the cold ones? It's not like they were actually real. He also mentioned a treaty. And he sounded pretty serious about it too, even Taehyung was carefully listening. All of their eyes were on Sam, except for Leah.

Sam talked about a specific family of the cold ones, that they proposed a treaty. These cold ones are not allowed to hurt anybody from Forks, or else the mentioned werewolves are allowed to pose a fight with them. He talked about it like it was a plan.

It was afternoon and the clouds were still as thick as it was in the morning, but rays of sunlight shone through the gaps between the dark clouds. It looked ethereal, an aesthetic you'd only see in paintings. You thought those paintings are only manifestations of amplified emotions of the painter, but here you are, smiling to your camera as you take hundreds of shots.

"Save some memory for the other landscapes," Taehyung says beside you, throwing pebbles to the water, each bouncing impressively for three times.

"I know, I just can't get enough of this. You don't see that in L.A." You pointed your index finger towards the horizon of the sea.

"Yeah, but at least you can swim in LA. It's too cold out here to even go for a swim,” he emphasized.

"Not when you're around. It's weird, but I feel like you have a fever. You're too hot."

He raises his brows . "I know I'm hot," he chuckles.

"I didn't mean it like that,” you protest, though you know for a fact, Taehyung right. If he were to live in L.A., he'd be escorted many times by a modeling agency.

"So, I'm not hot?" You knew he was teasing and your embarrassment was obvious enough because of the blood rushing through your cheeks.

"You're attractive. I'm sure you know that." You roll your eyes, trying to keep everything casual — which is getting harder and harder every time he's around.

"No, I don't,” he teased. He was obviously getting pay back on you for taking candid shots of him earlier.

Your eyes landed on Sam and Emily play-fighting in the sea, just the sight of them being happy made you feel a bit of a heartache. You were a sucker for romance. The boys told you earlier that they were engaged for three months now. Leah was Sam's ex-girlfriend and Emily was Leah's ex-best friend. Finally putting the pieces together why Leah was one of the hardest to be with. She was extremely hurt and broken. She would rather shut the world out rather than let anybody in. She would rather be alone, than find anyone again who could possibly hurt her.

"Look," you poked Taehyung who was too busy throwing pebbles, "Sam and Emily are swimming. We should too!"

Though you were shivering, you bravely took off the mustard jacket that Taehyung had let you borrow. You were left with your thin brown tank top and denim shorts. He's still in his black shirt, unbothered to even take it off nor his jeans.

"What are you doing? Let's go." You tell him as you walk towards the sea.

This was a bad idea. It felt like ice was draping all over your body. How can Emily look like she's having fun when you're over here freezing just by stepping into the water? Half of your body was shivering from the wind, the lower half was for sure numb. You wanted to slap Taehyung for taking so long to get in with you, and you weren't even sure why you were so desperate for him to get in with you. It's not like he had a heater with him.

It took Taehyung a few more seconds before he started taking his shirt off, revealing his caramel skin, but it wasn't his color that caught your eyes, it was how built he is. His body looks like it was sculpted by the most talented and precise sculptor. It was defined, and shadows are doing magic in giving it silhouettes in the right areas. The best part about it was how shy he was taking off his clothes, like a teenager getting ready for his first swimming lesson.

He was for sure planning to swim today, revealing the gray trunks he’s wearing underneath his jeans. He needs a bigger one that fits him better, because the trunks he's wearing isn't doing him any justice.

Okay, no. Maybe it was justified by a subtle outline of his —

Don't even look down there, y/n, you tell yourself.

You didn't know where to focus. His thighs were just as eye-catching as his abs. Just as toned and thick. It would be such a material for thigh riding, you thought and you quickly shake your head at the idea. It has to be the waters that did this to you. Time has never been more relevant when he was walking towards your way, as he scoops water with his hands to wet his hair, while biting his bottom lip and giving you a small smile after.

"Freezing?" He smiles, eyes pierced on your small body. You were hugging yourself, embracing yourself from the fact that if you let go of your hands, you might touch something else.

"You were taking so long." 

He chuckles before holding your arm, taking it off your body. "Come on, dip your whole body." He pulls you softly towards the ocean, the sound of walking through water comforting your ears.

He was a foot away from you, the water level was on his chest and so was yours, but slightly higher. He looked even more godly. His hair pushed back, and to see his face in its entirety was a blessing, a gift.

None of you dared to talk, and you thought it was better that way. You just get to stare at him, as the sunlight lands itself upon his bronze eyes with specks of gold if you would close enough, majestic indeed to see something like that once in your life. You'd wish to wake up to that every morning.

There was this comfortable silence between the two of you. Drops of water fall under his eyelashes, fluttering them as he struggles to stare back at you. The moment was ruined when he suddenly smiled and looked towards Embry and Paul. Embry was sitting next to Paul, staring at the both of you while laughing. You shrug, feeling invaded.

"Why? What is it?" you asked Taehyung.

"They're thinking ridiculously."

 You furrow your forehead. "How do you know?" He tightens his hold around your arm as he keeps you steady near him, aware of you struggling to touch the floor.

"I just know," he softly plants circles on your arm with his thumb, "trust me."

"Maybe we shouldn't stand too close to each other then. I think they're making a big deal out of it." You didn't want to come off feisty, but you guessed it went that way for Taehyung as he moved away from you without letting you go.

"No, they're not. They're just teasing." When he said that, it was like he only said it to get near you, to assure you that it was okay to be close to him like that.

"Still cold?" he asked.

"Not so much anymore." You muttered. There were so many questions you wanted to ask Taehyung, but your voice isn't very trustworthy at the moment. You know it will betray you the moment you open your mouth.

"Penny for your thoughts? Why did you want to swim?" His voice was soft, calming as the ocean.

"I wanted to test how warm you can make me, even in freezing water."

He laughs breathily. "Seriously?"

You nod. He wanted to tell you a lot about himself, but like you, he was just as scared. Skinny dipping wasn't really your thing, especially in cold water, so after a few more moments of swimming and small talks with Taehyung, you let yourself dry by sitting next to the tent, keeping yourself busy by viewing all the pictures you took.

It was four in the afternoon, and the sun looked like it was already setting. Time was almost irrelevant at Forks, you wake up and the next thing you know, you're already getting ready for bed. Even though today was quite eventful, the clock still ticked quickly.

Feeling dry enough, you walked to the other side of the beach, Embry had mentioned that there was a cliff nearby along the woods. Though Taehyung was busy drying himself and laughing with the others, he glanced your way as you were heading towards the woods. You lifted your camera so he knew what your motive was, and he flashed a sly smile.

Trees. Cliffs. Birds.

The place could be a haven for the National Geographic Channel.

"I thought the pack wouldn't ever leave you alone like this." A deep voice spoke behind you, his english accent was thick and strong. You were sure that if you turn around, he’ll be ten feet away from you. You regret blinking your eyes, because the next thing you knew, he was right in front of you. His expression with so much thirst, so much hunger. For what?

You only inhaled sharply, first thing coming into your mind, confusion overpowering your nerves. You examined the man before you quickly. Olive skin, dark ruby eyes. His skin was inhumanly shiny, he almost looked dead, but in a mesmerizing type of way. He had dark purple circles, but his eyes were beautiful enough to distract you from it. He mirrored a cement under sunlight, he had fragments of diamonds and glitters on his skin. It wasn't your brain consuming you but his visual, his aura.

"Didn't bring your dog with you?" You weren't sure what he meant. He takes a step forward to lean into your ear, and your feet beg to stay, your eyes staring deeply in his beauty. You were too engaged, everything about him had you in place.

"You smell different from the others. Are you aware of that?" His breath touched your skin and there the exact opposite of heat seeping in your skin. “La tua cantante. I can hear your blood flowing through your veins. I can hear your heart. It's beautiful." He sniffs your neck as he hisses.

He wasn't human, and this time you were sure. He had danger lingering in his eyes, but it dressed so captivatingly beautiful, you found yourself lost.

"It won't hurt, I promise. It will be just a tiny bite, you won't even feel it."

There were words coming out of your mouth, you swore that. But nothing, your mouth still and close. It's sort of like he had power upon you, controlling and manipulating your body to be a mannequin. 

"Shh, don't fight it. You won't win over me." His teeth were grazing on your neck, seeking for a soft spot. You were unsure of his nature, what could he be?

An alien from this alien planet? An experiment gone wrong that escaped from a lab, perhaps? Maybe a demon, or an angel. A greek god of some kind?

They were all terrifying.

At the corner of your eye appeared a shirtless Taehyung, but he didn't look like himself. He was red, smoke flaring around his body. His chest expanded by time, and when you felt a small sensation of sharpness on your neck, Taehyung jumped towards the man.

No, it can't be.

This isn't Taehyung. Taehyung was gone. Maybe you were imagining things, but you felt all of them happening in front of you. As the man got distracted, your senses came back, falling on your side from losing balance. You pushed yourself away from the two monsters, as you would describe it. This wolf was huge, enormous. Any man who would try to fight it will easily lose. It stands almost seven foot, three bears wide.

Without trying, the creature had already decapitated the man. You weren't sure how to feel — safe or worried — but you were sure that you are mortified, and your face clearly expresses that.

You were only moving away from this huge thing in front of you, maybe that'll help you escape. But you don't even know if you wanted to escape. A part of you believes that Taehyung is inside that wolf, maybe eaten alive, or a spirit. 

So much for the wild coyotes, thanks for the heads up Sylvia.

Your eyes met his. Dark bronze eyes with specks of gold if you look close enough. You could almost see yourself in them, they were that kind. His eyes had a message for you, to approach him, to pet him, that it was okay and he will never hurt you. Before your hand could land on his lowered head, Sam and the others came running to help you, obviously seeing the wolf, but not even being bothered like you were.

"Y/n, are you alright?" Sam helps you stand on your feet.

Sam and the wolf had some kind of connection. Sam stared at it and the wolf left.

"So, wolves are normal here?" you spoke with a weak voice.

Sam opened his mouth and closed it again, thinking of how he can explain what just happened. You know that he knows something, and he was struggling to tell it.

"Where's Taehyung?" You scan their faces with no sign of Taehyung.

Holy shit! The wolf ate him! you thought. All you want to see right now is Taehyung. To prove himself. He can't be that wolf. The wolf must have eaten him. It is far too impossible for Quileute Legends to be real.

"We should get going before the other cold ones get here." Sam assists you to get back in the tents, completely ignoring your state of bewilderment.

Maybe it's a Forks thing to be mysterious and quiet. It irks you so much that none of them are even acknowledging what happened. This would be a great story for your mom.

Hey, Mom. Just wanted to call to tell you about how great my day was. So Taehyung, right? Aunt's neighbor, really hot guy I'd totally fuck, got eaten by a werewolf. But that's not too crazy, an incredibly beautiful medieval British man held me hostage, telling me he wanted to suck my blood. What a Forks thing! And everybody saw this huge tall wolf, I'm talking as big as a shelf kind of wolf, but they all acted like it was some puppy leaving the scene. Anyways, Mom, I'm traumatized. Going home in a week.

There is no way you can paraphrase that. No way you can make everything happening right now to sound normal at least one bit. This must be normal in Forks, but this is some Hollywood work in LA already. Things like these don't happen unless there was a shoot next door.

"Hey, you okay?" Leah approaches you. Her concern is seemingly genuine.

"I'm alive, guess I am okay. Where's Taehyung?" You don't bother to look at anyone at all, you drive your attention to the waves landing on the beach, hoping you could synchronize your breathing with them.

"Taehyung's fine. You don't have to worry about him."

"I saw him there. He was... he was red! Like he was burning! And... and there was smoke. Then I blinked, then there's a wolf. I swear it ate him!" Leah looked at you with wide eyes, but her lips were shaking trying to hide a smile.

"You're not taking me seriously! That wolf killed that guy! I don't know. He sounded British!" Leah bit her lip. "That was horrifying. I saw its head removed, there was no blood! What was that?" Leah inhaled sharply before looking at you with assurance.

"Can you calm down? The wolf you saw, don't you think it was described like the one in the legends?" Leah almost shouted, yet still controlling her laugh.

"Shapeshifters? Those are legends, Leah! The wolf ate Taehyung!" 

She chuckled. "No, they are real," she protested.

"The British man there was a cold one, a literal vampire. Taehyung didn't kill him, he was already dead."

No.

"Shut up, Leah. I know you hate me, but this is no time for jokes." 

She laughs harder. "You're right about me not liking you, but I'm not joking. That dark brown werewolf is Taehyung. One and only Taehyung. 20 year-old Taehyung who lives at the rez. That Taehyung."

'The world is darker than you think. It's not always safe.'

Taehyung had already given you clues from the start. But a word from Leah wouldn't be enough to stop your mind from going everywhere. You needed to hear this from Taehyung.

It was twilight already and the group had decided to spend the night in their cabin, instead of the beach. Sam explained that it was for your safety which until now he hasn't elaborated yet. Emily offered newly baked muffins, but it was too late before you could grab one when all the boys devoured around them. You gave Emily a smile.

"You can have the next batch." She shied away.

Emily looks like an average girl next door. She had fringes and medium length hair, they were very flat. Her skin was like the others, tan and healthy-looking. One thing you haven't examined deeply about her were her eyes. Embry had told you once that staring at Emily would bother Sam, and when you first saw her, you knew immediately why. She had a scar on one of her eyes, they looked painful. It looks like a cat scratch, only if that cat was a lion. It covered half of her face, but that didn't stop her from being lovely. She was still pretty in every way.

Taehyung arrives at the cabin, looking at everybody except you, his body resting on the door frame. He was heavy-breathing like he just finished a race. Sam came after him, giving him a small pat then walking towards Emily. Taehyung's eyes remain on the floor. His actions were complicated. You haven't figured him out yet.

"Y/N, Tae, maybe you can talk outside alone." Sam smirks at Taehyung, and Taehyung smiles back.

'This is no time to be smiling!'

Taehyung finally looks at you before leaving the door and you follow. But he still hasn't talked. And your rage is piling up inside you, you finally take a step forward.

"Care to explain what the hell happened there? I thought you were swallowed by that — that thing!" He gulps, stopping his tracks and turning around to see your face.

"I was scared," you muttered.

He totally understood why you were scared. Because he was just as scared and confused as you when he first discovered who he was, and just like you, he chose to deny it in every way he can, and he hoped that denial can make a change.

"You're not supposed to know about this. I didn't want to put you in this position — of knowing what truly there is." His eyes are sad, like he was a missing child.

The same day Taehyung figured out what he was, his eyes looked exactly the same; with fear, agony, and deprecation.

"So, you're a werewolf?" You felt his pupils dilate.

He looked at you in disbelief as if he hadn't given enough clues yet.

"Werewolf. Shapeshifter. Monster. Dog. Whatever you call it, it wasn’t my choice." His voice was weak, almost ashamed of what he had just said.

"And you kill —"

"Vampires." He finishes your sentence before you could assume. "Just vampires. The cold ones? Those that violate the treaty? They’re real." And so the legends were correct and real, and the evidence stands right in front of you, breathing and staring at you.

But no matter what angle you look at him, he wasn't a monster. He is not what he is described in the fairytales. He wasn't a merciless creature, not even harmful. He was just this young boy who lived near you.

"I get that you're afraid of me. Trust me, so am I."

"I'm not scared of you. If it weren't for you I would be bloodless by now." You bit your lip. "But I'm still a little overwhelmed." You gulped.

He had no words, but he was relieved. And you knew that when his eyes twinkled, the kind he gave you when you were jamming to the songs he had in his truck.

"If it's okay for you, I'm inviting you and Sylvia to my birthday tomorrow. It's just a small gathering."

"Will there be drinks?" you kid.

"Sam doesn't really want me taking any drinks for the meantime." He chuckles.

"Why not?"

"He said that I can't be on alcohol during my first six months of phasing. Why? Do you drink?" he innocently asks.

"Was just teasing." You playfully pushed him before proceeding to walk back in the cabin.

Before you even knew it, Taehyung was irrevocably infatuated with you. He wouldn't have thought that a college girl would give a small attention to someone younger than her, or even finding out about who he truly is and still staying by his side. He had spent so much time denying who he was, but maybe being a werewolf isn't so bad after all, if phasing is what it takes to protect you or anyone at all.

You were just like what he thought you would be — kindred spirits.

The party isn’t filled with loud chats and crowds, it is a gathering. Taehyung tried his best to always stand by your side to give you ease in enjoying such an unfamiliar place as Sylvia gets indulged in conversations with the others, completely forgetting you. Every minute though, he'd have to leave you alone on the couch but he'd return as soon as he can.

There weren't much talks between you and him either, only a couple of smiles exchanged whenever Embry and Quil do something embarrassing in front of the both of you.

It seemed as if the night was the longest night of your life, only occupied with listening to others’ stories and Taehyung sipping a punch from his red cup. He had asked a few questions to keep things interesting, but it was hard to keep the mood flowing. You had asked about his hobbies and all the boring stuff you could think of, and surprisingly he would reply with enthusiasm like he have always wanted to be asked those questions. This makes you more curious how his daily life goes, how many people does he actually talk to.

When the hand of the clock drops at ten, you were just patiently waiting for Sylvia to get on her feet and cut the conversation with the others but she seemed to have consumed more alcohol than she could tolerate and the next thing you knew she was laughing like a maniac. You were stuck in a loop circle of smiling so thinly to everyone you get eye contact with.

You distract yourself with admiring the intricate designs of Taehyung's small home, and the thought of a young Taehyung growing up in where you're sitting currently makes your heart jolt. It's uplifting seeing his pictures on the wall, but there was a difference between his smile before and his smile now. One can easily tell which was more true. You had no clue what it's like to be his kind, hell even now you still can't believe what he is. But it sure shows in the way he had changed judging from the innocent photos that hang on the wooden walls. You've never known him since then, yet you wanted to restore this angel-being beaming at the sight of a camera who now hates being in photos because he thinks he's some sort of a monster.

You wanted to ask him about the pictures, the one where he was wearing a towel with a headband, the one where he was framing his face. All of them speak some kind of connection with you, maybe it's your love for photography that makes you feel this way, but innocence is one of the hardest thing to lay your lenses on.

Then you finally got it. What your professor was talking about, drawing something intangible to your camera. This is what he meant. Your gallery is only filled with landscapes, mostly the aesthetic of architecture and nature. Taehyung is what you needed to change the mood of your photos, not the weather, not the dark ambience of Forks, but his story. If only there's a chance for you to grasp his mystery in a single picture, his adventurous smile in one flash.

A pang of pain in your forehead pulls you back into reality, and the lights that stood above you only made it worse. You needed to leave immediately before the pain has you grunting. Welcomed with a wrapping breeze, you brace yourself and regret wearing the dress Sylvia begged you to wear. She said it was her favorite when she was your age, a Prussian blue dress that stops before your knees with tulle around the hem and a lighter blue ribbon on the chest.

Of course Taehyung who sits beside you would notice your leaving, and before you can inhale the fresh air from the porch, he was already asking what's wrong.

"I don't feel so good. I think I'm gonna have to go home alone since Sylvia's still occupied," you said, pushing on your temples with your thumb and middle finger.

"I can drive you home. I don't think they'd notice that we left, they're all pretty wasted." He chuckles, complementing the high tones of the strong wind that travels past your bodies.

"I'm really sorry. I'm being rude, I mean this is your party... your birthday party and you're going to drive me home."

He places the sippy cup on a coffee table near the entrance, and he was palming his pocket to reach for his keys.

"It's fine, y/n. The party's been dead four hours ago and I can't send you home alone. Do you have the house key or should I go back inside and ask Sylvia for it?"

"She gave me a duplicate. I think it's best we go now. My head's really killing me."

It was unusual, headaches. They rarely come to you since you monitor your phone usage and water intake. You hate getting them because you hated taking meds for it, and you just hoped Sylvia would have a stock of it. Your fingers have been roaming your forehead for a while yet you can't seem to navigate where the pain is, where it's beating. It would be better if you could massage it along the ride but you were struggling to even keep your fingers raised.

Taehyung stops the car in the middle of somewhere as you are hitting your head continuously on the head rest. It was quiet, a deafening silence that rang your ears that brought you to open your eyes. Taehyung wasn't in his seat anymore, only fog filling for his place crawling under your skin.

There was your breathing, crickets, and rustles of trees that travel the air. You weren't sure how to react but one was definite, you were scared. The hand resting on your thigh turning white and wet, breathing faster and heavier as the air seems to be corrupted with toxic poison that does nothing but suffocate you.

Don't get out of the car, don't get out of the car, you chant internally hoping it will help your situation.

"Hello, dear," a slinky voice says through the window, almost similar to the man— vampire from yesterday. Could it be? Could there be more? "Don't make me wait, dear. Open the door and make this easy for the both of us, hm?"

It sounds the exact same as the accent the man had with an alluring tone that draws you to open the door. However, it wasn't just her tempting attempt into convincing you to endanger yourself, the pain in your head inflates as you try to control yourself.

"You want it hard, my dear?" She smirks, you weren't sure but you hear the spread of the corner of her lips.

Then she was in front of the headlights, filled with rage, her eyes dark and dangerous as she showed her predacious teeth. From here, you can feel the vibration of her anger as if she had the ability to let you feel all the harnessed emotions inside her. You can count them one by one: anger, vengeance, and the feeling you get before success. None of them were positive emotions, none of them was mercy. She came here to accomplish one thing.

Your death.

Finally understanding it, inside her browbeating eyes were agony and mourning. She was here to avenge the death of the vampire that Taehyung had killed. She was as beautiful, as seductive with her pale skin and ruby lips, curly strawberry blonde hair that flows until her shoulders.

You discovered that there was a split second of slow agonizing memory of your life before it's taken, and you wished there was none. She runs towards you, careless whether she bashes her head into the glass. She takes your neck, her fingers poking specifically at the sides and right before you can regain your breath your eyes open.

Gasping and catching air, awakening in the seat with Taehyung by your side who drives in silence as Midnight Rambler by The Rolling Stones plays from his rusty stereo.

So if you ever meet the midnight rambler

I'm coming down your marble hall

Well, he's pouncing like a proud black panther

Well, you can say I, I told you so

He sits there, unaware of the chaos that repeats in your head. It all felt so real, the grasp on your neck that locks your throat, you could've sworn you've given your last breath. The pain had stopped, replaced by dizziness that you knew would pass as minutes go by. 

"What's wrong?" he asked. "Is there something on my face?"

You shake your head. "I didn't know I was staring."

That's right. You didn't know you were staring. There was so much comfort in knowing he never left, the heat of his presence brings you a feeling of security. It's okay now. Taehyung's still here. By your side.

Once reaching home, Taehyung does his best to assist you as though you were ill. It's cute how he acts that way, so careful, so gentle. Upon reaching your room, Taehyung stops before your bedroom door, almost waiting for an invitation.

"I should get going now. I'll tell Sylvia you felt sick." And before he could say good bye, you're already wrapping yourself in the blankets as he passively makes a step away from your door.

"Taehyung," you said, reaching out. "Thank you for today."

He doesn't turn back. "You're welcome. Also, thank you for coming."

A shiver spreads across your back when your lids start to fall, and your body jolts upwards. The beautiful woman from the early nightmare visits your mind again, her face inches from yours close to ripping it apart.

"Taehyung," you whispered, but he heard you within the thin walls of the lonely house. "Can you... stay for a sec? I... I had a nightmare earlier... felt so real. C-can you?"

He walks back, eyes landing everywhere except your body that waits for him on the bed. Is she serious? he thought as you opened the blankets for a space behind you.

"Until you fall asleep?"

You nod. He kicks off his shoes and he positions himself behind you, both of your breaths synchronizing as he lies down softly. You bury your cheek into the pillow when you feel his warmth wrap the room, the security coming back. You turn your head to see him watching you inches away, his hand keeping his head up as he rests his cheek against it. You take his free hand that lies on his right side, pulling it to your stomach requesting for him to scoot closer until his body brushes your back.

You can stay like this, for longer than you can imagine. Just the sounds of your breaths and the hums of his loud thumping heart that makes its way to your upper back, the release of breath from his nostrils that flies over your hair. Peaceful. Safe and sound.

In his embrace, you forget everything: the packing for Los Angeles, the fear of not getting into any university, the supernatural that you had discovered that you still cannot comprehend, the clouding fear that something is coming to get you. In his arm, it's like they never existed. The worries are nothing but disappearing sea foams, a water in heat that evaporates into thin air.

You enclose the hold in Taehyung's hand above your stomach, intertwining them for ease. Falling back into his embrace, he subtly moves away hoping you wouldn't notice. His warmth turning into heat, breathing ragged, hold on you tighter and stronger. Then you feel it, a gentle thrust behind you and he pretends to adjust position. He pulls you closer with the hand on your stomach and you sigh which caused a poking at your butt.

You may not be the smartest person on earth, but it doesn't take a book to know what it was. Taehyung murmurs an apology, his words passing by your neck which sends your stomach into a spiral. You rub your thighs together hoping to dissipate the throbbing in your core, not now.

Not now that Taehyung's beside you. Or maybe it should be now that Taehyung's beside you, you were open for a helping hand. His hand over your head tucks a strand of your hair, the finger brushing on your temple made your aching much harder to ignore. There would be no distraction, no having to worry about who will hear the both of you, for God's sake the house was built in the middle of nowhere, so you thought 'Fuck it.'

You tug his hand to the middle of your chest, to rest them between your breasts as your head turns to face him. He gulps, looking at you intently with lust hovering over his hooded eyes. You lean towards him, your lips reaching his and he pulls away for a second before diving back in. He had pillowy lips, and if it weren't for your hot need at the moment you would let your lips sleep on them for a longer while, but as of right now there are a lot of tensions that need handling.

You leave his hand on your chest while he's still shy to grope one of your breasts. Your hand then wrapping the back of his head to pull him deeper into the kiss, he sighs. That sigh caused the aching to grow, shaking your behind to feel how needy he was and he sighs again. His hand that was on your chest now pushes below the curves of your breasts to pull you closer, to have more friction, to thrust into you.

Until he couldn't take it anymore, he wants you below him as much as you want him on top of you. He hovers above you, his knee swift in spreading your thighs open and he is bucking in a steady pace on your clothed entrance.

"Take me, Taehyung," you breathe the second he leaves your lips.

He takes it slow, burning your insides, as his fingers pull the bow on your chest, untying the effortless knot you had made in the mirror. Too slow to keep up with your throbbing heat, you trail his hand to open the loose front, exposing

your nude bra. His eyes are pinned on yours, and you would make quick glances at his moderate hand you're directing. You unclasp the front of your bra, and when he hears it setting on the bed, he kisses you as if asking if you were really sure. Beneath the feverish endless kiss were words of fear from him, what if he wasn't truly ready.

The last time he had experienced this was long ago, a time before he knew how dangerous he could be. Careless of what his hands could bring, when he hadn't given a single thought for any of his actions. Well, it was one time, only once with the first girl he had ever loved. And the first was always the quickest, but it was unforgettable, he had kept every detail of her daisy fresh skin remembered under his fingertips. The laughs they had shared in between, a significance of the innocence they were about to lose. His head loses in doubts, questions that can only be answered if he risks hurting you tonight.

Then you whisper, "It's okay, you're not going to hurt me." Because in your mind, that was the last thing in his abilities. You smile, "It's okay." Rubbing circles at the back of his trembling hand, his jaw clenches.

Once he had started kissing you again, you parted his lips with your tongue in which he had replied with a tender bite causing you to moan within your throat. This motivates him to grope your breast, aggressing as seconds pass by, pulling a nipple in between his fingers and you arch your back. You rest your feet on his back, synchronizing with the movement of his hips. You admire the way his head moves downward, stopping after every inch of your skin to place a soft kiss until he reaches your breasts to which he places a long stripe lick moving from one bud to another while his eyes remain on yours. He's going to be the death of you.

You pant, trying to reach his hips that came to a halt. His hands pushing the hem of your dress higher, stopping at the middle of your waist. And his evil slow hands, still taking his time, move behind your thighs to pull them away from his back and placing them on his shoulders as he gets comfortable right between them. With gaze pierced on yours, he flats his lips on your clothed slit, tracing the wet spot visible in your white underwear. The thought of you being almost naked underneath the dress ever since earlier brought Taehyung into insanity, he could've fucked you with his fingers on the couch, he could've removed them and left your pussy out in the open as he keeps it in his pocket, he could've done so many things if only he knew earlier how much you'd wanted him just the same.

You look at the empty ceiling, too affected by the darkness in his stare, you were scared you would cum too quickly if you remain watching. He pulls your garment upward to put his bare thumb against your clit, until you couldn't take it and you look down again to see him putting the said thumb in his mouth. Sweeter than the cranberry juice he'd been tolerating to drink, adding that to the list he could've done earlier while your panties were in his pocket; enjoying the sweet fervor of your cunt on his tongue. He plays at your clit, tongue curling to lap up the wetness that increases as his spit mixes in. He knows so well what he's doing, the fragile scoop of his bottom lip from your opening to your clit where he stops.

Everywhere around his lips glistens as the bright light from the hallway outside your room shines upon them. His hands still holding your thighs steady, he slips his tongue inside you which has you shaking and he had to adjust the control in his grip. Once they've settled, he puts his touch above your breasts, flicking both buds in each hand.

You were crumbling under him, desperate for release, grunting in a throaty voice as you tried to keep yourself together. Tears huddle in your eyes, blurring your vision until he stops, now smiling above you while he pulls your underwear away from your body. It doesn't take long for him to get naked and you take time to admire his build. His skin was made of honey, toned and reflective of the warmth he emits. His cock slapping his tummy before he could fully get out of his tight boxers, his tip reaching his button.

He returns to his position between your thighs but this time around he was the one to wrap your legs around his waist. His shaft falls between your slit and he makes subtle movements in burying himself between them.

"I just want to say," he began, "how amazing you are." A gravelly moan of your name escapes his lips as you take matters in your own hand, thumb going over the head of his cock while the rest of your fingers rest wraps his cock.

He thrusts into your hand. His face forming wrinkles, frustration painted across his face. Until he falls on both arms caging your head, bucking for more friction, enjoying the suppleness of your touch. He was groaning, panting, and making a mess of himself to which all echoes from one wall to another. You put a hand on his abdomen to break his movement. He obeys, feeling you part yourself for his cock, torturously slow in entering you.

You pull your hands to your sides, getting a hold of Taehyung's biceps. Opening your lids to watch his pupils dilate as he rams the rest of his length inside your beating entrance.

"Y/n," he groans, brow knotting together when you clench around him. He's going to fall apart, he thought. You wrap him tighter, letting go of yourself in ecstasy, careless whether you melt into the bed or break it, all is well as long as you're looking into his eyes.

He chants your name again and again in a symphony of continuous moaning, and all you could say is how good he sounds. A compilation of ah's and oh's whenever he reaches your spot, his head brushing against it and it felt like nothing but heaven. More, he wants more, if only he could fuck you endlessly he would. The bed hits the wall in coordination of his sharp thrusts, and he's losing himself in you he couldn't care less if he breaks the walls. In sync with the sounds he makes were your gasps and high-pitched whispers of his name that he can see himself in the near future thinking of them and fucking himself alone in his room as he recalls them.

"Tae— oh fuck, Taehyung," you cried out causing his cock to twitch inside you, you call out for more. His name and a couple of curses were the only words you could spew out. Trembling, you feel an explosion of euphoria inside you, letting go of the tight grip around Taehyung's arm.

With one last fluid thrust, he pulls himself out and spills himself on top of your stomach. Both of your breathing slows until they were no longer audible. He rolls to his back beside you waiting to cool down and you take care of yourself by wiping his cum away with the tissue from the nightstand.

"I'm sorry, I made a mess," he says, breaking silence.

You didn't reply, instead you lie on your side to face him and wrap his cock in your warm hand. His cock still hard and wet under your touch, he breathes out a long sigh. "I made a mess of you too."

He chuckles before placing one last kiss on your forehead, and you watch him fall into his dreams. You shut the door, thankful Sylvia didn't come home during the circumstances earlier. You make a note not to leave it open next time.

Next time? Were you actually hoping for a next time? It's not long until you're leaving. Forks is not your home. Your home is on the other side of the country, and everything you grew up with awaits there. Forks is not your home, you tell yourself. The night grows along with your need for sleep, falling onto Taehyung's chest and getting lost in a slumber. You wake to Sylvia opening the door, an indication of her coming home, and you fall asleep again.

The next time you wake up, the sun shining alight from the windows to your eyes, Taehyung was sitting at the end of the bed fully clothed. His head turns slightly, feeling the sense of your waking.

"Y/n, there's not just one who wants to kill you," he says but you couldn't make out a single word, "there's a whole coven of them."

a/n: happy new year! pls dont take the bella comment seriously. also team jacob ftw!!! also appreciate my banner work owo.this is my first descriptive smut like i actually write them having sex idk i hope yall like it tho :* i love y’all! 

[horcrnx]

drunk thought l

Whenit comes to Killing Eve fanfic(which i reach all the time) I much prefer one shots that take me straigh to the smut. In the past, I preferred longer novel length fics, but considering KE has such less hours of content- I jus want them to fuck and that’s all. I’m horny and simple.

And by in the past I mean HP & Twlight fan fix

[deathvalleyqueen]

5,6,7 and 8 for the writers asks

Aww thank you! these are fun and I hope I don’t come off like... a bitch... cuz I am not... I just have opinions LOL

5. Something you hate to see in smut.

OH THIS... I hate badly written, badly researched, no actual understanding of BDSM, D/s relationships, the various kink they are trying to use in the fic.. .I SEE THIS SOOOOOOO much with DD/lg... like being someone with I don’t want to say a wealth of experience but like I have actual RL experience in this and sometimes... some things make me Cringe... like 50 Shades of Grey.... that’s just a whole lot of NO and has been since it was Twlight FanFic...

ALSO... I really hate like “flowery” langue in smut. This is a personal preference but I find it horribly cringe to go all “Blooming flower” and “throbbing sword...” ... like... just say Cock.... like just say it.... like I fucking hate reading some good smut and it’s ruined by some flowery word for a penis or vagina...

6. Something you love to see in smut.

I love well written kick fic... like there are good writers who really understand the particular kinks that they are writting about and reading that is totally diffrent. Like I stan when people obviously either have personal experince or did a fuck ton of research for their smut to make sure they are doing it well... 

Also.. I am sucker for serious feels sex.. like one of the characters have a brush with death and then in the heat of survival.. they just have crazy passionate sex... that’s the food that feeds my thirsty soul. LOL

7.Something you hate to see in dialogue.

When people try too hard, dialogue is supposed to sound natural... now I understand things like sentence structure and making dialogue sound natural can be harder for people who write in English but may not native English speakers... particularly American English because really it can be tricky to make things sound natural. I don’t want to say I hate it because I love and support ESL writers so hard... but as reader I do find it harder at time... but this is something even young writers struggle with as well. I am not so hyper critical though that I am not also willing help people with dialogue and making things sound better or more natural...

To get Dialogue to flow you need to know the rhythm in which a character speaks, they all have certain key phrase because we all have them in our actual lives and speech... and if the Dialogue pushes the story forward or not...

8. Something you love to see in dialogue.

I love when there is just... like a line. Just could be a single line that just rocks you or make you laugh. I give people who can write very funny characters to be angels. I try occasionally to add in some comedy and it’s not easy... sometimes it ends up being a bit cringe... so when someone can actually write comedy dialogue well... that’s gold...

[imagining-supernatural]

Heaven, Hell and Humanity.... wow just wow. This was honestly some of the best fiction that I've read in a long time. I seriously believe that you could pull a 50 shade of grey on this. Accept you have far better writing skills let that be clear. If you spent sometime really fleshing out the story and change a few details so that it's not supernatural and you have one of the best dystopian novels. Complex character that aren't perfect, a well thought out world build. You have immense potential.

Thank you so much! HH&H was probably one of my favorite series to write and this message was such a wonderful thing to wake up to! I was slightly confused about the 50 Shades thing (because of the no smut thing in my series) until I realized how 50 Shades started as Twlight fanfic. I never thought I would be so flattered by a compliment that had to do with 50 Shades but I am! Seriously, thank you doesn’t begin to cover what I’m feeling right now.

Heaven, Hell, and Humanity

[andreafmn]

12 Days of Ficmas ✵BONUS✵

Request by @lillybearblog: I hope this is ok to ask for! Basically it's your first time with Carlisle! (Can be human or new vampire I don't mind!) It is your first time with everything even kissing, hickeys, org*sm etc. You are super nervous and Carlisle is the consent king. Hes super gentle and walks you through everything. Can add things like pinning against the wall 😉

Word Count: 3.5K

Story Description: (Y/N) has always worked tirelessly for the Heaven’s Care Foundation to provide orphaned children and at-risk youth with a safe place to be. But working in a nonprofit is hard, and trying to give hundreds of children a Christmas to remember even more. Unless an anonymous donor changes everything.

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI) read the request for everything else that's on here

Pairing: Carlisle Cullen x Female!Reader

A/N: i decided to use this request as a way to tie in the second part for the 12DoF one-shot for Carlisle. I really hope I did the request justice. I'm still very new to smut and it can be a bit hard for me to write it. Hope y'all like it!

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Christmas Miracle Come in Attractive Packages | Part 2

When the gala was finally over, and everyone was gone, (Y/N) looked for Carlisle Cullen once more. They had spent the time she had free talking and getting to know one another. As tension built between them, all she could think was how the night would end if he did wait for her,

She was sure he would have gone home by now, bored after hours of a lot of bureaucratic performances she had to do for the people that helped fund the organization.

But as she finally exited the doors into the freezing winter of New York, there he stood in all his splendor. In the midst of the white snow, his body and clothes blended into the scenery. He was as picturesque as the city.

“You waited,” she smiled catching up to him. “Thought you’d be home by now. It’s freezing out here.”

“Some things are worth the wait,” Carlisle responded, a grin stretching on his face. “Now, I don’t mean to sound too forward, but would you like to come over to my place? It’s very cold and my apartment is close by.”

“That sounds like a wonderful idea.” (Y/N) tried her best to sound confident. But the reality was, she couldn’t help but let her fears get the best of her.

She was inexperienced in all matters of personal relations. When everyone around her was experimenting from high school all the way to college, she’d never done anything. Instead, she spent her time trying to finish her studies so she could get started on her dream – the foundation. Then when she started on it, she had no time for socializing outside of work.

So, her love life had been on the back burner her whole life. And now that a man had seemingly taken interest in her, she was not sure how to proceed. Thankfully, she was a quick study.

Before she could notice, Carlisle was parking the car in the car park of a luxury apartment complex. He guided them inside, hitting the last level in the elevator. Just who was this man? Doctors made money, but this amount of riches definitely did not come from the hospital.

“Welcome to my home,” Carlisle said as he opened the door to a beautiful apartment.

It was a modern build, with sleek line architecture, tall ceilings, and floor-to-ceiling windows that gave him one of the best views in New York. It was a glaring juxtaposition to where she lived and could not believe this was how some people lived.

“It’s beautiful,” she breathed out, taking in the scenery. “Can’t believe this place is real.”

Carlisle turned on music, which startled (Y/N) around, her dress whooshing with her movement. Her clothing stood out amongst the white and black styling of the place, making her seem out of place and the perfect focal point in the space.

“I believe we never got a chance to dance,” he smiled, taking her arm and twirling her toward his body.

She collided against his chest, having to look up to meet his eyes. Carlisle led the dance, having them sway to a song that (Y/N) could barely register, too entranced by the man before him. She had never felt this drawn to anyone. Taking her time to know people was normally how she went about things, but something about Carlisle told her to jump headfirst into it.

As they gazed into each other’s eyes, they started to lean in, closing the small gap that was still between them.

“Wait,” (Y/N) stopped abruptly.

“Is everything alright?” Carlisle worried. “I don’t want to overstep.”

“Yes.. no… maybe,” she stammered nervously. “It’s just this is my first, uh, time…”

“What?” he chuckled. “First time going home with someone on the first date.”

“First time for everything actually,” she grimaced slightly. “I never had time nor interest in having a love life and before I knew it so much time had passed that I never had the chance to do… well, anything.”

“Well, that’s no problem.” He gave her a smile that instantly made her weak in the knees. “We won’t do anything you don’t feel comfortable doing.”

“That’s the thing,” she grinned. “Something about you makes me want to do… everything. I’m done putting my life on the back burner and I would love nothing more than to push forward with you.”

As they shared another smile, Carlisle place both of his hands gingerly on the side of her face and finally bent down, pressing a kiss on her lips.

That’s when she saw fireworks.

She could feel herself growing warm already, the knot in her stomach tightening promptly. (Y/N) knew the feeling perfectly. Just because she hadn’t done anything with another person didn’t mean she hadn’t explored that side on her own.

The kiss grew hungrier, with Carlisle taking the lead. He was gentle as his hands roamed down her body and settled onto her waist pulling her warm body flush to his ice-cold one. It had been a few years since he had engaged in any type of physical relations, and though he wasn’t inexperienced, he was ravenous.

He hadn’t planned to meet anyone in his time in Ithaca, much less a human. But (Y/N) had barreled into his life by pure chance. Had she not bumped into him whilst his brain was focused elsewhere, there was a big chance they would never have crossed paths.

Oh, but how glad he was that they did.

“Are you sure you want this?” Carlisle breathed, breaking the kiss first. “I want to make sure you are absolutely certain this is what you want.”

“It is, Carlisle,” she responded. “I’ve never been this sure of anything before.”

“Then, if at any moment you want to stop, just say the word and we’ll stop.”

“Take me, Carlisle,” she mewled in his ear. “I’m all yours.”

The words surprised (Y/N) as they came out, but they ignited something inside Carlisle. He brought his mouth to hers once more, taking his time to devour her mouth. She was bringing the animal in him that lay dormant. And though he normally hungered for blood, this night he was going to feast in something more primal. He was going to show (Y/N) what she had been missing.

Their movements were fluid, almost choreographed. Their hands ran across their clothed bodies, learning every corner with their hands.

When Carlisle felt satisfied with her mouth, his lips traveled down. He kissed her cheek, down her jaw, and started work on her neck. He kissed and kissed until he found a spot that made her moan loudly. With a grin growing on his lips, he nipped at the spot siphoning new sounds from (Y/N)’s mouth.

She could feel herself growing warmer, wetter. Her hands gripped onto his hair, pulling on the blond locks of his hair. This let out a growl from Carlisle’s throat, making him bite softly on the areas he was enjoying — never enough to draw blood, just hard enough that it was a temptation.

“That’s gonna leave a mark in the morning,” she chuckled, slightly out of breath.

“That’s the idea,” he grinned mischievously. “I want everyone to know what will happen here tonight.”

“Then, what’re we waiting for? Let’s move this to the bedroom.”

Carlisle’s eyes darkened, lust glazing them over. They fumbled backward together, connected through their lips and their hands not working fast enough to get their clothes off their bodies. They stumbled through every step, (Y/N)’s dress getting tangled between their feet and they walked the long hallways trying to not spend even a second apart.

“This isn’t working,” Carlisle chuckled. “Come here.”

Swiftly, he snaked one hand under her legs and the other on the small of her back. A gleeful shriek escaped her as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He wanted nothing more than to speed them over to the bedroom and get her on his bed so he could ravish her body as if it was his last meal. But he would scare her before he could do so. That meant he had to walk as fast as he could, and that’s what he did.

Carlisle pushed opened his bedroom door with his foot, crossing them through the threshold. He set her down gently as (Y/N) pushed the door closed after. He pressed her front softly against the door, his lips connecting to her skin, and he slid the zipper of her dress down.

As his hand pulled the zipper agonizingly slowly, he kissed from her neck to her shoulders, to her exposed shoulder blades. Every piece of skin he could find he would kiss or nip, smiling as he noted some start their process of bruising. Every mark was a testament to what he had done, of what she had allowed him to do.

The red fabric pooled at her feet, exposing her bare back and the black lace underwear she had chosen to wear. Instinctively, she covered her breasts. A red hue fell over her entire body in embarrassment. But Carlisle took her arms in his, turning her around and placing another kiss on her lips.

“Don’t hide yourself, (Y/N),” he whispered into her ear. “I want to see you. I want to see all of you.”

He looked at her with admiration and hunger, so much hunger. His eyes studied the curve of her breasts, the dip of her hips, the length of her legs — she was a sight to behold. Every single part of her body was perfect to him. From the freckles to the blemishes to the scars.

He had seen perfection in vampires, marble-like skin that could hold no flaw. Still, there was something about human beauty that he found precious. Immortal beauty would never compare to the transitional beauty of human beings. It was transcendental.

“You’re gorgeous,” he said as he looked her over. “Perfect.”

“Well,” she grinned. “I wouldn’t want you to feel left out, so how about we start with you?”

(Y/N) went for his tie first, pulling it until it joined her dress on the floor. Then she unbuttoned his shirt, ever so slowly, teasing him slightly. But it was backfiring. As she worked to build his desire, hers grew as well, along with desperation. His clothes could not be off him fast enough for her. She wanted him, and she wanted him now.

Once she reached the last button, she pushed the shirt and the blazer off his shoulders to reveal his bare chest. (Y/N) ran her hands through his pecs and down his arms, feeling the smooth valley of his skin. Not only did he look like a perfect marble statue, he felt like one. Carlisle was as smooth, cold, and as hard as stone — enchanting and beautiful. It took everything in her to not continue to gawk at his body. His mouth on hers helped.

Carlisle guided them to the bed, laying her gently onto the massive piece of furniture. The duvet felt cold against (Y/N)’s skin – nowhere as cold as Carlisle – and her body erupted in goosebumps. But the coldness was quickly replaced by the warm knot forming in the pit of her stomach as the man slid her panties off her body.

Never breaking eye contact, Carlisle pulled the piece of fabric down her thighs, her knees, her calves, her ankles, and finally her feet. In the shining light of the full moon that seeped through the windows, he could see her wetness glistening. She was drenched and he could smell her arousal since they had gotten to the apartment. Now that he had her right in front of him, he needed to devour her.

“Let me know if this gets too much, (Y/N),” Carlisle said, sucking in a breath. “Remember, if at any point...” 

“I promise I’ll let you know,” (Y/N) somehow managed to breathe out through her panting. “Just touch me please.”

Without a second thought, Carlisle’s tongue lapped her slit, running from her entrance and ending on the sensitive bud that lived at the top. This took (Y/N)’s breath out of her lungs. An overwhelming feeling of pleasure ransacked through her body, arching in tandem.

But that simple touch could not compare to when Carlisle started his ministrations on her clit. His tongue circled, his mouth sucked, and his throat vibrated. That was enough to have her nearing that so-awaited for peak that would have her clutching at the sheets. Yet, Carlisle introduced a finger into her wet entrance and that sent her onto another plane.

“Whatever you’re doing,” she moaned. “Don’t you dare stop.” 

“I wasn’t planning on it.” 

He responded pressed against her, his voice sending shock waves through her body. He was feasting, and like a good boy, he would devour his whole meal. It helped that it was so beautifully presented.

With a masterful tongue, Carlisle continued his attack on the needy mound as his fingers – two more already added for preparation – pistoned into her at an inhuman speed. But what had her moaning and writhing, was how he curled those fingers to press on her most sensitive spot from the inside.

She could feel the crescendo of her climax reaching its peak. Her walls clenched around Carlisle’s fingers, her body feeling fuller than it had ever been. There was only so much she could do with her own fingers. But this man somehow knew just how to coax out her orgasm better than she ever could. His mouth and his digits worked in perfect symphony until they had her yelling out his name.

(Y/N) was sure she was seeing stars. As her cunt wept in pleasure, her brain could barely process what had happened. Se believed she had been able to orgasm when she divulged in alone time, but it had never felt like this. Nothing (Y/N) had done to herself had her legs shaking or had her lungs devoid of oxygen. This experience was simply unparalleled.

As she recuperated from the assault, (Y/N) watched with newly growing warmth as Carlisle licked her arousal from his fingers, savoring it as if it was his last meal. It was just the thing to have her ready for the next round.

Carlisle towered above her, kissing her deeply. As his tongue explored her mouth, she explored her own taste on his tongue, making her wetness start pooling once more. Her hands traveled down his body, one of them landing on the button of his pants as the other palmed at his stone-hard bulge.

(Y/N) gawked as she finally freed his hard-on from his pants, astonished by the mere size of it. She was sure it would never fit – then again, how would she have ever known? But in her astonishment, (Y/N) found herself lowering her head, ready to at least make it fit in one entrance at a time.

Carlisle stopped her.

“Tonight is all about you,” he whispered. “We can delve into other things at a letter time. But right now, I need to be inside you.” 

“Then what are you waiting for?” (Y/N) purred with newfound confidence. “My cunt is begging to be filled.” 

The words surprised the woman as they rolled off her tongue. She had no idea where they were coming from or how she had the gall to say them. But it was how she was feeling and it was what her body was yearning for.

Carlisle’s smile contorted into a devilish grin as he lined himself with her entrance. He used the pool of her core to slather his shaft and pumped himself three times to get himself ready for her.

First, his head breached her, starting the stretch. It felt nothing like when he entered her with his fingers. And though it was just a tad painful, she was quickly growing to love the feeling. As his cock continued to slide into he, (Y/N) felt her breath leave her lungs. Once his hips hit hers, she felt completely full and stretched.  

“Are you okay?” Carlisle asked seemingly out of breath as well. “Let me know when you feel comfortable for me to move.”

“Just give me a sec,” she exhaled deeply. Growing used to the feeling did not take long. The stinging pain shifted quickly into yearning pleasure. At first, it was too much, but now it was not enough. “You can move now, please. I need you to move.”

He was slow at first, moving his hips softly into her. But he knew he could not last long. From her scent to her tightness, Carlisle felt himself nearing his end. Though restraint was something he excelled at, something about (Y/N) made his inhibitions fall. It made him feel like a newborn once more – the lowest level of self-control.

As his pace turned faster, (Y/N)’s voice could only make out moans, groans, and pants. It was a feeling like no other, and it was a great one. The knot that had formed at the pit of her stomach tightened as he continued his calculated attack.

“I-I’m close,” she mumbled out.

“So am I, darling.”

He pummeled into her even faster now. His tip hit her g-spot with every single stroke. As he did, (Y/N)’s grip on Carlisle’s hips tightened, pushing him into her deeper and deeper. She was chasing her second orgasm of the night in what she found was her favorite way.

Until he used his thumb to stimulate her clit. (Y/N) yelled out at the attack. Her eyes closed and her back arched off the bed. He rolled the small bud over and over, his fingers somehow matching the speed of his hips.

It was only a couple of thrusts more before they were both screaming out each other’s names. (Y/N) felt Carlisle’s release mixed with hers, coating her walls with his seed. It was reckless, but it felt right at that moment.

Carlisle slipped out of her and climbed beside her on the bed, cradling her body close to his as she panted. He could tell she was exhausted. (Y/N) slumped against him, too tired to do anything else.

Her mind was hazy from everything they did, and although she wanted more, her body was overcome with exhaustion. (Y/N) thought she would have built up stamina, that she would be able to go all night and enjoy this man for as much as she could. But she had not anticipated how much energy she would drain by getting two leg-shaking orgasms one right after the other.

“So,” Carlisle said into her hair. (Y/N)’s head was laid on his chest, his hand drawing shapes on her bare back. “How was your first time?”

(Y/N) stared at him through her lashes, transfixed at how the moonlight hit his perfect features. “It was more than I could have ever imagined,” she said. “You’re more than I had ever imagined.”

“What do you mean?” he chuckled. “Do not tell me you had not planned to have your first time with a man you barely know.”

“Obviously I didn’t,” she laughed. “But I wouldn’t trade this for the world. I, uh, I hope this wasn’t a one-off. I would like to see you again… and many times after that.”

“I could never let you go now. Not after all that,” Carlisle smiled down at her. “I would certainly enjoy continuing this wonderful adventure. In fact, if you’re up for it, why don’t we go out for breakfast in the morning?”

“I would love nothing more.”

Carlisle met her in another soft kiss. This one wasn’t hungry or ravenously passionate. It was full of promise, full of future expectations. It was a kiss that told her he wanted to know everything about her, to someday bring her into his life – although explaining his supernatural situation could prove rather tricky.

For her, it was a kiss that solidified her Christmas miracle. She was meant to meet this man. She was meant to go home with him. She was meant to be here, on his bed, in his arms. Carlisle was the miracle she had always waited for.

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